Nations, habituated to be ruled for centuries cannot rule themselves in a minute. People must learn to think for themselves, and, in order to do so, must be instructed. Agriculture must be cherished, and farmers made to elevate themselves in society;—to become rich by their toil, and cultivated by study. The mechanical class must become ambitious of being something more than the mere servant of the capitalist's wants;—in fine, all classes must shake off that lethargy, which, arising either from old habits, or an enervating climate, makes them the servants of the passing hour, and content with bare existence.
As the agriculture of the country is chiefly in the hands of rich proprietors and of the church, that branch of independent has no general influence. The mass of the mechanical class is exceedingly poor, and indescribably ignorant; and large portions of other classes are avaricious gambling and bigoted, while over all extends that spiritual power, which still exercises an influence little inferior to the army.
Such a population,—ignorant, poor and servile,—cares but little for politics; and it is a mercy to rule them wisely and justly. If wages are good, and crops plentiful, the farmer and mechanic are contented, provided the taxes are not high. In a soil which yields so readily and abundantly, and a temperature so genial, men are naturally indolent. It is easier, thus provided with the necessaries of life, to be governed than to govern,—especially, if they do not feel the pressure of the crown, or the blows of the sceptre. They are, therefore, docile, quiet, and ready to pass from one chief to another without inquiry. In addition to this, it should always be remembered, that Mexico is of all civilized countries perhaps the least accessible, both from abroad and in its interior;—its coasts ravaged by dangerous fevers; its territory piled up on an isthmus between two great Continents on the north and south, and two great oceans to the east and west. It may be literally called a nation hanging on the sides of a mountain; the Atlantic thundering at its base on the one side, and the Pacific on the other; without steamers, railways, or means for the easy transmission of papers—by which not only the news of the day and of the whole world may be transmitted to every cabin of its forests; but by which the people themselves may travel, easily and cheaply, and thus become knit together by friendship, kindred, and kindly intercourse. It is an affair of as much importance to make a journey of a hundred miles,[1] as it was with us during the Revolution; for not only are they obliged to travel in slow coaches, over bad roads on mules and horses, but they must be accompanied by a horde of servants and sumpter animals, a mountain of bedding, baggage and cooking utensils, and, besides, be guarded for fear of the robbers! Thus, while there is no extensive intercommunication, there is less perhaps from abroad; and, of course, the opinions of Europe and America can have but little influence on a nation
- ↑ Last year only eleven hundred and nine people arrived as passengers at Vara Cruz, and four hundred and fifty-nine left that port, so that the average gain of population by emigration was only six hundred and fourteen through that city.
