weakened in that campaign, free-silver papers sprung up all over Oregon, and the Oregonian's editorial thunderings were credited with the final victory, which a few weeks before, had seemed impossible.
Two cardinal principles of Scott's political and economic philosophy were free trade and sound money. In the case of free trade he recognized that the tariff was, more or less, a local issue, and that circumstances might alter policies. This made it possible for him to maintain affiliation with the Republican party, though he never yielded on the fundamental soundness of free trade. In the case of sound money, however, there was no single hint of wavering, no concession to expediency, and he regarded greenbackism and free silver alike as unsound in economics and fundamentally dishonest.
Mr. Scott's feeling on both of these issues probably explains a certain lukewarmness on his part toward William McKinley, whose "bimetallism by international agreement" policy and his extreme high-tariff views left the Oregonian editor equally cold. There wasn't much about McKinley, as a matter of fact, that Scott liked; it was the dislike of a hard, economic thinker for the highly political type of mind. Note his comment in an editorial published in the Oregonian November 9, 1899:
Senator Depew, of New York, says the elections prove that the people are with the president. The elections prove the people are resolved on two things: First, to uphold the gold standard, and second, to maintain the authority of the United States in our distant possessions. The complaint against McKinley is that he has not been vigorous enough in either purpose. He halts, hesitates, waits; he is not a leader, but only a timid follower. He keeps his ear to the ground, trying to attune it to faint whispers or echoes of popular expression, and so, instead of being a leader, he is far in the rearward of actual opinion and judgment. He is a pattern of the meticulous spirit, of the mincing movement, of invertebrate statesmanship. The people are not with him, and he is not with the people. They are far ahead of him, and he lags and loiters along in the rear, warming his fingers and toes at old expiring campfires.
Later (December 10 of the same year) he wrote:
The president's course has been one of indecision and hesitation. It has been the course of a politician fearful of the effect on his own political fortunes of any open and strong utterance or decided policy.
The editor's feeling for Grover Cleveland stands out in distinct contrast to this. He wrote (9):
