assertions of the Americans, not my own; that in many instances they are true, I have no doubt. In a country so chequered as the United States, such must be expected; but I can also assert, that there are many very highly respectable and clever editors in the United States. The New York papers are most of them very well conducted, and very well written. The New York Courier and Enquirer, Colonel Webb; the Evening Star, by Noah; the Albion, by Doctor Birtlett; Spirit of the Times, and many others, which are too numerous to quote, are equal to many of the English newspapers. The best written paper in the States, and the happiest in its sarcasm and wit, is the Louisville Gazette, conducted by Mr Prentice of Kentucky; indeed, the western papers, are, generally speaking, more amusing and witty than the eastern; the New Orleans Picayune, by Kendall, is perhaps, after Prentice’s, the most amusing; but there are many more, which are too numerous to mention, which do great credit to American talent. Still the majority are disgraceful not only from their vulgarity, but from their odious personalities and disregard to truth. The bombast and ignorance shown in some of these is very amusing. Here is an extract or two from the small newspapers published in the less populous countries. An editor down East, speaking of his own merits, thus concludes—“I’m a real catastrophe—a small creation; Mount Vesuvius at the top, with red hot lava pouring out of the crater, and routing nations—my fists are rocky mountains—arms, whig liberty poles, with iron springs. Every step I take is an earthquake—every blow I strike is a clap of thunder—and every breath I breathe is a tornado. My disposition is Dupont’s best, and goes off at a flash—when I blast there’ll be nothing left but a hole three feet in circumference and no end to its depth.”
Another writes the account of a storm as follows:—
“On Monday afternoon, while the haymakers were all out gathering in the hay, in anticipation of a shower from the small cloud that was seen hanging over the hilly regions towards the south-east, a tremendous storm suddenly burst upon them, and forced them to seek shelter from its violence. The wind whistled outrageously through the old elms, scattering the beautiful foliage, and then going down into the meadow, where the men had just abruptly left their work unfinished, and overturning the half-made ricks, whisked them into the air, and filled the whole afternoon full of hay.”
I copied the following from a western paper:—
“Yes, my countrymen, a dawn begins to open upon us; the crepusculous rays of returning republicanism are fast extending over the darkness of our political horizon, and before their brightness, those myrmidons shall slink away to the abode of the demons who have generated them, in the hollow caves of darkness.”
Again—“Many who have acquired great fame and celebrity in the world, began their career as printers. Sir William Blackstone, the learned English commentator of laws, was a printer by trade. King Charles the Third was a printer, and not unfrequently worked at the trade after he ascended the throne of England.”
Who Charles the Third of England was I do not know, as he is not yet mentioned in any of our histories.
The most remarkable newspaper for its obscenity, and total disregard for all decency and truth in its personal attacks, is the Morning Herald of New York, published by a person of the name of Bennett, and being published in so large a city, it affords a convincing proof with what impunity the most licentious attacks upon private characters are permitted. But Mr Bennett is sui generis; and demands particular notice. He is indeed a remarkable man, a species of philosopher, who acts up to his tenets with a moral courage not often to be met with in the United States. His maxim appears to be this—“Money will find me every thing in this world, and money I will have, at any risk, except that of my life, as, if I lost that, the money would be useless.” Acting upon this creed, he has lent his paper to the basest and most malignant purposes, to the hatred of all that is respectable and good, defaming and inventing lies against every honest man, attacking the peace and happiness of private families by the most injurious and base calumny. As may be supposed, he has been horse-whipped, kicked, trodden under foot, and spat upon, and degraded in every possible way; but all this he courts, because it brings money. Horse-whip him, and he will bend his back to the lash, and thank you, as every blow is worth so many dollars. Kick him, and he will remove his coat tails, that you may have a better mark, and he courts the application of the toe, while he counts the total of the damages which he may obtain. Spit upon him, and he prizes it as precious ointment, for it brings him the sovereign remedy for his disease, a fever for specie.
The day after the punishment, he publishes a full and particular account of how many kicks, tweaks of the nose, or lashes he may have received. He prostitutes his pen, his talent, every thing for money. His glory is, that he has passed the rubicon of shame; and all he regrets is, that the public is at last coming to the unanimous opinion, that he is too contemptible, too degraded, to be even touched. The other, and more respectable editors of newspapers, avoid him, on account of the filth which he pours forth; like a polecat, he may be hunted down; but no dog will ever attempt to worry him, as soon as he pours out the contents of his foetid bag.
It is a convincing proof of the ardent love of defamation in this country, that this modern Thersites, who throws the former of that name so immeasurably into the background, has still great sway over men in office; every one almost, who has a character, is afraid of him, and will purchase his silence, if they cannot his good will.
During the crash at New York, when even the suspicion of insolvency was fatal, this miscreant published some of the most respectable persons of New York as bankrupts, and yet received no punishment. His paper is clever, that is certain; but I very much doubt if Bennett is the clever man—and my reason is this, Bennett was for some time in England, and during that time the paper, so far from falling off, was better written than before. I myself, before I had been six weeks in the country, was attacked by this wretch, and, at the same time, the paper was sent to me with this small note on the margin:– “Send twenty dollars, and it shall be stopped.”—“I only wish you may get it,” said I to myself.10
Captain Hamilton, speaking of the newspaper press in America, says—
“In order to form a fair estimate of their merit, I read newspapers from all parts of the union, and found them utterly contemptible, in point of talent, and dealing in abuse so virulent, as to excite a feeling of disgust,—not only with the writers, but with the public which afforded them support. Tried by this standard—and I know not how it can be objected to—the moral feeling of this people must be estimated lower than in any deductions from other circumstances I have ventured to rate it.”
In the following remarks, also, I most cordially agree with him. “Our newspaper and periodical press is bad enough. Its sins against propriety cannot be justified, and ought not to be defended. But its violence is meekness, its liberty restraint, and even its atrocities are virtues, when compared with that system of brutal and ferocious outrage which distinguishes the press in America. In England, even an insinuation against personal honour is intolerable. A hint—a breath—the contemplation even of a possibility of tarnish—such things are sufficient to poison the tranquillity, and, unless met by prompt vindication, to ruin the character of a public man; but in America, it is thought necessary to have recourse to other weapons. The strongest epithets of a ruffian vocabulary are put in requisition.”
It may be asked, how is it possible that an “enlightened nation” can permit such atrocity. It must be remembered, that newspapers are vended at a very low price throughout the States, and that the support of the major portion of them is derived from the ignorant and lower classes. Every man in America reads his newspaper, and hardly any thing else; and while he considers that he is assisting to govern the nation, he is in fact, the dupe of those who pull the strings in secret, and by flattering his vanity, and exciting his worst feelings, make him a poor tool in their hands. People are too apt to imagine that the newspapers echo their own feelings; when the fact is, that by taking in a paper, which upholds certain opinions, the readers are, by daily repetition, become so impressed with these opinions, that they have become slaves
