The Daily Astorian

THE AGE OF INK.

On the day preceding the late election in New York, it is stated that 820,000 two-cent stamps and 400,000 stamped envelopes were sold in New York City alone. The fact is regarded as significant of the increasing importance attached to printer's ink in political contests, and as indicating the fact that that means of molding the public mind is in great degree superseding the stump and rostrum. In short the world is becoming less economical, and while people are still somewhat fond of show and glitter, they must not be expected to run after them as much as they once did. Even the days of real oratory, it is believed are drawing to a close. Great debaters speak to empty benches, and the queen of the rostrum, Anna Dickinson, mounts the stage in the armor of Macbeth. The lyceum, of Boston birth had its growth, and now but few of the old talkers remain for a decent funeral procession. The oratory of the stump must obey the inexorable law of death. We are not elemental in our natures, and therefore less emotional than we were half or a quarter of a century ago. Log cabins would now have little effect on our imaginations. The political meetings usually held are in the interest of young orators who delight in "scathing reviews," "powerful denunciations" and "eloquent arraignments," of all things political than to gratify a public craving for the exposition of speech. It is true we like a little of the "pomp and circumstances" of political battle, such as bright uniforms, caparisoned horses, brilliant lights and the glitter of epaulettes and gold lace—but the paraders do not stop after a march to listen to stump gush, merely because they have a love for it. The newspaper is killing the stump orator. The average listener knows as much about politics as the one talking. The voter is influenced by printer's ink, not by eloquent wind-bags. One of the chief expenses of campaigns now is the immense amount of printing matter used. One of the hopes for the future is that the great mass of people will vote with their brains and not through their feelings. The province of the journalist is to give facts, allowing people to draw conclusions; the aim of the speaker is to convince by the music of words. So the stump speaker will last for a time, he will be around every campaign, just as the organ-grinder comes with spring, but in the long run both will have the same kind of audiences.—Exchange.