Alexandria Gazette

Mr. John M. Patton's Political Course.

The most consistent politician and unlucky office seeker is out again in a speech at a Richmond gathering of the "indomitable Spartans."

The reader has not forgotten an inaugural of this gentleman as presiding officer of the Loco Foco Convention in February last.

The speech was reported in full, and exhibited a striking specimen of classic wit and cutting satire. The world lost much in the failure to report in full this last effort of our ex-representative in Congress and at present Councillor of State. At least such is the inference from the comparative estimate of the former and the latter speech. The Enquirer speaks of this last effort as great—we should infer greater than any ever before made by him. When we reflect therefore upon the effect of his first speech in exciting the mirth and enthusiasm of the Convention and the spectators assembled—by the richness of his anecdotes, and the brilliancy of his invective, this last great effort must have proved a perfect slasher. We have often looked ourselves, over the Convention speech, of which so much was said. There was a redundancy about it that struck us as unique. In the following quotation, for example, where can we find gems of thought richer and more sparkling?

"The Whig party" exclaimed Mr. Patton at the top of his voice, and with impressive gesticulation "is the one principle party." (Shouts of laughter and applause.) "Yes! when he saw the great Whig Convention fighting on one principle, he was disposed to say
O, dear sensibility—O, la!
I heard a little lamb cry baa!
So, says I, you've lost your mamma,
Ah!
(Peals of laughter and repeated shouts of applause.)

Now gentle reader when you have devoured the above morceau as a specimen of a great speech, what must be your anxiety to see this last still greater exhibition which was by the negligence of the Reporters so imperfectly given. Like Niobe, our head has been a fountain of tears since we heard it, and we are inconsolable at the loss the whole political world has sustained by this luminous effusion.

The last great effort of Mr. Patton, we are told, was an attempt to prove his consistency—that so far back as ten years he saw the merits of Lewis Cass, and advocated his nomination for the Presidency—of course he ought to support him. So think we. Mr. Patton has always been consistent, and now in his old age he should by all means sustain the reputation for which he has so long and so zealously striven. He was once a member of Congress, and in his representative character was consistent throughout. During the six or seven years he legislated, he was for and against every leading measure before the nation—at one time for nullification then against it—for the removal of the 'public deposites, then against their removal. 'At one time a Jackson man then against him—violently for Calhoun, then his denouncer. He was a White man, a Van Buren man, or any body's man until election day, and then he was the best people's man that ever wagged a tongue.

In the year '38, Mr. Patton was transferred to the Executive Council at Richmond, where having no inducements, we supposed he would bid defiance to the trammels of consistency. But in this we were deceived. He was the same old sterling seven-and-six at Richmond that he was in Spotsylvania. He was the straight forward unbending course swerved neither by the claims of the people nor the claims of the government. The first sound we heard from him was a stentorian cry for Harrison in 1840. A speech delivered immediately preceding the election in the Exchange at that place, struck us with amazement. The administrations of Gen. Jackson and Mr. Van Buren were reviewed with tremendous power, and the very acts which he as a Representative had supported with all his abilities, were condemned as the veriest outrages ever tolerated by a christian people. The only Simon Pures, at the time, were the Whigs, and the High Priest of purity and perfection was the great embodiment of the Whig party.

We heard nothing of Mr. Patton after the election of '40, until he was introduced to us by some Western member of the Legislature in the celebrated Pig and Puppy story. That story, if we recollect aright, represented him as neither Pig nor Puppy" in politics, until about the time of re-election, when he was either, to suit the complexion of the Legislature. To be consistent, Mr. Patton has been within the last ten years, about an equal number of times, with each party. When the Whig party have been victorious," he was ever one of the gallant Captains, to follow them to victory. When the Locos are in the ascendancy, he is the very man after their own heart. He abuses the Whigs—reverses the vocabulary of hard names, and those which at one time were coined for their especial benefit, he directs against their opponents. But in all this, Mr. Patton is consistent.

These reflections were suggested by the proceedings of a Democratic meeting held in Richmond last week, at which this consistent Mr. Patton indulged to his heart's content, in ridicule and denunciation of the Whigs. There was no phrase too contemptuous which was not applied to the party—their candidates and their principles. Had we not known Mr. Patton before, we should have felt indignant to be ranked with a party such as he has described. The "no principle and the one principle party," "the Centaur Nomination," "with General Taylor and old Whitey as the nominees," "the party who had capitulated with their principles," were some of the epithets by which we were designated. Such were a few of the decent phrases from such a source the Enquirer tells us, "sank deep in the hearts of their listeners, and were received with rounds of applause." God save the mark!

There was one sentiment in the speech which we should rejoice to have heard uttered. It would have been worthy the pencil of Hogarth to sketch the countenance of the orator as it was delivered.

"Mr. P. (said the Enquirer,) next alluded to the peculiar anxiety of our opponents to prove our inconsistency." and said that the veriest weather-cock in politics is the man who complains that the steeple is constantly turning round!

A great bruiser of our acquaintance, who had a slight taint of negro blood, never omitted an opportunity to fisticuff when an occasion offered.' He always provoked the fight by calling his antagonist "a d—n—d mulatto rascal." When asked his reason his reply was, "I do it first that he may not call me so—for of all things, I hate most is to be called a nigger." Our quondam friend we imagine is somewhat in the condition of the court yard bully. He dislikes to be called in his true name, and he gets the start of his opponents by affixing an epithet which he knows mustly belongs to him.

But we are doing injustice to the Whig cause in depreciating Mr. Patton's candor and consistency. The chances are that our own words will be quoted upon us by our Democratic brethren, before the termination of the presidential campaign. Mr. P. will be with us as soon as Taylor fairly gets the heels of Cass. And we will have him up here at another Whig Convention, (as in '40) pouring hot broad sides in the Loco Foco ranks, which peradventure "may sink in the hearts" of the Whigs, and call forth from them "rounds of applause." One of his old political cronies in this region, who knew him well, once called him a "negotiable note politician," that every sixty days he renewed his opinions and was always so fortunate as to have them discounted." That this has been the case we know—that it will be so again, we think more than probable. And we shall hereafter be more cautious in speaking of Mr. Patton's consistency, knowing that if we live a twelve-month, we shall be placed in the unenviable attitude of defending him.—Fredericksburg News.