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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ec8958a --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #61982 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/61982) diff --git a/old/61982-0.txt b/old/61982-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 1133872..0000000 --- a/old/61982-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,10112 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Profession of Journalism, by Various - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll -have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using -this ebook. - - - -Title: The Profession of Journalism - A Collection of Articles on Newspaper Editing and - Publishing, taken from the Atlantic Monthly - -Author: Various - -Editor: Willard Grosvenor Bleyer - -Release Date: April 30, 2020 [EBook #61982] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PROFESSION OF JOURNALISM *** - - - - -Produced by Richard Tonsing and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - - - THE PROFESSION OF JOURNALISM - - - - - OTHER COLLECTIONS - - -drawn from _The Atlantic Monthly_ are published under the following -titles:— - - ATLANTIC CLASSICS, _First Series_ $1.25 - - ATLANTIC CLASSICS, _Second Series_ $1.25 - - HEADQUARTERS NIGHTS. By _Vernon Kellogg_ $1.00 - - THE WAR AND THE SPIRIT OF YOUTH. By _Maurice Barrès_ and Others $1.00 - - PAN-GERMANY: THE DISEASE AND CURE. By _André Chéradame_ $ .35 - - THE ASSAULT ON HUMANISM. By _Paul Shorey_ $1.00 - - SHOCK AT THE FRONT. By _William T. Porter M.D._ $1.25 - - ATLANTIC NARRATIVES. Edited by _Charles Swain Thomas_ $1.00 - - ESSAYS AND ESSAY WRITING. Edited by _W. M. Tanner_ $1.00 - - - THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY PRESS - - BOSTON - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - THE PROFESSION OF - JOURNALISM -A Collection of Articles on Newspaper Editing and Publishing, Taken from - the Atlantic Monthly - - - EDITED WITH AN INTRODUCTION AND NOTES BY - WILLARD GROSVENOR BLEYER, PH.D. - - _Author of “Newspaper Writing and Editing” and “Types of News Writing”; - Professor of Journalism in the University of Wisconsin_ - -[Illustration] - - The Atlantic Monthly Press - BOSTON - - - - - _Copyright, 1918, by_ - THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY PRESS, INC. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - PREFACE - - -The purpose of this book is to bring together in convenient form a -number of significant contributions to the discussion of the newspaper -and its problems which have appeared in the _Atlantic Monthly_ in recent -years. Although these articles were intended only for the readers of -that magazine at the time of their original publication, they have -permanent value for the general reader, for newspaper workers, and for -students of journalism. - -Practically every phase of journalism is taken up in these articles, -including newspaper publishing, news and editorial policies, the -influence of the press, yellow and sensational journalism, the problems -of the newspaper in small cities, country journalism, the Associated -Press, the law of libel, book-reviewing, dramatic criticism, “comics,” -free-lance writing, and the opportunities in the profession. For readers -who desire to make a further study of any of the important aspects of -the press, a bibliography of such books and magazine articles as are -generally available in public libraries has been appended. - -Most of the authors of the articles in this volume are newspaper and -magazine writers and editors whose long experience in journalism gives -particular value to their analysis of conditions, past and present. -Brief notes on the journalistic work of the writers are given in the -Appendix. - -For permission to reprint the articles the editor is indebted to the -writers and to the editor of the _Atlantic Monthly_. - - W. G. B. - - UNIVERSITY OF WISCONSIN, - January 12, 1918. - - - - - CONTENTS - - - PAGE - - INTRODUCTION. _Willard Grosvenor Bleyer_ ix - - SOME ASPECTS OF JOURNALISM. _Rollo Ogden_ 1 - - PRESS TENDENCIES AND DANGERS. _Oswald Garrison Villard_ 20 - - THE WANING POWER OF THE PRESS. _Francis E. Leupp_ 30 - - NEWSPAPER MORALS. _H. L. Mencken_ 52 - - NEWSPAPER MORALS: A REPLY. _Ralph Pulitzer_ 68 - - THE SUPPRESSION OF IMPORTANT NEWS. _Edward Alsworth Ross_ 79 - - THE PERSONAL EQUATION IN JOURNALISM. _Henry Watterson_ 97 - - THE PROBLEM OF THE ASSOCIATED PRESS. “_An Observer_” 112 - - THE ASSOCIATED PRESS: A REPLY. _Melville E. Stone_ 124 - - CONFESSIONS OF A PROVINCIAL EDITOR. “_Paracelsus_” 133 - - THE COUNTRY EDITOR OF TO-DAY. _Charles Moreau Harger_ 151 - - SENSATIONAL JOURNALISM AND THE LAW. _George W. Alger_ 167 - - THE CRITIC AND THE LAW. _Richard Washburn Child_ 181 - - HONEST LITERARY CRITICISM. _Charles Miner Thompson_ 200 - - DRAMATIC CRITICISM IN THE AMERICAN - PRESS. _James S. Metcalfe_ 224 - - THE HUMOR OF THE COLORED SUPPLEMENT. _Ralph Bergengren_ 233 - - THE AMERICAN GRUB STREET. _James H. Collins_ 243 - - JOURNALISM AS A CAREER. _Charles Moreau Harger_ 264 - - - BIBLIOGRAPHY 279 - - NOTES ON THE WRITERS 290 - - - - - INTRODUCTION - - BY WILLARD GROSVENOR BLEYER - - - I - -“The food of opinion,” as President Wilson has well said, “is the news -of the day.” The daily newspaper, for the majority of Americans, is the -sole purveyor of this food for thought. Citizens of a democracy must -read and assimilate the day’s news in order to form opinions on current -events and issues. Again, for the average citizen the newspaper is -almost the only medium for the interpretation and discussion of -questions of the day. The composite of individual opinions, which we -call public opinion, must express itself in action to be effective. The -newspaper, with its daily reiteration, is the most powerful force in -urging citizens to act in accordance with their convictions. By -reflecting the best sentiment of the community in which it is published, -the newspaper makes articulate intelligent public opinion that might -otherwise remain unexpressed. Since the success of democracy depends not -only upon intelligent public opinion but upon political action in -accordance with such opinion, it is not too much to say that the future -of democratic government in this country depends upon the character of -its newspapers. - -Yet most newspaper readers not unnaturally regard the daily paper as an -ephemeral thing to be read hurriedly and cast aside. Few appreciate the -extent to which their opinions are affected by the newspaper they read. -Nevertheless, to every newspaper reader—which means almost every person -in this country—the conditions under which newspapers are produced and -the influences that affect the character of news and editorials, should -be matters of vital concern. - -To newspaper workers and students of journalism the analysis of the -fundamental questions of their profession is of especial importance. -Discussion of current practices must precede all effort to arrive at -definite standards for the profession of journalism. Only when the -newspaper man realizes the probable effect of his work on the ideas and -ideals of thousands of readers, and hence on the character of our -democracy, does he appreciate the full significance of his news story, -headline, or editorial. - -The modern newspaper has developed so recently from simple beginnings -into a great, complex institution that no systematic and extensive study -has been made of its problems. Journalism has won recognition as a -profession only within the last seventy-five years, and professional -schools for the training of newspaper writers and editors have been in -existence less than fifteen years. In view of these conditions, it is -not surprising that definite principles and a generally accepted code of -ethics for the practice of the profession have not been formulated. - -Ideal conditions of newspaper editing and publishing are not likely to -be brought about by legislation. So jealous are the American people of -the liberty of their press that they hesitate, even when their very -existence as a nation is threatened, to impose legal restrictions on the -printing of news and opinion. If regulation does come, it should be the -result, as it has been in the professions of law and medicine, of the -creation of an enlightened public opinion in support of professional -standards adopted by journalists themselves. - -The present is an auspicious time to discuss such standards. The world -war has put to the test, not only men and machinery, but every -institution of society. Of each organized activity we ask, Is it serving -most effectively the common good? Not simply service to the state, but -service to society, is being demanded more and more of every individual -and every institution. “These are the times which try men’s souls,” and -that try no less the mediums through which men’s souls find expression. -The newspaper, as the purveyor of “food of opinion” and as the medium -for expressing opinion, must measure up to the test of the times. - - - II - -The first step in a systematic analysis of the principles of journalism -must be a consideration of the function of the newspaper in a democracy. -In the varied and voluminous contents of a typical newspaper are to be -found news of all kinds, editorial comment, illustrations of current -events, recipes, comic strips, fashions, cartoons, advice on affairs of -the heart, short stories, answers to questions on etiquette, dramatic -criticism, chapters of a serial, book reviews, verse, a “colyum,” and -advertisements. What in this mélange is the one element which -distinguishes the newspaper from all other publications? It is the daily -news. Weekly and monthly periodicals do everything that the newspaper -does, except print the news from day to day. - -Whatever other aims a newspaper may have, its primary purpose must be to -give adequate reports of the day’s news. Although various inducements -other than news may be employed to attract some persons to newspapers -who would not otherwise read them regularly, nevertheless these features -must not be so prominent or attractive that readers with limited time at -their disposal will neglect the day’s news for entertainment. - -To assist the public to grasp the significance of the news by means of -editorial interpretation and discussion, to render articulate the best -public sentiment, and to persuade citizens to act in accordance with -their opinions, constitute an important secondary function of the -newspaper. Even though the editorial may seem to exert a less direct -influence upon the opinions and political action of the average citizen -than it did in the period of great editorial leadership, nevertheless -the interpretation and discussion of timely topics in the editorial -columns of the daily press are a force in democratic government that -cannot be disregarded. - -Newspapers by their editorials can perform two peculiarly important -services to the public. First, they can show the relation of state, -national, and international questions to the home and business interests -of their readers. Only as the great issues of the day are brought home -to the average reader is he likely to become keenly interested in their -solution. Second, newspapers in their editorials can point out the -connection between local questions and state-wide, nation-wide, or -world-wide movements. Only as questions at issue in a community are -shown in their relation to larger tendencies will the average reader see -them in a perspective that will enable him to think and act most -intelligently. - -In addition to fulfilling these two functions, the newspaper may supply -its readers with practical advice and useful information, as well as -with entertaining reading matter and illustrations. There is more -justification for wholesome advice and entertainment in newspapers that -circulate largely among classes whose only reading matter is the daily -paper than there is in papers whose readers obtain these features from -other periodicals. In view of the numberless cheap, popular magazines in -this country, the extent to which daily newspapers should devote space -and money to advice and entertainment deserves careful consideration. -That without such consideration these features may encroach -unjustifiably on news and editorials seems evident. - - - III - -Since the primary function of the newspaper is to give the day’s news, -the question arises, What is news? If from the point of view of -successful democracy the value of news is determined by the extent to -which it furnishes food for thought on current topics, we are at once -given an important criterion for defining news and measuring -news-values. Thus, news is anything timely which is significant to -newspaper readers in their relation to the community, the state, and the -nation. - -This conception of news is not essentially at variance with the commonly -accepted definition of it as anything timely that interests a number of -readers, the best news being that which has greatest interest for the -greatest number. The most vital matters for both men and women are their -home and their business interests, their success and their happiness. -Anything in the day’s news that touches directly or indirectly these -things that are nearest and dearest to them, they will read with -eagerness. As they may not always be able to see at once the relation of -current events and issues to their home, business, and community -interests, it is the duty of the newspaper to present news in such a way -that its significance to the average reader will be clear. Every -newspaper man knows the value of “playing up” the “local ends” of events -that take place outside of the community in which his paper is -published, but this method of bringing home to readers the significance -to them of important news has not been as fully worked out as it will -be. On this basis the best news is that which can be shown to be most -closely related to the interests of the largest number of readers. - -“But newspapers must publish entertaining news stories as well as -significant ones,” insists the advocate of things as they are. This may -be conceded, but only with three important limitations. First, stories -for mere entertainment that deal with events of little or no news-value -must not be allowed to crowd out significant news. Second, such -entertaining news-matter must not be given so much space and prominence, -or be made so attractive, that the average reader with but limited time -in which to read his paper will neglect news of value. Third, events of -importance must not be so treated as to furnish entertainment primarily, -to the subordination of their true significance. To substitute the _hors -d’œuvres_, relishes, and dessert of the day’s happenings for nourishing -“food of opinion” is to serve an unbalanced, unwholesome mental diet. -The relish should heighten, not destroy, a taste for good food. - - - IV - -In order to furnish the average citizen with material from which to form -opinions on all current issues, so that he may vote intelligently on men -and measures, newspapers must supply significant news in as complete and -as accurate a form as possible. The only important limitations to -completeness are those imposed by the commonly accepted ideas of decency -embodied in the phrase, “All the news that’s fit to print,” and by the -rights of privacy. Carefully edited newspapers discriminate between what -the public is entitled to know and what an individual has a right to -keep private. - -Inaccuracy, due to the necessity for speed in getting news into print, -most newspapers agree must be reduced to a minimum. The establishment of -bureaus of accuracy, and constant emphasis on such mottoes as “Accuracy -First,” “Accuracy Always,” and “If you see it in the _Sun_, it’s so,” -are steps in that direction. - -Deliberate falsification of news for any purpose, good or bad, must be -regarded as an indefensible violation of the fundamental purpose of the -press. Any cause, no matter how worthy it may be, which cannot depend on -facts and truth for its support does not deserve to have facts and truth -distorted in its behalf. - -The “faking” of news can never be harmless. Even though the fictitious -touches in an apparently innocent “human-interest” or “feature” story -may be recognized by most readers, yet the effect is harmful. “It’s only -a newspaper story,” expresses the all-too-common attitude of a public -whose confidence in the reliability of newspapers has been undermined by -news stories wholly or partially “faked.” - -The “coloring,” adulteration, and suppression of news as “food of -opinion” is as dangerous to the body politic as similar manipulation of -food-stuffs was to the physical bodies of our people before such -practices were forbidden by law. How completely the opinions and moral -judgments of a whole nation may be perverted by deliberate “coloring” -and suppression of news, in this case by its own government, was -demonstrated in Germany immediately before and during the world war. - -The jury of newspaper readers must have “the truth, the whole truth, and -nothing but the truth,” if it is to give an intelligent verdict. - - - V - -The so-called “yellow journals” are glaring examples of newspapers built -up on news and editorial policies shaped to attract undiscriminating -readers by sensational methods. By constantly emphasizing sensational -news and by “sensationalizing” and “melodramatizing” news that is not -sufficiently startling, as well as by editorials stirring up class -feeling among the masses against the monied and ruling classes, “yellow -journals” have been able to outstrip all other papers in circulation. - -Unquestionably the most serious aspect of the influence of sensational -and yellow journalism is the distorted view of life thus given. Because -these papers are widely read by the partially assimilated groups of -foreign immigrants in large centres of population, like New York and -Chicago, they exert a particularly dangerous influence by giving these -future citizens a wrong conception of American society and government. -That the false ideas of our life and institutions given to foreign -elements of our population while they are in the process of becoming -Americanized are a serious menace to this country, requires no proof. No -matter who the readers may be, however, news that is “colored” to appear -“yellow,” and misleading editorials, will always be dangerous to the -public welfare. - - - VI - -The treatment of sensational events, particularly those involving crime -and scandal, undoubtedly constitutes one of the difficult problems of -all newspapers. The demoralizing effect of accounts of criminal and -vicious acts, when read by immature and morally unstable individuals, is -generally admitted. On the other hand, fear of publicity and consequent -disgrace to the wrong-doer and his family, is a powerful deterrent. -Moreover, if newspapers suppressed news of crime and vice, citizens -might remain ignorant of the extent to which they existed in the -community, and consequently, with the aid of a corrupt local government, -wrong-doing might flourish until it was a menace to every member of the -community. - -To give sufficient publicity to news of crime and scandal in order to -provide the necessary deterrent effect, to furnish readers with the -information to which they are entitled, and at the same time to present -such news so that it will not give offense or encourage morally weak -readers to emulate the criminal and the vicious, define the middle -course which exponents of constructive journalism must steer. - - - VII - -Criticisms of the newspaper of the present day should not leave us with -the impression that the American press is deteriorating. No one who -compares the newspaper of to-day with its predecessors of fifty, -seventy-five, or a hundred years ago, can fail to appreciate how -immeasurably superior in every respect is the press of the present day. -In our newspapers now there is much less of narrow political -partisanship, much less of editorial vituperation and personal abuse, -much less of objectionable advertising, and relatively less news of -crime and scandal. Viewed from a distance of more than half a century, -great American editors loom large, but a critical study of the papers -they edited shows their limitations. They were pioneers in a new -land,—for modern journalism began but eighty-five years ago,—and as -such, they deserve all honor for blazing the trail; but we must not be -blind to the defects of the papers that they produced, any more than we -may overlook the faults of the press of our own day. - -The period of the struggle against slavery culminating in the Civil War -was one of great editorial leadership. To say that it was the era of -great “views-papers” and that the present is the day of great -“news-papers” is to sum up the essential difference between the two -periods. In terms of democratic government, this means that citizens of -the older day were accustomed to accept as their own, political opinions -furnished them ready-made by their favorite editor, whereas voters -to-day want to form their own opinions on the basis of the news and -editorials furnished them by their favorite paper. This greater -independence of judgment, with its corollary, greater independence in -voting, is a long step forward toward a more complete democracy. - - - VIII - -The recent development of community spirit as a means of realizing more -fully the ideals of democracy by fostering greater solidarity among the -diverse elements of our population, has been reflected in the news -policies of many papers. By “playing up” news that tends to the -upbuilding of the community, and by “playing down,” and even eliminating -entirely, news that tends to exert an unwholesome influence, newspapers -in various parts of the country have developed a type of constructive -journalism. Such consideration for the effect of news on readers as -members of the community, and hence on community life, is one of the -most important forward steps taken by the modern newspaper. - -Although occasion may arise from time to time for newspapers to turn the -searchlight of publicity on social and political corruption, the feeling -is gaining strength that newspaper crusades in the interests of -institutions and movements making for community uplift are even more -important than the continued exposure of evils. Many aggressive, -crusading papers, accordingly, have turned from a policy of exposing -such conditions to the constructive purpose of showing how various -agencies may be used for community development. “Searchlight” journalism -is thus giving way to “sunlight” journalism. A constructive policy that -aims to handle local news and “local ends” of all news in such a manner -that they will exert a wholesome, upbuilding influence on the community, -is one of the most potent forces making for a better democracy. - - - IX - -With the entry of the United States into world-affairs in coöperation -with other nations, a new duty was placed upon the American press. For a -number of years before the world war the amount of foreign news in the -average American newspaper was very limited. With the decline of weekly -letters from foreign countries written by well-known correspondents, and -the reliance by newspapers on the great press associations for foreign -news, readers had had relatively less news of importance from abroad -than formerly. The world war naturally changed this condition -completely. - -Unless the United States decides finally to return to its former policy -of isolation, American citizens must be kept in touch with important -movements in other nations, so that they can form intelligent opinions -in regard to the relation of this country to these nations. Since the -daily newspaper is the principal medium for presenting such news, it is -clear that newspapers must be prepared to present significant foreign -news in such a manner that it will attract readers, by connecting it -with their interests as American citizens. - - - X - -How the future will solve the problems of journalism must be largely a -matter of conjecture. Temporarily the world war has given rise to -peculiar problems, none of which, however, seems likely to have -permanent effects on our newspapers. Censorship of news and of editorial -discussion has precipitated anew the ever-perplexing question of the -exact limits of the liberty of the press in war times. War, too, has -made clearer the pernicious influence resulting from the dissemination -throughout the world of “colored” news by means of semi-official news -agencies subsidized and controlled by some of the European nations. The -extent to which a whole nation may be kept in the dark by government -control of news and discussion, as well as the impossibility of other -nations getting important information to the people of such a country, -has been strikingly exemplified by Germany and Austro-Hungary. The need -of definite provision for international freedom of the press has been -pointed out as an essential factor in any programme for permanent peace. - -The rise in the price of print paper and increased cost of production, -largely the result of war conditions, have led so generally to the -raising of the price of papers from one to two cents that the penny -paper bids fair to disappear entirely. This increase in price has not -appreciably reduced circulation. To economize in the use of paper during -the war, many papers have reduced the number of pages by cutting down -the amount of reading matter. Whether or not these changes will continue -when normal conditions of business are restored cannot be predicted. - -Endowed newspapers, municipal newspapers, and even university -newspapers, have been proposed as possible solutions of the problems of -the press. Of these proposals only one, the municipal newspaper, has had -a trial, and even that has not been tried under conditions that permit -any conclusions as to its feasibility. Although there has been a marked -tendency, hastened by the war, toward government ownership or control of -railroad, telegraph, and telephone lines, which, like newspapers, are -private enterprises that perform a public function, there has been no -corresponding movement looking toward ownership or control of newspapers -by the federal, state, or local government. - -Effective organization of newspaper writers and editors has been urged -as a means of establishing definite standards for the profession. It -seems remarkable that in this age of organization newspaper workers are -the only members of a great profession who have no national association. -Newspaper publishers, circulation managers, advertising men, and the -editor-publishers of weekly and small daily newspapers have such -organizations. For free-lance writers there is the Authors’ League of -America. In several Middle Western states organizations of city editors -have been effected; but a movement to unite them into a national -association has not as yet made much progress. - -Two national newspaper conferences have been held under academic -auspices to discuss the problems of journalism, the first at the -University of Wisconsin in 1912, and the second at the University of -Kansas, two years later. Although a number of leaders in the profession -took part in the programmes and interesting discussion resulted, the -attendance of newspaper workers was not sufficiently large to be -representative of the country as a whole, and no permanent organization -was effected. - -That a national organization of newspaper men and women is neither -impossible nor ineffectual has been demonstrated in Great Britain, where -three of such associations have been active for a number of years. The -Institute of Journalists of Great Britain, an association of newspaper -editors and proprietors, holds an annual conference for the discussion -of current questions in journalism and has had as its head such -distinguished journalists as Robert Donald of the London _Daily -Chronicle_, A. G. Gardiner of the London _Daily News_, and J. L. Garvin, -formerly editor of the _Pall Mall Gazette_ and now editor of the -_Observer_. The other associations are the National Union of -Journalists, composed exclusively of newspaper workers, which maintains -“branches” and “district councils” in addition to the national -association; and the Society of Women Journalists. - - - XI - -There is no one simple solution for the complex problems of journalism. -In so far as the newspaper is a private business enterprise, it will -continue to adjust itself to the steadily advancing standards of the -business world. “Service,” the new watchword in business, is already -being taken up by the business departments of newspapers in relation to -both advertisers and readers. The rejection of objectionable advertising -and the guaranteeing of all advertising published have been among the -first steps taken toward serving both readers and honest business men by -protecting them against unscrupulous advertisers. When it is generally -accepted in the business world that service, as well as honesty, is the -best policy, no newspaper can long afford to pursue any other. - -Nor need private ownership be a menace to the completeness and accuracy -with which newspapers present news and opinion. Just as business men are -coming to realize that truthful advertising is most effective and that a -satisfied customer is the best advertiser, so newspapers are coming more -and more to appreciate the fact that accuracy and fair play in news and -editorials are also “good business.” Neither the public nor a majority -of editors and publishers can afford to permit unscrupulous private -ownership to impair seriously the usefulness and integrity of any -newspaper. - -In so far as the newspaper performs a public function, its usefulness -will be measured by the character of the service that it renders. Its -standing will be determined by the extent to which it serves faithfully -the community, the state, and the nation. Whatever principles are -formulated and whatever code is adopted for the profession of journalism -will be based on the fundamental idea of service to the people—to the -masses as well as to the classes. - -Newspaper workers, from the “cub” reporter to the editor-in-chief, will -be recognized as public servants, not as mere employees of a private -business. The high standards maintained by them in newspaper offices -will reinforce the ideal of public service held up before college men -and women preparing themselves for journalism. The public will -understand more fully than it ever has done the necessity of supporting -heartily the standards established by newspapers themselves. Requests to -“keep it out of the paper” and threats of “stop my paper” will be less -frequent when advertisers, business men, and readers see that such -attempts at coercion are an indefensible interference with an -institution whose first duty is to the public. - -With an ever-increasing appreciation of the value of its service in -business relations and with an ever-broadening conception of its duties -and responsibilities, the newspaper of to-morrow may be depended on to -do its part in the greatest of all national and international tasks, -that of “making the world safe for democracy.” - - - - - THE PROFESSION OF JOURNALISM - - - - - SOME ASPECTS OF JOURNALISM - - BY ROLLO OGDEN - - - I - -It is, in a way, a form of flattery, in the eyes of modern journalism, -that it should be put on its defense—added to the fascinating list of -“problems.” This is a tribute to its importance. The compliment may -often seem oblique. An editor will, at times, feel himself placed in -much the same category as a famous criminal—a warning, a horrible -example, a target for reproof, but still an interesting object. That -last is the redeeming feature. If the newspaper of to-day can only be -sure that it excites interest in the multitude, it is content. For to -force itself upon the general notice is the main purpose of its spirit -of shrill insistence, which so many have noted and so many have -disliked. - -But the clamorous and assertive tone of the daily press may charitably -be thought of as a natural reaction from its low estate of a few -generations back. Upstart families or races usually have bad manners, -and the newspaper, as we know it, is very much of an upstart. For long, -its lot was contempt and contumely. In the first half of the eighteenth -century, writing in general was reduced to extremities. Dr. Johnson says -of Richard Savage that, “having no profession, he became by necessity an -author.” But there was a lower deep, and that was journalism. Warburton -wrote of one who is chiefly known by being pilloried in the _Dunciad_ -that he “ended in the common sink of all such writers, a political -newspaper.” Even later it was recorded of the Rev. Dr. Dodd, author of -the _Beauties of Shakespeare_, that he “descended so low as to become -editor of a newspaper.” After that, but one step remained—to the -gallows; and this was duly taken by Dr. Dodd in 1777, when he was hanged -for forgery. A calling digged from such a pit may, without our special -wonder, display something of the push and insolence natural in a class -whose privileges were long so slender or so questioned that they must be -loudly proclaimed for fear that they may be forgotten. - -This flaunting and over-emphasis also go well with the charge that the -press of to-day is commercialized. That accusation no one undertaking to -comment on newspapers can pass unnoticed. Yet why should journalism be -exempt? It is as freely asserted that colleges are commercialized; the -theatre is accused of knowing no standard but that of the box-office; -politics has the money-taint upon it; and even the church is arraigned -for ignoring the teachings of St. James, and being too much a respecter -of the persons of the rich. If it is true that the commercial spirit -rules the press, it is at least in good company. In actual fact, -occasional instances of gross and unscrupulous financial control of -newspapers for selfish or base ends must be admitted to exist. There are -undoubtedly some editors who bend their conscience to their dealing. -Newspaper proprietors exist who sell themselves for gain. But this is -not what is ordinarily meant by the charge of commercialization. -Reference is, rather, to the newspaper as a money-making institution. -“When shall we have a journal,” asked a clergyman not long ago, “that -will be published without advertisements?” - -The answer is, never—at least, I hope so, for the good of American -journalism. We have no official press. We have no subsidized press. We -have not even an endowed press. What that would be in this country I can -scarcely imagine, but I am sure it would have little or no influence. A -newspaper carries weight only as it can point to evidence of public -sympathy and support. But that means a business side; it means -patronage; it means an eye to money. A newspaper, like an army, goes -upon its belly—though it does not follow that it must eat dirt. The -dispute about being commercialized is always a question of more or less. -When Horace Greeley founded the _Tribune_ in 1841, he had but a thousand -dollars of his own in cash. Yet his struggle to make the paper a going -concern was just as intense as if he were starting it to-day with a -capital (and it would be needed) of a million. Greeley, to his honor be -it said, refused from the beginning to take certain advertisements. But -so do newspaper proprietors to-day whose expenses per week are more than -Greeley’s were for the first year. - -The immensely large capital now required for the conduct of a daily -newspaper in a great city has had important consequences. It has made -the newspaper more of an institution, less of a personal organ. Men no -longer designate journals by the owner’s or editor’s name. It used to be -Bryant’s paper, or Greeley’s paper, or Raymond’s, or Bennett’s. Now it -is simply _Times_, _Herald_, _Tribune_, and so on. No single personality -can stamp itself upon the whole organism. It is too vast. It is a great -piece of property, to be administered with skill; it is a carefully -planned organization which best produces the effect when the -personalities of those who work for it are swallowed up. The individual -withers, but the newspaper is more and more. Journalism becomes -impersonal. There are no more “great editors,” but there is a finer -_esprit de corps_, better “team play,” an institution more and more -firmly established and able to justify itself. - -Large capital in newspapers, and their heightened earning power, tend to -steady them. Freaks and rash experiments are also shut out by lack of -means. Greeley reckoned up a hundred or more newspapers that had died in -New York before 1850. Since that time it would be hard to name ten. I -can remember but two metropolitan dailies within twenty-five years that -have absolutely suspended publication. Only contrast the state of things -in Parisian journalism. There must be at least thirty daily newspapers -in the French capital. Few of them have the air of living off their own -business. Yet the necessary capital and the cost of production are so -much smaller than ours that their various backers can afford to keep -them afloat. But this fact does not make their sincerity or purity the -more evident. On the contrary, the rumor of sinister control is more -frequently circulated in connection with the French press than with our -own. Our higher capitalization helps us. Just because a great sum is -invested, it cannot be imperiled by allowing unscrupulous men to make -use of the newspaper property; for that way ruin lies, in the end. The -corrupt employment has to be concealed. If it had been known surely, for -example, that Mr. Morgan, or Mr. Ryan, or Mr. Harriman owned a New York -newspaper, and was utilizing it as a means of furthering his schemes, -support would speedily have failed it, and it would soon have dried up -from the roots. - -This give and take between the press and the public is vital to a just -conception of American journalism. The editor does not nonchalantly -project his thoughts into the void. He listens for the echo of his -words. His relation to his supporters is not unlike Gladstone’s -definition of the intimate connection between the orator and his -audience. As the speaker gets from his hearers in mist what he gives -back in shower, so the newspaper receives from the public as well as -gives to it. Too often it gets as dust what it gives back as mud; but -that does not alter the relation. Action and reaction are all the while -going on between the press and its patrons. Hence it follows that the -responsibility for the more crying evils of journalism must be divided. - -I would urge no exculpation for the editor who exploits crime, scatters -filth, and infects the community with moral poison. The original -responsibility is his, and it is a fearful one. But it is not solely -his. The basest and most demoralizing journal that lives, lives by -public approval or tolerance. Its readers and advertisers have its life -in their hands. At a word from them, it would either reform or die. They -have the power of “recall” over it, as it is by some proposed to grant -the people a power of recall over bad representatives in legislature or -Congress. The very dependence of the press upon support gives its -patrons the power of life and death over it. - -Advertisers are known to go to a newspaper office to seek favors, -sometimes improper, often innocent. Why should they, and mere readers, -too, not exercise their implied right to protest against vulgarity, the -exaggeration of the trivial, hysteria, indecency, immorality, in the -newspaper which they are asked to buy or to patronize? To a journalist -of the offensive class they could say: “You excuse yourself by alleging -that you simply give what the public demands; but we say that your very -assertion is an insult to us and an outrage upon the public. You say -that nobody protests against your course; well, we are here to protest. -You point to your sales; we tell you that, unless you mend your columns, -we will buy no more.” There lies here, I am persuaded, a vast unused -power for the toning up of our journalism. At any rate, the reform of a -free press in a free people can be brought about only by some such -reaction of the medium upon the instrument. Legislation direct would be -powerless. Sir Samuel Romilly perceived this when he argued in -Parliament against proposals to restrict by law the “licentious press.” -He said that, if the press were more licentious than formerly, it was -because it had not yet got over the evils of earlier arbitrary control; -and the only sure way to reform it was to make it still more free. -Romilly would doubtless have agreed that a free people will, in the long -run, have as good newspapers as it wants and deserves to have. - -As it is, public sentiment has a way, on occasion, of speaking through -the press with astonishing directness and power. All the noise and -extravagance, the ignorance and the distortion, cannot obscure this. -There is a rough but great value in the mere publicity which the -newspaper affords. The free handling of rulers has much for the credit -side. When Senior was talking with Thiers in 1856, the conversation fell -upon the severe press laws under Napoleon III. The Englishman said that -perhaps these were due to the license of newspapers in the time of the -foregoing republic, when their attacks on public men were often the -extreme of scurrility. “C’était horrible,” said Thiers; “mais, pour moi, -j’aime mieux être gouverné par des honnêtes gens qu’on traite comme des -voleurs, que par des voleurs qu’on traite en honnêtes gens.”[1] And when -you have some powerful robbers to invoke the popular verdict upon, there -is nothing like modern journalism for doing the job thoroughly. Those -great names in our business and political firmament which lately have -fallen like Lucifer, dreaded exposure in the press most of all. Courts -and juries they could have faced with equanimity; or, rather, their -lawyers would have done it for them in the most beautiful illustration -of the law’s delay. But the very clamor of newspaper publicity was like -an embodied public conscience pronouncing condemnation—every headline an -officer. I know of no other power on earth that could have stripped away -from these rogues every shelter which their money could buy, and have -been to them such an advance section of the Day of Judgment. In the -immense publicity that dogged them they saw that worst of all -punishments described by Shelley:— - - —when thou must _appear_ to be - That which thou art internally; - And after many a false and fruitless crime, - Scorn track thy lagging fall. - -Footnote 1: - - “It is terrible, but for my part, I would rather be governed by honest - men who are treated as though they were thieves, than by thieves who - are treated as though they were honest men.”—ED. - - - II - -It is, no doubt, a belief in this honestly and wholesomely scourging -power of newspapers which has made the champions of modern democracy -champions also of the freedom of the press. It has not been seriously -hampered or shackled in this country; but the history of its -emancipation from burdensome taxation in England shows how the -progressive and reactionary motives or temperaments come to view. When -Gladstone was laboring, fifty years ago, to remove the last special tax -upon newspapers, Lord Salisbury—he was then Lord Robert Cecil—opposed -him with some of his finest sneers. Could it be maintained that a person -of any education could learn anything from a penny paper? It might be -said that the people would learn from the press what had been uttered by -their representatives in Parliament, but how much would that add to -their education? They might even discover the opinions of the editor. -All this was very interesting, but it did not carry real instruction to -the mind. To talk about a tax on newspapers being a tax on knowledge was -a prostitution of real education. And so on. But contrast this with John -Bright’s opinion. In a letter written in 1885, but not published till -this year, he said: “Few men in England owe so much to the press as I -do. Its progress has been very great. I was one of those who worked -earnestly to overthrow the system of taxation which from the time of -Queen Anne had fettered, I might almost say, strangled it out of -existence.... I hope the editors and conductors of our journals may -regard themselves as under a great responsibility, as men engaged in the -great work of instructing and guiding our people.... On the faithful -performance of their duties, on their truthfulness and their adherence -to the moral law, the future of our country depends.” - -To pass from these ideals to the tendencies and perplexities of -newspapers as they are is not possible without the sensation of a jar. -For specimens of the faults found in even the reputable press by -fair-minded men we may turn to a recent address before a university -audience by Professor Butcher. Admitting that journalism had never -before been “so many-sided, so well informed, so intellectually alert,” -he yet noted several literary and moral defects. Of these he dwelt first -upon “hasty production.” “Formerly, the question was, who is to have the -last word; now it is a wild race between journalists as to who will get -the _first_ word.” The professor found the marks of hurry written all -over modern newspapers. Breathless haste could not but affect the -editorial style. “It is smartly pictorial, restless, impatient, -emphatic.” This charge no editor of a daily paper can find it in his -heart confidently to attempt to repel. His work has to be done under -narrow and cramping conditions of time. The hour of going to press is -ever before him as an inexorable fate. And that judgments formed and -opinions expressed under such stress are often of a sort that one would -fain withdraw, no sane writer for the press thinks of denying. This -ancient handicap of the pressman was described by Cowper in 1780. “I -began to think better of his [Burke’s] cause,” he wrote to the Rev. Mr. -Unwin, “and burnt my verses. Such is the lot of the man who writes upon -the subject of the day; the aspect of affairs changes in an hour or two, -and his opinion with it; what was just and well-deserved satire in the -morning, in the evening becomes a libel; the author commences his own -judge, and, while he condemns with unrelenting severity what he so -lately approved, is sorry to find that he has laid his leaf gold upon -touchwood, which crumbled away under his finger.” - -While all this is sorrowfully true,—to none so sorrowful as those who -have it frequently borne in upon them by personal experience,—it is, -after all, _du métier_. It is a condition under which the work must be -done, or not at all. A public which occasionally disapproves of a -newspaper too quick on the trigger would not put up at all with one -which held its fire too long. And there is, when all is said, a good -deal of the philosophy of life in the compulsion to “go to press.” Only -in that spirit can the rough work of the world get done. The artist may -file and polish endlessly; the genius may brood; but the newspaper man -must cut short his search for the full thought or the perfect phrase, -and get into type with the best at the moment attainable. At any rate, -this makes for energy decision, and a ready practicality. Life is made -up of such compromises, such forced adjustments, such constant striving -for the ideal with the necessitated acceptance of the closest approach -to it possible, as are of the very atmosphere in the office of a daily -newspaper. But the result is got. The pressure may be bad for literary -technique but at all events it forces out the work. If Lord Acton had -known something of the driving motives of a journalist, he would not -have spent fifty years collecting material for a great history of -liberty, and then died before being quite persuaded in his own mind that -he was ready to write it. The counsel of wisdom which Mr. Brooke gives -in _Middlemarch_ need never be addressed to a newspaper writer; that he -must “pull up” in time, every day teaches him. - -Professor Butcher also drew an ingenious parallel between the Sophists -of ancient Greece and present-day journalists. It was not very -flattering to the latter. One of the points of comparison was that -“their pretensions were high and their basis of knowledge generally -slight.” Now, “ignorance,” added the uncomplimentary professor, “has its -own appropriate manner, and most journalists, being very clever fellows, -are, when they are ignorant, conscious of their ignorance. A fine, -elusive manner is therefore adopted; it is enveloped in a haze.” To this -charge, also, a bold and full plea of not guilty cannot be entered by a -newspaper man. If his own conscience would allow it, he knows that too -many of his own calling would rise up to confute him. The jokes, flings, -stories, confessions are too numerous about the easy and empty -assumptions of omniscience by the press. Mr. Barrie has, in his -reminiscential _When a Man’s Single_, told too many tales out of the -sanctum. Some of them bear on the point in hand. For example:— - -“‘I am not sure that I know what the journalistic instinct precisely -is,’ Rob said, ‘and still less whether I possess it.’ - -“‘Ah, just let me put you through your paces,’ replied Simms. ‘Suppose -yourself up for an exam. in journalism, and that I am your examiner. -Question One: The house was soon on fire; much sympathy is expressed -with the sufferers. Can you translate that into newspaper English?’ - -“‘Let me see,’ answered Rob, entering into the spirit of the -examination. ‘How would this do: In a moment the edifice was enveloped -in shooting tongues of flame; the appalling catastrophe has plunged the -whole street into the gloom of night’? - -“‘Good. Question Two: A man hangs himself; what is the technical heading -for this?’ - -“‘Either “Shocking Occurrence” or “Rash Act.’” - -“‘Question Three: _Pabulum, Cela va sans dire, Par excellence, Ne plus -ultra._ What are these? Are there any more of them?’ - -“‘They are scholarships,’ replied Rob; ‘and there are two more, namely, -_Tour de force_ and _Terra firma_.’ - -“‘Question Four: A. (a soldier) dies at 6 P.M. with his back to the foe; -B. (a philanthropist) dies at 1 A.M.; which of these, speaking -technically, would you call a creditable death?’ - -“‘The soldier’s, because time was given to set it.’ - -“‘Quite right. Question Five: Have you ever known a newspaper which did -not have the largest circulation and was not the most influential -advertising medium?’ - -“‘Never.’ - -“‘Well, Mr. Angus,’ said Simms, tiring of the examination, ‘you have -passed with honors.’” - -Many cynical admissions by the initiate could be quoted. The question -was recently put to a young man who had a place on the staff of a -morning newspaper: “Are you not often brought to a standstill for lack -of knowledge?” “No,” he replied, “as a rule I go gayly ahead, and -without a pause. My only difficulty is when I happen to know something -of the subject.” But no one takes these sarcasms too seriously. They are -a part of the Bohemian tradition of journalism. But Bohemianism has gone -out of the newspaper world, as the profession has become more -specialized, more of a serious business. Even in his time, Jules Janin, -writing to Madame de Girardin apropos of her _École des Journalistes_, -happily exposed the “assumption that good leading articles ever were or -ever could be produced over punch and broiled bones, amidst intoxication -and revelry.” - -Editors may still be ignorant, but at any rate they are not unblushingly -devil-may-care about it. They do not take their work as a pure lark. -They try to get their facts right. And the appreciation of accurate -knowledge, if not always the market for it, is certainly higher now in -newspaper offices than it used to be. The multiplied apparatus of -information has done at least that for the profession. Much of its -knowledge may be “index-learning,” but at any rate it gets the eel by -the tail. And the editor has a fairish retort for the general writer in -the fact that the latter might more often be caught tripping if he had -to produce his wisdom on demand and get it irrevocably down in black and -white and in a thousand hands without time for consideration or -amendment. This truth was frankly put by Motley in a letter to Holmes in -1862: “I take great pleasure in reading your prophecies, and intend to -be just as free in hazarding my own.... If you make mistakes, you shall -never hear of them again, and I promise to forget them. Let me ask the -same indulgence from you in return. This is what makes letter-writing a -comfort, and journalism dangerous.” - -It is a distinction which an editor may well lay to his soul when -accused of being a mere Gigadibs— - - You, for example, clever to a fault, - The rough and ready man who write apace, - Read somewhat seldomer, think, perhaps, even less. - -Even in journalism, the Spanish proverb holds that knowing something -does not take up any room—_el saber no ocupa lugar_. Special information -is, as I often have occasion to say to applicants for work, the one -thing that gives a stranger a chance in a newspaper office. The most -out-of-the-way knowledge has a trick of falling pat to the day’s need. A -successful London journalist got his first foothold by knowing all about -Scottish Disruption, when that struggle between the Established and Free -churches burst upon the horizon. The editor simply had to have the -services of a man who could tell an interested English public all about -the question which was setting the heather afire. Similarly, not long -since, a young American turned up in New York with apparently the most -hopeless outfit for journalistic work. He had spent eight years in Italy -studying mediæval church history—and that was his basis for thinking he -could write for a daily paper of the palpitating present! But it -happened just then that the aged Leo XIII drew to his end, and here was -a man who knew all the _Papabili_—cardinals and archbishops; who -understood thoroughly the ceremony and procedure of electing a pope; who -was drenched in all the actualities of the situation, and who could, -therefore, write about it with an intelligence and sympathy which made -his work compel acceptance, and gave him entrance into journalism by the -unlikely Porta Romana. It is but an instance of the way in which a -profession growing more serious is bound to take knowledge more -seriously. - - - III - -It is, however, what Sir Wemyss Reid called the “Wegotism” of the press -that some fastidious souls find more offensive than its occasional -betrayals of crass ignorance. Lecky remarked upon it, in his chapters on -the rise of newspapers in England. “Few things to a reflecting mind are -more curious than the extraordinary weight which is attached to the -anonymous expression of political opinion. Partly by the illusion of the -imagination, partly by the weight of emphatic assertion, a plural -pronoun, conspicuous type, and continual repetition, unknown men are -able, without exciting any surprise or sense of incongruity, to assume -the language of the accredited representatives of the nation, and to -rebuke, patronize, or insult its leading men with a tone of authority -which would not be tolerated from the foremost statesmen of their time.” - -A remedy frequently suggested is signed editorials. Let the Great -Unknown come out from behind his veil of anonymity, and drop his “plural -of majesty.” Then we should know him for the insignificant and -negligible individual he is. It is true that some hesitating attempts of -that kind have been made in this country, mostly in the baser -journalism, but they have not succeeded. There is no reason to think -that this practice will ever take root among us. It arose in France -under conditions of rigorous press censorship, and really goes in spirit -with the wish of government or society to limit that perfect freedom of -discussion which anonymous journalism alone can enjoy. Legal -responsibility is, of course, fixed in the editor and proprietors. Nor -is the literary disguise, as a rule, of such great consequence, or so -difficult to penetrate. Most editors would feel like making the same -answer to an aggrieved person that Swift gave to one of his victims. In -one of his short poems he threw some of his choicest vitriol upon one -Bettesworth, a lawyer of considerable eminence, who in a rage went to -Swift and demanded whether he was the author of that poem. The Dean’s -reply was: “Mr. Bettesworth, I was in my youth acquainted with great -lawyers who, knowing my disposition to satire, advised me that, if any -scoundrel or blockhead whom I had lampooned should ask, ‘Are you the -author of this paper?’ I should tell him that I was not the author; and -therefore I tell you, Mr. Bettesworth, that I am not the author of these -lines.” - -But the real defense of impersonal journalism lies in the conception of -a newspaper, not as an individual organ, but as a public institution. -Walter Bagehot, in his _Physics and Politics_, uses the newspaper as a -good illustration of an organism subduing everything to type. Individual -style becomes blended in the common style. The excellent work of -assistant editors is ascribed to their chief, just as his blunders are -shouldered off upon them. It becomes impossible to dissect out the -separate personalities which contribute to the making up of the whole. -The paper represents, not one man’s thought, but a body of opinion. -Behind what is said each day stands a long tradition. Writers, -reviewers, correspondents, clientele, add their mite, but it is little -more than Burns’s snowflake falling into the river. The great stream -flows on. I would not minimize personality in journalism. It has counted -enormously; it still counts. But the institutional, representative idea -is now most telling. The play of individuality is much restricted; has -to do more with minor things than great policies. John Stuart Mill, in a -letter of 1863 to Motley, very well hit off what may be called the -chance rôle of the individual in modern journalism: “The line it [the -London _Times_] takes on any particular question is much more a matter -of accident than is supposed. It is sometimes better than the public, -and sometimes worse. It was better on the Competitive Examinations and -on the Revised Educational Code, in each case owing to the accidental -position of a particular man who happened to write on it—both which men -I could name to you.” - -Wendell Phillips told of once taking a letter to the editor of a Boston -paper, whom he knew, with a request that it be published. The editor -read it over, and said, “Mr. Phillips, that is a very good and -interesting letter, and I shall be glad to publish it; but I wish you -would consent to strike out the last paragraph.” - -“Why,” said Phillips, “that paragraph is the precise thing for which I -wrote the whole letter. Without that it would be pointless.” - -“Oh, I see that,” replied the editor; “and what you say in it is -perfectly true,—the very children in the streets know that it is true. I -fully agree with it all myself. Yet it is one of those things which it -will not do to say publicly. However, if you insist upon it, I will -publish the letter as it stands.” - -It was published the next morning, and along with it a short editorial -reference to it, saying that a letter from Mr. Phillips would be found -in another column, and that it was extraordinary that so keen a mind as -his should have fallen into the palpable absurdity contained in the last -paragraph. - -The story suggests the harmful side of the interaction between press and -public. It sometimes puts a great strain upon the intellectual honesty -of the editor. He is doubtful how much truth his public will bear. His -audience may seem to him, on occasions, minatory, as well as, on others, -encouraging. So hard is it for the journalist to be sure, with Dr. -Arnold, that the times will always bear what an honest man has to say. -At this point, undoubtedly, we come upon the moral perils of the -newspaper man. And when outsiders believe that he writes to order, or -without conviction, they naturally hold a low view of his occupation. - -Journalism, wrote Mrs. Mark Pattison in 1879, “harms those, even the -most gifted, who continue in it after early life. They cannot honestly -write the kind of thing required for their public if they are really -striving to reach the highest level of thought and work possible to -themselves.” If this were always and absolutely true, little could be -said for the Fourth Estate. We should all have to agree with James -Smith, of _Rejected Addresses_ fame:— - - Hard is his lot who edits, thankless job! - A Sunday journal for the factious mob. - With bitter paragraph and caustic jest, - He gives to turbulence the day of rest, - Condemn’d this week rash rancor to instil, - Or thrown aside, the next, for one who will. - Alike undone, or if he praise or rail - (For this affects his safety, that his sale), - He sinks, alas, in luckless limbo set— - If loud for libel, and if dumb for debt. - -The real libel, however, would be the assertion that the work of -American journalism is done to any large extent in that spirit of the -galley slave. With all its faults, it is imbued with the desire of being -of public service. That is often overlaid by other motives—money-making, -timeserving, place-hunting. But at the high demand of a great moral or -political crisis, it will assert itself, and editors will be found as -ready as their fellows to hazard their all for the common weal. To show -what sort of fire may burn at the heart of the true journalist, I append -a letter never before published:— - - “NEW YORK, _April 23, 1867_. - - “There is a man here named Barnard, on the bench of the Supreme - Court. Some years ago he kept a gambling saloon in San Francisco, - and was a notorious blackleg and _vaurien_. He came then to New - York, plunged into the basest depths of city politics, and emerged - Recorder. After two or three years he got by the same means to be a - judge of the Supreme Court. His reputation is now of the very worst. - He is unscrupulous, audacious, barefaced, and corrupt to the last - degree. He not only takes bribes, but he does not even wait for them - to be offered him. He sends for suitors, or rather for their - counsel, and asks for the money as the price of his judgments. A - more unprincipled scoundrel does not breathe. There is no way in - which he does not prostitute his office, and in saying this I am - giving you the unanimous opinion of the bar and the public. His - appearance on the bench I consider literally an awful occurrence. - Yet the press and bar are muzzled,—for that is what it comes to,—and - this injurious scoundrel has actually got possession of the highest - court in the State, and dares the Christian public to expose his - villainy. - - “If I were satisfied that, if the public knew all this, it would lie - down under it, I would hand the _Nation_ over to its creditors and - take myself and my children out of the community. I will not believe - that yet. I am about to say all I dare say—as yet—in the _Nation_ - to-morrow. Barnard is capable of ruining us, if he thought it worth - his while, and could of course imprison me for contempt, if he took - it into his head, and I should have no redress. You have no idea - what a labyrinth of wickedness and chicane surrounds him. Moreover, - I have no desire either for notoriety or martyrdom, and am in - various ways not well fitted to take a stand against rascality on - such a scale as this. But this I do think, that it is the duty of - every honest man to do something. Barnard has now got possession of - the courts, and if he can silence the press also, where is reform to - come from?... I think some movement ought to be set on foot having - for its object the hunting down of corrupt politicians, the exposure - of jobs, the sharpening of the public conscience on the whole - subject of political purity. If this cannot be done, the growing - wealth will kill—not the nation, but the form of government without - which, as you and I believe, the nation would be of little value to - humanity.” - -This was written to Professor Charles Eliot Norton by the late Edwin -Lawrence Godkin. The Barnard referred to was, of course, the infamous -judge from whom, a few years later, the judicial robes were stripped. -Mr. Godkin’s attack upon him was, so far as I know, the first that was -made in print. But the passion of indignation which glowed in that great -journalist, with his willingness to hazard his own fortunes in the -public behalf, only sets forth conspicuously what humbler members of the -press feel as their truest motive and their noblest reward. - - - - - PRESS TENDENCIES AND DANGERS - - BY OSWALD GARRISON VILLARD - -The passing of the _Boston Journal_, in the eighty-fourth year of its -age, by merger with the _Boston Herald_ has rightly been characterized -as a tragedy of journalism. Yet it is no more significant than the -similar merger of the _Cleveland Plain Dealer_ and the _Cleveland -Leader_, or the _New York Press_ and the _New York Sun_. All are in -obedience to the drift toward consolidation which has been as marked in -journalism as in other spheres of business activity—for this is purely a -business matter. True, in the cases of the Sun and the _Press_ Mr. -Munsey’s controlling motive was probably the desire to obtain the -Associated Press service for the _Sun_, which he could have secured in -no other way. But Mr. Munsey was not blind to the advantages of -combining the circulation of the _Press_ and the _Sun_, and has profited -by it. - -It is quite possible that there will be further consolidations in New -York and Boston before long; at least conditions are ripe for them. -Chicago has now only four morning newspapers, including the -_Staats-Zeitung_, but one of these has an uncertain future before it. -The _Herald_ of that city is the net result of amalgamations which -successively wiped out the _Record_, the _Times_, the _Chronicle_, and -the _Inter-Ocean_. It is only a few years ago that the _Boston Traveler_ -and the _Evening Herald_ were consolidated, and Philadelphia, Baltimore, -New Orleans, Portland (Oregon), and Philadelphia are other cities in -which there has been a reduction in the number of dailies. - -In the main it is correct to say that the decreasing number of -newspapers in our larger American cities is due to the enormously -increased costs of maintaining great dailies. This has been found to -limit the number which a given advertising territory will support. It is -a fact, too, that there are few other fields of enterprise in which so -many unprofitable enterprises are maintained. There is one penny daily -in New York which has not paid a cent to its owners in twenty years; -during that time its income has met its expenses only once. Another of -our New York dailies loses between $400,000 and $500,000 a year, if -well-founded report is correct, but the deficit is cheerfully met each -year. It may be safely stated that scarcely half of our New York morning -and evening newspapers return an adequate profit. - -The most striking fact about the recent consolidations is that this -leaves Cleveland with only one morning newspaper, the _Plain Dealer_. It -is the sixth city in size in the United States, yet it has not appeared -to be large enough to support both the _Plain Dealer_ and the _Leader_, -not even with the aid of what is called “foreign,” or national, -advertising, that is, advertising which originates outside of Cleveland. -There are now many other cities in which the seeker after morning news -is compelled to take it from one source only, whatever his political -affiliations may be: in Indianapolis, from the _Star_; in Detroit, from -the _Free Press_; in Toledo, from the _Times_; in Columbus, from the -_State Journal_; in Scranton, from the _Republican_; in St. Paul, from -the _Pioneer Press_; and in New Orleans, from the _Times-Picayune_. This -circumstance comes as a good deal of a shock to those who fancy that at -least the chief political parties should have their representative -dailies in each city—for that is the old American tradition. - -Turning to the State of Michigan, we find that the development has gone -even further, for here are some sizable cities with no morning newspaper -and but one in the evening field. In fourteen cities whose population -has more than doubled during the last twenty-five years the number of -daily newspapers printed in the English language has shrunk from 42 to -only 23. In nine of these fourteen cities there is not a single morning -newspaper; they have but one evening newspaper each to give them the -news of the world, unless they are content to receive their news by mail -from distant cities. On Sunday they are better off, for there are seven -Sunday newspapers in these towns. In the five cities having more than -one newspaper, there are six dailies that are thought to be unprofitable -to their owners, and it is believed that, within a short time, the -number of one-newspaper cities will grow to twelve, in which case -Detroit and Grand Rapids will be the only cities with morning dailies. -It is reported by competent witnesses that the one-newspaper towns are -not only well content with this state of affairs, but that they actively -resist any attempt to change the situation, the merchants in some cases -banding together voluntarily to maintain the monopoly by refusing -advertising to those wishing to start competition. - -It is of course true that in the larger cities of the East there are -other causes than the lack of advertising to account for the -disappearance of certain newspapers. Many of them have deserved to -perish because they were inefficiently managed or improperly edited. The -_Boston Transcript_ declares that the reason for the _Journal’s_ demise -was lack “of that singleness and clearness of direction and purpose -which alone establish confidence in and guarantee abiding support of a -newspaper.” If some of the Hearst newspapers may be cited as examples of -successful journals that have neither clearness nor honesty of purpose, -it is not to be questioned that a newspaper with clear-cut, vigorous -personalities behind it is far more likely to survive than one that does -not have them. But it does not help the situation to point out, as does -the _Columbia_ (S. C.) _State_, that “sentiment and passion” have been -responsible for the launching of many of the newspaper wrecks; for often -sentiment and the righteous passion of indignation have been responsible -for the foundation of notable newspapers such as the _New York Tribune_, -whose financial success was, for a time at least, quite notable. It is -the danger that newspaper conditions, because of the enormously -increased costs and this tendency to monopoly, may prevent people who -are actuated by passion and sentiment from founding newspapers, which is -causing many students of the situation much concern. What is to be the -hope for the advocates of new-born and unpopular reforms if they cannot -have a press of their own, as the Abolitionists and the founders of the -Republican party set up theirs in a remarkably short time, usually with -poverty-stricken bank accounts? - -If no good American can read of cities having only one newspaper without -concern,—since democracy depends largely upon the presenting of both -sides of every issue,—it does not add any comfort to know that it would -take millions to found a new paper, on a strictly business basis, in our -largest cities. Only extremely wealthy men could undertake such a -venture,—precisely as the rejuvenated _Chicago Herald_ has been financed -by a group of the city’s wealthiest magnates,—and even then the success -of the undertaking would be questionable if it were not possible to -secure the Associated Press service for the newcomer. - -The “journal of protest,” it may be truthfully said, is to-day being -confined, outside of the Socialistic press, to weeklies of varying -types, of which the _Survey_, the _Public_, and the _St. Louis Mirror_, -are examples; and scores of them fall by the wayside. The large sums -necessary to establish a journal of opinion are being demonstrated by -the _New Republic_. Gone is the day when a _Liberator_ can be founded -with a couple of hundred dollars as capital. The struggle of the _New -York Call_ to keep alive, and that of some of our Jewish newspapers, are -clear proof that conditions to-day make strongly against those who are -fired by passion and sentiment to give a new and radical message to the -world. - -True, there is still opportunity in small towns for editorial courage -and ability; William Allen White has demonstrated that. But in the small -towns the increased costs due to the war are being felt as keenly as in -the larger cities. _Ayer’s Newspaper Directory_ shows a steady shrinkage -during the last three years in the weeklies, semi-weeklies, -tri-weeklies, and semi-monthlies, there being 300 less in 1916 than in -1914. There lies before me a list of 76 dailies and weeklies over which -the funeral rites have been held since January 1, 1917; to some of them -the government has administered the _coup de grace_. There are three -Montreal journals among them, and a number of little German -publications, together with the notorious _Appeal to Reason_ and a -couple of farm journals: 21 states are represented in the list, which is -surely not complete. - -Many dailies have sought to save themselves by increasing their price to -two cents, as in Chicago, Pittsburg, Buffalo, and Philadelphia; and -everywhere there has been a raising of mail-subscription and advertising -rates, in an effort to offset the enormous and persistent rise in the -cost of paper and labor. It is indisputable, however, that, if we are in -for a long war, many of the weaker city dailies and the country dailies -must go to the wall, just as there have been similar failures in every -one of the warring nations of Europe. - -Surveying the newspaper field as a whole, there has not been of late -years a marked development of the tendency to group together a number of -newspapers under one ownership in the manner of Northcliffe. Mr. Hearst, -thanks be to fortune, has not added to his string lately; his group of -_Examiners_, _Journals_, and _Americans_ is popularly believed not to be -making any large sums of money for him, because the weaker members -offset the earnings of the prosperous ones, and there is reputed to be -great managerial waste.[2] When Mr. Munsey buys another daily, he -usually sells an unprosperous one or adds another grave to his private -and sizable newspaper cemetery. The Scripps-McRae Syndicate, comprising -some 22 dailies, has not added to its number since 1911. - -Footnote 2: - - Mr. Hearst acquired the _Boston Advertiser_ in November 1917, shortly - after this article was written.-ED. - -In Michigan the Booth Brothers control six clean, independent papers, -which, for the local reasons given above, exercise a remarkable -influence. The situation in that state shows clearly how comparatively -easy it would be for rich business men, with selfish or partisan -purpose, to dominate public opinion there and poison the public mind -against anything they disliked. It is a situation to cause much -uneasiness when one looks into the more distant future and considers the -distrust of the press because of a far-reaching belief that the large -city newspaper, being a several-million-dollar affair, must necessarily -have managers in close alliance with other men in great business -enterprises,—the chamber of commerce, the merchants’ association -group,—and therefore wholly detached from the aspirations of the plain -people. - -Those who feel thus will be disturbed by another remarkable -consolidation in the field of newspaper-making—the recent absorption of -a large portion of the business of the American Press Association by the -Western Newspaper Union. The latter now has an almost absolute monopoly -in supplying “plate” and “ready to print” matter to the small daily -newspapers and the country weeklies—“patent insides” is a more familiar -term. The Western Newspaper Union to-day furnishes plate matter to -nearly fourteen thousand newspapers—a stupendous number. In 1912 a -United States court in Chicago forbade this very consolidation as one in -restraint of trade; to-day it permits it because the great rise in the -cost of plate matter, from four to seventeen cents a pound, seems to -necessitate the extinction of the old competition and the establishment -of a monopoly. The court was convinced that this field of newspaper -enterprise will no longer support two rival concerns. An immense power -which could be used to influence public opinion is thus placed in the -hands of the officers of a money-making concern, for news matter is -furnished as well as news photogravures. - -Only the other day I heard of a boast that a laudatory article praising -a certain astute Democratic politician had appeared in no less than -7,000 publications of the Union’s clients. Who can estimate the value of -such an advertisement? Who can deny the power enormously to influence -rural public opinion for better or for worse? Who can deny that the very -innocent aspect of such a publication makes it a particularly easy, as -well as effective, way of conducting propaganda for better or for worse? -So far it has been to the advantage of both the associations to carry -the propaganda matter of the great political parties,—they deny any -intentional propaganda of their own,—but one cannot help wondering -whether this will always be the case, and whether there is not danger -that some day this tremendous power may be used in the interest of some -privileged undertaking or some self-seeking politicians. At least, it -would seem as if our law-makers, already so critical of the press, might -be tempted to declare the Union a public-service corporation and, -therefore, bound to transmit all legitimate news offered to it. - -In the strictly news-gathering field there is probably a decrease of -competition at hand. The Allied governments abroad and our courts at -home have struck a hard blow at the Hearst news-gathering concern, the -International News Association, which has been excluded from England and -her colonies, Italy, and France, and has recently been convicted of -news-stealing and falsification on the complaint of the Associated -Press. The case is now pending an appeal in the Supreme Court, when the -decision of the lower court may be reversed. If, as a result of these -proceedings, the association eventually goes out of business, it will be -to the public advantage, that is, if honest, uncolored news is a -desideratum. This will give to the Associated Press—the only press -association which is altogether coöperative and makes no profit by the -sale of its news—a monopoly in the morning field. If this lack of -organized competition—it is daily competing with the special -correspondents of all the great newspapers—has its drawbacks, it is -certainly reassuring that throughout this unprecedented war the -Associated Press has brought over an enormous volume of news with a -minimum of just complaints as to the fidelity of that news—save that it -is, of course, rigidly censored in every country, and particularly in -passing through England. It has met vast problems with astounding -success. - -But it is in considerable degree dependent upon foreign news agencies, -like Reuter’s, the Havas Agency in France, the Wolf Agency in Germany, -and others, including the official Russian agency. Where these are not -frankly official agencies, they are the creatures of their governments -and have been either deliberately used by them to mislead others, and -particularly foreign nations, or to conceal the truth from their own -subjects. As Dean Walter Williams, of the University of Missouri School -of Journalism, has lately pointed out, if there is one thing needed -after this war, it is the abolition of these official and semi-official -agencies with their frequent stirring up of racial and international -hatreds. A free press after the war is as badly needed as freedom of the -seas and freedom from conscienceless kaisers and autocrats. - -At home, when the war is over, there is certain to be as relatively -striking a slant toward social reorganization, reform, and economic -revolution as had taken place in Russia, and is taking place in England -as related by the _London Times_. When that day comes here, the deep -smouldering distrust of our press will make itself felt. Our Fourth -Estate is to have its day of overhauling and of being muckraked. The -perfectly obvious hostility toward newspapers of the present Congress, -as illustrated by its attempt to impose a direct and special tax upon -them; its rigorous censorship in spite of the profession’s protest of -last spring; and the heavy additional postage taxes levied upon some -classes of newspapers and the magazines, goes far to prove this. But -even more convincing is the dissatisfaction with the metropolitan press -in every reform camp and among the plain people. It has grown -tremendously because the masses are, rightly or wrongly, convinced that -the newspapers with heavy capital investments are a “capitalistic” press -and, therefore, opposed to their interests. - -This feeling has grown all the more because so many hundreds of -thousands who were opposed to our going to war and are opposed to it now -still feel that their views—as opposed to those of the prosperous and -intellectual classes—were not voiced in the press last winter. They know -that their position to-day is being misrepresented as disloyal or -pro-German by the bulk of the newspapers. In this situation many are -turning to the Socialistic press as their one refuge. They, and -multitudes who have gradually been losing faith in the reliability of -our journalism, for one reason or another, can still be won back if we -journalists will but slake their intense thirst for reliable, -trustworthy news, for opinions free from class bias and not always set -forth from the point of view of the well-to-do and the privileged. How -to respond to this need is the greatest problem before the American -press. Meanwhile, on the business side we drift toward consolidation on -a resistless economic current, which foams past numberless rocks, and -leads no man knows whither. - - - - - THE WANING POWER OF THE PRESS - - BY FRANCIS E. LEUPP - - - I - -After the last ballot had been cast and counted in the recent mayoralty -contest in New York, the successful candidate paid his respects to the -newspapers which had opposed him. This is equivalent to saying that he -paid them to the whole metropolitan press; for every great daily -newspaper except one had done its best to defeat him, and that one had -given him only a left-handed support.[3] The comments of the -mayor-elect, although not ill-tempered, led up to the conclusion that in -our common-sense generation nobody cares what the newspapers say. - -Footnote 3: - - The conditions here referred to in the election of Mayor Gaynor in - 1909 were almost duplicated in 1917, when Mayor Mitchel was defeated - for reëlection, although all the New York newspapers, except the two - Hearst papers and the Socialist daily, supported him.—ED. - -Unflattering as such a verdict may be, probably a majority of the -community, if polled as a jury, would concur in it. The airy dismissal -of some proposition as “mere newspaper talk” is heard at every social -gathering, till one who was brought up to regard the press as a mighty -factor in modern civilization is tempted to wonder whether it has -actually lost the power it used to wield among us. The answer seems to -me to depend on whether we are considering direct or indirect effects. A -newspaper exerts its most direct influence through its definite -interpretation of current events. Its indirect influence radiates from -the amount and character of the news it prints, the particular features -it accentuates, and its method of presenting these. Hence it is always -possible that its direct influence may be trifling, while its indirect -influence is large; its direct influence harmless, but its indirect -influence pernicious; or _vice versa_. - -A distinction ought to be made here like that which we make between -credulity and nerves. The fact that a dwelling in which a mysterious -murder has been committed may for years thereafter go begging in vain -for a tenant, does not mean that a whole cityful of fairly intelligent -people are victims of the ghost obsession; but it does mean that no -person enjoys being reminded of midnight assassination every time he -crosses his own threshold; for so persistent a companionship with a -discomforting thought is bound to depress the best nervous system ever -planted in a human being. So the constant iteration of any idea in a -daily newspaper will presently capture public attention, whether the -idea be good or bad, sensible or foolish. Though the influence of the -press, through its ability to keep certain subjects always before its -readers, has grown with its growth in resources and patronage, its hold -on popular confidence has unquestionably been loosened during the last -forty or fifty years. To Mayor Gaynor’s inference, as to most -generalizations of that sort, we need not attach serious importance. The -interplay of so many forces in a political campaign makes it -impracticable to separate the influence of the newspapers from the rest, -and either hold it solely accountable for the result, or pass it over as -negligible; for if we tried to formulate any sweeping rules, we should -find it hard to explain the variegated records of success and defeat -among newspaper favorites. But it may be worth while to inquire why an -institution so full of potentialities as a free press does not produce -more effect than it does, and why so many of its leading writers to-day -find reason to deplore the altered attitude of the people toward it. - -Not necessarily in their order of importance, but for convenience of -consideration, I should list the causes for this change about as -follows: the transfer of both properties and policies from personal to -impersonal control; the rise of the cheap magazine; the tendency to -specialization in all forms of public instruction; the fierceness of -competition in the newspaper business; the demand for larger capital, -unsettling the former equipoise between counting-room and editorial -room; the invasion of newspaper offices by the universal mania of hurry; -the development of the news-getting at the expense of the -news-interpreting function; the tendency to remould narratives of fact -so as to confirm office-made policies; the growing disregard of decency -in the choice of news to be specially exploited; and the scant time now -spared by men of the world for reading journals of general intelligence. - -In the old-style newspaper, in spite of the fact that the editorial -articles were usually anonymous, the editor’s name appeared among the -standing notices somewhere in every issue, or was so well known to the -public that we talked about “what Greeley thought” of this or that, or -wondered “whether Bryant was going to support” a certain ticket, or -shook our heads over the latest sensational screed in “Bennett’s paper.” -The identity of such men was clear in the minds of a multitude of -readers who might sometimes have been puzzled to recall the title of the -sheet edited by each. We knew their private histories and their -idiosyncrasies; they were to us no mere abstractions on the one hand, or -wire-worked puppets on the other, but living, moving, sentient human -beings; and our acquaintance with them enabled us, as we believed, to -locate fairly well their springs of thought and action. Indeed, their -very foibles sometimes furnished our best exegetical key to their -writings. - -When a politician whom Bryant had criticised threatened to pull his -nose, and Bryant responded by stalking ostentatiously three times around -the bully at their next meeting in public, the readers of the _Evening -Post_ did not lose faith in the editor because he was only human, but -guessed about how far to discount future utterances of the paper with -regard to his antagonist. When Bennett avowed his intention of -advertising the _Herald_ without the expenditure of a dollar, by -attacking his enemies so savagely as to goad them into a physical -assault, everybody understood the motives behind the warfare on both -sides, and attached to it only the significance that the facts -warranted. Knowing Dana’s affiliations, no one mistook the meaning of -the _Sun’s_ dismissal of General Hancock as “a good man, weighing two -hundred and fifty pounds, but ... not Samuel J. Tilden.” And Greeley’s -retort to Bryant, “You lie, villain! willfully, wickedly, basely lie!” -and his denunciation of Bennett as a “low-mouthed, blatant, witless, -brutal scoundrel,” though not preserved as models of amenity for the -emulation of budding editors, were felt to be balanced by the delicious -frankness of the _Tribune’s_ announcement of “the dissolution of the -political firm of Seward, Weed & Greeley by the withdrawal of the junior -partner.” - -With all its faults, that era of personal journalism had some rugged -virtues. In referring to it, I am reminded of a remark made to me, years -ago, by the oldest editor then living,—so old that he had employed Weed -as a journeyman, and refused to hire Greeley as a tramp printer,—that -“in the golden age of our craft, every editor wore his conscience on his -arm, and carried his dueling weapon in his hand, walked always in the -light where the whole world could see him, and was prepared to defend -his published opinions with his life if need be.” Without going to that -extreme, it is easy to sympathize with the veteran’s view that a man of -force, who writes nothing for which he is not ready to be personally -responsible, commands more respect from the mass of his fellows than one -who shields himself behind a rampart of anonymity, and voices only the -sentiments of a profit-seeking corporation. - -Of course, the transfer of our newspapers from personal to corporate -ownership and control was not a matter of preference, but a practical -necessity. The expense of modernizing the mechanical equipment alone -imposed a burden which few newspaper proprietors were able to carry -unaided. Add to that the cost of an ever-expanding news-service, and the -higher salaries demanded by satisfactory employees in all departments, -and it is hardly wonderful that one private owner after another gave up -his single-handed struggle against hopeless financial odds, and sought -aid from men of larger means. Partnership relations involve so many -risks, and are so hard to shift in an emergency, that resort was had to -the form of a corporation, which afforded the advantage of a limited -liability, and enabled a shareholder to dispose of his interest if he -tired of the game. Since the dependence of a newspaper on the favor of -an often whimsical public placed it among the least attractive forms of -investment, even under these well-guarded conditions, the capitalists -who were willing to take large blocks of stock were usually men with -political or speculative ends to gain, to which they could make a -newspaper minister by way of compensating them for the hazards they -faced. - -These newcomers were not idealists, like the founders and managers of -most of the important journals of an earlier period. They were men of -keen commercial instincts, evidenced by the fact that they had -accumulated wealth. They naturally looked at everything through the -medium of the balance-sheet. Here was a paper with a fine reputation, -but uncertain or disappearing profits; it must be strengthened, -enlarged, and made to pay. Principles? Yes, principles were good things, -but we must not ride even good things to death. The noblest cause in -creation cannot be promoted by a defunct newspaper, and to keep its -champion alive there must be a net cash income. The circulation must be -pushed, and the advertising patronage increased. More circulation can be -secured only by keeping the public stirred up. Employ private detectives -to pursue the runaway husband, and bring him back to his wife; organize -a marine expedition to find the missing ship; send a reporter into the -Soudan to interview the beleaguered general whose own government is -powerless to reach him with an army. Blow the trumpet, and make ringing -announcements every day. If nothing new is to be had, refurbish -something so old that people have forgotten it, and spread it over lots -of space. Who will know the difference? - -What one newspaper did, that others were forced to do or be distanced in -the competition. It all had its effect. A craving for excitement was -first aroused in the public, and then satisfied by the same hand that -had aroused it. Nobody wished to be behind the times, so circulations -were swelled gradually to tenfold their old dimensions. Rivalry was -worked up among the advertisers in their turn, till a half-page in a big -newspaper commanded a price undreamed of a few years before. Thus one -interest was made to foster another, each increase of income involving -also an increase of cost, and each additional outlay bringing fresh -returns. In such a race for business success, with such forces behind -the runners, can we marvel at the subsidence of ideals which in the days -of individual control and slower gait were uppermost? With the -capitalists’ plans to promote, and powerful advertisers to conciliate by -emphasizing this subject or discreetly ignoring that, is not the wonder -rather that the moral quality of our press has not fallen below its -present standard? - -Even in our day we occasionally find an editor who pays his individual -tribute to the old conception of personal responsibility by giving his -surname to his periodical or signing his leading articles himself. In -such newspaper ventures as Mr. Bryan and Mr. La Follette have launched -within a few years, albeit their motives are known to be political and -partisan, more attention is attracted by one of their deliverances than -by a score of impersonal preachments. Mr. Hearst, the high priest of -sensational journalism, though not exploiting his own authority in the -same way, has always taken pains to advertise the individual work of -such lieutenants as Bierce and Brisbane; and he, like Colonel Taylor of -Boston, early opened his editorial pages to contributions from -distinguished authors outside of his staff, with their signatures -attached. A few editors I have known who, in whatever they wrote with -their own hands, dropped the diffusive “we” and adopted the more direct -and intimate “I.” These things go to show that even journalists who have -received most of their training in the modern school appreciate that -trait in our common human nature which prompts us to pay more heed to a -living voice than to a talking-machine. - - - II - -The importance of a responsible personality finds further confirmation -in the evolution of the modern magazine. From being what its title -indicates, a place of storage for articles believed to have some -permanent value, the magazine began to take on a new character about -twenty years ago. While preserving its distinct identity and its -originality, it leaped boldly into the newspaper arena, and sought its -topics in the happenings of the day, regardless of their evanescence. It -raised a corps of men and women who might otherwise have toiled in -obscurity all their lives, and gave them a chance to become authorities -on questions of immediate interest, till they are now recognized as -constituting a limited but highly specialized profession. One group -occupied itself with trusts and trust magnates; another with politicians -whose rise had been so meteoric as to suggest a romance behind it; -another with the inside history of international episodes; another with -new religious movements and their leaders, and so on. - -What was the result? The public following which the newspaper editors -used to command when they did business in the open, but which was -falling away from their anonymous successors, attached itself promptly -to the magazinists. The citizen interested in insurance reform turned -eagerly to all that emanated from the group in charge of that topic; -whoever aspired to take part in the social uplift bought every number of -every periodical in which the contributions of another group appeared; -the hater of monopoly paid a third group the same compliment. What was -more, the readers pinned their faith to their favorite writers, and -quoted Mr. Steffens and Miss Tarbell and Mr. Baker on the specialty each -had taken, with much the same freedom with which they might have quoted -Darwin on plant-life, or Edison on electricity. If any anonymous editor -ventured to question the infallibility of one of these prophets of the -magazine world, the common multitude wasted no thought on the merits of -the issue, but sided at once with the teacher whom they knew at least by -name, against the critic whom they knew not at all. The uncomplimentary -assumption as to the latter always seemed to be that, as only a -subordinate part of a big organism, he was speaking, not from his heart, -but from his orders; and that he must have some sinister design in -trying to discredit an opponent who was not afraid to stand out and face -his fire. - -Apropos, let us not fail to note the constant trend, of recent years, -toward specialization in every department of life and thought. There was -a time when a pronouncement from certain men on nearly any theme would -be accepted by the public, not only with the outward respect commanded -by persons of their social standing, but with a large measure of -positive credence. One who enjoyed a general reputation for scholarship -might set forth his views this week on a question of archæology, next -week on the significance of the latest earthquake, and a week later on -the new canals on the planet Mars, with the certainty that each -outgiving would affect public opinion to a marked degree; whereas -nowadays we demand that the most distinguished members of our learned -faculty stick each to his own hobby; the antiquarian to the excavations, -the seismologist to the tremors of our planet, the astronomer to our -remoter colleagues of the solar system. It is the same with our writers -on political, social, and economic problems. Whereas the old-time editor -was expected to tell his constituency what to think on any subject -called up by the news overnight, it is now taken for granted that even -news must be classified and distributed between specialists for comment; -and the very sense that only one writer is trusted to handle any -particular class of topics inspires a desire in the public to know who -that writer is before paying much attention to his opinions. - -The intense competition between newspapers covering the same field -sometimes leads to consequences which do not strengthen the esteem of -the people at large for the press at large. Witness the controversy -which arose over the conflicting claims of Commander Peary and Dr. Cook -as the original discoverer of the North Pole. One newspaper syndicate -having, at large expense, procured a narrative directly from the pen of -Cook, and another accomplished a like feat with Peary, to which could -“we, the people,” look for an unbiased opinion on the matters in -dispute? An admission by either that its star contributor could trifle -with the truth was equivalent to throwing its own exploit into -bankruptcy. So each was bound to stand by the claimant with whom it had -first identified itself, and fight the battle out like an attorney under -retainer; and what started as a serious contest of priority in a -scientific discovery threatened to end as a wrangle over a newspaper -“beat.” - -Then, too, we must reckon with the progressive acceleration of the pace -of our twentieth-century life generally. Where we walked in the old -times, we run in these; where we ambled then, we gallop now. It is the -age of electric power, high explosives, articulated steel frames, in the -larger world; of the long-distance telephone, the taxicab, and the -card-index, in the narrower. The problem of existence is reduced to -terms of time-measurement, with the detached lever substituted for the -pendulum because it produces a faster tick. - -What is the effect of all this on the modernized newspaper? It must be -first on the ground at every activity, foreseen or unforeseeable, as a -matter of course. Its reporter must get off his “story” in advance of -all his rivals. Never mind strict accuracy of detail—effect is the main -thing; he is writing, not for expert accountants, or professional -statisticians, or analytic philosophers, but for the public; and what -the public wants is, not dry particulars, but color, vitality, heat. -Pictures being a quicker medium of communication with the reader’s mind -than printed text, nine-tenths of our daily press is illustrated, and -the illustrations of distant events are usually turned out by artists in -the home office from verbal descriptions. What signifies it if only -three cars went off the broken bridge, and the imaginative draftsman put -five into his picture because he could not wait for the dispatch of -correction which almost always follows the lurid “scoop”? Who is harmed -if the telegram about the suicide reads “shots” instead of “stabs,” and -the artist depicts the self-destroyer clutching a smoking pistol instead -of a dripping dirk? - -It is the province of the champion of the up-to-date cult to minimize -the importance of detail. The purpose of the picture, he argues, is to -stamp a broad impression instantaneously on the mind, and thus spare it -the more tedious process of reading. And if one detail too many is put -in, or one omitted which ought to have been there, whoever is -sufficiently interested to read the text will discover the fault, and -whoever is not will give it no further thought anyway. As to the -descriptive matter, suppose it does contain errors? The busy man of our -day does not read his newspaper with the same solemn intent with which -he reads history. What he asks of it is a lightning-like glimpse of the -world which will show him how far it has moved in the last twelve hours; -and he will not pause to complain of a few deviations from the straight -line of truth, especially if it would have taken more than the twelve -hours to rectify them. - -This would perhaps be good logic if the pure-food law were broadened in -scope so as to apply to mental pabulum, and every concocter of newspaper -stories and illustrations were compelled to label his adulterated -products. Then the consumer who does not object to a diet of mixed fact -and falsehood, accuracy and carelessness, so long as the compound is so -seasoned as to tickle his palate, could have his desire, while his -neighbor who wishes an honest article or nothing at all could have his -also. As it is, with no distinguishing marks, we are liable to buy one -thing and get another. - -The new order of “speed before everything” has brought about its changes -at both ends of a newspaper staff. The editorial writer who used to take -a little time to look into the ramifications of a topic before reducing -his opinions to writing, feels humiliated if an event occurs on which he -cannot turn off a few comments at sight; but he has still a refuge in -such modifying clauses as “in the light of the meagre details now before -us,” or “as it appears at this writing,” or “in spite of the absence of -full particulars, which may later change the whole aspect of affairs.” - -No such covert offers itself to the news-getter in the open field. What -he says must be definite, outright, unqualified, or the blue pencil -slashes remorselessly through his “it is suspected,” or “according to a -rumor which cannot be traced to its original source.” What business has -he to “suspect”? He is hired to know. For what, pray, is the newspaper -paying him, if not for tracing rumors to their original source; and -further still, if so instructed? He is there to be, not a thinker, but a -worker; a human machine like a steam potato-digger, which, supplied with -the necessary energizing force from behind, drives its prods under -nature’s mantle, and grubs out the succulent treasures she is trying to -conceal. - - - III - -Nowhere is the change more patent than in the department of special -correspondence. At an important point like Washington, for instance, the -old corps of writers were men of mature years, most of whom had passed -an apprenticeship in the editorial chair, and still held a -semi-editorial relation to the newspapers they represented. They had -studied political history and economics, social philosophy, and kindred -subjects, as a preparation for their life-work, and were full of a -wholesome sense of responsibility to the public as well as to their -employers. Poore, Nelson, Boynton, and others of their class, were known -by name, and regarded as authorities, in the communities to which they -daily ministered. They were thoughtful workers as well as enterprising. -They went for their news to the fountain-head, instead of dipping it out -of any chance pool by the wayside. When they sent in to their home -offices either fact or prophecy, they accompanied it with an -interpretation which both editors and public knew to be no mere feat in -lightning guesswork; and the fame which any of them prized more than a -long calendar of “beats” and “exclusives” was that which would -occasionally move a worsted competitor to confess, “I missed that news; -but if —— sent it out, it is true.” - -When, in the later eighties, the new order came, it came with a rush. -The first inkling of it was a notice received, in the middle of one busy -night, by a correspondent who had been faithfully serving a prominent -Western newspaper for a dozen years, to turn over his bureau to a young -man who up to that time had been doing local reporting on its home -staff. Transfers of other bureaus followed fast. A few were left, and -still remain, undisturbed in personnel or character of work. Here and -there, too, an old-fashioned correspondent was retained, but retired to -an emeritus post, with the privilege of writing a signed letter when the -spirit moved him; while a nimbler-footed successor assumed titular -command and sent the daily dispatches. The bald fact was that the -newspaper managers had bowed to the hustling humor of the age. They no -longer cared to serve journalistic viands, which required deliberate -mastication, to patrons who clamored for a quick lunch. So they passed -on to their representatives at a distance the same injunction they were -incessantly pressing upon their reporters at home: “Get the news, and -send it while it is hot. Don’t wait to tell us what it means or what it -points to; we can do our own ratiocinating.” - -Is the public a loser by this obscuration of the correspondent’s former -function? I believe so. His appeal is no longer put to the reader -directly: he becomes the mere tool of the newspaper, which in its turn -furnishes to the reader such parts of his and other communications as it -chooses, and in such forms as best suit its ulterior purposes. Doubtless -this conduces to a more perfect administrative coördination in the staff -at large, but it greatly weakens the correspondent’s sense of personal -responsibility. Poore had his constituency, Boynton had his, Nelson had -his. None of these men would, under any conceivable stress of -competition, have wittingly misled the group of readers he had attached -to himself; nor would one of them have tolerated any tampering in the -home office with essential matters in a contribution to which he had -signed his name. Indeed, so well was this understood that I never heard -of anybody’s trying to tamper with them. It occasionally happened that -the correspondent set forth a view somewhat at variance with that -expressed on the editorial page of the same paper; but each party to -this disagreement respected the other, and the public was assumed to be -capable of making its own choice between opposing opinions clearly -stated. A special virtue of the plan of independent correspondence lay -in the opportunity it often afforded the habitual reader of a single -newspaper to get at least a glance at more than one side of a public -question. - -Among the conspicuous fruits of the new régime is the direction -sometimes sent to a correspondent to “write down” this man or “write up” -that project. He knows that it is a case of obey orders or resign, and -it brings to the surface all the Hessian he may have in his blood. If he -is enough of a casuist, he will try to reconcile good conscience with -worldly wisdom by picturing himself as a soldier commanded to do -something of which he does not approve. Disobedience at the post of duty -is treachery; resignation in the face of an unwelcome billet is -desertion. So he does what he is bidden, though it may be at the cost of -his self-respect and the esteem of others whose kind opinion he values. -I have had a young correspondent come to me for information about -something under advisement at the White House, and apologize for not -going there himself by showing me a note from his editor telling him to -“give the President hell.” As he had always been treated with courtesy -at the White House, he had not the hardihood to go there while engaged -in his campaign of abuse. - -Another, who had been intimate with a member of the administration then -in power, was suddenly summoned one day to a conference with the -publisher of his paper. He went in high spirits, believing that the -invitation must mean at least a promotion in rank or an increase of -salary. He returned crestfallen. Several days afterward he revealed to -me in confidence that the paper had been unsuccessfully seeking some -advertising controlled by his friend, and that the publisher had offered -him one thousand dollars for a series of articles—anonymous, if he -preferred—exposing the private weaknesses of the eminent man, and giving -full names, dates, and other particulars as to a certain unsavory -association in which he was reported to find pleasure! Still another -brought me a dispatch he had prepared, requesting me to look it over and -see whether it contained anything strictly libelous. It proved to be a -forecast of the course of the Secretary of the Treasury in a financial -crisis then impending. “Technically speaking,” I said, after reading it, -“there is plenty of libelous material in this, for it represents the -Secretary as about to do something which, to my personal knowledge, he -has never contemplated, and which would stamp him as unfit for his -position if he should attempt it. But as a matter of fact he will ignore -your story, as he is putting into type to-day a circular which is to be -made public to-morrow, telling what his plan really is, and that will -authoritatively discredit you.” - -“Thank you,” he answered, rather stiffly. “I have my orders to pitch -into the Secretary whenever I get a chance. I shall send this to-day, -and to-morrow I can send another saying that my exclusive disclosures -forced him to change his programme at the last moment.” - -These are sporadic cases, I admit, yet they indicate a mischievous -tendency; just as each railway accident is itself sporadic, but too -frequent fatalities from a like cause on the same line point to -something wrong in the management of the road. It is not necessary to -call names on the one hand, or indulge in wholesale denunciation on the -other, in order to indicate the extremes to which the current pace in -journalism must inevitably lead if kept up. The broadest-minded and most -honorable men in our calling realize the disagreeable truth. A few of -the great newspapers, too, have the courage to cling still to the old -ideals, both in their editorial attitude and in their instructions to -their news-gatherers. Possibly their profits are smaller for their -squeamishness; but that the better quality of their patronage makes up -in a measure for its lesser quantity, is evident to any one familiar -with the advertising business. Moreover, in the character of its -employees and in the zeal and intelligence of their service, a newspaper -conducted on the higher plane possesses an asset which cannot be -appraised in dollars and cents. Of one such paper a famous man once said -to me, “I disagree with half its political views; I am regarded as a -personal enemy by its editor; but I read it religiously every day, and -it is the only daily that enters the front door of my home. It is a -paper written by gentlemen for gentlemen; and, though it exasperates me -often, it never offends my nostrils with the odors of the slums.” - -This last remark leads to another consideration touching the relaxed -hold of the press on public confidence: I refer to the topics treated in -the news columns, and the manner of their presentation. Its importance -is attested by the sub-titles or mottoes adopted by several prominent -newspapers, emphasizing their appeal to the family as a special -constituency. In spite of the intense individualism, the reciprocal -independence of the sexes, and the freedom from the trammels of feudal -tradition of which we Americans boast, the social unit in this country -is the family. Toward it a thousand lines of interest converge, from it -a thousand lines of influence flow. Public opinion is unconsciously -moulded by it, for the atmosphere of the home follows the father into -his office, the son into his college, the daughter into her intimate -companionships. The newspaper, therefore, which keeps the family in -touch with the outside world, though it may have to be managed with more -discretion than one whose circulation is chiefly in the streets, finds -its compensation in its increased radius of influence of the subtler -sort. For such a field, nothing is less fit than the noisome domestic -scandals and the gory horrors which fill so much of the space in -newspapers of the lowest rank, and which in these later years have made -occasional inroads into some of a higher grade. Unfortunately, these -occasional inroads do more to damage the general standing of the press -than the habitual revel in vulgarity. For a newspaper which frankly -avows itself unhampered by niceties of taste can be branded and set -aside as belonging in the impossible category; whereas, when one with a -clean exterior and a reputation for respectability proves unworthy, its -faithlessness arouses in the popular mind a distrust of all its class. - -And yet, whatever we may say of the modern press on its less commendable -side, we are bound to admit that newspapers, like governments, fairly -reflect the people they serve. Charles Dudley Warner once went so far as -to say that no matter how objectionable the character of a paper may be, -it is always a trifle better than the patrons on whom it relies for its -support. I suspect that Mr. Warner’s comparison rested on the greater -frankness of the bad paper, which, by very virtue of its mode of appeal, -is bound to make a brave parade of its worst qualities; whereas the -reader who is loudest in proclaiming in public his repugnance for -horrors, and his detestation of scandals, may in private be buying daily -the sheet which peddles both most shamelessly. - -This sort of conventional hypocrisy among the common run of people is -easier to forgive than the same thing among the cultivated few whom we -accept as mentors. I stumbled upon an illuminating incident about five -years ago which I cannot forbear recalling here. A young man just -graduated from college, where he had attracted some attention by the -cleverness of his pen, was invited to a position on the staff of the -_New York Journal_. Visiting a leading member of the college faculty to -say farewell, he mentioned this compliment with not a little pride. In -an instant the professor was up in arms, with an earnest protest against -his handicapping his whole career by having anything to do with so -monstrous an exponent of yellow journalism. The lad was deeply moved by -the good man’s outburst, and went home sorrowful. After a night’s sleep -on it, he resolved to profit by the admonition, and accordingly called -upon the editor, and asked permission to withdraw his tentative -acceptance. In the explanation which followed he inadvertently let slip -the name of his adviser. He saw a cynical smile cross the face of Mr. -Hearst, who summoned a stenographer, and in his presence dictated a -letter to the professor, requesting a five-hundred-word signed article -for the next Sunday’s issue and inclosing a check for two hundred and -fifty dollars. On Sunday the ingenuous youth beheld the article in a -conspicuous place on the _Journal’s_ editorial page, with the -professor’s full name appended in large capitals. - - -We have already noted some of the effects produced on the press by the -hurry-skurry of our modern life. Quite as significant are sundry -phenomena recorded by Dr. Walter Dill Scott as the result of an inquiry -into the reading habits of two thousand representative business and -professional men in a typical American city. Among other things, he -discovered that most of them spent not to exceed fifteen minutes a day -on their newspapers. As some spent less, and some divided the time -between two or three papers, the average period devoted to any one paper -could safely be placed at from five to ten minutes. The admitted -practice of most of the group was to look at the headlines, the table of -contents, and the weather reports, and then apparently at some specialty -in which they were individually interested. The editorial articles seem -to have offered them few attractions, but news items of one sort or -another engaged seventy-five per cent of their attention. - -In an age as skeptical as ours, there is nothing astonishing in the low -valuation given, by men of a class competent to do their own thinking, -to anonymous opinion; but it will strike many as strange that this class -takes no deeper interest in the news of the day. The trained -psychologist may find it worth while to study out here the relation of -cause and effect. Does the ordinary man of affairs show so scant regard -for his newspaper because he no longer believes half it tells him, or -only because his mind is so absorbed in matters closer at hand, and -directly affecting his livelihood? Have the newspapers perverted the -public taste with sensational surprises till it can no longer appreciate -normal information normally conveyed? - -Professor Münsterberg would doubtless have told us that the foregoing -statistics simply justify his charge against Americans as a people; that -we have gone leaping and gasping through life till we have lost the -faculty of mental concentration, and hence that few of us can read any -more. Whatever the explanation, the central fact has been duly -recognized by all the yellow journals, and by some also which have not -yet passed beyond the cream-colored stage. The “scare heads” and -exaggerated type which, as a lure for purchasers, filled all their needs -a few years ago, are no longer regarded as sufficient, but have given -way to startling bill-board effects, with huge headlines, in -block-letter and vermilion ink, spread across an entire front page. - -The worst phase of this whole business, however, is one which does not -appear on the surface, but which certainly offers food for serious -reflection. The point of view from which all my criticisms have been -made is that of the citizen of fair intelligence and education. It is he -who has been weaned from his faith in the organ of opinion which -satisfied his father, till he habitually sneers at “mere newspaper -talk”; it is he who has descended from reading to simply skimming the -news, and who consciously suffers from the errors which adulterate, and -the vulgarity which taints, that product. But there is another element -in the community which has not his well-sharpened instinct for -discrimination; which can afford to buy only the cheapest, and is drawn -toward the lowest, daily prints; which, during the noon hour and at -night, finds time to devour all the tenement tragedies, all the palace -scandals, and all the incendiary appeals designed to make the poor man -think that thrift is robbery. Over that element we find the vicious -newspaper still exercising an enormous sway; and, admitting that so -large a proportion of the outwardly reputable press has lost its hold -upon the better class of readers, what must we look for as the resultant -of two such unbalanced forces? - -Not a line of these few pages has been written in a carping, much less -in a pessimistic spirit. I love the profession in whose practice I -passed the largest and happiest part of my life; but the very pride I -feel in its worthy achievements makes me, perhaps, the more sensitive to -its shortcomings as these reveal themselves to an unprejudiced scrutiny. -The limits of this article as to both space and scope forbid my -following its subject into some inviting by-paths: as, for instance, the -distinction to be observed between initiative and support in comparing -the influence of the modern newspaper with that of its ancestor of a -half-century ago. I am sorry, also, to put forth so many strictures -without furnishing a constructive sequel. It would be interesting, for -example, to weigh such possibilities as an endowed newspaper which -should do for the press, as a protest against its offenses of -deliberation and its faults of haste and carelessness, what an endowed -theatre might do for the rescue of the stage from a condition of chronic -inanity. But it must remain for a more profound philosopher, whose -function is to specialize in opinion rather than to generalize in -comment, to show what remedies are practicable for the disorders which -beset the body of our modern journalism. - - - - - NEWSPAPER MORALS - - BY H. L. MENCKEN - - - I - -Aspiring, toward the end of my nonage, to the black robes of a dramatic -critic, I took counsel with an ancient whose service went back to the -days of _Our American Cousin_, asking him what qualities were chiefly -demanded by the craft. - -“The main idea,” he told me frankly, “is to be interesting, to write a -good story. All else is dross. Of course, I am not against accuracy, -fairness, information, learning. If you want to read Lessing and -Freytag, Hazlitt and Brunetière, go read them: they will do you no harm. -It is also useful to know something about Shakespeare. But unless you -can make people _read_ your criticisms, you may as well shut up your -shop. And the only way to make them read you is to give them something -exciting.” - -“You suggest, then,” I ventured, “a certain—ferocity?” - -“I do,” replied my venerable friend. “Read George Henry Lewes, and see -how _he_ did it—sometimes with a bladder on a string, usually with a -meat-axe. Knock somebody on the head every day—if not an actor, then the -author, and if not the author, then the manager. And if the play and the -performance are perfect, then excoriate someone who doesn’t think so—a -fellow critic, a rival manager, the unappreciative public. But make it -hearty; make it hot! The public would rather be the butt itself than -have no butt in the ring. That is Rule Number 1 of American -psychology—and of English, too, but more especially of American. You -must give a good show to get a crowd, and a good show means one with -slaughter in it.” - -Destiny soon robbed me of my critical shroud, and I fell into a long -succession of less æsthetic newspaper berths, from that of police -reporter to that of managing editor, but always the advice of my ancient -counselor kept turning over and over in my memory, and as chance offered -I began to act upon it, and whenever I acted upon it I found that it -worked. What is more, I found that other newspaper men acted upon it -too, some of them quite consciously and frankly, and others through a -veil of self-deception, more or less diaphanous. The primary aim of all -of them, no less when they played the secular Iokanaan than when they -played the mere newsmonger, was to please the crowd, to give a good -show; and the way they set about giving that good show was by first -selecting a deserving victim, and then putting him magnificently to the -torture. - -This was their method when they were performing for their own profit -only, when their one motive was to make the public read their paper; but -it was still their method when they were battling bravely and -unselfishly for the public good, and so discharging the highest duty of -their profession. They lightened the dull days of midsummer by pursuing -recreant aldermen with bloodhounds and artillery, by muckraking -unsanitary milk-dealers, or by denouncing Sunday liquor-selling in -suburban parks—and they fought constructive campaigns for good -government in exactly the same gothic, melodramatic way. Always their -first aim was to find a concrete target, to visualize their cause in -some definite and defiant opponent. And always their second aim was to -shell that opponent until he dropped his arms and took to ignominious -flight. It was not enough to maintain and to prove: it was necessary -also to pursue and overcome, to lay a specific somebody low, to give the -good show aforesaid. - -Does this confession of newspaper practice involve a libel upon the -American people? Perhaps it does—on the theory, let us say, that the -greater the truth, the greater the libel. But I doubt if any reflective -newspaper man, however lofty his professional ideals, will ever deny any -essential part of that truth. He knows very well that a definite limit -is set, not only upon the people’s capacity for grasping intellectual -concepts, but also upon their capacity for grasping moral concepts. He -knows that it is necessary, if he would catch and inflame them, to state -his ethical syllogism in the homely terms of their habitual ethical -thinking. And he knows that this is best done by dramatizing and -vulgarizing it, by filling it with dynamic and emotional significance, -by translating all argument for a principle into rage against a man. - -In brief, he knows that it is hard for the plain people to _think_ about -a thing, but easy for them to _feel_. Error, to hold their attention, -must be visualized as a villain, and the villain must proceed swiftly to -his inevitable retribution. They can understand that process; it is -simple, usual, satisfying; it squares with their primitive conception of -justice as a form of revenge. The hero fires them too, but less -certainly, less violently than the villain. His defect is that he offers -thrills at second-hand. It is the merit of the villain, pursued publicly -by a _posse comitatus_, that he makes the public breast the primary seat -of heroism, that he makes every citizen a personal participant in a -glorious act of justice. Wherefore it is ever the aim of the sagacious -journalist to foster that sense of personal participation. The wars that -he wages are always described as the people’s wars, and he himself -affects to be no more than their strategist and _claque_. When the -victory has once been gained, true enough, he may take all the credit -without a blush; but while the fight is going on he always pretends that -every honest yeoman is enlisted, and he is even eager to make it appear -that the yeomanry began it on their own motion, and out of the excess of -their natural virtue. - -I assume here, as an axiom too obvious to be argued, that the chief -appeal of a newspaper, in all such holy causes, is not at all to the -educated and reflective minority of citizens, but frankly to the -ignorant and unreflective majority. The truth is that it would usually -get a newspaper nowhere to address its exhortations to the former; for, -in the first place, they are too few in number to make their support of -much value in general engagements, and, in the second place, it is -almost always impossible to convert them into disciplined and useful -soldiers. They are too cantankerous for that, too ready with -embarrassing strategy of their own. One of the principal marks of an -educated man, indeed, is the fact that he does not take his opinions -from newspapers—not, at any rate, from the militant, crusading -newspapers. On the contrary, his attitude toward them is almost always -one of frank cynicism, with indifference as its mildest form and -contempt as its commonest. He knows that they are constantly falling -into false reasoning about the things within his personal -knowledge,—that is, within the narrow circle of his special -education,—and so he assumes that they make the same, or even worse, -errors about other things, whether intellectual or moral. This -assumption, it may be said at once, is quite justified by the facts. - -I know of no subject, in truth, save perhaps baseball, on which the -average American newspaper, even in the larger cities, discourses with -unfailing sense and understanding. Whenever the public journals presume -to illuminate such a matter as municipal taxation, for example, or the -extension of local transportation facilities, or the punishment of -public or private criminals, or the control of public-service -corporations, or the revision of city charters, the chief effect of -their effort is to introduce into it a host of extraneous issues, most -of them wholly emotional, and so they contrive to make it unintelligible -to all earnest seekers after the truth. - -But it does not follow thereby that they also make it unintelligible to -their special client, the man in the street. Far from it. What they -actually accomplish is the exact opposite. That is to say, it is -precisely by this process of transmutation and emotionalization that -they bring a given problem down to the level of that man’s -comprehension, and, what is more important, within the range of his -active sympathies. He is not interested in anything that does not stir -him, and he is not stirred by anything that fails to impinge upon his -small stock of customary appetites and attitudes. His daily acts are -ordered, not by any complex process of reasoning, but by a continuous -process of very elemental feeling. He is not at all responsive to purely -intellectual argument, even when its theme is his own ultimate benefit, -for such argument quickly gets beyond his immediate interest and -experience. But he is very responsive to emotional suggestion, -particularly when it is crudely and violently made; and it is to this -weakness that the newspapers must ever address their endeavors. In -brief, they must try to arouse his horror, or indignation, or pity, or -simply his lust for slaughter. Once they have done that, they have him -safely by the nose. He will follow blindly until his emotion wears out. -He will be ready to believe anything, however absurd, so long as he is -in his state of psychic tumescence. - -In the reform campaigns which periodically rock our large cities,—and -our small ones, too,—the newspapers habitually make use of this fact. -Such campaigns are not intellectual wars upon erroneous principles, but -emotional wars upon errant men: they always revolve around the pursuit -of some definite, concrete, fugitive malefactor, or group of -malefactors. That is to say, they belong to popular sport rather than to -the science of government; the impulse behind them is always far more -orgiastic than reflective. For good government in the abstract, the -people of the United States seem to have no liking, or, at all events, -no passion. It is impossible to get them stirred up over it, or even to -make them give serious thought to it. They seem to assume that it is a -mere phantasm of theorists, a political will-o’-the-wisp, a utopian -dream—wholly uninteresting, and probably full of dangers and tricks. The -very discussion of it bores them unspeakably, and those papers which -habitually discuss it logically and unemotionally—for example, the _New -York Evening Post_—are diligently avoided by the mob. What the mob -thirsts for is not good government in itself, but the merry chase of a -definite exponent of bad government. The newspaper that discovers such -an exponent—or, more accurately, the newspaper that discovers dramatic -and overwhelming evidence against him—has all the material necessary for -a reform wave of the highest emotional intensity. All that it need do is -to goad the victim into a fight. Once he has formally joined the issue, -the people will do the rest. They are always ready for a man-hunt, and -their favorite quarry is the man of politics. If no such prey is at -hand, they will turn to wealthy debauchees, to fallen Sunday-school -superintendents, to money barons, to white-slave traders, to un-sedulous -chiefs of police. But their first choice is the boss. - -In assaulting bosses, however, a newspaper must look carefully to its -ammunition, and to the order and interrelation of its salvos. There is -such a thing, at the start, as overshooting the mark, and the danger -thereof is very serious. The people must be aroused by degrees, gently -at first, and then with more and more ferocity. They are not capable of -reaching the maximum of indignation at one leap: even on the side of -pure emotion they have their rigid limitations. And this, of course, is -because even emotion must have a quasi-intellectual basis, because even -indignation must arise out of facts. One fact at a time! If a newspaper -printed the whole story of a political boss’s misdeeds in a single -article, that article would have scarcely any effect whatever, for it -would be far too long for the average reader to read and absorb. He -would never get to the end of it, and the part he actually traversed -would remain muddled and distasteful in his memory. Far from arousing an -emotion in him, it would arouse only ennui, which is the very antithesis -of emotion. He cannot read more than three columns of any one subject -without tiring: 6,000 words, I should say, is the extreme limit of his -appetite. And the nearer he is pushed to that limit, the greater the -strain upon his psychic digestion. He can absorb a single capital fact, -leaping from a headline, at one colossal gulp; but he could not down a -dissertation in twenty. And the first desideratum in a headline is that -it deal with a single and capital fact. It must be, “McGinnis Steals -$1,257,867.25,” not, “McGinnis Lacks Ethical Sense.” - -Moreover, a newspaper article which presumed to tell the whole of a -thrilling story in one gargantuan installment would lack the dynamic -element, the quality of mystery and suspense. Even if it should achieve -the miracle of arousing the reader to a high pitch of excitement, it -would let him drop again next day. If he is to be kept in his frenzy -long enough for it to be dangerous to the common foe, he must be led -into it gradually. The newspaper in charge of the business must harrow -him, tease him, promise him, hold him. It is thus that his indignation -is transformed from a state of being into a state of gradual and -cumulative becoming; it is thus that reform takes on the character of a -hotly contested game, with the issue agreeably in doubt. And it is -always as a game, of course, that the man in the street views moral -endeavor. Whether its proposed victim be a political boss, a police -captain, a gambler, a fugitive murderer, or a disgraced clergyman, his -interest in it is almost purely a sporting interest. And the intensity -of that interest, of course, depends upon the fierceness of the clash. -The game is fascinating in proportion as the morally pursued puts up a -stubborn defense, and in proportion as the newspaper directing the -pursuit is resourceful and merciless, and in proportion as the eminence -of the quarry is great and his resultant downfall spectacular. A war -against a ward boss seldom attracts much attention, even in the smaller -cities, for he is insignificant to begin with and an inept and cowardly -fellow to end with; but the famous war upon William M. Tweed shook the -whole nation, for he was a man of tremendous power, he was a brave and -enterprising antagonist, and his fall carried a multitude of other men -with him. Here, indeed, was sport royal, and the plain people took to it -with avidity. - -But once such a buccaneer is overhauled and manacled, the show is over, -and the people take no further interest in reform. In place of the -fallen boss, a so-called reformer has been set up. He goes into office -with public opinion apparently solidly behind him: there is every -promise that the improvement achieved will be lasting. But experience -shows that it seldom is. Reform does not last. The reformer quickly -loses his public. His usual fate, indeed, is to become the pet butt and -aversion of his public. The very mob that put him into office chases him -out of office. And after all, there is nothing very astonishing about -this change of front, which is really far less a change of front than it -seems. The mob has been fed, for weeks preceding the reformer’s -elevation, upon the blood of big and little bosses; it has acquired a -taste for their chase, and for the chase in general. Now, of a sudden, -it is deprived of that stimulating sport. The old bosses are in retreat; -there are yet no new bosses to belabor and pursue; the newspapers which -elected the reformer are busily apologizing for his amateurish errors—a -dull and dispiriting business. No wonder it now becomes possible for the -old bosses, acting through their inevitable friends on the respectable -side,—the “solid” business men, the takers of favors, the underwriters -of political enterprise, and the newspapers influenced by these pious -fellows,—to start the rabble against the reformer. The trick is quite as -easy as that but lately done. The rabble wants a good show, a game, a -victim: it doesn’t care who that victim may be. How easy to convince it -that the reformer is a scoundrel himself, that he is as bad as any of -the old bosses, that he ought to go to the block for high crimes and -misdemeanors! It never had any actual love for him, or even any faith in -him; his election was a mere incident of the chase of his predecessor. -No wonder that it falls upon him eagerly, butchering him to make a new -holiday! - -This is what has happened over and over again in every large American -city—Chicago, New York, St. Louis, Cincinnati, Pittsburg, New Orleans, -Baltimore, San Francisco, St. Paul, Kansas City. Every one of these -places has had its melodramatic reform campaigns and its inevitable -reactions. The people have leaped to the overthrow of bosses, and then -wearied of the ensuing tedium. A perfectly typical slipping back, to be -matched in a dozen other cities, is going on in Philadelphia to-day -[1914]. Mayor Rudolph Blankenberg, a veteran war-horse of reform, came -into office through the downfall of the old bosses, a catastrophe for -which he had labored and agitated for more than thirty years. But now -the old bosses are getting their revenge by telling the people that he -is a violent and villainous boss himself. Certain newspapers are helping -them; they have concealed but powerful support among financiers and -business men; volunteers have even come forward from other cities—for -example, the Mayor of Baltimore. Slowly but surely this insidious -campaign is making itself felt; the common people show signs of yearning -for another _auto-da-fé_. Mayor Blankenberg, unless I am the worst -prophet unhung, will meet with an overwhelming defeat in 1915.[4] And it -will be a very difficult thing to put even a half-decent man in his -place: the victory of the bosses will be so nearly complete that they -will be under no necessity of offering compromises. Employing a favorite -device of political humor, they may select a harmless blank cartridge, a -respectable numskull, what is commonly called a perfumer. But the -chances are that they will select a frank ringster, and that the people -will elect him with cheers. - -Footnote 4: - - This was written in 1914. The overthrow of Blankenberg took place as - forecast, and Philadelphia has since enjoyed boss rule again, with - plentiful scandals.—H. L. M. - - - II - -Such is the ebb and flow of emotion in the popular heart—or perhaps, if -we would be more accurate, the popular liver. It does not constitute an -intelligible system of morality, for morality, at bottom, is not at all -an instinctive matter, but a purely intellectual matter: its essence is -the control of impulse by an ideational process, the subordination of -the immediate desire to the distant aim. But such as it is, it is the -only system of morality that the emotional majority is capable of -comprehending and practicing; and so the newspapers, which deal with -majorities quite as frankly as politicians deal with them, have to admit -it into their own system. That is to say, they cannot accomplish -anything by talking down to the public from a moral plane higher than -its own: they must take careful account of its habitual ways of -thinking, its moral thirsts and prejudices, its well-defined -limitations. They must remember clearly, as judges and lawyers have to -remember it, that the morality subscribed to by that public is far from -the stern and arctic morality of professors of the science. On the -contrary, it is a mellower and more human thing; it has room for the -antithetical emotions of sympathy and scorn; it makes no effort to -separate the criminal from his crime. - -The higher moralities, running up to that of Puritans and archbishops, -allow no weight to custom, to general reputation, to temptation; they -hold it to be no defense of a ballot-box stuffer, for example, that he -had scores of accomplices and that he is kind to his little children. -But the popular morality regards such a defense as sound and apposite; -it is perfectly willing to convert a trial on a specific charge into a -trial on a general charge. And in giving judgment it is always ready to -let feeling triumph over every idea of abstract justice; and very often -that feeling has its origin and support, not in matters actually in -evidence, but in impressions wholly extraneous and irrelevant. - -Hence the need of a careful and wary approach in all newspaper crusades, -particularly on the political side. On the one hand, as I have said, the -astute journalist must remember the public’s incapacity for taking in -more than one thing at a time, and on the other hand, he must remember -its disposition to be swayed by mere feeling, and its habit of founding -that feeling upon general and indefinite impressions. Reduced to a rule -of everyday practice, this means that the campaign against a given -malefactor must begin a good while before the capital accusation—that -is, the accusation upon which a verdict of guilty is sought—is formally -brought forward. There must be a shelling of the fortress before the -assault; suspicion must precede indignation. If this preliminary work is -neglected or ineptly performed, the result is apt to be a collapse of -the campaign. The public is not ready to switch from confidence to doubt -on the instant; if its general attitude toward a man is sympathetic, -that sympathy is likely to survive even a very vigorous attack. The -accomplished mob-master lays his course accordingly. His first aim is to -arouse suspicion, to break down the presumption of innocence—supposing, -of course, that he finds it to exist. He knows that he must plant a -seed, and tend it long and lovingly, before he may pluck his -dragon-flower. He knows that all storms of emotion, however suddenly -they may seem to come up, have their origin over the rim of -consciousness, and that their gathering is really a slow, slow business. -I mix the figures shamelessly, as mob-masters mix their brews! - -It is this persistence of an attitude which gives a certain degree of -immunity to all newcomers in office, even in the face of sharp and -resourceful assault. For example, a new president. The majority in favor -of him on Inauguration Day is usually overwhelming, no matter how small -his plurality in the November preceding, for common self-respect demands -that the people magnify his virtues: to deny them would be a confession -of national failure, a destructive criticism of the Republic. And that -benignant disposition commonly survives until his first year in office -is more than half gone. The public prejudice is wholly on his side: his -critics find it difficult to arouse any indignation against him, even -when the offenses they lay to him are in violation of the fundamental -axioms of popular morality. This explains why it was that Mr. Wilson was -so little damaged by the charge of federal interference in the -Diggs-Caminetti case—a charge well supported by the evidence brought -forward, and involving a serious violation of popular notions of virtue. -And this explains, too, why he survived the oratorical pilgrimages of -his Secretary of State at a time of serious international -difficulty—pilgrimages apparently undertaken with his approval, and -hence at his political risk and cost. The people were still in favor of -him, and so he was not brought to irate and drum-head judgment. No roar -of indignation arose to the heavens. The opposition newspapers, with -sure instinct, felt the irresistible force of public opinion on his -side, and so they ceased their clamor very quickly. - -But it is just such a slow accumulation of pin-pricks, each apparently -harmless in itself, that finally draws blood; it is by just such a -leisurely and insidious process that the presumption of innocence is -destroyed, and a hospitality to suspicion created. The campaign against -Governor Sulzer in New York offers a classic example of this process in -operation, with very skillful gentlemen, journalistic and political, in -control of it. The charges on which Governor Sulzer was finally brought -to impeachment were not launched at him out of a clear sky, nor while -the primary presumption in his favor remained unshaken. Not at all. They -were launched at a carefully selected and critical moment—at the end, to -wit, of a long and well-managed series of minor attacks. The fortress of -his popularity was bombarded a long while before it was assaulted. He -was pursued with insinuations and innuendoes; various persons, more or -less dubious, were led to make various charges, more or less vague, -against him; the managers of the campaign sought to poison the plain -people with doubts, misunderstandings, suspicions. This effort, so -diligently made, was highly successful; and so the capital charges, when -they were brought forward at last, had the effect of confirmations, of -corroborations, of proofs. But if Tammany had made them during the first -few months of Governor Sulzer’s term, while all doubts were yet in his -favor, it would have got only scornful laughter for its pains. The -ground had to be prepared; the public mind had to be put into training. - - -The end of my space is near, and I find that I have written of popular -morality very copiously, and of newspaper morality very little. But, as -I have said before, the one is the other. The newspaper must adapt its -pleading to its clients’ moral limitations, just as the trial lawyer -must adapt _his_ pleading to the jury’s limitations. Neither may like -the job, but both must face it to gain a larger end. And that end, I -believe, is a worthy one in the newspaper’s case quite as often as in -the lawyer’s, and perhaps far oftener. The art of leading the vulgar, in -itself, does no discredit to its practitioner. Lincoln practiced it -unashamed, and so did Webster, Clay, and Henry. What is more, these men -practiced it with frank allowance for the naïveté of the people they -presumed to lead. It was Lincoln’s chief source of strength, indeed, -that he had a homely way with him, that he could reduce complex problems -to the simple terms of popular theory and emotion, that he did not ask -little fishes to think and act like whales. This is the manner in which -the newspapers do their work, and in the long run, I am convinced, they -accomplish about as much good as harm thereby. Dishonesty, of course, is -not unknown among them: we have newspapers in this land which apply a -truly devilish technical skill to the achievement of unsound and -unworthy ends. But not as many of them as perfectionists usually allege. -Taking one with another, they strive in the right direction. They -realize the massive fact that the plain people, for all their poverty of -wit, cannot be fooled forever. They have a healthy fear of that heathen -rage which so often serves their uses. - -Look back a generation or two. Consider the history of our democracy -since the Civil War. Our most serious problems, it must be plain, have -been solved orgiastically, and to the tune of deafening newspaper urging -and clamor. Men have been washed into office on waves of emotion, and -washed out again in the same manner. Measures and policies have been -determined by indignation far more often than by cold reason. But is the -net result evil? Is there even any permanent damage from those debauches -of sentiment in which the newspapers have acted insincerely, -unintelligently, with no thought save for the show itself? I doubt it. -The effect of their long and melodramatic chase of bosses is an -undoubted improvement in our whole governmental method. The boss of -to-day is not an envied first citizen, but a criminal constantly on -trial. He himself is debarred from all public offices of honor, and his -control over other public officers grows less and less. Elections are no -longer boldly stolen; the humblest citizen may go to the polls in safety -and cast his vote honestly; the machine grows less dangerous year by -year; perhaps it is already less dangerous than a _camorra_ of utopian -and dehumanized reformers would be. We begin to develop an official -morality which actually rises above our private morality. Bribe-takers -are sent to jail by the votes of jurymen who give presents in their -daily business, and are not above beating the street-car company. - -And so, too, in narrower fields. The white-slave agitation of a year or -so ago was ludicrously extravagant and emotional, but its net effect is -a better conscience, a new alertness. The newspapers discharged -broadsides of 12–inch guns to bring down a flock of buzzards—but they -brought down the buzzards. They have libeled and lynched the police—but -the police are the better for it. They have represented salicylic acid -as an elder brother to bichloride of mercury—but we are poisoned less -than we used to be. They have lifted the plain people to frenzies of -senseless terror over drinking-cups and neighbors with coughs—but the -death-rate from tuberculosis declines. They have railroaded men to -prison, denying them all their common rights—but fewer malefactors -escape to-day than yesterday. - -The way of ethical progress is not straight. It describes, to risk a -mathematical pun, a sort of drunken hyperbola. But if we thus move -onward and upward by leaps and bounces, it is certainly better than not -moving at all. Each time, perhaps, we slip back, but each time we stop -at a higher level. - - - - - NEWSPAPER MORALS: A REPLY - - BY RALPH PULITZER - -The striking article in the March _Atlantic_ by Mr. Henry L. Mencken, on -“Newspaper Morals,” is so full of palpable facts supporting plausible -fallacies that simple justice to press and “proletariat” seems to render -proper a few thoughts in answer to it. - -Mr. Mencken’s main facts, summarized, are as follows: that press and -public often approach public questions too superficially and -sentimentally; that the sense of proportion is too often lost in the -heat of campaigns; that the truth is too often obscured by the intrusion -of irrelevant personalities; and that after the intemperate extremes of -reform waves there always come reactions into indifference to the evils -but yesterday so furiously fought. - -Mr. Mencken’s fallacies are: the supercilious assumption that these -weaknesses are not matters of human temperament running up and down -through a certain proportion of every division of society, but that, on -the contrary, they are class affairs, never tainting the educated -classes, but limited to “the man in the street,” “the rabble,” “the -mob”; that apparently the emotionalizing of public questions by the -press is to be censured in principle and sneered at in practice; that it -means a deliberate truckling by the newspapers to the ignorant tastes of -the masses when the press fights a public evil by attacking, with -argument and indignation mingled, a man who personifies that evil, -instead of opposing the general principle of that evil with a wholly -passionless intellectualism. - -A general fallacy which affects Mr. Mencken’s whole article lies in -criticising as offenses against “newspaper morals” those imperfections -which, where they exist at all, could properly be criticised only under -such criteria as suggested by “Newspaper Intellectuals,” or “Newspapers -as the Exponents of Pure Reason.” - -Mr. Mencken first exposes and deprecates the “aim” of the newspapers to -“knock somebody on the head every day,” “to please the crowd, to give a -good show, by first selecting a deserving victim and then putting him -magnificently to the torture,” and even to fight “constructive campaigns -for good government in exactly the same gothic, melodramatic way.” - -Now “muck-raking” rather than incense-burning is not a deliberate aim so -much as a spontaneous instinct of the average newspaper. Nor is there -anything either mysterious or reprehensible about this. The public, of -all degrees, is more interested in hitting Wrong than in praising Right, -because fortunately we are still in an optimistic state of society, -where Right is taken for granted and Wrong contains the element of the -unusual and abnormal. If the day shall ever come when papers will be -able to “expose” Right and regard Wrong as a foregone conclusion, they -will doubtless quickly reverse their treatment of the two. In an Ali -Baba’s cave it might be natural for a paper to discover some man’s -honesty; in a _yoshiwara_ it might be reasonable for it to expatiate on -some woman’s virtue. But while honesty and virtue and rightness are -assumed to be the normal condition of men and women and things in -general, it does not seem either extraordinary or culpable that people -and press should be more interested in the polemical than in the -platitudinous; in blame than in painting the lily; in attack than in -sending laudatory coals to Newcastle. It scarcely needs remark, however, -that when the element of surprise is introduced by some deed of -exceptional heroism or abnegation or inspiration, the newspapers are not -slow in giving it publicity and praise. - -Mr. Mencken finds it deplorable that “a very definite limit is set, not -only upon the people’s capacity for grasping intellectual concepts, but -also upon their capacity for grasping moral concepts”; that, therefore, -it is necessary “to visualize their cause in some definite and defiant -opponent ... by translating all arguments for a principle into rage -against a man.” Far be it from me to deny that people and papers are too -prone to get diverted from the pursuit of some principle by acrimonious -personalities wholly ungermane to that principle. But the protest -against this should not lead to unfair extremes in the opposite -direction. If Mr. Mencken’s ideal is a nation of philosophers calmly -agreeing on the abstract desirability of honesty while serenely ignoring -the specific picking of their own pockets, we have no ground for -argument. But until we reach such a semi-imbecile Utopia, it would seem -to be no reflection on “the people’s” intellectual or moral concepts -that they should refuse to excite themselves over any theoretical wrong -until their attention is focused on some practical manifestation of it, -in the concrete acts of some specific individual. - -May I add, parenthetically, that some papers and many acutely -intellectual gentlemen find it far more convenient and comfortable to -generalize virtuously than to particularize virtuously? Nor does it -require merely moral or physical courage to reduce the safely general to -the disagreeably personal. It requires no despicable amount of -intellectual acumen as well. - -Mr. Mencken next proceeds to “assume here, as an axiom too obvious to be -argued, that the chief appeal of a newspaper in all such holy causes is -not at all to the educated and reflective minority of citizens, but to -the ignorant and unreflective majority.” On the contrary, it is very far -from being “too obvious to be argued.” A great many persons of -guaranteed education are sadly destitute of any reflectiveness -whatsoever, while an appalling number of “the ignorant” have the -effrontery to be able to reflect very efficiently. This is apart from -the fact that the general intelligence among many of the ignorant is -matched only by the abysmal stupidity of many of the educated. - -Thus it is that the decent paper makes its appeal on public questions to -the numerically large body of reflective “ignorance” and to the -numerically small body of reflective education, leaving it to the -demagogic papers, which are the exception at one end, to inflame the -unreflective ignorant, and to the sycophantic papers at the other end to -pander to the unreflective educated. - -As to Mr. Mencken’s charge that he knows of “no subject, save perhaps -baseball, on which the average American newspaper discourses with -unfailing sense and understanding,” I know of no subject at all, even -including baseball, on which the most exceptionally gifted man in the -world discourses with unfailing sense and understanding. But I do know -this: that, considering the immense range of subjects which the American -paper is called upon to discuss, and its meagre limits of time in which -to prepare for such discussion, the failings of that paper in sense and -understanding are probably rarer than would be those under the same -conditions of Mr. Mencken’s most fastidious selection. - -“But,” Mr. Mencken continues, “whenever the public journals presume to -illuminate such a matter as municipal taxation, for example, or the -extension of local transportation facilities, or the punishment of -public or private criminals, or the control of public-service -corporations, or the revision of city charters, the chief effect of -their effort is to introduce into it a host of extraneous issues, most -of them wholly emotional, and so they continue to make it unintelligible -to all earnest seekers after truth.” Here again it is all a matter of -point of view. If Mr. Mencken’s earnest seekers after truth wish to -evolve ideological schemes of municipal taxation, or supramundane -extensions of transportation facilities, or transcendental control of -public-service corporations, or academic revisions of city charters, -then, indeed, the newspaper discussions of these questions would be -bewildering to these visionary workers in the realms of pure reason. For -the newspapers “presume” to regard these questions, not as theoretical -problems, to be solved under theoretical conditions, on theoretical -populations, to theoretical perfection, but as workable projects for a -workaday world, in which the most beautiful abstract reasoning must -stand the test of flesh-and-blood conditions; they regard emotional -issues as so far, indeed, from being extraneous that the human nature of -the humblest men and women must be weighed in the balance against the -nicest syllogisms of the precisest logic. And this is nothing that Mr. -Mencken need condescend to apologize for so long as “newspaper morals” -are under discussion. For it must be obvious that the honest exposition -and analysis of public questions from a human as well as a scientific -point of view is a higher moral service to the community than an -exclusively scientific, wholly unsympathetic search after truth by those -who regard populations as mere subjects for the demonstration of -principles. - -It is precisely the honorable prerogative of newspapers not only to -clarify but to vivify, to galvanize dead hypotheses into living -questions, to make the educated and the ignorant alike feel that public -questions should interest and stir all good citizens and not merely -engross social philosophers and political theorists. - -But here let me avoid joining Mr. Mencken in the pitfall of -generalizations, by drawing a sharp distinction between the great run of -decent papers which do honestly emotionalize public questions and the -relatively few papers which unscrupulously _hystericalize_ these -questions. - -Mr. Mencken is entirely correct when he admits that this emotionalizing -brings these problems down to a “man’s comprehension, and, what is more -important, within the range of his active sympathies.” But he again -shows a very unfortunate class arrogance when he identifies this man as -“the man in the street.” If Mr. Mencken searched earnestly enough after -truth, he would find this man to be about as extensively the man at the -ticker, the man in the motor-car, the man at the operating table, the -man in the pulpit. In the same vein he continues that the only papers -which discuss good government unemotionally “are diligently avoided by -the _mob_.” If Mr. Mencken only included with his proletariat the mob of -stockbrokers and doctors and engineers and lawyers and college graduates -generally, who refuse to read these logical and unemotional discussions, -he would unfortunately be quite right. It would be a beautiful thing -indeed if we had with us to-day one hundred millions of “earnest seekers -after truth,” all busily engaged in discussing “good government in the -abstract,” “logically and unemotionally.” If they were only thus -dispassionately busied, it is quite true that things would not be as at -present, when “they are always ready for a man hunt and their favorite -quarry is a man of politics. If no such prey is at hand, they will turn -to wealthy debauchees, to fallen Sunday-school superintendents, to money -barons, to white-slave traders.” In those halcyon times the one hundred -million calm abstractionists would discuss the influence of Beaumont and -Fletcher on bosses, or, failing this, the ultimate effect of wealth on -eroticism, the obscure relations between proselyting and decadence, or -the effect of the white-slave traffic on the gold reserve. - -But in our present unregenerate epoch Mr. Mencken is quite right in -holding that it is generally the specific evils of government or society -which bring about reform waves, which in turn crystallize themselves -into general principles. It is a shockingly practical process, I admit; -but then, we are a shockingly practical people, who prefer sordid -results to inspired theories. And at that we are not in such bad -company. For in no country in the world is there such a thing as a -“revealed” civilization. On the contrary, civilization has always been -for the most part purely empirical, and progress will ever remain so. - -There is, therefore, cause not for shame but for pride when a newspaper -reveals some specific iniquity, and by not merely expounding its -isolated character to the public intelligence, but also by interpreting -its general menace to the public imagination and bringing home its -inherent evil to the public conscience, arouses that public to social -legislation, criminal prosecution, or political reform. - -Mr. Mencken next assaults once more his unfortunate “man in the street” -by declaring that “it is always as a game, of course, that the man in -the street views moral endeavor.... His interest in it is almost always -a sporting interest.” On the contrary, here at last we have a case where -a class distinction can fairly be drawn. “The man in the street” is a -naïve man who takes his melodrama seriously, who believes robustly in -blacks and whites without subtilizing them into intermediate shades, for -whom villains and heroes really exist. He is the last person on earth to -view the moral endeavor of a political or social campaign as a game. It -is the supercilious class, with its sophistication and attendant -cynicism, to whom such campaigns tend to take on the aspect of sporting -events and games of skill. - -But it is not necessary to go into the details of Mr. Mencken’s theory -as to the depraved nature of popular participation in political reform. -Its gist is contained in his truly shocking statement that the war on -the Tweed ring and its extirpation was to the “plain people” nothing but -“sport royal”! Any one who can take one of the most inspiring civic -victories in the history, not alone of a city, but of a nation, and -degrade the spirit that brought it about to the level of the cockpit or -the bull ring, supplies an argument that needs no reinforcing against -his prejudices on this whole subject. - -Mr. Mencken justly deplores the reactions which follow upon reform -successes, but unjustly concentrates the blame on the fickleness of “the -rabble.” This evil is not a matter of mob-psychology but of unstable -human nature, high and low. These revulsions and reactions are the -shame, impartially, of all classes of our communities. They permeate the -educated atmosphere of fastidious clubs as extensively as they do the -ignorant miasma of vulgar saloons. If they induce the “ignorant and -unreflective” plebeian to sit in his shirt-sleeves with his legs up, -resting his feet, on election day, instead of doing his duty at the -polls, do they not equally congest the golf links with “earnest seekers -after truth” busily engaged in sacrificing ballots to Bogeys? - -I wholly agree with Mr. Mencken’s strictures on the public morality -which holds it to be a relevant defense for a ballot-box stuffer “that -he is kind to his little children.” The sentimentalism which so -frequently perverts a proper public conception of public morality is -sickening. But here again the indictment should be against average human -nature, educated or ignorant, and not against the “man in the street” as -a class and alone. To this man the fact that the ballot-box stuffer is -kind to his little children may carry more weight than to the man of -education and culture. To the latter the fact that some -monopoly-breeding, law-defying, legislation-bribing, railroad-wrecking -gentleman is kind to his fellow citizens by donating to them picture -galleries and free libraries may carry more weight than to the former. -Is not the one just as much as the other “ready to let feeling triumph -over every idea of abstract justice”? - -Again, with Mr. Mencken’s prescription for making a successful newspaper -crusade there can be no quarrel, save that here once more he suggests, -by referring to the newspaper as a “mob-master,” that these methods are -exclusively applicable to the same long-suffering “man in the street.” -These methods on which Mr. Mencken elaborates are the rather obvious -ones used by every lawyer, clergyman, statesman, or publicist the world -over who has a forensic fight to make and win against some public -evil—accusation, iteration, cumulation, and climax. If these methods are -used by “mob-masters,” they are equally used by snob-servants, and -incidentally by the great mass of honest newspapers which are neither -the one thing nor the other. - -At the end of his article, having set up a man of straw which he found -it impossible to knock down, Mr. Mencken patronizingly pats it on the -back:— - -“The newspaper must adapt its pleading to its client’s moral -limitations, just as the trial lawyer must adapt his pleading to the -jury’s limitations. Neither may like the job, but both must face it to -gain a larger end. And that end is a worthy one in the newspaper’s case -quite as often as in the lawyer’s, and perhaps far oftener. The art of -leading the vulgar in itself does no discredit to its practitioner. -Lincoln practised it unashamed, and so did Webster, Clay, and Henry.” - -Alas for this well-intentioned effort at amends! It is impossible to -agree with Mr. Mencken even here when he praises press and public with -such faint damnation. - -A decent newspaper does not and must not adapt its pleadings to its -clients’ moral limitations. Intellectual limitations? Yes. It is -restricted by a line beyond which intelligence and education alike would -be at sea, and which only specialists and experts would understand. But -moral limitations? No. The paper in this regard is less like the lawyer -and more like the judge. A judge can properly adapt his charge in -simplicity of form to the intellectual limitations of the jury, but it -will scarcely be contended that he may adapt his charge in its substance -to the moral limitations of the jury. No more can any self-respecting -paper palter with what it believes to be the right and the truth because -of any moral limitations in its constituency. Demagogic papers may do -it. Class-catering papers may do it. But the decent press which lies -between does not thus stultify itself. - -And now to Mr. Mencken’s condescending conclusion:— - -“Our most serious problems, it must be plain, have been solved -orgiastically and to the tune of deafening newspaper urging and -clamor.... But is the net result evil?... I doubt it.... The way of -ethical progress is not straight.... But if we thus move onward and -upward by leaps and bounces, it is certainly better than not moving at -all. Each time, perhaps, we slip back, but each time we stop at a higher -level.” - -Why, then, sweepingly reflect on the morals of the press, if by -humanizing abstract principles, by emotionalizing academic doctrines, by -personifying general theories, it has accomplished this progress? -Granted that in the heat of battle it fails to handle the cold -conceptions of austere philosophers with proper scientific etiquette. -Granted that it makes blunders in technical statements which to the -preciosity of specialists seem inexcusable. Granted that it mixes its -science and its sentiment in a manner to shock the gentlemen of -disembodied intellects. Granted that the press has many more such -intellectual peccadilloes on its conscience. - -But if the press does these things honestly, it does them morally, and -does not need to excuse them by their results, even though these results -are in very truth infinitely more precious to humanity than could be -those obtained by the chill endeavors of what Mr. Mencken himself, with -the perfect accuracy of would-be irony, describes as “a Camorra of -Utopian and dehumanized reformers.” - - - - - THE SUPPRESSION OF IMPORTANT NEWS - - BY EDWARD ALSWORTH ROSS - - - I - -Most of the criticism launched at our daily newspapers hits the wrong -party. Granted that they sensationalize vice and crime, “play up” -trivialities, exploit the private affairs of prominent people, embroider -facts, and offend good taste with screech, blare, and color. All this -may be only the means of meeting the demand, of “giving the public what -it wants.” The newspaper cannot be expected to remain dignified and -serious now that it caters to the common millions, instead of, as -formerly, to the professional and business classes. To interest -errand-boy and factory-girl and raw immigrant, it had to become spicy, -amusing, emotional, and chromatic. For these, blame, then, the American -people. - -There is just one deadly, damning count against the daily newspaper as -it is coming to be, namely, _it does not give the news_. - -For all its pretensions, many a daily newspaper is not “giving the -public what it wants.” In spite of these widely trumpeted prodigies of -costly journalistic “enterprise,” these ferreting reporters and hurrying -correspondents, these leased cables and special trains, news, good -“live” news, “red-hot stuff,” is deliberately being suppressed or -distorted. This occurs oftener now than formerly, and bids fair to occur -yet oftener in the future. - -And this in spite of the fact that the aspiration of the press has been -upward. Venality has waned. Better and better men have been drawn into -journalism, and they have wrought under more self-restraint. The time -when it could be said, as it was said of the Reverend Dr. Dodd, that one -had “descended so low as to become editor of a newspaper,” seems as -remote as the Ice Age. The editor who uses his paper to air his -prejudices, satisfy his grudges, and serve his private ambitions, is -going out. Sobered by a growing realization of their social function, -newspaper men have come under a sense of responsibility. Not long ago it -seemed as if a professional spirit and a professional ethics were about -to inspire the newspaper world; and to this end courses and schools of -journalism were established, with high hopes. The arrest of this -promising movement explains why nine out of ten newspaper men of fifteen -years’ experience are cynics. - -As usual, no one is to blame. The apostasy of the daily press is caused -by three economic developments in the field of newspaper publishing. - - - II - -In the first place, the great city daily has become a blanket sheet with -elaborate presswork, printed in mammoth editions that must be turned out -in the least time. The necessary plant is so costly, and the Associated -Press franchise is so expensive, that the daily newspaper in the big -city has become a capitalistic enterprise. To-day a million dollars will -not begin to outfit a metropolitan newspaper. The editor is no longer -the owner, for he has not, and cannot command, the capital needed to -start it or buy it. The editor of the type of Greeley, Dana, Medill, -Story, Halstead, and Raymond, who owns his paper and makes it his astral -body, the projection of his character and ideals, is rare. Perhaps Mr. -Watterson and Mr. Nelson [the late William R. Nelson of the _Kansas City -Star_] are the best recent representatives of the type. - -More and more the owner of the big daily is a business man who finds it -hard to see why he should run his property on different lines from the -hotel proprietor, the vaudeville manager, or the owner of an amusement -park. The editors are hired men, and they may put into the paper no more -of their conscience and ideals than comports with getting the biggest -return from the investment. Of course, the old-time editor who owned his -paper tried to make money,—no sin that!—but just as to-day the author, -the lecturer, or the scholar tries to make money, namely, within the -limitations imposed by his principles and his professional standards. -But, now that the provider of the newspaper capital hires the editor -instead of the editor hiring the newspaper capital, the paper is -likelier to be run as a money-maker pure and simple—a factory where ink -and brains are so applied to white paper as to turn out the largest -possible marketable product. The capitalist-owner means no harm, but he -is not bothered by the standards that hamper the editor-owner. He -follows a few simple maxims that work out well enough in selling shoes -or cigars or sheet-music. “Give people what _they_ want, not what _you_ -want.” “Back nothing that will be unpopular.” “Run the concern for all -it is worth.” - -This drifting of ultimate control into the hands of men with business -motives is what is known as “the commercialization of the press.” - -The significance of it is apparent when you consider the second economic -development, namely, the growth of newspaper advertising. The -dissemination of news and the purveying of publicity are two essentially -distinct functions, which, for the sake of convenience, are carried on -by the same agency. The one appeals to subscribers, the other to -advertisers. The one calls for good faith, the other does not. The one -is the corner-stone of liberty and democracy, the other a convenience of -commerce. Now, the purveying of publicity is becoming the main concern -of the newspaper, and threatens to throw quite into the shade the -communication of news or opinions. Every year the sale of advertising -yields a larger proportion of the total receipts, and the subscribers -furnish a smaller proportion. Thirty years ago, advertising yielded less -than half of the earnings of the daily newspapers. To-day, it yields at -least two thirds. In the larger dailies the receipts from advertisers -are several times the receipts from the readers, in some cases -constituting ninety per cent of the total revenues. As the newspaper -expands to eight, twelve, and sixteen pages, while the price sinks to -three cents, two cents, one cent, the time comes when the advertisers -support the newspaper. The readers are there to _read_, not to provide -funds. “He who pays the piper calls the tune.” When news columns and -editorial page are a mere incident in the profitable sale of mercantile -publicity, it is strictly “businesslike” to let the big advertisers -censor both. - -Of course, you must not let the cat out of the bag, or you will lose -readers, and thereupon advertising. As the publicity expert, Deweese, -frankly puts it, “The reader must be flimflammed with the idea that the -publisher is really publishing the newspaper or magazine for him.” The -wise owner will “maintain the beautiful and impressive bluff of running -a journal to influence public opinion, to purify politics, to elevate -public morals, etc.” In the last analysis, then, the smothering of facts -in deference to the advertiser finds a limit in the intelligence and -alertness of the reading public. Handled as “a commercial proposition,” -the newspaper dares not suppress such news beyond a certain point, and -it can always proudly point to the unsuppressed news as proof of its -independence and public spirit. - -The immunity enjoyed by the big advertiser becomes more serious as more -kinds of business resort to advertising. Formerly, readers who -understood why accidents and labor troubles never occur in department -stores, why dramatic criticisms are so lenient, and the reviews of books -from the publishers who advertise are so good-natured, could still -expect from their journal an ungloved freedom in dealing with gas, -electric, railroad, and banking companies. But now the gas people -advertise, “Cook with gas,” the electric people urge you to put your -sewing-machine on their current, and the railroads spill oceans of ink -to attract settlers or tourists. The banks and trust companies are -buyers of space, investment advertising has sprung up like Jonah’s -gourd, and telephone and traction companies are being drawn into the -vortex of competitive publicity. Presently, in the news-columns of the -sheet that steers by the cash-register, every concern that has favors to -seek, duties to dodge, or regulations to evade, will be able to press -the soft pedal. - -A third development is the subordination of newspapers to other -enterprises. After a newspaper becomes a piece of paying property, -detachable from the editor’s personality, which may be bought and sold -like a hotel or mill, it may come into the hands of those who will hold -it in bondage to other and bigger investments. The magnate-owner may -find it to his advantage not to run it as a newspaper pure and simple, -but to make it—on the sly—an instrument for coloring certain kinds of -news, diffusing certain misinformation, or fostering certain impressions -or prejudices in its clientele. In a word, he may shape its policy by -non-journalistic considerations. By making his paper help his other -schemes, or further his political or social ambitions, he will hurt it -as a money-maker, no doubt, but he may contrive to fool enough of the -people enough of the time. Aside from such thraldom, newspapers are -subject to the tendency of diverse businesses to become tied together by -the cross-investments of their owners. But naturally, when the shares of -a newspaper lie in the safe-deposit box cheek by jowl with gas, -telephone, and pipeline stock, a tenderness for these collateral -interests is likely to affect the news columns. - - - III - -That in consequence of its commercialization, and its frequent -subjection to outside interests, the daily newspaper is constantly -suppressing important news, will appear from the instances that follow. -They are hardly a third of the material that has come to the writer’s -attention. - -A prominent Philadelphia clothier visiting New York was caught -perverting boys, and cut his throat. His firm being a heavy advertiser, -not a single paper in his home city mentioned the tragedy. One New York -paper took advantage of the situation by sending over an extra edition -containing the story. The firm in question has a large branch in a -Western city. There too the local press was silent, and the opening was -seized by a Chicago paper. - -In this same Western city the vice-president of this firm was indicted -for bribing an alderman to secure the passage of an ordinance -authorizing the firm to bridge an alley separating two of its buildings. -Representatives of the firm requested the newspapers in which it -advertised to ignore the trial. Accordingly the five English papers -published no account of the trial, which lasted a week and disclosed -highly sensational matter. Only the German papers sent reporters to the -trial and published the proceedings. - -In a great jobbing centre, one of the most prominent cases of the United -States District Attorney was the prosecution of certain firms for -misbranding goods. The facts brought out appeared in the press of the -smaller centres, but not a word was printed in the local papers. In -another centre, four firms were fined for selling potted cheese which -had been treated with preservatives. The local newspapers stated the -facts, but withheld the names of the firms—a consideration they are not -likely to show to the ordinary culprit. - -In a trial in a great city it was brought out by sworn testimony that, -during a recent labor struggle which involved teamsters on the one hand -and the department stores and the mail-order houses on the other, the -employers had plotted to provoke the strikers to violence by sending a -long line of strike-breaking wagons out of their way to pass a lot on -which the strikers were meeting. These wagons were the bait to a trap, -for a strong force of policemen was held in readiness in the vicinity, -and the governor of the state was at the telephone ready to call out the -militia if a riot broke out. Fortunately, the strikers restrained -themselves, and the trap was not sprung. It is easy to imagine the -headlines that would have been used if labor had been found in so -diabolical a plot. Yet the newspapers unanimously refused to print this -testimony. - -In the same city, during a strike of the elevator men in the large -stores, the business agent of the elevator-starters’ union was beaten to -death, in an alley behind a certain emporium, by a “strong-arm” man -hired by that firm. The story, supported by affidavits, was given by a -responsible lawyer to three newspaper men, each of whom accepted it as -true and promised to print it. The account never appeared. - -In another city the sales-girls in the big shops had to sign an -exceedingly mean and oppressive contract which, if generally known, -would have made the firms odious to the public. A prominent social -worker carried these contracts, and evidence as to the bad conditions -that had become established under them, to every newspaper in the city. -Not one would print a line on the subject. - -On the outbreak of a justifiable street-car strike the newspapers were -disposed to treat it in a sympathetic way. Suddenly they veered, and -became unanimously hostile to the strikers. Inquiry showed that the big -merchants had threatened to withdraw their advertisements unless the -newspapers changed their attitude. - -In the summer of 1908 disastrous fires raged in the northern Lake -country, and great areas of standing timber were destroyed. A prominent -organ of the lumber industry belittled the losses and printed reassuring -statements from lumbermen who were at the very moment calling upon the -state for a fire patrol. When taxed with the deceit, the organ pleaded -its obligation to support the market for the bonds which the lumber -companies of the Lake region had been advertising in its columns. - -On account of agitating for teachers’ pensions, a teacher was summarily -dismissed by a corrupt school board, in violation of their own published -rule regarding tenure. An influential newspaper published the facts of -school-board grafting brought out in the teacher’s suit for -reinstatement until, through his club affiliations, a big merchant was -induced to threaten the paper with the withdrawal of his advertising. No -further reports of the revelations appeared. - -During labor disputes the facts are usually distorted to the injury of -labor. In one case, strikers held a meeting on a vacant lot enclosed by -a newly-erected billboard. Forthwith appeared, in a yellow journal -professing warm friendship for labor, a front-page cut of the billboard -and a lurid story of how the strikers had built a “stockade,” behind -which they intended to bid defiance to the bluecoats. It is not -surprising that, when the van bringing these lying sheets appeared in -their quarter of the city, the libeled men overturned it. - -During the struggle of carriage-drivers for a six-day week, certain -great dailies lent themselves to a concerted effort of the liverymen to -win public sympathy by making it appear that the strikers were -interfering with funerals. One paper falsely stated that a strong force -of police was being held in reserve in case of “riots,” and that -policemen would ride beside the non-union drivers of hearses. Another, -under the misleading headline, “Two Funerals stopped by Striking -Cabmen,” described harmless colloquies between hearse-drivers and -pickets. This was followed up with a solemn editorial, “May a Man go to -his Long Rest in Peace?” although, as a matter of fact, the strikers had -no intention of interfering with funerals. - -The lying headline is a favorite device for misleading the reader. One -sheet prints on its front page a huge “scare” headline, “‘Hang Haywood -and a Million Men will march in Revenge,’ says Darrow.” The few readers -whose glance fell from the incendiary headline to the dispatch below it -found only the following: “Mr. Darrow, in closing the argument, said -that ‘if the jury hangs Bill Haywood, one million willing hands will -seize the banner of liberty by the open grave, and bear it on to -victory.’” In the same style, a dispatch telling of the death of an -English policeman, from injuries received during a riot precipitated by -suffragettes attempting to enter a hall during a political meeting, is -headed, “Suffragettes kill Policeman!” - -The alacrity with which many dailies serve as mouthpieces of the -financial powers came out very clearly during the recent industrial -depression. The owner of one leading newspaper called his reporters -together and said in effect, “Boys, the first of you who turns in a -story of a lay-off or a shut-down gets the sack.” Early in the -depression the newspapers teemed with glowing accounts of the resumption -of steel mills and the revival of business, all baseless. After harvest -time they began to cheep, “Prosperity,” “Bumper Crops,” “Farmers buying -Automobiles.” In cities where banks and employers offered clearing-house -certificates instead of cash, the press usually printed fairy tales of -the enthusiasm with which these makeshifts were taken by depositors and -workingmen. The numbers and sufferings of the unemployed were ruthlessly -concealed from the reading public. A mass meeting of men out of work was -represented as “anarchistic” or “instigated by the socialists for -political effect.” In one daily appeared a dispatch under the heading -“Five Thousand Jobs Offered; only Ten apply.” It stated that the -Commissioner of Public Works of Detroit, misled by reports of dire -distress, set afoot a public work which called for five thousand men. -Only ten men applied for work, and all these expected to be bosses. -Correspondence with the official established the fact that the number of -jobs offered was five hundred, and that three thousand men applied for -them! - - - IV - -On the desk of every editor and sub-editor of a newspaper run by a -capitalist promoter now [1910] under prison sentence lay a list of -sixteen corporations in which the owner was interested. This was to -remind them not to print anything damaging to these concerns. In the -office these corporations were jocularly referred to as “sacred cows.” - -Nearly every form of privilege is found in the herd of “sacred cows” -venerated by the daily press. - -The railroad company is a “sacred cow.” At a hearing before a state -railroad commission, the attorney of a shippers’ association got an -eminent magnate into the witness chair, with the intention of wringing -from him the truth regarding the political expenditures of his railroad. -At this point the commission, an abject creature of the railroads, -arbitrarily excluded the daring attorney from the case. The memorable -excoriation which that attorney gave the commission to its face was made -to appear in the papers as the _cause_ instead of the _consequence_ of -this exclusion. Subsequently, when the attorney filed charges with the -governor against the commission, one editor wrote an editorial stating -the facts and criticising the commissioners. The editorial was -suppressed after it was in type. - -The public-service company is a “sacred cow.” In a city of the -Southwest, last summer [1909], while houses were burning from lack of -water for the fire hose, a lumber company offered to supply the firemen -with water. The water company replied that they had “sufficient.” -Neither this nor other damaging information concerning the company’s -conduct got into the columns of the local press. A yellow journal -conspicuous in the fight for cheaper gas by its ferocious onslaughts on -the “gas trust,” suddenly ceased its attack. Soon it began to carry a -full-page “Cook with gas” advertisement. The cow had found the entrance -to the sacred fold. - -Traction is a “sacred cow.” The truth about Cleveland’s fight for the -three-cent fare has been widely suppressed. For instance, while Mayor -Johnson was superintending the removal of the tracks of a defunct street -railway, he was served with a court order enjoining him from tearing up -the rails. As the injunction was not indorsed, as by law it should be, -he thought it was an ordinary communication, and put it in his pocket to -examine later. The next day he was summoned to show reason why he should -not be found in contempt of court. When the facts came out, he was, of -course, discharged. An examination of the seven leading dailies of the -country shows that a dispatch was sent out from Cleveland stating that -Mayor Johnson, after acknowledging service, pocketed the injunction, and -ordered his men to proceed with their work. In the newspaper offices -this dispatch was then embroidered. One paper said the mayor told his -men to go ahead and ignore the injunction. Another had the mayor -intimating in advance that he would not obey an order if one were -issued. A third invented a conversation in which the mayor and his -superintendent made merry over the injunction. Not one of the seven -journals reported the mayor’s complete exoneration later. - -The tax system is a “sacred cow.” During a banquet of two hundred -single-taxers, at the conclusion of their state conference, a man fell -in a fit. Reporters saw the trifling incident, yet the morning papers, -under big headlines, “Many Poisoned at Single-Tax Banquet,” told in -detail how a large number of banqueters had been ptomaine-poisoned. The -conference had formulated a single-tax amendment to the state -constitution, which they intended to present to the people for signature -under the new Initiative law. One paper gave a line and a half to this -most significant action. No other paper noticed it. - -The party system is a “sacred cow.” When a county district court -declared that the Initiative and Referendum amendment to the Oregon -constitution was invalid, the item was spread broadcast. But when later -the Supreme Court of Oregon reversed that decision, the fact was too -trivial to be put on the wires. - -The “man higher up” is a “sacred cow.” In reporting Prosecutor Heney’s -argument in the Calhoun case, the leading San Francisco paper omitted -everything on the guilt of Calhoun and made conspicuous certain -statements of Mr. Heney with reference to himself, with intent to make -it appear that his argument was but a vindication of himself, and that -he made no points against the accused. The argument for the defense was -printed in full, the “points” being neatly displayed in large type at -proper intervals. At a crisis in this prosecution a Washington dispatch -quoted the chairman of the Appropriations Committee as stating in the -House that “Mr. Heney received during 1908 $23,000, for which he -performed no service whatever for the Government.” It was some hours -before the report was corrected by adding Mr. Tawney’s concluding words, -“during that year.” - -In view of their suppression and misrepresentation of vital truth, the -big daily papers, broadly speaking, must be counted as allies of those -whom—as Editor Dana reverently put it—“God has endowed with a genius for -saving, for getting rich, for bringing wealth together, for accumulating -and concentrating money.” In rallying to the side of the people they are -slower than the weeklies, the magazines, the pulpit, the platform, the -bar, the literati, the intellectuals, the social settlements, and the -universities. - -Now and then, to be sure, in some betrayed and misgoverned city, a man -of force takes some little sheet, prints all the news, ventilates the -local situation, arouses the community, builds up a huge circulation, -and proves that truth-telling still pays. But such exploits do not -counteract the economic developments which have brought on the glacial -epoch in journalism. Note what happens later to such a newspaper. It is -now a valuable property, and as such it will be treated. The editor need -not repeat the bold strokes that won public confidence; he has only to -avoid anything that would forfeit it. Unconsciously he becomes, perhaps, -less a newspaper man, more a business man. He may make investments which -muzzle his paper here, form social connections which silence it there. -He may tire of fighting and want to “cash in.” In any case, when his -newspaper falls into the hands of others, it will be run as a business, -and not as a crusade. - - - V - -What can be done about the suppression of news? At least, we can refrain -from arraigning and preaching. To urge the editor, under the thumb of -the advertiser or of the owner, to be more independent, is to invite him -to remove himself from his profession. As for the capitalist-owner, to -exhort him to run his newspaper in the interests of truth and progress -is about as reasonable as to exhort the mill-owner to work his property -for the public good instead of for his private benefit. - -What is needed is a broad new avenue to the public mind. Already -smothered facts are cutting little channels for themselves. The immense -vogue of the “muck-raking” magazines is due to their being vehicles for -suppressed news. Non-partisan leaders are meeting with cheering response -when they found weeklies in order to reach their natural following. The -Socialist Party supports two dailies, less to spread their ideas than to -print what the capitalistic dailies would stifle. Civic associations, -municipal voters’ leagues, and legislative voters’ leagues, are -circulating tons of leaflets and bulletins full of suppressed facts. -Within a year [1909–10] five cities have, with the tax-payers’ money, -started journals to acquaint the citizens with municipal happenings and -affairs. In many cities have sprung up private non-partisan weeklies to -report civic information. Moreover, the spoken word is once more a -power. The demand for lecturers and speakers is insatiable, and the -platform bids fair to recover its old prestige. The smotherers are -dismayed by the growth of the Chautauqua circuit. Congressional speeches -give vent to boycotted truth, and circulate widely under the franking -privilege. City clubs and Saturday lunch clubs are formed to listen to -facts and ideas tabooed by the daily press. More is made of public -hearings before committees of councilmen or legislators. - -When all is said, however, the defection of the daily press has been a -staggering blow to democracy. - -Many insist that the public is able to recognize and pay for the truth. -“Trust the public” and _in the end_ merit will be rewarded. Time and -again men have sunk money in starting an honest and outspoken sheet, -confident that soon the public would rally to its support. But such -hopes are doomed to disappointment. The editor who turns away bad -advertising or defies his big patrons cannot lay his copy on the -subscriber’s doorstep for as little money as the editor who purveys -publicity for all it is worth; and the masses will not pay three cents -when another paper that “looks just as good” can be had for a cent. In a -word, the art of simulating honesty and independence has outrun the -insight of the average reader. - -To conclude that the people are not able to recognize and pay for the -truth about current happenings simply puts the dissemination of news in -a class with other momentous social services. Because people fail to -recognize and pay for good books, endowed libraries stud the land. -Because they fail to recognize and pay for good instruction, education -is provided free or at part cost. Just as the moment came when it was -seen that private schools, loan libraries, commercial parks, baths, -gymnasia, athletic grounds, and playgrounds would not answer, so the -moment is here for recognizing that the commercial news-medium does not -adequately meet the needs of democratic citizenship. - -Endowment is necessary, and, since we are not yet wise enough to run a -public-owned daily newspaper, the funds must come from private sources. -In view of the fact that in fifteen years large donations aggregating -more than a thousand million of dollars have been made for public -purposes in this country, it is safe to predict that, if the usefulness -of a non-commercial newspaper be demonstrated, funds will be -forthcoming. In the cities, where the secret control of the channels of -publicity is easiest, there are likely to be founded financially -independent newspapers, the gift of public-spirited men of wealth. - -The ultimate control of such a foundation constitutes a problem. A -newspaper free to ignore the threats of big advertisers or powerful -interests, one not to be bought, bullied, or bludgeoned, one that might -at any moment blurt out the damning truth about police protection to -vice, corporate tax-dodging, the grabbing of water frontage by -railroads, or the non-enforcement of the factory laws, would be of such -strategic importance in the struggle for wealth that desperate efforts -would be made to chloroform it. If its governing board perpetuated -itself by coöptation, it would eventually be packed with “safe” men, who -would see to it that the newspaper was run in a “conservative” spirit; -for, in the long run, those who can watch for an advantage _all_ the -time will beat the people, who can watch only _some_ of the time. - -Chloroformed the endowed newspaper will be, unless it be committed to -the onward thought and conscience of the community. This could be done -by letting vacancies on the governing board be filled in turn by the -local bar association, the medical association, the ministers’ union, -the degree-granting faculties, the federated teachers, the central labor -union, the chamber of commerce, the associated charities, the public -libraries, the non-partisan citizens’ associations, the improvement -leagues, and the social settlements. In this way the endowment would -rest ultimately on the chief apexes of moral and intellectual worth in -the city. - -While giving, with headline, cut, and cartoon, the interesting -news,—forgeries and accidents, society and sports, as well as business -and politics,—the endowed newspaper would not dramatize crime, or gossip -of private affairs; above all, it would not “fake,” “doctor,” or -sensationalize the news. Too self-respecting to use keyhole tactics, and -too serious to chronicle the small beer of the wedding trousseau or the -divorce court, such a newspaper could not begin to match the commercial -press in circulation. But it would reach those who reach the public -through the weeklies and monthlies, and would inform the teachers, -preachers, lecturers, and public men, who speak to the people eye to -eye. - -What is more, it would be a _corrective newspaper_, giving a wholesome -leverage for lifting up the commercial press. The big papers would not -dare be caught smothering or “cooking” the news. The revelations of an -independent journal that everybody believed, would be a terror to them, -and, under the spur of a competitor not to be frightened, bought up, or -tired out, they would be compelled, in sheer self-preservation, to tell -the truth much oftener than they do. - -The Erie Canal handles less than a twentieth of the traffic across the -State of New York, yet, by its standing offer of cheap transportation, -it exerts a regulative pressure on railway rates which is realized only -when the canal opens in the spring. On the same principle, the endowed -newspaper in a given city might print only a twentieth of the daily -press output, and yet exercise over the other nineteen twentieths an -influence great and salutary. - - - - - THE PERSONAL EQUATION IN JOURNALISM - - BY HENRY WATTERSON - - - I - -The daily newspaper, under modern conditions, embraces two parts very -nearly separate and distinct in their requirements—the journalistic and -the commercial. - -The aptitude for producing a commodity is one thing, and the aptitude -for putting this commodity on the market is quite another thing. The -difference is not less marked in newspaper-making than in other -pursuits. The framing and execution of contracts for advertising, for -printing-paper and ink, linotyping and press-work; the handling of money -and credits; the organization of the telegraphic service and postal -service; the supervision of machinery—in short, the providing of the -vehicle and the power that turns its wheels—is the work of a single -mind, and usually it is engrossing work. It demands special talent and -ceaseless activity and attention all day long, and every day in the -year. Except it be sufficient, considerable success is out of the -question. Sometimes its sufficiency is able to float an indifferent -product. Without it the best product is likely to languish. - -The making of the newspaper, that is, the collating of the news and its -consistent and uniform distribution and arrangement, the representation -of the mood and tense of the time, a certain continuity, more or less, -of thought and purpose,—the popularization of the commodity,—call for -energies and capacities of another sort. The editor of the morning -newspaper turns night into day. When others sleep he must be awake and -astir. His is the only vocation where versatility is not a hindrance or -a diversion; where the conventional is not imposed upon his personality. -He should be many-sided, and he is often most engaging when he seems -least heedful of rule. Yet nowhere is ready and sound discretion in -greater or more constant need. The editor must never lose his head. -Sure, no less than prompt, judgment is required at every turning. It is -his business to think for everybody. Each subordinate must be so drilled -and fitted to his place as to become in a sense the replica of his -chief. And, even then, when at noon he goes carefully over the work of -the night before, he will be fortunate if he finds that all has gone as -he planned it, or could wish it. - -I am assuming that the make-up of the newspaper is an autocracy: the -product of one man, the offspring of a policy; the man indefatigable and -conscientious, the policy fixed, sober, and alert. In the famous -sea-fight the riffraff of sailors from all nations, whom Paul Jones had -picked up wherever he could find them, responded like the parts of a -machine to the will of their commander. They seemed inspired, the -British Captain Pearson testified before the Court of Inquiry. So in a -well-ordered newspaper office, when at midnight wires are flashing and -feet are hurrying, and to the onlooking stranger chaos seems to reign, -the directing mind and hand have their firm grip upon the tiller-ropes, -which extend from the editorial room to the composing-room, from the -composing-room to the press-room, and from the press-room to the -breakfast-table. - - - II - -Personal journalism had its origin in the crude requirements of the -primitive newspaper. An editor, a printer, and a printer’s devil, were -all-sufficient. For half a century after the birth of the daily -newspaper in America, one man did everything which fell under the head -of editorial work. The army of reporters, telegraphers, and writers, -duly officered and classified, which has come to occupy the larger -field, was undreamed of by the pioneers of Boston, New York, -Philadelphia, and Baltimore. - -Individual ownership was the rule. Little money was embarked. Commonly -it was “So-and-So’s paper.” Whilst the stories of private war, of -pistols and coffee, have been exaggerated, the early editors were much -beset; were held to strict accountability for what appeared in their -columns; sometimes had to take their lives in their hands. In certain -regions the duello flourished—one might say became the fashion. Up to -the War of Secession, the instance of an editor who had not had a -personal encounter, indeed, many encounters, was a rare one. Not a few -editors acquired celebrity as “crack shots,” gaining more reputation by -their guns than by their pens. - -The familiar “Stop my paper” was personally addressed, an ebullition of -individual resentment. - -“Mr. Swain,” said an irate subscriber to the founder of the -_Philadelphia Ledger_, whom he met one morning on his way to his place -of business, “I have stopped your paper, sir—I have stopped your paper.” - -Mr. Swain was a gentleman of dignity and composure. “Indeed,” said he, -with a kindly intonation; “come with me and let us see about it.” - -When the two had reached the spot where the office of the _Ledger_ -stood, nothing unusual appeared to have happened: the building was still -there, the force within apparently engaged in its customary activities. -Mr. Swain looked leisurely about him, and turning upon his now expectant -but thoroughly puzzled fellow townsman, he said,— - -“Everything seems to be as I left it last night. Stop my paper, sir! How -could you utter such a falsehood!” - -Mr. James Gordon Bennett, the elder, was frequently and brutally -assailed. So was Mr. Greeley. Mr. Prentice, though an expert in the use -of weapons, did not escape many attacks of murderous intent. Editors -fought among themselves, anon with fatal result, especially about -Richmond in Virginia, and Nashville in Tennessee, and New Orleans. So -self-respecting a gentleman, and withal so peaceful a citizen, as Mr. -William Cullen Bryant, fell upon a rival journalist with a horsewhip on -Broadway, in New York. The prosy libel suit has come to take the place -of the tragic street duel,—the courts of law to settle what was formerly -submitted to the code of honor,—the star part of “fighting editor” -having come to be a relic of bygone squalor and glory. The call to arms -in 1861 found few of the editorial bullies ready for the fray, and no -one of them made his mark as a soldier in battle. They were good only on -parade. Even the South had its fill of combat, valor grew too common to -be distinguished, and, out of a very excess of broil and blood, along -with multiplied opportunities for the display of courage, gun-play got -its quietus. The good old times, when it was thought that a man who had -failed at all else could still keep a hotel and edit a newspaper, have -passed away. They are gone forever. If a gentleman kills his man -nowadays, even in honest and fair fight, they call it murder. Editors -have actually to be educated to their work, and to work for their -living. The soul of Bombastes has departed, and journalism is no longer -irradiated and advertised by the flash of arms. - -We are wont to hear of the superior integrity of those days. There will -always be in direct accountability a certain sense of obligation lacking -to the anonymous and impersonal. Most men will think twice before they -commit their thoughts to print where their names are affixed. Ambition -and vanity, as well as discretion, play a restraining part here; they -play it, even though there be no provocation to danger. Yet, seeing that -somebody must be somewhere back of the pen, the result would appear -still to be referable to private character. - -Most of the personal journalists were in alliance with the contemporary -politicians; all of them were the slaves of party. Many of them were -without convictions, holding to the measures of the time the relation -held by the play-actors to the parts that come to them on the stage. -Before the advent of the elder Bennett, independent journalism was -unknown. In the “partnership” of Seward, Weed, and Greeley,—Mr. Greeley -himself described it, he being “the junior member,”—office, no less than -public printing, was the object of two members at least of the firm. -Lesser figures were squires instead of partners, their chiefs as knights -of old. Callender first served, then maligned, Jefferson. Croswell was -the man-at-arms of the Albany Regency, valet to Mr. Van Buren. Forney -played majordomo to Mr. Buchanan until Buchanan, becoming President, -left his poor follower to hustle for himself; a signal, but not -anomalous, piece of ingratitude. Prentice held himself to the orders of -Clay. Even Raymond, set up in business by the money of Seward’s friends, -could call his soul his own only toward the end of his life, and then by -a single but fatal misstep brought ruin upon the property his genius had -created. - -Not, indeed, until the latter third of the last century did independent -journalism acquire considerable vogue, with Samuel Bowles and Charles A. -Dana to lead it in the East, and Murat Halstead and Horace White, -followed by Joseph Medill, Victor F. Lawson, Melville E. Stone, and -William R. Nelson, in the West. - - - III - -The new school of journalism, sometimes called impersonal and taking its -lead from the counting-room, which generally prevails, promises to -become universal in spite of an individualist here and there uniting -salient characteristics to controlling ownership—a union which in the -first place created the personal journalism of other days. - -Here, however, the absence of personality is more apparent than real. -Control must be lodged somewhere. Whether it be upstairs, or downstairs, -it is bound to be—if successful—both single-minded and arbitrary, the -embodiment of the inspiration and the will of one man; the expression -made to fit the changed conditions which have impressed themselves upon -the writing and the speaking of our time. - -Eloquence and fancy, oratory and rhetoric, have for the most part given -place in our public life to the language of business. More and more do -budgets usurp the field of affairs. As fiction has exhausted the -situations possible to imaginative writing, so has popular declamation -exhausted the resources of figurative speech; and just as the novel -seeks other expedients for arousing and holding the interest of its -readers, do speakers and publicists, abandoning the florid and -artificial, aim at the simple and the lucid, the terse and incisive, the -argument the main point, attained, as a rule, in the statement. To this -end the counting-room, with its close kinship to the actualities of the -world about it, has a definite advantage over the editorial room, as a -school of instruction. Nor is there any reason why the head of the -counting-room should not be as highly qualified to direct the editorial -policies as the financial policies of the newspaper of which, as the -agent of a corporation or an estate, he has become the executive; the -newspaper thus conducted assuming something of the character of the -banking institution and the railway company, being indeed in a sense a -common carrier. At least a greater show of stability and respectability, -if not a greater sense of responsibility, would be likely to follow such -an arrangement, since it would establish a more immediate relation with -the community than that embraced by the system which seems to have -passed away, a system which was not nearly so accessible, and was, -moreover, hedged about by a certain mystery that attaches itself to -midnight, to the flare of the footlights and the smell of printers’ ink. - -I had written thus far and was about to pursue this line of thought with -some practical suggestion emanating from a wealth of observation and -reminiscence when, reading the _Atlantic Monthly_ for March, I -encountered the following passage from the very thoughtful paper of Mr. -Edward Alsworth Ross, entitled “The Suppression of Important News”:— - -“More and more the owner of the big daily is a business man who finds it -hard to see why he should run his property on different lines from the -hotel proprietor, the vaudeville manager, or the owner of an amusement -park. The editors are hired men, and they may put into the paper no more -of their conscience and ideals than comports with getting the biggest -return from the investment. Of course, the old-time editor who owned his -paper tried to make money—no sin, that!—but just as to-day the author, -the lecturer, or the scholar, tries to make money, namely, within the -limitations imposed by his principles and his professional standards. -But, now that the provider of the newspaper capital hires the editor -instead of the editor hiring the newspaper capital, the paper is -likelier to be run as a money-maker pure and simple—a factory where ink -and brains are so applied to white paper as to turn out the largest -possible marketable product. The capitalist-owner means no harm, but he -is not bothered by the standards that hamper the editor-owner. He -follows a few simple maxims that work out well enough in selling shoes -or cigars or sheet-music.” - -There follow many examples of the “suppression” of “news.” Some of these -might be called “important.” Others are less so. Here enters a question -as to what is “news” and what is not; a question which gives rise to -frequent and sometimes considerable differences of opinion. - -If the newspaper manager is to make no distinction between vaudeville -and journalism, between the selling of white paper disfigured by -printer’s ink and the selling of shoes, or sheet-music, comment would -seem superfluous. I venture to believe that such a manager would nowhere -be able long to hold his own against one of an ambition and intelligence -better suited to supplying the requirement of the public demand for a -vehicle of communication between itself and the world at large. Now and -then we see a very well-composed newspaper fail of success because of -its editorial character and tone. Now and then we see one succeed, -having no editorial character and tone. But the rule is otherwise. The -leading dailies everywhere stand for something. They are rarely without -aspiration. Because of the unequal capabilities of those who conduct -them, they have had their ups and downs: great journals, like the -_Chicago Times_, passing out of existence through the lack of an -adequate head; failing journals, like the _New York World_, saved from -shipwreck by the timely arrival of an adequate head. - -My own observation leads me to believe that more is to be charged -against the levity and indifference of the average newspaper—perhaps I -should say its ignorance and indolence—than against the suppression of -important news. As a matter of fact, suppression does not suppress. -Conflicting interests attend to that. Mr. Ross relates that on the desk -of every editor and sub-editor of a newspaper run by a certain -capitalist, who was also a promoter, lay a list of sixteen corporations -in which the owner was interested. This was to remind them not to print -anything damaging to those particular concerns. In the office the -exempted subjects were jocularly referred to as “sacred cows.” - -This case, familiar to all newspaper men, was an extreme one. The -newspaper proved a costly and ignominious failure. Its owner, who ran it -on the lines of an “amusement park,” landed first in a bankruptcy and -then in a criminal court, finally to round up in the penitentiary. -Before him, and in the same city, a fellow “journalist” had been given a -state-prison sentence. In another and adjacent city the editor and owner -of a famous and influential newspaper who had prostituted himself and -his calling escaped the stripes of a convict only through executive -clemency. - -The disposition to publish everything, without regard to private feeling -or good neighborhood, may be carried to an excess quite as hurtful to -the community as the suppressions of which Mr. Ross tells us in his -interesting résumé. The newspaper which constitutes itself judge and -jury, which condemns in advance of conviction, which, reversing the -English rule of law, assumes the accused guilty instead of innocent,—the -newspaper, in short, which sets itself up as a public prosecutor,—is -likely to become a common scold and to arouse its readers out of all -proportion to any good achieved by publicity. As in other affairs of -life, the sense of decency imposes certain reserves, and also the sense -of charity. - -The justest complaint which may be laid at the door of the modern -newspaper seems to me its invasion of the home, and the conversion of -its reporters into detectives. Pretending to be the defender of liberty, -it too often is the assailant of private right. Each daily issue should -indeed aim to be the history of yesterday, but it should be clean as -well as truthful; and as we seek in our usual walks and ways to avoid -that which is nasty and ghastly, so should we, in the narration of -scandal and crime, guard equally against exaggeration and pruriency, nor -be ashamed to suppress that which may be too vile to tell. - -In a recent article Mr. Victor Rosewater, the accomplished editor of the -_Omaha Bee_, takes issue with Mr. Ross upon the whole line of his -argument, which he subjects to the critical analysis of a practical -journalist. The muck-raking magazines, so extolled by Mr. Ross, are -shown by Mr. Rosewater to be the merest collection of already printed -newspaper material, the periodical writer having time to put them -together in more connected form. He also shows that the Chautauqua -circuits are but the emanations of newspaper advertising; and that, if -newspapers of one party make suppressions in the interest of their -party, the newspapers of the other are ready with the antidote. -Obviously, Mr. Ross is either a newspaper subaltern, or a college -professor. In either case he is, as Mr. Rosewater shows, a visionary. - -In nothing does this betray itself so clearly as in the suggestion of -“an endowed newspaper,” which is Mr. Ross’s remedy for the evils he -enumerates. - -“Because newspapers, as a rule, prefer construction to destruction,” -says Mr. Rosewater, “they are accused by Mr. Ross of malfeasance for -selfish purposes. True, a newspaper depends for its own prosperity upon -the prosperity of the community in which it is published. The newspaper -selfishly prefers business prosperity to business adversity. A panic is -largely psychological, and the newspapers can do much to aggravate or to -mitigate its severity. There is no question that to the willful efforts -of the newspapers as a body to allay public fear and to restore business -confidence is to be credited the short duration and comparative mildness -of the last financial cataclysm. Would an endowed newspaper have acted -differently? Most people would freely commend the newspapers for what -they did to start the wheels of industry again revolving, and this is -the first time I have seen them condemned for suppressing ‘important -news’ of business calamity and industrial distress in subservience to a -worship of advertising revenue.” - -The truth of this can hardly be denied. Most fair-minded observers will -agree with Mr. Rosewater that “a few black sheep in the newspaper fold -do not make the whole flock black, nor do the combined imperfections of -all newspapers condemn them to failure”; and I cannot resist quoting -entire the admirable conclusion with which a recognized newspaper -authority disposes of a thoroughly theoretic newspaper critic. - -“Personally,” says Mr. Rosewater, “I would like to see the experiment of -an endowed newspaper tried, because I am convinced comparison would only -redound to the advantage of the newspaper privately conducted as a -commercial undertaking. The newspaper most akin to the endowed newspaper -in this country is published in the interest of the Christian Science -Church. With it, ‘important news’ is news calculated to promote the -propaganda of the faith, and close inspection of its columns would -disclose news-suppression in every issue. On the other hand, a daily -newspaper, standing on its own bottom, must have readers to make its -advertising space valuable, and without a reasonable effort to cover all -the news and command public confidence, the standing and clientage of -the paper cannot be successfully maintained. The endowed paper pictured -to us as the ideal paper, run by a board of governors filled in turn by -representatives of the various uplift societies enumerated by Professor -Ross, would blow hot and would blow cold, would have no consistent -policy or principles, would be unable to alter the prevailing notion of -what constitutes important news, and would be from the outset busily -engaged in a work of news-suppression to suit the whims of the -particular hobby-riders who happened for the moment to be in dominating -control.” - -In journalism, as in statesmanship, the doctrinaire is more confident -than the man of affairs. So, in war, the lieutenant is bolder in the -thought than the captain in the action. Often the newspaper subaltern, -distrusting his chief, calls that “mercenary” which is in reality -“discrimination.” It is a pity that there is not more of this latter in -our editorial practice. - - - IV - -Disinterestedness, unselfish devotion to the public interest, is the -soul of true journalism as of true statesmanship; and this is as likely -to proceed from the counting-room as from the editorial room; only, the -business manager must be a journalist. - -The journalism of Paris is personal, the journalism of London is -impersonal—that is to say, the one illustrates the self-exploiting, -individualized star-system, the other the more sedate and orderly, yet -not less responsible, commercial system; and it must be allowed that, in -both dignity and usefulness, the English is to be preferred to the -French journalism. It is true that English publishers are sometimes -elevated to the peerage. But this is nowise worse than French and -American editors becoming candidates for office. In either case, the -public and the press are losers in the matter of the service rendered, -because journalism and office are so antipathetic that their union must -be destructive to both. - -The upright man of business, circumspect in his everyday behavior and -jealous of his commercial honor, needs only to be educated in the -newspaper business to bring to it the characteristic virtues which shine -and prosper in the more ambitious professional and business pursuits. -The successful man in the centres of activity is usually a worldly-wise -and prepossessing person. Other things being equal, success of the -higher order inclines to those qualities of head and heart, of breeding -and education and association, which go to the making of what we call a -gentleman. The element of charm, scarcely less than the elements of -energy, integrity, and penetration, is a prime ingredient. Add breadth -and foresight, and we have the greater result of fortune and fame. - -All these essentials to preëminent manhood must be fulfilled by the -newspaper which aspires to preëminence. And there is no reason why this -may not spring from the business end, why they may not exist and -flourish there, exhaling their perfume into every department; in short, -why they may not tempt ambition. The newspapers, as Hamlet observes of -the players, are the abstracts and brief chronicles of the time. It were -indeed better to have a bad epitaph when you die than their ill report -while you live, even from those of the baser sort; how much more from a -press having the confidence and respect—and yet more than these, the -affection—of the community? Hence it is that special college training is -beginning to be thought of, and occasionally tried; and, while this is -subject to very serious disadvantage on the experimental side, its -ethical value may in the long run find some way to give it practical -application and to make it permanent as an arm of the newspaper service. -Assuredly, character is an asset, and nowhere does it pay surer and -larger dividends than in the newspaper business. - - - V - -We are passing through a period of transition. The old system of -personal journalism having gone out, and the new system of counting-room -journalism having not quite reached a full realization of itself, the -editorial function seems to have fallen into a lean and slippered state, -the matters of tone and style honored rather in the breach than in the -observance. Too many ill-trained, uneducated lads have graduated out of -the city editor’s room by sheer force of audacity and enterprise into -the more important posts. Too often the counting-room takes no -supervision of the editorial room beyond the immediate selling value of -the paper the latter turns out. Things upstairs are left at loose ends. -There are examples of opportunities lost through absentee landlordism. - -These conditions, however, are ephemeral. They will yield before the -progressive requirements of a process of popular evolution which is -steadily lifting the masses out of the slough of degeneracy and -ignorance. The dime novel has not the vogue it once had. Neither has the -party organ. Readers will not rest forever content under the impositions -of fake or colored news; of misleading headlines; of false alarums and -slovenly writing. Already they begin to discriminate, and more and -clearly they will learn to discriminate, between the meretricious and -the true. - -The competition in sensationalism, to which we owe the yellow press, as -it is called, will become a competition in cleanliness and accuracy. The -counting-room, which is next to the people and carries the purse, will -see that decency pays, that good sense and good faith are good -investments, and it will look closer to the personal character and the -moral product of the editorial room, requiring better equipment and more -elevated standards. There will never again be a Greeley, or a Raymond, -or a Dana, playing the rôle of “star” and personally exploited by -everything appearing in journals which seemed to exist mainly to glorify -them. Each was in his way a man of superior attainments. Each thought -himself an unselfish servant of the public. Yet each had his -limitations—his ambitions and prejudices, his likes and dislikes, -intensified and amplified by the habit of personalism, often -unconscious. And, this personal element eliminated, why may not the -impersonal head of the coming newspaper—proud of his profession, and -satisfied with the results of its ministration—render a yet better -account to God and the people in unselfish devotion to the common -interest? - - - - - THE PROBLEM OF THE ASSOCIATED PRESS - - BY AN OBSERVER - - - I - -The question of suppressed or tainted news has in recent years been -repeatedly agitated, and reformers of all brands have urged that the -majority of the newspapers of the country are business-tied—that they -are ruled according to the sordid ambition of the counting-house rather -than by the untrammeled play of the editorial intellect. Capitalism is -alleged to be playing ducks and drakes with the Anglo-Saxon tradition of -a free press. - -The most important instance of criticism of this kind is afforded by -current attacks upon the Associated Press. The Associated Press, as -everybody knows, is the greatest news-gathering organization in the -world; it supplies with their daily general information more than half -the population of the United States. That it should be accused, in these -times of class controversy and misunderstanding, of being a “news -trust,” and of coloring its news in the interest of capital and -reaction, is therefore an excessively grave matter. Yet in the last six -months it has been accused of both those things. So persistent has been -the assertion of certain socialists that the Associated Press colors -industrial news in the interest of the employer, that its management has -sued them for libel. That it is a trust is the contention of one of its -rivals, the Sun News Bureau of New York, whose prayer for its -dissolution under the Sherman law, as a monopoly in restraint of trade, -is now before the Department of Justice in Washington.[5] - -Footnote 5: - - This charge made by the _New York Sun_, in February, 1914, was not - sustained in an opinion given by the Attorney General of the United - States on March 17, 1915.—ED. - -To the writer, the main questions at issue, so far as the public is -concerned, seem to be as follows:— - -1. Is the business of collecting and distributing news in bulk -essentially monopolistic? 2. If it is, and if it can not be -satisfactorily performed by an unlimited number of competitive agencies -(that is, individual newspapers), is the Associated Press in theory and -practice the best type of centralized organization for the purpose? - -The first question presents little difficulty to the practical -journalist. A successful agency for the gathering of news must be -monopolistic. No newspaper is rich enough, the attention of no editor is -ubiquitous enough, to be able to collect at first hand a tithe of the -multitudinous items which a public of catholic curiosity expects to find -neatly arranged on its breakfast table. Take the large journals of New -York and Boston, with their columns of news from all parts of the United -States and the world. Their bills for telegrams and cablegrams alone -would be prohibitive of dividends, to say nothing of their bills for the -collection of the news. A public educated by a number of newspapers with -their powers of observation and instruction whetted to superlative -excellence by keen competition would no doubt be ideal; but a -journalistic Utopia of that kind is no more feasible than other Utopias. -Unlimited and unassisted competition between, say, six newspapers in the -same city or district would be about as feasible economically as -unlimited competition between six railway lines running from Boston to -New York. The need for a common service of foreign and national news -must therefore be admitted. To supply such a service, even in these days -of especially cheap telegraph and cable rates for press matter, requires -a great deal of money, and a press agency has a great deal of money to -spend only if it has also a large number of customers. - -As the number of newspapers is limited, it is clear that the press -agency has strong claims to be recognized as a public service, and to be -classed with railways, telephones, telegraphs, waterworks, and many -other forms of corporate venture which even the wildest radical admits -cannot be subjected to the anarchy of unrestricted competition. Thus the -simple charge that the Associated Press is a monopoly cannot be held to -condemn it. But, to invert Mr. Roosevelt’s famous phrase, there are bad -trusts as well as good trusts. That the Associated Press is powerful -enough to be a bad trust if those who control it so desire must be -admitted offhand. It is a tremendously effective organization. Its -service is supplied to more than 850 of the leading newspapers, with a -total circulation of, probably, about 20,000,000 copies a day. - -The Associated Press is the child of the first effort at coöperative -news-gathering ever made. Back in the forties of the last century, -before the Atlantic cable was laid, newspapers began to spend ruinous -sums in getting the earliest news from Europe. Those were the days in -which the first ship-news dispatch-boats were launched to meet vessels -as they entered New York harbor, and to race back with the news to their -respective offices. The competition grew to the extent even of sending -fast boats all the way to Europe, and soon became extravagant enough to -cause its collapse. Then seven New York newspapers organized a joint -service. This service, which was meant primarily to cover European news, -grew slowly to cover the United States. Newspapers in other cities were -taken into it on a reciprocal basis. The news of the Association was -supplied at that time in return for a certain sum, the newspapers -undertaking on their part to act as the local correspondents of the -Association. A reciprocal arrangement with Reuter’s, the great European -agency, followed, whereby it supplied the Associated Press with its -foreign service, and the Associated Press gave to Reuter’s the use of -its American service. - -Even so, the Associated Press did not carry all before it. In the -seventies a number of Western newspapers formed the Western Associated -Press. A period of sharp competition followed, but in 1882 the two -associations signed a treaty of partnership for ten years. They were not -long in supreme control of the field, however. The Associated Press of -those days, like its successor to-day, was a close corporation in the -sense that its members could and did veto the inclusion of rivals. As -the West grew, new newspapers sprang up and were kept in the cold by -their established rivals. The result was the United Press, which soon -worked up an effective service. The Associated Press tried to cripple it -by a rule that no newspaper subscribing to its service should have -access to the news of the Associated Press; but in spite of the rule the -United Press waxed strong and might have become a really formidable -competitor had not the Associated Press been able to buy a controlling -share in it. A harmonious business agreement followed; but in accordance -with the business methods of those days the public was not apprized of -the agreement, and when, in 1892, its existence became known, there was -a row and a readjustment. The United Press absorbed the old Associated -Press of New York, and the Western Associated Press again became -independent. Reuter’s agency continued to supply both associations with -its European service. - -But the ensuing period of competition did not last. Three years later, -the Western Associated Press achieved a monopolistic agreement with -Reuter’s, carried the war into the United Press territory,—the South and -the country east of the Alleghanies,—got a number of New York newspapers -to join it, and effected a national organization. - - - II - -That national organization is, to all intents and purposes, the -Associated Press of to-day. The only really important change has been in -its transference as a company from the jurisdiction of Illinois to that -of New York. This change was accomplished in 1900, owing to an adverse -judgment of the Supreme Court of Illinois. To grasp the significance of -that judgment, and indeed the current agitation against the Associated -Press, it is necessary to sketch briefly its rules and methods. - -The Associated Press is not a commercial company in the sense that it is -a dividend-hunting concern. Under the terms of its present charter, the -corporation “is not to make a profit or to make or declare dividends and -is not to engage in the selling of intelligence or traffic in the same.” -It is simply meant to be the common agent of a number of subscribing -newspapers, for the interchange of news which each collects in its own -district, and for the collection of news such as subscribers cannot -collect singlehanded: that is, foreign news and news concerning certain -classes of domestic happenings. Its board of directors consists of -journalists and publishers connected with subscribing newspapers, who -serve without payment. Its executive work is done by a salaried general -manager and his assistants. It is financed on a basis of weekly -assessments levied, according to their size and custom, upon newspapers -which are members. The sum thus collected comes to about $3,000,000 a -year. It is spent partly for the hire of special wires from the -telegraph companies, and partly for the maintenance of special -news-collecting staffs. The mileage of leased wires is immense, -amounting to about 22,000 miles by day and 28,000 miles by night. Nor -does the organization, as some of its critics seem to imagine, get any -special privileges from the telegraph companies. Such privileges -belonged to its early history, when business standards were lower than -they are now. - -The Associated Press has at least one member in every city of any size -in the country. That in itself insures it a good news-service; but, as -indicated above, it has in all important centres a bureau of its own. -Important events, whether fixed, like national conventions, or -fortuitous, like strikes or floods or shipwrecks, it covers more -comprehensively than any single newspaper can do. Its foreign service is -ubiquitous. It no longer depends upon its arrangement with Reuter’s, and -other foreign news-agencies: early in the present century the -intelligence thus collected was found to lack the American point of -view, and an extensive foreign service was formed, with local -headquarters in London, Paris, and other European capitals, Peking, -Tokyo, Mexico, and Havana, and with scores of correspondents all over -the world. - -Enough has been said to show that its efficiency and the manner of its -organization combine to give the Associated Press a distinct savor of -monopoly. As the Sun News Bureau and other rivals have found, it cannot -be effectively competed against. Too many of the richest and most -powerful newspapers belong to it. - -Is it a harmful monopoly? Its critics, as explained above, are busy -proving that it is. They urge that, being a close corporation, it -stifles trade in the selling of news, and that it is not impartial. - -The first argument is based upon the following facts. Membership in the -Associated Press is naturally valuable. An Associated Press franchise to -a newspaper in New York or Chicago is worth from $50,000 to $200,000.[6] -To share such a privilege is not in human or commercial nature. One of -the first rules of the organization is, therefore, that no new newspaper -can be admitted without the consent of members within competitive -radius. Naturally, that assent is seldom given. This “power of protest” -has not been kept without a struggle. The law-suit of 1900 was due to -it. The _Chicago Inter-Ocean_ was refused admission,[7] and went to law. -The case went to the Supreme Court of Illinois, which ruled that a press -agency like the Associated Press was in the nature of a public service -and as such ought to be open to everybody. To have yielded to the -judgment would have smashed the Associated Press, so it reorganized -under the laws of New York, with the moral satisfaction of knowing that -the courts of Missouri had upheld what the Illinois court had condemned. -Its new constitution, which is that of to-day, keeps in effect the right -of protest, the only difference being that a disappointed applicant for -membership gets the not very useful consolation of being able to appeal -to the association in the slender hope that four-fifths of the members -will vote for his admission. - -Footnote 6: - - In the appraisal of the estate of Joseph Pulitzer in 1914, the two - Associated Press franchises held by the _New York World_, one for the - morning and one for the evening edition, were valued at $240,000 - each.—ED. - -Footnote 7: - - This is an error which is corrected in Mr. Stone’s reply, cf. p. 124. - -The practical working of the rule has undoubtedly been monopolistic; not -so much because it has rendered the Associated Press a monopoly, but -because it has rendered it the mother, potential and sometimes actual, -of countless small monopolies. On account of the size of the United -States and the diverse interests of the various sections, there is in -our country no daily press with a national circulation. Newspapers -depend primarily upon their local constituencies. In each journalistic -geographic unit, if the expression may be allowed, one or more -newspapers possess the Associated Press franchise. Such newspapers have -in the excellent and comparatively cheap Associated Press service an -instrument for monopoly hardly less valuable than a rebate-giving -railway may be to a commercial corporation. It is also alleged by some -of its enemies that the Associated Press still at times enjoins its -members against taking simultaneously the service of its rival. - -It is easy to argue that, because the Associated Press is a close -corporation, it cannot be a monopoly, and that those who are really -trying to make a “news trust” of it are they who insist that it ought to -be open to all comers; but in practice the argument is a good deal of a -quibble. The facts remain that, as shown above, an effective news-agency -has to be tremendously rich; that to be tremendously rich it has to have -prosperous constituents; and that the large majority of prosperous -newspapers of the country belong to the Associated Press. In the -writer’s opinion it would be virtually impossible, as things stand, for -any of the Associated Press’s rivals to become the Associated Press’s -equal, upon either a commercial or a coöperative basis. - - - III - -The tremendous importance of the question of the fairness of the -Associated Press service is now apparent. If it is deliberately tainted, -as the socialists and radicals aver, there is virtually no free press in -the country. The question is a very delicate one. Enemies of the -Associated Press assert in brief that its stories about industrial -troubles are colored in the interest of the employer; that its political -news shows a similar bias in favor of the plutocratic party, whatever -that may be; that, in fact, it is used as a class organ. In the -Presidential campaign of 1912, Mr. Roosevelt’s followers insisted that -the doings of their candidates were blanketed. In the recent labor -troubles [1914] in West Virginia, Michigan, and Colorado, the friends of -labor have made the same complaint of one-sidedness in the interest of -the employer. - -Not only do the directors of the Associated Press deny all insinuations -of unfairness, but they argue that partisanship, and especially -political partisanship, would be impossible in view of the multitudinous -shades of political opinion represented by their constituents. They can -also adduce with justice the fact that in nearly every campaign more -than one political manager has accused them of favoritism, only to -retract when the heat of the campaign was over. The charge of industrial -and social partisanship they meet with a point-blank denial. It is -impossible in the space of this paper to sift the evidence pro and con. -Pending action by the courts the only safe thing to do is to look at the -question in terms of tendencies rather than of facts. - -The Associated Press, it has been shown, tends to be a monopoly. Does it -tend to be a one-sided monopoly? The writer believes that it does. He -believes that it may fairly be said that the Associated Press as a -corporation is inclined to see things through conservative spectacles, -and that its correspondents, despite the very high average of their -fairness, tend to do the same thing. It could hardly be otherwise, -although it is possible that there is nothing deliberate in the -tendency. Nearly all the subscribers to the Associated Press are the -most respectable and successful newspaper publishers in their -neighborhoods. They belong to that part of the community which has a -stake in the settled order of things; their managers are business men -among business men; they have relations with the local magnates of -finance and commerce: naturally, whatever their political views may be -(and the majority of the powerful organs of the country are -conservative), their aggregate influence tends to be on the side of -conservatism. - -The tendency, too, is enhanced by the articles under which the -Associated Press is incorporated. There is special provision against -fault-finding on the part of members. The corporation is given the right -to expel a member “for any conduct on his part or the part of any one in -his employ or connected with his newspaper, which in its absolute -discretion it shall deem of such a character as to be prejudicial to the -interest and welfare of the corporation and its members, or to justify -such expulsion. The action of the members of the corporation in such -regard shall be final, and there shall be no right of appeal or review -of such action.” The Associated Press rightly prides itself upon the -standing of its correspondents. The majority of them are drawn from the -ranks of the matter-of-fact respectable. In the nature of their calling, -they are not likely to be economists or theoretical politicians. In the -case of a strike, for instance, their instinct might well be to go to -the employer or the employer’s lieutenant for news rather than to the -strike-leader. - -Whether the Associated Press is a monopoly within the meaning of the -anti-trust law, whether it actually colors news as the socialists aver, -must be left to the courts to decide. The point to be noticed here is -that it might color news if it wanted to, and that it does exercise -certain monopolistic functions. That in itself is a dangerous state of -affairs: but it seems to be one that might be rectified. The Illinois -Supreme Court has pointed the way. The news-agency is essentially -monopolistic. It has much in common with the ordinary public-utility -monopoly. It should therefore be treated like a public-utility -corporation. It should be subject to government regulation and -supervision, and its service should be open to all customers. Were this -done, the Associated Press would be altered but not destroyed. Its -useful features would surely remain and its drawbacks as surely be -lessened. The right of protest would be entirely swept away; membership -would be unlimited; the threat of expulsion for fault-finding would be -automatically removed from above the heads of members; all newspapers of -all shades would be free to apply the corrective of criticism; and if -its news were none the less unfair, some arrangement could presumably be -made for government restraint. - -The Press Association of England is an unlimited coöperative concern. -Any newspaper can subscribe to it, and new subscribers are welcome. -Especially in the provincial field, it is as powerful a factor in -British journalism as the Associated Press is in the journalism of the -United States, yet its very openness has saved it from the taint of -partiality. To organize the Associated Press on the same lines would, of -course, entail hardship to its present constituents. They would be -exposed to fierce local competition. The value of their franchises would -dwindle. Such rival agencies as exist might be ruined, for they could -hardly compete with the Associated Press in the open market. But it is -difficult to see how American journalism would suffer from a regulated -monopoly of that kind; and the public would certainly be benefited, for -it would continue to enjoy the excellent service of the Associated -Press, with its invaluable foreign telegrams and its comprehensive -domestic news; it would be safeguarded to no small extent from the -danger of local or national news-monopolies and from insidiously tainted -news. - -Such a reform, if reform there has to be, would, in a word, be -constructive. The alternatives to it, as the writer understands the -situation, would be destructive and empirical. The organization of the -Associated Press would either be cut to pieces or destroyed. There would -thus be a chaos of ineffective competition among either coöperative or -commercial press agencies. Equal competition among a number of -coöperative associations would, for reasons already explained, mean -comparatively ineffective and weak services. Competition among -commercial agencies would have even less to recommend it. The latter -must by their nature be more susceptible to special influences than the -coöperative agency. They are controlled by a few business men, not by -their customers. Competing commercial agencies would almost inevitably -come to represent competing influences in public life; while, if worse -came to worst, a commercialized “news trust” would clearly be more -dangerous than a coöperative news trust. The great reactionary -influences of business would have freer play upon its directors than -they can have upon the directors of an organization like the Associated -Press. If it be decided that even the Associated Press is not immune -from such influences, the public should, the writer believes, think -twice before demanding its destruction, instead of its alteration to -conform with the modern conception of the public-service corporation. - - - - - THE ASSOCIATED PRESS: A REPLY - - BY MELVILLE E. STONE - - [_A letter to the Editor of the Atlantic Monthly, dated August 1, - 1914._] - - -An article under the title, “The Problem of The Associated Press,” -appeared in the July issue of the Atlantic. It was anonymous and may be -without claim to regard. It is marred by several mistakes of fact. Some -of them are inexcusable: the truth might so easily have been learned. -Nevertheless it is desirable that everybody should know all about the -Associated Press, whether it is an unlawful and dangerous monopoly, or -whether it is in the business of circulating “tainted news.” Its -telegrams are published in full or in abbreviated form, in nearly 900 -daily newspapers having an aggregate circulation of many millions of -copies. Upon the accuracy of these news dispatches, one half of the -people of the United States depend for the conduct of their various -enterprises, as well as for the facts upon which to base their opinions -of the activities of the world. With a self-governing nation, it is all -important that such an agency as the Associated Press furnish as nearly -as may be the truth. To mislead is an act of treason. - -The writer’s history is at fault. For instance, the former Associated -Press never bought a controlling share of the old-time United Press, as -he alleges. Nor did the _Chicago Inter-Ocean_ go to law because it was -refused admission. It was a charter member; it admittedly violated a -by-law, discipline was administered and against this discipline the law -was invoked, and a decision adverse to the then existing Associated -Press resulted. The assertion that a “franchise to a newspaper in New -York or Chicago is worth from $50,000 to $200,000,” will amuse thousands -of people who know that five morning Associated Press newspapers of -Chicago, the _Chronicle_, the _Record_, the _Times_, the _Freie Presse_, -and the _Inter-Ocean_, have ceased publication in the somewhat recent -past, and their owners have not received a penny for their so-called -“franchises.” The _Boston Traveler_ and _Evening Journal_ were absorbed -and their memberships thrown away. The _Christian Science Monitor_ -voluntarily gave up its membership and took another service which it -preferred. The _Hartford Post_, _Bridgeport Post_, _New Haven Union_, -and _Schenectady Union_ did the same. Cases where Associated Press -papers have ceased publication have not been infrequent. Witness the -_Worcester Spy_, _St. Paul Globe_, _Minneapolis Times_, _Denver -Republican_, _San Francisco Call_, _New Orleans Picayune_, _Indianapolis -Sentinel_, and _Philadelphia Times_, as well as many others. - -The statement that the Press Association of England is an unlimited -coöperative organization betrays incomplete information. Instead, it is -a share company with an issued capital of £49,440 sterling. On this -capital, in 1913, it made £3,708. 9. 10, or nearly eight per cent. And -it had in its treasury at the end of that year a surplus of £23,281. 19. -6, or a sum nearly equal to fifty per cent. of its capitalization. It -sells news to newspapers, clubs, hotels, and newsrooms. It is not, as is -the Associated Press, a clearing-house for the exchange of news. It -gathers all its information by its own employees and sells it outright. -Finally, it does not serve all applicants, but declines, as it always -has, to furnish its news to the London papers. - -But there is a more important matter. It is said that the business of -collecting and distributing news is essentially monopolistic. But how -can this be? The field is an open one. A single reporter may enter it, -and so may an association of reporters. The business in any case may be -confined to the news of a city or it may be extended to include a state, -a nation, or the world. The material facilities for the transmission of -news, so far as they are of a public or quasi-public nature, the mail or -the telegraph, are open to the use of all on the same terms. The -subject-matter of news, events of general interest, are not property and -cannot be appropriated. The element of property exists only in the story -of the event which the reporter makes and the diligence which he uses to -bring it to the place of publication. This element of property is simply -the right of the reporter to the fruit of his own labor. - -The “Recessional” was a report of the Queen’s Jubilee. It was made by -Rudyard Kipling and was his property for that reason, to be disposed of -by him as he thought proper. He might have copyrighted it and reserved -to himself the exclusive right of publication during the period of the -copyright. He chose rather to use his common-law right of first -publication and he did this by selling it to the _London Times_. He was -not under obligation, moral or legal, to sell it at the same time to any -other publisher. - -Every other reporter stands upon the same footing and, as the author of -his story, is, by every principle of law and equity, entitled to a -monopoly of his manuscript until he voluntarily assigns it or surrenders -it to the public. He does not monopolize the news. He cannot do that, -for real news is as woman’s wit, of which Rosalind said, “Make the doors -upon [it] and it will out at the casement; shut that and ’twill out at -the keyhole; stop that, ’twill fly with the smoke out at the chimney.” -The reporter as a mere laborer, engaged in personal service, is simply -free from compulsion to give or sell his labor to one seeking it. Such -is the state of the law to-day. - -And the English courts go further and uniformly hold that news telegrams -may not be pirated, even after publication. In a dozen British colonies -statutory protection of such despatches is given for varying periods. In -this country there have been a number of decisions looking to the same -end. The output of the Associated Press is not the news; it is a story -of the news, written by reporters employed to serve the membership. The -organization issues no newspaper; it prints nothing. As a reporter, it -brings its copy to the editor, who is free to print it, abbreviate it, -or throw it away. And to this reporter’s work, the reporter and the -members employing him have, by law and morals, undeniably an exclusive -right. - -The next question involves the integrity of the Associated Press -service. The cases of alleged bias he cites are unfortunate. Any claim -that the doings of the Progressives in 1912 were “blanketed” by the -Associated Press is certainly unwarranted. Our records show that the -organization reported more than three times as many words concerning the -activities of the Progressives as it did concerning those of all their -opponents combined. There were reasons for this. It was a new party in -the field, and naturally awakened unusual interest. But also, it should -be said that Colonel Roosevelt has expert knowledge of newspaper -methods. He understands the value of preparing his speeches in advance -and furnishing them in time to enable the Associated Press to send them -to its members by mail. They are put in type in the newspaper offices -leisurely and the proofs are carefully read. When one of his speeches is -delivered, a word or two by telegraph “releases” it, and a full and -accurate publication of his views results. While he was President he -often gave us his messages a month in advance; they were mailed to -Europe and to the Far East, and appeared in the papers abroad the -morning after their delivery to Congress. Before he went to Africa, the -speeches he delivered a year later at Oxford and in Paris were prepared, -put in type, proof-read, and laid away for use when required. This is -not an unusual or an unwise practice. It assures a speaker wide -publicity and saves him the annoyance of faulty reporting. Neither Mr. -Wilson nor Mr. Taft was able to do this, although frequently urged to do -so. They spoke extemporaneously, often late in the evening, and under -conditions which made it physically impossible to make a satisfactory -report, or to transmit it by wire broadcast over the country. - -As to the West Virginia coal strike: a magazine charged that the -Associated Press had suppressed the facts and that as a consequence no -one knew there had been trouble. The authors were indicted for libel. -One witness only has yet been heard. He was called by the defense, and -in the taking of his deposition it was disclosed that at the date of the -publication over 93,000 words had been delivered by the Associated Press -to the New York papers. Something like 60 columns respecting the matter -had been printed. - -However, “The point to be noticed,” says your writer, “is that it [the -Associated Press] might color news if it wanted to, and that it does -exercise certain monopolistic functions. That in itself is a dangerous -state of affairs; but it seems to be one that might be rectified.” And, -as a remedy, he proposes that “its service should be open to all -customers.” This is most interesting. If the news-service is -untrustworthy, it would naturally seem plain that the activities of the -agency should be restricted, not extended. Instead of enlarging its -field of operations, there should be, if possible, a law forbidding it -to take in any new members, or, indeed, summarily putting it out of -business. If the Associated Press is corrupt, it is too large now, and -no other newspaper should be subjected to its baleful influence. - -Your critic adds that then, “if its news were none the less unfair, some -arrangement could presumably be made for government restraint.” Since -the battle against government control of the press was fought nearly two -centuries ago, it seems scarcely worth while to waste much effort over -this suggestion. Censorship by the king’s agents was the finest flower -of mediæval tyranny. It is hard to believe that anyone, in this hour, -should suggest a return to it. - -Under the closely censored method of this coöperative organization, -notwithstanding the wide range of its operations, and although its -service has included millions of words every month, it is proper to say -that there has never been a trial for libel, nor have the expenses in -connection with libel suits exceeded a thousand dollars in the -aggregate. This should be accepted as some evidence of the standard of -accuracy maintained. - -As to the refusal of the Associated Press to admit to membership every -applicant, the suggestion is made that this puts such a limit on the -number of newspapers as to “stifle trade in the selling of news.” Thus, -says your critic, the Association is “the mother, potential and -sometimes actual, of countless small monopolies.” In reply, it may be -said that we are in no danger of a dearth of newspapers. There are more -news journals in the United States than in all the world beside. If the -whole foreign world were divided into nations of the size of this -country, each nation would have but 80 daily newspapers, while we have -over 2,400. And as to circulation, we issue a copy of a daily paper for -every three of our citizens who can read and are over ten years of age. -With our methods of rapid transportation, hundreds of daily papers might -be discontinued, and still leave every citizen able to have his morning -paper delivered at his breakfast table. Every morning paper between New -York and Chicago might be suppressed, and yet, by the fast mail trains, -papers from the two terminal cities could be delivered so promptly that -no one in the intervening area would be left without the current world’s -news. Every angle of every fad, or _ism_, outside the walls of Bedlam, -finds an advocate with the largest freedom of expression. Our need is -not for more papers, but for better papers—papers issuing truthful news -and with clearer sense of perspective as to news. - -Entirely independent of the Associated Press, or any influence it might -have upon the situation, there has been a noticeable shrinkage in the -number of important newspapers in the recent past. One reason has been -the lack of demand by the public for the old-time partisan journal. -Instead, the very proper requirement has been for papers furnishing the -news impartially, and communities therefore no longer divide, as -formerly, on political lines in their choice of newspapers. The -increased cost of white paper and of labor has also had an effect. - -Since there are some 500 or more daily newspapers getting on very well -without the advantage of the Associated Press “franchises,” it can -hardly be said that we have reached a stage where this service is -indispensable. This is strikingly true in the light of the fact that in -a number of cities the papers making the largest profits are those that -have not, nor have ever had, membership in the Associated Press. - -It will be agreed at once that private right must ever give way to -public good. If it can be shown that, as contended, the national welfare -requires that those who, without any advantage over their fellow -editors, have built up an efficient coöperative news-gathering agency, -must share the accumulated value of the good-will they have achieved, -with those who have been less energetic, we may have to give heed to the -claim. Such a contention, so persistently urged as it has been, is -certainly flattering to the membership and management of the Associated -Press. - -But, however agreeable it always is to divide up other people’s -property, before settling the matter there are some things to think of. -First, it must be the public good that forces this invasion of private -right, not the desire of someone who, with an itch to start a newspaper, -feels that he would prefer the Associated Press service. Second, the -practical effect of a rule such as was laid down by the Illinois Supreme -Court, requiring the organization to render service to all applicants, -must be carefully considered. News is not a commodity of the nature of -coal, or wood. It is incorporeal. It does not pass from seller to buyer -in the way ordinary commodities do. Although the buyer receives it, the -seller does not cease to possess it. In order to make a news-gathering -agency possible, it has been found necessary to limit, by stringent -rules, the use of the service by the member. Thus each member of the -Associated Press is prohibited from making any use of the dispatches -furnished him, other than to publish them in his newspaper. If such a -restriction were not imposed, any member, on receipt of his news -service, might at once set up an agency of his own and put an end to the -general organization. This rule, as well as all disciplinary measures, -would disappear under the plan proposed by the critic in the _Atlantic_. -A buyer might be expelled, but to-morrow he could demand readmission. -There would in practice no longer be members with a right of censorship -over the management; instead, there would be one seller and an unlimited -number of buyers. Then, indeed, there would be a monopoly of the worst -sort. And government censorship, with all of its attendant and long -since admitted evils, would follow. Under a Republican administration, -we should have a Republican censor; under a Democratic administration, a -Democratic censor. And a free press would no longer exist. - -Absolute journalistic inerrancy is not possible. But we are much nearer -it to-day than ever before. And it is toward approximate inerrancy in -its despatches that the Associated Press is striving. If in its method -of organization, or in its manner of administration, it is violating any -law, or is making for evil, then it should be punished, or suppressed. -If any better method for securing an honest, impartial news service can -be devised, by all means let us have it. But that the plan proposed -would better the situation, is clearly open to doubt. - - - - - CONFESSIONS OF A PROVINCIAL EDITOR - - BY PARACELSUS - - -There is something at once deliciously humorous and pathetic, to the -editor of a small daily in the provinces, about that old-fashioned -phrase, “the liberty of the press.” It is another one of those matters -lying so near the marge-land of what is mirthful and what is sad that a -tilt of the mood may slip it into either. To the general, doubtless, it -is a truth so obvious that it is never questioned, a bequest from our -forefathers that has paid no inheritance tax to time. In all the host of -things insidiously un-American which have crept into our life, thank -Heaven! say these unconscious Pharisees, the “press,” if somewhat -freakish, has remained free. So it is served up as a toast at banquets, -garnished with florid rhetoric; it is still heard from old-fashioned -pulpits; it cannot die, even though the conditions which made the phrase -possible have passed away. - -The pooh-poohing of the elders, the scoffing of the experienced, has -little effect upon a boy’s mind when it tries to do away with so -palpable a truth as that concerning the inability of a chopped-up snake -to die until sunset, or that matter-of-fact verity that devil’s darning -needles have little aim in life save to sew up the ears of youths and -maidens. So with that glib old fantasy, “America’s free and untrammeled -press”: it needs a vast deal of argument to convince an older public -that, as a matter to be accepted without a question, it has no right to -exist. The conditioning clause was tacked on some years ago, doubtless -when the old-time weekly began to expand into the modern small daily. -The weekly was a periodic pamphlet; the daily disdained its inheritance, -and subordinated the expression of opinion to the printing of those -matters from which opinion is made. The cost of equipment of a daily -newspaper, compared to the old-fashioned weekly, as a general thing -makes necessary for the launching of such a venture a well-organized -stock company, and in this lies much of the trouble. - -Confessions imply previous wrong-doing. Mine, while they are personal -enough, are really more interesting because of the vast number of others -they incriminate. If two editors from lesser cities do not laugh in each -other’s faces, after the example of Cicero’s augurs, it is because they -are more modern, and choose to laugh behind each other’s backs. So, in -turning state’s evidence, I feel less a coward than a reformer. - -What circumstance has led me to believe concerning the newspaper -situation in a hundred and one small cities of this country is so -startling in its unexplained brevity, that I scarce dare parade it as a -prelude to my confessions. So much of my experience is predicated upon -it that I do not dare save it for a peroration. Here it is, then, -somewhat more than half-truth, somewhat less than the truth itself: “A -newspaper in a small city is not a legitimate business enterprise.” That -seems bold and bare enough to stamp me as sensational, does it not? -Hear, then, the story of my _Herald_, knowing that it is the story of -other Heralds. The _Herald’s_ story is mine, and my story, I dare say, -is that of many others. To the facts, then. I speak with authority, -being one of the scribes. - - - I - -I chose newspaper work in my native city, Pittsburg, mainly because I -liked to write. I went into it after my high-school days, spent a six -months’ apprenticeship on a well-known paper, left it for another, and -in five years’ hard work had risen from the reportorial ranks to that of -a subordinate editorial writer—a dubious rise. Hard work had not -threshed out ambition: the few grains left sprouted. The death of an -uncle and an unexpected legacy fructified my desire. I became zealous to -preach crusades; to stamp my own individuality, my own ideals, upon the -“people”; in short, to own and run a newspaper. It was a buxom fancy, a -day-dream of many another like myself. A rapid rise had obtained for me -the summit of reasonable expectation in the matter of salary; but I then -thought, as indeed I do still, that the sum in one’s envelope o’ Mondays -is no criterion of success. Personal ambition to “mould opinion,” as the -quaint untruth has it, as well as the commercial side of owning a -newspaper, made me look about over a wide field, seeking a city which -really needed a new newspaper. The work was to be in a chosen field, and -to be one’s own taskmaster is worth more than salary. As I prospected, I -saw no possible end to the venture save that of every expectation -fulfilled. - -I found a goodly town (of course I cannot name it) that was neither all -future nor all past; a growing place, believed in by capitalists and -real-estate men. It was well railroaded, in the coal fields, near to -waterways and to glory. It was developing itself and being developed by -outside capital. It had a newspaper, a well-established affair, whose -old equipment I laughed at. It needed a new one. My opening was found. -The city would grow; I would grow up with it. The promise of six years -ago has been in part fulfilled. I have no reason to regret my choosing -the city I did. - -I went back to Pittsburg, consulted various of the great, obtained -letters to prominent men high in the political faith I intended to -follow, went back to my town armed with the letters, and talked it over. -They had been considering the matter of a daily paper there to represent -their faith and themselves, and after much dickering a company was -formed. I found I could buy the weekly _Herald_, a nice property whose -“good will” was worth having. Its owner was not over-anxious to sell, so -drove a good bargain. As a weekly the paper for forty-three years had -been gospel to many; I would make it daily gospel to more. In giving -$5,500 for it I knew I was paying well, but it had a great name and a -wide circulation. - -I saw no necessity of beginning on a small scale. People are not dazzled -in this way. I wanted a press that folk would come in and see run, and -as my rival had no linotypes, that was all the more reason why I should -have two. Expensive equipments are necessary for newspapers when they -intend to do great works and the public is eager to see what is going to -happen. All this took money, more money than I had thought it would. -But, talking the matter over with my new friends and future associates, -I convinced them that any economy was false economy at the start. But -when I started I found that I owned but forty per cent of the Herald -Publishing Company’s stock. I was too big with the future to care. The -sixty per cent was represented by various politicians. That was six -years ago. - -It does not do in America, much less in the _Atlantic_, to be morosely -pessimistic. At most one can be regretful. And yet why should I be -regretful? You have seen me settle in my thriving city; see me now. I -have my own home, a place of honor in the community, the company of the -great. You see me married, with enough to live on, enough to entertain -with, enough to afford a bit of travel now and then. I still “run” the -_Herald_: it pays me my own salary (my stockholders have never -interfered with the business management of the paper), and were I -insistent, I might have a consular position of importance, should the -particular set of politicians I uphold (my “gang,” as my rival the -_Bulletin_ says) revert to power. There is food in my larder, there are -flowers in my garden. I carry enough insurance to enable my small family -to do without me and laugh at starvation. I am but thirty-four years -old. In short, I have a competence in a goodly little city. Why should I -not rejoice with Stevenson that I have “some rags of honor left,” and go -about in middle age with my head high? Who of my schoolmates has done -better? - -Is it nothing, then, to see hope dwindle and die away? My regret is not -pecuniary: it is old-fashionedly moral. Where are those high ideals with -which I set about this business? I dare not look them in their waxen -faces. I have acquired immunity from starvation by selling underhandedly -what I had no right to sell. Some may think me the better American. But -P. T. Barnum’s dictum about the innate love Americans have for a hoax is -really a serious matter, when the truth is told. Mr. Barnum did not -leave a name and a fortune because he befooled the public. If now and -then he gave them Cardiff giants and white elephants, he also gave them -a brave display in three crowded rings. I have dealt almost exclusively -with the Cardiff giants. - -My regret is, then, a moral one. I bought something the nature of which -did not dawn upon me until late; I felt environment adapt me to it -little by little. The process was gradual, but I have not the excuse -that it was unconscious. There is the sting in the matter. I can -scarcely plead ignorance. - -Somewhere in a scrapbook, even now beginning to yellow, I have pasted, -that it may not escape me (as if it could!), my first editorial -announcing to the good world my intent with the _Herald_. Let me quote -from the mocking, double-leaded thing. I know the words. I know even now -the high hope which gave them birth. I know how enchanting the vista was -unfolding into the future. I can see how stern my boyish face was, how -warm my blood. With a blare of trumpets I announced my mission. With a -mustering day of the good old stock phrases used on such occasions I -marshaled my metaphors. In making my bow, gravely and earnestly, I said, -among other things:— - -“Without fear or favor, serving only the public, the _Herald_ will be at -all times an intelligent medium of news and opinions for an intelligent -community. Bowing the knee to no clique or faction, keeping in mind the -great imperishable standards of American manhood, the noble traditions -upon which the framework of our country is grounded, the _Herald_ will -champion, not the weak, not the strong, but the right. It will spare no -expense in gathering news, and it will give all the news all of the -time. It will so guide its course that only the higher interests of the -city are served, and will be absolutely fearless. Independent in -politics, it will freely criticise when occasion demands. By its -adherence to these principles may it stand or fall.” - -But why quote more? You have all read them, though I doubt if you have -read one more sincere. I felt myself a force, the _Herald_ the -expression of a force; an entity, the servant of other forces. My paper -was to be all that other papers were not. My imagination carried me to -sublime heights. This was six years ago. - - - II - -Events put a check on my runaway ambition in forty-eight hours. The head -of the biggest clothing house, and the largest advertiser in the city, -called on me. I received him magnificently in my new office, motioning -him to take a chair. I can see him yet—stout, prosperous, and to the -point. As he talked, he toyed with a great seal that hung from a huge -hawser-like watch-chain. - -“Say,” said he, refusing my chair, “just keep out a little item you may -get hold of to-day.” His manner was the same with me as with a salesman -in his “gents’” underclothing department. - -“Concerning?” I asked pleasantly. - -“Oh, there’s a friend of mine got arrested to-day. Some farmer had him -took in for fraud or something. He’ll make good, I guess; I know, in -fact. He ain’t a bad fellow, and it would hurt him if this got printed.” - -I asked him for particulars; saw a reporter who had the story; learned -that the man was a sharp-dealer with a bad reputation, who had been -detected in an attempt to cheat a poor farmer out of $260—a bare-faced -fraud indeed. I learned that the man had long been suspected by public -opinion of semi-legal attempts to rob the “widow and the orphan,” and -that at last there was a chance of “showing him up.” I went back with a -bold face. - -“I find, though the case has not been tried, that the man is undoubtedly -guilty.” - -“Guilty?” said my advertiser. “What of that? He’ll settle.” - -“That hardly lessens the guilt.” I smiled. - -The clothing man looked astounded. “But if you print that he’ll be -ruined,” he sputtered. - -“From all I can learn, so much the better,” I answered. - -Then my man swore. “See here,” he said, when he got back to written -language. “He’s just making his living; you ain’t got no right to stop a -man’s earning his living. It ain’t none of any newspaper’s business. -Just a private affair between him and the farmer, and he’ll settle.” - -“I don’t see how,” I put in somewhat warmly, “it isn’t the business of a -newspaper to tell its public of a dangerous man, arrested for fraud, -caught in his own net so badly that he is willing to settle, as you -claim. It is my obvious duty to my constituents to print such a case. -From the news point of view—” I was going on smoothly, but he stepped up -and shook his fist in my face. - -“Constituents? Ain’t I a constituent? Don’t I pay your newspaper for -more advertising than any one else? Ain’t I your biggest constituent? -Say, young man, you’re too big for this town. Don’t try to bully me!” he -suddenly screamed. “Don’t you dare bully me! Don’t you dare try it. I -see what you want. You’re trying to blackmail me, you are; you’re trying -to work me for more advertising; you want money out of me. That game -don’t go; not with me it don’t. I’ll have you arrested.” - -And he talked as though he believed it! - -Then he said he’d never pay me another cent, might all manner of things -happen to his soul if he did. He’d go to the _Bulletin_, and double his -space. The man was his friend, and he had asked but a reasonable -request, and I had tried to blackmail him. He worked that blackmail in -every other sentence. Then he strode out, slamming the door. - -The “little item” was not printed in the _Herald_ (nor in the -_Bulletin_, more used to such requests), and, as he had said, he was my -biggest advertiser. It was my first experience with the advertiser with -a request: for this reason I have given the incident fully. It recurred -every week. I grew to think little of it soon. “Think of how his -children will feel,” say the friends of some one temporarily lodged in -the police station. “Think of what the children of some one this man -will swindle next will say,” is what I might answer. But I don’t,—not if -an advertiser requests otherwise. As I have grown to phrase the matter, -a newspaper is a contrivance which meets its pay-roll by selling space -to advertisers: render it therefore agreeable to those who make its -existence possible. Less jesuitically it may be put—the ultimate editor -of a small newspaper is the advertiser, the biggest advertiser is the -politician. This is a maxim that experience has ground with its heel -into the fabric of my soul. - -We all remember Emerson’s brilliantly un-New-England advice, “Hitch your -wagon to a star.” This saying is of no value to newspapers, for they -find stars poor motive power. Theoretically, it must be granted that -newspapers, of all business ventures, should properly be hitched to a -star. Yet I have found that, if any hitching is to be done, it must be -to the successful politician. Amending Mr. Emerson, I have found it the -best rule to “yoke your newspaper to the politician in power.” - -This, then, is what a small newspaper does: sells its space to the -advertiser, its policy to the politician. It is smooth sailing save when -these two forces conflict, and then Scylla and Charybdis were joys to -the heart. Let us look into the advertiser part of the business a bit -more closely. - -The advertiser seeks the large circulation. The biggest advertiser seeks -the cheapest people. Thus is a small newspaper (the shoe will pinch the -feet of the great as well) forced, in order to survive, to pander to the -Most Low. The man of culture does not buy $4.99 overcoats, the woman of -culture 27–cent slippers. The newspaper must see that it reaches those -who do. This is one of the saddest matters in the whole business. The -_Herald_ started with a circulation slightly over 2,000. I found that my -town was near enough to two big cities for the papers published there to -enter my field. I could not hope to rival their telegraphic features, -and I soon saw that, if the _Herald_ was to succeed, it must pay strict -attention to local news. My rival stole its telegraphic news bodily; I -paid for a service. The people seemed to care little for attempted -assassinations of the Shah, but they were intensely interested in -pinochle parties in the seventh ward. I gave them pinochle parties. -Still my circulation diminished. My rival regained all that I had taken -from him at the start. I wondered why, and compared the papers. I “set” -more matter than he. The great difference was that my headlines were -smaller and my editorial page larger than his. Besides, his tone was -much lower: he printed rumor, made news to deny it—did a thousand and -one things that kept his paper “breezy.” - -I put in bigger headlines—outdid him, in fact. I almost abolished my -editorial page, making of it an attempt to amuse, not to instruct. I -printed every little personality, every rumor that my staff could get -hold of in their tours. The result came slowly, but surely. Success came -when I exaggerated every little petty scandal, every row in a church -choir, every hint of a disturbance. I compromised four libel suits, and -ran my circulation up to 3,200 in eleven months. - -Then I formed some more conclusions. I evolved a newspaper law out of -the matter and the experience of some brothers in the craft in small -cities near by. Briefly, I stated it in this wise: The worse a paper is, -the more influence it has. To gain influence, be wholly bad. - -This is no paradox, nor does it reflect particularly upon the public. -There is reason for it in plenty. Take the ably edited paper, which -glories in its editorial page, in the clean exposition of an honest -policy, in high ideas put in good English, and you will find a paper -which has a small clientele in a provincial town; or, if it has readers, -it will have small influence. Say that it strikes the reader at -breakfast, and the person who has leisure to breakfast is the person who -has time for editorials, and the expression of that paper’s opinion is -carefully read. Should these opinions square with the preconceived ideas -of the reader, the editorials are “great”; if not, they are “rotten.” In -other words, the man who reads carefully written editorials is the man -whose opinion is formed—the man of culture, and therefore of prejudice. -Doubtless he is as well acquainted with conditions as the writer; -perhaps better acquainted. When a man does have opinions in a small -city, he is quite likely to have strong ones. A flitting editorial is -not the thing to change them. On the other hand, the man who has little -time to read editorials, or perhaps little inclination, is just the man -who might be influenced by them if read. Hence well-written editorials -on a small daily are wasted thunder in great part, an uneconomic -expenditure of force. - -When local politics are at fever-heat, a different aspect of affairs is -often seen: editorials are generally read, not so much as expressions of -opinion, but as party attack and defense. During periods of political -quiet the aim of most editorial pages is to amuse or divert. The -advertiser has noted the decadence of the editorial page, and as a -general thing makes a violent protest if the crying of his wares is made -to emanate from this poor, despised portion of the paper. An -advertisement on a local page is worth much more, and he pays more for -the privilege. - -So I learned another lesson. I shifted, as my successful contemporaries -have done, my centre of editorial gravity from its former high position -to my first and local pages. I now editorialize by suggestion. News now -carries its own moral, the bias I wish it to show. This requires no less -skill than the writing of editorials, and, greatly as I deplore it, I -find the results pleasing. Does the _Herald_ wish to denounce a public -official? Into a dozen articles is the venom inserted. Slyly, subtly, -and ofttimes openly do news articles point the obvious moral. The “Acqua -Tofana” of journalism is ready to be used when occasion demands, and -this is very often. Innuendo is common, the stiletto is inserted quietly -and without warning, and tactics a man would shun may be used by a -newspaper with little or no adverse comment. I mastered the philosophy -of the indirect. I gained my ends by carefully coloring my news to the -ends and policies of the paper. Nor am I altogether to blame. My paper -was supposed to have influence. When I wrote careful and patient -editorials, it had none. I saw that the public mind must be enfiladed, -ambushed, and I adopted those primary American tactics of Indian -warfare: shot from behind tree trunks, spared not the slain, and from -the covert of a news item sent out screeching savages upon the -unsuspecting public. Editorial warfare as conducted fifty years ago is -obsolete; its methods are as antiquated to-day as is the artillery of -that age. - - - III - -I have called the _Herald_ my own at different times in this article. I -conceived it, established it, built it up. It stands to-day as the -result of my work. True, my money was not the only capital it required, -but mine was the hand that reared it. I found, to my great chagrin, that -few people in the city considered me other than a hired servant of the -political organization that aided in establishing the _Herald_. It was -an “organ,” a something which stood to the world as the official -utterance of this political set. “Organs,” in newspaper parlance, -properly have but one function. Mine was evidently to explain or attack, -as the case might be. To the politicians who helped start the _Herald_ -the paper was a political asset. It could on occasion be a club or a -lever, as the situation demanded. I had been led to expect no personal -intrusion. “Just keep straight with the party” was all that was asked. -But never was constancy so unfaltering as that expected of the _Herald_. -It must not print this because it was true; it must print that because -it was untrue. - -I had been six months in the city, when I overheard a conversation in a -street car. “Oh, I’ll fix the _Herald_ all right. I know Johnny X,” said -one man. That was nice of Johnny X’s friend, I thought. The _Bulletin_ -accused me of not daring to print certain matters. I was ashamed, -humiliated. Between the friends of Johnny X and the friends of others, I -saw myself in my true light. Johnny X, by the way, a noisy ward -politician, owned just one share in the _Herald_; but that gave his -friends the right to ask him to “fix” it, nevertheless. - -I consulted with a wise man, a real leader, a man of experience and a -warm heart. He heard me and laughed, patting me on the shoulder to humor -me. “You want that printing, don’t you?” he asked. - -I admitted that I did. I had counted on it. - -“Then,” said my adviser, “I wouldn’t offend Johnny X, if I were you. He -controls the supervisor in his ward.” - -I began to see a great light, and I have needed no other illumination -since. This matter of public printing had been promised me. I knew it -was necessary. I saw that, inasmuch as it was given out by the lowest -politicians in the town, I escaped easily if I paid as my price the -indulgence of the various Johnnies X who had “influence.” I was the paid -supernumerary of the party, yet had to bear its mistakes and follies, -its weak men and their weaker friends, upon my poor editorial back. I -realized it from that moment; I should have seen it before. But for all -that, my cheeks burned for days, and my teeth set whenever I faced the -thought. I don’t mind it in the least now. - -So at the end of a year and a half I saw a few more things. I saw that -by being a good boy and adaptable to “fixing” I could earn thirty-five -dollars a week with less work than I could earn forty-five dollars in a -big city. I saw that the _Herald_ as a business proposition was a -failure; that is, it was not, even under the most advantageous -conditions, the money-maker that I at first thought it to be. I saw that -if the city grew, and if there were no more rivals, if there were a -hundred advantageous conditions, it might make several thousand dollars -a year, besides paying me a bigger salary. I was very much disheartened. -Then there came a turn. - -I saw the business part of the proposition very clearly. I must play in -with my owners, the party; and in turn my owners would support me nearly -as well when they were out of power as they could when ruling. Revenue -came from the city, the county, the state, all at “legal” rates. I began -to see why these “legal” rates were high, some five times higher than -those of ordinary advertising for such a paper as the _Herald_. The -state, when paying its advertising bill, must pay the _Herald_ five -times the rate any clothing advertiser could get. The reason is not -difficult to see. All over the state and country there are papers just -like the _Herald_, controlled by little cliques of politicians, who, too -miserly to support the necessary losses, make the people pay for them. -Any attempt to lower the legal rate in any state legislature would call -up innumerable champions of the “press,” gentlemen all interested in -their newspapers at home. The people pay more than a cent for their -penny papers. It is the tax-payer who supports a thousand and one -unnecessary “organs.” The politicians are wise, after all. - -So I got my perspective. I was paid to play the political game of -others. I had to play it supported by indirect bribes. As a straight -business proposition,—that is, without any state or city advertising, -tax sales, printing of the proceedings, and the like,—the _Herald_ could -not live out a year. But by refusing to say many things, and by saying -many more, I could get such share of these matters as would support the -paper. In my second year, near its close, I saw that I was really a -property, a chattel, a something bought and sold. I was being trafficked -with to my loss. My friends bought me with public printing, and sold me -for their own ends. I saw that they had the best of the bargain. - -I could do better without the middlemen. I determined to make my own -bargain with the devil for my own soul. It was a brilliant thought, but -a bitter one. I determined to be a Sir John Hawkwood, and sell my -editorial mercenaries to the highest bidder. Only the weak are -gregarious, I thought with Nietzsche. If I could not put a name upon my -actions, at least I could put a price. I made a loan, grabbed up some -_Herald_ stock cheaply, and owned at last over fifty per cent of my own -paper. Now, I thought, I will at least make money. - -I knew at just that time, that my own party, joined with the enemy, was -much interested in a contract the city was about to make with a lighting -company, a longterm contract at an exorbitant price. No opposition was -expected. The city council had been “seen,” the reformers silenced. I -knew some of the particulars. I knew that both parties were gaining at -the public expense, to their own profit and the tremendous profit of the -gas company. I, fearless in my new control, sent out a small editorial -feeler, a little suggestion about municipal ownership. This time my -editorial did have influence. No mango tree of an Indian juggler -blossomed quicker. I was called upon one hour after the paper was out. -What in the name of all unnamable did I mean? I laughed. I pointed out -the new holdings of stock I had acquired. What did the gentlemen mean? -They didn’t know—not then. - -I had a very pleasant call from the gas company’s attorney the next day. -He was a most agreeable fellow, a man of parts, assuredly. I, a -conscious chattel, would now appraise myself. I waited, letting the -pleasantry flow by in a gentle stream. By the way, suggested my new -friend, why didn’t I try for the printing of the gas company? It was -quite a matter. My friend was surprised that the _Herald_ had so -complete a job-printing plant. The gas company had all of its work done -out of town, at a high rate, he thought. He would use his influence, -etc., etc. Actually, I felt very important! All this to come out of a -little editorial on municipal ownership! The _Herald_ didn’t care for -printing so very much, I said. But I would think it over. - -The next day I followed up my municipal ownership editorial. It was my -answer. I waited for theirs. I waited in vain. I had overreached myself. -This was humiliation indeed, and it aroused every bit of ire and revenge -in me. I boldly launched out on a campaign against the dragon. I would -see if the “press” could be held so cheaply. I printed statistics of the -price of lighting in other cities. I exposed the whole scheme. I stood -for the people at last! My early fire came back. We would see: the -people and the _Herald_ against a throttling corporation and a gang of -corrupt aldermen. - -Then the other side got into the war. I went to the bank to renew a -note. I had renewed it a dozen times before. But the bank had seen the -Gorgon and turned to stone. I digged deep and met the note. A big law -firm which had given me all its business began to seek out the -_Bulletin_. One or two advertisers dropped out. Some unseen hand began -to foment a strike. Were the banks, the bar, and, worst of all, the -labor unions, in the pay of a gas company? It was exhilarating to be -with “the people,” but exhilaration does not meet pay-rolls. I may state -that I am now doing the gas company’s printing at a very fair rate. - -I saw that the policy was a good one, nevertheless. I also saw that it -could not be carried to the extreme. So I have become merely -threatening. I have learned never to overstep my bounds. I take my lean -years and my fat years, still a hireling, but having somewhat to say -about my market value. What provincial paper does not have the same -story to tell? - -My public doesn’t care for good writing. It has no regard for reason. -During one political campaign I tried reason. That is, I didn’t denounce -the adversary. Admitting he had some very good points, I showed why the -other man had better ones. The general impression was that the _Herald_ -had “flopped,” just because I did not abuse my party’s opponent, but -tried to defeat him with logic! A paper is always admired for its -backbone, and backbone is its refusal to see two sides to a question. - -I have reached the “masses.” I tell people what they knew beforehand, -and thus flatter them. Aiming to instruct them, I should offend. God is -with the biggest circulations, and we must have them, even if we appeal -to class prejudice now and then. - -I can occasionally foster a good work, almost underhandedly, it would -seem. I take little pleasure in it. The various churches, hospitals, the -library, all expect to be coddled indiscriminately and without returning -any thanks whatever. I formerly had as much railroad transportation as I -wished. I still have the magazines free of charge and a seat in the -theatre. These are my “perquisites.” There is no particular future for -me. The worst of it is that I don’t seem to care. The gradual falling -away from the high estate of my first editorial is a matter for the -student of character, which I am not. In myself, as in my paper, I see -only results. - - -I think these confessions are ample enough and blunt enough. When I left -the high school, I would have wished to word them in Stevensonian -manner. That was some time ago. We who run small dailies have little -care for the niceties of style. There are few of our clientele who know -the nice from the not-nice. In our smaller cities we “suicide” and -“jeopardize.” We are visited by “agriculturalists,” and “none of us are” -exempt from little iniquities and uniquities of style and expression. We -go right on: “commence” where we should “begin,” use “balance” for -“remainder,” never think of putting the article before “Hon.” and -“Rev.,” and some of us abbreviate “assemblyman” into “ass,” meaning -nothing but condensation. Events still “transpire” in our small cities, -and inevitably we “try experiments.” We have learned to write -“trousers,” and “gents” appears only in our advertisements. In common -with the very biggest and best papers we always say “leniency.” That I -do these things, the last coercion of environment, is the saddest, to -me, of all. - - - - - THE COUNTRY EDITOR OF TO-DAY - - BY CHARLES MOREAU HARGER - - - I - -Eulogies and laudatory paragraphs, alternating with sneers, ridicule, -and deprecations, long have been the lot of the country editor. Pictured -in the comic papers as an egotistic clown, exalted by the politicians as -a mighty “moulder of public opinion,” occasionally chastised by angry -patrons, and sometimes remembered by delighted subscribers, he has put -his errors where they could be read of all men and has modestly sought a -fair credit for his merits. - -At times he has rebelled—not at treatment from his constituency but at -patronizing remarks of the city journalist who sits at a mahogany desk -and dictates able articles for the eighteen-page daily, instead of -writing local items at a pine table in the office of a four-page weekly. -Thus did one voice his protest: “When you consider that the country -weekly is owned by its editor and that the man who writes the funny -things about country papers in the city journals is owned by the -corporation for which he writes, it doesn’t seem so sad. When you see an -item in the city papers poking fun at the country editor for printing -news about John Jones’ new barn, you laugh and laugh—for you know that -on one of the pages of that same city daily is a two-column story in -regard to the trimmings on the gowns of the Duchess of Wheelbarrow. And -it is all the more amusing because you know the duchess does not even -know of the existence of the aforesaid city paper, while John Jones and -many of his neighbors take and pay for the paper which mentioned his new -barn. Don’t waste your pity on the country newspaper worker. He will get -along.” - -Little money is needed to start a country paper. There are those who -claim that it does not require any money,—that it can be done on nerve -alone,—and they produce evidence to support the statement. True, some of -the editors who have the least money and the poorest plants are most -successful in their efforts to live up to the conception developed by -the professional humorist; but it is not fair to judge the country -editor by these—any more than it would be fair to judge the workers on -the great city dailies by the publishers of back-street fake sheets that -exist merely to rob advertisers; or to judge the editors of reputable -magazines by the promoters of nauseous monthlies whose stock in trade is -a weird and sickening collection of mail-order bargains and quack -medicine advertisements. - -The country editor of to-day is far removed from his prototype of two or -three decades ago. It would be strange if an age that gives to the -farmer his improved self-binder, to the physician his X-ray machine, and -to the merchant his loose-leaf ledger, had done nothing for the town’s -best medium of publicity. The perfection of stereotype plate manufacture -by which a page of telegraph news may be delivered ready for printing at -a cost of approximately twenty cents a column, and the elaboration of -the “ready print,” or “patent inside,” by which half the paper is -printed before delivery, yet at practically no expense over the -unprinted sheets, have been the two great labor-savers for the country -editor. Thereby he is relieved, if he desire, of the tedious and -expensive task of setting much type in order to give the world’s general -news, and the miscellaneous matter that “fills up” the paper. His -energies then may be devoted to reporting the happenings of his locality -and to giving his opinions on public affairs. By his doing of these, and -by his relations toward the public interests, is he to be judged. - -After all, no one man in the community has so large an opportunity to -assist the town in advancement as the editor. It is not because he is -smarter than others, not because he is wealthy—but because he is the -spokesman to the outside world. - -He is eager to print all the news in his own paper. Does he do it? -Hardly. “This would be a very newsy paper,” explained a frank country -editor to his subscribers, “were it not for the fact that each of the -four men who work on it has many friends. By the time all the items that -might injure some of their friends are omitted, very little is left.” - -“I wish you would print a piece about our schoolteacher,” said a -farmer’s wife to me one afternoon. “Say that she is the best teacher in -the county.” - -“But I can’t do that—two hundred other teachers would be angry. You -write the piece, sign it, and I’ll print it.” - -“What are you running a newspaper for if you can’t please your -subscribers?” she demanded—and canceled her subscription. - -So the country editor leaves out certain good things and certain bad -things for the very simple reason that the persons most interested are -close at hand and can find the individual responsible for the -statements. He becomes wise in his generation and avoids chastisements -and libel suits. He finds that there is no lasting regard in a sneer, no -satisfaction in gratifying the impulse to say things that bring tears to -women’s eyes, nothing to gloat over in opening a wound in a man’s heart. -If he does not learn this as he grows older in the service, he is a poor -country editor. - -His relations to his subscribers are intimate. There is little mystery -possible about the making of the paper; it is as if he stood in the -market-place and told his story. Of course, the demands upon him are -many and some of them preposterous. Men with grafts seek to use the -paper, people with schemes ask free publicity. The country editor is -criticised for charging for certain items that no city paper prints -free. The churches and lodges want free notices of entertainments by -which they hope to make money; semi-public entertainments prepared under -the management of a traveling promoter ask free advertising “for the -good of the cause.” Usually they get it, and when the promoter passes -on, the editor is found to be the only one in town who received nothing -for his labor. - -It is characteristic of the country town to engage in community -quarrels. These absorb the attention of the citizens, and feeling -becomes bitter. The cause may be trifling: the location of a -schoolhouse, the building of a bridge, the selection of a justice of the -peace, or some similar matter, is enough. To the newspaper office hurry -the partisans, asking for _ex parte_ reports of the conditions. One -leader is, perhaps, a liberal advertiser; to offend him means loss of -business. Another is a personal friend; to anger him means the loss of -friendship. The editor of the only paper in the town must be a diplomat -if he is to guide safely through the channel. In former times he tried -to please both sides and succeeded in making enemies of every one -interested. Now the well-equipped editor takes the position that he is a -business man like the others, that he has rights as do they, and he -states the facts as he sees them, regardless of partisanship, letting -the public do the rest. If there be another paper in town, the problem -is easy, for the other faction also has an “organ.” - -Out of the public’s disagreement may come a newspaper quarrel—though -this is a much rarer thing than formerly. The old-time country newspaper -abuse of “our loathed but esteemed contemporary” is passing away, it -being understood that such a quarrel, with personalities entangled in -the recriminations, is both undignified and ungentlemanly. “But people -will read it,” says the man who by gossip encourages these attacks. So -will people listen to a coarse street controversy carried on in a loud -and angry tone,—but little is their respect for the principals engaged. -Country editors of the better class now treat other editors as -gentlemen, and the paper that stoops to personal attacks is seldom -found. Many a town has gone for years without other than kindly mention -in any paper of the editors of the other papers, and in such towns you -will generally find peace and courtesy among the citizens. - -Of course, there are politics and political arguments, but few are the -editors so lacking in the instincts of a gentleman as to bring into -these the opposing editor’s personal and family affairs. It has come to -be understood that such action is a reflection on the one who does it, -not on the object of his attack. This is another way of saying that more -real gentlemen are running country newspapers to-day than ever before. -This broadening of character has broadened influence. The country paper -is effecting greater things in legislation than the county conventions -are. - -“The power of the country press in Washington surprises me,” said a -Middle West congressman last winter. “During my two terms I have been -impressed with it constantly. I doubt if there is a single calm -utterance in any paper in the United States that does not carry some -weight in Washington among the members of Congress. You might think that -what some little country editor says does not amount to anything, but it -means a great deal more than most people realize. When the country -editor, who is looking after nothing but the county printing, gives -expression to some rational idea about a national question, the man off -here in Congress knows that it comes from the grass-roots. The lobby, -the big railroad lawyers, and that class of people, realize the power of -the press, but they hate it. I have heard them talk about it and shake -their heads and say, ‘Too much power there!’ The press is more powerful -than money.” - -This was not said in flattery, but because he had seen on congressmen’s -desks the heaps of country weeklies, and he knew how closely they were -read. The smallest editorial paragraph tells the politician of the -condition in that paper’s community, for he knows that it is put there -because the editor has gathered the idea from some one whom he trusts as -a leader—and the politician knows approximately who that leader is. So -the country editor often exerts a power of which he knows little. - - - II - -But politics is only a part of the country editor’s life. The social -affairs of the community are nearest to him. The proud father who brings -in a cigar with a notice of the seventh baby’s arrival (why cigars and -babies should be associated in men’s minds I never understood), the -fruit farmer who presents some fine Ben Davis apples in the expectation -that he will get a notice, are but types. The editor may have some -doubts concerning the need of a seventh child in the family of the proud -father, and he may not be particularly fond of Ben Davis apples; but he -gives generous notices because he knows that the gifts were prompted by -kind hearts and that the givers are his friends. - -When joy comes to the household, it is but the working of the heart’s -best impulses to desire that all should share it. The news that the -princess of the family has, after many years of waiting, wedded a -prosperous merchant of the neighboring county, brings the family into -prominence in the home paper. Seldom in these busy times does the editor -get a piece of wedding-cake, but nevertheless he fails not to say that -the bride is “one of our loveliest young ladies and the groom is worthy -of the prize he has won.” The city paper does not do that. Here and -there a country editor tries to put on city airs and give the bare facts -of “social functions,” without a personal touch to the lines. But -infrequently does he succeed in reaching the hearts of his readers, and -somehow he finds that his contemporary across the street, badly printed, -sprinkled with typographical errors and halting in its grammar, but -profuse in its laudations, is getting an unusual number of new -subscribers. Even you, though you may pretend to be unmindful, are not -displeased when on the day after your party you read that the guests -“went home feeling that a good time had been had.” - -The time has not yet come for the country paper to assume city airs; nor -is it likely to arrive for many years. The reason is a psychological -one. The city journal is the paper of the masses; the country weekly or -small daily is the paper of the neighborhood. One is general and -impersonal; the other, direct and intimate. One is the market-place; the -other, the home. The distinction is not soon to be wiped out. - -And when sorrow comes! Into the home of a city friend of mine death -entered, taking the wife and mother. The family had been prominent in -social circles, and columns were printed in the city papers, columns of -cold, biographical facts—born, married, died. But the news went back to -the small country town where in their early married life the husband and -wife had spent many happy years, and in the little country weekly was -quite another sort of story. It told how much her friends loved her, how -saddened they were by her passing away, how sweet and womanly had been -her character. The husband did not send the city papers to distant -acquaintances; he sent copy after copy of the little country weekly, the -only place where, despite his prominence in the world, appeared a -sympathetic relation of the loss that had come to him. - -Week after week the country paper does this. From issue after issue -clippings are stowed away in bureau drawers or pasted in family Bibles, -because they picture the loved one gone. It may not be a very high -mission; but no part of the country editor’s work has in it more of -satisfaction and recompense. - -After the funeral comes the real test of the editor’s good-nature. Long -resolutions adopted by lodges and church organizations are handed in for -publication, each bristling with the forms of ritual or creed, and each -signed with the names of the committee members upon whom devolved the -task of composition. A few country editors are brave enough to demand -payment at advertising rates for these publications; generally they are -printed without charge. - -Nor is there a halt at this step in the proceeding. One day a sad-faced -farmer, with a heavy band of crape around his battered soft hat, -accompanied by a woman whose heavy veil and black dress are sufficient -insignia of woe, comes to the office. - -“We would like to put in a ‘card of thanks,’” begins the man, “and we -wish you would write it for us. We ain’t very good at writing pieces, -and you know how.” - -Does the editor tell them how bad is the taste that indulges the -stereotyped card of thanks? Does he haughtily refuse to be a party to -such violation of form’s canons? Scarcely. He knows the formula by heart -and “the kind friends and neighbors who assisted us in our late -bereavement” comes to him as easily as the opening words of a mayor’s -proclamation. - -Occasionally there is literary talent in the family, and the “card” is -prepared without the editor’s assistance. Here is one verbatim as it -came to the desk:— - -“We extend our thanks to the good people who assisted us in the sickness -and death of our wife and daughter: The doctor who was so faithful in -attendance and effort to bring her back to health, the pastor who -visited and prayed with her and us, the students who watched with us and -waited on her, the neighbors who did all they could in helping care for -her, the dormitory students, the faculty, the literary societies and the -A.O.U.W. who furnished such beautiful flowers, we thank them all. Then -the undertaker who was so kind, the liveryman and other friends who -furnished carriages for us to go to the cemetery—yes, we thank you all.” - -Doubtless he feels that he should do something toward conserving the -best taste in social usage, and that the “card of thanks” should be -ruthlessly frowned down; but he sees also the other side. It is -unquestionably prompted by a spirit of sincere gratitude, and survives -as a concession to a supposed public opinion. Like other things that are -self-perpetuating, this continues—and the country editor out of the -goodness of his heart assists in its longevity. In no path is the -progress of the reformer so difficult as in that of social custom; and -this is as true on the village street as on the city boulevard. - - - III - -The past half-decade has brought to the country editor a new problem and -a new rival,—the rural delivery route. Until this innovation came, few -farmers took daily papers. The country weekly, or the weekly from the -city, furnished the news. - -Out in the Middle West the other morning, a dozen miles from town, a -farmer rode on a sulky plough turning over brown furrows for the new -crop. “I see by to-day’s Kansas City papers,” he began, as a visitor -came alongside, “that there is trouble in Russia again.” “What do you -know about what is in to-day’s Kansas City papers?” “Oh, we got them -from the carrier an hour ago.” - -It was not yet noon, but he was in touch with the world’s news up to one -o’clock that morning—and this twelve miles from a railroad and two -hundred miles west of the Missouri River! In that county every farmhouse -has rural delivery of mail; and one carrier makes his round in an -automobile, covering the thirty miles in four hours or less. - -The country editor has viewed with alarm this changing condition. He has -feared that he would be robbed of his subscribers through the familiar -excuse, “I’m takin’ more papers than I can read.” But nothing of the -kind has happened. Although the rural carriers take each morning great -packages of daily papers, brought to the village by the fast mail, the -people along the routes are as eager as ever for the weekly visit of the -home paper. If by accident one copy is missing from the carrier’s supply -on Thursday, great is the lamentation. It is doubtful if a single -country paper has been injured by the rural route; in most instances the -reading habit has been so stimulated as to increase the patronage. - -This it has done: it has impressed on the editor the necessity of giving -much attention to home news and less to the happenings afar. This is, -indeed, the province of the country paper, since it is of the home and -the family, not of the market-place. This feature will grow, and the -country paper will become more a chronicle of home news and less a -purveyor of outside happenings, for soon practically every farmer will -have his daily paper with the regularity of the sunrise. On the whole, -instead of being an injury this is helpful to the rural publisher; it -relieves him of responsibility for a broad field of information and -allows him to devote his energy to that news which gives the greatest -hold on readers,—the doings of the immediate community. With this will -come more generally the printing of the entire paper at home and the -decline of the “patent inside,” now so common, which has served its -purpose well. If it exist, it will be in a modified form, devoted -chiefly to readable articles of a literary rather than of a news value. - -The city daily may give the telegraph news of the world in quicker and -better service, the mail-order house may occasionally undersell the home -merchant, the glory of the city’s lights may dazzle; but, at the end of -the week, home and home institutions are best; so only one publication -gives the news we most wish to know,—the country paper. The city -business man throws away his financial journal and his yellow “extra,” -and tears open the pencil-addressed home paper that brings to him -memories of new-mown hay and fallow fields and boyhood. Regardless of -its style, its grammar, or its politics, it holds its reader with a grip -that the city editor may well envy. - -In these times the country editor is, like the publisher of the city, a -business man. Scores of offices of country weeklies within two hundred -miles of the Rockies (which is about as far inland as we can get -nowadays) have linotypes or type-setting machines, run the presses with -an electric motor, and give the editor an income of three thousand -dollars or more a year for labor that allows many a vacation day. The -country editor gets a good deal out of life. He lives well; he travels -much; he meets the best people of his state; and, if he be inclined, he -can accomplish much for his own improvement. Added to this is the joy of -rewarding the honorable, decent people of the town with good words and -helpful publicity, and the satisfaction of seeing that the rascals get -their dues,—and get them they do if the editor lives and the rascals -live, for in the country town the editor’s turn always comes. It may be -long delayed, but it arrives. If he use his power with honesty and -intelligence, he can do much good for the community. - -In the opinion of some this danger threatens: the increased rapidity of -transportation, the multitude of fast trains, and the facilities for -placing the big city papers within a zone of one hundred miles of the -office of publication, mean the large representation of particular -localities, or even the establishment of editions devoted to them. The -city paper tries to absorb the local patronage through the competent -correspondent who practically edits certain columns or pages of the -journal. In the thickly settled East this is more successful than in the -West, where distance helps the local paper. But the zone is widening -with every improvement in transportation of mails, and soon few sections -of the country will be outside the possibilities of some city paper’s -enterprise in this direction. - -When this happens, will the local weekly go out of existence and its -subscribers be attached to the big city paper whose facilities for -getting news and whose enterprise in reaching the uttermost parts of the -world far outstrip the slow-going weekly’s best efforts? It is not -likely. The county-seat weekly to-day, with its energetic correspondent -in the town of Centreville, adds to its list in that section because it -gives the news fully and crisply; but it does not drive out of business -the Centreville _Palladium_, whose editor has a personal acquaintance -with every subscriber and who caters to the home pride of the community. -It is probable that the _Palladium_ will be more enterprising and will -devote more attention to the doings of the dwellers in Centreville in -order to keep abreast with the competition; but it cannot be driven out, -nor its editor forced from his position by dearth of business. The life -of a forceful paper is long. One such paper was sold and its name -changed eighteen years ago; yet letters and subscriptions still are -addressed to the old publication. A hold like that on a community’s life -cannot be broken by competition. - - - IV - -The evolution of the country weekly into the country daily is becoming -easier as telephone and telegraph become cheaper, and transportation -enables publishers to secure at remote points a daily “plate” service -that includes telegraph news up to a few hours of the time of -publication. The publishing of an Associated Press daily, which twenty -years ago always attended a town’s boom and generally resulted in the -suspension of a bank or two and the financial ruin of several families, -has become simplified until it is within reach of modest means. - -Instead of the big city journals extending their sway to crush out the -country paper, it is more probable that the country papers will take on -some of the city’s airs, and that, with the added touch of personal -familiarity with the people and their affairs, the country editor will -become a greater power than in the past. For it is recognized to-day -that the publication of a paper is a business affair and not a matter of -faith or revenge. If the publication be not a financial success, it is -not much of a success of any kind. - -The old-time editor who prided himself on his powers of vituperation, -who thundered through double-leaded columns his views on matters of -world-importance and traded space for groceries and dry goods, has few -representatives to-day. The wide-awake, clean-cut, well-dressed young -men, paying cash for their purchases and demanding cash for advertising, -alert to the business and political movements that make for progress, -and taking active part in the interests of the town, precisely as though -they were merchants or mechanics, asking no favors because of their -occupation, are taking their places. This sort of country editor is -transforming the country paper and is making of it a business enterprise -in the best sense of the term,—something it seldom was under the old -régime. - -This eulogy is one often quoted by the country press: “Every year every -local paper gives from five hundred to five thousand lines for the -benefit of the community in which it is located. No other agency can or -will do this. The editor, in proportion to his means, does more for his -town than any other man. To-day editors do more work for less pay than -any men on earth.” - -Like other eulogies it has in it something of exaggeration. It assumes -the country editor to be a philanthropist above his neighbors. The new -type of country editor makes no such claim. To be sure, he prints many -good things for the community’s benefit,—but he does it because he is a -part of the community. What helps the town helps him. His neighbor, the -miller, would do as much; his other neighbor, the hardware man, is as -loyal and in his way works as hard for the town’s upbuilding. In other -words, the country editor of to-day assumes no particular virtue because -his capital is invested in printing-presses, paper, and a few thousand -pieces of metal called type. He does realize that because of his -avocation he is enabled to do much for good government, for progress, -and for the betterment of his community. Unselfishly and freely he does -this. He starts movements that bring scoundrels to terms, that place -flowers where weeds grew before, that banish sorrow and add to the -world’s store of joy; but he does not presume that because of this he -deserves more credit than his fellow business men. He is indeed fallen -from grace who makes a merit of doing what is decent and honest and -fair. - -It is often remarked that the ambition of the country editor is to -secure a position on a city paper. I have had many city newspapermen -confide to me that their fondest hope was to save enough money to buy a -country weekly in a thriving town. At first thought it would seem that -the city journalist would fail in the new field, having been educated in -a vastly different atmosphere and being unacquainted with the conditions -under which the country editor must make friends and secure business. -But two of the most successful newspapers of my acquaintance are edited -by men who served their apprenticeship on city dailies, and finally -realized their heart’s desire and bought country weeklies in prosperous -communities. They are not only making more money than ever before, but -both tell me that they have greater happiness than came in the old days -of rush, hurry, and excitement. - -So long as a country paper can be issued without the expenditure of more -than a few hundred dollars, so long as the man with ambition and money -can satisfy his desire to “edit,” the country paper will be fruitful of -jocose remarks by the city journalist. There will be columns of odd -reprint from the backwoods of Arkansas, and queer combinations of -grammar and egotism from the Egypt of Illinois. The exchange editor will -find in his rural mail much food for humorous comment, but he will not -find characterizing the country editor a lack of independence, or a lack -of ability to look out for himself. The country editor is doing very -well, and the trend of his business affairs is in the direction of -better financial returns and wider influence. He is a greater power now -than ever before in his history, and he will become more influential as -the years go by. He will not be controlled by a syndicate, or modeled -after a machine-made pattern, but will exert his individuality wherever -he may be. - -The country editor of to-day is coming into his own. He asks fewer -favors and brings more into the store of common good. He does not ask -eulogies nor does he resent fair criticisms; he is content to be judged -by what he is and what he has accomplished. As the leader of the hosts -must hold his place by the consent of his followers, so must the town’s -spokesman prove his worth. Closest to the people, nearest to their home -life, its hopes and its aspirations, the country editor is at the -foundation of journalism. Here and there is a weak and inefficient -example; but in the main he measures up to as high a standard as does -any class of business men in the nation,—and it is as a business man -that he prefers to be classed. - - - - - SENSATIONAL JOURNALISM AND THE LAW - - BY GEORGE W. ALGER - - - I - -So much has been said in recent years concerning the methods and -policies of sensational journalism that a further word upon a topic so -hackneyed would seem almost to require an explanation or an apology. -Current criticism, however, for the most part, has been confined to only -one of its many characteristics,—its bad taste and its vulgarizing -influence on its readers by daily offenses against the actual, though as -yet ideal, right of privacy, by its arrogant boastfulness, mawkish -sentimentality, and a persistent and systematic distortion of values in -events. - -This, the most noticeable feature of yellow journalism, is indicative -rather of its character than of its purpose. In considering, however, -the present subject,—sensational journalism in its relation to the -making, enforcing, and interpreting of law,—we enter a different field, -that of the conscious policies and objects with and for which these -papers are conducted. The main business of a newspaper as defined by -journalists of the old school is the collection and publication of news -of general interest coupled with editorial comment upon it. The old-time -editor was a ruminative and critical observer of public events. This -definition of the functions of a newspaper was long ago scornfully cast -aside as absurdly antiquated and insufficient to include the myriad -circulation-making enterprises of yellow journalism. These papers are -not simply purveyors of news and comment, but have what, for lack of a -better term, may be called constructive policies of their own. In the -making of law, for example, not content with mere criticism of -legislators and their measures, the new journalism conceives and -exploits measures of its own, drafted by its own counsel, and introduced -as legislative bills by statesmen to whom flattering press notices and -the publication of an occasional blurred photograph are a sufficient -reward. Not infrequently measures thus conceived and drafted are -supported by specially prepared “monster petitions,” containing -thousands of names, badly written and of doubtful authenticity, of -supposed partisans, and by special trains filled with orators and a -heterogeneous rabble described in the news columns as “committees of -citizens,” who at critical periods are collected together and turned -loose upon the assembled lawmakers as an impressive object lesson of the -public interest fervidly aroused on behalf of the newspaper’s bill. - -The ethics of persuasion is an interesting subject. It falls, however, -outside the scope of this article. It is impossible to lay down any hard -and fast rule by which to determine in all cases what form of newspaper -influence is legitimate and what illegitimate. The most obvious -characteristic of yellow journalism in its relation to lawmaking is that -it prefers ordinarily to obtain its ends by the use of intimidation -rather than by persuasion. The monster petition scheme just referred to -is merely one illustrative expression of this preference. When a -newspaper of this type is interested in having some official do some -particular thing in some particular way, it spends little of its space -or time in attempting to show the logical propriety or necessity for the -action it desires. It seeks first and foremost to make the official see -that _the eyes of the people are on him_, and that any action by him -contrary to that which the newspaper assures him the people want would -be fraught with serious personal consequences. The principal point with -these papers is always “the people demand” (in large capitals) this or -that, and the logic or reason of the demand is obscured or ignored. It -is the headless Demos transformed into printer’s ink. If by any chance -any official, so unfortunate as to have ideas of his own as to how his -office should be conducted, proves obdurate to the demands of the -printed voice of the people, he becomes the target for newspaper -attacks, calculated to destroy any reputation he may previously have had -for intelligence, sobriety of judgment, or public efficiency, his -tormentor, so far as libel is concerned, keeping, however, as Fabian -says, “on the windy side of the law.” - -An amusing illustration of this kind of warfare occurred in New York -some years ago, when for several weeks one of these newspapers published -daily attacks upon the President of the Board of Police Commissioners, -because he refused to follow the newspaper theories of the proper way of -enforcing, or rather not enforcing, the Excise Law. The newspaper took -the position that, while the powers of the Police Department were being -largely turned to ferreting out saloon-keepers who were keeping open -after hours or on Sundays, the detection of serious crimes was being -neglected, and that a “carnival of crime,” to use the picturesque -wording of its headlines, was being carried on in the city. Finally, in -one of its issues the paper published a list of thirty distinct criminal -offenses of the most serious character,—murder, felonious assault, -burglary, grand larceny, and the like,—all alleged to have been -committed within a week, in none of which, it asserted, had any criminal -been captured or any stolen property recovered. Events which followed -immediately upon this last publication showed that the newspaper had -erred grievously in its estimate of this particular official under -attack. A few days later the Police Commissioner, Mr. Roosevelt, -published in the columns of all the other newspapers in New York the -result of his own personal investigation of these thirty items of -criminal news, showing conclusively that twenty-eight of them were -canards pure and simple, and that in the remaining two police activity -had brought about results of a most satisfactory kind. Following this -statement of the facts was appended an adaptation of some fifteen or -twenty lines from Macaulay’s merciless essay on Barrère,—perhaps the -finest philippic against a notorious and inveterate liar which the -English language affords,—so worded that they should apply, not only to -the newspaper which published this spurious list of alleged crimes, but -to the editor and proprietor personally. The carnival of crime ended at -once. - -It is, of course, impossible to determine accurately the extent of -newspaper influence upon legislation and the conduct of public officials -by these systematic attempts at bullying. Making all due allowance, -however, there have been within recent years many significant -illustrations of the influence of yellow journalism upon the shaping of -public events. Mr. Creelman is quite right in saying, as he does in his -interesting book, _On the Great Highway_, that the story of the Spanish -war is incomplete which overlooks the part that yellow journalism had in -bringing it on. He tells us that, some time prior to the commencement of -hostilities, a well-known artist, who had been sent to Cuba as a -representative of one of these papers and had there grown tired of -inaction, telegraphed his chief that there was no prospect of war, and -that he wished to come home. The reply he received was characteristic of -the journalism he represented: “You furnish the pictures, we will -furnish the war.” It is characteristic because the new journalism aims -to direct rather than to influence, and seeks, to an extent never -attempted or conceived by the journalism it endeavors so strenuously to -supplant, to create public sentiment rather than to mould it, to make -measures and find men. - -The larger number of the readers of the great sensational newspapers -live at or near the place of publication, where the half-dozen daily -editions can be placed in their hands hot from the press. The news -furnished in them is, for the most part, of distinctively local -interest. In their columns the horizon is narrow and inexpressibly -dingy. Detailed narrations of sensational local happenings, preferably -crimes and scandals, are given conspicuous places, while more important -events occurring outside the city limits are treated with telegraphic -brevity. These papers constitute beyond question the greatest -provincializing influence in metropolitan life. - -The particular local functions of sensational journalism which bring it -in close relation to the courts result from its self-imposed -responsibilities as detective and punisher of crime and as director of -municipal officials. So far as the latter are concerned, yellow -journalism has apparently a good record. Many recent instances might, -for example, be cited where these newspapers, acting under the names of -“dummy” plaintiffs, have sought and obtained preliminary or temporary -injunctions against threatened official malfeasance, or where they have -instituted legal proceedings to expose corrupt jobbery. As to the actual -results thus accomplished, other than the publicity obtained, the -general public is not in a position to judge. Temporary injunctions -granted merely until the merits of the case can be heard and determined -are of no particular value if, when the trial day comes, the newspaper -plaintiff fails to appear, the case is dismissed, and the temporary -injunction vacated. On such occasions, and they are more frequent than -the general public is aware, the newspaper takes little pains to inform -its readers of the final results of the matter over which it made such -hue and cry months before. - -But, however fair-minded persons may differ as to the results actually -obtained by these newspaper law enterprises in the civil courts, there -is less room for difference of opinion as to the methods with which they -are conducted. They are almost invariably so managed as to convey to the -minds of their readers the idea that the decision obtained, if a -favorable one, has not come as the result of a just rule of law laid -down by a wise and fair-minded judge, but has been obtained rather in -spite of both law and judge, and wholly because a newspaper of enormous -circulation, championing the cause of the people, has wrested the law to -its clamorous authority. The attitude of mind thus created is well -exemplified in a remark made to me by a business man of more than -ordinary intelligence, in discussing an injunction granted in one of -these newspaper suits arising out of a water scandal: “Why, of course -Judge ——— granted the injunction. Everybody knew he would. There is not -a judge on the bench who would have the nerve to decide the other way -with all the row the newspapers have made about it. He knows where his -bread is buttered.” - - - II - -One of the great features of counting-house journalism is its real or -supposed ability in the detection and punishment of crime. Whether this -field is a legitimate one for a newspaper to enter need not be discussed -here. It goes without saying that an interesting murder mystery sells -many papers, and if as a result of skillful detective work the guilty -party is finally brought to the gallows or the electric chair, it is a -triumph for the paper whose reporters are the sleuths. While such -efforts, when crowned with success, are the source probably of much -credit and revenue, there are various disagreeable possibilities -connected with failure which the astute managers of these papers can -never afford to overlook. While verdicts in libel suits are in this -country generally small (compared with those in England), and the libel -law itself is filled with curious and antiquated technicalities by which -verdicts may be avoided or reversed, nevertheless there is always the -possibility that an innocent victim of newspaper prosecution will turn -the tables and draw smart money from the enterprising journal’s coffers. -The acquittal of the person who has been thrust into jeopardy by -newspaper detectives is obviously a serious matter for the paper. On the -other hand, there are no important consequences from conviction except, -of course, to the person condemned. Is it to be expected that the -newspaper, under such circumstances, will preserve a disinterested and -impartial tone in its news columns while the man in the dock is fighting -for his life before the judge and jury? Is it remarkable that during the -course of such a trial the newspaper should fill its pages with ghastly -cartoons of the defendant, with murder drawn in every line of his face, -or that it should by its reports of the trial itself seek to impress its -readers with his guilt before it be proved according to law? that it -should send its reporters exploring for new witnesses for the -prosecution, and should publish in advance of their appearance on the -witness stand the substance of the damaging testimony it is claimed they -will give? that it should go even further, and (as was recently shown in -the course of a great poisoning case in New York City, the history of -which forms a striking commentary on all these abuses) actually pay -large sums of money to induce persons to make affidavits incriminating -the defendant on trial? - -Unfortunately, too often these efforts receive aid from prosecuting -officers whose sense of public duty is impaired or destroyed by the itch -for reputation and a cheap and tawdry type of forensic triumph. -Despicable enough is the district attorney who grants interviews to -newspaper reporters during the progress of a criminal trial, and who -makes daily statements to them of what he intends to prove on the morrow -unless prevented by the law as expounded by the trial judge. A careful -study of the progress of more than one great criminal trial in New York -City would show how illegal and improper matter prejudicial to the -person accused of crime has been ruled out by the trial court, only to -have the precise information spread about in thousands upon thousands of -copies of sensational newspapers, with a reasonable certainty of their -scare headlines, at least, being read by some of the jury. - -The pernicious influence of these journals upon the courts of justice in -criminal trials (and not merely in the comparatively small number in -which they are themselves the instigators of the criminal proceedings) -is that they often make fair play an impossibility. The days and weeks -that are now not infrequently given to selecting jurors in important -criminal cases are spent in large measure by counsel in examining -talesmen in an endeavor to find, if possible, twelve men in whose minds -the accused has not been already “tried by newspaper” and condemned or -acquitted. When the public feeling in a community is such that it will -be impossible for a party to an action to obtain an unprejudiced jury, a -change of venue is allowed to some other county where the state of the -public mind is more judicial. It is a significant fact that nearly all -applications for such change in the place of trial from New York City -have been for many years based mainly upon complaints of the -inflammatory zeal of the sensational press. - -The courts in Massachusetts (where judges are not elected by the people, -but are appointed by the governor) have been very prompt in dealing in a -very wholesome and summary way with editors of papers publishing matter -calculated to affect improperly the fairness of jury trials. Whether it -be from better principles or an inspiring fear of jail, the courts of -public justice in that state receive little interference from -unwarranted newspaper stories. Some of the cases in which summary -punishment has been meted out from the bench to Massachusetts editors -will impress New York readers rather curiously. For example, just before -the trial of a case involving the amount of compensation the owner of -land should receive for his land taken for a public purpose, a newspaper -in Worcester informed its readers that “the town offered Loring [the -plaintiff] $80 at the time of the taking, but he demanded $250, and not -getting it, went to law.” Another paper published substantially the same -statement, and both were summarily punished by fine, the court holding -that these articles were calculated to obstruct the course of justice, -and that they constituted contempt of court. During the trial of a -criminal prosecution in Boston a few years ago against a railway -engineer for manslaughter in wrecking his train, the editor of the -_Boston Traveler_ intimated editorially that the railway company was -trying to put the blame on the engineer as a scapegoat, and that the -result of the trial would probably be in his favor. The editor was -sentenced to jail for this publication. The foregoing are undoubtedly -extreme cases, and are chosen simply to show the extent to which some -American courts will go in punishing newspaper contempts. All of these -decisions were taken on appeal to the highest court of the state and -were there affirmed. The California courts have been equally vigorous in -several cases of recent years, notably in connection with publications -made during the celebrated Durant murder trial in San Francisco. - -The English courts are, if anything, even more severe in this class of -cases, a recent decision of the Court of King’s Bench being a noteworthy -illustration. During the trial of two persons for felony, the “special -crime investigator” of the _Bristol Weekly Dispatch_ sent to his paper -reports, couched in a fervid and sensational form, containing a number -of statements relating to matters as to which evidence would not have -been admissible in any event against the defendants on their trial, and -reflecting severely on their characters. Both of the defendants referred -to were convicted of the crime for which they were indicted, and -sentenced to long terms of imprisonment. Shortly after their conviction -and sentence the editor of the _Dispatch_ and this special crime -investigator were prosecuted criminally for perverting the course of -justice, and each of them was sentenced to six weeks in prison. Lord -Alverstone, who rendered the opinion on the appeal taken by the editor -and reporter, in affirming the judgment of conviction, expresses himself -in language well worth repeating. He says:[8]— - -Footnote 8: - - 1 K. B. (1902), 77.—G. W. A. - -“A person accused of crime in this country can properly be convicted in -a court of justice only upon evidence which is legally admissible, and -which is adduced at his trial in legal form and shape. Though the -accused be really guilty of the offense charged against him, the due -course of law and justice is nevertheless perverted and obstructed if -those who have to try him are induced to approach the question of his -guilt or innocence with minds into which prejudice has been instilled by -published assertions of his guilt, or imputations against his life and -character to which the laws of the land refuse admission as evidence.” - -In the state of New York the courts have permitted themselves to be -deprived of the greater portion of the power which the courts of -Massachusetts, in common with those of most of the states, exercise of -punishing for contempt the authors of newspaper publications prejudicial -to fair trials. Some twenty-five years ago the state legislature passed -an act defining and limiting the cases in which summary punishment for -contempt should be inflicted by the courts. Similar legislation has been -attempted in other states, only to be declared unconstitutional by the -courts themselves, which hold that the power to punish is inherent in -the judiciary independently of legislative authority, and that, as the -Supreme Court of Ohio says, “The power the legislature does not give, it -cannot take away.” But while the courts of Ohio, Virginia, Georgia, -Indiana, Kentucky, Arkansas, Colorado, and California have thus resisted -legislative encroachment upon their constitutional powers, the highest -court of New York has submitted to having its power to protect its own -usefulness and dignity shorn and curtailed by the legislature. The -result is that while by legislative permission they may punish the -editor or proprietor of a paper for contempt, it can be _only_ when the -offense consists in publishing “a false or grossly inaccurate report of -a judicial proceeding.” The insufficiency of such a power is apparent -when one considers that the greater number of the cartoons and comments -contained in publications fairly complained of as prejudicing individual -legal rights are not, and do not pretend to be, reports of judicial -proceedings at all, but are entirely accounts of matters “outside the -record.” If the acts done, for example, in any of the cases cited as -illustrations above, had been done under similar circumstances in New -York, the New York courts would have been powerless to take any -proceeding whatever in the nature of contempt against the respective -offenders. The result is that in the state which suffers most from the -gross and unbridled license of a sensational and lawless press the -courts possess the least power to repress and restrain its excesses. A -change of law which shall give New York courts power to deal summarily -with trial by newspaper is imperatively needed. - -To the two examples which have just been given of the direct influence -which counting-house journalism seeks to exert upon judges and jurors, -might be added others of equal importance, would space permit. But all -improper influences upon legislators or other public officials, or upon -judges or jurors, which these papers may exercise or attempt to -exercise, are as naught in comparison with their systematic and constant -efforts to instill into the minds of the ignorant and poor, who -constitute the greater part of their readers, the impression that -justice is not blind but bought; that the great corporations own the -judges, particularly those of the Federal courts, body and soul; that -American institutions are rotten to the core, and that legislative halls -and courts of justice exist as instruments of oppression, to preserve -the rights of property by denying or destroying the rights of man. No -greater injury can be done to the working people than to create in their -minds this false and groundless suspicion concerning the integrity of -the judiciary. In a country whose political existence, in the ultimate -analysis, depends so largely upon the intelligence and honesty of its -judges, the general welfare requires, not merely that judges should be -men of integrity, but that the people should believe them to be so. It -is this confidence which counting-house journalism has set itself -deliberately at undermining. It is not so important that the people -should believe in the wisdom of their judges. The liberty of criticism -is not confined to the bar and what Judge Grover used to call “the -lawyer’s inalienable privilege of damning the adverse judge—out of -court.” There is no divinity which hedges a judge. His opinions and his -personality are proper subjects for criticism, but the charge of -corruption should not be made recklessly and without good cause. - -It is noticeable that this charge of corruption which yellow journalism -makes against the courts is almost invariably a wholesale charge, never -accompanied by any specific accusation against any definite official. -These general charges are more frequently expressed by cartoon than by -comment. The big-chested Carthaginian labeled “The Trusts,” holding a -squirming Federal judge in his fist, is a cartoon which in one form or -another appears in some of these papers whenever an injunction is -granted in a labor dispute at the instance of some great corporation. -Justice holding her scales with a workingman unevenly balanced by an -immense bag of gold; a human basilisk with dollar marks on his clothes, -a judge sticking out of his pocket, and a workingman under his foot; -Justice holding her scales in one hand while the other is conveniently -open to receive the bribe that is being placed in it—these and many -other cartoons of similar character and meaning are familiar to all -readers of sensational newspapers. If their readers believe the -cartoons, what faith can they have left in American institutions? What -alternative is offered but anarchy if wealth has poisoned the fountains -of justice; if reason is powerless and money omnipotent? If the judges -are corrupt, the political heavens are empty. - -There is no occasion to defend the American judiciary from charges of -wholesale corruption. They might be passed over in silence if they were -addressed merely to the educated and intelligent, or to those familiar -by personal contact with the actual operations of the courts. That there -are many judicial decisions rendered which are unsound in their -reasoning may be readily granted. That some of the Federal judges are -men of very narrow gauge, and that, during the recent coal strike for -example, in granting sweeping, wholesale injunctions against strikers -they have accompanied their decrees at times with opinions so -unjudicial, so filled with mediæval prejudice and rancor against -legitimate organizations of working people as to rouse the indignation -of right-minded men, may be admitted. But prejudice and corruption are -totally dissimilar. There is always hope that an honest though -prejudiced man may in time see reason. This hope inspires patience and -forbearance. Justice can wait with confidence while the prejudiced or -ultra-conservative judge grows wise, and the principles of law are -strongest and surest when they have been established by surmounting the -prejudice and doubts of many timid and over-conservative men. But -justice and human progress should not and will not wait until the -corrupt judge becomes honest. To thoughtful men the severest charge yet -to be made against this new journalism is not merely the influence it -attempts to exert, and perhaps does exert, in particular cases, but -that, wantonly and without just cause, it endeavors to destroy in the -hearts and minds of thousands of newspaper readers a deserved confidence -in the integrity of the courts and a patient faith in the ultimate -triumph of justice by law. - - - - - THE CRITIC AND THE LAW - - BY RICHARD WASHBURN CHILD - - - I - -A recent prosecution by the People of New York, represented by Mr. -Jerome, of a suit for criminal libel, attracted the attention of the -entire nation. The alleged libel set forth in the complaint had appeared -in _Collier’s Weekly_, stating the connection of a certain judge with a -certain unwholesome publication. The defense to this action was that the -statement was true; and, somewhat to the joy of all concerned, excepting -the judge, the unwholesome publication, and those who were exposed in -the course of trial as being its creatures, the jury were obliged to -find that this defense was sound.[9] From a lawyer’s point of view it -was surprising to find that even professional critics and editorial -writers looked upon this case as involving that part of the Common Law -which prescribes the limits of criticism. It only needs to be pointed -out that the statement relied upon as defamation was a statement of -fact, to show that the case against the Collier editors involved no -question of a critic’s right to criticise or an editor’s right to -express his opinion. If the suit had been founded on the criticism of -the contents of the unwholesome publication which had been offered to -the public for those to read who would, then the law of fair comment -would have controlled. No doubt, however, even the trained guides to the -public taste seldom realize the presence of a law governing their -freedom of comment. Such law is in force none the less, and, though the -instinct to express only fair and honest opinion will generally suffice -to prevent a breach of legal limits, it is evident that the -consideration of the law upon the subject is important, not only to the -professional critic, but to any man who has enough opinion on matters of -public interest to be worth an expression. - -Footnote 9: - - The verdict for _Collier’s Weekly_, the defendant, was rendered on - January 26, 1906. Cf. _Collier’s Weekly_, February 10, 1906, vol. 36, - p. 23.—ED. - -It is public policy that the free expression of opinion on matters of -public interest should be as little hampered as possible. Fair comment, -says the law, is the preventive of affectation and folly, the educator -of the public taste and ethics, and the incentive to progress in the -arts. Often fair comment is spoken of as privileged. But privilege in -its legal sense means that some statement is allowed to some particular -person on some particular occasion—a statement that would be libel or -slander unless it came within the realm of privilege. On the other hand, -fair comment is not the right of any particular person or class, or the -privilege of any particular occasion; it is not exclusively the right of -the press or of one who is a critic in the sense that he is an expert. -Doubtless the newspaper or professional critic is given a greater -latitude by juries, who share the prevalent and not ill-advised view -that opinion expressed by the public press is usually more sound than -private comment. The law, however, recognizes no such distinction. Any -one may be a critic. - -In civil actions of defamation, truth in a general way is always a -defense; whether the person against whom the suit is brought has made a -statement of fact or opinion, if he can prove his words to be true, he -is safe from liability. Such was the defense of the Collier editors in -the criminal case mentioned above. Fair comment, however, does not need -to be true to be defended, for it is, if we may use the phrase, its own -defense. Then what is fair comment? - -The right to comment is confined to matters which are of interest to the -public. To endeavor to give a list of matters answering this requirement -would be an endless task; even the courts of England and this country -have passed upon only a few. Instances when the attention, judgment, and -taste of the public are called upon are, however, most frequent in the -fields of politics and of the arts. Such are the acts of those entrusted -with functions of government, the direction of public institutions and -possibly church matters, published books, pictures which have been -exhibited, architecture, theatres, concerts, and public entertainments. -Two reasons prohibit comment upon that which has not become the affair -of the public nor has been offered to the attention of the public:—the -public is not benefited by the criticism of that which it does not know, -and about which it has no concern, and the act of the doer or the work -of the artist against which the comment is directed cannot be said to -have been submitted to open criticism. - -The requirement, which seems right in principle, and which has been laid -down many times in the remarks of English judges, was perhaps overlooked -in Battersby vs. Collier, a New York case. Colonel Battersby, it -appeared, was a veteran of the Civil War, and for six years had been -engaged in painting a picture representing the dramatic meeting of -General Lee and General Grant, at which Colonel Battersby was present. -This painting was intended for exhibition at the Columbian Exposition. -Unfortunately, a few days before Christmas, a young woman of a literary -turn of mind had an opportunity to view this immense canvas, and was -less favorably impressed with the painting than with the pathos -surrounding its inception and development. Accordingly she wrote a story -headed by that handiest of handy titles, _The Colonel’s Christmas_, but -she did not sufficiently conceal the identity of her principal -character. Colonel Battersby sued the publishers, and for damages relied -upon the aspersions cast upon his picture, which in the story was called -a “daub.” More than that, there occurred in the narrative these words: -“What matters it if the Colonel’s ideas of color, light, and shade were -a trifle hazy, if his perspective was a something extraordinary, his -‘breadth’ and ‘treatment’ and ‘tone’ truly marvelous, the Surrender was -a great, vast picture, and it was the Colonel’s life.” The court held -that this was a fair criticism; but it does not plainly appear that -Colonel Battersby had yet submitted his six-year painting to the -attention of the public, or that it had at the time become an object of -general public interest; and if it had not, the decision would seem -doubtful in principle. - -On the other hand, in Gott vs. Pulsifer there was involved the “Cardiff -Giant,” which all remember as the merriest of practical jokes in rock, -which made Harvard scientists rub their eyes and called forth from one -Yale professor a magazine article to prove that the man of stone was the -god Baal brought to New York State by the Phœnicians. The court said -that all manner of abuse might be heaped on the Giant’s adamant head. -“Anything made subject of public exhibition,” said they, “is open to -fair and reasonable comment, no matter how severe.” So you might with -impunity call the Cardiff Giant, or Barnum’s famous long-haired horse, a -hoax; they were objects of general public interest, and any one might -have passed judgment upon them. - -Letters written to a newspaper may be criticised most severely, as often -happens when Constant Reader enters into a warfare of communication with -Old Subscriber; and so long as the contention is free from actionable -personalities, and remains within the bounds of fair comment, neither -will find himself in trouble. Nor is the commercial advertisement immune -from caustic comment, if the comment is sincere. The rhymes in the -street cars, the posters on the fences, the handbill that is thrust over -the domestic threshold, and the signboard, that has now become a factor -in every rural sunset or urban sunrise, must bear the comment upon their -taste, their efficiency, and their ingenuity, which by their very nature -they invite. In England a writer was sued by the maker of a commodity -for travelers advertised as the “Bag of Bags.” The writer thought the -commercial catch-name was silly, vulgar, and ill-conceived, and he said -so. The manufacturer in court urged that the comment injured his trade; -but the judges were inclined to think that an advertisement appealing to -the public was subject to the public opinion and its fair expression. -What is of interest to the general public, so that comment thereon will -be a right of the public, may, however, in certain cases trouble the -jury. A volume of love sonnets printed and circulated privately, and the -architecture of a person’s private dwelling, might furnish very delicate -cases. - -In a time when those who desire to be conspicuous succeed so well in -becoming so, it is rather amusing to wonder just what may be the -difference between the right to comment on the dancer on the stage, and -on the lady who, if she has her way, will sit in a box. Both court -public notice—the dancer by her penciled eyebrows, her tinted cheeks, -her jewelry, her gown, and her grace; the lady in the box, perhaps, by -all these things except the last; both wish favorable comment, and -perhaps ought to bear ridicule, if their cheeks are too tinted, their -eyebrows too penciled, their jewelry too generous, and their gowns too -ornate. A more sober view, however, will show that the matter is one of -proof. The dancer who exhibits herself and her dance for a consideration -necessarily invites expressions of opinion, but it would be difficult to -show in a court of law that the gala lady in the box meant to seek -either commendation—or disapproval. - -A vastly more important and interesting query, and one which must arise -from the present state and tendency of industrial conditions, is whether -the acts of men in commercial activity may ever become so prominent, and -so far-reaching in their effect, that it can well be said that they -compel a universal public interest, and that public comment is impliedly -invited by reason of their conspicuous and semi-public nature. It may be -said that at no time have private industries become of such startling -interest to the community at large as at present in the United States. -At least a few have had an effect more vital to citizens, perhaps, than -the activities of some classes of public officials which are open to -fair comment, and certainly more vital than the management of some -semi-public institutions, which also are open to honest criticism. - -As to corporations, it would seem that, as the public, through the -chartering power of legislation, gives them a right to exist and act, an -argument that the public retains the right to comment upon their -management must have some force; in the case of other forms of -commercial activity, whose powers are inherent and not delegated, the -question must rest on the determination of the best public policy—a -determination which in all classes of cases decides, and ought to -decide, the right of fair comment. - - - II - -When once the comment is decided to be upon a matter of public interest, -there arises the question whether or not the comment is fair. The -requirement of the law in regard to fairness is not based, as might be -supposed, upon the consideration whether comment is mild or severe, -serious or ridiculing, temperate or exaggerated; the critic is not -hampered in the free play of his honest opinions; he is not prohibited -from using the most stinging satire, the most extravagant burlesque, or -the most lacerating invective. - -In 1808, Lord Ellenborough, in Carr vs. Hood, stated the length of leash -given to the critic, and the law has not since been changed. Sir John -Carr, Knight, was the author of several volumes, entitled _A Stranger in -France_, _A Northern Summer_, _A Stranger in Ireland_, and other titles -of equal connotation. Thomas Hood was rather more deserving of a lasting -place in literature than his victim, because of his sense of humor, and -his well-known rapid-fire satire. According to the declaration of Sir -John Carr, the plaintiff, Hood had published a book of burlesque in -which there was a frontispiece entitled “The Knight leaving Ireland with -Regret,” and “containing and representing in the said print, a certain -false, scandalous, malicious and defamatory and ridiculous -representation of said Sir John in the form of a man of ludicrous and -ridiculous appearance holding a pocket handkerchief to his face, and -appearing to be weeping,” and also representing “a malicious and -ridiculous man of ludicrous and ridiculous appearance following the said -Sir John,” and bending under the weight of several books, and carrying a -tied-up pocket handkerchief with “Wardrobe” printed thereon, “thereby -falsely scandalously and maliciously meaning and intending to represent, -for the purpose of rendering the said Sir John ridiculous and exposing -him to laughter, ridicule and contempt,” that the books of the said Sir -John “were so heavy as to cause a man to bend under the weight thereof, -and that his the said Sir John’s wardrobe was very small and capable of -being contained in a pocket handkerchief.” And at the end of this -declaration Sir John alleged that he was damaged because of the -consequent decline in his literary reputation, and, it may be supposed, -because thereafter his books did not appear in the list of the “six -bestsellers” in the Kingdom. - -But no recovery was allowed him, for it was laid down that if a comment, -in whatever form, only ridiculed the plaintiff as an author, there was -no ground for action. Said the eminent justice, “One writer, in exposing -the follies and errors of another, may make use of ridicule, however -poignant. Ridicule is often the fittest weapon for such a purpose.... -Perhaps the plaintiff’s works are now unsalable, but is he to be -indemnified by receiving a compensation from the person who has opened -the eyes of the public to the bad taste and inanity of his -compositions?... We must not cramp observations on authors and their -works.... The critic does a great service to the public who writes down -any vapid or useless publication, such as ought never to have appeared. -He checks the dissemination of bad taste, and prevents people from -wasting both their time and money upon trash. Fair and candid criticism -every one has a right to publish, although the author may suffer a loss -from it. Such a loss the law does not consider an injury, because it is -a loss which the party ought to sustain. It is, in short, the loss of -fame and profits to which he was never entitled.” - -Criticism need not be fair and just, in the sense that it conforms to -the judgment of the majority of the public, or the ideas of a judge, or -the estimate of a jury; but it must remain within certain bounds -circumscribed by the law. - -In the first place, comment must be made honestly; in recent cases much -more stress has been laid upon this point than formerly. It is urged -that, if criticism is not sincere, it is not valuable to the public, and -the ground of public policy, upon which the doctrine of fair criticism -is built, fails to give support to comment which is born of improper -motives or begotten from personal hatred or malice. Yet he who seeks for -cases of criticism which have been decided against the critic solely on -the ground that the critic was malicious must look far. The requirement -in practice seems difficult of application, since, if the critic does -not depart from the work that he is criticising, to strike at the author -thereof as a private individual, and does not mix with his comment false -statements or imputations of bad motives, there is nothing to show legal -malice, and it is almost impossible to prove actual malice. If you -should conclude that your neighbor’s painting which has been on -exhibition is a beautiful marine, but if, because you do not like your -neighbor, you pronounce it to be a dreadful mire of blue paint, it would -be very hard for any other person to prove that at the moment you spoke -you were not speaking honestly. Again, if the comment is within the -other restrictions put by the law upon criticism, it would seem that to -open the question whether or not the comment was malicious, is in effect -very nearly submitting to the jury the question whether or not they -disagree with the critic, since the jury have no other method of -reaching a conclusion that the critic was or was not impelled by malice. - -Malice, in fact, is a bugaboo in the law—and the law, especially the -civil law, avoids dealing with him whenever it can. Yet it is quite -certain that malice must be a consideration in determining what is fair -comment; an opinion which is not honest is of no help to the public in -its striving to attain high morals and unerring discernment. All the -reasons of public policy that give criticism its rights fly out of the -window when malice walks in at the door. - -Some decisions of the courts seem to set the standard of fair comment -even higher. They not only demand that the critic speak with an honest -belief in his opinion, but insist also that a person taking upon himself -to criticise must exercise a reasonable degree of judgment. As one -English judge expressed it in charging the jury: “You must determine -whether any fair man, however exaggerated or obstinate his views, would -have said what this criticism has said.” It would seem, however, that in -many cases this would result in putting the judgment of the jury against -that of the critic. To ask the jury whether this comment is such as -would be made by a fair man is not distinguishable from asking them -whether the comment is fair, and it sometimes happens that, in spite of -the opinion of the jury,—in fact, the opinion of all the world,—the -single critic is right, and the rest of the community all wrong. Does -any one doubt that the comment of Columbus upon the views of those who -opposed him would have been considered unfair by a jury of his time, -until this doughty navigator proved his judgment correct? What would -have happened in a court of law to the man who first said that those who -wrote that the earth was flat were stupidly ignorant? Often the opinion -or criticism which is the most valuable to the community as a -contribution to truth is the very opinion which the community as a body -would call a wild inference by an unfair man; to hold the critic up to -the standard of a “fair man” is to deprive the public of the benefit of -the most powerful influences against the perpetuity of error. - -No better illustration could be found than the case of Merrivale and -Wife _vs._ Carson, in which a dramatic critic said of a play: “_The Whip -Hand_ ... gives us nothing but a hash-up of ingredients which have been -used _ad nauseam_, until one rises in protestation against the loving, -confiding, fatuous husband with the naughty wife, and her double -existence, the good male genius, the limp aristocrat, and the villainous -foreigner. And why dramatic authors will insist that in modern society -comedies the villain must be a foreigner, and the foreigner must be a -villain, is only explicable on the ground that there is more or less -romance about such gentry. It is more in consonance with accepted -notions that your continental croupier would make a much better -fictitious prince, marquis, or count, than would, say, an English -billiard-maker or stable lout. And so the Marquis Colonna in _The Whip -Hand_ is offered up by the authors upon the altar of tradition, and -sacrificed in the usual manner when he gets too troublesome to permit of -the reconciliation of husband and wife and lover and maiden, and is -proved, also much as usual, to be nothing more than a kicked-out -croupier.” - -The jury found that this amounted to falsely setting out the drama as -adulterous and immoral, and was not the criticism of a fair man. -Granting that there was the general imputation of immorality, it seems, -justly considered, a matter of the critic’s opinion. Is not the critic -in effect saying, “To my mind the play is adulterous; no matter what any -one else may think, the play suggests immorality to me”? And if this is -the honest opinion of the critic, no matter how much juries may differ -from him, it would seem that to stifle this individual expression was -against public policy, the very ground on which fair criticism becomes a -universal right. It does not very clearly appear that the case of -Merrivale and Wife _vs._ Carson was decided exclusively on the question -whether the criticism was that of a fair man, but this was the leading -point of the case. The decision and the doctrine it sets forth seem open -to much doubt. - - - III - -Criticism must never depart from a consideration of the work of the -artist or artisan, or the public acts of a person, to attack the -individual himself, apart from his connection with the particular work -or act which is being criticised. The critic is forbidden to touch upon -the domestic or private life of the individual, or upon such matters -concerning the individual as are not of general public interest, at the -peril of exceeding his right. Whereas, in Fry vs. Bennett, an article in -a newspaper purported to criticise the management of a theatrical -troupe, it was held to contain a libel, since it went beyond matters -which concerned the public, and branded the conduct of the manager -toward his singers as unjust and oppressive. - -J. Fenimore Cooper was plaintiff in another suit which illustrates the -same rule of law. This author had many a gallant engagement with his -critics, and, though it has been said that a man who is his own lawyer -has a fool for a client, Mr. Cooper, conducting his own actions, won -from many publishers, including Mr. Horace Greeley and Mr. Webb. In -Cooper vs. Stone the facts reveal that the author, having completed a -voluminous _Naval History of the United States_, in which he had given -the lion’s share of credit for the Battle of Lake Erie, not to the -commanding officer, Oliver H. Perry, but to Jesse D. Elliot, who was a -subordinate, was attacked by the _New York Commercial Advertiser_, which -imputed to the author “a disregard of justice and propriety as a man,” -represented him as infatuated with vanity, mad with passion, and -publishing as true, statements and evidence which had been falsified and -encomiums which had been retracted. This was held to exceed the limits -of fair criticism, since it attacked the character of the author as well -as the book itself. - -The line, however, is not very finely drawn, as may be seen by a -comparison of the above case with Browning vs. Van Rensselaer, in which -the plaintiff was the author of a genealogical treatise entitled -_Americans of Royal Descent_. A young woman, who was interested in -founding a society to be called the “Order of the Crown,” wrote to the -defendant, inviting her to join and recommending to her the book. The -latter answered this letter with a polite refusal, saying that she -thought such a society was un-American and pretentious, and that the -book gave no authority for its statements. The court said that this, -even though it implied that the author was at fault, was not a personal -attack on his private character. - -An intimate relationship almost always exists between the doer of an act -which interests the public and the act itself; the architect is closely -associated with his building, the painter with his picture, the author -with his works, the inventor with his patent, the tradesman with his -advertisement, and the singer with his song; and the critic will find it -impossible not to encroach to some extent upon the personality of the -individual. It seems, however, that the privilege of comment extends to -the individual only so far as is necessary to intelligent criticism of -his particular work under discussion. To write that Mr. Palet’s latest -picture shows that some artists are only fit to paint signs is a comment -on the picture, but to write, apart from comment upon the particular -work, that Mr. Palet is only fit to paint signs is an attack upon the -artist, and if it is untrue, it is libel for which the law allows -recovery. - -No case presents a more complete confusion of the individual and his -work than that of an actor. His physical characteristics, as well as his -personality, may always be said to be presented to general public -interest along with the words and movements which constitute his acting. -The critic can hardly speak of the performance without speaking of the -actor himself, who, it may be argued, presents to a certain extent his -own bodily and mental characteristics to the judgment of the public, -almost as much as do the ossified man and the fat lady of the side show. - -The case of Cherry _vs._ the _Des Moines Leader_ will serve to -illustrate how far the critic who is not actuated by malice may comment -upon the actors as well as the performance, and still be held to have -remained within the limits of fair criticism. The three Cherry sisters -were performers in a variety act, which consisted in part of a burlesque -on _Trilby_, and a more serious presentation entitled, _The Gypsy’s -Warning_. The judge stated that in his opinion the evidence showed that -the performance was ridiculous. The testimony of Miss Cherry included a -statement that one of the songs was a “sort of eulogy on ourselves,” and -that the refrain consisted of these words:— - - “Cherries ripe and cherries red; - The Cherry Sisters are still ahead.” - -She also stated that in _The Gypsy’s Warning_ she had taken the part of -a Spaniard or a cavalier, and that she always supposed a Spaniard and a -cavalier were one and the same thing. The defendant published the -following comment on the performance: “Effie is an old jade of fifty -summers, Jessie a frisky filly of forty, and Addie, the flower of the -family, a capering monstrosity of thirty-five. Their long, skinny arms, -equipped with talons at the extremities, swung mechanically, and anon -waved frantically at the suffering audience. The mouths of their rancid -features opened like caverns, and sounds like the wailings of damned -souls issued therefrom. They pranced around the stage with a motion that -suggested a cross between the _danse du ventre_ and fox-trot—strange -creatures with painted faces and hideous mien.” This was held to be fair -criticism and not libelous; for the Misses Cherry to a certain extent -presented their personal appearance as a part of their performance. - -The critic must not mix with his comment statement of facts which are -not true, since the statement of facts is not criticism at all. In -Tabbart _vs._ Tipper, the earliest case on the subject, the defendant, -in order to ridicule a book published for children, printed a verse -which purported to be an extract from the book, and it was held that -this amounted to a false accusation that the author had published -something which in fact he had never published; it was not comment, but -an untrue statement of fact. So when, as in Davis _vs._ Shepstone, the -critic, in commenting upon the acts of a government official in -Zululand, falsely stated that the officer had been guilty of an assault -upon a native chief, the critic went far beyond comment, and was liable -for defamation. Not unlike Tabbart _vs._ Tipper is a recent case, -Belknap _vs._ Ball. The defendant, during a political campaign, printed -in his newspaper a coarsely executed imitation of the handwriting of a -political candidate of the opposing party, and an imitation of his -signature appeared beneath. The writing contained this misspelled, -unrhetorical sentence: “I don’t propose to go into debate on the tariff -differences on wool, quinine, and such, because I ain’t built that way.” -Readers were led to believe that this was a signed statement by the -candidate, and the newspaper was barred from setting up the plea that -the writing was only fair criticism made through the means of a -burlesque; it was held that imputing to the plaintiff something he had -never written amounted to a false statement of fact, and was not within -fair comment. - -The dividing line between opinion and statement of fact is, however, -most troublesome. Mr. Odgers, in his excellent work on _Libel and -Slander_, remarks that the rule for the distinction between the two -should be that “if facts are known to hearers or readers or made known -by the writer, and their opinion or criticism refers to these true -facts, even if it is a statement in form, it is no less an opinion. But -if the statement simply stands alone, it is not defended.” Applying this -rule, what if a critic makes this simple statement: “The latest book of -Mr. Anonymous is of interest to no intelligent man”? According to the -opinion of Mr. Odgers, it would seem that such a sentence standing alone -was a statement of fact, whereas it is manifest that no one can think -that the critic meant to say more than that in his opinion the book was -not interesting. In Merrivale and Wife _vs._ Carson, the jury found that -the words used by the critic described the play as adulterous, and the -court said that this was a misdescription of the play—a false statement -of fact; but an adulterous play may be one which is only suggestive of -adultery; and even if the critic had baldly said that the play was -adulterous, many of us would think that he was only expressing his -opinion. - -Since the test of whether the statement is of opinion or of fact lies, -not in what the critic secretly intended, but rather in what the hearer -or reader understood, the question is for the jury, and, it seems, -should be presented to them by the court in the form: “Would a -reasonable man under the circumstances have understood this to be a -statement of opinion or of fact?” - -One other care remains for the critic: he must not falsely impute a bad -motive to the individual when commenting upon his work. No less a critic -than Ruskin was held to have made this mistake in the instance of his -criticism of one of Mr. Whistler’s pictures. This well-known libel case -may be found reported in the _Times_ for November 26 and 27, 1878. “The -mannerisms and errors of these pictures,” wrote Mr. Ruskin, alluding to -the pictures of Mr. Burne-Jones, “whatever may be their extent, are -never affected or indolent. The work is natural to the painter, however -strange to us, and is wrought with utmost care, however far, to his own -or our desire, the result may yet be incomplete. Scarcely as much can be -said for any other picture in the modern school; their eccentricities -are almost always in some degree forced, and their imperfections -gratuitously if not impertinently indulged. For Mr. Whistler’s own sake, -no less than for the protection of the purchaser, Sir Coutts Lindsay -ought not to have admitted works into the gallery in which the -ill-educated conceit of the artist so nearly approached the aspect of -wilful imposture. I have seen and heard much of cockney impudence before -now, but never expected to hear a coxcomb ask 200 guineas for flinging a -pot of paint in the public’s face.” - -Out of all this, stinging as it must have been to Mr. Whistler, unless, -since he loved enemies and hated friends, he therefore found pleasure in -the metaphorical thrashings he received, the jury could find only one -phrase, “wilful imposture,” which, because it imputed bad motives, -overstepped the bounds of fair criticism. - -Mr. Odgers’s treatise states the rule to be that “When no ground is -assigned for an inference of bad motives, or when the writer states the -imputation of bad motives as a fact within his knowledge, then he is -only protected if the imputation is true. But when the facts are set -forth, together with the inference, and the reader may judge of the -right or wrong of the opinion or inference, then if the facts are true, -the writer is protected.” It is, however, difficult to see why the -imputation of bad motives in the doer of an act or the creator of a work -of art should in any case come under the right of fair comment, for, no -matter how bad the motives of the individual may be, they are of no -consequence to the public. If a book is immoral, it is immaterial to a -fair criticism whether or not the author meant it to have an immoral -effect; the public is not helped to a proper judgment of the book by any -one’s opinion of the motives of the author, and if the book is bad in -its effect, it makes it no better that the author was impelled by the -best of intentions, or it makes it no worse that the author was acting -with the most evil designs. And if, as in most of the cases that have -arisen, the imputation is one of insincerity, fraud, or deception -practiced upon the public,—where, for example, the critic, in commenting -upon a medical treatise, about which he had made known all the facts, -said that he thought the author wrote the book, not in the interest of -scientific truth, but rather to draw trade by exploiting theories which -he did not believe himself,—it would seem that this charge of fraud or -deception should not be protected as a piece of fair comment, but that -it should be put upon an equality with all other imputations against an -individual, which if untrue and damaging would be held to be libel or -slander. Under Mr. Odgers’s rule, in making a comment upon the acts of a -public officer, one could say, “In pardoning six criminals last week the -governor of the province, we think, has shown that he wishes to -encourage criminality.” No court would, we think, hold this to be within -the right of fair comment upon public matters. If the critic had said, -however, “We think that the governor of the province, in pardoning six -criminals, encouraged criminality,” all the true value of criticism -remains, and the imputation that the public officer acted from an evil -motive is stripped away. The best view seems to be that the right of -fair comment will not shield the false imputations of bad motive. - -Whether or not the critic may impute to the individual certain opinions -does not seem to be settled, but logically this would be quite as much a -statement of fact, or a criticism directed at the individual, as an -imputation of bad motives. A few courts in this country have expressed a -leaning to the opposite view, but the ground upon which they place their -opinion does not appear. - -From the legal point of view, then, we as critics are all held to a high -standard of fairness. We must not comment upon any but matters of public -interest. We must be honest and sincere, but we may express any view, no -matter how prejudiced or exaggerated it may be, so long as it does not -exceed the limits to which a reasonably fair man would go; we must not -attack the individual any more than is consistent with a criticism of -that which he makes or does, and we must not expect that we are within -our right of comment when we make statements of fact or impute to the -individual evil motives. - -All the world asks the critic to be honest, careful, above spite and -personalities, and polite enough not to thrust upon us a consideration -in which we have no interest. The law demands no more. - - - - - HONEST LITERARY CRITICISM - - BY CHARLES MINER THOMPSON - - - I - -There are five groups interested in literary criticism: publishers of -books, authors, publishers of reviews, critics, and, finally, the -reading public. - -An obvious interest of all the groups but the last is financial. For the -publisher of books, although he may have his pride, criticism is -primarily an advertisement: he hopes that his books will be so praised -as to commend them to buyers. For the publisher of book-reviews, -although he also may have his pride, criticism is primarily an -attraction for advertisements: he hopes that his reviews will lead -publishers of books to advertise in his columns. For the critic, -whatever his ideals, criticism is, in whole or in part, his livelihood. -For the author, no matter how disinterested, criticism is -reputation—perhaps a reputation that can be coined. In respect of this -financial interest, all four are opposed to the public, which wants -nothing but competent service—a guide to agreeable reading, an adviser -in selecting gifts, a herald of new knowledge, a giver of intellectual -delight. - -All five groups are discontented with the present condition of American -criticism. - -Publishers of books complain that reviews do not help sales. Publishers -of magazines lament that readers do not care for articles on literary -subjects. Publishers of newspapers frankly doubt the interest of -book-notices. The critic confesses that his occupation is ill-considered -and ill-paid. The author wrathfully exclaims—but what he exclaims cannot -be summarized, so various is it. Thus, the whole commercial interest is -unsatisfied. The public, on the other hand, finds book-reviews of little -service and reads them, if at all, with indifference, with distrust, or -with exasperation. That part of the public which appreciates criticism -as an art maintains an eloquent silence and reads French. - -Obviously, what frets the commercial interest is the public indifference -to book-reviews. What is the cause of that? - -In critical writing, what is the base of interest, the indispensable -foundation in comparison with which all else is superstructure? I -mentioned the public which, appreciating criticism as an art, turns from -America to France for what it craves. Our sympathies respond to the call -of our own national life, and may not be satisfied by Frenchmen; if we -turn to them, we do so for some attraction which compensates for the -absence of intimate relation to our needs. What is it? Of course, French -mastery of form accounts in part for our intellectual absenteeism; but -it does not account for it wholly, not, I think, even in the main. - -Consider the two schools of French criticism typified by Brunetière and -by Anatole France. Men like Brunetière seem to believe that what they -say is important, not merely to fellow dilettanti or to fellow scholars, -but to the public and to the mass of the public; they seem to write, not -to display their attainments, but to use their attainments to accomplish -their end; they put their whole strength, intellectual and moral, into -their argument; they seek to make converts, to crush enemies. They are -in earnest; they feel responsible; they take their office with high -seriousness. They seem to think that the soul and the character of the -people are as important as its economic comfort. The problem of a -contemporary, popular author—even if contemporary, even if popular—is to -them an important question; the intellectual, moral, and æsthetic ideals -which he is spreading through the country are to be tested rigorously, -then applauded or fought. They seek to be clear because they wish to -interest; they wish to interest because they wish to convince; they wish -to convince because they have convictions which they believe should -prevail. - -The men like Anatole France—if there are any others like Anatole -France—have a different philosophy of life. They are doubtful of -endeavor, doubtful of progress, doubtful of new schools of art, doubtful -of new solutions whether in philosophy or economics; but they have a -quick sensitiveness to beauty and a profound sympathy with suffering -man. Not only do they face their doubts, but they make their readers -face them. They do not pretend; they do not conceal; they flatter no -conventions and no prejudices; they are sincere. Giving themselves -without reserve, they do not speak what they think will please you, but -rather try with all their art to please you with what they think. - -In the French critics of both types—the men like Brunetière, the men -like Anatole France—there is this common, this invaluable -characteristic,—I mean intellectual candor. That is their great -attraction; that is the foundation of interest. - -Intellectual candor does not mark American criticism. The fault is -primarily the publisher’s. It lies in the fundamental mistake that he -makes in the matter of publicity. Each publisher, that is, treats each -new book as if it were the only one that he had ever published, were -publishing, or ever should publish. He gives all his efforts to seeing -that it is praised. He repeats these exertions with some success for -each book that he prints. Meanwhile, every other publisher is doing as -much for every new book of his own. The natural result follows—a -monotony of praise which permits no books to stand out, and which, -however plausible in the particular instance, is, in the mass, -incredible. - -But how is it that the publisher’s fiat produces praise? The answer is -implicit in the fact that criticism is supported, not by the public, but -by the publisher. Upon the money which the publisher of books is ready -to spend for advertising depends the publisher of book-reviews; upon him -in turn depends the critic. - -Between the publisher of books anxious for favorable reviews and willing -to spend money, and the publisher of a newspaper anxious for -advertisements and supporting a dependent critic, the chance to trade is -perfect. Nothing sordid need be said or, indeed, perceived; all may be -left to the workings of human nature. Favorable reviews are printed, -advertisements are received; and no one, not even the principals, need -be certain that the reviews are not favorable because the books are -good, or that the advertisements are not given because the comment is -competent and just. Nevertheless, the Silent Bargain has been decorously -struck. Once reached, it tends of itself to become ever more close, -intimate, and inclusive. The publisher of books is continuously tempted -to push his advantage with the complaisant publisher of a newspaper; the -publisher of a newspaper is continuously tempted to pitch ever higher -and still higher the note of praise. - -But the Silent Bargain is not made with newspapers only. Obviously, -critics can say nothing without the consent of some publisher; -obviously, their alternatives are silence or submission. They who write -for the magazines are wooed to constant surrender; they must, or they -think that they must, be tender of all authors who have commercial -relations with the house that publishes the periodical to which they are -contributing. Even they who write books are not exempt; they must, or -they feel that they must, deal gently with reputations commercially dear -to their publisher. If the critic is timid, or amiable, or intriguing, -or struck with poverty, he is certain, whatever his rank, to dodge, to -soften, to omit whatever he fears may displease the publisher on whom he -depends. Selfish considerations thus tend ever to emasculate criticism; -criticism thus tends ever to assume more and more nearly the most -dishonest and exasperating form of advertisement, that of the “reading -notice” which presents itself as sincere, spontaneous testimony. -Disingenuous criticism tends in its turn to puzzle and disgust the -public—and to hurt the publisher. The puff is a boomerang. - -Its return blow is serious; it would be fatal, could readers turn away -wholly from criticism. What saves the publisher is that they cannot. -They have continuous, practical need of books, and must know about them. -The multitudinous paths of reading stretch away at every angle, and the -traveling crowd must gather and guess and wonder about the guide-post -criticism, even if each finger, contradicting every other, points to its -own road as that “To Excellence.” - -Wayfarers in like predicament would question one another. It is so with -readers. Curiously enough, publishers declare that their best -advertising flows from this private talk. They all agree that, whereas -reviews sell nothing, the gossip of readers sells much. Curiously, I -say; for this gossip is not under their control; it is as often adverse -as favorable; it kills as much as it sells. Moreover, when it kills, it -kills in secret; it leaves the bewildered publisher without a clue to -the culprit or his motive. How, then, can it be superior to the -controlled, considerate flattery of the public press? It is odd that -publishers never seriously ask themselves this question, for the answer, -if I have it, is instructive. The dictum of the schoolgirl that a novel -is “perfectly lovely” or “perfectly horrid,” comes from the heart. The -comment of society women at afternoon tea, the talk of business men at -the club, if seldom of much critical value, is sincere. In circles in -which literature is loved, the witty things which clever men and clever -women say about books are inspired by the fear neither of God nor of -man. In circles falsely literary, parrot talk and affectation hold sway, -but the talkers have an absurd faith in one another. In short, all -private talk about books bears the stamp of sincerity. That is what -makes the power of the spoken word. It is still more potent when it -takes the form, not of casual mention, but of real discussion. When -opinions differ, talk becomes animated, warm, continuous. Listeners are -turned into partisans. A lively, unfettered dispute over a book by witty -men, no matter how prejudiced, or by clever women, no matter how -unlearned, does not leave the listener indifferent. He is tempted to -read that book. - -Now, what the publisher needs in order to print with financial profit -the best work and much work, is the creation of a wide general interest -in literature. This vastly transcends in importance the fate of any one -book or group of books. Instead, then, of trying to start in the public -press a chorus of stupid praise, why should he not endeavor to obtain a -reproduction of what he acknowledges that his experience has taught him -is his main prop and support—the frank word, the unfettered dispute of -private talk? Let him remember what has happened when the vivacity of -public opinion has forced this reproduction. It is history that those -works have been best advertised over which critics have fought—Hugo’s -dramas, Wagner’s music, Whitman’s poems, Zola’s novels, Mrs. Stowe’s -_Uncle Tom_. - -Does it not all suggest the folly of the Silent Bargain? - -I have spoken always of tendencies. Public criticism never has been and -never will be wholly dishonest, even when in the toils of the Silent -Bargain; it never has been and never will be wholly honest, even with -that cuttlefish removed. But if beyond cavil it tended towards -sincerity, the improvement would be large. In the measure of that -tendency it would gain the public confidence without which it can -benefit no one—not even the publisher. For his own sake he should do -what he can to make the public regard the critic, not as a mere -megaphone for his advertisements, but as an honest man who speaks his -honest mind. To this end, he should deny his foolish taste for praise, -and, even to the hurt of individual ventures, use his influence to -foster independence in the critic. - -In the way of negative help, he should cease to tempt lazy and -indifferent reviewers with ready-made notices, the perfunctory and -insincere work of some minor employee; he should stop sending out, as -“literary” notes, thinly disguised advertisements and irrelevant -personalities; he should no longer supply photographs of his authors in -affected poses that display their vanity much and their talent not at -all. That vulgarity he should leave to those who have soubrettes to -exploit; he should not treat his authors as if they were variety -artists—unless, indeed, they are just that, and he himself on the level -of the manager of a low vaudeville house. These cheap devices lower his -dignity as a publisher, they are a positive hurt to the reputation of -his authors, they make less valuable to him the periodical that prints -them, and they are an irritation and an insult to the critic, for, one -and all, they are attempts to insinuate advertising into his honest -columns. Frankly, they are modes of corruption, and degrade the whole -business of writing. - -In the way of positive help, he should relieve of every commercial -preoccupation, not only the editors and contributors of any magazines -that he may control, but also those authors of criticism and critical -biography whose volumes he may print. Having cleaned his own house, he -should steadily demand of the publications in which he advertises, a -higher grade of critical writing, and should select the periodicals to -which to send his books for notice, not according to the partiality, but -according to the ability of their reviews. Thus he would do much to make -others follow his own good example. - - - II - -What of the author? In respect of criticism, the publisher, of course, -has no absolute rights, not even that of having his books noticed at -all. His interests only have been in question, and, in the long run and -in the mass, these will not be harmed, but benefited, by criticism -honestly adverse. He has in his writers a hundred talents, and if his -selection is shrewd most of them bring profit. Frank criticism will but -help the task of judicious culling. But all that has been said assumes -the cheerful sacrifice of the particular author who must stake his all -upon his single talent. Does his comparative helplessness give him any -right to tender treatment? - -It does not; in respect of rights his, precisely, is the predicament of -the publisher. If an author puts forth a book for sale, he obviously can -be accorded no privilege incompatible with the right of the public to -know its value. He cannot ask to have the public fooled for his benefit; -he cannot ask to have his feelings saved, if to save them the critic -must neglect to inform his readers. That is rudimentary. Nor may the -author argue more subtly that, until criticism is a science and truth -unmistakable, he should be given the benefit of the doubt. This was the -proposition behind the plea, strongly urged not so long ago, that all -criticism should be “sympathetic”; that is, that the particular critic -is qualified to judge those writers only whom, on the whole, he likes. -Love, it was declared, is the only key to understanding. The obvious -value of the theory to the Silent Bargain accounts for its popularity -with the commercial interests. Now, no one can quarrel with the -criticism of appreciation—it is full of charm and service; but to -pretend that it should be the only criticism is impertinent and vain. To -detect the frivolity of such a pretension, one has only to apply it to -public affairs; imagine a political campaign in which the candidates -were criticised only by their friends! No; the critic should attack -whatever he thinks is bad, and he is quite as likely to be right when he -does so as when he applauds what he thinks is good. In a task wherein -the interest of the public is the one that every time and all the time -should be served, mercy to the author is practically always a betrayal. -To the public, neither the vanity nor the purse of the author is of the -slightest consequence. Indeed, a criticism powerful enough to curb the -conceit of some authors, and to make writing wholly unprofitable to -others, would be an advantage to the public, to really meritorious -authors, and to the publisher. - -And the publisher—to consider his interests again for a moment—would -gain not merely by the suppression of useless, but by the discipline of -spoiled, writers. For the Silent Bargain so works as to give to many an -author an exaggerated idea of his importance. It leads the publisher -himself—what with his complaisant reviewers, his literary notes, his -personal paragraphs, his widely distributed photographs—to do all that -he can to turn the author’s head. Sometimes he succeeds. When the -spoiled writer, taking all this _au grand sérieux_, asks why sales are -not larger, then how hard is the publisher pressed for an answer! If the -author chooses to believe, not the private but the public statement of -his merit, and bases upon it either a criticism of his publisher’s -energy or a demand for further publishing favors,—increase of -advertising, higher royalties, what not,—the publisher is in a -ridiculous and rather troublesome quandary. None but the initiated know -what he has occasionally to endure from the arrogance of certain -writers. Here fearless criticism should help him much. - -But if the conceit of some authors offends, the sensitiveness of others -awakens sympathy. The author does his work in solitude; his material is -his own soul; his anxiety about a commercial venture is complicated with -the apprehension of the recluse who comes forth into the market-place -with his heart upon his sleeve. Instinctively he knows that, as his book -is himself, or at least a fragment of himself, criticism of it is truly -criticism of him, not of his intellectual ability merely, but of his -essential character, his real value as a man. Let no one laugh until he -has heard and survived the most intimate, the least friendly comment -upon his own gifts and traits, made in public for the delectation of his -friends and acquaintances and of the world at large. Forgivably enough, -the author is of all persons the one most likely to be unjust to critics -and to criticism. In all ages he has made bitter counter-charges, and -flayed the critics as they have flayed him. His principal complaints are -three: first, that all critics are disappointed authors; second, that -many are young and incompetent, or simply incompetent; third, that they -do not agree. Let us consider them in turn. - -Although various critics write with success other things than criticism, -the first complaint is based, I believe, upon what is generally a fact. -It carries two implications: the first, that one cannot competently -judge a task which he is unable to perform himself; the second, that the -disappointed author is blinded by jealousy. As to the first, no writer -ever refrained out of deference to it from criticising, or even -discharging, his cook. As to the second, jealousy does not always blind: -sometimes it gives keenness of vision. The disappointed author turned -critic may indeed be incompetent; but, if he is so, it is for reasons -that his disappointment does not supply. If he is able, his -disappointment will, on the contrary, help his criticism. He will have a -wholesome contempt for facile success; he will measure by exacting -standards. Moreover, the thoughts of a talented man about an art for the -attainment of which he has striven to the point of despair are certain -to be valuable; his study of the masters has been intense; his study of -his contemporaries has had the keenness of an ambitious search for the -key to success. His criticism, even if saturated with envy, will have -value. In spite of all that partisans of sympathetic criticism may say, -hatred and malice may give as much insight into character as love. -Sainte-Beuve was a disappointed author, jealous of the success of -others. - -But ability is necessary. Envy and malice, not reinforced by talent, can -win themselves small satisfaction, and do no more than transient harm; -for then they work at random and make wild and senseless charges. To be -dangerous to the author, to be valuable to the public, to give pleasure -to their possessor, they must be backed by acuteness to perceive and -judgment to proclaim real flaws only. The disappointed critic of ability -knows that the truth is what stings, and if he seeks disagreeable truth, -at least he seeks truth. He knows also that continual vituperation is as -dull as continual praise; if only to give relief to his censure, he will -note what is good. He will mix honey with the gall. So long as he speaks -truth, he does a useful work, and his motives are of no consequence to -any one but himself. Even if he speaks it with unnecessary roughness, -the author cannot legitimately complain. Did he suppose that he was -sending his book into a world of gentlemen only? Truth is truth, and a -boor may have it. That the standard of courtesy is sometimes hard to -square with that of perfect sincerity is the dilemma of the critic; but -the author can quarrel with the fact no more than with the circumstance -that in a noisy world he can write best where there is quiet. If he -suffers, let him sift criticism through his family; consoling himself, -meanwhile, with the reflection that there is criticism of criticism, and -that any important critic will ultimately know his pains. Leslie Stephen -was so sensitive that he rarely read reviews of his critical writings. -After all, the critic is also an author. - -The second complaint of writers, that criticism is largely young and -incompetent,—or merely incompetent,—is well founded. The reason lies in -the general preference of publishers for criticism that is laudatory -even if absurd. Again we meet the Silent Bargain. The commercial -publisher of book-reviews, realizing that any fool can praise a book, is -apt to increase his profits by lowering the wage of his critic. At its -extreme point, his thrift requires a reviewer of small brains and less -moral courage; such a man costs less and is unlikely ever to speak with -offensive frankness. Thus it happens that, commonly in the newspapers -and frequently in periodicals of some literary pretension, the writers -of reviews are shiftless literary hacks, shallow, sentimental women, or -crude young persons full of indiscriminate enthusiasm for all printed -matter. - -I spoke of the magazines. When their editors say that literary papers -are not popular, do they consider what writers they admit to the work, -with what payment they tempt the really competent, what limitations they -impose upon sincerity? Do they not really mean that the amiable in -manner or the remote in subject, which alone they consider expedient, is -not popular? Do they really believe that a brilliant writer, neither a -dilettante nor a Germanized scholar, uttering with fire and conviction -his full belief, would not interest the public? Do they doubt that such -a writer could be found, if sought? The reviews which they do print are -not popular; but that proves nothing in respect of better reviews. -Whatever the apparent limitations of criticism, it actually takes the -universe for its province. In subject it is as protean as life itself; -in manner it may be what you will. To say, then, that neither American -writers nor American readers can be found for it is to accuse the nation -of a poverty of intellect so great as to be incredible. No; commercial -timidity, aiming always to produce a magazine so inoffensive as to -insinuate itself into universal tolerance, is the fundamental cause of -the unpopularity of the average critical article; how can the public -fail to be indifferent to what lacks life, appositeness to daily needs, -conviction, intellectual and moral candor? At least one reason why we -have no Brunetière is that there is almost no periodical in which such a -man may write. - -In the actual, not the possible, writers of our criticism there is, in -the lower ranks, a lack of skill, of seriousness, of reasonable -competence, and a cynical acceptance of the dishonest rôle they are -expected to play; in the higher ranks, there is a lack of any vital -message, a desire rather to win, without offending the publisher, the -approval of the ultra-literary and the scholarly, than really to reach -and teach the public. It is this degradation, this lack of earnestness, -and not lack of inherent interest in the general topic, which makes our -critical work unpopular, and deprives the whole literary industry of -that quickening and increase of public interest from which alone can -spring a vigorous and healthy growth. This feebleness will begin to -vanish the moment that the publishers of books, who support criticism, -say peremptorily that reviews that interest, not reviews that puff, are -what they want. When they say this, that is the kind of reviews they -will get. If that criticism indeed prove interesting, it will then be -printed up to the value of the buying power of the public, and it will -be supported where it should be—not by the publisher but by the people. -It is said in excuse that, as a city has the government, so the public -has the criticism, which it deserves. That is debatable; but, even so, -to whose interest is it that the taste of the public should be improved? -Honest criticism addressed to the public, by writers who study how to -interest it rather than how to flatter the producers of books, would -educate. The education of readers, always the soundest investment of the -publisher, can never be given by servile reviewers feebly echoing his -own interested advertisements. They are of no value—to the public, the -publisher, or the author. - -The publisher of a newspaper of which reviews are an incident need not, -however, wait for the signal. If, acting on the assumption that his duty -is, not to the publisher but to the public, he will summon competent and -earnest reviewers to speak the truth as they see it, he will infallibly -increase the vivacity and interest of his articles and the pleasure and -confidence of his readers. He will not have any permanent loss of -advertising. Whenever he establishes his periodical as one read by -lovers of literature, he has the publishers at his mercy. But suppose -that his advertising decreases? Let him not make the common mistake of -measuring the value of a department by the amount of related advertising -that it attracts. The general excellence of his paper as an advertising -medium—supposing he has no aim beyond profit—is what he should seek. The -public which reads and enjoys books is worth attracting, even if the -publisher does not follow, for it buys other things than books. - -If, however, his newspaper is not one that can please people of literary -tastes, he will get book-advertising only in negligible quantities no -matter how much he may praise the volumes sent him. Of what use are -puffs which fall not under the right eyes? - -If, again, his periodical seems an exception to this reasoning, and his -puffery appears to bring him profit, let him consider the parts of it -unrelated to literature; he will find there matter which pleases readers -of intelligence, and he may be sure that this, quite as much as his -praise, is what brings the publishers’ advertisements; he may be sure -that, should he substitute sincere criticism, the advertisements would -increase. - - - III - -The third complaint of the author—from whom I have wandered—is that -critics do not agree. To argue that whenever two critics hold different -opinions, the criticism of one of them must be valueless, is absurd. The -immediate question is, valueless to whom—to the public or to the author? - -If the author is meant, the argument assumes that criticism is written -for the instruction of the author, which is not true. Grammar and facts -a critic can indeed correct; but he never expects to change an author’s -style or make his talent other than it is. Though he may lash the man, -he does not hope to reform him. However slightly acquainted with -psychology, the critic knows that a mature writer does not change and -cannot change; his character is made, his gifts, such as they are, are -what they are. On the contrary, the critic writes to influence the -public—to inform the old, to train the young. He knows that his chief -chance is with plastic youth; he hopes to form the future writer; still -more he hopes to form the future reader. He knows that the effect of -good reviewing stops not with the books reviewed, but influences the -reader’s choice among thousands of volumes as yet undreamed of by any -publisher. - -If, on the other hand, the public is meant, the argument assumes that -one man’s meat is not another man’s poison. The bird prefers seed, and -the dog a bone, and there is no standard animal food. Nor, likewise, is -there any standard intellectual food: both critics, however they -disagree, may be right. - -No author, no publisher, should think that variety invalidates -criticism. If there is any certainty about critics, it is that they will -not think alike. The sum of _x_ (a certain book) plus _y_ (a certain -critic) can never be the same as _x_ (the same book) plus _z_ (a -different critic). A given book cannot affect a man of a particular -ability, temperament, training, as it affects one of a different -ability, temperament, and training. A book is never complete without a -reader, and the value of the combination is all that can be found out. -For the value of a book is varying: it varies with the period, with the -nationality, with the character of the reader. Shakespeare had one value -for the Elizabethans; he has a different value for us, and still another -for the Frenchman; he has a special value for the playgoer, and a -special value for the student in his closet. In respect of literary art, -pragmatism is right: there is no truth, there are truths. About all -vital writing there is a new truth born with each new reader. Therein -lies the unending fascination of books, the temptation to infinite -discussion. To awaken an immortal curiosity is the glory of genius. - -From all this it follows that critics are representative; each one -stands for a group of people whose spokesman he has become, because he -has, on the whole, their training, birth from their class, the -prejudices of their community and of their special group in that -community, and therefore expresses their ideals. Once let publisher and -author grasp this idea, and criticism, however divergent, will come to -have a vital meaning for them. The publisher can learn from the judgment -of the critic what the judgment of his group in the community is likely -to be, and from a succession of such judgments through a term of years, -he can gain valuable information as to the needs, the tastes, the ideals -of the public, or of the group of publics, which he may wish to serve. -Accurate information straight from writers serving the public—that, I -cannot too often repeat, is worth more to him than any amount of -obsequious praise. That precisely is what he cannot get until all -critics are what they should be—lawyers whose only clients are their own -convictions. - -The author also gains. Although he is always liable to the -disappointment of finding that his book has failed to accomplish his -aim, he nevertheless can draw the sting from much adverse criticism if -he will regard, not its face value, but its representative value. He is -writing for a certain audience; the criticism of that audience only, -then, need count. If he has his own public with him, he is as safe as a -man on an island viewing a storm at sea, no matter how critics -representing other publics may rage. Not all the adverse comment in this -country on E. P. Roe, in England on Ouida, in France on Georges Ohnet -ever cost them a single reader. Their audience heard it not; it did not -count. There is, of course, a difference of value in publics, and if -these writers had a tragedy, it lay in their not winning the audience of -their choice. But this does not disturb the statement as to the vanity -of adverse criticism for an author who hears objurgations from people -whom he did not seek to please. Sometimes, indeed, such objurgations -flatter. If, for example, the author has written a novel which is in -effect an attempt to batter down ancient prejudice, nothing should -please him more than to hear the angry protests of the conservative—they -may be the shrieks of the dying, as was the case, for instance, when Dr. -Holmes wrote the _Autocrat_; they show, at any rate, that the book has -hit. - -Now, each in its degree, every work of art is controversial and cannot -help being so until men are turned out, like lead soldiers, from a -common mould. Every novel, for example, even when not written “with a -purpose,” has many theories behind it—a theory as to its proper -construction, a theory as to its proper content, a theory of life. Every -one is a legitimate object of attack, and in public or private is -certain to be attacked. Does the author prefer to be fought in the open -or stabbed in the dark?—that is really his only choice. The author of a -novel, a poem, an essay, or a play should think of it as a new idea, or -a new embodiment of an idea, which is bound to hurtle against others -dear to their possessors. He should remember that a book that arouses no -discussion is a poor, dead thing. Let him cultivate the power of -analysis, and seek from his critics, not praise, but knowledge of what, -precisely, he has done. If he has sought to please, he can learn what -social groups he has charmed, what groups he has failed to interest, and -why, and may make a new effort with a better chance of success. If he -has sought to prevail, he can learn whether his blows have told, and, -what is more important, upon whom. In either case, to know the nature of -his general task, he must learn three things: whom his book has -affected, how much it has affected them, and in what way it has affected -them. Only through honest, widespread, really representative criticism, -can the author know these things. - -Whatever their individual hurts, the publisher of books, the publisher -of book-reviews, and the author should recognize that the entire -sincerity of criticism, which is the condition of its value to the -public, is also the condition of its value to them. It is a friend whose -wounds are faithful. The lesson that they must learn is this: an honest -man giving an honest opinion is a respectable person, and if he has any -literary gift at all, a forcible writer. What he says is read, and, what -is more, it is trusted. If he has cultivation enough to maintain himself -as a critic,—as many of those now writing have not, once servility -ceases to be a merit,—he acquires a following upon whom his influence is -deep and real, and upon whom, in the measure of his capacity, he exerts -an educational force. If to honesty he adds real scholarship, sound -taste, and vivacity as a writer, he becomes a leading critic, and his -influence for good is proportionally enlarged. If there were honest -critics with ability enough to satisfy the particular readers they -served in every periodical now printing literary criticism, public -interest in reviews, and consequently in books, would greatly increase. -And public interest and confidence once won, the standing, and with it -the profit, of the four groups commercially interested in literature -would infallibly rise. This is the condition which all four should work -to create. - -Would it arrive if the publisher of books should repudiate the Silent -Bargain? If he should send with the book for review, not the usual -ready-made puff, but a card requesting only the favor of a sincere -opinion; if, furthermore, he showed his good faith by placing his -advertisements where the quality of the reviewing was best, would the -critical millennium come? It would not. I have made the convenient -assumption that the critic needs only permission to be sincere. -Inevitable victim of the Silent Bargain he may be, but he is human and -will not be good simply because he has the chance. But he would be -better than he is—if for no other reason than because many of his -temptations would be removed. The new conditions would at once and -automatically change the direction of his personal interests. He and his -publisher would need to interest the public. Public service would be the -condition of his continuing critic at all. He would become the agent, -not of the publisher to the public, but of the public to the publisher. -And although then, as now in criticism of political affairs, insincere -men would sacrifice their standards to their popularity, they would -still reflect public opinion. To know what really is popular opinion is -the first step toward making it better. Accurately to know it is of the -first commercial importance for publisher and author, of the first -public importance for the effective leaders of public opinion. - -This new goal of criticism—the desire to attract the public—would have -other advantages. It would diminish the amount of criticism. One of the -worst effects of the Silent Bargain is the obligation of the reviewer to -notice every book that is sent him—not because it interests him, not -because it will interest his public, but to satisfy the publisher. Thus -it happens that many a newspaper spreads before its readers scores upon -scores of perfunctory reviews in which are hopelessly concealed those -few written with pleasure, those few which would be welcome to its -public. Tired by the mere sight, readers turn hopelessly away. Now, many -books lack interest for any one; of those that remain, many lack -interest for readers of a particular publication. Suppose a reviewer, -preoccupied, not with the publisher, but with his own public, confronted -by the annual mass of books: ask yourself what he would naturally do. He -would notice, would he not, those books only in which he thought that he -could interest his readers? He would warn his public against books which -would disappoint them; he would take pleasure in praising books which -would please them. The glow of personal interest would be in what he -wrote, and, partly for this reason, partly because the reviews would be -few, his public would read them. Herein, again, the publisher would -gain; conspicuous notices of the right books would go to the right -people. An automatic sifting and sorting of his publications, like that -done by the machines which grade fruit, sending each size into its -appropriate pocket, would take place. - -But the greatest gain to criticism remains to be pointed out. The -critics who have chosen silence, rather than submission to the Silent -Bargain, would have a chance to write. They are the best critics, and -when they resume the pen, the whole industry of writing will gain. - - - IV - -But the critic, though liberated, has many hard questions to decide, -many subtle temptations to resist. There is the question of his motives, -which I said are of no consequence to the author or to the public so -long as what he speaks is truth; but which, I must now add, are of great -consequence to him. If he feels envy and malice, he must not cherish -them as passions to be gratified, but use them, if at all, as dangerous -tools. He must be sure that his ruling passion is love of good work—a -love strong enough to make him proclaim it, though done by his worst -enemy. There is the question again of his own limitations; he must be on -his guard lest they lead him into injustice, and yet never so timid that -he fails to say what he thinks, for fear it may be wrong. - -I speak of these things from the point of view of the critic’s duty to -himself; but they are a part also of his duty towards his neighbor, the -author. What that duty may precisely be, is his most difficult problem. -A few things only are plain. He ought to say as much against a friend as -against an enemy, as much against a publisher whom he knows as against a -publisher of England or France. He must dare to give pain. He must make -his own the ideals of Sarcey. “I love the theatre,” he wrote to Zola, -“with so absolute a devotion that I sacrifice everything, even my -particular friends, even, what is much more difficult, my particular -enemies, to the pleasure of pushing the public towards the play which I -consider good, and of keeping it away from the play which I consider -bad.” - -That perhaps was comparatively easy for Sarcey with his clear ideal of -the well-made piece; it is perhaps easy in the simple, straightforward -appraisal of the ordinary book; but the critic may be excused if he -feels compunctions and timidities when the task grows more complex, -when, arming himself more and more with the weapons of psychology, he -seeks his explanations of a given work where undoubtedly they lie, in -the circumstances, the passions, the brains, the very disorders of the -author. How far in this path may he go? Unquestionably, he may go far, -very far with the not too recent dead; but with the living how far may -he go, how daring may he make his guess? For guess it will be, since his -knowledge, if not his competence, will be incomplete until memoirs, -letters, diaries, reminiscences bring him their enlightenment. One -thinks first what the author may suffer when violent hands are laid upon -his soul, and one recoils; but what of the public? Must the public, -then, not know its contemporaries just as far as it can—these -contemporaries whose strong influence for good or evil it is bound to -undergo? These have full license to play upon the public; shall not the -public, in its turn, be free to scrutinize to any, the most intimate -extent, the human stuff from which emanates the strong influence which -it feels? If the public good justifies dissection, does it not also -justify vivisection? Is literature an amusement only, or is it a living -force which on public grounds the critic has every right in all ways to -measure? Doubtless his right in the particular case may be tested by the -importance of the answer to the people, yet the grave delicacy of this -test—which the critic must apply himself—is equaled only by the -ticklishness of the task. Yet there lies the path of truth, serviceable, -ever honorable truth. - -The critic is, in fact, confronted by two standards. Now and again he -must make the choice between admirable conduct and admirable criticism. -They are not the same. It is obvious that what is outrageous conduct may -be admirable criticism, that what is admirable conduct may be inferior, -shuffling criticism. Which should he choose? If we make duty to the -public the test, logic seems to require that he should abate no jot of -his critical message. It certainly seems hard that he should be held to -a double (and contradictory) standard when others set in face of a like -dilemma are held excused. The priest is upheld in not revealing the -secrets of the confessional, the lawyer in not betraying the secret -guilt of his client, although as a citizen each should prefer the public -to the individual; whereas the critic who, reversing the case, -sacrifices the individual to the public, is condemned. The public should -recognize, I think, his right to a special code like that accorded the -priest, the lawyer, the soldier, the physician. He should be relieved of -certain social penalties, fear of which may cramp his freedom and so -lessen his value. Who cannot easily see that a critic may write from the -highest sense of duty words which would make him the “no gentleman” that -Cousin said Sainte-Beuve was? - -But the whole question is thorny; that writer will do an excellent -service to letters who shall speak an authoritative word upon the ethics -of criticism. At present, there is nothing—except the law of libel. The -question is raised here merely to the end of asking these further -questions: Would not the greatest freedom help rather than hurt the -cause of literature? Is not the double standard too dangerous a weapon -to be allowed to remain in the hands of the upholders of the Silent -Bargain? - - -Meanwhile —until the problem is solved —the critic must be an explorer -of untraveled ethical paths. Let him be bold whether he is a critic of -the deeds of the man of action, or of those subtler but no less real -deeds, the words of an author! For, the necessary qualifications made, -all that has been said of literary criticism applies to all -criticism—everywhere there is a Silent Bargain to be fought, everywhere -honest opinion has powerful foes. - -The thing to do for each author of words or of deeds, each critic of one -or the other, is to bring his own pebble of conviction however rough and -sharp-cornered and throw it into that stream of discussion which will -roll and grind it against others, and finally make of it and of them -that powder of soil in which, let us hope, future men will raise the -crop called truth. - - - - - DRAMATIC CRITICISM IN THE AMERICAN PRESS - - BY JAMES S. METCALFE - - -A little insight into the practical conditions which surround newspaper -criticism to-day is needed before we can estimate its value or -importance as an institution. Venial and grossly incompetent critics -there have always been, but these have eventually been limited in their -influence through the inevitable discovery of their defects. They were -and are individual cases, which may be disregarded in a general view. -The question to be considered is, whether our newspapers have any -dramatic criticism worthy of the name, and, if there is none, what are -the causes of its nonexistence. - -When the late William Winter lost his position as dramatic critic of the -_New York Tribune_, the event marked not alone the virtual disappearance -from the American press of dramatic criticism as our fathers knew and -appreciated it: the circumstances of the severance of his half-century’s -connection with that publication also illustrate vividly a principal -reason for the extinction of criticism as it used to be. - -At the time mentioned the _Tribune_ had not fallen entirely from its -early estate. It was still a journal for readers who thought. Its strong -political partisanship limited its circulation, which had been for some -time declining. It had been hurt by the fierce competition of its -sensational and more enterprising contemporaries. The _Tribune_ could -not afford to lose any of the advertising revenue which was essential to -its very existence. - -Mr. Winter would not write to orders. He had certain prejudices, but -they were honest ones, and those who knew his work were able to discount -them in sifting his opinions. For instance, he had a sturdy hatred for -the Ibsen kind of dissectional drama, and it was practically impossible -for him to do justice even to good acting in plays of this school. - -In a broader way he was the enemy of uncleanness on the stage. For this -reason he had frequently denounced a powerful firm of managers whom he -held to be principally responsible for the, at first insidious and then -rapid, growth of indecency in our theatre. These managers controlled a -large amount of the theatrical advertising. The _Tribune_ frequently -printed on one page large advertisements of the enterprises these men -represented, and on another page they would find themselves described, -in Mr. Winter’s most vigorous English, as panders who were polluting the -theatre and its patrons. They knew the _Tribune’s_ weak financial -condition and demanded that Mr. Winter’s pen be curbed, the alternative -being a withdrawal of their advertising patronage. What happened then -was a scandal, and is history in the newspaper and theatrical world. - -Mr. Winter refused to be muzzled. In spite of a half-century’s faithful -service, he was practically dismissed from the staff of the _Tribune_. -If it had not been for a notable benefit performance given for him by -artists who honored him, and generously patronized by his friends and -the public who knew his work, his last days would have been devoid of -comfort. - -Mr. Winter’s experience, although he is not the only critic who has lost -his means of livelihood through the influence of the advertising -theatrical manager, is in some form present to the mind of every -newspaper writer in the province of the theatre. No matter how strong -the assurance of his editor that he may go as far as he pleases in -telling the truth, he knows that even the editor himself is in fear of -the dread summons from the business office. If the critic has had any -experience in the newspaper business,—no longer a profession,—he writes -what he pleases, but with his subconscious mind tempering justice with -mercy for the enterprises of the theatrical advertiser. This, of course, -does not preclude his giving a critical tone to what he writes by -finding minor defects and even flaying unimportant artists. But woe be -unto him if he launches into any general denunciation of theatrical -methods, or attacks the enterprise of the advertising manager in a way -that imperils profits. - -There are exceptions to these general statements, especially outside of -New York. There are a few newspapers left where the editorial conscience -outweighs the influence of the counting-room. Even in these cases the -reviewer, if he is wise, steers clear of telling too much truth about -enterprises whose belligerent managers are only too glad to worry his -employers with complaints of persecution or injustice. In other places -the theatrical advertising is not of great value, particularly where the -moving-picture has almost supplanted the legitimate theatre. Here we -occasionally find criticism of the old sort, particularly if, in the -local reviewer’s mind, the entertainment offered is not up to what he -considers the Broadway standard of production. Here the publisher’s -regard for local pride will sometimes excuse the reviewer’s affront to -the infrequently visiting manager and the wares he offers. - -Another exception is the purely technical critic who has no broader -concern with the theatre than recording the impressions which come to -him through his eyes, ears, and memory. He is safe, because he rarely -offends. He is scarce, because he is little read and newspapers cannot -give him the space he requires for analysis and recollection. The -high-pressure life of the newspaper reader calls for a newspaper made -under high pressure and for to-day. In this process there is little -opportunity for the display of the scholarship, leisurely thinking, and -carefully evolved judgments which gave their fame to critics of an -earlier period. In the few remaining survivals of the strictly technical -critic their failure to interest many readers, or exercise much -influence, may argue less a lack of ability on their part than a change -from a thinking to a non-thinking public. Even in the big Sunday -editions of the city dailies, where the pages are generously padded with -text to carry the displayed theatrical advertising, the attempts to rise -to a higher critical plane than is possible in the hurried weekday -review are in themselves frequent evidence that technical criticism is a -thing of the past so far as the newspapers are concerned. - -The close connection of the business of the newspaper with the business -of the theatre accounts for the practical disappearance of the element -of fearlessness in critical dealing with the art of the stage, -particularly as the business control of the theatre is largely -responsible for whatever decline we may discern in the art of the -theatre. Of course, if criticism were content to concern itself only -with results, and not to look for causes, the matter of business -interests would figure little in the discussion. But when the critic -dares to go below the surface and discern commercialism as the main -cause of the decline that he condemns in the art of the stage, he finds -himself on dangerous ground. - -The theatre has always had to have its business side. Actors must live -and the accessories of their art must be provided. To this extent the -stage has always catered to the public. But from the days of the -strolling player to those of the acting-manager the voice from back of -the curtain has, until of recent years, had at least as much of command -as that of the ticket-seller. Both in the theatre and in the press -modern conditions have in great measure thrown the control to the -material side; and just as the artist and dramatist have become -subservient to the manager, the editor and critic have come under the -domination of the publisher. - -The need of a greater revenue to house plays and public has placed the -theatre in the hands of those who could manage to secure that revenue. -The same necessity on the material and mechanical side has put the power -of the press in the hands of those who could best supply its financial -needs. With both theatre and press on a commercial basis, it follows -naturally that the art of acting and the art of criticism should both -decline. - -Here we have the main causes that work from the inside for the -deterioration of an art and for the destruction of the standards by -which that art is measured. The outside causes are, of course, the basic -ones, but before we get to them we must understand the connecting links -which join the cause to the effect. To-day we certainly have no Hazlitts -or Sarceys writing for the American press. It might be enlightening with -respect to present conditions to consider the probabilities and -circumstances of their employment if they were here and in the flesh. -Can any one conceive of an American newspaper giving space to Hazlitt’s -work, even if he treated of the things of to-day? Even if he wrote his -opinions gratis and in the form of letters to the editor, it would -presumably be indeed a dull journalistic day when room could be found -for them. - -Sarcey, writing in the lighter French vein and being almost as much a -chroniqueur as a critic, might possibly have found opportunity to be -read in an American newspaper, if he could have curbed his independence -of thought. Starting from obscurity, it is a question whether he would -ever have been able to gain opportunity to be read simply as a critic, -for the processes by which newspaper critics are created or evolved seem -to have nothing to do with the possession of education, training, or -ability. In the majority of newspaper offices the function of dramatic -critic devolves by chance or convenience, and frequently goes by -favoritism to some member of the staff with a fondness for the theatre -and an appreciation of free seats. One of New York’s best known dailies -frankly treats theatrical reviewing as nothing more than reportorial -work, to be covered as would be any other news assignment. This -publication and a good many others are far more particular about the -technical equipment of the writers who describe baseball games, -horse-races, and prize-fights, than about the fitness of those who are -to weigh the merits of plays and acting. The ability to write without -offending the advertising theatrical manager seems in the last case to -be the only absolutely essential qualification. - -With these things in mind it will be seen that there is little to tempt -any one with ambition to contemplate dramatic criticism as a possible -profession. The uncertainty of employment, the slenderness of return, -and the limitations on freedom of expression would keep even the most -ardent lover of the theatre from thinking of criticism as a life -occupation. Given the education, the experience, the needed judicial -temperament, and the writing ability, all these are no assurance that -opportunity can be found to utilize them. - -Of themselves, the conditions that surround the calling of the critic -are enough to account for the absence from the American newspapers of -authoritative criticism. These conditions might be overcome if the -spirit of the times demanded. But there can be no such demand so long as -the press finds it more profitable to reflect the moods, thoughts, and -opinions of the public than to lead and direct them. When the changed -conditions of producing newspapers transferred the control of their -policy from the editorial rooms to the counting-rooms, the expression of -opinion on any subject became of little value compared with catering to -the popular love of sensation and the popular interest in the trivial. - -The change does not mean that there is any ignoring of the theatre in -the newspapers. The institution lends itself admirably to modern -newspaper exploitation. Destroying the fascinating mystery which once -shrouded life back of the curtain, for a long time made good copy for -the press. There is no longer any mystery, because the great space that -the newspapers devote to gossip of the theatre and its people has -flooded with publicity every corner of the institution and every event -of their lives. The process has been aided by managers through a perhaps -mistaken idea of the value of the advertising, and by artists for that -reason and for its appeal to their vanity. - -Criticism has no place in publicity of this sort, because criticism -concerns itself only with the art and the broad interests of the -theatre. The news reporter is often better qualified to describe the -milk-baths of a stage notoriety than is the ablest critic. With our -newspapers as they are, and with our public as it is, the reportorial -account of the milk-bath is of more value to the newspaper and its -readers than the most brilliant criticism that could be written of an -important event in the art of the theatre. - -With “give the people what they want” the prevailing law of press and -theatre, it is idle just now to look for dramatic criticism of value in -our newspapers. We may flatter ourselves that as a people we have a real -interest in theatrical and other arts. We can prove it by the vast sums -we spend on theatres, music, and pictures. With all our proof, we at -heart know that this is not true. Even in the more sensual art of music -we import our standards, in pictures we are governed more by cost than -quality, and in the theatre—note where most of our expenditure goes. In -that institution, with the creation of whose standards we are concerning -ourselves just now, consider the character of what are called “popular -successes,” and observe the short shrift given to most of the efforts -which call for enjoyment of the finer art of the stage through -recognition of that art when it is displayed. - -It is no disgrace that we are not an artistic people. Our -accomplishments and our interests are in other fields, where we more -than match the achievements of older civilizations. With us the theatre -is not an institution to which we turn for its literature and its -interpretations of character. We avoid it when it makes any demand on -our thinking powers. We turn to it as a relaxation from the use of those -powers in more material directions. We do not wish to study our stage, -its methods and its products. We ask it only to divert us. This is the -general attitude of the American to the theatre, and the exceptions are -few. - -In these conditions it is not strange that we have no scholarly critics -to help in establishing standards for our theatre, or that there is -little demand for real criticism, least of all in the daily press. As we -grow to be an older and more leisurely country, when our masses cease to -find in the crudities of the moving-picture their ideal of the drama, -and when our own judgments become more refined, we shall need the real -critic, and even the daily press will find room for his criticisms and -reward for his experience, ability, and judgment. - -The province and profit of our newspapers lie in interesting their -readers. Analysis of artistic endeavor is not interesting to a people -who have scant time and little inclination for any but practical and -diverting things. Until the people demand it and the conditions that -surround the critic improve, what passes for criticism in our daily -press is not likely to increase in quantity or improve in quality. - - - - - THE HUMOR OF THE COLORED SUPPLEMENT - - BY RALPH BERGENGREN - - - I - -Ten or a dozen years ago,—the exact date is here immaterial,—an -enterprising newspaper publisher conceived the idea of appealing to what -is known as the American “sense of humor” by printing a so-called comic -supplement in colors. He chose Sunday as of all days the most lacking in -popular amusements, carefully restricted himself to pictures without -humor and color without beauty, and presently inaugurated a new era in -American journalism. The colored supplement became an institution. No -Sunday is complete without it—not because its pages invariably delight, -but because, like flies in summer, there is no screen that will -altogether exclude them. A newspaper without a color press hardly -considers itself a newspaper, and the smaller journals are utterly -unmindful of the kindness of Providence in putting the guardian angel, -Poverty, outside their portals. Sometimes, indeed, they think to outwit -this kindly interference by printing a syndicated comic page without -color; and mercy is thus served in a half portion, for, uncolored, the -pictures are inevitably about twice as attractive. Some print them -without color, but on pink paper. Others rejoice, as best they may, in a -press that will reproduce at least a fraction of the original discord. -One and all they unite vigorously, as if driven by a perverse and -cynical intention, to prove the American sense of humor a thing of -national shame and degradation. Fortunately the public has so little to -say about its reading matter that one may fairly suspend judgment. - -For, after all, what is the sense of humor upon which every man prides -himself, as belonging only to a gifted minority? Nothing more nor less -than a certain mental quickness, alert to catch the point of an anecdote -or to appreciate the surprise of a new and unexpected point of view -toward an old and familiar phenomenon. Add together these gifted -minorities, and each nation reaches what is fallaciously termed the -national sense of humor—an English word, incidentally, for which -D’Israeli was unable to find an equivalent in any other language, and -which is in itself simply a natural development of the critical faculty, -born of a present need of describing what earlier ages had taken for -granted. The jovial porter and his charming chance acquaintances, the -three ladies of Bagdad, enlivened conversation with a kind of humor, -carefully removed from the translation of commerce and the public -libraries, for which they needed no descriptive noun, but which may -nevertheless be fairly taken as typical of that city in the day of the -Caliph Haroun. - -The Middle Ages rejoiced in a similar form of persiflage, and the -present day in France, Germany, England, or America, for example, -inherits it,—minus its too juvenile indecency,—in the kind of pleasure -afforded by these comic supplements. Their kinship with the lower -publications of European countries is curiously evident to whoever has -examined them. Vulgarity, in fact, speaks the same tongue in all -countries, talks, even in art-ruled France, with the same crude -draughtsmanship, and usurps universally a province that Emerson declared -“far better than wit for a poet or writer.” In its expression and -enjoyment no country can fairly claim the dubious superiority. All are -on the dead level of that surprising moment when the savage had ceased -to be dignified and man had not yet become rational. Men, indeed, speak -freely and vain-gloriously of their national sense of humor; but they -are usually unconscious idealists. For the comic cut that amuses the -most stupid Englishman may be shifted entire into an American comic -supplement; the “catastrophe joke” of the American comic weekly of the -next higher grade is stolen in quantity to delight the readers of -similar but more economical publications in Germany; the lower humor of -France, barring the expurgations demanded by Anglo-Saxon prudery, is -equally transferable; and the average American often examines on Sunday -morning, without knowing it, an international loan-exhibit. - -Humor, in other words, is cosmopolitan, reduced, since usage insists on -reducing it, at this lowest imaginable level, to such obvious and -universal elements that any intellect can grasp their combinations. And -at its highest it is again cosmopolitan, like art; like art, a -cultivated characteristic, no more spontaneously natural than a “love of -nature.” It is an insult to the whole line of English and American -humorists—Sterne, Thackeray, Dickens, Meredith, Twain, Holmes, Irving, -and others of a distinguished company—to include as humor what is merely -the crude brutality of human nature, mocking at grief and laughing -boisterously at physical deformity. And in these Sunday comics Humor, -stolen by vandals from her honest, if sometimes rough-and-ready, -companionship, thrusts a woe-be-gone visage from the painted canvas of -the national side-show, and none too poor to “shy a brick” at her. - -At no period in the world’s history has there been a steadier output of -so-called humor—especially in this country. The simple idea of printing -a page of comic pictures has produced families. The very element of -variety has been obliterated by the creation of types: a confusing -medley of impossible countrymen, mules, goats, German-Americans and -their irreverent progeny, specialized children with a genius for -annoying their elders, white-whiskered elders with a genius for playing -practical jokes on their grandchildren, policemen, Chinamen, Irishmen, -negroes, inhuman conceptions of the genus tramp, boy inventors whose -inventions invariably end in causing somebody to be mirthfully spattered -with paint or joyously torn to pieces by machinery, bright boys with a -talent for deceit, laziness, or cruelty, and even the beasts of the -jungle dehumanized to the point of practical joking. _Mirabile -dictu!_—some of these things have even been dramatized. - -With each type the reader is expected to become personally -acquainted,—to watch for its coming on Sunday mornings, happily -wondering with what form of inhumanity the author will have been able to -endow his brainless manikins. And the authors are often men of -intelligence, capable here and there of a bit of adequate drawing and an -idea that is honestly and self-respectingly provocative of laughter. -Doubtless they are often ashamed of their product; but the demand of the -hour is imperative. The presses are waiting. They, too, are both quick -and heavy. And the cry of the publisher is for “fun” that no intellect -in all his heterogeneous public shall be too dull to appreciate. We see, -indeed, the outward manifestation of a curious paradox: humor prepared -and printed for the extremely dull, and—what is still more -remarkable—excused by grown men, capable of editing newspapers, on the -ground that it gives pleasure to children. - -Reduced to first principles, therefore, it is not humor, but simply a -supply created in answer to a demand, hastily produced by machine -methods and hastily accepted by editors too busy with other editorial -duties to examine it intelligently. Under these conditions “humor” is -naturally conceived as something preëminently quick; and so quickness -predominates. Somebody is always hitting somebody else with a club; -somebody is always falling downstairs, or out of a balloon, or over a -cliff, or into a river, a barrel of paint, a basket of eggs, a -convenient cistern, or a tub of hot water. The comic cartoonists have -already exhausted every available substance into which one can fall, and -are compelled to fall themselves into a veritable ocean of vain -repetition. They have exhausted everything by which one can be blown up. -They have exhausted everything by which one can be knocked down or run -over. And if the victim is never actually killed in these mirthful -experiments, it is obviously because he would then cease to be -funny—which is very much the point of view of the Spanish Inquisition, -the cat with a mouse, or the American Indian with a captive. But respect -for property, respect for parents, for law, for decency, for truth, for -beauty, for kindliness, for dignity, or for honor, are killed, without -mercy. Morality alone, in its restricted sense of sexual relations, is -treated with courtesy, although we find throughout the accepted theory -that marriage is a union of uncongenial spirits, and the chart of petty -marital deceit is carefully laid out and marked for whoever is likely to -respond to endless unconscious suggestions. Sadly must the American -child sometimes be puzzled while comparing his own grandmother with the -visiting mother-in-law of the colored comic. - - - II - -Lest this seem a harsh, even an unkind inquiry into the innocent -amusements of other people, a few instances may be mentioned, drawn from -the Easter Sunday output of papers otherwise both respectable and -unrespectable; papers, moreover, depending largely on syndicated humor -that may fairly be said to have reached a total circulation of several -million readers. We have, to begin with, two rival versions of a -creation that made the originator famous, and that chronicle the -adventures of a small boy whose name and features are everywhere -familiar. Often these adventures, in the original youngster, have been -amusing, and amusingly seasoned with the salt of legitimately absurd -phraseology. But the pace is too fast, even for the originator. The -imitator fails invariably to catch the spirit of them, and in this -instance is driven to an ancient subterfuge. - -To come briefly to an unpleasant point: an entire page is devoted to -showing the reader how the boy was made ill by smoking his father’s -cigars. Incidentally he falls downstairs. Meanwhile, his twin is -rejoicing the readers of another comic supplement by spoiling a wedding -party; it is the minister who first comes to grief, and is stood on his -head, the boy who, later, is quite properly thrashed by an angry -mother—and it is all presumably very delightful and a fine example for -the imitative genius of other children. Further, we meet a mule who -kicks a policeman and whose owner is led away to the lockup; a manicured -vacuum who slips on a banana peel, crushes the box containing his -fiancée’s Easter bonnet, and is assaulted by her father (he, after the -manner of comic fathers, having just paid one hundred dollars for the -bonnet out of a plethoric pocketbook); a nondescript creature, -presumably human, who slips on another banana peel and knocks over a -citizen, who in turn knocks over a policeman, and is also marched off to -undeserved punishment. We see the German-American child covering his -father with water from a street gutter; another child deluging his -parent with water from a hose; another teasing his younger brother and -sister. To keep the humor of the banana peel in countenance, we find the -picture of a fat man accidentally sitting down on a tack; he exclaims, -“Ouch!” throws a basket of eggs into the air, and they come down on the -head of the boy who arranged the tacks. We see two white boys beating a -little negro over the head with a plank (the hardness of the negro’s -skull here affording the humorous _motif_), and we see an idiot blowing -up a mule with dynamite. Lunacy, in short, could go no further than this -pandemonium of undisguised coarseness and brutality—the humor offered on -Easter Sunday morning by leading American newspapers for the edification -of American readers. - -And every one of the countless creatures, even to the poor, maligned -dumb animals, is saying something. To the woeful extravagance of foolish -acts must be added an equal extravagance of foolish words: “Out with -you, intoxicated rowdy!” “Shut up!” “Skidoo!” “They’ve set the dog on -me.” “Hee-haw.” “My uncle had it tooken in Hamburg.” “Dat old gentleman -will slip on dem banana skins,” “Little Buster got all that was coming -to him.” “Aw, shut up!” “Y-e-e-e G-o-d-s!” “Ouch!” “Golly, dynamite am -powerful stuff.” “I am listening to vat der vild vaves is sedding.” “I -don’t think Pa and I will ever get along together until he gets rid of -his conceit.” “Phew!” - -The brightness of this repartee could be continued indefinitely; -profanity, of course, is indicated by dashes and exclamation points; a -person who has fallen overboard says, “Blub!” concussion is visibly -represented by stars; “biff” and “bang” are used, according to taste, to -accompany a blow on the nose or an explosion of dynamite. - -From this brief summary it may be seen how few are the fundamental -conceptions that supply the bulk of almost the entire output, and in -these days of syndicated ideas a comparatively small body of men produce -the greater part of it. Physical pain is the most glaringly omnipresent -of these motifs; it is counted upon invariably to amuse the average -humanity of our so-called Christian civilization. The entire group of -Easter Sunday pictures constitutes a saturnalia of prearranged accidents -in which the artist is never hampered by the exigencies of logic; -machinery in which even the presupposed poorest intellect might be -expected to detect the obvious flaw accomplishes its evil purpose with -inevitable accuracy; jails and lunatic asylums are crowded with new -inmates; the policeman always uses his club or revolver; the parents -usually thrash their offspring at the end of the performance; household -furniture is demolished, clothes ruined, and unsalable eggs broken by -the dozen. Deceit is another universal concept of humor, which combines -easily with the physical pain _motif_; and mistaken identity, in which -the juvenile idiot disguises himself and deceives his parents in various -ways, is another favorite resort of the humorists. The paucity of -invention is hardly less remarkable than the willingness of the -inventors to sign their products, or the willingness of editors to -publish them. But the age is notoriously one in which editors underrate -and insult the public intelligence. - -Doubtless there are some to applaud the spectacle,—the imitative -spirits, for example, who recently compelled a woman to seek the -protection of a police department because of the persecution of a gang -of boys and young men shouting “hee-haw” whenever she appeared on the -street; the rowdies whose exploits figure so frequently in metropolitan -newspapers; or that class of adults who tell indecent stories at the -dinner-table and laugh joyously at their wives’ efforts to turn the -conversation. But the Sunday comic goes into other homes than these, and -is handed to their children by parents whose souls would shudder at the -thought of a dime novel. Alas, poor parents! That very dime novel as a -rule holds up ideals of bravery and chivalry, rewards good and punishes -evil, offers at the worst a temptation to golden adventuring, for which -not one child in a million will ever attempt to surmount the obvious -obstacles. It is no easy matter to become an Indian fighter, pirate, or -detective; the dream is, after all, a day-dream, tinctured with the -beautiful color of old romance, and built on eternal qualities that the -world has rightfully esteemed worthy of emulation. And in place of it -the comic supplement, like that other brutal horror, the juvenile comic -story, which goes on its immoral way unnoticed, raises no high ambition, -but devotes itself to “mischief made easy.” Hard as it is to become an -Indian fighter, any boy has plenty of opportunity to throw stones at his -neighbor’s windows. And on any special occasion, such, for example, as -Christmas or Washington’s Birthday, almost the entire ponderous machine -is set in motion to make reverence and ideals ridiculous. Evil example -is strong in proportion as it is easy to imitate. The state of mind that -accepts the humor of the comic weekly is the same as that which shudders -at Ibsen, and smiles complacently at the musical comedy, with its open -acceptance of the wild-oats theory, and its humorous exposition of a -kind of wild oats that youth may harvest without going out of its own -neighborhood. - -In all this noisy, explosive, garrulous pandemonium one finds here and -there a moment of rest and refreshment—the work of the few pioneers of -decency and decorum brave enough to bring their wares to the noisome -market and lucky enough to infuse their spirit of refinement, art, and -genuine humor into its otherwise hopeless atmosphere. Preëminent among -them stands the inventor of “Little Nemo in Slumberland,” a man of -genuine pantomimic humor, charming draughtsmanship, and an excellent -decorative sense of color, who has apparently studied his medium and -makes the best of it. And with him come Peter Newell, Grace G. -Weiderseim, and Condé,—now illustrating _Uncle Remus_ for a Sunday -audience,—whose pictures in some of the Sunday papers are a delightful -and self-respecting proof of the possibilities of this type of -journalism. Out of the noisy streets, the cheap restaurants with their -unsteady-footed waiters and avalanches of soup and crockery, out of the -slums, the quarreling families, the prisons and the lunatic asylums, we -step for a moment into the world of childish fantasy, closing the iron -door behind us and trying to shut out the clamor of hooting mobs, the -laughter of imbeciles, and the crash of explosives. After all, there is -no reason why children should not have their innocent amusement on -Sunday morning; but there seems to be every reason why the average -editor of the weekly comic supplement should be given a course in art, -literature, common sense, and Christianity. - - - - - THE AMERICAN GRUB STREET - - BY JAMES H. COLLINS - - - I - -New York’s theatres, cafés, and hotels, with many of her industries, are -supported by a floating population. The provinces know this, and it -pleases them mightily. But how many of the actual inhabitants of New -York know of the large floating population that is associated with her -magazines, newspapers, and publishing interests?—a floating population -of the arts, mercenaries of pen and typewriter, brush and camera, living -for the most part in the town and its suburbs, yet leading an unattached -existence, that, to the provincial accustomed to dealing with life on a -salary, seems not only curious but extremely precarious—as it often is. - -The free-lance writer and artist abound in the metropolis, and with them -is associated a motley free-lance crew that has no counterpart elsewhere -on this continent. New York’s “Grub Street” is one of the truest -indications of her metropolitan character. In other American cities the -newspaper is written, illustrated, and edited by men and women on -salaries, as are the comparatively few magazines and the technical press -covering our country’s material activities. But in New York, while -hundreds of editors, writers, and artists also rely upon a stated, -definite stipend, several times as many more live without salaried -connections, sometimes by necessity, but as often by choice. These are -the dwellers in Grub Street. - -This thoroughfare has no geographical definition. Many of the natives of -Manhattan Island know as little of it as do the truck loads of visitors -“seeing New York,” who cross and recross it unwittingly. Grub Street -begins nowhere and ends nowhere; yet between these vague terminals it -runs to all points of the compass, turns sharp corners, penetrates -narrow passageways, takes its pedestrians up dark old stairways one -moment and through sumptuous halls of steel and marble the next, -touching along the way more diverse interests than any of the actual -streets of Manhattan, and embracing ideals, tendencies, influences, and -life-currents that permeate the nation’s whole material and spiritual -existence. Greater Grub Street is so unobtrusive that a person with no -affair to transact therein might dwell a quarter-century in New York and -never discover it; yet it is likewise so palpable and vast to its -denizens that by no ordinary circumstances would any of them be likely -to explore all its infinite arteries, veins, and ganglia. - -Not long ago there arrived on Park Row for the first time in his life a -newspaper reporter of conspicuous ability along a certain line. In the -West he had made a name for his knack at getting hold of corporate -reports and court decisions several days in advance of rival papers. -Once, in Chicago, by climbing over the ceiling of a jury-room, he was -able to publish the verdict in a sensational murder trial a half-hour -before it had been brought in to the judge. A man invaluable in -following the devious windings of the day’s history as it must be -written in newspapers, he had come to Park Row as the ultimate field of -development for his especial talent. To demonstrate what he had done, he -brought along a thick sheaf of introductory letters from Western -editors. There was one for every prominent editor and publisher in the -New York newspaper field, yet after all had been delivered it seemed to -avail nothing. Nobody had offered him a situation. - -“The way to get along in New York is to go out and get the stuff,” -explained a free lance whom he fell in with in a William Street -restaurant. “Get copy they can’t turn down—deliver the goods.” - -In that dull summer season all the papers were filled with gossip about -a subscription book that had been sold at astonishing prices to that -unfailing resource of newspapers, the “smart set.” Charges of blackmail -flew through the city. Official investigation had failed to reveal -anything definite about the work, which was said to be in process of -printing. In twenty-four hours the newcomer from the West appeared in -the office of a managing editor with specimen pages of the book itself. -Where he had got them nobody knew. No one cared. They were manifestly -genuine, and within two hours a certain sensational newspaper scored a -“beat.” At last accounts he was specializing in the same line, obtaining -the unobtainable and selling it where it would bring the best price. - -This is one type of free lance. - -At the other end of the scale may be cited the all-around scientific -worker who came to the metropolis several years ago, after long -experience in the departments at Washington. Lack of influence there had -thrown him on the world at forty. Accustomed to living on the rather -slender salary that goes with a scientific position, and knowing no -other way of getting a livelihood, he set out to find in New York a -place similar to that he had held in the capital. He is a man who has -followed the whole trend of modern scientific progress as a practical -investigator—a deviser of experiments and experimental apparatus, a -skilled technical draughtsman, a writer on scientific subjects, and a -man of field experience in surveying and research that has taken him all -over the world. New York offered him nothing resembling the work he had -done in Washington; but in traveling about the town among scientific and -technical publishers he got commissions to write an article or two for -an encyclopedia. These led him into encyclopedic illustration as well, -and then he took charge of a whole section of the work, gathering his -materials outside, writing and drawing at home, and visiting the -publisher’s office only to deliver the finished copy. Encyclopedia -writing and illustration has since become his specialty. His wide -experience and knowledge fit him to cope with diverse subjects, and he -earns an income which, if not nearly so large as that of the free-lance -reporter, is quite as satisfactory as his Washington salary. As soon as -one encyclopedia is finished in New York, another is begun, and from -publisher to publisher go a group of encyclopedic free-lances, who will -furnish an article on integral calculus or the Vedic pantheon, with -diagrams and illustrations—and very good articles at that. - - - II - -Who but a Balzac will take a census of Greater Grub Street, enumerating -its aristocrats, its well-to-do obscure bourgeois, its Bohemians, its -rakes and evil-doers, its artisans and struggling lower classes? Among -its citizens are the materials of a newer _Comédie Humaine_. The two -personalities outlined above merely set a vague intellectual boundary to -this world. In its many kinds and stations of workers Grub Street is as -irreducible as nebulæ. Its aristocracy is to be found any time in that -“Peerage” of Grub Street, the contents pages of the better magazines, -where are arrayed the names of successful novelists, essayists, and -short-story writers, of men and women who deal with specialties such as -travel, historical studies, war correspondence, nature interpretation, -sociology, politics, and every other side of life and thought; and here, -too, are enlisted their morganatic relatives, the poets and versifiers, -and their showy, prosperous kindred, the illustrators, who may be -summoned from Grub Street to paint a portrait at Newport. This peerage -is real, for no matter upon what stratum of Grub Street each newcomer -may ultimately find his level of ability, this is the goal that was -aimed at in the beginning. This is the Dream. - -Staid, careful burghers of the arts, producing their good, dull, staple -necessities in screed and picture, live about the lesser magazines, the -women’s periodicals, the trade and technical press, the syndicates that -supply “Sunday stuff” to newspapers all over the land, the nameless, -mediocre publications that are consumed by our rural population in -million editions. The Bohemian element is found writing “on space” for -newspapers this month, furnishing the press articles of a theatre or an -actress the next, running the gamut of the lesser magazines feverishly, -flitting hither and thither, exhausting its energies with wasteful -rapidity, and never learning the business tact and regularity that keep -the burgher in comfort and give his name a standing at the savings bank. -The criminal class of Grub Street includes the peddler of false news, -the adapter of other men’s ideas, and the swindler who copies published -articles and pictures outright, trusting to luck to elude the editorial -police. The individual in this stratum has a short career and not a -merry one; but the class persists with the persistence of the parasite. -Grub Street’s artisans are massed about the advertising agencies, -producing the plausible arguments put forth for the world of -merchandise, and the many varieties of illustration that go with them; -while the nameless driftwood which floats about the whole thoroughfare -includes no one knows how many hundreds of aspirants whose talents do -not suffice for any of these classes, together with the peddler of other -men’s wares on commission, who perhaps ekes out a life by entering as a -super at the theatres, the artists’ models, both men and women, who pose -in summer and are away with a theatrical company in winter, the dullard, -the drone, the ne’er-do-well, the palpable failure. At one end, Art’s -chosen sons and daughters; at the other, her content, misguided dupes. - -The free lance is bred naturally in New York, and thrives in its -atmosphere, because the market for his wares is stable and infinitely -varied. The demand he satisfies could be appeased by no other system. -The very life of metropolitan publishing lies in the search for new men -and variety. Publishers spend great sums upon the winnowing machinery -that threshes over what comes to their editors’ desks, and no editor in -the metropolis grudges the time necessary to talk with those who call in -person and have ideas good enough to carry them past his assistants. -Publicly, the editorial tribe may lament the many hours spent yearly in -this winnowing process. Yet every experienced editor in New York has his -own story of the stranger, uncouth, unpromising, unready of speech, who -stole in late one afternoon and seemed to have almost nothing in him, -yet who afterwards became the prolific Scribbler or the great D’Auber. -Not an editor of consequence but who, if he knew that to-morrow this -ceaseless throng of free lances, good, bad, and impossible, had declared -a Chinese boycott upon him and would visit his office no more, would -regard it as the gravest of crises. - -New York provides a market so wide for the wares of the free lance that -almost anything in the way of writing or picture can eventually be sold, -if it is up to a certain standard of mediocrity. A trained salesman -familiar with values in the world of merchandise would consider this -market one of the least exacting, most constant, and remunerative. And -it is a market to be regarded, on the whole, in terms of merchandise. -Not genius or talent sets the standards, but ordinary good workmanship. -Magazines are simply the apex of the demand—that corner of the mart -where payment is perhaps highest and the byproduct of reputation -greatest. For each of the fortunate workers whose names figure in the -magazine peerage, there are virtually hundreds who produce for -purchasers and publications quite unknown to the general public, and -often their incomes are equal to those of the established fiction writer -or popular illustrator. - -New York has eight Sunday newspapers that buy matter for their own -editions and supply it in duplicate to other Sunday newspapers -throughout the country under a syndicate arrangement. Perhaps an average -of five hundred columns of articles, stories, interviews, children’s -stuff, household and feminine gossip, humor, verse, and miscellany, with -illustrations, are produced every week for this demand alone; and at -least fifty per cent of the yearly $150,000 that represents its lowest -value to the producers is paid to free-lance workers. The rest goes to -men on salary who write Sunday matter at space rates. This item is -wholly distinct from the equally great mass of Sunday stuff written for -the same papers by salaried men. Several independent syndicates also -supply a similar class of matter to papers throughout the United States, -for both Sunday and daily use. This syndicate practice has, within the -past ten years, made New York a veritable journalistic provider for the -rest of the nation. The metropolis supplies the Sunday reading of the -American people, largely because it has the resources of Grub Street to -draw upon. Syndicate matter is cheaper than the provincial product, it -is true; but not price alone is accountable for this supremacy of the -syndicate. By the side of the workmanlike stories, articles, skits, and -pictures supplied by Greater Grub Street, the productions of a -provincial newspaper staff on salary grow monotonous in their sameness, -and reveal themselves by their less skillful handling. - -The Sunday-reading industry provides a market, not only for writers and -artists, but also for photographers, caricaturists, cartoonists, makers -of squibs and jokes, experts in fashions, devisers of puzzles, men and -women who sell ideas for novel Sunday supplements, such as those printed -in sympathetic inks, and the like. It is a peculiarity of our country -worth noting, that all our published humor finds its outlet through the -newspapers. Though England, Germany, France, and other countries have a -humorous press distinctly apart, the United States has only one humorous -journal that may be called national in tone. An overwhelming tide of -caricature and humor sweeps through our daily papers, but the larger -proportion is found in the illustrated comic sheets of the leading New -York dailies; and these are syndicated in a way that gives them a -tremendous national circulation. The Sunday comic sheet, whatever one -wishes to say of its quality, was built in Greater Grub Street, and -there, to-day, its foundations rest. - -In Grub Street, too, dwells the army of workers who furnish what -might be called the cellulose of our monthly and weekly -publications—interviews, literary gossip, articles of current news -interest, matter interesting to women, to children, to every class -and occupation. As there are magazines for the servant girl and -clerk, so there are magazines for the millionaire with a country -estate, the business man studying system and methods, the woman with -social or literary aspirations, the family planning travel or a -vacation. To-day it is a sort of axiom in the publishing world that -a new magazine, to succeed, must have a new specialty. Usually this -will be a material one, for our current literature deals with things -rather than thought; it is healthy but never top-heavy. Each new -magazine interest discovered is turned over to Greater Grub Street -for development, and here it is furnished with matter to fit the new -point of view, drawings and photographs to make it plain, editors to -guide, and sometimes a publisher to send it to market. - -Then come, rank on rank, the trade and technical periodicals, of which -hundreds are issued weekly and monthly in New York. These touch the -whole range of industry and commerce. They deal with banking, law, -medicine, insurance, manufacturing, and the progress of merchandise of -every kind through the wholesale, jobbing, and retailing trades, with -invention and mechanical science, with crude staples and finished -commodities, with the great main channels of production and distribution -and the little by-corners of the mart. Some of them are valuable -publishing properties; more are insignificant; yet each has to go to -press regularly, and all must be filled with their own particular kinds -of news, comment, technical articles, and pictures. Theirs is a -difficult point of view for the free lance, and on this account much of -their contents is written by salaried editors and assistants. -Contributions come, too, from engineers, scientists, bankers, attorneys, -physicians, and specialists in every part of the country. Foremen and -superintendents and mechanics in some trades send in roughly outlined -diagrams and descriptions that enable the quick-witted editors to see -“how the blamed thing works” and write the finished article. The -American trade press is still in an early stage of development on its -literary side. It has grown up largely within the past two decades, and -still lacks literary workmanship. To hundreds of free-lance workers this -field is now either unknown or underestimated. Yet year after year men -disappear from Park Row and the round of Magazinedom, to be found, if -any one would take the trouble to look them up, among the trade -journals. Some of the great properties in this class belong to -journalists who saw an opportunity a decade ago, and grasped it. - - - III - -The trade journals lead directly into the field of advertising, which -has grown into a phenomenal outlet for free lance energies in the past -ten years, and is still growing at a rate that promises to make it the -dominant market of Grub Street. A glance through the advertising -sections of the seventy-five or more monthly and weekly magazines -published in New York reveals only a fraction of this demand, for a mass -of writing and illustration many times greater is produced for -catalogues, booklets, folders, circulars, advertising in the religious, -agricultural, and trade press, and other purposes. Much of it is the -work of men on salary, yet advertising takes so many ingenious forms and -is so constantly striving for the novel and excellent, that almost every -writer and illustrator of prominence receives in the course of the year -commissions for special advertising work, and fat commissions, too. -Often the fine drawing one sees as the centre of attraction in a -magazine advertisement is the work of a man or woman of reputation among -the readers of magazines, delivered with the understanding that it is to -be published unsigned. - -The advertising demand is divided into two classes—that represented by -business firms which prepare their own publicity, and that for the -advertising agencies which prepare and forward to periodicals the -advertising of many business houses, receiving for their service a -commission from the publishers. It is among the latter especially that -the free lance finds his market, for the agencies handle a varied mass -of work and are continually calling in men who can furnish fresh ideas. -One of the leading advertising agencies keeps in a great file the names -and addresses of several hundred free-lance workers—writers, sculptors, -illustrators, portrait painters, translators, news and illustrating -photographers, fashion designers, authorities in silver and virtu, -book-reviewers, journalists with such specialties as sports, social -news, and the markets. Each is likely to be called on for something in -his particular line as occasions arise. - -This concern, for example, may receive a commission to furnish a -handsomely bound miniature book on servants’ liveries for a clothing -manufacturer, or a history of silver plate to be privately printed and -distributed among the patrons of a great jewelry house. For a simple -folder to advertise a brand of whiskey, perhaps, the sporting editor of -a leading daily newspaper is asked to compile information about -international yacht-racing. From Union Square may be seen a large wall, -upon which is painted a quaint landscape of gigantic proportions. It is -a bit of thoroughly artistic design, fitting into the general color -scheme of the square, and its attractiveness gives it minor advertising -value for the firm that has taken an original way of masking a blank -wall. This decoration was painted from a small design, made for the -above advertising agency by a painter of prominence. The same agency, in -compiling a catalogue of cash registers some time ago, referred to their -utilitarian ugliness of design. The cash register manufacturers -protested that these were the best designs they had been able to make, -whereupon the advertising agency commissioned four sculptors, who -elaborated dainty cash-register cases in the _art nouveau_ manner, for -installation in cafés, milliners’ shops, and other fine establishments. - -Advertising requires versatility of a high order. A newspaper writer, so -long as he makes his articles interesting to the widest public, is not -required to give too strict attention to technicalities—he writes upon -this subject to-day and upon one at the opposite pole to-morrow. A -writer for a trade journal, on the other hand, need not give pains to -human interest if his technical grasp of the iron market, the -haberdashery trade, or the essentials of machine-shop practice is sure. -Moreover, each year’s experience in writing for a trade journal adds to -his knowledge of its subject and makes his work so much the surer and -simpler. But the writer of advertising must combine human interest with -strict accuracy; his subject is constantly changing, unless he is a -specialist in a certain line, taking advertising commissions at -intervals. To-day he studies the methods of making cigars and the many -different kinds of tobacco that enter therein; to-morrow he writes a -monograph on enameled tin cans, investigating the processes of making -them in the factory; and the day after that his topic may be breakfast -foods, taking him into investigations of starch, gluten, digestive -functions, diet and health, and setting him upon a weary hunt for -synonyms to describe the “rich nutty flavor” that all breakfast foods -are said to have. All the illustrative work of an advertising artist -must be so true to detail that it will pass the eyes of men who spend -their lives making the things he pictures. The Camusots and Matifats no -longer provide costly orgies for Grub Street, sitting by meekly to enjoy -the flow of wit and banter. They now employ criticism in moulding their -literature of business. It was one of them who, difficult to please in -circulars, looked over the manuscript submitted by an advertising free -lance with more approval than was his custom. “This is not bad,” he -commented; “not bad at all—and yet—I have seen all these words used -before.” - -An interesting new development of advertising is the business -periodical, a journal published by a large manufacturer, usually, and -sent out monthly to retail agents or his consuming public. In its pages -are printed articles about the manufacturer’s product, descriptions of -its industrial processes, news of the trade, and miscellany. Many of -these periodicals are extremely interesting for themselves. There must -be dozens of them in New York—none of the newspaper directories list -them. Writers who are not especially familiar with the product with -which they deal often furnish a style of matter for them that is valued -for its fresh point of view and freedom from trade and technical -phraseology. These publications range from journals of a dozen pages, -issued on the “every little while” plan for the retail trade of a rubber -hose manufacturer, to the monthly magazine which a stocking jobber mails -to thousands of youngsters all over the land to keep them loyal to his -goods. - -This, then, is the market in its main outlines. But a mass of detail has -been eliminated. In groups large and small there are the poster artists -who work for theatrical managers and lithographers; the strange, obscure -folk who write the subterranean dime-novel stories of boyhood; the -throngs of models who go from studio to studio, posing at the uniform -rate of fifty cents an hour whether they work constantly or seldom; the -engravers who have made an art of retouching half-tone plates; the great -body of crafts-and-arts workers which has sprung up in the past five -years and which leads the free-lance life in studios, selling pottery, -decorated china, wood, and metal work to rich patrons; the serious -painters whose work is found in exhibitions, and the despised “buckeye” -painter who paints for the department stores and cheap picture shops; -the etchers, the portrait painters, and the “spotknockers” who lay in -the tones of the crude “crayon portrait” for popular consumption—these -and a multitude of others inhabit Greater Grub Street, knowing no -regularity of employment, of hours, or of income. - - - IV - -While its opportunities are without conceivable limitation, Grub Street -is not a thoroughfare littered with currency, but is paved with -cobblestones as hard as any along the other main avenues of New York’s -life and energy. The Great Man of the Provinces, landing at Cortlandt or -Twenty-third Street after an apprenticeship at newspaper work in a minor -city, steps into a world strangely different from the one he has known. -For, just to be a police reporter elsewhere is to be a journalist, and -journalism is the same as literature, and literature is honorable, and a -little mysterious, and altogether different from the management of a -stove foundry, or the proprietorship of a grocery house, or any other of -the overwhelmingly material things that make up American life. Times -have not greatly changed since Lucien de Rubempré was the lion of Madame -de Bargeton’s salon at Angoulême, and this is a matter they seem to have -ordered no better in provincial France. To be a writer or artist of any -calibre elsewhere breeds a form of homage and curiosity and a certain -sure social standing. But New York strikes a chill over the Great Man of -the Provinces, because it is nothing at all curious or extraordinary for -one to write or draw in a community where thousands live by these -pursuits. They carry no homage or social standing on their face, and the -editorial world is even studied in its uncongeniality toward the -newcomer, because he is so fearfully likely to prove one of the -ninety-nine in every hundred aspirants who cannot draw or write well -enough. The ratio that holds in the mass of impossible manuscript and -sketches that pours into every editorial office is also the ratio of the -living denizens of Grub Street. The Great Man of the Provinces is -received on the assumption that he is unavailable, with thanks, and the -hope that he will not consider this a reflection upon his literary or -artistic merit. - -So he finds himself altogether at sea for a while. No Latin Quarter -welcomes him, for this community has no centre. His estimates of -magazine values, formed at a distance, are quickly altered. Many lines -of work he had never dreamed of, and channels for selling it, come to -light day by day. To pass the building where even _Munsey’s_ is -published gives him a thrill the first time; yet after a few months in -New York he finds that the great magazines, instead of being nearer, are -really farther away than they were in the provinces. Of the other -workers he meets, few aspire to them, while of this few only a fraction -get into their pages. He calls on editors, perhaps, and finds them a -strange, non-committal caste, talking very much like their own rejection -slips. No editor will definitely give him a commission, even if he -submits an idea that seems good, but can at most be brought to admit -under pressure that, if the Great Man were to find himself in that -neighborhood with the idea all worked up, the editor _might_ be -interested in seeing it, perhaps even reading it—yet he must not -understand this as in any way binding ... the magazine is very full just -at present ... hadn’t he better try the newspapers, now? For there are -more blanks than prizes walking the Grub Street paving, and persons of -unsound minds have been known to take to literature as a last resort, -and the most dangerous person to the editor is not a rejected -contributor at all, but one who has been accepted once and sees a gleam -of a chance that he may be again. - -If the Great Man really has “stuff” in him, he stops calling on editors -and submits his offerings by mail. Even if he attains print in a worthy -magazine, he may work a year without seeing its notable contributors, or -its minor ones, or its handmaidens, or even its office-boy. Two men -jostled one another on Park Row one morning as they were about to enter -the same newspaper building, apologized, and got into the elevator -together. There a third introduced them, when it turned out that one had -been illustrating the work of the other for two years, and each had -wished to know the other, but never got around to it. An individual -circle of friends is easily formed in Grub Street, but the community as -a whole lives far and wide and has no coherence. - -What ability or skill the Great Man brought from his province may be -only the foundation for real work. There will surely be extensive -revising of ideals and methods. A story is told of a poet who came to -the metropolis with a completed epic. This found no acceptance, so after -cursing the stupidity of the public and the publishers, he took to -writing “Sunday stuff.” Soon the matter-of-fact attitude of the workers -around him, with the practical view of the market he acquired, led him -to doubt the literary value of the work he had done in the sentimental -atmosphere of his native place. Presently a commission to write a column -of humor a week came to him, and he cut his epic into short lengths, -tacked a squib on each fragment, and eventually succeeded in printing it -all as humor, at a price many times larger than the historic one brought -by _Paradise Lost_. Another newcomer brought unsalable plays and high -notions of the austerity of the artistic vocation. Three months after -his arrival he was delighted to get a commission to write the handbook a -utilitarian publisher proposed to sell to visitors seeing the -metropolis. This commission not only brought a fair payment for the -manuscript on delivery, but involved a vital secondary consideration. -The title of the work was “Where to Eat in New York,” and its -preparation made it necessary for the author to dine each evening for a -month in a different café at the proprietor’s expense. - -This practical atmosphere of Grub Street eventually makes for -development in the writer or artist who has talent. It is an atmosphere -suited to work, for the worker is left alone in the solitude of the -multitude. False ideals and sentimentality fade from his life, and his -style takes on directness and vigor. Greater Grub Street is not given to -reviling the public for lack of ideals or appreciation. The free lance’s -contact with the real literary market, day after day, teaches him that, -as soon as he can produce the manuscript of the great American novel, -there are editors who may be trusted to perceive its merit, and -publishers ready to buy. - - - V - -This free-lance community of the metropolis is housed all over Manhattan -Island, as well as in the suburbs and adjacent country for a hundred -miles or more around. An amusing census of joke-writers and humorists -was made not long ago by a little journal which a New Jersey railroad -publishes in the interest of its suburban passenger traffic. It was -shown, by actual names and places of residence, that more than three -fourths of the writers who keep the suburban joke alive live in Suburbia -themselves. - -New York has no Latin Quarter. As her publications are scattered over -the city from Park Row to Forty-second Street, so the dwellings of -free-lance workers are found everywhere above Washington Square. There -are numerous centres, however. Washington Square is one for newspaper -men and women, and in its boarding-houses and apartment hotels are also -found many artists who labor in studios near by. Tenth Street, between -Broadway and Sixth Avenue, has a few studios remaining, surrounded by -the rising tide of the wholesale clothing trade, chief among them being -the Fleischmann Building, next Grace Church, and the old studio building -near Sixth Avenue. More old studios are found in Fourteenth Street; and -around Union Square the new skyscrapers house a prosperous class of -illustrators who do not follow the practice of living with their work. -On the south side of Twenty-third Street, from Broadway to Fourth -Avenue, is a row of old-time studios, and pretty much the whole gridiron -of cross streets between Union and Madison squares has others, old and -new. Thence, Grub Street proceeds steadily uptown until, in the -neighborhood of Central Park, it may be said to have arrived. - -Look over the roofs in any of these districts and the toplight hoods may -be seen, always facing north, as though great works were expected from -that point of the compass. Grub Street is the top layer of New York, and -dislikes to be far from the roof. A studio that has been inhabited by a -succession of artists and writers for twenty, thirty, forty years, may -be tenanted to-day by a picturesque young man in slouch hat, loose -neckerchief, and paint-flecked clothes, who eats about at cheap cafés, -and sleeps on a cot that in daytime serves as a lounge under its dusty -Oriental canopy. The latter ornament is the unfailing mark of that kind -of studio, and with it go, in some combination, a Japanese umbrella and -a fish-net. This young man makes advertising pictures, perhaps, or puts -the frames around the half-tone illustrations for a Sunday newspaper. By -that he lives, and for his present fame draws occasional “comics” for -_Life_. But with an eye to Immortality, he paints, so that there are -always sketching trips to be made, and colors to putter with, and art, -sacred art, to talk of in the terms of the technician. Or such an old -studio may shelter some forlorn spinster who ekes out a timid existence -by painting dinner cards or the innumerable whatnots produced and sold -by her class in Grub Street. - -In the newer studios are found two methods of working. Prosperous -illustrators, writers, and teachers may prefer a studio in an office -building, where no one is permitted to pass the night, conducting their -affairs with the aid of a stenographer and an office boy. Others live -and work in the newer studios that have been built above Twenty-third -Street in the past decade. Few of the traditions of Bohemia are -preserved by successful men and women. The young man of the Sunday -supplement, and the amateur dauber, once he succeeds as a magazine -illustrator, drops his slouch hat, becomes conventional in dress, and -ceases to imitate outwardly an artistic era that is past. Success brings -him in contact with persons of truer tastes, and he changes to match his -new environment. This is so fundamental in Grub Street that the ability -of any of its denizens may be gauged by the editor’s experienced eye; -the less a given individual dresses like the traditional artist or -writer of the Parisian Latin Quarter, the nearer he is, probably, to -being one. - -Women make up a large proportion of the dwellers in Grub Street, and its -open market, holding to no distinctions of sex in payment for acceptable -work, is in their favor. Any of the individual markets offers a fair -field for their work, and in most of them the feminine product is sought -as a foil to the staple masculine. - -What is the average Grub Street income? That would be difficult to know, -for the free lance, as a rule, keeps no cash-book. Many workers exist on -earnings no larger than those of a country clergyman, viewed -comparatively from the standpoint of expenses, and among them are men -and women of real ability. Given the magic of business tact, they might -soon double their earnings. Business ability is the secret of monetary -success in Greater Grub Street. One must know where to sell, and also -what to produce. It pays to aim high and get into the currents of the -best demand, where prices are better, terms fairer, and competition an -absolute nullity. Even the cheapest magazines and newspapers pay well -when the free lance knows how to produce for them. Hundreds of workers -are ill paid because they have not the instinct of the compiler. -Scissors are mightier than the pen in this material market; with them -the skillful ones write original articles and books—various information -brought together in a new focus. - -While untold thousands of impossible articles drift about the editorial -offices, these editors are looking for what they cannot often describe. -A successful worker in Grub Street divines this need and submits the -thing itself. Often the need is most tangible. For two weeks after the -Martinique disaster the newspapers and syndicates were hunting articles -about volcanoes—not profound treatises, but ordinary workmanlike -accounts such as could be tried out of any encyclopedia. Yet hundreds of -workers, any one of whom might have compiled the needed articles, -continued to send in compositions dealing with abstract subjects, things -far from life and events, and were turned down in the regular routine. -Only a small proportion of free lances ever become successful, but those -who do, achieve success by attention to demand, with the consequence -that most of their work is sold before it is written. - -This community is perhaps the most diversified to be found in a national -centre of thought and energy. Paris, London, Munich, Vienna, Rome—each -has the artistic tradition and atmosphere, coming down through the -centuries. But this Grub Street of the new world is wholly material,—a -“boom town” of the arts,—embodying in its brain and heart only -prospects, hopes. Its artistic rating is written plainly in our current -literature. There is real artistic struggle and aspiration in it all, -undoubtedly, but not enough to sweeten the mass. - -Greater Grub Street is utilitarian. That which propels it is not Art, -but Advertising—not Clio or Calliope, but Circulation. - - - - - JOURNALISM AS A CAREER - - BY CHARLES MOREAU HARGER - - - I - -In a recent discussion with a successful business man concerning an -occupation for the business man’s son, a college graduate, some one -suggested: “Set him up with a newspaper. He likes the work and is -capable of success.” - -“Nothing in it,” was the prompt reply. “He can make more money with a -clothing store, have less worry and annoyance, and possess the respect -of more persons.” - -This response typifies the opinion of many fathers regarding a newspaper -career. It is especially common to the business man in the rural and -semi-rural sections. The dry-goods merchant who has a stock worth twenty -thousand dollars, and makes a profit of from three thousand dollars to -five thousand dollars a year, realizes that the editor’s possessions are -meagre, and believes his income limited. He likewise hears complaints -and criticisms of the paper. Comparing his own placid money-making -course with, what he assumes to be the stormy and unprofitable struggle -of the publisher, he considers the printing business an inferior -occupation. - -For this view the old-time editor is largely responsible. For decades it -was his pride to make constant reference to his poverty-stricken -condition, to beg subscribers to bring cord-wood and potatoes on -subscription, to glorify as a philanthropist the farmer who “called -to-day and dropped a dollar in the till.” The poor-editor joke is as -well established as the mother-in-law joke or the lover-and-angry-father -joke, and about as unwarranted; yet it has built up a sentiment, false -in fact and suggestion, often accepted as truth. - -To the younger generation, journalism presents another aspect. The -fascination of doing things, of being in the forefront of the world’s -activities, appeals to young men and young women of spirit. Few are they -who do not consider themselves qualified to succeed should they choose -this profession. To the layman it seems so easy and so pleasant to write -the news and comment of the day, to occupy a seat on the stage at public -meetings, to pass the fire-lines unquestioned. - -Not until the first piece of copy is handed in does the beginner -comprehend the magnitude of his task or the demand made upon him for -technical skill. When he sees the editor slash, blue-pencil, and -rearrange his story, he appreciates how much he has yet to learn. Of -this he was ignorant in his high school and his college days, and he was -confident of his ability. An expression of choice of a life-work by the -freshman class of a college or university will give a large showing for -journalism; in the senior year it will fall to a minor figure, not more -than from three to seven per cent of the whole. By that period the -students have learned some things concerning life, and have decided, -either because of temperament, or as did the business man for his son, -for some other profession. - -To those who choose it deliberately as a life-work, obtaining a position -presents as many difficulties as it does in any other profession. The -old-time plan by which the beginner began as “devil,” sweeping out the -office, cleaning the presses, and finally rising to be compositor and -writer, is in these days of specialization out of date. The newspaper -business has as distinct departments as a department store. While a full -knowledge of every part of the workings of the office is unquestionably -valuable, the eager aspirant finds time too limited to serve a long -apprenticeship at the mechanical end in order to prepare himself for the -writing-room. - -Hence we find the newspaper worker seeking a new preparation. He strives -for a broad knowledge, rather than mechanical training, and it is from -such preparation that he enters the newspaper office with the best -chances of success. Once the college man in the newspaper office was a -joke. His sophomoric style was the object of sneers and jeers from the -men who had been trained in the school of actual practice at the desk. -To-day few editors hold to the idea that there can be no special -preparation worth while outside the office, just as you find few farmers -sneering at the work of agricultural colleges. It is not uncommon to -find the staff of a great newspaper composed largely of college men, and -when a new man is sought for the writing force it is usually one with a -college degree who obtains the place. It is recognized that the ability -to think clearly, to write understandable English, and to know the big -facts of the world and its doings, are essential, and that college -training fits the young man of brains for this. Such faults as may have -been acquired can easily be corrected. - -Along with the tendency toward specialization in other directions, -colleges and universities have established schools or departments of -journalism in which they seek to assist those students who desire to -follow that career. It is not a just criticism of such efforts to say, -as some editors have said, that it is impossible to give practical -experience outside a newspaper office. Such an opinion implies that news -and comment can be written only within sound of a printing-press; yet a -vast deal of actual everyday work on the papers themselves is done by -persons outside the office. - -About twenty colleges and universities, chiefly in the Middle West and -Northwest, have established such schools. They range in their curriculum -from courses of lectures by newspaper men continued through a part of -the four-years’ course, to complete schools with a systematic course of -study comprehending general culture, history, and science, with actual -work on a daily paper published by the students themselves, on which, -under the guidance of an experienced newspaper man, they fill creditably -every department and assist in the final make-up of the publication. -They even gain a fair comprehension of the workings of linotypes, -presses, and the details of composition, without attempting to attain -such hand-skill as to make them eligible to positions in the mechanical -department. - -These students, in addition to possessing the broad culture that comes -with a college degree, know how to write a “story,” how to frame a -headline, how to construct editorial comment, and they certainly enter -the newspaper office lacking the crudeness manifested by those who have -all the details of newspaper style to learn. This sort of schooling does -not make newspaper men of the unfit, but to the fit it gives a -preparation that saves them much time in attaining positions of value. -That a course of this kind will become an integral part of many more -colleges is probable. - -In these schools some of the most capable students enroll. They are the -young men and young women of literary tastes and keen ambitions. They -are as able as the students who elect law, or science, or engineering. -From months of daily work in a class-room fitted up like the city room -of a great newspaper, with definite news-assignments and tasks that -cover the whole field of writing for the press, they can scarcely fail -to absorb some of the newspaper spirit, and graduate with a fairly -definite idea of what is to be required of them. - - - II - -Then there comes the question, where shall the start be made? Is it best -to begin on the small paper and work toward metropolitan journalism? or -to seek a reporter’s place on the city daily and work for advancement? - -Something is to be said for the latter course. The editor of one of the -leading New York dailies remarked the other day: “The man who begins in -New York, and stays with it, rises if he be capable. Changes in the -staffs are frequent, and in a half-dozen years he finds himself well up -the ladder. It takes him about that long to gain a good place in a -country town, and then if he goes to the city he must begin at the -bottom with much time wasted.” This is, however, not the essential -argument. - -Who is the provincial newspaper man? Where is found the broadest -development, the largest conception of journalism? To the beginner the -vision is not clear. If he asks the busy reporter, the nervous special -writer on a metropolitan journal, he gets this reply: “If I could only -own a good country paper and be my own master!” Then, turning to the -country editor, he is told: “It is dull in the country town—if I could -get a place on a city journal where things are happening!” Each can give -reasons for his ambition, and each has from his experience and -observation formed an _ex parte_ opinion. Curiously, in view of the -glamour that surrounds the city worker, and the presumption that he has -attained the fullest possible equipment for the newspaper field, he is -less likely to succeed with satisfaction to himself on a country paper -than is the country editor who finds a place in the city. - -The really provincial journalist, the worker whose scope and ideals are -most limited, is often he who has spent years as a part of a great -newspaper-making machine. Frequently, when transplanted to what he -considers a narrower field, which is actually one of wider demands, he -fails in complete efficiency. The province of the city paper is one of -news-selection. Out of the vast skein of the day’s happenings what shall -it select? More “copy” is thrown away than is used. The _New York Sun_ -is written as definitely for a given constituency as is a technical -journal. Out of the day’s news it gives prominence to that which fits -into its scheme of treatment, and there is so much news that it can fill -its columns with interesting material, yet leave untouched a myriad of -events. The _New York Evening Post_ appeals to another constituency, and -is made accordingly. The _World_ and _Journal_ have a far different -plan, and “play up” stories that are mentioned briefly, or ignored, by -some of their contemporaries. So the writer on the metropolitan paper is -trained to sift news, to choose from his wealth of material that which -the paper’s traditions demand shall receive attention; and so abundant -is the supply that he can easily set a feast without exhausting the -market’s offering. Unconsciously he becomes an epicure, and knows no day -will dawn without bringing him his opportunity. - -What happens when a city newspaper man goes to the country? Though he -may have all the graces of literary skill and know well the art of -featuring his material, he comes to a new journalistic world. Thus did -the manager of a flourishing evening daily in a city of fifty thousand -put it: “I went to a leading metropolitan daily to secure a city editor, -and took a man recommended as its most capable reporter, one with years -of experience in the city field. Brought to the new atmosphere, he was -speedily aware of the changed conditions. In the run of the day’s news -rarely was there a murder, with horrible details as sidelights; no -heiress eloped with a chauffeur; no fire destroyed tenements and lives; -no family was broken up by scandal. He was at a loss to find material -with which to make local pages attractive. He was compelled to give -attention to a wide range of minor occurrences, most of which he had -been taught to ignore. In the end he resigned. I found it more -satisfactory to put in his place a young man who had worked on a -small-town daily and was in sympathy with the things that come close to -the whole community, who realized that all classes of readers must be -interested in the paper, all kinds of happenings reported, and the paper -be made each evening a picture of the total sum of the day’s events, -rather than of a few selected happenings. The news-supply is limited, -and all must be used and arranged to interest readers—and we reach all -classes of readers, not a selected constituency.” - -The small-town paper must do this, and because its writers are forced so -to look upon their field they obtain a broader comprehension of the -community life than do those who are restricted to special ideas and -special conceptions of the paper’s plans. The beginner who finds his -first occupation on a country paper, by which is meant a paper in one of -the smaller cities, is likely to obtain a better all-round knowledge of -everything that must be done in a newspaper office than the man who goes -directly to a position on a thoroughly organized metropolitan journal. -He does not secure, however, such helpful training in style or such -expert drill in newspaper methods. He is left to work out his own -salvation, sometimes becoming an adept, but frequently dragging along in -mediocrity. When he goes from the small paper to the larger one, he has -a chance to acquire efficiency rapidly. The editor of one of the -country’s greatest papers says that he prefers to take young men of such -training, and finds that they have a broader vision than when educated -in newspaper-making from the bottom in his own office. - -It is easy to say, as did the merchant concerning his son, that there -are few chances for financial success in journalism. Yet it is probable -that for the man of distinction in journalism the rewards are not less -than they are in other professions. The salaries on the metropolitan -papers are liberal, and are becoming greater each year as the business -of news-purveying becomes better systematized and more profitable. The -newspaper man earns vastly more than the minister. The editor in the -city gets as much out of life as do the attorneys. The country editor, -with his plant worth five thousand dollars or ten thousand dollars, -frequently earns for his labors as satisfactory an income as the banker; -while the number of editors of country weeklies who have a profit of -three thousand dollars or more from their papers is astonishing. - -It is, of course, not always so, any more than it is true that the -lawyer, preacher, or physician always possesses a liberal income. When -the city editor makes sport of the ill-printed country paper, he forgets -under what conditions the country editor at times works. A prosperous -publisher with sympathy in his heart put it this way:— - -“The other day we picked up a dinky weekly paper that comes to our desk -every week. As usual we found something in it that made us somewhat -tired, and we threw it down in disgust. For some reason we picked it up -again and looked at it more closely. Our feelings, somehow or other, -began to change. We noted the advertisements. They were few in number, -and we knew that the wolf was standing outside the door of that little -print-shop and howling. The ads were poorly gotten up, but we knew why. -The poor fellow didn’t have enough material in his shop to get up a good -ad. It was poorly printed—almost unreadable in spots. We knew again what -was the matter. He needed new rollers and some decent ink, but probably -he didn’t have the money to buy them. One of the few locals spoke about -‘the editor and family.’ So he had other mouths to feed. He was burning -midnight oil in order to save hiring a printer. He couldn’t afford it. -True, he isn’t getting out a very good paper, but at that, he is giving -a whole lot more than he is receiving. It is easy to poke fun at the -dinky papers when the waves of prosperity are breaking in over your own -doorstep. Likely, if we were in that fellow’s place we couldn’t do as -well as he does.” - -The profession of the publicist naturally leads to politics, and the -editor is directly in the path to political preferment. The growth of -the primary system adds greatly to the chance in this direction. One of -the essentials of success at a primary is that the candidate have a wide -acquaintance with the public, that his name shall have been before the -voters sufficiently often for them to become familiar with it. The -editor who has made his paper known acquires this acquaintance. He goes -into the campaign with a positive asset. One western state, for -instance, has newspaper men for one third of its state officers and -forty per cent of its delegation in Congress. This is not exceptional. -It is merely the result of the special conditions, both of fitness and -prominence, in the editor’s relation to the public. - -This very facility for entering politics is perhaps an objection rather -than a benefit. The editor who is a seeker after office finds himself -hampered by his ambitions and he is robbed of much of the independence -that goes to make his columns of worth. The ideal position is when the -editor owns, clear of debt, a profit-making plant and is not a candidate -for any office. Just so far as he departs from this condition does he -find himself restricted in the free play of his activities. If debt -hovers, there is temptation to seek business at the expense of editorial -utterance; if he desires votes, he must temporize often in order to win -friendships or to avoid enmities. Freedom from entangling alliances, -absolutely an open way, should be the ambition of the successful -newspaper worker. Fortunate is the subordinate who has an employer so -situated, for in such an office can be done the best thinking and the -clearest writing. Though he may succeed in other paths, financially, -socially, and politically, he will lack in his career some of the finer -enjoyments that can come only with unobstructed vision. - - - III - -It is not agreed that everyday newspaper work gives especial fitness for -progress in literature. The habit of rapid writing, of getting a story -to press to catch the first edition, has the effect for many of creating -a style unfitted for more serious effort. Yet when temperament and taste -are present, there is no position in which the aspirant for a place in -the literary field has greater opportunity. To be in touch with the -thought and the happenings of the world gives opportunity for -interpretation of life to the broader public of the magazine and the -published volume. Newspaper work does not make writers of books, but -experience therein obtained does open the way; and the successes, both -in fiction and economics, that have come in the past decade from the -pens of newspaper workers is ample evidence of the truth of this -statement. - -It is one of the criticisms of the press that it corrupts beginners and -not only gives them a false view of life, but compels them to do things -abhorrent to those possessed of the finer feelings of good taste and -courtesy. The fact is that journalism is, to a larger degree than almost -all other businesses or professions, individualistic. It is to each -worker what he makes it. The minister has his way well defined; he must -keep in it or leave the profession. The teacher is restrained within -limits; the lawyer and physician, if they would retain standing, must -follow certain codes. The newspaper worker is a free lance compared with -any of these. - -The instances in which a reporter is asked to do things in opposition to -the best standards of ethics and courtesy are rare—and becoming rarer. -The paper of to-day, though a business enterprise as well as a medium of -publicity and comment, has a higher ideal than that of two decades ago. -The rivalry is greater, the light of competition is stronger, the -relation to the public is closer. Little mystery surrounds the press. -Seldom does the visitor stand open-eyed in wonder before the “sanctum.” -The average man and woman know how “copy” is prepared, how type is set, -how the presses operate. The newspaper office is an “open shop” compared -with the early printing-offices, of which the readers of papers stood -somewhat in awe. Because of this, there is less temptation and less -opportunity for obscure methods. The profession offers to the young man -and young woman an opportunity for intelligent and untainted occupation. -Should there be a demand that seems unreasonable or in bad taste, plenty -of places are open on papers that have a higher standard of morals and -are conducted with a decent respect for the opinions and rights of the -public. - -Nor is it necessary that the worker indulge in any pyrotechnics in -maintaining his self-respect. The editor of one of the leading papers of -western New York quietly resigned his position because he could not with -a clear conscience support the nominee favored by the owner of the -paper. He did nothing more than many men have done in other positions. -His action was not proof that his employer was dishonest, but that there -were two points of view and he could not accept the one favored by the -publisher. Such a course is always open, and so wide is the publishing -world that there is no need for any one to suffer. Nor can a paper or an -editor fence in the earth. With enough capital to buy a press and paper, -and to hire a staff, any one can have his say—and frequently the most -unpromising field proves a bonanza for the man with courage and -initiative. - -In a long and varied experience as editor, I have rarely found an -advertiser who was concerned regarding the editorial policy of the -paper. The advertiser wants publicity; he is interested in -circulation—when he obtains that, he is satisfied. Instances there are -where the advertiser has a personal interest in some local enterprise -and naturally resents criticism of its management, but such situations -can be dealt with directly and without loss of self-respect to the -publisher. Not from the advertiser comes the most interference with the -press. If there were as little from men with political schemes, men with -pet projects to promote, men (and women) desiring to use the newspaper’s -columns to boost themselves into higher positions or to acquire some -coveted honor, an independent and self-respecting editorial policy could -be maintained without material hindrance. With the right sort of good -sense and adherence to conviction on the part of the publisher it can be -maintained under present conditions—and the problem becomes simpler -every year. More papers that cannot be cajoled, bought, or bulldozed are -published to-day than ever before in the world’s history. The “organ” is -becoming extinct as the promotion of newspaper publicity becomes more a -business and less a means of gratifying ambition. - -Publishers have learned that fairness is the best policy, that it does -not pay to betray the trust of the public, and journalism becomes a more -attractive profession exactly in proportion as it offers a field where -self-respect is at a premium and bosses are unconsidered. The new -journalism demands men of high character and good habits. The old story -of the special writer who, when asked what he needed to turn out a good -story for the next day’s paper, replied, “a desk, some paper, and a -quart of whiskey,” does not apply. One of the specifications of every -request for writers is that the applicant shall not drink. Cleanliness -of life, a well-groomed appearance, a pleasing personality, are -essentials for the journalist of to-day. The pace is swift, and he must -keep his physical and mental health in perfect condition. - -That there is a new journalism, with principles and methods in harmony -with new political and social conditions and new developments in -news-transmission and the printing art, is evident. The modern newspaper -is far more a business enterprise than was the one of three decades ago. -To some observers this means the subordination of the writer to the -power of the publisher. If this be so in some instances, the correction -lies with the public. The abuse of control should bring its own -punishment in loss of patronage, or of influence, or of both. The -newspaper, be it published in a country village or in the largest city, -seeks first the confidence of its readers. Without this it cannot secure -either business for its advertising pages or influence for its -ambitions. Publicity alone may once have sufficed, but rivalry is too -keen to-day. Competition brings a realizing sense of fairness. Hence it -is that there is a demand for well-equipped young men and clever young -women who can instill into the pages of the press frankness, virility, -and a touch of what newspaper men call “human interest.” - -The field is broad; it has place for writers of varied accomplishments; -it promises a profession filled with interesting experiences and close -contact with the world’s pulse. It is not for the sloth or for the -sloven, not for the conscienceless or for the unprepared. Without real -qualifications for it, the ambitious young person would better seek some -other life-work. - - - - - BIBLIOGRAPHY - - - 1. Books on Principles of Journalism - - Adams, Samuel Hopkins. The Clarion. A novel. 1914. - - Bleyer, W. G. Newspaper Writing and Editing. The Function of the - Newspaper, pp. 331–389. 1913. - - Hapgood, Norman. Everyday Ethics. Ethics of Journalism, pp. 1–15. - 1910. - - Holt, Hamilton. Commercialism and Journalism. 1909. - - Proceedings of the First National Newspaper Conference. University of - Wisconsin. 1913. - - Reid, Whitelaw. American and English Studies. Journalistic Duties and - Opportunities, v. 2, pp. 313–344. 1913. - - Rogers, Jason. Newspaper Building. 1918. - - Rogers, J. E. The American Newspaper. 1909. - - Scott-James, R. A. The Influence of the Press. 1913. - - Thorpe, Merle, _editor_. The Coming Newspaper. 1915. - - - 2. What Typical Newspapers Contain - - Wilcox, Delos F. The American Newspaper: A Study in Social Psychology. - Annals of the American Academy, v. 16, p. 56. (July, 1900.) - - Garth, T. R. Statistical Study of the Contents of Newspapers. School - and Society, v. 3, p. 140. (Jan. 22, 1916.) - - Tenney, A. A. Scientific Analysis of the Press. Independent, v. 73, p. - 895. (Oct. 17, 1912.) - - Mathews, B. C. Study of a New York Daily. Independent, v. 68, p. 82. - (Jan. 13, 1910.) - - - 3. What the Public Wants - - Thorpe, Merle, _editor_. The Coming Newspaper, pp. 223–247; Symposium: - Giving the Public What It Wants, by newspaper and magazine - editors. 1915. - - Independent Chicago Journalist, An. Is an Honest and Sane Newspaper - Possible? American Journal of Sociology, v. 15, p. 321. (Nov. - 1909.) - - What the Public Wants. Dial, v. 47, p. 499. (Dec. 16, 1909.) - - Haskell, H. J. The Public, the Newspaper’s Problem. Outlook, v. 91, p. - 791. (April 3, 1909.) - - Stansell, C. V. People’s Wants. Nation, v. 98, p. 236. (March 6, - 1914.) - - Newspapers as Commodities. Nation, v. 94, p. 236. (May 9, 1912.) - - Scott, Walter Dill. The Psychology of Advertising, pp. 226–248. 1908. - - Bennett, Arnold. What the Public Wants. A play. 1910. - - - 4. What Is News? - - What Is News? A Symposium from the Managing Editors of the Great - American Newspapers. Collier’s Weekly, v. 46, p. 22 (March 18, - 1911); v. 47, p. 44 (April 15, 1911); v. 47, p. 35 (May 6, 1911); - v. 47, p. 42 (May 13, 1911); v. 47, p. 26 (May 20, 1911). - - Irwin, Will. What Is News? Collier’s Weekly, v. 46, p. 16. (March 11, - 1911.) - - What Is News? Outlook, v. 89, p. 137. (May 23, 1908.) - - What Is News? Scribner, v. 44, p. 507. (Oct. 1908.) - - Brougham, H. B. News—What Is It? Harper’s Weekly, v. 56, p. 21. (Feb. - 17, 1912.) - - - 5. The Reporter and the News - - Irwin, Will. “All the News That’s Fit to Print.” Collier’s Weekly, v. - 47, p. 17. (May 6, 1911.) - - Irwin, Will. The Reporter and the News. Collier’s Weekly, v. 47, p. - 21. (April 22, 1911.) - - Münsterberg, Hugo. The Case of the Reporter. McClure’s Magazine, v. - 36, p. 435. (Feb. 1911.) - - Strunsky, Simeon. Two Kinds of Reporters. Century, v. 85, p. 955. - (April 1913.) - - Gentlemanly Reporter, The. Century, v. 79, p. 149. (Nov. 1909.) - - Dealing in Scandal. Outlook, v. 97, p. 811. (April 15, 1911.) - - Seldes, G. H. and G. V. The Press and the Reporter. Forum, v. 52, p. - 722. (Nov. 1914.) - - - 6. Effects of News of Crime and Scandal - - Fenton, Francis. Influence of Newspaper Presentation upon the Growth - of Crime and Other Anti-social Activity. 1911. Also in American - Journal of Sociology, v. 16, pp. 342 and 538. (Nov. 1910, and Jan. - 1911.) - - Phelps, E. B. Neurotic Books and Newspapers as Factors in the - Mortality of Suicides and Crime. Bulletin of the American Academy - of Medicine, v. 12, No. 5. (Oct. 1911.) - - Newspapers’ Sensations and Suggestion. Independent, v. 62, p. 449. - (Feb. 21, 1907.) - - Tragic Sense. Nation, v. 87, p. 90. (July 30, 1908.) - - Danger of the Sensational Press. Craftsman, v. 19, p. 211. (Nov. - 1910.) - - Howells, W. D. Shocking News. Harper’s Magazine, v. 127, p. 796. (Oct. - 1913.) - - Irwin, Will. “All the News That’s Fit to Print.” Collier’s Weekly, v. - 47, p. 17. (May 6, 1911.) - - Responsibility of the Press. Independent, v. 53, p. 2248. (Sept. 19, - 1901.) - - Our Chamber of Horrors. Outlook, v. 99, p. 261. (Sept. 30, 1911.) - - The Newspaper as Childhood’s Enemy. Survey, v. 27, p. 1794. (Feb. 24, - 1912.) - - Lessons in Crime at Fifty Cents per Month. Outlook, v. 85, p. 276. - (Feb. 2, 1907.) - - The Man Who Ate Babies. Harper’s Weekly, v. 51, p. 296. (March 2, - 1907.) - - Lawlessness and the Press. Century, v. 82, p. 146. (May 1911.) - - Newspaper Responsibility for Lawlessness. Nation, v. 77, p. 151. (Aug. - 20, 1903.) - - Newspaper Invasion of Privacy. Century, v. 86, p. 310. (June 1913.) - - Newspaper Cruelty. Century, v. 84, p. 150. (May 1912.) - - Newspapers and Crime. Journal of Criminal Law, v. 2, p. 340. (Sept. - 1912.) - - - 7. Yellow and Sensational Journalism - - Irwin, Will. The Fourth Current. Collier’s Weekly, v. 46, p. 14. (Feb. - 18, 1911.) - - Irwin, Will. The Spread and Decline of Yellow Journalism. Collier’s - Weekly, v. 46, p. 18. (March 4, 1911.) - - Thomas, W. I. The Psychology of the Yellow Journal. American Magazine, - v. 65, p. 491. (March 1908.) - - Brooks, Sydney. The Yellow Press: An English View. Harper’s Weekly, v. - 55, p. 11. (Dec. 23, 1911.) - - Whibley, Charles. The American Yellow Press. Blackwood’s, v. 181, p. - 531 (April 1907); also in Bookman, v. 25, p. 239. (May 1907.) - - Brisbane, Arthur. Yellow Journalism. Bookman, v. 19, p. 400. (June - 1904.) - - Brisbane, Arthur. William Randolph Hearst. North American Review, v. - 183, p. 511 (Sept. 21, 1906); editorial comment on this article, - by George Harvey, on p. 569. - - Commander, Lydia K. The Significance of Yellow Journalism. Arena, v. - 34, p. 150. (Aug. 1905.) - - Brunner, F. J. Home Newspapers and Others. Harper’s Weekly, v. 58, p. - 24. (Jan. 10, 1914.) - - Pennypacker, S. W. Sensational Journalism and the Remedy. North - American Review, v. 190, p. 587. (Nov. 1909.) - - Curb for the Sensational Press. Century, v. 83, p. 631. (Feb. 1912.) - - - 8. Inaccuracy - - Smith, Munroe. The Dogma of Journalistic Inerrancy. North American - Review, v. 187, p. 240. (Feb. 1908.) - - Collins, James H. The Newspaper—An Independent Business. Saturday - Evening Post, v. 185, p. 25. (April 12, 1913.) - - Kelley, Fred C. Accuracy Pays in Any Business: New York World’s Bureau - of Accuracy and Fair Play. American Magazine, v. 82, p. 50. (Nov. - 1916.) - - New Credulity. Nation, v. 80, p. 241. (March 30, 1905.) - - Fakes and the Press. Science, v. 25, p. 391. (March 8, 1907.) - - Newspaper Science. Science, v. 25, p. 630. (April 19, 1907.) - - Gladden, Washington. Experiences with Newspapers. Outlook, v. 99, p. - 387. (Oct. 14, 1911.) - - Irwin, Will. The New Era. Collier’s Weekly, v. 47, p. 15. (July 8, - 1911.) - - Print the News. Outlook, v. 96, p. 563. (Nov. 12, 1910.) - - Falsification of the News. Independent, v. 84, p. 420. (Dec. 13, - 1915.) - - - 9. Faking - - Faking as a Fine Art. American Magazine, v. 75, p. 24. (Nov. 1912.) - - Bok, Edward. Why People Disbelieve the Newspapers. World’s Work, v. 7, - p. 4567. (March 1904.) - - Offenses Against Good Journalism. Outlook, v. 88, p. 479. (Feb. 29, - 1908.) - - Lying for the Sake of War. Nation, v. 98, p. 561. (May 14, 1914.) - - Wheeler, H. D. At the Front with Willie Hearst. Harper’s Weekly, v. - 61, p. 340. (Oct. 9, 1915.) - - Russell, Isaac. Hearst-made War News. Harper’s Weekly, v. 59, p. 76. - (July 25, 1914.) - - Hearst-made War News. Harper’s Weekly, v. 59, p. 186. (Aug. 22, 1914.) - - Dream Book. Outlook, v. 111, p. 535. (Nov. 3, 1915.) - - Hall, Howard. Hearst: War-maker. Harper’s Weekly, v. 61, p. 436. (Nov. - 6, 1915.) - - Pulitzer, Ralph. Profession of Journalism: Accuracy in the News. - Pamphlet published by the New York World. 1912. - - - 10. Coloring the News - - Irwin, Will. The Editor and the News. Collier’s Weekly, v. 47, p. 18. - (April 1, 1911.) - - Irwin, Will. Our Kind of People. Collier’s Weekly, v. 47, p. 17. (June - 17, 1911.) - - Irwin, Will. The New Era. Collier’s Weekly, v. 47, p. 15. (July 8, - 1911.) - - Irwin, Will. The Press Agent. Collier’s Weekly, v. 48, p. 24. (Dec. 2, - 1911.) - - Confessions of a Managing Editor. Collier’s Weekly, v. 48, p. 18. - (Oct. 28, 1911.) - - Tainted News as Seen in the Making. Bookman, v. 24, p. 396. (Dec. - 1906.) - - Baker, Ray Stannard. How Railroads Make Public Opinion. McClure’s - Magazine, v. 26, p. 535. (March 1906.) - - How the Reactionary Press Poisons the Public Mind. Arena, v. 38, p. - 318. (Sept. 1907.) - - - 11. Suppression of News - - Irwin, Will. The Power of the Press. Collier’s Weekly, v. 46, p. 15. - (Jan. 21, 1911.) - - Irwin, Will. Advertising Influence. Collier’s Weekly, v. 47, p. 15. - (May 27, 1911.) - - Irwin, Will. Our Kind of People. Collier’s Weekly, v. 47, p. 17. (June - 17, 1911.) - - Irwin, Will. The Foe Within. Collier’s Weekly, v. 47, p. 17. (July 1, - 1911.) - - The Patent Medicine Conspiracy against the Freedom of the Press. - Collier’s Weekly, v. 36, p. 13. (Nov. 4, 1905.) - - Silencing the Press. Nation, v. 76, p. 4. (Jan. 1, 1903.) - - Stansell, C. V. Ethics of News Suppression. Nation, v. 96, p. 54. - (Jan. 16, 1913.) - - A Real Case of Tainted News. Collier’s Weekly, v. 53, p. 16. (June 6, - 1914.) - - Seitz, Don C. The Honor of the Press. Harper’s Weekly, v. 55, p. 11. - (May 6, 1911.) - - Can the Wool Trust Gag the Press? Collier’s Weekly, v. 46, p. 11. - (March 18, 1911.) - - Holt, Hamilton. Commercialism and Journalism. 1909. - - - 12. Editorial Policy and Influence - - Kemp, R. W. The Policy of the Paper. Bookman, v. 20, p. 310. (Dec. - 1904.) - - Blake, Tiffany. The Editorial: Past, Present, and Future. Collier’s - Weekly, v. 48, p. 18. (Sept. 23, 1911.) - - The Editorial Yesterday and To-day. World’s Work, v. 21, p. 14071. - (March 1911.) - - Editorialene. Nation, v. 74, p. 459. (June 12, 1902.) - - Irwin, Will. The Unhealthy Alliance. Collier’s Weekly, v. 47, p. 17. - (June 3, 1911.) - - Shackled Editor. Collier’s Weekly, v. 51, p. 22. (April 12, 1913.) - - Fisher, Brooke. The Newspaper Industry. Atlantic Monthly, v. 89, p. - 745. (June 1902.) - - Porritt, Edward. The Value of Political Editorials. Atlantic, v. 105, - p. 62. (Jan. 1910.) - - Haste, R. A. Evolution of the Fourth Estate. Arena, v. 41, p. 348. - (March 1909.) - - We. Independent, v. 70, p. 1280. (Jan. 8, 1911.) - - Bonaparte, Charles J. Government of Public Opinion. Forum, v. 40, p. - 384. (Oct. 1908.) - - Ogden, Rollo. Journalism and Public Opinion. American Political - Science Review, Supplement, v. 7, p. 194. (Feb. 1913.) - - Williams, Talcott. The Press and Public Opinion. American Political - Science Review, Supplement, v. 7, p. 201. (Feb. 1913.) - - - 13. The Associated Press and the United Press - - Beach, H. L. Getting Out the News. Saturday Evening Post, v. 182, p. - 18. (March 12, 1910.) - - Noyes, F. B. The Associated Press. North American Review, v. 197, p. - 701. (May 1913.) - - Stone, Melville E. The Associated Press. Century, vv. 69 and 70. - (April to Aug. 1905.) - - Irwin, Will. What’s Wrong with the Associated Press? Harper’s Weekly, - v. 58, p. 10. (March 28, 1914.) - - Is There a News Monopoly? Collier’s Weekly, v. 53, p. 16. (June 6, - 1914.) - - Stone, Melville E. The Associated Press: A Defense. Collier’s Weekly, - v. 53, p. 28. (July 11, 1914.) - - Mason, Gregory. The Associated Press: A Criticism. Outlook, v. 107, p. - 237. (May 30, 1914.) - - Kennan, George. The Associated Press: A Defense. Outlook, v. 107, p. - 240. (May 30, 1914.) - - The Associated Press as a Trust. Literary Digest, v. 48, p. 364. (Feb. - 21, 1914.) - - The Associated Press Under Fire. Outlook, v. 106, p. 426. (Feb. 28, - 1914.) - - Criticisms of the Associated Press. Outlook, v. 107, p. 631. (July 18, - 1914.) - - Irwin, Will. The United Press. Harper’s Weekly, v. 58, p. 6. (April - 25, 1914.) - - Roy W. Howard, General Manager of the United Press. American Magazine, - V. 75, p. 41. (Nov. 1912.) - - Howard, Roy W. Government Regulation for Press Association in Thorpe’s - The Coming Newspaper, pp. 188–204. 1915. - - - 14. Ethics of Newspaper Advertising - - The Patent Medicine Conspiracy against the Freedom of the Press. - Collier’s Weekly, v. 36, p. 13. (Nov. 4, 1905.) - - Adams, Samuel Hopkins. The Great American Fraud. A series of articles - in Collier’s Weekly, vv. 36 and 37. (Oct. 7, 1905, to Sept. 22, - 1906.) Published as a book, with the same title, in 1906. - - Creel, George. The Press and Patent Medicines. Harper’s Weekly, v. 60, - p. 155. (Feb. 13, 1915.) - - Roberts, W. D. Pursued by Cardui. Harper’s Weekly, v. 60, p. 175. - (Feb. 20, 1915.) - - Waldo, Richard H. The Second Candle of Journalism, in Thorpe’s The - Coming Newspaper, pp. 248–261. 1915. - - Roosevelt, Theodore. Applied Ethics in Journalism. Outlook, v. 97, p. - 807. (April 15, 1911.) - - The Lure of Fake Sales. Current Opinion, v. 56, p. 223. (March 1914.) - - Adams, Samuel Hopkins. Tricks of the Trade. Collier’s Weekly, v. 48, - p. 17. (Feb. 17, 1912.) - - Millions Lost in Fake Enterprises. Outlook, v. 100, p. 797. (April 13, - 1912.) - - Brummer, F. J. The Home Newspaper and Others. Harper’s Weekly, v. 58, - p. 24. (Jan. 10, 1914.) - - Houston, H. S. New Morals in Advertising. World’s Work, v. 28, p. 384. - (Aug. 1914.) - - Stelze, Charles. Publicity Men in a Campaign for Clean Advertising. - Outlook, v. 107, p. 589. (July 11, 1914.) - - - 15. Dramatic Criticism - - Confessions of a Dramatic Critic. Independent, v. 60, p. 492. (March - 1, 1906.) - - Armstrong, Paul, and Davis, Hartley. Manager _vs._ Critic. Everybody’s - Magazine, v. 21, p. 119. (July 1909.) - - Cudgeling the Dramatic Critics. Literary Digest, v. 48, p. 321. (Feb. - 14, 1914.) - - Serious Declaration of War Against the Dramatic Critic. Current - Opinion, v. 57, p. 328. (Nov. 1914.) - - Trials and Duties of a Dramatic Critic. Current Literature, v. 39, p. - 428. (Oct. 1905.) - - William Winter’s Retirement. Independent, v. 67, p. 487. (Aug. 26, - 1909.) - - The Newspaper and the Theatre. Outlook, v. 93, p. 12. (Sept. 4, 1909.) - - - 16. Book-Reviewing in Newspapers - - Perry, Bliss. Literary Criticism in American Periodicals. Yale Review, - v. 3, p. 635. (July 1914). - - Grocery-shop Criticism. Dial, v. 57, p. 5. (July 1, 1914.) - - Reviewing the Reviewer. Nation, v. 98, p. 288. (March 19, 1914.) - - Varieties of Book-Reviewing. Nation, v. 99, p. 8. (July 2, 1914.) - - Haines, Helen E. Present-Day Book-Reviewing. Independent, v. 69, p. - 1104. (Nov. 17, 1910.) - - Benson, A. C. Ethics of Book-Reviewing. Putnam’s, v. 1, p. 116. (Oct. - 1906.) - - Matthews, Brander. Literary Criticism and Book-Reviewing, in Gateways - to Literature, pp. 115–136. 1912. - - Woodward, W. E. Syndicate Service and Tainted Book-Reviews. Dial, v. - 56, p. 173. (March 1, 1914.) - - Book-Reviewing _à la Mode_. Nation, v. 93, p. 139. (Aug. 17, 1911.) - - - 17. Newspaper Style - - Journalistic Style. Independent, v. 64, p. 541. (March 5, 1908.) - - Newspaper English. Literary Digest, v. 47, p. 1229. (Dec. 20, 1913.) - - Scott, Fred Newton. The Undefended Gate. English Journal, v. 3, p. 1. - (Jan. 1914.) - - Bradford, Gamaliel. Journalism and Permanence. North American Review, - v. 202, pp. 239–241. (Aug. 1915.) - - Henry James on Newspaper English. Current Literature, v. 39, p. 155. - (Aug. 1905.) - - Boynton, H. W. The Literary Aspect of Journalism. Atlantic Monthly, v. - 93, p. 845. (June, 1904.) - - Perils of Punch. Nation, v. 100, p. 240. (March 4, 1915.) - - Mr. Hardy and Our Headlines. World’s Work, v. 24, p. 385. (Aug. 1912.) - - Lowes, J. L. Headline English. Nation, v. 96, p. 179. (Feb. 20, 1913.) - - - 18. Newspapers and the Law - - Schofield, Henry. Freedom of the Press in the United States. Papers - and Proceedings of the American Sociological Society, v. 9, p. 67. - 1914. - - Grasty, C. H. Reasonable Restrictions upon the Freedom of the Press - and Discussion. Papers and Proceedings of the American - Sociological Society, v. 9, p. 117. 1914. - - White, Isaac D. The Clubber in Journalism, in Thorpe’s The Coming - Newspaper, pp. 81–90. 1915. - - Bourne, Jonathan. The Newspaper Publicity Law. Review of Reviews, v. - 47, p. 175. (Feb. 1913.) - - Newspapers Opposing Publicity. Literary Digest, v. 45, p. 607. (Oct. - 12, 1912.) - - Smith, C. E. The Press: Its Liberty and License. Independent, v. 55, - p. 1371. (June 11, 1903.) - - Gamer, J. W. Trial by Newspapers. Journal of Criminal Law, v. 1, p. - 849. (Mar. 1911.) - - Keedy, E. R. Third Degree and Trial by Newspapers. Journal of Criminal - Law, v. 3, p. 502. (Nov. 1912.) - - Gilbert, S. Newspapers as Judiciary. American Journal of Sociology, v. - 12, p. 289. (Nov. 1906.) - - O’Hara, Barratt. State License for Newspaper Men, in Thorpe’s The - Coming Newspaper, pp. 148–161. 1915. - - Lawrence, David. International Freedom of the Press Essential to a - Durable Peace. Annals of the American Academy, v. 72, p. 139. - (July 1917.) - - - 19. The Country Newspaper - - White, William Allen. The Country Newspaper. Harper’s Magazine, v. - 132, p. 887. (May 1916.) - - Tennal, Ralph. A Modern Type of Country Journalism, in Thorpe’s The - Coming Newspaper, pp. 112–147. 1915. - - Bing, P. C. The Country Weekly. 1917. - - - 20. Newspapers of the Future - - Irwin, Will. The Voice of a Generation. Collier’s Weekly, v. 47, p. - 15. (July 29, 1911.) - - Low, A. Maurice. The Modern Newspaper as It Might Be. Yale Review, v. - 2, p. 282. (Jan. 1913.) - - Thorpe, Merle, _editor_. The Coming Newspaper, pp. 1–26. 1915. - - Munsey, Frank A. Journalism of the Future. Munsey Magazine, v. 28, p. - 662. (Feb. 1903.) - - Ideal Newspaper. Current Literature, v. 48, p. 335. (March 1910.) - - Murray, W. H. An Endowed Press. Arena, v. 2, p. 553. (Oct. 1890.) - - Payne, W. M. An Endowed Newspaper, in Little Leaders, p. 178–185. - 1902. - - Endowed Journalism. Literary Digest, v. 45, p. 303. (Aug. 24, 1912.) - - Holt, Hamilton. Plan for an Endowed Journal. Independent, v. 73, p. - 299. (Aug. 12, 1912.) - - Taking the Endowed Newspaper Seriously. Current Literature, v. 53, p. - 311. (Sept. 1912.) - - Municipal Newspaper, The. Independent, v. 71, p. 1342. (Dec. 14, - 1911.) - - Municipal Newspapers. Survey, v. 26, p. 720. (Aug. 19, 1911.) - - Slosson, E. E. The Possibility of a University Newspaper. Independent, - v. 72, p. 351. (Feb. 15, 1912.) - - - - - NOTES ON THE WRITERS - - -ROLLO OGDEN became a member of the editorial staff of the _New York -Evening Post_ in 1891, and has been editor of that paper since 1903. He -edited the _Life and Letters of Edwin Lawrence Godkin_, published in -1907. His article on “Some Aspects of Journalism” was published in the -_Atlantic Monthly_ for July, 1906. - -OSWALD GARRISON VILLARD, whose article, entitled “Press Tendencies and -Dangers,” appeared in the _Atlantic_ for January, 1918, is a son of the -late Henry Villard, who owned the _New York Evening Post_ and the -_Nation_, and a grandson of William Lloyd Garrison, the great -emancipator and editor of the _Liberator_. He succeeded his father as -president of the _New York Evening Post_ and of the _Nation_, to both of -which he frequently contributes editorials and special articles. - -FRANCIS E. LEUPP was actively engaged in newspaper work for thirty -years, from the time that he joined the staff of the _New York Evening -Post_ in 1874 until 1904. During half of that time, from 1889 to 1904, -he was in charge of the Washington bureau of the _Post_. Since retiring -from that position, he has been doing literary work. His article on “The -Waning Power of the Press” was published in the _Atlantic_ for February, -1910. - -H. L. MENCKEN was connected with Baltimore newspapers for nearly twenty -years, part of the time as city editor and later as editor of the -_Baltimore Herald_, and for the last twelve years as a member of the -staff of the _Baltimore Sun_, from which he has recently severed his -connection. He is now one of the editors of _Smart Set_. “Newspaper -Morals” was printed in the _Atlantic_ for March, 1914. - -RALPH PULITZER, who wrote his reply to Mr. Mencken’s article for the -_Atlantic_ for June, 1914, is a son of the late Joseph Pulitzer of the -_New York World_ and the _St. Louis Post-Dispatch_. He began newspaper -work in 1900, and since 1911 has been president of the company that -publishes the _World_. He takes an active part in the direction of the -editorial and news policies of that paper. - -PROFESSOR EDWARD A. ROSS has been an aggressive pioneer in the field of -sociology in this country and has written many books on social problems. -His study of the suppression of news, the results of which were -published in the _Atlantic_ for March, 1910, grew out of his interest in -the newspaper as a social force. - -HENRY WATTERSON, who takes issue with Professor Ross in his article on -“The Personal Equation in Journalism,” in the _Atlantic_ for July, 1910, -is the last of the great editorial leaders of Civil War days. For half a -century his trenchant editorial comments in the _Louisville -Courier-Journal_, of which he has been the editor since 1868, have been -reprinted in newspapers all over the country. - -AN OBSERVER has seen much service as the Washington correspondent of an -important newspaper. “The Problem of the Associated Press” was printed -in the _Atlantic_ for July, 1914. - -MELVILLE E. STONE, who defends the Associated Press, has been its -general manager for twenty-five years. Previous to his connection with -that organization he was associated with Victor F. Lawson in the -establishment and development of the _Chicago Daily News_. He has -written a number of articles on the work of the Associated Press. - -“PARACELSUS” sketches briefly his own career in journalism in his -“Confessions of a Provincial Editor,” published in the _Atlantic_ for -March, 1902. - -CHARLES MOREAU HARGER, as head of the department of journalism at the -University of Kansas from 1905 to 1907, was one of the first college -instructors of journalism in this country. At the same time he was -editor of the _Abilene_ (Kan.) _Daily Reflector_, which he has published -for thirty years. “The Country Editor of To-day” is taken from the -_Atlantic_ for January, 1907, and “Journalism as a Career,” from that -for February, 1911. - -GEORGE W. ALGER, author of the article on “Sensational Journalism and -the Law,” in the _Atlantic_ for February, 1903, has been engaged in the -practice of law in New York City for many years. He has taken an active -part in the framing of New York state laws protecting workers. Two books -of his, _Moral Overstrain_, 1906, and _The Old Law and the New Order_, -1913, deal with the relation of the law to social, commercial, and -industrial problems. - -RICHARD WASHBURN CHILD, although a lawyer, is best known to the reading -public as the author of novels and short stories, many of which have -been published in magazines. His article on “The Critic and the Law” -appeared in the _Atlantic_ for May, 1906. - -CHARLES MINER THOMPSON, editor-in-chief of _Youth’s Companion_, has been -a member of the staff of that periodical since 1890. Previous to that -time he was literary editor of the _Boston Advertiser_. “Honest Literary -Criticism” was published in the _Atlantic_ for August, 1908. - -JAMES S. METCALFE has been dramatic editor of _Life_ for nearly thirty -years. In 1915 he established the Metcalfe dramatic prize at Yale -University, his alma mater. His article on “Dramatic Criticism in the -American Press” appeared in the _Atlantic_ for April, 1918. - -RALPH BERGENGREN has been cartoonist, art critic, dramatic critic, and -editorial writer on various Boston newspapers, and is a frequent -contributor to magazines. “The Humor of the Colored Supplement” is taken -from the _Atlantic_ for August, 1906. - -JAMES H. COLLINS, whose article on “The American Grub Street” appeared -in the _Atlantic_ for November, 1906, is a New York publisher, best -known as the writer of articles on business methods published in the -_Saturday Evening Post_. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - OTHER ATLANTIC TEXTS - FOR THE PROGRESSIVE TEACHER - - -[Illustration] - - - - - ESSAYS AND ESSAY WRITING - - - Edited, with Notes and Introduction, by WILLIAM M. TANNER - - _University of Texas._ - -This book is a collection of about seventy-five short familiar essays -selected from the Contributors’ Club of _The Atlantic Monthly_ and -specially edited for use in advanced high school work, as well as in -college English. The selections, of about one thousand words each, are -classified under five types of the familiar essay, each type-group -preceded by a concise statement of its distinguishing characteristics. -An introduction, with suggestions for study, specific questions, and a -list of 250 suggestive titles for original essays, renders the volume -unusually valuable as a textbook for classes in composition. - -It is the aim of _Essays and Essay Writing_ to encourage the student in -discovering his own ideas and in expressing his thought in as clear, -personal, fresh, vigorous, and correct style as he can develop. An -attempt is made to assist both student and teacher to get away from the -rather trite, impersonal composition, or ‘weekly theme’. 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In -addition to acquainting students with the best in contemporary short -stories, it will help them to compare and discuss intelligently the most -eminent story-tellers, _not of yesterday, but of to-day_—the men and -women who are _now_ writing for our better publications, and whose works -must be included in any scheme of education in English which is not -one-sided. - -The volume contains a general introduction, including a suggestive -discussion of the modern short story, critical comments upon each story, -and brief biographical notes. The editor has aimed to make, not a -‘textbook’ containing short stories, but a book of short stories so good -that it will be used as a text. - - _Examination copies sent to teachers on request._ - $1.00, postpaid; school rate, 80 cents, carriage additional. - - - ATLANTIC NARRATIVES, Second Series - - _in preparation_ - -Similar to Atlantic Narratives First Series, but intended for the use of -younger students, this collection of Atlantic short stories is selected -and edited for secondary schools. - - - - - THE ATLANTIC CLASSICS SERIES - - -Although both series of ATLANTIC CLASSICS are intended primarily for the -general reader, both are being used with success in classes in American -literature. These collections of _Atlantic Monthly_ essays present the -work of some of our best contemporary authors. The fact that these -distinguished men and women are still writing, cannot fail to quicken -the student’s interest both in them and in the essays as subjects of -study. - - - ATLANTIC CLASSICS, First Series - -The sixteen essays in this volume include among others: ‘Turtle Eggs for -Agassiz’ by Dallas Lore Sharp; ‘A Father to his Freshman Son’ by Edward -Sanford Martin, ‘Reminiscence with Postscript’ by Owen Wister, ‘The -Provincial American’ by Meredith Nicholson, ‘The Street’ by Simson -Strunsky, ‘A Confession in Prose’ by Walter Prichard Eaton, and ‘Our -Lady Poverty’ by Agnes Repplier. - - - ATLANTIC CLASSICS, Second Series - -Among the essays contained in this collection are ‘Every Man’s Natural -Desire to be Somebody Else’ by Samuel McChord Crothers, ‘The Devil Baby -at Hull House’ by Jane Addams, ‘The Greek Genius’ by John Jay Chapman, -‘Haunted Lives’ by Laura Spencer Portor, ‘Jungle Night’ by William -Beebe, and others of equal interest to the general reader and to the -young student. - - Suitable for College and advanced High School classes. - - _Examination copies of either book sent to teachers on request._ - - Each $1.25, postpaid; school rate, 83 cents, carriage additional. - - - THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY PRESS, INC. - - 41 MOUNT VERNON STREET, BOSTON - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES - - - 1. 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margin: 0em auto; - max-width: 50%; } - </style> - </head> - <body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Profession of Journalism, by Various - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll -have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using -this ebook. - - - -Title: The Profession of Journalism - A Collection of Articles on Newspaper Editing and - Publishing, taken from the Atlantic Monthly - -Author: Various - -Editor: Willard Grosvenor Bleyer - -Release Date: April 30, 2020 [EBook #61982] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PROFESSION OF JOURNALISM *** - - - - -Produced by Richard Tonsing and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class='tnotes covernote'> - -<p class='c000'><b>Transcriber’s Note:</b></p> - -<p class='c000'>The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.</p> - -</div> - -<div class='section ph1'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c001'> - <div>THE PROFESSION OF JOURNALISM</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class='box'> - -<div class='section ph2'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c001'> - <div>OTHER COLLECTIONS</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<p class='c002'>drawn from <cite>The Atlantic Monthly</cite> are published under the following titles:—</p> - -<table class='table0' summary='OTHER COLLECTIONS'> - <tr> - <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Atlantic Classics</span>, <em>First Series</em></td> - <td class='c004'>$1.25</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c003'> </td> - <td class='c004'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Atlantic Classics</span>, <em>Second Series</em></td> - <td class='c004'>$1.25</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c003'> </td> - <td class='c004'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Headquarters Nights.</span> By <em>Vernon Kellogg</em></td> - <td class='c004'>$1.00</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c003'> </td> - <td class='c004'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>The War and the Spirit of Youth.</span> By <em>Maurice Barrès</em> and Others</td> - <td class='c004'>$1.00</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c003'> </td> - <td class='c004'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Pan-Germany: The Disease and Cure.</span> By <em>André Chéradame</em></td> - <td class='c004'>$ .35</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c003'> </td> - <td class='c004'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>The Assault on Humanism.</span> By <em>Paul Shorey</em></td> - <td class='c004'>$1.00</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c003'> </td> - <td class='c004'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Shock at the Front.</span> By <em>William T. Porter M.D.</em></td> - <td class='c004'>$1.25</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c003'> </td> - <td class='c004'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Atlantic Narratives.</span> Edited by <em>Charles Swain Thomas</em></td> - <td class='c004'>$1.00</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c003'> </td> - <td class='c004'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Essays and Essay Writing.</span> Edited by <em>W. M. Tanner</em></td> - <td class='c004'>$1.00</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c005'> - <div>THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY PRESS</div> - <div class='c006'>BOSTON</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c006' /> -</div> -<div class='titlepage'> - -<div> - <h1 class='c007'><span class='xlarge'>THE PROFESSION OF</span><br /> JOURNALISM<br /> <span class='large'>A Collection of Articles on Newspaper Editing and Publishing, Taken from the Atlantic Monthly</span></h1> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c005'> - <div>EDITED WITH AN INTRODUCTION AND NOTES BY</div> - <div><span class='large'>WILLARD GROSVENOR BLEYER, <span class='sc'>Ph.D.</span></span></div> - <div class='c006'><em>Author of “Newspaper Writing and Editing” and “Types of News Writing”; Professor of Journalism in the University of Wisconsin</em></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='figcenter id001'> -<img src='images/title.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><span class='large'>The Atlantic Monthly Press</span></div> - <div>BOSTON</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c001'> - <div><span class='small'><em>Copyright, 1918, by</em></span></div> - <div>THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY PRESS, INC.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c006' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c008'>PREFACE</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>The purpose of this book is to bring together in convenient -form a number of significant contributions to the -discussion of the newspaper and its problems which have -appeared in the <cite>Atlantic Monthly</cite> in recent years. Although -these articles were intended only for the readers of that -magazine at the time of their original publication, they -have permanent value for the general reader, for newspaper -workers, and for students of journalism.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Practically every phase of journalism is taken up in -these articles, including newspaper publishing, news and -editorial policies, the influence of the press, yellow and -sensational journalism, the problems of the newspaper in -small cities, country journalism, the Associated Press, the -law of libel, book-reviewing, dramatic criticism, “comics,” -free-lance writing, and the opportunities in the profession. -For readers who desire to make a further study of any of -the important aspects of the press, a bibliography of such -books and magazine articles as are generally available in -public libraries has been appended.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Most of the authors of the articles in this volume are -newspaper and magazine writers and editors whose long -experience in journalism gives particular value to their -analysis of conditions, past and present. Brief notes on -the journalistic work of the writers are given in the Appendix.</p> - -<p class='c010'>For permission to reprint the articles the editor is indebted -to the writers and to the editor of the <cite>Atlantic -Monthly</cite>.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-r'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>W. G. B.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-l'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>University of Wisconsin</span>,</div> - <div class='line in4'>January 12, 1918.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c008'>CONTENTS</h2> -</div> - -<table class='table1' summary='CONTENTS'> - <tr> - <th class='c003'></th> - <th class='c011'> </th> - <th class='c004'><span class='small'>PAGE</span></th> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Introduction.</span></td> - <td class='c011'><em>Willard Grosvenor Bleyer</em></td> - <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_ix'>ix</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Some Aspects of Journalism.</span></td> - <td class='c011'><em>Rollo Ogden</em></td> - <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_1'>1</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Press Tendencies and Dangers.</span></td> - <td class='c011'><em>Oswald Garrison Villard</em></td> - <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_20'>20</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>The Waning Power of the Press.</span></td> - <td class='c011'><em>Francis E. Leupp</em></td> - <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_30'>30</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Newspaper Morals.</span></td> - <td class='c011'><em>H. L. Mencken</em></td> - <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_52'>52</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Newspaper Morals: A Reply.</span></td> - <td class='c011'><em>Ralph Pulitzer</em></td> - <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_68'>68</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>The Suppression of Important News.</span></td> - <td class='c011'><em>Edward Alsworth Ross</em></td> - <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_79'>79</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>The Personal Equation in Journalism.</span></td> - <td class='c011'><em>Henry Watterson</em></td> - <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_97'>97</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>The Problem of the Associated Press.</span></td> - <td class='c011'>“<em>An Observer</em>”</td> - <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_112'>112</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>The Associated Press: A Reply.</span></td> - <td class='c011'><em>Melville E. Stone</em></td> - <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_124'>124</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Confessions of a Provincial Editor.</span></td> - <td class='c011'>“<em>Paracelsus</em>”</td> - <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_133'>133</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>The Country Editor of To-day.</span></td> - <td class='c011'><em>Charles Moreau Harger</em></td> - <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_151'>151</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Sensational Journalism and the Law.</span></td> - <td class='c011'><em>George W. Alger</em></td> - <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_167'>167</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>The Critic and the Law.</span></td> - <td class='c011'><em>Richard Washburn Child</em></td> - <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_181'>181</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Honest Literary Criticism.</span></td> - <td class='c011'><em>Charles Miner Thompson</em></td> - <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_200'>200</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Dramatic Criticism in the American Press.</span></td> - <td class='c011'><em>James S. Metcalfe</em></td> - <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_224'>224</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>The Humor of the Colored Supplement.</span></td> - <td class='c011'><em>Ralph Bergengren</em></td> - <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_233'>233</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>The American Grub Street.</span></td> - <td class='c011'><em>James H. Collins</em></td> - <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_243'>243</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Journalism as a Career.</span></td> - <td class='c011'><em>Charles Moreau Harger</em></td> - <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_264'>264</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Bibliography</span></td> - <td class='c011'> </td> - <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_279'>279</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Notes on the Writers</span></td> - <td class='c011'> </td> - <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_290'>290</a></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_ix'>ix</span> - <h2 class='c008'>INTRODUCTION</h2> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c005'> - <div>BY WILLARD GROSVENOR BLEYER</div> - </div> -</div> - -<h3 class='c012'>I</h3> - -<p class='c013'>“The food of opinion,” as President Wilson has well said, -“is the news of the day.” The daily newspaper, for the -majority of Americans, is the sole purveyor of this food -for thought. Citizens of a democracy must read and -assimilate the day’s news in order to form opinions on current -events and issues. Again, for the average citizen the -newspaper is almost the only medium for the interpretation -and discussion of questions of the day. The composite -of individual opinions, which we call public opinion, -must express itself in action to be effective. The newspaper, -with its daily reiteration, is the most powerful force -in urging citizens to act in accordance with their convictions. -By reflecting the best sentiment of the community -in which it is published, the newspaper makes articulate -intelligent public opinion that might otherwise remain -unexpressed. Since the success of democracy depends -not only upon intelligent public opinion but upon political -action in accordance with such opinion, it is not too much -to say that the future of democratic government in this -country depends upon the character of its newspapers.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Yet most newspaper readers not unnaturally regard the -daily paper as an ephemeral thing to be read hurriedly and -cast aside. Few appreciate the extent to which their opinions -are affected by the newspaper they read. Nevertheless, -to every newspaper reader—which means almost -every person in this country—the conditions under which -newspapers are produced and the influences that affect the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_x'>x</span>character of news and editorials, should be matters of vital -concern.</p> - -<p class='c010'>To newspaper workers and students of journalism the -analysis of the fundamental questions of their profession -is of especial importance. Discussion of current practices -must precede all effort to arrive at definite standards for -the profession of journalism. Only when the newspaper -man realizes the probable effect of his work on the ideas -and ideals of thousands of readers, and hence on the character -of our democracy, does he appreciate the full significance -of his news story, headline, or editorial.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The modern newspaper has developed so recently from -simple beginnings into a great, complex institution that -no systematic and extensive study has been made of its -problems. Journalism has won recognition as a profession -only within the last seventy-five years, and professional -schools for the training of newspaper writers and editors -have been in existence less than fifteen years. In view of -these conditions, it is not surprising that definite principles -and a generally accepted code of ethics for the practice of -the profession have not been formulated.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Ideal conditions of newspaper editing and publishing are -not likely to be brought about by legislation. So jealous -are the American people of the liberty of their press that -they hesitate, even when their very existence as a nation -is threatened, to impose legal restrictions on the printing of -news and opinion. If regulation does come, it should be -the result, as it has been in the professions of law and -medicine, of the creation of an enlightened public opinion -in support of professional standards adopted by journalists -themselves.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The present is an auspicious time to discuss such standards. -The world war has put to the test, not only men and -machinery, but every institution of society. Of each organized -<span class='pageno' id='Page_xi'>xi</span>activity we ask, Is it serving most effectively the -common good? Not simply service to the state, but service -to society, is being demanded more and more of every -individual and every institution. “These are the times -which try men’s souls,” and that try no less the mediums -through which men’s souls find expression. The newspaper, -as the purveyor of “food of opinion” and as the -medium for expressing opinion, must measure up to the -test of the times.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>II</h3> - -<p class='c013'>The first step in a systematic analysis of the principles -of journalism must be a consideration of the function of -the newspaper in a democracy. In the varied and voluminous -contents of a typical newspaper are to be found news -of all kinds, editorial comment, illustrations of current -events, recipes, comic strips, fashions, cartoons, advice on -affairs of the heart, short stories, answers to questions on -etiquette, dramatic criticism, chapters of a serial, book -reviews, verse, a “colyum,” and advertisements. What in -this mélange is the one element which distinguishes the -newspaper from all other publications? It is the daily -news. Weekly and monthly periodicals do everything -that the newspaper does, except print the news from day -to day.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Whatever other aims a newspaper may have, its primary -purpose must be to give adequate reports of the day’s -news. Although various inducements other than news -may be employed to attract some persons to newspapers -who would not otherwise read them regularly, nevertheless -these features must not be so prominent or attractive -that readers with limited time at their disposal will neglect -the day’s news for entertainment.</p> - -<p class='c010'>To assist the public to grasp the significance of the news -<span class='pageno' id='Page_xii'>xii</span>by means of editorial interpretation and discussion, to -render articulate the best public sentiment, and to persuade -citizens to act in accordance with their opinions, -constitute an important secondary function of the newspaper. -Even though the editorial may seem to exert a -less direct influence upon the opinions and political action -of the average citizen than it did in the period of great -editorial leadership, nevertheless the interpretation and -discussion of timely topics in the editorial columns of -the daily press are a force in democratic government that -cannot be disregarded.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Newspapers by their editorials can perform two peculiarly -important services to the public. First, they can -show the relation of state, national, and international questions -to the home and business interests of their readers. -Only as the great issues of the day are brought home to -the average reader is he likely to become keenly interested -in their solution. Second, newspapers in their editorials -can point out the connection between local questions and -state-wide, nation-wide, or world-wide movements. Only -as questions at issue in a community are shown in their -relation to larger tendencies will the average reader see -them in a perspective that will enable him to think and -act most intelligently.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In addition to fulfilling these two functions, the newspaper -may supply its readers with practical advice and -useful information, as well as with entertaining reading -matter and illustrations. There is more justification for -wholesome advice and entertainment in newspapers that -circulate largely among classes whose only reading matter -is the daily paper than there is in papers whose readers -obtain these features from other periodicals. In view of -the numberless cheap, popular magazines in this country, -the extent to which daily newspapers should devote space -<span class='pageno' id='Page_xiii'>xiii</span>and money to advice and entertainment deserves careful -consideration. That without such consideration these -features may encroach unjustifiably on news and editorials -seems evident.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>III</h3> - -<p class='c013'>Since the primary function of the newspaper is to give -the day’s news, the question arises, What is news? If from -the point of view of successful democracy the value of -news is determined by the extent to which it furnishes -food for thought on current topics, we are at once given -an important criterion for defining news and measuring -news-values. Thus, news is anything timely which is significant -to newspaper readers in their relation to the community, -the state, and the nation.</p> - -<p class='c010'>This conception of news is not essentially at variance -with the commonly accepted definition of it as anything -timely that interests a number of readers, the best news -being that which has greatest interest for the greatest -number. The most vital matters for both men and women -are their home and their business interests, their success -and their happiness. Anything in the day’s news that -touches directly or indirectly these things that are nearest -and dearest to them, they will read with eagerness. As -they may not always be able to see at once the relation of -current events and issues to their home, business, and -community interests, it is the duty of the newspaper to -present news in such a way that its significance to the -average reader will be clear. Every newspaper man knows -the value of “playing up” the “local ends” of events that -take place outside of the community in which his paper is -published, but this method of bringing home to readers -the significance to them of important news has not been -as fully worked out as it will be. On this basis the best -<span class='pageno' id='Page_xiv'>xiv</span>news is that which can be shown to be most closely related -to the interests of the largest number of readers.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But newspapers must publish entertaining news stories -as well as significant ones,” insists the advocate of things -as they are. This may be conceded, but only with three -important limitations. First, stories for mere entertainment -that deal with events of little or no news-value must -not be allowed to crowd out significant news. Second, such -entertaining news-matter must not be given so much space -and prominence, or be made so attractive, that the average -reader with but limited time in which to read his paper -will neglect news of value. Third, events of importance -must not be so treated as to furnish entertainment primarily, -to the subordination of their true significance. To -substitute the <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">hors d’œuvres</span></i>, relishes, and dessert of the day’s -happenings for nourishing “food of opinion” is to serve an -unbalanced, unwholesome mental diet. The relish should -heighten, not destroy, a taste for good food.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>IV</h3> - -<p class='c013'>In order to furnish the average citizen with material from -which to form opinions on all current issues, so that he -may vote intelligently on men and measures, newspapers -must supply significant news in as complete and as accurate -a form as possible. The only important limitations -to completeness are those imposed by the commonly -accepted ideas of decency embodied in the phrase, “All the -news that’s fit to print,” and by the rights of privacy. -Carefully edited newspapers discriminate between what -the public is entitled to know and what an individual has -a right to keep private.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Inaccuracy, due to the necessity for speed in getting -news into print, most newspapers agree must be reduced -<span class='pageno' id='Page_xv'>xv</span>to a minimum. The establishment of bureaus of accuracy, -and constant emphasis on such mottoes as “Accuracy -First,” “Accuracy Always,” and “If you see it in the <cite>Sun</cite>, -it’s so,” are steps in that direction.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Deliberate falsification of news for any purpose, good or -bad, must be regarded as an indefensible violation of the -fundamental purpose of the press. Any cause, no matter -how worthy it may be, which cannot depend on facts and -truth for its support does not deserve to have facts and -truth distorted in its behalf.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The “faking” of news can never be harmless. Even -though the fictitious touches in an apparently innocent -“human-interest” or “feature” story may be recognized by -most readers, yet the effect is harmful. “It’s only a newspaper -story,” expresses the all-too-common attitude of a -public whose confidence in the reliability of newspapers -has been undermined by news stories wholly or partially -“faked.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The “coloring,” adulteration, and suppression of news as -“food of opinion” is as dangerous to the body politic as -similar manipulation of food-stuffs was to the physical -bodies of our people before such practices were forbidden -by law. How completely the opinions and moral judgments -of a whole nation may be perverted by deliberate -“coloring” and suppression of news, in this case by its own -government, was demonstrated in Germany immediately -before and during the world war.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The jury of newspaper readers must have “the truth, -the whole truth, and nothing but the truth,” if it is to give -an intelligent verdict.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>V</h3> - -<p class='c013'>The so-called “yellow journals” are glaring examples of -newspapers built up on news and editorial policies shaped -<span class='pageno' id='Page_xvi'>xvi</span>to attract undiscriminating readers by sensational methods. -By constantly emphasizing sensational news and by “sensationalizing” -and “melodramatizing” news that is not -sufficiently startling, as well as by editorials stirring up -class feeling among the masses against the monied and -ruling classes, “yellow journals” have been able to outstrip -all other papers in circulation.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Unquestionably the most serious aspect of the influence -of sensational and yellow journalism is the distorted view -of life thus given. Because these papers are widely read -by the partially assimilated groups of foreign immigrants -in large centres of population, like New York and Chicago, -they exert a particularly dangerous influence by giving -these future citizens a wrong conception of American -society and government. That the false ideas of our life -and institutions given to foreign elements of our population -while they are in the process of becoming Americanized -are a serious menace to this country, requires no proof. -No matter who the readers may be, however, news that -is “colored” to appear “yellow,” and misleading editorials, -will always be dangerous to the public welfare.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>VI</h3> - -<p class='c013'>The treatment of sensational events, particularly those -involving crime and scandal, undoubtedly constitutes one -of the difficult problems of all newspapers. The demoralizing -effect of accounts of criminal and vicious acts, when -read by immature and morally unstable individuals, is -generally admitted. On the other hand, fear of publicity -and consequent disgrace to the wrong-doer and his family, -is a powerful deterrent. Moreover, if newspapers suppressed -news of crime and vice, citizens might remain -ignorant of the extent to which they existed in the community, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_xvii'>xvii</span>and consequently, with the aid of a corrupt local -government, wrong-doing might flourish until it was a -menace to every member of the community.</p> - -<p class='c010'>To give sufficient publicity to news of crime and scandal -in order to provide the necessary deterrent effect, to furnish -readers with the information to which they are entitled, -and at the same time to present such news so that -it will not give offense or encourage morally weak readers -to emulate the criminal and the vicious, define the middle -course which exponents of constructive journalism must -steer.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>VII</h3> - -<p class='c013'>Criticisms of the newspaper of the present day should -not leave us with the impression that the American press -is deteriorating. No one who compares the newspaper of -to-day with its predecessors of fifty, seventy-five, or a -hundred years ago, can fail to appreciate how immeasurably -superior in every respect is the press of the present -day. In our newspapers now there is much less of narrow -political partisanship, much less of editorial vituperation -and personal abuse, much less of objectionable advertising, -and relatively less news of crime and scandal. Viewed -from a distance of more than half a century, great American -editors loom large, but a critical study of the papers they -edited shows their limitations. They were pioneers in a -new land,—for modern journalism began but eighty-five -years ago,—and as such, they deserve all honor for blazing -the trail; but we must not be blind to the defects of -the papers that they produced, any more than we may -overlook the faults of the press of our own day.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The period of the struggle against slavery culminating -in the Civil War was one of great editorial leadership. To -say that it was the era of great “views-papers” and that -<span class='pageno' id='Page_xviii'>xviii</span>the present is the day of great “news-papers” is to sum up -the essential difference between the two periods. In terms -of democratic government, this means that citizens of the -older day were accustomed to accept as their own, political -opinions furnished them ready-made by their favorite -editor, whereas voters to-day want to form their own opinions -on the basis of the news and editorials furnished them -by their favorite paper. This greater independence of judgment, -with its corollary, greater independence in voting, -is a long step forward toward a more complete democracy.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>VIII</h3> - -<p class='c013'>The recent development of community spirit as a means -of realizing more fully the ideals of democracy by fostering -greater solidarity among the diverse elements of our population, -has been reflected in the news policies of many -papers. By “playing up” news that tends to the upbuilding -of the community, and by “playing down,” and even -eliminating entirely, news that tends to exert an unwholesome -influence, newspapers in various parts of the country -have developed a type of constructive journalism. Such -consideration for the effect of news on readers as members -of the community, and hence on community life, is one -of the most important forward steps taken by the modern -newspaper.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Although occasion may arise from time to time for newspapers -to turn the searchlight of publicity on social and -political corruption, the feeling is gaining strength that -newspaper crusades in the interests of institutions and -movements making for community uplift are even more -important than the continued exposure of evils. Many -aggressive, crusading papers, accordingly, have turned -from a policy of exposing such conditions to the constructive -<span class='pageno' id='Page_xix'>xix</span>purpose of showing how various agencies may be -used for community development. “Searchlight” journalism -is thus giving way to “sunlight” journalism. A constructive -policy that aims to handle local news and “local -ends” of all news in such a manner that they will exert a -wholesome, upbuilding influence on the community, is one -of the most potent forces making for a better democracy.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>IX</h3> - -<p class='c013'>With the entry of the United States into world-affairs in -coöperation with other nations, a new duty was placed -upon the American press. For a number of years before -the world war the amount of foreign news in the average -American newspaper was very limited. With the decline -of weekly letters from foreign countries written by well-known -correspondents, and the reliance by newspapers on -the great press associations for foreign news, readers had -had relatively less news of importance from abroad than -formerly. The world war naturally changed this condition -completely.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Unless the United States decides finally to return to its -former policy of isolation, American citizens must be kept -in touch with important movements in other nations, so -that they can form intelligent opinions in regard to the -relation of this country to these nations. Since the daily -newspaper is the principal medium for presenting such -news, it is clear that newspapers must be prepared to -present significant foreign news in such a manner that it -will attract readers, by connecting it with their interests -as American citizens.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>X</h3> - -<p class='c013'>How the future will solve the problems of journalism -must be largely a matter of conjecture. Temporarily the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_xx'>xx</span>world war has given rise to peculiar problems, none of -which, however, seems likely to have permanent effects on -our newspapers. Censorship of news and of editorial discussion -has precipitated anew the ever-perplexing question -of the exact limits of the liberty of the press in war times. -War, too, has made clearer the pernicious influence resulting -from the dissemination throughout the world of “colored” -news by means of semi-official news agencies subsidized -and controlled by some of the European nations. -The extent to which a whole nation may be kept in the -dark by government control of news and discussion, as -well as the impossibility of other nations getting important -information to the people of such a country, has been -strikingly exemplified by Germany and Austro-Hungary. -The need of definite provision for international freedom of -the press has been pointed out as an essential factor in any -programme for permanent peace.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The rise in the price of print paper and increased cost -of production, largely the result of war conditions, have -led so generally to the raising of the price of papers from -one to two cents that the penny paper bids fair to disappear -entirely. This increase in price has not appreciably -reduced circulation. To economize in the use of -paper during the war, many papers have reduced the -number of pages by cutting down the amount of reading -matter. Whether or not these changes will continue -when normal conditions of business are restored cannot -be predicted.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Endowed newspapers, municipal newspapers, and even -university newspapers, have been proposed as possible -solutions of the problems of the press. Of these proposals -only one, the municipal newspaper, has had a trial, and -even that has not been tried under conditions that permit -any conclusions as to its feasibility. Although there has -<span class='pageno' id='Page_xxi'>xxi</span>been a marked tendency, hastened by the war, toward -government ownership or control of railroad, telegraph, -and telephone lines, which, like newspapers, are private -enterprises that perform a public function, there has been -no corresponding movement looking toward ownership or -control of newspapers by the federal, state, or local government.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Effective organization of newspaper writers and editors -has been urged as a means of establishing definite standards -for the profession. It seems remarkable that in this -age of organization newspaper workers are the only members -of a great profession who have no national association. -Newspaper publishers, circulation managers, advertising -men, and the editor-publishers of weekly and small -daily newspapers have such organizations. For free-lance -writers there is the Authors’ League of America. In several -Middle Western states organizations of city editors have -been effected; but a movement to unite them into a national -association has not as yet made much progress.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Two national newspaper conferences have been held -under academic auspices to discuss the problems of journalism, -the first at the University of Wisconsin in 1912, -and the second at the University of Kansas, two years -later. Although a number of leaders in the profession took -part in the programmes and interesting discussion resulted, -the attendance of newspaper workers was not sufficiently -large to be representative of the country as a whole, and -no permanent organization was effected.</p> - -<p class='c010'>That a national organization of newspaper men and -women is neither impossible nor ineffectual has been demonstrated -in Great Britain, where three of such associations -have been active for a number of years. The Institute of -Journalists of Great Britain, an association of newspaper -editors and proprietors, holds an annual conference for the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_xxii'>xxii</span>discussion of current questions in journalism and has had -as its head such distinguished journalists as Robert Donald -of the London <cite>Daily Chronicle</cite>, A. G. Gardiner of the -London <cite>Daily News</cite>, and J. L. Garvin, formerly editor of -the <cite>Pall Mall Gazette</cite> and now editor of the <cite>Observer</cite>. The -other associations are the National Union of Journalists, -composed exclusively of newspaper workers, which maintains -“branches” and “district councils” in addition to the -national association; and the Society of Women Journalists.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>XI</h3> - -<p class='c013'>There is no one simple solution for the complex problems -of journalism. In so far as the newspaper is a private -business enterprise, it will continue to adjust itself to the -steadily advancing standards of the business world. “Service,” -the new watchword in business, is already being taken -up by the business departments of newspapers in relation -to both advertisers and readers. The rejection of objectionable -advertising and the guaranteeing of all advertising -published have been among the first steps taken toward -serving both readers and honest business men by protecting -them against unscrupulous advertisers. When it is -generally accepted in the business world that service, as -well as honesty, is the best policy, no newspaper can long -afford to pursue any other.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Nor need private ownership be a menace to the completeness -and accuracy with which newspapers present -news and opinion. Just as business men are coming to -realize that truthful advertising is most effective and that -a satisfied customer is the best advertiser, so newspapers -are coming more and more to appreciate the fact that -accuracy and fair play in news and editorials are also “good -business.” Neither the public nor a majority of editors -<span class='pageno' id='Page_xxiii'>xxiii</span>and publishers can afford to permit unscrupulous private -ownership to impair seriously the usefulness and integrity -of any newspaper.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In so far as the newspaper performs a public function, -its usefulness will be measured by the character of the -service that it renders. Its standing will be determined by -the extent to which it serves faithfully the community, -the state, and the nation. Whatever principles are formulated -and whatever code is adopted for the profession of -journalism will be based on the fundamental idea of service -to the people—to the masses as well as to the classes.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Newspaper workers, from the “cub” reporter to the editor-in-chief, -will be recognized as public servants, not as -mere employees of a private business. The high standards -maintained by them in newspaper offices will reinforce the -ideal of public service held up before college men and -women preparing themselves for journalism. The public -will understand more fully than it ever has done the necessity -of supporting heartily the standards established by -newspapers themselves. Requests to “keep it out of the -paper” and threats of “stop my paper” will be less frequent -when advertisers, business men, and readers see that such -attempts at coercion are an indefensible interference with -an institution whose first duty is to the public.</p> - -<p class='c010'>With an ever-increasing appreciation of the value of its -service in business relations and with an ever-broadening -conception of its duties and responsibilities, the newspaper -of to-morrow may be depended on to do its part in the -greatest of all national and international tasks, that of -“making the world safe for democracy.”</p> - -<div class='section ph1'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c001'> - <div>THE PROFESSION OF JOURNALISM</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_1'>1</span> - <h2 class='c008'>SOME ASPECTS OF JOURNALISM</h2> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c005'> - <div>BY ROLLO OGDEN</div> - </div> -</div> - -<h3 class='c012'>I</h3> - -<p class='c013'>It is, in a way, a form of flattery, in the eyes of modern -journalism, that it should be put on its defense—added -to the fascinating list of “problems.” This is a tribute to -its importance. The compliment may often seem oblique. -An editor will, at times, feel himself placed in much the -same category as a famous criminal—a warning, a horrible -example, a target for reproof, but still an interesting -object. That last is the redeeming feature. If the newspaper -of to-day can only be sure that it excites interest in -the multitude, it is content. For to force itself upon the -general notice is the main purpose of its spirit of shrill -insistence, which so many have noted and so many have -disliked.</p> - -<p class='c010'>But the clamorous and assertive tone of the daily press -may charitably be thought of as a natural reaction from -its low estate of a few generations back. Upstart families -or races usually have bad manners, and the newspaper, as -we know it, is very much of an upstart. For long, its lot -was contempt and contumely. In the first half of the -eighteenth century, writing in general was reduced to -extremities. Dr. Johnson says of Richard Savage that, -“having no profession, he became by necessity an author.” -But there was a lower deep, and that was journalism. -Warburton wrote of one who is chiefly known by being -pilloried in the <cite>Dunciad</cite> that he “ended in the common -<span class='pageno' id='Page_2'>2</span>sink of all such writers, a political newspaper.” Even -later it was recorded of the Rev. Dr. Dodd, author of the -<cite>Beauties of Shakespeare</cite>, that he “descended so low as to -become editor of a newspaper.” After that, but one step -remained—to the gallows; and this was duly taken by -Dr. Dodd in 1777, when he was hanged for forgery. A -calling digged from such a pit may, without our special -wonder, display something of the push and insolence natural -in a class whose privileges were long so slender or so -questioned that they must be loudly proclaimed for fear -that they may be forgotten.</p> - -<p class='c010'>This flaunting and over-emphasis also go well with the -charge that the press of to-day is commercialized. That -accusation no one undertaking to comment on newspapers -can pass unnoticed. Yet why should journalism be exempt? -It is as freely asserted that colleges are commercialized; -the theatre is accused of knowing no standard but -that of the box-office; politics has the money-taint upon it; -and even the church is arraigned for ignoring the teachings -of St. James, and being too much a respecter of the persons -of the rich. If it is true that the commercial spirit rules -the press, it is at least in good company. In actual fact, -occasional instances of gross and unscrupulous financial -control of newspapers for selfish or base ends must be admitted -to exist. There are undoubtedly some editors who -bend their conscience to their dealing. Newspaper proprietors -exist who sell themselves for gain. But this is not -what is ordinarily meant by the charge of commercialization. -Reference is, rather, to the newspaper as a money-making -institution. “When shall we have a journal,” -asked a clergyman not long ago, “that will be published -without advertisements?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The answer is, never—at least, I hope so, for the good -of American journalism. We have no official press. We -<span class='pageno' id='Page_3'>3</span>have no subsidized press. We have not even an endowed -press. What that would be in this country I can scarcely -imagine, but I am sure it would have little or no influence. -A newspaper carries weight only as it can point to evidence -of public sympathy and support. But that means a business -side; it means patronage; it means an eye to money. -A newspaper, like an army, goes upon its belly—though -it does not follow that it must eat dirt. The dispute about -being commercialized is always a question of more or less. -When Horace Greeley founded the <cite>Tribune</cite> in 1841, he had -but a thousand dollars of his own in cash. Yet his struggle -to make the paper a going concern was just as intense as -if he were starting it to-day with a capital (and it would -be needed) of a million. Greeley, to his honor be it said, -refused from the beginning to take certain advertisements. -But so do newspaper proprietors to-day whose expenses -per week are more than Greeley’s were for the first year.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The immensely large capital now required for the conduct -of a daily newspaper in a great city has had important -consequences. It has made the newspaper more of an -institution, less of a personal organ. Men no longer designate -journals by the owner’s or editor’s name. It used to -be Bryant’s paper, or Greeley’s paper, or Raymond’s, or -Bennett’s. Now it is simply <cite>Times</cite>, <cite>Herald</cite>, <cite>Tribune</cite>, and -so on. No single personality can stamp itself upon the -whole organism. It is too vast. It is a great piece of property, -to be administered with skill; it is a carefully planned -organization which best produces the effect when the personalities -of those who work for it are swallowed up. The -individual withers, but the newspaper is more and more. -Journalism becomes impersonal. There are no more “great -editors,” but there is a finer <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">esprit de corps</span></i>, better “team -play,” an institution more and more firmly established and -able to justify itself.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_4'>4</span>Large capital in newspapers, and their heightened earning -power, tend to steady them. Freaks and rash experiments -are also shut out by lack of means. Greeley reckoned -up a hundred or more newspapers that had died in -New York before 1850. Since that time it would be hard -to name ten. I can remember but two metropolitan dailies -within twenty-five years that have absolutely suspended -publication. Only contrast the state of things in Parisian -journalism. There must be at least thirty daily newspapers -in the French capital. Few of them have the air of living -off their own business. Yet the necessary capital and the -cost of production are so much smaller than ours that -their various backers can afford to keep them afloat. But -this fact does not make their sincerity or purity the more -evident. On the contrary, the rumor of sinister control is -more frequently circulated in connection with the French -press than with our own. Our higher capitalization helps -us. Just because a great sum is invested, it cannot be -imperiled by allowing unscrupulous men to make use of -the newspaper property; for that way ruin lies, in the end. -The corrupt employment has to be concealed. If it had -been known surely, for example, that Mr. Morgan, or Mr. -Ryan, or Mr. Harriman owned a New York newspaper, -and was utilizing it as a means of furthering his schemes, -support would speedily have failed it, and it would soon -have dried up from the roots.</p> - -<p class='c010'>This give and take between the press and the public is -vital to a just conception of American journalism. The -editor does not nonchalantly project his thoughts into the -void. He listens for the echo of his words. His relation -to his supporters is not unlike Gladstone’s definition of the -intimate connection between the orator and his audience. -As the speaker gets from his hearers in mist what he gives -back in shower, so the newspaper receives from the public -<span class='pageno' id='Page_5'>5</span>as well as gives to it. Too often it gets as dust what it -gives back as mud; but that does not alter the relation. -Action and reaction are all the while going on between the -press and its patrons. Hence it follows that the responsibility -for the more crying evils of journalism must be -divided.</p> - -<p class='c010'>I would urge no exculpation for the editor who exploits -crime, scatters filth, and infects the community with moral -poison. The original responsibility is his, and it is a fearful -one. But it is not solely his. The basest and most demoralizing -journal that lives, lives by public approval -or tolerance. Its readers and advertisers have its life in -their hands. At a word from them, it would either reform -or die. They have the power of “recall” over it, as it -is by some proposed to grant the people a power of recall -over bad representatives in legislature or Congress. The -very dependence of the press upon support gives its patrons -the power of life and death over it.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Advertisers are known to go to a newspaper office to seek -favors, sometimes improper, often innocent. Why should -they, and mere readers, too, not exercise their implied right -to protest against vulgarity, the exaggeration of the trivial, -hysteria, indecency, immorality, in the newspaper which -they are asked to buy or to patronize? To a journalist of -the offensive class they could say: “You excuse yourself -by alleging that you simply give what the public demands; -but we say that your very assertion is an insult to us and -an outrage upon the public. You say that nobody protests -against your course; well, we are here to protest. You -point to your sales; we tell you that, unless you mend your -columns, we will buy no more.” There lies here, I am persuaded, -a vast unused power for the toning up of our -journalism. At any rate, the reform of a free press in a -free people can be brought about only by some such reaction -<span class='pageno' id='Page_6'>6</span>of the medium upon the instrument. Legislation direct -would be powerless. Sir Samuel Romilly perceived -this when he argued in Parliament against proposals to -restrict by law the “licentious press.” He said that, if the -press were more licentious than formerly, it was because it -had not yet got over the evils of earlier arbitrary control; -and the only sure way to reform it was to make it still more -free. Romilly would doubtless have agreed that a free -people will, in the long run, have as good newspapers as it -wants and deserves to have.</p> - -<p class='c010'>As it is, public sentiment has a way, on occasion, of -speaking through the press with astonishing directness and -power. All the noise and extravagance, the ignorance and -the distortion, cannot obscure this. There is a rough but -great value in the mere publicity which the newspaper -affords. The free handling of rulers has much for the -credit side. When Senior was talking with Thiers in 1856, -the conversation fell upon the severe press laws under -Napoleon III. The Englishman said that perhaps these -were due to the license of newspapers in the time of the -foregoing republic, when their attacks on public men were -often the extreme of scurrility. “C’était horrible,” said -Thiers; “mais, pour moi, j’aime mieux être gouverné par -des honnêtes gens qu’on traite comme des voleurs, que par -des voleurs qu’on traite en honnêtes gens.”<a id='r1' /><a href='#f1' class='c015'><sup>[1]</sup></a> And when -you have some powerful robbers to invoke the popular -verdict upon, there is nothing like modern journalism for -doing the job thoroughly. Those great names in our business -and political firmament which lately have fallen like -Lucifer, dreaded exposure in the press most of all. Courts -and juries they could have faced with equanimity; or, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_7'>7</span>rather, their lawyers would have done it for them in the -most beautiful illustration of the law’s delay. But the -very clamor of newspaper publicity was like an embodied -public conscience pronouncing condemnation—every -headline an officer. I know of no other power on earth that -could have stripped away from these rogues every shelter -which their money could buy, and have been to them -such an advance section of the Day of Judgment. In the -immense publicity that dogged them they saw that worst -of all punishments described by Shelley:—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c016'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>—when thou must <em>appear</em> to be</div> - <div class='line'>That which thou art internally;</div> - <div class='line'>And after many a false and fruitless crime,</div> - <div class='line'>Scorn track thy lagging fall.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='footnote' id='f1'> -<p class='c010'><a href='#r1'>1</a>. “It is terrible, but for my part, I would rather be governed by honest -men who are treated as though they were thieves, than by thieves who -are treated as though they were honest men.”—<span class='sc'>Ed.</span></p> -</div> - -<h3 class='c014'>II</h3> - -<p class='c013'>It is, no doubt, a belief in this honestly and wholesomely -scourging power of newspapers which has made the -champions of modern democracy champions also of the -freedom of the press. It has not been seriously hampered -or shackled in this country; but the history of its emancipation -from burdensome taxation in England shows how -the progressive and reactionary motives or temperaments -come to view. When Gladstone was laboring, fifty years -ago, to remove the last special tax upon newspapers, Lord -Salisbury—he was then Lord Robert Cecil—opposed -him with some of his finest sneers. Could it be maintained -that a person of any education could learn anything from -a penny paper? It might be said that the people would -learn from the press what had been uttered by their representatives -in Parliament, but how much would that add -to their education? They might even discover the opinions -of the editor. All this was very interesting, but it did -<span class='pageno' id='Page_8'>8</span>not carry real instruction to the mind. To talk about a -tax on newspapers being a tax on knowledge was a prostitution -of real education. And so on. But contrast this -with John Bright’s opinion. In a letter written in 1885, -but not published till this year, he said: “Few men in England -owe so much to the press as I do. Its progress has -been very great. I was one of those who worked earnestly -to overthrow the system of taxation which from the time -of Queen Anne had fettered, I might almost say, strangled -it out of existence.... I hope the editors and conductors -of our journals may regard themselves as under a great -responsibility, as men engaged in the great work of instructing -and guiding our people.... On the faithful -performance of their duties, on their truthfulness and their -adherence to the moral law, the future of our country -depends.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>To pass from these ideals to the tendencies and perplexities -of newspapers as they are is not possible without -the sensation of a jar. For specimens of the faults found -in even the reputable press by fair-minded men we may -turn to a recent address before a university audience by -Professor Butcher. Admitting that journalism had never -before been “so many-sided, so well informed, so intellectually -alert,” he yet noted several literary and moral defects. -Of these he dwelt first upon “hasty production.” “Formerly, -the question was, who is to have the last word; now -it is a wild race between journalists as to who will get the -<em>first</em> word.” The professor found the marks of hurry -written all over modern newspapers. Breathless haste -could not but affect the editorial style. “It is smartly -pictorial, restless, impatient, emphatic.” This charge no -editor of a daily paper can find it in his heart confidently -to attempt to repel. His work has to be done under narrow -and cramping conditions of time. The hour of going -<span class='pageno' id='Page_9'>9</span>to press is ever before him as an inexorable fate. And that -judgments formed and opinions expressed under such -stress are often of a sort that one would fain withdraw, no -sane writer for the press thinks of denying. This ancient -handicap of the pressman was described by Cowper in -1780. “I began to think better of his [Burke’s] cause,” -he wrote to the Rev. Mr. Unwin, “and burnt my verses. -Such is the lot of the man who writes upon the subject of -the day; the aspect of affairs changes in an hour or two, -and his opinion with it; what was just and well-deserved -satire in the morning, in the evening becomes a libel; the -author commences his own judge, and, while he condemns -with unrelenting severity what he so lately approved, is -sorry to find that he has laid his leaf gold upon touchwood, -which crumbled away under his finger.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>While all this is sorrowfully true,—to none so sorrowful -as those who have it frequently borne in upon them by -personal experience,—it is, after all, <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">du métier</span></i>. It is a -condition under which the work must be done, or not at all. -A public which occasionally disapproves of a newspaper too -quick on the trigger would not put up at all with one -which held its fire too long. And there is, when all is said, -a good deal of the philosophy of life in the compulsion to -“go to press.” Only in that spirit can the rough work of -the world get done. The artist may file and polish endlessly; -the genius may brood; but the newspaper man -must cut short his search for the full thought or the perfect -phrase, and get into type with the best at the moment -attainable. At any rate, this makes for energy decision, -and a ready practicality. Life is made up of such compromises, -such forced adjustments, such constant striving -for the ideal with the necessitated acceptance of the -closest approach to it possible, as are of the very atmosphere -in the office of a daily newspaper. But the result is -<span class='pageno' id='Page_10'>10</span>got. The pressure may be bad for literary technique but -at all events it forces out the work. If Lord Acton had -known something of the driving motives of a journalist, -he would not have spent fifty years collecting material for -a great history of liberty, and then died before being quite -persuaded in his own mind that he was ready to write it. -The counsel of wisdom which Mr. Brooke gives in <cite>Middlemarch</cite> -need never be addressed to a newspaper writer; that -he must “pull up” in time, every day teaches him.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Professor Butcher also drew an ingenious parallel between -the Sophists of ancient Greece and present-day -journalists. It was not very flattering to the latter. One -of the points of comparison was that “their pretensions -were high and their basis of knowledge generally slight.” -Now, “ignorance,” added the uncomplimentary professor, -“has its own appropriate manner, and most journalists, -being very clever fellows, are, when they are ignorant, -conscious of their ignorance. A fine, elusive manner is -therefore adopted; it is enveloped in a haze.” To this -charge, also, a bold and full plea of not guilty cannot be -entered by a newspaper man. If his own conscience would -allow it, he knows that too many of his own calling would -rise up to confute him. The jokes, flings, stories, confessions -are too numerous about the easy and empty assumptions -of omniscience by the press. Mr. Barrie has, in his -reminiscential <cite>When a Man’s Single</cite>, told too many tales -out of the sanctum. Some of them bear on the point in -hand. For example:—</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘I am not sure that I know what the journalistic instinct -precisely is,’ Rob said, ‘and still less whether I possess -it.’</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘Ah, just let me put you through your paces,’ replied -Simms. ‘Suppose yourself up for an exam. in journalism, -and that I am your examiner. Question One: The house -<span class='pageno' id='Page_11'>11</span>was soon on fire; much sympathy is expressed with the sufferers. -Can you translate that into newspaper English?’</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘Let me see,’ answered Rob, entering into the spirit -of the examination. ‘How would this do: In a moment -the edifice was enveloped in shooting tongues of flame; -the appalling catastrophe has plunged the whole street into -the gloom of night’?</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘Good. Question Two: A man hangs himself; what -is the technical heading for this?’</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘Either “Shocking Occurrence” or “Rash Act.’”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘Question Three: <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Pabulum, Cela va sans dire, Par excellence, -Ne plus ultra.</span></i> What are these? Are there any -more of them?’</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘They are scholarships,’ replied Rob; ‘and there are -two more, namely, <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Tour de force</span></i> and <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">Terra firma</span></i>.’</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘Question Four: A. (a soldier) dies at 6 <span class='fss'>P.M.</span> with his -back to the foe; B. (a philanthropist) dies at 1 <span class='fss'>A.M.</span>; which -of these, speaking technically, would you call a creditable -death?’</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘The soldier’s, because time was given to set it.’</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘Quite right. Question Five: Have you ever known -a newspaper which did not have the largest circulation and -was not the most influential advertising medium?’</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘Never.’</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘Well, Mr. Angus,’ said Simms, tiring of the examination, -‘you have passed with honors.’”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Many cynical admissions by the initiate could be quoted. -The question was recently put to a young man who had a -place on the staff of a morning newspaper: “Are you not -often brought to a standstill for lack of knowledge?” -“No,” he replied, “as a rule I go gayly ahead, and without -a pause. My only difficulty is when I happen to know -something of the subject.” But no one takes these sarcasms -too seriously. They are a part of the Bohemian -<span class='pageno' id='Page_12'>12</span>tradition of journalism. But Bohemianism has gone out -of the newspaper world, as the profession has become more -specialized, more of a serious business. Even in his time, -Jules Janin, writing to Madame de Girardin apropos of -her <cite><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">École des Journalistes</span></cite>, happily exposed the “assumption -that good leading articles ever were or ever could be -produced over punch and broiled bones, amidst intoxication -and revelry.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Editors may still be ignorant, but at any rate they are -not unblushingly devil-may-care about it. They do not -take their work as a pure lark. They try to get their -facts right. And the appreciation of accurate knowledge, -if not always the market for it, is certainly higher now -in newspaper offices than it used to be. The multiplied -apparatus of information has done at least that for the -profession. Much of its knowledge may be “index-learning,” -but at any rate it gets the eel by the tail. And the -editor has a fairish retort for the general writer in the -fact that the latter might more often be caught tripping if -he had to produce his wisdom on demand and get it irrevocably -down in black and white and in a thousand hands -without time for consideration or amendment. This truth -was frankly put by Motley in a letter to Holmes in 1862: -“I take great pleasure in reading your prophecies, and -intend to be just as free in hazarding my own.... If -you make mistakes, you shall never hear of them again, -and I promise to forget them. Let me ask the same indulgence -from you in return. This is what makes letter-writing -a comfort, and journalism dangerous.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>It is a distinction which an editor may well lay to his -soul when accused of being a mere Gigadibs—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c016'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>You, for example, clever to a fault,</div> - <div class='line'>The rough and ready man who write apace,</div> - <div class='line'>Read somewhat seldomer, think, perhaps, even less.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_13'>13</span>Even in journalism, the Spanish proverb holds that -knowing something does not take up any room—<i><span lang="es" xml:lang="es">el saber -no ocupa lugar</span></i>. Special information is, as I often have -occasion to say to applicants for work, the one thing that -gives a stranger a chance in a newspaper office. The most -out-of-the-way knowledge has a trick of falling pat to the -day’s need. A successful London journalist got his first -foothold by knowing all about Scottish Disruption, when -that struggle between the Established and Free churches -burst upon the horizon. The editor simply had to have -the services of a man who could tell an interested English -public all about the question which was setting the heather -afire. Similarly, not long since, a young American turned -up in New York with apparently the most hopeless outfit -for journalistic work. He had spent eight years in Italy -studying mediæval church history—and that was his -basis for thinking he could write for a daily paper of the -palpitating present! But it happened just then that the -aged Leo XIII drew to his end, and here was a man who -knew all the <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">Papabili</span></i>—cardinals and archbishops; who -understood thoroughly the ceremony and procedure of -electing a pope; who was drenched in all the actualities of -the situation, and who could, therefore, write about it -with an intelligence and sympathy which made his work -compel acceptance, and gave him entrance into journalism -by the unlikely Porta Romana. It is but an instance of -the way in which a profession growing more serious is -bound to take knowledge more seriously.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>III</h3> - -<p class='c013'>It is, however, what Sir Wemyss Reid called the “Wegotism” -of the press that some fastidious souls find more -offensive than its occasional betrayals of crass ignorance. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_14'>14</span>Lecky remarked upon it, in his chapters on the rise of newspapers -in England. “Few things to a reflecting mind are -more curious than the extraordinary weight which is attached -to the anonymous expression of political opinion. -Partly by the illusion of the imagination, partly by the -weight of emphatic assertion, a plural pronoun, conspicuous -type, and continual repetition, unknown men are able, -without exciting any surprise or sense of incongruity, to -assume the language of the accredited representatives of -the nation, and to rebuke, patronize, or insult its leading -men with a tone of authority which would not be tolerated -from the foremost statesmen of their time.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>A remedy frequently suggested is signed editorials. Let -the Great Unknown come out from behind his veil of -anonymity, and drop his “plural of majesty.” Then we -should know him for the insignificant and negligible individual -he is. It is true that some hesitating attempts of -that kind have been made in this country, mostly in the -baser journalism, but they have not succeeded. There is -no reason to think that this practice will ever take root -among us. It arose in France under conditions of rigorous -press censorship, and really goes in spirit with the wish of -government or society to limit that perfect freedom of discussion -which anonymous journalism alone can enjoy. -Legal responsibility is, of course, fixed in the editor and -proprietors. Nor is the literary disguise, as a rule, of such -great consequence, or so difficult to penetrate. Most editors -would feel like making the same answer to an aggrieved -person that Swift gave to one of his victims. In one of -his short poems he threw some of his choicest vitriol upon -one Bettesworth, a lawyer of considerable eminence, who -in a rage went to Swift and demanded whether he was the -author of that poem. The Dean’s reply was: “Mr. Bettesworth, -I was in my youth acquainted with great lawyers -<span class='pageno' id='Page_15'>15</span>who, knowing my disposition to satire, advised me that, -if any scoundrel or blockhead whom I had lampooned -should ask, ‘Are you the author of this paper?’ I should -tell him that I was not the author; and therefore I tell you, -Mr. Bettesworth, that I am not the author of these lines.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>But the real defense of impersonal journalism lies in the -conception of a newspaper, not as an individual organ, but -as a public institution. Walter Bagehot, in his <cite>Physics and -Politics</cite>, uses the newspaper as a good illustration of an -organism subduing everything to type. Individual style -becomes blended in the common style. The excellent work -of assistant editors is ascribed to their chief, just as his -blunders are shouldered off upon them. It becomes impossible -to dissect out the separate personalities which contribute -to the making up of the whole. The paper represents, -not one man’s thought, but a body of opinion. Behind -what is said each day stands a long tradition. Writers, -reviewers, correspondents, clientele, add their mite, but it -is little more than Burns’s snowflake falling into the river. -The great stream flows on. I would not minimize personality -in journalism. It has counted enormously; it still -counts. But the institutional, representative idea is now -most telling. The play of individuality is much restricted; -has to do more with minor things than great policies. John -Stuart Mill, in a letter of 1863 to Motley, very well hit off -what may be called the chance rôle of the individual in -modern journalism: “The line it [the London <cite>Times</cite>] takes -on any particular question is much more a matter of accident -than is supposed. It is sometimes better than the -public, and sometimes worse. It was better on the Competitive -Examinations and on the Revised Educational -Code, in each case owing to the accidental position of a -particular man who happened to write on it—both which -men I could name to you.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_16'>16</span>Wendell Phillips told of once taking a letter to the editor -of a Boston paper, whom he knew, with a request that it -be published. The editor read it over, and said, “Mr. -Phillips, that is a very good and interesting letter, and I -shall be glad to publish it; but I wish you would consent -to strike out the last paragraph.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Why,” said Phillips, “that paragraph is the precise -thing for which I wrote the whole letter. Without that it -would be pointless.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, I see that,” replied the editor; “and what you say -in it is perfectly true,—the very children in the streets -know that it is true. I fully agree with it all myself. Yet -it is one of those things which it will not do to say publicly. -However, if you insist upon it, I will publish the letter as -it stands.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>It was published the next morning, and along with it a -short editorial reference to it, saying that a letter from Mr. -Phillips would be found in another column, and that it -was extraordinary that so keen a mind as his should have -fallen into the palpable absurdity contained in the last -paragraph.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The story suggests the harmful side of the interaction -between press and public. It sometimes puts a great strain -upon the intellectual honesty of the editor. He is doubtful -how much truth his public will bear. His audience may -seem to him, on occasions, minatory, as well as, on others, -encouraging. So hard is it for the journalist to be sure, -with Dr. Arnold, that the times will always bear what an -honest man has to say. At this point, undoubtedly, we -come upon the moral perils of the newspaper man. And -when outsiders believe that he writes to order, or without -conviction, they naturally hold a low view of his occupation.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Journalism, wrote Mrs. Mark Pattison in 1879, “harms -<span class='pageno' id='Page_17'>17</span>those, even the most gifted, who continue in it after early -life. They cannot honestly write the kind of thing required -for their public if they are really striving to reach the highest -level of thought and work possible to themselves.” If -this were always and absolutely true, little could be said -for the Fourth Estate. We should all have to agree with -James Smith, of <cite>Rejected Addresses</cite> fame:—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c016'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Hard is his lot who edits, thankless job!</div> - <div class='line'>A Sunday journal for the factious mob.</div> - <div class='line'>With bitter paragraph and caustic jest,</div> - <div class='line'>He gives to turbulence the day of rest,</div> - <div class='line'>Condemn’d this week rash rancor to instil,</div> - <div class='line'>Or thrown aside, the next, for one who will.</div> - <div class='line'>Alike undone, or if he praise or rail</div> - <div class='line'>(For this affects his safety, that his sale),</div> - <div class='line'>He sinks, alas, in luckless limbo set—</div> - <div class='line'>If loud for libel, and if dumb for debt.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>The real libel, however, would be the assertion that the -work of American journalism is done to any large extent -in that spirit of the galley slave. With all its faults, it is -imbued with the desire of being of public service. That is -often overlaid by other motives—money-making, timeserving, -place-hunting. But at the high demand of a great -moral or political crisis, it will assert itself, and editors will -be found as ready as their fellows to hazard their all for -the common weal. To show what sort of fire may burn at -the heart of the true journalist, I append a letter never -before published:—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-r c017'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“<span class='sc'>New York</span>, <em>April 23, 1867</em>.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'>“There is a man here named Barnard, on the bench of -the Supreme Court. Some years ago he kept a gambling -saloon in San Francisco, and was a notorious blackleg and -<i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">vaurien</span></i>. He came then to New York, plunged into the -basest depths of city politics, and emerged Recorder. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_18'>18</span>After two or three years he got by the same means to be -a judge of the Supreme Court. His reputation is now of -the very worst. He is unscrupulous, audacious, barefaced, -and corrupt to the last degree. He not only takes bribes, -but he does not even wait for them to be offered him. He -sends for suitors, or rather for their counsel, and asks for -the money as the price of his judgments. A more unprincipled -scoundrel does not breathe. There is no way in -which he does not prostitute his office, and in saying this -I am giving you the unanimous opinion of the bar and the -public. His appearance on the bench I consider literally -an awful occurrence. Yet the press and bar are muzzled,—for -that is what it comes to,—and this injurious scoundrel -has actually got possession of the highest court in the -State, and dares the Christian public to expose his villainy.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“If I were satisfied that, if the public knew all this, it -would lie down under it, I would hand the <cite>Nation</cite> over to -its creditors and take myself and my children out of the -community. I will not believe that yet. I am about to -say all I dare say—as yet—in the <cite>Nation</cite> to-morrow. -Barnard is capable of ruining us, if he thought it worth -his while, and could of course imprison me for contempt, -if he took it into his head, and I should have no redress. -You have no idea what a labyrinth of wickedness and -chicane surrounds him. Moreover, I have no desire either -for notoriety or martyrdom, and am in various ways not -well fitted to take a stand against rascality on such a scale -as this. But this I do think, that it is the duty of every -honest man to do something. Barnard has now got possession -of the courts, and if he can silence the press also, -where is reform to come from?... I think some movement -ought to be set on foot having for its object the hunting -down of corrupt politicians, the exposure of jobs, the -sharpening of the public conscience on the whole subject -<span class='pageno' id='Page_19'>19</span>of political purity. If this cannot be done, the growing -wealth will kill—not the nation, but the form of government -without which, as you and I believe, the nation would -be of little value to humanity.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>This was written to Professor Charles Eliot Norton by -the late Edwin Lawrence Godkin. The Barnard referred -to was, of course, the infamous judge from whom, a few -years later, the judicial robes were stripped. Mr. Godkin’s -attack upon him was, so far as I know, the first that was -made in print. But the passion of indignation which -glowed in that great journalist, with his willingness to -hazard his own fortunes in the public behalf, only sets -forth conspicuously what humbler members of the press -feel as their truest motive and their noblest reward.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_20'>20</span> - <h2 class='c008'>PRESS TENDENCIES AND DANGERS</h2> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c005'> - <div>BY OSWALD GARRISON VILLARD</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>The passing of the <cite>Boston Journal</cite>, in the eighty-fourth -year of its age, by merger with the <cite>Boston Herald</cite> has -rightly been characterized as a tragedy of journalism. Yet -it is no more significant than the similar merger of the -<cite>Cleveland Plain Dealer</cite> and the <cite>Cleveland Leader</cite>, or the -<cite>New York Press</cite> and the <cite>New York Sun</cite>. All are in obedience -to the drift toward consolidation which has been as -marked in journalism as in other spheres of business activity—for -this is purely a business matter. True, in the -cases of the Sun and the <cite>Press</cite> Mr. Munsey’s controlling -motive was probably the desire to obtain the Associated -Press service for the <cite>Sun</cite>, which he could have secured in -no other way. But Mr. Munsey was not blind to the -advantages of combining the circulation of the <cite>Press</cite> and -the <cite>Sun</cite>, and has profited by it.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It is quite possible that there will be further consolidations -in New York and Boston before long; at least conditions -are ripe for them. Chicago has now only four morning -newspapers, including the <cite><span lang="de" xml:lang="de">Staats-Zeitung</span></cite>, but one of -these has an uncertain future before it. The <cite>Herald</cite> of that -city is the net result of amalgamations which successively -wiped out the <cite>Record</cite>, the <cite>Times</cite>, the <cite>Chronicle</cite>, and the -<cite>Inter-Ocean</cite>. It is only a few years ago that the <cite>Boston -Traveler</cite> and the <cite>Evening Herald</cite> were consolidated, and -Philadelphia, Baltimore, New Orleans, Portland (Oregon), -and Philadelphia are other cities in which there has been -a reduction in the number of dailies.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In the main it is correct to say that the decreasing -<span class='pageno' id='Page_21'>21</span>number of newspapers in our larger American cities is due -to the enormously increased costs of maintaining great -dailies. This has been found to limit the number which a -given advertising territory will support. It is a fact, too, -that there are few other fields of enterprise in which so -many unprofitable enterprises are maintained. There is -one penny daily in New York which has not paid a cent -to its owners in twenty years; during that time its income -has met its expenses only once. Another of our New York -dailies loses between $400,000 and $500,000 a year, if well-founded -report is correct, but the deficit is cheerfully met -each year. It may be safely stated that scarcely half of -our New York morning and evening newspapers return an -adequate profit.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The most striking fact about the recent consolidations is -that this leaves Cleveland with only one morning newspaper, -the <cite>Plain Dealer</cite>. It is the sixth city in size in the -United States, yet it has not appeared to be large enough -to support both the <cite>Plain Dealer</cite> and the <cite>Leader</cite>, not even -with the aid of what is called “foreign,” or national, advertising, -that is, advertising which originates outside of -Cleveland. There are now many other cities in which the -seeker after morning news is compelled to take it from one -source only, whatever his political affiliations may be: in -Indianapolis, from the <cite>Star</cite>; in Detroit, from the <cite>Free -Press</cite>; in Toledo, from the <cite>Times</cite>; in Columbus, from the -<cite>State Journal</cite>; in Scranton, from the <cite>Republican</cite>; in St. -Paul, from the <cite>Pioneer Press</cite>; and in New Orleans, from the -<cite>Times-Picayune</cite>. This circumstance comes as a good deal -of a shock to those who fancy that at least the chief political -parties should have their representative dailies in each -city—for that is the old American tradition.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Turning to the State of Michigan, we find that the development -has gone even further, for here are some sizable -<span class='pageno' id='Page_22'>22</span>cities with no morning newspaper and but one in the evening -field. In fourteen cities whose population has more -than doubled during the last twenty-five years the number -of daily newspapers printed in the English language has -shrunk from 42 to only 23. In nine of these fourteen cities -there is not a single morning newspaper; they have but -one evening newspaper each to give them the news of the -world, unless they are content to receive their news by -mail from distant cities. On Sunday they are better off, -for there are seven Sunday newspapers in these towns. In -the five cities having more than one newspaper, there are -six dailies that are thought to be unprofitable to their -owners, and it is believed that, within a short time, the -number of one-newspaper cities will grow to twelve, in -which case Detroit and Grand Rapids will be the only -cities with morning dailies. It is reported by competent -witnesses that the one-newspaper towns are not only well -content with this state of affairs, but that they actively -resist any attempt to change the situation, the merchants -in some cases banding together voluntarily to maintain -the monopoly by refusing advertising to those wishing to -start competition.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It is of course true that in the larger cities of the East -there are other causes than the lack of advertising to account -for the disappearance of certain newspapers. Many -of them have deserved to perish because they were inefficiently -managed or improperly edited. The <cite>Boston Transcript</cite> -declares that the reason for the <cite>Journal’s</cite> demise was -lack “of that singleness and clearness of direction and purpose -which alone establish confidence in and guarantee -abiding support of a newspaper.” If some of the Hearst -newspapers may be cited as examples of successful journals -that have neither clearness nor honesty of purpose, it is -not to be questioned that a newspaper with clear-cut, vigorous -<span class='pageno' id='Page_23'>23</span>personalities behind it is far more likely to survive -than one that does not have them. But it does not help -the situation to point out, as does the <cite>Columbia</cite> (S. C.) -<cite>State</cite>, that “sentiment and passion” have been responsible -for the launching of many of the newspaper wrecks; for -often sentiment and the righteous passion of indignation -have been responsible for the foundation of notable newspapers -such as the <cite>New York Tribune</cite>, whose financial -success was, for a time at least, quite notable. It is the -danger that newspaper conditions, because of the enormously -increased costs and this tendency to monopoly, -may prevent people who are actuated by passion and sentiment -from founding newspapers, which is causing many -students of the situation much concern. What is to be -the hope for the advocates of new-born and unpopular reforms -if they cannot have a press of their own, as the Abolitionists -and the founders of the Republican party set up -theirs in a remarkably short time, usually with poverty-stricken -bank accounts?</p> - -<p class='c010'>If no good American can read of cities having only one -newspaper without concern,—since democracy depends -largely upon the presenting of both sides of every issue,—it -does not add any comfort to know that it would take -millions to found a new paper, on a strictly business basis, -in our largest cities. Only extremely wealthy men could -undertake such a venture,—precisely as the rejuvenated -<cite>Chicago Herald</cite> has been financed by a group of the city’s -wealthiest magnates,—and even then the success of the -undertaking would be questionable if it were not possible -to secure the Associated Press service for the newcomer.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The “journal of protest,” it may be truthfully said, is -to-day being confined, outside of the Socialistic press, to -weeklies of varying types, of which the <cite>Survey</cite>, the <cite>Public</cite>, -and the <cite>St. Louis Mirror</cite>, are examples; and scores of them -<span class='pageno' id='Page_24'>24</span>fall by the wayside. The large sums necessary to establish -a journal of opinion are being demonstrated by the -<cite>New Republic</cite>. Gone is the day when a <cite>Liberator</cite> can be -founded with a couple of hundred dollars as capital. The -struggle of the <cite>New York Call</cite> to keep alive, and that of -some of our Jewish newspapers, are clear proof that conditions -to-day make strongly against those who are fired by -passion and sentiment to give a new and radical message -to the world.</p> - -<p class='c010'>True, there is still opportunity in small towns for editorial -courage and ability; William Allen White has demonstrated -that. But in the small towns the increased costs -due to the war are being felt as keenly as in the larger -cities. <cite>Ayer’s Newspaper Directory</cite> shows a steady shrinkage -during the last three years in the weeklies, semi-weeklies, -tri-weeklies, and semi-monthlies, there being 300 less -in 1916 than in 1914. There lies before me a list of 76 -dailies and weeklies over which the funeral rites have been -held since January 1, 1917; to some of them the government -has administered the <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">coup de grace</span></i>. There are three -Montreal journals among them, and a number of little -German publications, together with the notorious <cite>Appeal -to Reason</cite> and a couple of farm journals: 21 states are -represented in the list, which is surely not complete.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Many dailies have sought to save themselves by increasing -their price to two cents, as in Chicago, Pittsburg, -Buffalo, and Philadelphia; and everywhere there has been -a raising of mail-subscription and advertising rates, in an -effort to offset the enormous and persistent rise in the cost -of paper and labor. It is indisputable, however, that, if -we are in for a long war, many of the weaker city dailies -and the country dailies must go to the wall, just as there -have been similar failures in every one of the warring -nations of Europe.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_25'>25</span>Surveying the newspaper field as a whole, there has not -been of late years a marked development of the tendency -to group together a number of newspapers under one -ownership in the manner of Northcliffe. Mr. Hearst, -thanks be to fortune, has not added to his string lately; -his group of <cite>Examiners</cite>, <cite>Journals</cite>, and <cite>Americans</cite> is popularly -believed not to be making any large sums of money -for him, because the weaker members offset the earnings -of the prosperous ones, and there is reputed to be great -managerial waste.<a id='r2' /><a href='#f2' class='c015'><sup>[2]</sup></a> When Mr. Munsey buys another daily, -he usually sells an unprosperous one or adds another grave -to his private and sizable newspaper cemetery. The -Scripps-McRae Syndicate, comprising some 22 dailies, -has not added to its number since 1911.</p> - -<div class='footnote' id='f2'> -<p class='c010'><a href='#r2'>2</a>. Mr. Hearst acquired the <cite>Boston Advertiser</cite> in November 1917, -shortly after this article was written.-<span class='sc'>Ed.</span></p> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>In Michigan the Booth Brothers control six clean, independent -papers, which, for the local reasons given above, -exercise a remarkable influence. The situation in that -state shows clearly how comparatively easy it would be -for rich business men, with selfish or partisan purpose, to -dominate public opinion there and poison the public mind -against anything they disliked. It is a situation to cause -much uneasiness when one looks into the more distant -future and considers the distrust of the press because of a -far-reaching belief that the large city newspaper, being a -several-million-dollar affair, must necessarily have managers -in close alliance with other men in great business enterprises,—the -chamber of commerce, the merchants’ association -group,—and therefore wholly detached from the -aspirations of the plain people.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Those who feel thus will be disturbed by another remarkable -consolidation in the field of newspaper-making—the -recent absorption of a large portion of the business of the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_26'>26</span>American Press Association by the Western Newspaper -Union. The latter now has an almost absolute monopoly -in supplying “plate” and “ready to print” matter to the -small daily newspapers and the country weeklies—“patent -insides” is a more familiar term. The Western Newspaper -Union to-day furnishes plate matter to nearly fourteen -thousand newspapers—a stupendous number. In -1912 a United States court in Chicago forbade this very -consolidation as one in restraint of trade; to-day it permits -it because the great rise in the cost of plate matter, from -four to seventeen cents a pound, seems to necessitate the -extinction of the old competition and the establishment of -a monopoly. The court was convinced that this field of -newspaper enterprise will no longer support two rival concerns. -An immense power which could be used to influence -public opinion is thus placed in the hands of the officers of -a money-making concern, for news matter is furnished as -well as news photogravures.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Only the other day I heard of a boast that a laudatory -article praising a certain astute Democratic politician had -appeared in no less than 7,000 publications of the Union’s -clients. Who can estimate the value of such an advertisement? -Who can deny the power enormously to influence -rural public opinion for better or for worse? Who can -deny that the very innocent aspect of such a publication -makes it a particularly easy, as well as effective, way of -conducting propaganda for better or for worse? So far it -has been to the advantage of both the associations to carry -the propaganda matter of the great political parties,—they -deny any intentional propaganda of their own,—but -one cannot help wondering whether this will always be -the case, and whether there is not danger that some day -this tremendous power may be used in the interest of some -privileged undertaking or some self-seeking politicians. At -<span class='pageno' id='Page_27'>27</span>least, it would seem as if our law-makers, already so critical -of the press, might be tempted to declare the Union a public-service -corporation and, therefore, bound to transmit -all legitimate news offered to it.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In the strictly news-gathering field there is probably a -decrease of competition at hand. The Allied governments -abroad and our courts at home have struck a hard blow at -the Hearst news-gathering concern, the International News -Association, which has been excluded from England and -her colonies, Italy, and France, and has recently been -convicted of news-stealing and falsification on the complaint -of the Associated Press. The case is now pending -an appeal in the Supreme Court, when the decision of -the lower court may be reversed. If, as a result of these -proceedings, the association eventually goes out of business, -it will be to the public advantage, that is, if honest, -uncolored news is a desideratum. This will give to -the Associated Press—the only press association which is -altogether coöperative and makes no profit by the sale of -its news—a monopoly in the morning field. If this lack -of organized competition—it is daily competing with the -special correspondents of all the great newspapers—has -its drawbacks, it is certainly reassuring that throughout -this unprecedented war the Associated Press has brought -over an enormous volume of news with a minimum of -just complaints as to the fidelity of that news—save -that it is, of course, rigidly censored in every country, and -particularly in passing through England. It has met vast -problems with astounding success.</p> - -<p class='c010'>But it is in considerable degree dependent upon foreign -news agencies, like Reuter’s, the Havas Agency in France, -the Wolf Agency in Germany, and others, including the -official Russian agency. Where these are not frankly official -agencies, they are the creatures of their governments -<span class='pageno' id='Page_28'>28</span>and have been either deliberately used by them to mislead -others, and particularly foreign nations, or to conceal the -truth from their own subjects. As Dean Walter Williams, -of the University of Missouri School of Journalism, has -lately pointed out, if there is one thing needed after this -war, it is the abolition of these official and semi-official -agencies with their frequent stirring up of racial and international -hatreds. A free press after the war is as badly -needed as freedom of the seas and freedom from conscienceless -kaisers and autocrats.</p> - -<p class='c010'>At home, when the war is over, there is certain to be -as relatively striking a slant toward social reorganization, -reform, and economic revolution as had taken place in -Russia, and is taking place in England as related by the -<cite>London Times</cite>. When that day comes here, the deep -smouldering distrust of our press will make itself felt. Our -Fourth Estate is to have its day of overhauling and of -being muckraked. The perfectly obvious hostility toward -newspapers of the present Congress, as illustrated by its -attempt to impose a direct and special tax upon them; its -rigorous censorship in spite of the profession’s protest of -last spring; and the heavy additional postage taxes levied -upon some classes of newspapers and the magazines, goes -far to prove this. But even more convincing is the dissatisfaction -with the metropolitan press in every reform -camp and among the plain people. It has grown tremendously -because the masses are, rightly or wrongly, convinced -that the newspapers with heavy capital investments -are a “capitalistic” press and, therefore, opposed -to their interests.</p> - -<p class='c010'>This feeling has grown all the more because so many -hundreds of thousands who were opposed to our going to -war and are opposed to it now still feel that their views—as -opposed to those of the prosperous and intellectual -<span class='pageno' id='Page_29'>29</span>classes—were not voiced in the press last winter. They -know that their position to-day is being misrepresented as -disloyal or pro-German by the bulk of the newspapers. In -this situation many are turning to the Socialistic press as -their one refuge. They, and multitudes who have gradually -been losing faith in the reliability of our journalism, -for one reason or another, can still be won back if we -journalists will but slake their intense thirst for reliable, -trustworthy news, for opinions free from class bias and -not always set forth from the point of view of the well-to-do -and the privileged. How to respond to this need is -the greatest problem before the American press. Meanwhile, -on the business side we drift toward consolidation -on a resistless economic current, which foams past numberless -rocks, and leads no man knows whither.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_30'>30</span> - <h2 class='c008'>THE WANING POWER OF THE PRESS</h2> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c005'> - <div>BY FRANCIS E. LEUPP</div> - </div> -</div> - -<h3 class='c012'>I</h3> - -<p class='c013'>After the last ballot had been cast and counted in the -recent mayoralty contest in New York, the successful -candidate paid his respects to the newspapers which had -opposed him. This is equivalent to saying that he paid -them to the whole metropolitan press; for every great daily -newspaper except one had done its best to defeat him, -and that one had given him only a left-handed support.<a id='r3' /><a href='#f3' class='c015'><sup>[3]</sup></a> -The comments of the mayor-elect, although not ill-tempered, -led up to the conclusion that in our common-sense -generation nobody cares what the newspapers say.</p> - -<div class='footnote' id='f3'> -<p class='c010'><a href='#r3'>3</a>. The conditions here referred to in the election of Mayor Gaynor in -1909 were almost duplicated in 1917, when Mayor Mitchel was defeated -for reëlection, although all the New York newspapers, except the two -Hearst papers and the Socialist daily, supported him.—<span class='sc'>Ed.</span></p> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>Unflattering as such a verdict may be, probably a -majority of the community, if polled as a jury, would -concur in it. The airy dismissal of some proposition as -“mere newspaper talk” is heard at every social gathering, -till one who was brought up to regard the press as a mighty -factor in modern civilization is tempted to wonder whether -it has actually lost the power it used to wield among us. -The answer seems to me to depend on whether we are -considering direct or indirect effects. A newspaper exerts -its most direct influence through its definite interpretation -of current events. Its indirect influence radiates from -the amount and character of the news it prints, the particular -features it accentuates, and its method of presenting -<span class='pageno' id='Page_31'>31</span>these. Hence it is always possible that its direct -influence may be trifling, while its indirect influence is -large; its direct influence harmless, but its indirect influence -pernicious; or <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">vice versa</span></i>.</p> - -<p class='c010'>A distinction ought to be made here like that which we -make between credulity and nerves. The fact that a -dwelling in which a mysterious murder has been committed -may for years thereafter go begging in vain for -a tenant, does not mean that a whole cityful of fairly intelligent -people are victims of the ghost obsession; but it -does mean that no person enjoys being reminded of midnight -assassination every time he crosses his own threshold; -for so persistent a companionship with a discomforting -thought is bound to depress the best nervous system ever -planted in a human being. So the constant iteration of -any idea in a daily newspaper will presently capture public -attention, whether the idea be good or bad, sensible -or foolish. Though the influence of the press, through its -ability to keep certain subjects always before its readers, -has grown with its growth in resources and patronage, its -hold on popular confidence has unquestionably been -loosened during the last forty or fifty years. To Mayor -Gaynor’s inference, as to most generalizations of that -sort, we need not attach serious importance. The interplay -of so many forces in a political campaign makes it -impracticable to separate the influence of the newspapers -from the rest, and either hold it solely accountable for the -result, or pass it over as negligible; for if we tried to -formulate any sweeping rules, we should find it hard to -explain the variegated records of success and defeat among -newspaper favorites. But it may be worth while to -inquire why an institution so full of potentialities as a -free press does not produce more effect than it does, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_32'>32</span>why so many of its leading writers to-day find reason to -deplore the altered attitude of the people toward it.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Not necessarily in their order of importance, but for -convenience of consideration, I should list the causes for -this change about as follows: the transfer of both properties -and policies from personal to impersonal control; -the rise of the cheap magazine; the tendency to specialization -in all forms of public instruction; the fierceness of -competition in the newspaper business; the demand for -larger capital, unsettling the former equipoise between -counting-room and editorial room; the invasion of newspaper -offices by the universal mania of hurry; the development -of the news-getting at the expense of the news-interpreting -function; the tendency to remould narratives -of fact so as to confirm office-made policies; the growing -disregard of decency in the choice of news to be specially -exploited; and the scant time now spared by men of the -world for reading journals of general intelligence.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In the old-style newspaper, in spite of the fact that the -editorial articles were usually anonymous, the editor’s -name appeared among the standing notices somewhere -in every issue, or was so well known to the public that we -talked about “what Greeley thought” of this or that, or -wondered “whether Bryant was going to support” a -certain ticket, or shook our heads over the latest sensational -screed in “Bennett’s paper.” The identity of such -men was clear in the minds of a multitude of readers who -might sometimes have been puzzled to recall the title of -the sheet edited by each. We knew their private histories -and their idiosyncrasies; they were to us no mere abstractions -on the one hand, or wire-worked puppets on the -other, but living, moving, sentient human beings; and our -acquaintance with them enabled us, as we believed, to -locate fairly well their springs of thought and action. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_33'>33</span>Indeed, their very foibles sometimes furnished our best -exegetical key to their writings.</p> - -<p class='c010'>When a politician whom Bryant had criticised threatened -to pull his nose, and Bryant responded by stalking -ostentatiously three times around the bully at their next -meeting in public, the readers of the <cite>Evening Post</cite> did not -lose faith in the editor because he was only human, but -guessed about how far to discount future utterances of -the paper with regard to his antagonist. When Bennett -avowed his intention of advertising the <cite>Herald</cite> without -the expenditure of a dollar, by attacking his enemies so -savagely as to goad them into a physical assault, everybody -understood the motives behind the warfare on both -sides, and attached to it only the significance that the facts -warranted. Knowing Dana’s affiliations, no one mistook -the meaning of the <cite>Sun’s</cite> dismissal of General Hancock as -“a good man, weighing two hundred and fifty pounds, -but ... not Samuel J. Tilden.” And Greeley’s retort -to Bryant, “You lie, villain! willfully, wickedly, basely -lie!” and his denunciation of Bennett as a “low-mouthed, -blatant, witless, brutal scoundrel,” though not preserved as -models of amenity for the emulation of budding editors, -were felt to be balanced by the delicious frankness of the -<cite>Tribune’s</cite> announcement of “the dissolution of the political -firm of Seward, Weed & Greeley by the withdrawal of the -junior partner.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>With all its faults, that era of personal journalism had -some rugged virtues. In referring to it, I am reminded -of a remark made to me, years ago, by the oldest editor -then living,—so old that he had employed Weed as a -journeyman, and refused to hire Greeley as a tramp -printer,—that “in the golden age of our craft, every -editor wore his conscience on his arm, and carried his -dueling weapon in his hand, walked always in the light -<span class='pageno' id='Page_34'>34</span>where the whole world could see him, and was prepared to -defend his published opinions with his life if need be.” -Without going to that extreme, it is easy to sympathize -with the veteran’s view that a man of force, who writes -nothing for which he is not ready to be personally responsible, -commands more respect from the mass of his fellows -than one who shields himself behind a rampart of anonymity, -and voices only the sentiments of a profit-seeking -corporation.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Of course, the transfer of our newspapers from personal -to corporate ownership and control was not a matter of -preference, but a practical necessity. The expense of -modernizing the mechanical equipment alone imposed a -burden which few newspaper proprietors were able to -carry unaided. Add to that the cost of an ever-expanding -news-service, and the higher salaries demanded by satisfactory -employees in all departments, and it is hardly -wonderful that one private owner after another gave up -his single-handed struggle against hopeless financial odds, -and sought aid from men of larger means. Partnership -relations involve so many risks, and are so hard to shift -in an emergency, that resort was had to the form of a -corporation, which afforded the advantage of a limited -liability, and enabled a shareholder to dispose of his -interest if he tired of the game. Since the dependence of -a newspaper on the favor of an often whimsical public -placed it among the least attractive forms of investment, -even under these well-guarded conditions, the capitalists -who were willing to take large blocks of stock were usually -men with political or speculative ends to gain, to which -they could make a newspaper minister by way of compensating -them for the hazards they faced.</p> - -<p class='c010'>These newcomers were not idealists, like the founders -and managers of most of the important journals of an -<span class='pageno' id='Page_35'>35</span>earlier period. They were men of keen commercial instincts, -evidenced by the fact that they had accumulated -wealth. They naturally looked at everything through -the medium of the balance-sheet. Here was a paper with -a fine reputation, but uncertain or disappearing profits; it -must be strengthened, enlarged, and made to pay. Principles? -Yes, principles were good things, but we must -not ride even good things to death. The noblest cause -in creation cannot be promoted by a defunct newspaper, -and to keep its champion alive there must be a net cash -income. The circulation must be pushed, and the advertising -patronage increased. More circulation can be secured -only by keeping the public stirred up. Employ -private detectives to pursue the runaway husband, and -bring him back to his wife; organize a marine expedition -to find the missing ship; send a reporter into the Soudan -to interview the beleaguered general whose own government -is powerless to reach him with an army. Blow the -trumpet, and make ringing announcements every day. If -nothing new is to be had, refurbish something so old that -people have forgotten it, and spread it over lots of space. -Who will know the difference?</p> - -<p class='c010'>What one newspaper did, that others were forced to do -or be distanced in the competition. It all had its effect. -A craving for excitement was first aroused in the public, -and then satisfied by the same hand that had aroused it. -Nobody wished to be behind the times, so circulations -were swelled gradually to tenfold their old dimensions. -Rivalry was worked up among the advertisers in their -turn, till a half-page in a big newspaper commanded a -price undreamed of a few years before. Thus one interest -was made to foster another, each increase of income involving -also an increase of cost, and each additional outlay -bringing fresh returns. In such a race for business -<span class='pageno' id='Page_36'>36</span>success, with such forces behind the runners, can we marvel -at the subsidence of ideals which in the days of individual -control and slower gait were uppermost? With the capitalists’ -plans to promote, and powerful advertisers to -conciliate by emphasizing this subject or discreetly ignoring -that, is not the wonder rather that the moral quality of -our press has not fallen below its present standard?</p> - -<p class='c010'>Even in our day we occasionally find an editor who pays -his individual tribute to the old conception of personal -responsibility by giving his surname to his periodical or -signing his leading articles himself. In such newspaper -ventures as Mr. Bryan and Mr. La Follette have launched -within a few years, albeit their motives are known to be -political and partisan, more attention is attracted by one -of their deliverances than by a score of impersonal preachments. -Mr. Hearst, the high priest of sensational journalism, -though not exploiting his own authority in the -same way, has always taken pains to advertise the individual -work of such lieutenants as Bierce and Brisbane; -and he, like Colonel Taylor of Boston, early opened his -editorial pages to contributions from distinguished authors -outside of his staff, with their signatures attached. A few -editors I have known who, in whatever they wrote with -their own hands, dropped the diffusive “we” and adopted -the more direct and intimate “I.” These things go to -show that even journalists who have received most of -their training in the modern school appreciate that trait -in our common human nature which prompts us to pay -more heed to a living voice than to a talking-machine.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>II</h3> - -<p class='c013'>The importance of a responsible personality finds further -confirmation in the evolution of the modern magazine. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_37'>37</span>From being what its title indicates, a place of storage for -articles believed to have some permanent value, the magazine -began to take on a new character about twenty years -ago. While preserving its distinct identity and its originality, -it leaped boldly into the newspaper arena, and -sought its topics in the happenings of the day, regardless -of their evanescence. It raised a corps of men and women -who might otherwise have toiled in obscurity all their -lives, and gave them a chance to become authorities on -questions of immediate interest, till they are now recognized -as constituting a limited but highly specialized profession. -One group occupied itself with trusts and trust -magnates; another with politicians whose rise had been so -meteoric as to suggest a romance behind it; another with -the inside history of international episodes; another with -new religious movements and their leaders, and so on.</p> - -<p class='c010'>What was the result? The public following which the -newspaper editors used to command when they did business -in the open, but which was falling away from their -anonymous successors, attached itself promptly to the -magazinists. The citizen interested in insurance reform -turned eagerly to all that emanated from the group in -charge of that topic; whoever aspired to take part in the -social uplift bought every number of every periodical in -which the contributions of another group appeared; the -hater of monopoly paid a third group the same compliment. -What was more, the readers pinned their faith to -their favorite writers, and quoted Mr. Steffens and Miss -Tarbell and Mr. Baker on the specialty each had taken, -with much the same freedom with which they might have -quoted Darwin on plant-life, or Edison on electricity. -If any anonymous editor ventured to question the infallibility -of one of these prophets of the magazine world, the -common multitude wasted no thought on the merits of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_38'>38</span>the issue, but sided at once with the teacher whom they -knew at least by name, against the critic whom they knew -not at all. The uncomplimentary assumption as to the -latter always seemed to be that, as only a subordinate -part of a big organism, he was speaking, not from his heart, -but from his orders; and that he must have some sinister -design in trying to discredit an opponent who was not -afraid to stand out and face his fire.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Apropos, let us not fail to note the constant trend, of -recent years, toward specialization in every department of -life and thought. There was a time when a pronouncement -from certain men on nearly any theme would be -accepted by the public, not only with the outward respect -commanded by persons of their social standing, but with -a large measure of positive credence. One who enjoyed -a general reputation for scholarship might set forth his -views this week on a question of archæology, next week on -the significance of the latest earthquake, and a week later -on the new canals on the planet Mars, with the certainty -that each outgiving would affect public opinion to a -marked degree; whereas nowadays we demand that the -most distinguished members of our learned faculty stick -each to his own hobby; the antiquarian to the excavations, -the seismologist to the tremors of our planet, the astronomer -to our remoter colleagues of the solar system. It is -the same with our writers on political, social, and economic -problems. Whereas the old-time editor was expected to -tell his constituency what to think on any subject called -up by the news overnight, it is now taken for granted that -even news must be classified and distributed between -specialists for comment; and the very sense that only one -writer is trusted to handle any particular class of topics -inspires a desire in the public to know who that writer is -before paying much attention to his opinions.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_39'>39</span>The intense competition between newspapers covering -the same field sometimes leads to consequences which do -not strengthen the esteem of the people at large for the -press at large. Witness the controversy which arose over -the conflicting claims of Commander Peary and Dr. Cook -as the original discoverer of the North Pole. One newspaper -syndicate having, at large expense, procured a -narrative directly from the pen of Cook, and another -accomplished a like feat with Peary, to which could “we, -the people,” look for an unbiased opinion on the matters -in dispute? An admission by either that its star contributor -could trifle with the truth was equivalent to -throwing its own exploit into bankruptcy. So each was -bound to stand by the claimant with whom it had first -identified itself, and fight the battle out like an attorney -under retainer; and what started as a serious contest of -priority in a scientific discovery threatened to end as a -wrangle over a newspaper “beat.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then, too, we must reckon with the progressive acceleration -of the pace of our twentieth-century life generally. -Where we walked in the old times, we run in these; where -we ambled then, we gallop now. It is the age of electric -power, high explosives, articulated steel frames, in the -larger world; of the long-distance telephone, the taxicab, -and the card-index, in the narrower. The problem of -existence is reduced to terms of time-measurement, with -the detached lever substituted for the pendulum because -it produces a faster tick.</p> - -<p class='c010'>What is the effect of all this on the modernized newspaper? -It must be first on the ground at every activity, -foreseen or unforeseeable, as a matter of course. Its -reporter must get off his “story” in advance of all his -rivals. Never mind strict accuracy of detail—effect is -the main thing; he is writing, not for expert accountants, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_40'>40</span>or professional statisticians, or analytic philosophers, but -for the public; and what the public wants is, not dry particulars, -but color, vitality, heat. Pictures being a quicker -medium of communication with the reader’s mind than -printed text, nine-tenths of our daily press is illustrated, -and the illustrations of distant events are usually turned -out by artists in the home office from verbal descriptions. -What signifies it if only three cars went off the broken -bridge, and the imaginative draftsman put five into his -picture because he could not wait for the dispatch of correction -which almost always follows the lurid “scoop”? -Who is harmed if the telegram about the suicide reads -“shots” instead of “stabs,” and the artist depicts the self-destroyer -clutching a smoking pistol instead of a dripping -dirk?</p> - -<p class='c010'>It is the province of the champion of the up-to-date -cult to minimize the importance of detail. The purpose -of the picture, he argues, is to stamp a broad impression -instantaneously on the mind, and thus spare it the more -tedious process of reading. And if one detail too many is -put in, or one omitted which ought to have been there, -whoever is sufficiently interested to read the text will -discover the fault, and whoever is not will give it no further -thought anyway. As to the descriptive matter, suppose -it does contain errors? The busy man of our day does not -read his newspaper with the same solemn intent with -which he reads history. What he asks of it is a lightning-like -glimpse of the world which will show him how far it -has moved in the last twelve hours; and he will not pause -to complain of a few deviations from the straight line of -truth, especially if it would have taken more than the -twelve hours to rectify them.</p> - -<p class='c010'>This would perhaps be good logic if the pure-food law -were broadened in scope so as to apply to mental pabulum, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_41'>41</span>and every concocter of newspaper stories and illustrations -were compelled to label his adulterated products. Then -the consumer who does not object to a diet of mixed fact -and falsehood, accuracy and carelessness, so long as the -compound is so seasoned as to tickle his palate, could have -his desire, while his neighbor who wishes an honest article -or nothing at all could have his also. As it is, with no -distinguishing marks, we are liable to buy one thing and -get another.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The new order of “speed before everything” has brought -about its changes at both ends of a newspaper staff. The -editorial writer who used to take a little time to look into -the ramifications of a topic before reducing his opinions -to writing, feels humiliated if an event occurs on which he -cannot turn off a few comments at sight; but he has still -a refuge in such modifying clauses as “in the light of the -meagre details now before us,” or “as it appears at this -writing,” or “in spite of the absence of full particulars, -which may later change the whole aspect of affairs.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>No such covert offers itself to the news-getter in the -open field. What he says must be definite, outright, unqualified, -or the blue pencil slashes remorselessly through -his “it is suspected,” or “according to a rumor which cannot -be traced to its original source.” What business has -he to “suspect”? He is hired to know. For what, pray, -is the newspaper paying him, if not for tracing rumors to -their original source; and further still, if so instructed? -He is there to be, not a thinker, but a worker; a human -machine like a steam potato-digger, which, supplied with -the necessary energizing force from behind, drives its -prods under nature’s mantle, and grubs out the succulent -treasures she is trying to conceal.</p> - -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_42'>42</span> - <h3 class='c014'>III</h3> -</div> - -<p class='c013'>Nowhere is the change more patent than in the department -of special correspondence. At an important point -like Washington, for instance, the old corps of writers -were men of mature years, most of whom had passed an -apprenticeship in the editorial chair, and still held a -semi-editorial relation to the newspapers they represented. -They had studied political history and economics, social -philosophy, and kindred subjects, as a preparation for their -life-work, and were full of a wholesome sense of responsibility -to the public as well as to their employers. Poore, -Nelson, Boynton, and others of their class, were known -by name, and regarded as authorities, in the communities -to which they daily ministered. They were thoughtful -workers as well as enterprising. They went for their -news to the fountain-head, instead of dipping it out of any -chance pool by the wayside. When they sent in to their -home offices either fact or prophecy, they accompanied -it with an interpretation which both editors and public -knew to be no mere feat in lightning guesswork; and the -fame which any of them prized more than a long calendar -of “beats” and “exclusives” was that which would occasionally -move a worsted competitor to confess, “I missed -that news; but if —— sent it out, it is true.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>When, in the later eighties, the new order came, it came -with a rush. The first inkling of it was a notice received, -in the middle of one busy night, by a correspondent who -had been faithfully serving a prominent Western newspaper -for a dozen years, to turn over his bureau to a young -man who up to that time had been doing local reporting -on its home staff. Transfers of other bureaus followed -fast. A few were left, and still remain, undisturbed in -personnel or character of work. Here and there, too, an -<span class='pageno' id='Page_43'>43</span>old-fashioned correspondent was retained, but retired to -an emeritus post, with the privilege of writing a signed -letter when the spirit moved him; while a nimbler-footed -successor assumed titular command and sent the daily -dispatches. The bald fact was that the newspaper managers -had bowed to the hustling humor of the age. They -no longer cared to serve journalistic viands, which required -deliberate mastication, to patrons who clamored -for a quick lunch. So they passed on to their representatives -at a distance the same injunction they were incessantly -pressing upon their reporters at home: “Get the -news, and send it while it is hot. Don’t wait to tell us -what it means or what it points to; we can do our own -ratiocinating.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Is the public a loser by this obscuration of the correspondent’s -former function? I believe so. His appeal is -no longer put to the reader directly: he becomes the mere -tool of the newspaper, which in its turn furnishes to the -reader such parts of his and other communications as it -chooses, and in such forms as best suit its ulterior purposes. -Doubtless this conduces to a more perfect administrative -coördination in the staff at large, but it greatly weakens -the correspondent’s sense of personal responsibility. Poore -had his constituency, Boynton had his, Nelson had his. -None of these men would, under any conceivable stress -of competition, have wittingly misled the group of readers -he had attached to himself; nor would one of them have -tolerated any tampering in the home office with essential -matters in a contribution to which he had signed his name. -Indeed, so well was this understood that I never heard of -anybody’s trying to tamper with them. It occasionally -happened that the correspondent set forth a view somewhat -at variance with that expressed on the editorial -page of the same paper; but each party to this disagreement -<span class='pageno' id='Page_44'>44</span>respected the other, and the public was assumed to -be capable of making its own choice between opposing -opinions clearly stated. A special virtue of the plan of -independent correspondence lay in the opportunity it -often afforded the habitual reader of a single newspaper -to get at least a glance at more than one side of a public -question.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Among the conspicuous fruits of the new régime is the -direction sometimes sent to a correspondent to “write -down” this man or “write up” that project. He knows -that it is a case of obey orders or resign, and it brings to -the surface all the Hessian he may have in his blood. If -he is enough of a casuist, he will try to reconcile good conscience -with worldly wisdom by picturing himself as a -soldier commanded to do something of which he does not -approve. Disobedience at the post of duty is treachery; -resignation in the face of an unwelcome billet is desertion. -So he does what he is bidden, though it may be at the cost -of his self-respect and the esteem of others whose kind -opinion he values. I have had a young correspondent -come to me for information about something under advisement -at the White House, and apologize for not going -there himself by showing me a note from his editor telling -him to “give the President hell.” As he had always been -treated with courtesy at the White House, he had not the -hardihood to go there while engaged in his campaign of -abuse.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Another, who had been intimate with a member of the -administration then in power, was suddenly summoned -one day to a conference with the publisher of his paper. -He went in high spirits, believing that the invitation must -mean at least a promotion in rank or an increase of salary. -He returned crestfallen. Several days afterward he revealed -to me in confidence that the paper had been unsuccessfully -<span class='pageno' id='Page_45'>45</span>seeking some advertising controlled by his -friend, and that the publisher had offered him one thousand -dollars for a series of articles—anonymous, if he -preferred—exposing the private weaknesses of the eminent -man, and giving full names, dates, and other particulars -as to a certain unsavory association in which he was -reported to find pleasure! Still another brought me a -dispatch he had prepared, requesting me to look it over -and see whether it contained anything strictly libelous. -It proved to be a forecast of the course of the Secretary of -the Treasury in a financial crisis then impending. “Technically -speaking,” I said, after reading it, “there is plenty -of libelous material in this, for it represents the Secretary -as about to do something which, to my personal knowledge, -he has never contemplated, and which would stamp him -as unfit for his position if he should attempt it. But as a -matter of fact he will ignore your story, as he is putting -into type to-day a circular which is to be made public -to-morrow, telling what his plan really is, and that will -authoritatively discredit you.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Thank you,” he answered, rather stiffly. “I have my -orders to pitch into the Secretary whenever I get a chance. -I shall send this to-day, and to-morrow I can send another -saying that my exclusive disclosures forced him to change -his programme at the last moment.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>These are sporadic cases, I admit, yet they indicate -a mischievous tendency; just as each railway accident is -itself sporadic, but too frequent fatalities from a like -cause on the same line point to something wrong in the -management of the road. It is not necessary to call -names on the one hand, or indulge in wholesale denunciation -on the other, in order to indicate the extremes to -which the current pace in journalism must inevitably -lead if kept up. The broadest-minded and most honorable -<span class='pageno' id='Page_46'>46</span>men in our calling realize the disagreeable truth. A -few of the great newspapers, too, have the courage to -cling still to the old ideals, both in their editorial attitude -and in their instructions to their news-gatherers. Possibly -their profits are smaller for their squeamishness; but -that the better quality of their patronage makes up in a -measure for its lesser quantity, is evident to any one -familiar with the advertising business. Moreover, in the -character of its employees and in the zeal and intelligence -of their service, a newspaper conducted on the higher -plane possesses an asset which cannot be appraised in -dollars and cents. Of one such paper a famous man once -said to me, “I disagree with half its political views; I am -regarded as a personal enemy by its editor; but I read it -religiously every day, and it is the only daily that enters -the front door of my home. It is a paper written by -gentlemen for gentlemen; and, though it exasperates me -often, it never offends my nostrils with the odors of the -slums.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>This last remark leads to another consideration touching -the relaxed hold of the press on public confidence: I refer -to the topics treated in the news columns, and the manner -of their presentation. Its importance is attested by the -sub-titles or mottoes adopted by several prominent newspapers, -emphasizing their appeal to the family as a special -constituency. In spite of the intense individualism, the -reciprocal independence of the sexes, and the freedom from -the trammels of feudal tradition of which we Americans -boast, the social unit in this country is the family. Toward -it a thousand lines of interest converge, from it a thousand -lines of influence flow. Public opinion is unconsciously -moulded by it, for the atmosphere of the home follows the -father into his office, the son into his college, the daughter -into her intimate companionships. The newspaper, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_47'>47</span>therefore, which keeps the family in touch with the outside -world, though it may have to be managed with more -discretion than one whose circulation is chiefly in the -streets, finds its compensation in its increased radius of -influence of the subtler sort. For such a field, nothing is -less fit than the noisome domestic scandals and the gory -horrors which fill so much of the space in newspapers of -the lowest rank, and which in these later years have made -occasional inroads into some of a higher grade. Unfortunately, -these occasional inroads do more to damage the -general standing of the press than the habitual revel in -vulgarity. For a newspaper which frankly avows itself -unhampered by niceties of taste can be branded and set -aside as belonging in the impossible category; whereas, -when one with a clean exterior and a reputation for respectability -proves unworthy, its faithlessness arouses in -the popular mind a distrust of all its class.</p> - -<p class='c010'>And yet, whatever we may say of the modern press on -its less commendable side, we are bound to admit that -newspapers, like governments, fairly reflect the people -they serve. Charles Dudley Warner once went so far as -to say that no matter how objectionable the character -of a paper may be, it is always a trifle better than the -patrons on whom it relies for its support. I suspect that -Mr. Warner’s comparison rested on the greater frankness -of the bad paper, which, by very virtue of its mode of -appeal, is bound to make a brave parade of its worst -qualities; whereas the reader who is loudest in proclaiming -in public his repugnance for horrors, and his detestation -of scandals, may in private be buying daily the sheet -which peddles both most shamelessly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>This sort of conventional hypocrisy among the common -run of people is easier to forgive than the same thing -among the cultivated few whom we accept as mentors. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_48'>48</span>I stumbled upon an illuminating incident about five years -ago which I cannot forbear recalling here. A young -man just graduated from college, where he had attracted -some attention by the cleverness of his pen, was invited -to a position on the staff of the <cite>New York Journal</cite>. Visiting -a leading member of the college faculty to say farewell, -he mentioned this compliment with not a little pride. -In an instant the professor was up in arms, with an earnest -protest against his handicapping his whole career by having -anything to do with so monstrous an exponent of yellow -journalism. The lad was deeply moved by the good man’s -outburst, and went home sorrowful. After a night’s -sleep on it, he resolved to profit by the admonition, and -accordingly called upon the editor, and asked permission -to withdraw his tentative acceptance. In the explanation -which followed he inadvertently let slip the name of -his adviser. He saw a cynical smile cross the face of Mr. -Hearst, who summoned a stenographer, and in his presence -dictated a letter to the professor, requesting a five-hundred-word -signed article for the next Sunday’s issue -and inclosing a check for two hundred and fifty dollars. -On Sunday the ingenuous youth beheld the article in a -conspicuous place on the <cite>Journal’s</cite> editorial page, with the -professor’s full name appended in large capitals.</p> - -<p class='c009'>We have already noted some of the effects produced on -the press by the hurry-skurry of our modern life. Quite -as significant are sundry phenomena recorded by Dr. -Walter Dill Scott as the result of an inquiry into the reading -habits of two thousand representative business and -professional men in a typical American city. Among -other things, he discovered that most of them spent not -to exceed fifteen minutes a day on their newspapers. As -some spent less, and some divided the time between two -<span class='pageno' id='Page_49'>49</span>or three papers, the average period devoted to any one -paper could safely be placed at from five to ten minutes. -The admitted practice of most of the group was to look -at the headlines, the table of contents, and the weather -reports, and then apparently at some specialty in which -they were individually interested. The editorial articles -seem to have offered them few attractions, but news items -of one sort or another engaged seventy-five per cent of -their attention.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In an age as skeptical as ours, there is nothing astonishing -in the low valuation given, by men of a class competent -to do their own thinking, to anonymous opinion; but it -will strike many as strange that this class takes no deeper -interest in the news of the day. The trained psychologist -may find it worth while to study out here the relation of -cause and effect. Does the ordinary man of affairs show -so scant regard for his newspaper because he no longer -believes half it tells him, or only because his mind is so -absorbed in matters closer at hand, and directly affecting -his livelihood? Have the newspapers perverted the public -taste with sensational surprises till it can no longer appreciate -normal information normally conveyed?</p> - -<p class='c010'>Professor Münsterberg would doubtless have told us that -the foregoing statistics simply justify his charge against -Americans as a people; that we have gone leaping and -gasping through life till we have lost the faculty of mental -concentration, and hence that few of us can read any -more. Whatever the explanation, the central fact has -been duly recognized by all the yellow journals, and by -some also which have not yet passed beyond the cream-colored -stage. The “scare heads” and exaggerated type -which, as a lure for purchasers, filled all their needs a few -years ago, are no longer regarded as sufficient, but have -given way to startling bill-board effects, with huge headlines, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_50'>50</span>in block-letter and vermilion ink, spread across an -entire front page.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The worst phase of this whole business, however, is -one which does not appear on the surface, but which certainly -offers food for serious reflection. The point of -view from which all my criticisms have been made is that -of the citizen of fair intelligence and education. It is he -who has been weaned from his faith in the organ of opinion -which satisfied his father, till he habitually sneers at -“mere newspaper talk”; it is he who has descended from -reading to simply skimming the news, and who consciously -suffers from the errors which adulterate, and the vulgarity -which taints, that product. But there is another -element in the community which has not his well-sharpened -instinct for discrimination; which can afford to buy -only the cheapest, and is drawn toward the lowest, daily -prints; which, during the noon hour and at night, finds -time to devour all the tenement tragedies, all the palace -scandals, and all the incendiary appeals designed to make -the poor man think that thrift is robbery. Over that -element we find the vicious newspaper still exercising an -enormous sway; and, admitting that so large a proportion -of the outwardly reputable press has lost its hold upon the -better class of readers, what must we look for as the resultant -of two such unbalanced forces?</p> - -<p class='c010'>Not a line of these few pages has been written in a -carping, much less in a pessimistic spirit. I love the -profession in whose practice I passed the largest and -happiest part of my life; but the very pride I feel in its -worthy achievements makes me, perhaps, the more sensitive -to its shortcomings as these reveal themselves to an -unprejudiced scrutiny. The limits of this article as to -both space and scope forbid my following its subject into -some inviting by-paths: as, for instance, the distinction -<span class='pageno' id='Page_51'>51</span>to be observed between initiative and support in comparing -the influence of the modern newspaper with that of -its ancestor of a half-century ago. I am sorry, also, to -put forth so many strictures without furnishing a constructive -sequel. It would be interesting, for example, -to weigh such possibilities as an endowed newspaper which -should do for the press, as a protest against its offenses of -deliberation and its faults of haste and carelessness, what -an endowed theatre might do for the rescue of the stage -from a condition of chronic inanity. But it must remain -for a more profound philosopher, whose function is to -specialize in opinion rather than to generalize in comment, -to show what remedies are practicable for the disorders -which beset the body of our modern journalism.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_52'>52</span> - <h2 class='c008'>NEWSPAPER MORALS</h2> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c005'> - <div>BY H. L. MENCKEN</div> - </div> -</div> - -<h3 class='c012'>I</h3> - -<p class='c013'>Aspiring, toward the end of my nonage, to the black -robes of a dramatic critic, I took counsel with an ancient -whose service went back to the days of <cite>Our American -Cousin</cite>, asking him what qualities were chiefly demanded -by the craft.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“The main idea,” he told me frankly, “is to be interesting, -to write a good story. All else is dross. Of course, I -am not against accuracy, fairness, information, learning. -If you want to read Lessing and Freytag, Hazlitt and -Brunetière, go read them: they will do you no harm. It -is also useful to know something about Shakespeare. But -unless you can make people <em>read</em> your criticisms, you may -as well shut up your shop. And the only way to make -them read you is to give them something exciting.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You suggest, then,” I ventured, “a certain—ferocity?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I do,” replied my venerable friend. “Read George -Henry Lewes, and see how <em>he</em> did it—sometimes with a -bladder on a string, usually with a meat-axe. Knock somebody -on the head every day—if not an actor, then the -author, and if not the author, then the manager. And if -the play and the performance are perfect, then excoriate -someone who doesn’t think so—a fellow critic, a rival -manager, the unappreciative public. But make it hearty; -make it hot! The public would rather be the butt itself -than have no butt in the ring. That is Rule Number 1 -of American psychology—and of English, too, but more -<span class='pageno' id='Page_53'>53</span>especially of American. You must give a good show to -get a crowd, and a good show means one with slaughter -in it.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Destiny soon robbed me of my critical shroud, and I fell -into a long succession of less æsthetic newspaper berths, -from that of police reporter to that of managing editor, -but always the advice of my ancient counselor kept turning -over and over in my memory, and as chance offered -I began to act upon it, and whenever I acted upon it I -found that it worked. What is more, I found that other -newspaper men acted upon it too, some of them quite -consciously and frankly, and others through a veil of self-deception, -more or less diaphanous. The primary aim of -all of them, no less when they played the secular Iokanaan -than when they played the mere newsmonger, was to please -the crowd, to give a good show; and the way they set about -giving that good show was by first selecting a deserving -victim, and then putting him magnificently to the torture.</p> - -<p class='c010'>This was their method when they were performing for -their own profit only, when their one motive was to make -the public read their paper; but it was still their method -when they were battling bravely and unselfishly for the -public good, and so discharging the highest duty of their -profession. They lightened the dull days of midsummer -by pursuing recreant aldermen with bloodhounds and -artillery, by muckraking unsanitary milk-dealers, or by -denouncing Sunday liquor-selling in suburban parks—and -they fought constructive campaigns for good government -in exactly the same gothic, melodramatic way. Always -their first aim was to find a concrete target, to visualize -their cause in some definite and defiant opponent. And -always their second aim was to shell that opponent until -he dropped his arms and took to ignominious flight. It -was not enough to maintain and to prove: it was necessary -<span class='pageno' id='Page_54'>54</span>also to pursue and overcome, to lay a specific somebody -low, to give the good show aforesaid.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Does this confession of newspaper practice involve a -libel upon the American people? Perhaps it does—on -the theory, let us say, that the greater the truth, the greater -the libel. But I doubt if any reflective newspaper man, -however lofty his professional ideals, will ever deny any -essential part of that truth. He knows very well that a -definite limit is set, not only upon the people’s capacity -for grasping intellectual concepts, but also upon their capacity -for grasping moral concepts. He knows that it is -necessary, if he would catch and inflame them, to state his -ethical syllogism in the homely terms of their habitual -ethical thinking. And he knows that this is best done by -dramatizing and vulgarizing it, by filling it with dynamic -and emotional significance, by translating all argument for -a principle into rage against a man.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In brief, he knows that it is hard for the plain people to -<em>think</em> about a thing, but easy for them to <em>feel</em>. Error, to -hold their attention, must be visualized as a villain, and -the villain must proceed swiftly to his inevitable retribution. -They can understand that process; it is simple, usual, -satisfying; it squares with their primitive conception of -justice as a form of revenge. The hero fires them too, but -less certainly, less violently than the villain. His defect is -that he offers thrills at second-hand. It is the merit of the -villain, pursued publicly by a <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">posse comitatus</span></i>, that he makes -the public breast the primary seat of heroism, that he -makes every citizen a personal participant in a glorious -act of justice. Wherefore it is ever the aim of the sagacious -journalist to foster that sense of personal participation. -The wars that he wages are always described as the -people’s wars, and he himself affects to be no more than -their strategist and <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">claque</span></i>. When the victory has once -<span class='pageno' id='Page_55'>55</span>been gained, true enough, he may take all the credit without -a blush; but while the fight is going on he always pretends -that every honest yeoman is enlisted, and he is even -eager to make it appear that the yeomanry began it on -their own motion, and out of the excess of their natural -virtue.</p> - -<p class='c010'>I assume here, as an axiom too obvious to be argued, -that the chief appeal of a newspaper, in all such holy -causes, is not at all to the educated and reflective minority -of citizens, but frankly to the ignorant and unreflective -majority. The truth is that it would usually get a newspaper -nowhere to address its exhortations to the former; -for, in the first place, they are too few in number to make -their support of much value in general engagements, and, -in the second place, it is almost always impossible to convert -them into disciplined and useful soldiers. They are -too cantankerous for that, too ready with embarrassing -strategy of their own. One of the principal marks of an -educated man, indeed, is the fact that he does not take his -opinions from newspapers—not, at any rate, from the -militant, crusading newspapers. On the contrary, his attitude -toward them is almost always one of frank cynicism, -with indifference as its mildest form and contempt as its -commonest. He knows that they are constantly falling -into false reasoning about the things within his personal -knowledge,—that is, within the narrow circle of his special -education,—and so he assumes that they make the -same, or even worse, errors about other things, whether -intellectual or moral. This assumption, it may be said at -once, is quite justified by the facts.</p> - -<p class='c010'>I know of no subject, in truth, save perhaps baseball, -on which the average American newspaper, even in the -larger cities, discourses with unfailing sense and understanding. -Whenever the public journals presume to illuminate -<span class='pageno' id='Page_56'>56</span>such a matter as municipal taxation, for example, -or the extension of local transportation facilities, or the -punishment of public or private criminals, or the control -of public-service corporations, or the revision of city charters, -the chief effect of their effort is to introduce into it a -host of extraneous issues, most of them wholly emotional, -and so they contrive to make it unintelligible to all earnest -seekers after the truth.</p> - -<p class='c010'>But it does not follow thereby that they also make it -unintelligible to their special client, the man in the street. -Far from it. What they actually accomplish is the exact -opposite. That is to say, it is precisely by this process of -transmutation and emotionalization that they bring a given -problem down to the level of that man’s comprehension, -and, what is more important, within the range of his active -sympathies. He is not interested in anything that does -not stir him, and he is not stirred by anything that fails -to impinge upon his small stock of customary appetites -and attitudes. His daily acts are ordered, not by any complex -process of reasoning, but by a continuous process of -very elemental feeling. He is not at all responsive to -purely intellectual argument, even when its theme is his -own ultimate benefit, for such argument quickly gets -beyond his immediate interest and experience. But he is -very responsive to emotional suggestion, particularly when -it is crudely and violently made; and it is to this weakness -that the newspapers must ever address their endeavors. -In brief, they must try to arouse his horror, or indignation, -or pity, or simply his lust for slaughter. Once they have -done that, they have him safely by the nose. He will follow -blindly until his emotion wears out. He will be ready -to believe anything, however absurd, so long as he is in his -state of psychic tumescence.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In the reform campaigns which periodically rock our -<span class='pageno' id='Page_57'>57</span>large cities,—and our small ones, too,—the newspapers -habitually make use of this fact. Such campaigns are not -intellectual wars upon erroneous principles, but emotional -wars upon errant men: they always revolve around the -pursuit of some definite, concrete, fugitive malefactor, or -group of malefactors. That is to say, they belong to popular -sport rather than to the science of government; the -impulse behind them is always far more orgiastic than reflective. -For good government in the abstract, the people -of the United States seem to have no liking, or, at all -events, no passion. It is impossible to get them stirred up -over it, or even to make them give serious thought to it. -They seem to assume that it is a mere phantasm of theorists, -a political will-o’-the-wisp, a utopian dream—wholly -uninteresting, and probably full of dangers and tricks. The -very discussion of it bores them unspeakably, and those -papers which habitually discuss it logically and unemotionally—for -example, the <cite>New York Evening Post</cite>—are -diligently avoided by the mob. What the mob thirsts for -is not good government in itself, but the merry chase of a -definite exponent of bad government. The newspaper -that discovers such an exponent—or, more accurately, -the newspaper that discovers dramatic and overwhelming -evidence against him—has all the material necessary for -a reform wave of the highest emotional intensity. All that -it need do is to goad the victim into a fight. Once he has -formally joined the issue, the people will do the rest. They -are always ready for a man-hunt, and their favorite quarry -is the man of politics. If no such prey is at hand, they will -turn to wealthy debauchees, to fallen Sunday-school superintendents, -to money barons, to white-slave traders, to -un-sedulous chiefs of police. But their first choice is the -boss.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In assaulting bosses, however, a newspaper must look -<span class='pageno' id='Page_58'>58</span>carefully to its ammunition, and to the order and interrelation -of its salvos. There is such a thing, at the start, as -overshooting the mark, and the danger thereof is very -serious. The people must be aroused by degrees, gently -at first, and then with more and more ferocity. They are -not capable of reaching the maximum of indignation at -one leap: even on the side of pure emotion they have their -rigid limitations. And this, of course, is because even -emotion must have a quasi-intellectual basis, because even -indignation must arise out of facts. One fact at a time! -If a newspaper printed the whole story of a political boss’s -misdeeds in a single article, that article would have scarcely -any effect whatever, for it would be far too long for the -average reader to read and absorb. He would never get -to the end of it, and the part he actually traversed would -remain muddled and distasteful in his memory. Far from -arousing an emotion in him, it would arouse only ennui, -which is the very antithesis of emotion. He cannot read -more than three columns of any one subject without tiring: -6,000 words, I should say, is the extreme limit of his appetite. -And the nearer he is pushed to that limit, the greater -the strain upon his psychic digestion. He can absorb a -single capital fact, leaping from a headline, at one colossal -gulp; but he could not down a dissertation in twenty. And -the first desideratum in a headline is that it deal with a -single and capital fact. It must be, “McGinnis Steals -$1,257,867.25,” not, “McGinnis Lacks Ethical Sense.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Moreover, a newspaper article which presumed to tell -the whole of a thrilling story in one gargantuan installment -would lack the dynamic element, the quality of -mystery and suspense. Even if it should achieve the -miracle of arousing the reader to a high pitch of excitement, -it would let him drop again next day. If he is to -be kept in his frenzy long enough for it to be dangerous to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_59'>59</span>the common foe, he must be led into it gradually. The -newspaper in charge of the business must harrow him, -tease him, promise him, hold him. It is thus that his -indignation is transformed from a state of being into a -state of gradual and cumulative becoming; it is thus that -reform takes on the character of a hotly contested game, -with the issue agreeably in doubt. And it is always as a -game, of course, that the man in the street views moral -endeavor. Whether its proposed victim be a political boss, -a police captain, a gambler, a fugitive murderer, or a disgraced -clergyman, his interest in it is almost purely a sporting -interest. And the intensity of that interest, of course, -depends upon the fierceness of the clash. The game is -fascinating in proportion as the morally pursued puts up -a stubborn defense, and in proportion as the newspaper -directing the pursuit is resourceful and merciless, and in -proportion as the eminence of the quarry is great and his -resultant downfall spectacular. A war against a ward -boss seldom attracts much attention, even in the smaller -cities, for he is insignificant to begin with and an inept and -cowardly fellow to end with; but the famous war upon -William M. Tweed shook the whole nation, for he was a -man of tremendous power, he was a brave and enterprising -antagonist, and his fall carried a multitude of other men -with him. Here, indeed, was sport royal, and the plain -people took to it with avidity.</p> - -<p class='c010'>But once such a buccaneer is overhauled and manacled, -the show is over, and the people take no further interest in -reform. In place of the fallen boss, a so-called reformer -has been set up. He goes into office with public opinion -apparently solidly behind him: there is every promise that -the improvement achieved will be lasting. But experience -shows that it seldom is. Reform does not last. The reformer -quickly loses his public. His usual fate, indeed, is -<span class='pageno' id='Page_60'>60</span>to become the pet butt and aversion of his public. The -very mob that put him into office chases him out of office. -And after all, there is nothing very astonishing about this -change of front, which is really far less a change of front -than it seems. The mob has been fed, for weeks preceding -the reformer’s elevation, upon the blood of big and little -bosses; it has acquired a taste for their chase, and for the -chase in general. Now, of a sudden, it is deprived of that -stimulating sport. The old bosses are in retreat; there are -yet no new bosses to belabor and pursue; the newspapers -which elected the reformer are busily apologizing for his -amateurish errors—a dull and dispiriting business. No -wonder it now becomes possible for the old bosses, acting -through their inevitable friends on the respectable side,—the -“solid” business men, the takers of favors, the underwriters -of political enterprise, and the newspapers influenced -by these pious fellows,—to start the rabble against -the reformer. The trick is quite as easy as that but lately -done. The rabble wants a good show, a game, a victim: -it doesn’t care who that victim may be. How easy to convince -it that the reformer is a scoundrel himself, that he is -as bad as any of the old bosses, that he ought to go to the -block for high crimes and misdemeanors! It never had -any actual love for him, or even any faith in him; his election -was a mere incident of the chase of his predecessor. -No wonder that it falls upon him eagerly, butchering him -to make a new holiday!</p> - -<p class='c010'>This is what has happened over and over again in every -large American city—Chicago, New York, St. Louis, Cincinnati, -Pittsburg, New Orleans, Baltimore, San Francisco, -St. Paul, Kansas City. Every one of these places has had -its melodramatic reform campaigns and its inevitable reactions. -The people have leaped to the overthrow of bosses, -and then wearied of the ensuing tedium. A perfectly -<span class='pageno' id='Page_61'>61</span>typical slipping back, to be matched in a dozen other cities, -is going on in Philadelphia to-day [1914]. Mayor Rudolph -Blankenberg, a veteran war-horse of reform, came into -office through the downfall of the old bosses, a catastrophe -for which he had labored and agitated for more than thirty -years. But now the old bosses are getting their revenge by -telling the people that he is a violent and villainous boss -himself. Certain newspapers are helping them; they have -concealed but powerful support among financiers and business -men; volunteers have even come forward from other -cities—for example, the Mayor of Baltimore. Slowly but -surely this insidious campaign is making itself felt; the -common people show signs of yearning for another <i><span lang="pt" xml:lang="pt">auto-da-fé</span></i>. -Mayor Blankenberg, unless I am the worst prophet -unhung, will meet with an overwhelming defeat in 1915.<a id='r4' /><a href='#f4' class='c015'><sup>[4]</sup></a> -And it will be a very difficult thing to put even a half-decent -man in his place: the victory of the bosses will be -so nearly complete that they will be under no necessity of -offering compromises. Employing a favorite device of -political humor, they may select a harmless blank cartridge, -a respectable numskull, what is commonly called a -perfumer. But the chances are that they will select a frank -ringster, and that the people will elect him with cheers.</p> - -<div class='footnote' id='f4'> -<p class='c010'><a href='#r4'>4</a>. This was written in 1914. The overthrow of Blankenberg took place -as forecast, and Philadelphia has since enjoyed boss rule again, with -plentiful scandals.—H. L. M.</p> -</div> - -<h3 class='c014'>II</h3> - -<p class='c013'>Such is the ebb and flow of emotion in the popular -heart—or perhaps, if we would be more accurate, the popular -liver. It does not constitute an intelligible system of -morality, for morality, at bottom, is not at all an instinctive -matter, but a purely intellectual matter: its essence is the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_62'>62</span>control of impulse by an ideational process, the subordination -of the immediate desire to the distant aim. But such -as it is, it is the only system of morality that the emotional -majority is capable of comprehending and practicing; and -so the newspapers, which deal with majorities quite as -frankly as politicians deal with them, have to admit it -into their own system. That is to say, they cannot accomplish -anything by talking down to the public from a moral -plane higher than its own: they must take careful account -of its habitual ways of thinking, its moral thirsts and prejudices, -its well-defined limitations. They must remember -clearly, as judges and lawyers have to remember it, that -the morality subscribed to by that public is far from the -stern and arctic morality of professors of the science. On -the contrary, it is a mellower and more human thing; it -has room for the antithetical emotions of sympathy and -scorn; it makes no effort to separate the criminal from his -crime.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The higher moralities, running up to that of Puritans -and archbishops, allow no weight to custom, to general reputation, -to temptation; they hold it to be no defense of -a ballot-box stuffer, for example, that he had scores of -accomplices and that he is kind to his little children. But -the popular morality regards such a defense as sound and -apposite; it is perfectly willing to convert a trial on a -specific charge into a trial on a general charge. And in -giving judgment it is always ready to let feeling triumph -over every idea of abstract justice; and very often that -feeling has its origin and support, not in matters actually -in evidence, but in impressions wholly extraneous and irrelevant.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Hence the need of a careful and wary approach in all -newspaper crusades, particularly on the political side. On -the one hand, as I have said, the astute journalist must -<span class='pageno' id='Page_63'>63</span>remember the public’s incapacity for taking in more than -one thing at a time, and on the other hand, he must remember -its disposition to be swayed by mere feeling, and -its habit of founding that feeling upon general and indefinite -impressions. Reduced to a rule of everyday practice, -this means that the campaign against a given malefactor -must begin a good while before the capital accusation—that -is, the accusation upon which a verdict of guilty is -sought—is formally brought forward. There must be a -shelling of the fortress before the assault; suspicion must -precede indignation. If this preliminary work is neglected -or ineptly performed, the result is apt to be a collapse of -the campaign. The public is not ready to switch from confidence -to doubt on the instant; if its general attitude toward -a man is sympathetic, that sympathy is likely to survive -even a very vigorous attack. The accomplished mob-master -lays his course accordingly. His first aim is to -arouse suspicion, to break down the presumption of innocence—supposing, -of course, that he finds it to exist. He -knows that he must plant a seed, and tend it long and -lovingly, before he may pluck his dragon-flower. He -knows that all storms of emotion, however suddenly they -may seem to come up, have their origin over the rim of -consciousness, and that their gathering is really a slow, -slow business. I mix the figures shamelessly, as mob-masters -mix their brews!</p> - -<p class='c010'>It is this persistence of an attitude which gives a certain -degree of immunity to all newcomers in office, even in the -face of sharp and resourceful assault. For example, a new -president. The majority in favor of him on Inauguration -Day is usually overwhelming, no matter how small his -plurality in the November preceding, for common self-respect -demands that the people magnify his virtues: to -deny them would be a confession of national failure, a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_64'>64</span>destructive criticism of the Republic. And that benignant -disposition commonly survives until his first year in office -is more than half gone. The public prejudice is wholly -on his side: his critics find it difficult to arouse any indignation -against him, even when the offenses they lay to -him are in violation of the fundamental axioms of popular -morality. This explains why it was that Mr. Wilson was -so little damaged by the charge of federal interference in -the Diggs-Caminetti case—a charge well supported by -the evidence brought forward, and involving a serious violation -of popular notions of virtue. And this explains, too, -why he survived the oratorical pilgrimages of his Secretary -of State at a time of serious international difficulty—pilgrimages -apparently undertaken with his approval, and -hence at his political risk and cost. The people were still -in favor of him, and so he was not brought to irate and -drum-head judgment. No roar of indignation arose to the -heavens. The opposition newspapers, with sure instinct, -felt the irresistible force of public opinion on his side, and -so they ceased their clamor very quickly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>But it is just such a slow accumulation of pin-pricks, -each apparently harmless in itself, that finally draws blood; -it is by just such a leisurely and insidious process that the -presumption of innocence is destroyed, and a hospitality -to suspicion created. The campaign against Governor -Sulzer in New York offers a classic example of this process -in operation, with very skillful gentlemen, journalistic and -political, in control of it. The charges on which Governor -Sulzer was finally brought to impeachment were not -launched at him out of a clear sky, nor while the primary -presumption in his favor remained unshaken. Not at all. -They were launched at a carefully selected and critical -moment—at the end, to wit, of a long and well-managed -series of minor attacks. The fortress of his popularity was -<span class='pageno' id='Page_65'>65</span>bombarded a long while before it was assaulted. He was -pursued with insinuations and innuendoes; various persons, -more or less dubious, were led to make various -charges, more or less vague, against him; the managers of -the campaign sought to poison the plain people with -doubts, misunderstandings, suspicions. This effort, so -diligently made, was highly successful; and so the capital -charges, when they were brought forward at last, had the -effect of confirmations, of corroborations, of proofs. But -if Tammany had made them during the first few months -of Governor Sulzer’s term, while all doubts were yet in -his favor, it would have got only scornful laughter for its -pains. The ground had to be prepared; the public mind -had to be put into training.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The end of my space is near, and I find that I have -written of popular morality very copiously, and of newspaper -morality very little. But, as I have said before, the -one is the other. The newspaper must adapt its pleading -to its clients’ moral limitations, just as the trial lawyer -must adapt <em>his</em> pleading to the jury’s limitations. Neither -may like the job, but both must face it to gain a larger -end. And that end, I believe, is a worthy one in the newspaper’s -case quite as often as in the lawyer’s, and perhaps -far oftener. The art of leading the vulgar, in itself, does -no discredit to its practitioner. Lincoln practiced it unashamed, -and so did Webster, Clay, and Henry. What is -more, these men practiced it with frank allowance for the -naïveté of the people they presumed to lead. It was Lincoln’s -chief source of strength, indeed, that he had a homely -way with him, that he could reduce complex problems to -the simple terms of popular theory and emotion, that he -did not ask little fishes to think and act like whales. This -is the manner in which the newspapers do their work, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_66'>66</span>in the long run, I am convinced, they accomplish about as -much good as harm thereby. Dishonesty, of course, is -not unknown among them: we have newspapers in this -land which apply a truly devilish technical skill to the -achievement of unsound and unworthy ends. But not as -many of them as perfectionists usually allege. Taking one -with another, they strive in the right direction. They -realize the massive fact that the plain people, for all their -poverty of wit, cannot be fooled forever. They have a -healthy fear of that heathen rage which so often serves -their uses.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Look back a generation or two. Consider the history of -our democracy since the Civil War. Our most serious -problems, it must be plain, have been solved orgiastically, -and to the tune of deafening newspaper urging and clamor. -Men have been washed into office on waves of emotion, -and washed out again in the same manner. Measures and -policies have been determined by indignation far more -often than by cold reason. But is the net result evil? Is -there even any permanent damage from those debauches -of sentiment in which the newspapers have acted insincerely, -unintelligently, with no thought save for the show -itself? I doubt it. The effect of their long and melodramatic -chase of bosses is an undoubted improvement in -our whole governmental method. The boss of to-day is -not an envied first citizen, but a criminal constantly on -trial. He himself is debarred from all public offices of -honor, and his control over other public officers grows less -and less. Elections are no longer boldly stolen; the humblest -citizen may go to the polls in safety and cast his vote -honestly; the machine grows less dangerous year by year; -perhaps it is already less dangerous than a <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">camorra</span></i> of -utopian and dehumanized reformers would be. We begin -to develop an official morality which actually rises above -<span class='pageno' id='Page_67'>67</span>our private morality. Bribe-takers are sent to jail by the -votes of jurymen who give presents in their daily business, -and are not above beating the street-car company.</p> - -<p class='c010'>And so, too, in narrower fields. The white-slave agitation -of a year or so ago was ludicrously extravagant and -emotional, but its net effect is a better conscience, a new -alertness. The newspapers discharged broadsides of 12–inch -guns to bring down a flock of buzzards—but they -brought down the buzzards. They have libeled and -lynched the police—but the police are the better for it. -They have represented salicylic acid as an elder brother to -bichloride of mercury—but we are poisoned less than we -used to be. They have lifted the plain people to frenzies -of senseless terror over drinking-cups and neighbors with -coughs—but the death-rate from tuberculosis declines. -They have railroaded men to prison, denying them all -their common rights—but fewer malefactors escape to-day -than yesterday.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The way of ethical progress is not straight. It describes, -to risk a mathematical pun, a sort of drunken hyperbola. -But if we thus move onward and upward by leaps and -bounces, it is certainly better than not moving at all. Each -time, perhaps, we slip back, but each time we stop at a -higher level.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_68'>68</span> - <h2 class='c008'>NEWSPAPER MORALS: A REPLY</h2> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c005'> - <div>BY RALPH PULITZER</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>The striking article in the March <cite>Atlantic</cite> by Mr. Henry -L. Mencken, on “Newspaper Morals,” is so full of palpable -facts supporting plausible fallacies that simple justice -to press and “proletariat” seems to render proper a few -thoughts in answer to it.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mr. Mencken’s main facts, summarized, are as follows: -that press and public often approach public questions too -superficially and sentimentally; that the sense of proportion -is too often lost in the heat of campaigns; that the -truth is too often obscured by the intrusion of irrelevant -personalities; and that after the intemperate extremes of -reform waves there always come reactions into indifference -to the evils but yesterday so furiously fought.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mr. Mencken’s fallacies are: the supercilious assumption -that these weaknesses are not matters of human temperament -running up and down through a certain proportion -of every division of society, but that, on the contrary, -they are class affairs, never tainting the educated classes, -but limited to “the man in the street,” “the rabble,” -“the mob”; that apparently the emotionalizing of public -questions by the press is to be censured in principle and -sneered at in practice; that it means a deliberate truckling -by the newspapers to the ignorant tastes of the masses -when the press fights a public evil by attacking, with argument -and indignation mingled, a man who personifies that -evil, instead of opposing the general principle of that evil -with a wholly passionless intellectualism.</p> - -<p class='c010'>A general fallacy which affects Mr. Mencken’s whole -<span class='pageno' id='Page_69'>69</span>article lies in criticising as offenses against “newspaper -morals” those imperfections which, where they exist at all, -could properly be criticised only under such criteria as -suggested by “Newspaper Intellectuals,” or “Newspapers -as the Exponents of Pure Reason.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mr. Mencken first exposes and deprecates the “aim” of -the newspapers to “knock somebody on the head every -day,” “to please the crowd, to give a good show, by first -selecting a deserving victim and then putting him magnificently -to the torture,” and even to fight “constructive -campaigns for good government in exactly the same gothic, -melodramatic way.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Now “muck-raking” rather than incense-burning is not -a deliberate aim so much as a spontaneous instinct of the -average newspaper. Nor is there anything either mysterious -or reprehensible about this. The public, of all degrees, -is more interested in hitting Wrong than in praising Right, -because fortunately we are still in an optimistic state of -society, where Right is taken for granted and Wrong contains -the element of the unusual and abnormal. If the -day shall ever come when papers will be able to “expose” -Right and regard Wrong as a foregone conclusion, they will -doubtless quickly reverse their treatment of the two. In -an Ali Baba’s cave it might be natural for a paper to discover -some man’s honesty; in a <em>yoshiwara</em> it might be -reasonable for it to expatiate on some woman’s virtue. -But while honesty and virtue and rightness are assumed -to be the normal condition of men and women and things -in general, it does not seem either extraordinary or culpable -that people and press should be more interested in -the polemical than in the platitudinous; in blame than in -painting the lily; in attack than in sending laudatory coals -to Newcastle. It scarcely needs remark, however, that -when the element of surprise is introduced by some deed -<span class='pageno' id='Page_70'>70</span>of exceptional heroism or abnegation or inspiration, the -newspapers are not slow in giving it publicity and praise.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mr. Mencken finds it deplorable that “a very definite -limit is set, not only upon the people’s capacity for grasping -intellectual concepts, but also upon their capacity for -grasping moral concepts”; that, therefore, it is necessary -“to visualize their cause in some definite and defiant opponent ... by translating all arguments for a principle -into rage against a man.” Far be it from me to deny that -people and papers are too prone to get diverted from the -pursuit of some principle by acrimonious personalities -wholly ungermane to that principle. But the protest -against this should not lead to unfair extremes in the opposite -direction. If Mr. Mencken’s ideal is a nation of -philosophers calmly agreeing on the abstract desirability -of honesty while serenely ignoring the specific picking of -their own pockets, we have no ground for argument. But -until we reach such a semi-imbecile Utopia, it would seem -to be no reflection on “the people’s” intellectual or moral -concepts that they should refuse to excite themselves over -any theoretical wrong until their attention is focused on -some practical manifestation of it, in the concrete acts of -some specific individual.</p> - -<p class='c010'>May I add, parenthetically, that some papers and many -acutely intellectual gentlemen find it far more convenient -and comfortable to generalize virtuously than to particularize -virtuously? Nor does it require merely moral or -physical courage to reduce the safely general to the disagreeably -personal. It requires no despicable amount of -intellectual acumen as well.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mr. Mencken next proceeds to “assume here, as an -axiom too obvious to be argued, that the chief appeal of a -newspaper in all such holy causes is not at all to the educated -and reflective minority of citizens, but to the ignorant -<span class='pageno' id='Page_71'>71</span>and unreflective majority.” On the contrary, it is -very far from being “too obvious to be argued.” A great -many persons of guaranteed education are sadly destitute -of any reflectiveness whatsoever, while an appalling number -of “the ignorant” have the effrontery to be able to -reflect very efficiently. This is apart from the fact that -the general intelligence among many of the ignorant is -matched only by the abysmal stupidity of many of the -educated.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Thus it is that the decent paper makes its appeal on -public questions to the numerically large body of reflective -“ignorance” and to the numerically small body of -reflective education, leaving it to the demagogic papers, -which are the exception at one end, to inflame the unreflective -ignorant, and to the sycophantic papers at the -other end to pander to the unreflective educated.</p> - -<p class='c010'>As to Mr. Mencken’s charge that he knows of “no subject, -save perhaps baseball, on which the average American -newspaper discourses with unfailing sense and understanding,” -I know of no subject at all, even including baseball, -on which the most exceptionally gifted man in the world -discourses with unfailing sense and understanding. But -I do know this: that, considering the immense range of -subjects which the American paper is called upon to discuss, -and its meagre limits of time in which to prepare for -such discussion, the failings of that paper in sense and -understanding are probably rarer than would be those -under the same conditions of Mr. Mencken’s most fastidious -selection.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But,” Mr. Mencken continues, “whenever the public -journals presume to illuminate such a matter as municipal -taxation, for example, or the extension of local transportation -facilities, or the punishment of public or private criminals, -or the control of public-service corporations, or the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_72'>72</span>revision of city charters, the chief effect of their effort is to -introduce into it a host of extraneous issues, most of them -wholly emotional, and so they continue to make it unintelligible -to all earnest seekers after truth.” Here again it -is all a matter of point of view. If Mr. Mencken’s earnest -seekers after truth wish to evolve ideological schemes of -municipal taxation, or supramundane extensions of transportation -facilities, or transcendental control of public-service -corporations, or academic revisions of city charters, -then, indeed, the newspaper discussions of these questions -would be bewildering to these visionary workers in the -realms of pure reason. For the newspapers “presume” to -regard these questions, not as theoretical problems, to be -solved under theoretical conditions, on theoretical populations, -to theoretical perfection, but as workable projects -for a workaday world, in which the most beautiful abstract -reasoning must stand the test of flesh-and-blood conditions; -they regard emotional issues as so far, indeed, from -being extraneous that the human nature of the humblest -men and women must be weighed in the balance against -the nicest syllogisms of the precisest logic. And this is -nothing that Mr. Mencken need condescend to apologize -for so long as “newspaper morals” are under discussion. -For it must be obvious that the honest exposition and -analysis of public questions from a human as well as a -scientific point of view is a higher moral service to the community -than an exclusively scientific, wholly unsympathetic -search after truth by those who regard populations -as mere subjects for the demonstration of principles.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It is precisely the honorable prerogative of newspapers -not only to clarify but to vivify, to galvanize dead hypotheses -into living questions, to make the educated and the -ignorant alike feel that public questions should interest -<span class='pageno' id='Page_73'>73</span>and stir all good citizens and not merely engross social -philosophers and political theorists.</p> - -<p class='c010'>But here let me avoid joining Mr. Mencken in the pitfall -of generalizations, by drawing a sharp distinction between -the great run of decent papers which do honestly -emotionalize public questions and the relatively few papers -which unscrupulously <em>hystericalize</em> these questions.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mr. Mencken is entirely correct when he admits that -this emotionalizing brings these problems down to a “man’s -comprehension, and, what is more important, within the -range of his active sympathies.” But he again shows a -very unfortunate class arrogance when he identifies this -man as “the man in the street.” If Mr. Mencken searched -earnestly enough after truth, he would find this man to be -about as extensively the man at the ticker, the man in the -motor-car, the man at the operating table, the man in the -pulpit. In the same vein he continues that the only papers -which discuss good government unemotionally “are diligently -avoided by the <em>mob</em>.” If Mr. Mencken only included -with his proletariat the mob of stockbrokers and -doctors and engineers and lawyers and college graduates -generally, who refuse to read these logical and unemotional -discussions, he would unfortunately be quite right. It -would be a beautiful thing indeed if we had with us to-day -one hundred millions of “earnest seekers after truth,” all -busily engaged in discussing “good government in the abstract,” -“logically and unemotionally.” If they were only -thus dispassionately busied, it is quite true that things -would not be as at present, when “they are always ready -for a man hunt and their favorite quarry is a man of politics. -If no such prey is at hand, they will turn to wealthy -debauchees, to fallen Sunday-school superintendents, to -money barons, to white-slave traders.” In those halcyon -times the one hundred million calm abstractionists would -<span class='pageno' id='Page_74'>74</span>discuss the influence of Beaumont and Fletcher on bosses, -or, failing this, the ultimate effect of wealth on eroticism, -the obscure relations between proselyting and decadence, -or the effect of the white-slave traffic on the gold reserve.</p> - -<p class='c010'>But in our present unregenerate epoch Mr. Mencken is -quite right in holding that it is generally the specific evils -of government or society which bring about reform waves, -which in turn crystallize themselves into general principles. -It is a shockingly practical process, I admit; but then, we -are a shockingly practical people, who prefer sordid results -to inspired theories. And at that we are not in such bad -company. For in no country in the world is there such a -thing as a “revealed” civilization. On the contrary, civilization -has always been for the most part purely empirical, -and progress will ever remain so.</p> - -<p class='c010'>There is, therefore, cause not for shame but for pride -when a newspaper reveals some specific iniquity, and by -not merely expounding its isolated character to the public -intelligence, but also by interpreting its general menace to -the public imagination and bringing home its inherent evil -to the public conscience, arouses that public to social legislation, -criminal prosecution, or political reform.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mr. Mencken next assaults once more his unfortunate -“man in the street” by declaring that “it is always as a -game, of course, that the man in the street views moral -endeavor.... His interest in it is almost always a sporting -interest.” On the contrary, here at last we have a case -where a class distinction can fairly be drawn. “The man -in the street” is a naïve man who takes his melodrama -seriously, who believes robustly in blacks and whites without -subtilizing them into intermediate shades, for whom -villains and heroes really exist. He is the last person on -earth to view the moral endeavor of a political or social -campaign as a game. It is the supercilious class, with its -<span class='pageno' id='Page_75'>75</span>sophistication and attendant cynicism, to whom such campaigns -tend to take on the aspect of sporting events and -games of skill.</p> - -<p class='c010'>But it is not necessary to go into the details of Mr. -Mencken’s theory as to the depraved nature of popular -participation in political reform. Its gist is contained in -his truly shocking statement that the war on the Tweed -ring and its extirpation was to the “plain people” nothing -but “sport royal”! Any one who can take one of the -most inspiring civic victories in the history, not alone of a -city, but of a nation, and degrade the spirit that brought -it about to the level of the cockpit or the bull ring, supplies -an argument that needs no reinforcing against his -prejudices on this whole subject.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mr. Mencken justly deplores the reactions which follow -upon reform successes, but unjustly concentrates the -blame on the fickleness of “the rabble.” This evil is not -a matter of mob-psychology but of unstable human nature, -high and low. These revulsions and reactions are the -shame, impartially, of all classes of our communities. They -permeate the educated atmosphere of fastidious clubs as -extensively as they do the ignorant miasma of vulgar -saloons. If they induce the “ignorant and unreflective” -plebeian to sit in his shirt-sleeves with his legs up, resting -his feet, on election day, instead of doing his duty at the -polls, do they not equally congest the golf links with “earnest -seekers after truth” busily engaged in sacrificing ballots -to Bogeys?</p> - -<p class='c010'>I wholly agree with Mr. Mencken’s strictures on the -public morality which holds it to be a relevant defense for -a ballot-box stuffer “that he is kind to his little children.” -The sentimentalism which so frequently perverts a proper -public conception of public morality is sickening. But -here again the indictment should be against average human -<span class='pageno' id='Page_76'>76</span>nature, educated or ignorant, and not against the “man in -the street” as a class and alone. To this man the fact that -the ballot-box stuffer is kind to his little children may -carry more weight than to the man of education and culture. -To the latter the fact that some monopoly-breeding, -law-defying, legislation-bribing, railroad-wrecking gentleman -is kind to his fellow citizens by donating to them picture -galleries and free libraries may carry more weight than -to the former. Is not the one just as much as the other -“ready to let feeling triumph over every idea of abstract -justice”?</p> - -<p class='c010'>Again, with Mr. Mencken’s prescription for making a -successful newspaper crusade there can be no quarrel, save -that here once more he suggests, by referring to the newspaper -as a “mob-master,” that these methods are exclusively -applicable to the same long-suffering “man in the -street.” These methods on which Mr. Mencken elaborates -are the rather obvious ones used by every lawyer, clergyman, -statesman, or publicist the world over who has a -forensic fight to make and win against some public evil—accusation, -iteration, cumulation, and climax. If these -methods are used by “mob-masters,” they are equally used -by snob-servants, and incidentally by the great mass of -honest newspapers which are neither the one thing nor the -other.</p> - -<p class='c010'>At the end of his article, having set up a man of straw -which he found it impossible to knock down, Mr. Mencken -patronizingly pats it on the back:—</p> - -<p class='c010'>“The newspaper must adapt its pleading to its client’s -moral limitations, just as the trial lawyer must adapt his -pleading to the jury’s limitations. Neither may like the -job, but both must face it to gain a larger end. And that -end is a worthy one in the newspaper’s case quite as often -as in the lawyer’s, and perhaps far oftener. The art of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_77'>77</span>leading the vulgar in itself does no discredit to its practitioner. -Lincoln practised it unashamed, and so did Webster, -Clay, and Henry.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Alas for this well-intentioned effort at amends! It is -impossible to agree with Mr. Mencken even here when he -praises press and public with such faint damnation.</p> - -<p class='c010'>A decent newspaper does not and must not adapt its -pleadings to its clients’ moral limitations. Intellectual -limitations? Yes. It is restricted by a line beyond which -intelligence and education alike would be at sea, and which -only specialists and experts would understand. But moral -limitations? No. The paper in this regard is less like the -lawyer and more like the judge. A judge can properly -adapt his charge in simplicity of form to the intellectual -limitations of the jury, but it will scarcely be contended -that he may adapt his charge in its substance to the moral -limitations of the jury. No more can any self-respecting -paper palter with what it believes to be the right and the -truth because of any moral limitations in its constituency. -Demagogic papers may do it. Class-catering papers may -do it. But the decent press which lies between does not -thus stultify itself.</p> - -<p class='c010'>And now to Mr. Mencken’s condescending conclusion:—</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Our most serious problems, it must be plain, have been -solved orgiastically and to the tune of deafening newspaper -urging and clamor.... But is the net result evil?... -I doubt it.... The way of ethical progress is not -straight.... But if we thus move onward and upward -by leaps and bounces, it is certainly better than not -moving at all. Each time, perhaps, we slip back, but each -time we stop at a higher level.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Why, then, sweepingly reflect on the morals of the press, -if by humanizing abstract principles, by emotionalizing -academic doctrines, by personifying general theories, it -<span class='pageno' id='Page_78'>78</span>has accomplished this progress? Granted that in the heat -of battle it fails to handle the cold conceptions of austere -philosophers with proper scientific etiquette. Granted -that it makes blunders in technical statements which to -the preciosity of specialists seem inexcusable. Granted -that it mixes its science and its sentiment in a manner to -shock the gentlemen of disembodied intellects. Granted -that the press has many more such intellectual peccadilloes -on its conscience.</p> - -<p class='c010'>But if the press does these things honestly, it does them -morally, and does not need to excuse them by their results, -even though these results are in very truth infinitely more -precious to humanity than could be those obtained by the -chill endeavors of what Mr. Mencken himself, with the -perfect accuracy of would-be irony, describes as “a Camorra -of Utopian and dehumanized reformers.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_79'>79</span> - <h2 class='c008'>THE SUPPRESSION OF IMPORTANT NEWS</h2> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c005'> - <div>BY EDWARD ALSWORTH ROSS</div> - </div> -</div> - -<h3 class='c012'>I</h3> - -<p class='c013'>Most of the criticism launched at our daily newspapers -hits the wrong party. Granted that they sensationalize -vice and crime, “play up” trivialities, exploit the private -affairs of prominent people, embroider facts, and offend good -taste with screech, blare, and color. All this may be only -the means of meeting the demand, of “giving the public -what it wants.” The newspaper cannot be expected to -remain dignified and serious now that it caters to the common -millions, instead of, as formerly, to the professional -and business classes. To interest errand-boy and factory-girl -and raw immigrant, it had to become spicy, amusing, -emotional, and chromatic. For these, blame, then, the -American people.</p> - -<p class='c010'>There is just one deadly, damning count against the -daily newspaper as it is coming to be, namely, <em>it does not -give the news</em>.</p> - -<p class='c010'>For all its pretensions, many a daily newspaper is not -“giving the public what it wants.” In spite of these widely -trumpeted prodigies of costly journalistic “enterprise,” -these ferreting reporters and hurrying correspondents, -these leased cables and special trains, news, good “live” -news, “red-hot stuff,” is deliberately being suppressed or -distorted. This occurs oftener now than formerly, and bids -fair to occur yet oftener in the future.</p> - -<p class='c010'>And this in spite of the fact that the aspiration of the -press has been upward. Venality has waned. Better and -better men have been drawn into journalism, and they -<span class='pageno' id='Page_80'>80</span>have wrought under more self-restraint. The time when -it could be said, as it was said of the Reverend Dr. Dodd, -that one had “descended so low as to become editor of a -newspaper,” seems as remote as the Ice Age. The editor -who uses his paper to air his prejudices, satisfy his grudges, -and serve his private ambitions, is going out. Sobered by -a growing realization of their social function, newspaper -men have come under a sense of responsibility. Not long -ago it seemed as if a professional spirit and a professional -ethics were about to inspire the newspaper world; and to -this end courses and schools of journalism were established, -with high hopes. The arrest of this promising movement -explains why nine out of ten newspaper men of fifteen -years’ experience are cynics.</p> - -<p class='c010'>As usual, no one is to blame. The apostasy of the daily -press is caused by three economic developments in the -field of newspaper publishing.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>II</h3> - -<p class='c013'>In the first place, the great city daily has become a -blanket sheet with elaborate presswork, printed in mammoth -editions that must be turned out in the least time. -The necessary plant is so costly, and the Associated Press -franchise is so expensive, that the daily newspaper in the -big city has become a capitalistic enterprise. To-day a -million dollars will not begin to outfit a metropolitan newspaper. -The editor is no longer the owner, for he has not, -and cannot command, the capital needed to start it or buy -it. The editor of the type of Greeley, Dana, Medill, Story, -Halstead, and Raymond, who owns his paper and makes -it his astral body, the projection of his character and ideals, -is rare. Perhaps Mr. Watterson and Mr. Nelson [the late -<span class='pageno' id='Page_81'>81</span>William R. Nelson of the <cite>Kansas City Star</cite>] are the best -recent representatives of the type.</p> - -<p class='c010'>More and more the owner of the big daily is a business -man who finds it hard to see why he should run his property -on different lines from the hotel proprietor, the vaudeville -manager, or the owner of an amusement park. The -editors are hired men, and they may put into the paper no -more of their conscience and ideals than comports with -getting the biggest return from the investment. Of course, -the old-time editor who owned his paper tried to make -money,—no sin that!—but just as to-day the author, -the lecturer, or the scholar tries to make money, namely, -within the limitations imposed by his principles and his -professional standards. But, now that the provider of the -newspaper capital hires the editor instead of the editor -hiring the newspaper capital, the paper is likelier to be run -as a money-maker pure and simple—a factory where ink -and brains are so applied to white paper as to turn out -the largest possible marketable product. The capitalist-owner -means no harm, but he is not bothered by the standards -that hamper the editor-owner. He follows a few simple -maxims that work out well enough in selling shoes or -cigars or sheet-music. “Give people what <em>they</em> want, not -what <i>you</i> want.” “Back nothing that will be unpopular.” -“Run the concern for all it is worth.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>This drifting of ultimate control into the hands of men -with business motives is what is known as “the commercialization -of the press.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The significance of it is apparent when you consider the -second economic development, namely, the growth of newspaper -advertising. The dissemination of news and the -purveying of publicity are two essentially distinct functions, -which, for the sake of convenience, are carried on by -the same agency. The one appeals to subscribers, the other -<span class='pageno' id='Page_82'>82</span>to advertisers. The one calls for good faith, the other does -not. The one is the corner-stone of liberty and democracy, -the other a convenience of commerce. Now, the purveying -of publicity is becoming the main concern of the newspaper, -and threatens to throw quite into the shade the -communication of news or opinions. Every year the sale -of advertising yields a larger proportion of the total receipts, -and the subscribers furnish a smaller proportion. -Thirty years ago, advertising yielded less than half of the -earnings of the daily newspapers. To-day, it yields at -least two thirds. In the larger dailies the receipts from -advertisers are several times the receipts from the readers, -in some cases constituting ninety per cent of the total -revenues. As the newspaper expands to eight, twelve, and -sixteen pages, while the price sinks to three cents, two -cents, one cent, the time comes when the advertisers support -the newspaper. The readers are there to <em>read</em>, not to -provide funds. “He who pays the piper calls the tune.” -When news columns and editorial page are a mere incident -in the profitable sale of mercantile publicity, it is strictly -“businesslike” to let the big advertisers censor both.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Of course, you must not let the cat out of the bag, or -you will lose readers, and thereupon advertising. As the -publicity expert, Deweese, frankly puts it, “The reader -must be flimflammed with the idea that the publisher is -really publishing the newspaper or magazine for him.” -The wise owner will “maintain the beautiful and impressive -bluff of running a journal to influence public opinion, -to purify politics, to elevate public morals, etc.” In the -last analysis, then, the smothering of facts in deference to -the advertiser finds a limit in the intelligence and alertness -of the reading public. Handled as “a commercial -proposition,” the newspaper dares not suppress such news -beyond a certain point, and it can always proudly point to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_83'>83</span>the unsuppressed news as proof of its independence and -public spirit.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The immunity enjoyed by the big advertiser becomes -more serious as more kinds of business resort to advertising. -Formerly, readers who understood why accidents and -labor troubles never occur in department stores, why -dramatic criticisms are so lenient, and the reviews of books -from the publishers who advertise are so good-natured, -could still expect from their journal an ungloved freedom -in dealing with gas, electric, railroad, and banking companies. -But now the gas people advertise, “Cook with -gas,” the electric people urge you to put your sewing-machine -on their current, and the railroads spill oceans of ink -to attract settlers or tourists. The banks and trust companies -are buyers of space, investment advertising has -sprung up like Jonah’s gourd, and telephone and traction -companies are being drawn into the vortex of competitive -publicity. Presently, in the news-columns of the sheet -that steers by the cash-register, every concern that has -favors to seek, duties to dodge, or regulations to evade, -will be able to press the soft pedal.</p> - -<p class='c010'>A third development is the subordination of newspapers -to other enterprises. After a newspaper becomes a piece -of paying property, detachable from the editor’s personality, -which may be bought and sold like a hotel or mill, it -may come into the hands of those who will hold it in bondage -to other and bigger investments. The magnate-owner -may find it to his advantage not to run it as a newspaper -pure and simple, but to make it—on the sly—an instrument -for coloring certain kinds of news, diffusing certain -misinformation, or fostering certain impressions or prejudices -in its clientele. In a word, he may shape its policy -by non-journalistic considerations. By making his paper -help his other schemes, or further his political or social -<span class='pageno' id='Page_84'>84</span>ambitions, he will hurt it as a money-maker, no doubt, but -he may contrive to fool enough of the people enough of the -time. Aside from such thraldom, newspapers are subject -to the tendency of diverse businesses to become tied together -by the cross-investments of their owners. But -naturally, when the shares of a newspaper lie in the safe-deposit -box cheek by jowl with gas, telephone, and pipeline -stock, a tenderness for these collateral interests is -likely to affect the news columns.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>III</h3> - -<p class='c013'>That in consequence of its commercialization, and its frequent -subjection to outside interests, the daily newspaper -is constantly suppressing important news, will appear from -the instances that follow. They are hardly a third of the -material that has come to the writer’s attention.</p> - -<p class='c010'>A prominent Philadelphia clothier visiting New York -was caught perverting boys, and cut his throat. His firm -being a heavy advertiser, not a single paper in his home -city mentioned the tragedy. One New York paper took -advantage of the situation by sending over an extra edition -containing the story. The firm in question has a large -branch in a Western city. There too the local press was -silent, and the opening was seized by a Chicago paper.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In this same Western city the vice-president of this firm -was indicted for bribing an alderman to secure the passage -of an ordinance authorizing the firm to bridge an alley -separating two of its buildings. Representatives of the -firm requested the newspapers in which it advertised to -ignore the trial. Accordingly the five English papers published -no account of the trial, which lasted a week and disclosed -highly sensational matter. Only the German papers -sent reporters to the trial and published the proceedings.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_85'>85</span>In a great jobbing centre, one of the most prominent -cases of the United States District Attorney was the prosecution -of certain firms for misbranding goods. The facts -brought out appeared in the press of the smaller centres, -but not a word was printed in the local papers. In another -centre, four firms were fined for selling potted cheese -which had been treated with preservatives. The local -newspapers stated the facts, but withheld the names of the -firms—a consideration they are not likely to show to the -ordinary culprit.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In a trial in a great city it was brought out by sworn -testimony that, during a recent labor struggle which involved -teamsters on the one hand and the department -stores and the mail-order houses on the other, the employers -had plotted to provoke the strikers to violence by sending -a long line of strike-breaking wagons out of their way -to pass a lot on which the strikers were meeting. These -wagons were the bait to a trap, for a strong force of policemen -was held in readiness in the vicinity, and the governor -of the state was at the telephone ready to call out the -militia if a riot broke out. Fortunately, the strikers restrained -themselves, and the trap was not sprung. It is -easy to imagine the headlines that would have been used -if labor had been found in so diabolical a plot. Yet the -newspapers unanimously refused to print this testimony.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In the same city, during a strike of the elevator men in -the large stores, the business agent of the elevator-starters’ -union was beaten to death, in an alley behind a certain -emporium, by a “strong-arm” man hired by that firm. -The story, supported by affidavits, was given by a responsible -lawyer to three newspaper men, each of whom accepted -it as true and promised to print it. The account -never appeared.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In another city the sales-girls in the big shops had to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_86'>86</span>sign an exceedingly mean and oppressive contract which, -if generally known, would have made the firms odious to -the public. A prominent social worker carried these contracts, -and evidence as to the bad conditions that had -become established under them, to every newspaper in the -city. Not one would print a line on the subject.</p> - -<p class='c010'>On the outbreak of a justifiable street-car strike the -newspapers were disposed to treat it in a sympathetic way. -Suddenly they veered, and became unanimously hostile to -the strikers. Inquiry showed that the big merchants had -threatened to withdraw their advertisements unless the -newspapers changed their attitude.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In the summer of 1908 disastrous fires raged in the -northern Lake country, and great areas of standing timber -were destroyed. A prominent organ of the lumber industry -belittled the losses and printed reassuring statements -from lumbermen who were at the very moment calling -upon the state for a fire patrol. When taxed with the -deceit, the organ pleaded its obligation to support the -market for the bonds which the lumber companies of the -Lake region had been advertising in its columns.</p> - -<p class='c010'>On account of agitating for teachers’ pensions, a teacher -was summarily dismissed by a corrupt school board, in violation -of their own published rule regarding tenure. An -influential newspaper published the facts of school-board -grafting brought out in the teacher’s suit for reinstatement -until, through his club affiliations, a big merchant was induced -to threaten the paper with the withdrawal of his -advertising. No further reports of the revelations appeared.</p> - -<p class='c010'>During labor disputes the facts are usually distorted to -the injury of labor. In one case, strikers held a meeting on -a vacant lot enclosed by a newly-erected billboard. Forthwith -appeared, in a yellow journal professing warm friendship -<span class='pageno' id='Page_87'>87</span>for labor, a front-page cut of the billboard and a lurid -story of how the strikers had built a “stockade,” behind -which they intended to bid defiance to the bluecoats. It -is not surprising that, when the van bringing these lying -sheets appeared in their quarter of the city, the libeled -men overturned it.</p> - -<p class='c010'>During the struggle of carriage-drivers for a six-day -week, certain great dailies lent themselves to a concerted -effort of the liverymen to win public sympathy by making -it appear that the strikers were interfering with funerals. -One paper falsely stated that a strong force of police was -being held in reserve in case of “riots,” and that policemen -would ride beside the non-union drivers of hearses. -Another, under the misleading headline, “Two Funerals -stopped by Striking Cabmen,” described harmless colloquies -between hearse-drivers and pickets. This was followed -up with a solemn editorial, “May a Man go to his -Long Rest in Peace?” although, as a matter of fact, the -strikers had no intention of interfering with funerals.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The lying headline is a favorite device for misleading the -reader. One sheet prints on its front page a huge “scare” -headline, “‘Hang Haywood and a Million Men will march -in Revenge,’ says Darrow.” The few readers whose glance -fell from the incendiary headline to the dispatch below it -found only the following: “Mr. Darrow, in closing the argument, -said that ‘if the jury hangs Bill Haywood, one -million willing hands will seize the banner of liberty by -the open grave, and bear it on to victory.’” In the same -style, a dispatch telling of the death of an English policeman, -from injuries received during a riot precipitated by -suffragettes attempting to enter a hall during a political -meeting, is headed, “Suffragettes kill Policeman!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The alacrity with which many dailies serve as mouthpieces -of the financial powers came out very clearly during -<span class='pageno' id='Page_88'>88</span>the recent industrial depression. The owner of one leading -newspaper called his reporters together and said in effect, -“Boys, the first of you who turns in a story of a lay-off or -a shut-down gets the sack.” Early in the depression the -newspapers teemed with glowing accounts of the resumption -of steel mills and the revival of business, all baseless. -After harvest time they began to cheep, “Prosperity,” -“Bumper Crops,” “Farmers buying Automobiles.” In -cities where banks and employers offered clearing-house -certificates instead of cash, the press usually printed fairy -tales of the enthusiasm with which these makeshifts were -taken by depositors and workingmen. The numbers and -sufferings of the unemployed were ruthlessly concealed -from the reading public. A mass meeting of men out of -work was represented as “anarchistic” or “instigated by -the socialists for political effect.” In one daily appeared -a dispatch under the heading “Five Thousand Jobs Offered; -only Ten apply.” It stated that the Commissioner -of Public Works of Detroit, misled by reports of dire distress, -set afoot a public work which called for five thousand -men. Only ten men applied for work, and all these expected -to be bosses. Correspondence with the official -established the fact that the number of jobs offered was -five hundred, and that three thousand men applied for -them!</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>IV</h3> - -<p class='c013'>On the desk of every editor and sub-editor of a newspaper -run by a capitalist promoter now [1910] under prison -sentence lay a list of sixteen corporations in which the -owner was interested. This was to remind them not to -print anything damaging to these concerns. In the office -these corporations were jocularly referred to as “sacred -cows.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_89'>89</span>Nearly every form of privilege is found in the herd of -“sacred cows” venerated by the daily press.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The railroad company is a “sacred cow.” At a hearing -before a state railroad commission, the attorney of a shippers’ -association got an eminent magnate into the witness -chair, with the intention of wringing from him the truth -regarding the political expenditures of his railroad. At -this point the commission, an abject creature of the railroads, -arbitrarily excluded the daring attorney from the -case. The memorable excoriation which that attorney -gave the commission to its face was made to appear in the -papers as the <em>cause</em> instead of the <em>consequence</em> of this exclusion. -Subsequently, when the attorney filed charges with -the governor against the commission, one editor wrote an -editorial stating the facts and criticising the commissioners. -The editorial was suppressed after it was in type.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The public-service company is a “sacred cow.” In a -city of the Southwest, last summer [1909], while houses -were burning from lack of water for the fire hose, a lumber -company offered to supply the firemen with water. The -water company replied that they had “sufficient.” Neither -this nor other damaging information concerning the company’s -conduct got into the columns of the local press. A -yellow journal conspicuous in the fight for cheaper gas -by its ferocious onslaughts on the “gas trust,” suddenly -ceased its attack. Soon it began to carry a full-page “Cook -with gas” advertisement. The cow had found the entrance -to the sacred fold.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Traction is a “sacred cow.” The truth about Cleveland’s -fight for the three-cent fare has been widely suppressed. -For instance, while Mayor Johnson was superintending -the removal of the tracks of a defunct street railway, -he was served with a court order enjoining him from -tearing up the rails. As the injunction was not indorsed, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_90'>90</span>as by law it should be, he thought it was an ordinary communication, -and put it in his pocket to examine later. The -next day he was summoned to show reason why he should -not be found in contempt of court. When the facts came -out, he was, of course, discharged. An examination of the -seven leading dailies of the country shows that a dispatch -was sent out from Cleveland stating that Mayor Johnson, -after acknowledging service, pocketed the injunction, and -ordered his men to proceed with their work. In the newspaper -offices this dispatch was then embroidered. One -paper said the mayor told his men to go ahead and ignore -the injunction. Another had the mayor intimating in advance -that he would not obey an order if one were issued. -A third invented a conversation in which the mayor and -his superintendent made merry over the injunction. Not -one of the seven journals reported the mayor’s complete -exoneration later.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The tax system is a “sacred cow.” During a banquet -of two hundred single-taxers, at the conclusion of their -state conference, a man fell in a fit. Reporters saw the -trifling incident, yet the morning papers, under big headlines, -“Many Poisoned at Single-Tax Banquet,” told in -detail how a large number of banqueters had been ptomaine-poisoned. -The conference had formulated a single-tax -amendment to the state constitution, which they intended -to present to the people for signature under the -new Initiative law. One paper gave a line and a half to -this most significant action. No other paper noticed it.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The party system is a “sacred cow.” When a county -district court declared that the Initiative and Referendum -amendment to the Oregon constitution was invalid, the -item was spread broadcast. But when later the Supreme -Court of Oregon reversed that decision, the fact was too -trivial to be put on the wires.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_91'>91</span>The “man higher up” is a “sacred cow.” In reporting -Prosecutor Heney’s argument in the Calhoun case, the -leading San Francisco paper omitted everything on the -guilt of Calhoun and made conspicuous certain statements -of Mr. Heney with reference to himself, with intent to make -it appear that his argument was but a vindication of himself, -and that he made no points against the accused. The -argument for the defense was printed in full, the “points” -being neatly displayed in large type at proper intervals. -At a crisis in this prosecution a Washington dispatch -quoted the chairman of the Appropriations Committee as -stating in the House that “Mr. Heney received during -1908 $23,000, for which he performed no service whatever -for the Government.” It was some hours before the report -was corrected by adding Mr. Tawney’s concluding words, -“during that year.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>In view of their suppression and misrepresentation of -vital truth, the big daily papers, broadly speaking, must -be counted as allies of those whom—as Editor Dana -reverently put it—“God has endowed with a genius for -saving, for getting rich, for bringing wealth together, for -accumulating and concentrating money.” In rallying to -the side of the people they are slower than the weeklies, -the magazines, the pulpit, the platform, the bar, the literati, -the intellectuals, the social settlements, and the universities.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Now and then, to be sure, in some betrayed and misgoverned -city, a man of force takes some little sheet, prints -all the news, ventilates the local situation, arouses the -community, builds up a huge circulation, and proves that -truth-telling still pays. But such exploits do not counteract -the economic developments which have brought on the -glacial epoch in journalism. Note what happens later to -such a newspaper. It is now a valuable property, and as -<span class='pageno' id='Page_92'>92</span>such it will be treated. The editor need not repeat the -bold strokes that won public confidence; he has only to -avoid anything that would forfeit it. Unconsciously he -becomes, perhaps, less a newspaper man, more a business -man. He may make investments which muzzle his paper -here, form social connections which silence it there. He -may tire of fighting and want to “cash in.” In any case, -when his newspaper falls into the hands of others, it will -be run as a business, and not as a crusade.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>V</h3> - -<p class='c013'>What can be done about the suppression of news? At -least, we can refrain from arraigning and preaching. To -urge the editor, under the thumb of the advertiser or of the -owner, to be more independent, is to invite him to remove -himself from his profession. As for the capitalist-owner, -to exhort him to run his newspaper in the interests of truth -and progress is about as reasonable as to exhort the mill-owner -to work his property for the public good instead of -for his private benefit.</p> - -<p class='c010'>What is needed is a broad new avenue to the public -mind. Already smothered facts are cutting little channels -for themselves. The immense vogue of the “muck-raking” -magazines is due to their being vehicles for suppressed -news. Non-partisan leaders are meeting with cheering -response when they found weeklies in order to reach their -natural following. The Socialist Party supports two dailies, -less to spread their ideas than to print what the capitalistic -dailies would stifle. Civic associations, municipal -voters’ leagues, and legislative voters’ leagues, are circulating -tons of leaflets and bulletins full of suppressed facts. -Within a year [1909–10] five cities have, with the tax-payers’ -money, started journals to acquaint the citizens -<span class='pageno' id='Page_93'>93</span>with municipal happenings and affairs. In many cities -have sprung up private non-partisan weeklies to report -civic information. Moreover, the spoken word is once -more a power. The demand for lecturers and speakers is -insatiable, and the platform bids fair to recover its old -prestige. The smotherers are dismayed by the growth of -the Chautauqua circuit. Congressional speeches give vent -to boycotted truth, and circulate widely under the franking -privilege. City clubs and Saturday lunch clubs are -formed to listen to facts and ideas tabooed by the daily -press. More is made of public hearings before committees -of councilmen or legislators.</p> - -<p class='c010'>When all is said, however, the defection of the daily press -has been a staggering blow to democracy.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Many insist that the public is able to recognize and pay -for the truth. “Trust the public” and <em>in the end</em> merit -will be rewarded. Time and again men have sunk money -in starting an honest and outspoken sheet, confident that -soon the public would rally to its support. But such hopes -are doomed to disappointment. The editor who turns -away bad advertising or defies his big patrons cannot lay -his copy on the subscriber’s doorstep for as little money as -the editor who purveys publicity for all it is worth; and -the masses will not pay three cents when another paper -that “looks just as good” can be had for a cent. In a -word, the art of simulating honesty and independence has -outrun the insight of the average reader.</p> - -<p class='c010'>To conclude that the people are not able to recognize -and pay for the truth about current happenings simply -puts the dissemination of news in a class with other momentous -social services. Because people fail to recognize -and pay for good books, endowed libraries stud the land. -Because they fail to recognize and pay for good instruction, -education is provided free or at part cost. Just as the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_94'>94</span>moment came when it was seen that private schools, loan -libraries, commercial parks, baths, gymnasia, athletic -grounds, and playgrounds would not answer, so the moment -is here for recognizing that the commercial news-medium -does not adequately meet the needs of democratic -citizenship.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Endowment is necessary, and, since we are not yet wise -enough to run a public-owned daily newspaper, the funds -must come from private sources. In view of the fact that -in fifteen years large donations aggregating more than a -thousand million of dollars have been made for public purposes -in this country, it is safe to predict that, if the usefulness -of a non-commercial newspaper be demonstrated, -funds will be forthcoming. In the cities, where the secret -control of the channels of publicity is easiest, there are -likely to be founded financially independent newspapers, -the gift of public-spirited men of wealth.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The ultimate control of such a foundation constitutes -a problem. A newspaper free to ignore the threats of big -advertisers or powerful interests, one not to be bought, -bullied, or bludgeoned, one that might at any moment -blurt out the damning truth about police protection to -vice, corporate tax-dodging, the grabbing of water frontage -by railroads, or the non-enforcement of the factory laws, -would be of such strategic importance in the struggle for -wealth that desperate efforts would be made to chloroform -it. If its governing board perpetuated itself by coöptation, -it would eventually be packed with “safe” men, who -would see to it that the newspaper was run in a “conservative” -spirit; for, in the long run, those who can watch for -an advantage <em>all</em> the time will beat the people, who can -watch only <em>some</em> of the time.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Chloroformed the endowed newspaper will be, unless it -<span class='pageno' id='Page_95'>95</span>be committed to the onward thought and conscience of the -community. This could be done by letting vacancies on -the governing board be filled in turn by the local bar association, -the medical association, the ministers’ union, the -degree-granting faculties, the federated teachers, the central -labor union, the chamber of commerce, the associated -charities, the public libraries, the non-partisan citizens’ -associations, the improvement leagues, and the social settlements. -In this way the endowment would rest ultimately -on the chief apexes of moral and intellectual worth -in the city.</p> - -<p class='c010'>While giving, with headline, cut, and cartoon, the interesting -news,—forgeries and accidents, society and sports, -as well as business and politics,—the endowed newspaper -would not dramatize crime, or gossip of private affairs; -above all, it would not “fake,” “doctor,” or sensationalize -the news. Too self-respecting to use keyhole tactics, and -too serious to chronicle the small beer of the wedding trousseau -or the divorce court, such a newspaper could not begin -to match the commercial press in circulation. But it would -reach those who reach the public through the weeklies and -monthlies, and would inform the teachers, preachers, lecturers, -and public men, who speak to the people eye to eye.</p> - -<p class='c010'>What is more, it would be a <em>corrective newspaper</em>, giving -a wholesome leverage for lifting up the commercial press. -The big papers would not dare be caught smothering or -“cooking” the news. The revelations of an independent -journal that everybody believed, would be a terror to them, -and, under the spur of a competitor not to be frightened, -bought up, or tired out, they would be compelled, in -sheer self-preservation, to tell the truth much oftener than -they do.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The Erie Canal handles less than a twentieth of the -traffic across the State of New York, yet, by its standing -<span class='pageno' id='Page_96'>96</span>offer of cheap transportation, it exerts a regulative pressure -on railway rates which is realized only when the canal -opens in the spring. On the same principle, the endowed -newspaper in a given city might print only a twentieth -of the daily press output, and yet exercise over the other -nineteen twentieths an influence great and salutary.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_97'>97</span> - <h2 class='c008'>THE PERSONAL EQUATION IN JOURNALISM</h2> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c005'> - <div>BY HENRY WATTERSON</div> - </div> -</div> - -<h3 class='c012'>I</h3> - -<p class='c013'>The daily newspaper, under modern conditions, embraces -two parts very nearly separate and distinct in their -requirements—the journalistic and the commercial.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The aptitude for producing a commodity is one thing, -and the aptitude for putting this commodity on the market -is quite another thing. The difference is not less marked -in newspaper-making than in other pursuits. The framing -and execution of contracts for advertising, for printing-paper -and ink, linotyping and press-work; the handling -of money and credits; the organization of the telegraphic -service and postal service; the supervision of machinery—in -short, the providing of the vehicle and the power that -turns its wheels—is the work of a single mind, and usually -it is engrossing work. It demands special talent and ceaseless -activity and attention all day long, and every day in -the year. Except it be sufficient, considerable success is -out of the question. Sometimes its sufficiency is able to -float an indifferent product. Without it the best product -is likely to languish.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The making of the newspaper, that is, the collating of -the news and its consistent and uniform distribution and -arrangement, the representation of the mood and tense -of the time, a certain continuity, more or less, of thought -and purpose,—the popularization of the commodity,—call -for energies and capacities of another sort. The editor -of the morning newspaper turns night into day. When -others sleep he must be awake and astir. His is the only -<span class='pageno' id='Page_98'>98</span>vocation where versatility is not a hindrance or a diversion; -where the conventional is not imposed upon his personality. -He should be many-sided, and he is often most engaging -when he seems least heedful of rule. Yet nowhere is ready -and sound discretion in greater or more constant need. -The editor must never lose his head. Sure, no less than -prompt, judgment is required at every turning. It is his -business to think for everybody. Each subordinate must -be so drilled and fitted to his place as to become in a sense -the replica of his chief. And, even then, when at noon -he goes carefully over the work of the night before, he will -be fortunate if he finds that all has gone as he planned -it, or could wish it.</p> - -<p class='c010'>I am assuming that the make-up of the newspaper is -an autocracy: the product of one man, the offspring of a -policy; the man indefatigable and conscientious, the policy -fixed, sober, and alert. In the famous sea-fight the riffraff -of sailors from all nations, whom Paul Jones had picked -up wherever he could find them, responded like the parts -of a machine to the will of their commander. They seemed -inspired, the British Captain Pearson testified before the -Court of Inquiry. So in a well-ordered newspaper office, -when at midnight wires are flashing and feet are hurrying, -and to the onlooking stranger chaos seems to reign, the -directing mind and hand have their firm grip upon the -tiller-ropes, which extend from the editorial room to the -composing-room, from the composing-room to the press-room, -and from the press-room to the breakfast-table.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>II</h3> - -<p class='c013'>Personal journalism had its origin in the crude requirements -of the primitive newspaper. An editor, a printer, -and a printer’s devil, were all-sufficient. For half a century -<span class='pageno' id='Page_99'>99</span>after the birth of the daily newspaper in America, one -man did everything which fell under the head of editorial -work. The army of reporters, telegraphers, and writers, -duly officered and classified, which has come to occupy -the larger field, was undreamed of by the pioneers of Boston, -New York, Philadelphia, and Baltimore.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Individual ownership was the rule. Little money was -embarked. Commonly it was “So-and-So’s paper.” Whilst -the stories of private war, of pistols and coffee, have been -exaggerated, the early editors were much beset; were held -to strict accountability for what appeared in their columns; -sometimes had to take their lives in their hands. In certain -regions the duello flourished—one might say became -the fashion. Up to the War of Secession, the instance of -an editor who had not had a personal encounter, indeed, -many encounters, was a rare one. Not a few editors acquired -celebrity as “crack shots,” gaining more reputation -by their guns than by their pens.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The familiar “Stop my paper” was personally addressed, -an ebullition of individual resentment.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Mr. Swain,” said an irate subscriber to the founder of -the <cite>Philadelphia Ledger</cite>, whom he met one morning on his -way to his place of business, “I have stopped your paper, -sir—I have stopped your paper.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mr. Swain was a gentleman of dignity and composure. -“Indeed,” said he, with a kindly intonation; “come with -me and let us see about it.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>When the two had reached the spot where the office of -the <cite>Ledger</cite> stood, nothing unusual appeared to have happened: -the building was still there, the force within apparently -engaged in its customary activities. Mr. Swain -looked leisurely about him, and turning upon his now -expectant but thoroughly puzzled fellow townsman, he -said,—</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_100'>100</span>“Everything seems to be as I left it last night. Stop -my paper, sir! How could you utter such a falsehood!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mr. James Gordon Bennett, the elder, was frequently -and brutally assailed. So was Mr. Greeley. Mr. Prentice, -though an expert in the use of weapons, did not escape -many attacks of murderous intent. Editors fought among -themselves, anon with fatal result, especially about Richmond -in Virginia, and Nashville in Tennessee, and New -Orleans. So self-respecting a gentleman, and withal so -peaceful a citizen, as Mr. William Cullen Bryant, fell upon -a rival journalist with a horsewhip on Broadway, in New -York. The prosy libel suit has come to take the place -of the tragic street duel,—the courts of law to settle what -was formerly submitted to the code of honor,—the star -part of “fighting editor” having come to be a relic of bygone -squalor and glory. The call to arms in 1861 found -few of the editorial bullies ready for the fray, and no one -of them made his mark as a soldier in battle. They were -good only on parade. Even the South had its fill of combat, -valor grew too common to be distinguished, and, out -of a very excess of broil and blood, along with multiplied -opportunities for the display of courage, gun-play got its -quietus. The good old times, when it was thought that -a man who had failed at all else could still keep a hotel -and edit a newspaper, have passed away. They are gone -forever. If a gentleman kills his man nowadays, even -in honest and fair fight, they call it murder. Editors have -actually to be educated to their work, and to work for their -living. The soul of Bombastes has departed, and journalism -is no longer irradiated and advertised by the flash of arms.</p> - -<p class='c010'>We are wont to hear of the superior integrity of those -days. There will always be in direct accountability a -certain sense of obligation lacking to the anonymous and -impersonal. Most men will think twice before they commit -<span class='pageno' id='Page_101'>101</span>their thoughts to print where their names are affixed. -Ambition and vanity, as well as discretion, play a restraining -part here; they play it, even though there be no provocation -to danger. Yet, seeing that somebody must be -somewhere back of the pen, the result would appear still -to be referable to private character.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Most of the personal journalists were in alliance with -the contemporary politicians; all of them were the slaves -of party. Many of them were without convictions, holding -to the measures of the time the relation held by the -play-actors to the parts that come to them on the stage. -Before the advent of the elder Bennett, independent journalism -was unknown. In the “partnership” of Seward, -Weed, and Greeley,—Mr. Greeley himself described it, -he being “the junior member,”—office, no less than public -printing, was the object of two members at least of the firm. -Lesser figures were squires instead of partners, their chiefs -as knights of old. Callender first served, then maligned, -Jefferson. Croswell was the man-at-arms of the Albany -Regency, valet to Mr. Van Buren. Forney played majordomo -to Mr. Buchanan until Buchanan, becoming President, -left his poor follower to hustle for himself; a signal, -but not anomalous, piece of ingratitude. Prentice held -himself to the orders of Clay. Even Raymond, set up in -business by the money of Seward’s friends, could call his -soul his own only toward the end of his life, and then by a -single but fatal misstep brought ruin upon the property -his genius had created.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Not, indeed, until the latter third of the last century -did independent journalism acquire considerable vogue, -with Samuel Bowles and Charles A. Dana to lead it in the -East, and Murat Halstead and Horace White, followed -by Joseph Medill, Victor F. Lawson, Melville E. Stone, -and William R. Nelson, in the West.</p> - -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_102'>102</span> - <h3 class='c014'>III</h3> -</div> - -<p class='c013'>The new school of journalism, sometimes called impersonal -and taking its lead from the counting-room, which -generally prevails, promises to become universal in spite -of an individualist here and there uniting salient characteristics -to controlling ownership—a union which in the -first place created the personal journalism of other days.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Here, however, the absence of personality is more apparent -than real. Control must be lodged somewhere. -Whether it be upstairs, or downstairs, it is bound to be—if -successful—both single-minded and arbitrary, the -embodiment of the inspiration and the will of one man; -the expression made to fit the changed conditions which -have impressed themselves upon the writing and the speaking -of our time.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Eloquence and fancy, oratory and rhetoric, have for -the most part given place in our public life to the language -of business. More and more do budgets usurp the field -of affairs. As fiction has exhausted the situations possible -to imaginative writing, so has popular declamation exhausted -the resources of figurative speech; and just as the -novel seeks other expedients for arousing and holding the -interest of its readers, do speakers and publicists, abandoning -the florid and artificial, aim at the simple and the -lucid, the terse and incisive, the argument the main point, -attained, as a rule, in the statement. To this end the -counting-room, with its close kinship to the actualities -of the world about it, has a definite advantage over the -editorial room, as a school of instruction. Nor is there -any reason why the head of the counting-room should not -be as highly qualified to direct the editorial policies as the -financial policies of the newspaper of which, as the agent -of a corporation or an estate, he has become the executive; -<span class='pageno' id='Page_103'>103</span>the newspaper thus conducted assuming something of -the character of the banking institution and the railway -company, being indeed in a sense a common carrier. At -least a greater show of stability and respectability, if not -a greater sense of responsibility, would be likely to follow -such an arrangement, since it would establish a more immediate -relation with the community than that embraced -by the system which seems to have passed away, a system -which was not nearly so accessible, and was, moreover, -hedged about by a certain mystery that attaches itself to -midnight, to the flare of the footlights and the smell of -printers’ ink.</p> - -<p class='c010'>I had written thus far and was about to pursue this line -of thought with some practical suggestion emanating from -a wealth of observation and reminiscence when, reading -the <cite>Atlantic Monthly</cite> for March, I encountered the following -passage from the very thoughtful paper of Mr. -Edward Alsworth Ross, entitled “The Suppression of -Important News”:—</p> - -<p class='c010'>“More and more the owner of the big daily is a business -man who finds it hard to see why he should run his property -on different lines from the hotel proprietor, the vaudeville -manager, or the owner of an amusement park. The editors -are hired men, and they may put into the paper no more -of their conscience and ideals than comports with getting -the biggest return from the investment. Of course, the -old-time editor who owned his paper tried to make money—no -sin, that!—but just as to-day the author, the lecturer, -or the scholar, tries to make money, namely, within -the limitations imposed by his principles and his professional -standards. But, now that the provider of the newspaper -capital hires the editor instead of the editor hiring -the newspaper capital, the paper is likelier to be run as a -money-maker pure and simple—a factory where ink and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_104'>104</span>brains are so applied to white paper as to turn out the -largest possible marketable product. The capitalist-owner -means no harm, but he is not bothered by the standards -that hamper the editor-owner. He follows a few simple -maxims that work out well enough in selling shoes or cigars -or sheet-music.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>There follow many examples of the “suppression” of -“news.” Some of these might be called “important.” -Others are less so. Here enters a question as to what is -“news” and what is not; a question which gives rise to -frequent and sometimes considerable differences of opinion.</p> - -<p class='c010'>If the newspaper manager is to make no distinction -between vaudeville and journalism, between the selling of -white paper disfigured by printer’s ink and the selling of -shoes, or sheet-music, comment would seem superfluous. -I venture to believe that such a manager would nowhere -be able long to hold his own against one of an ambition -and intelligence better suited to supplying the requirement -of the public demand for a vehicle of communication -between itself and the world at large. Now and then we -see a very well-composed newspaper fail of success because -of its editorial character and tone. Now and then -we see one succeed, having no editorial character and -tone. But the rule is otherwise. The leading dailies -everywhere stand for something. They are rarely without -aspiration. Because of the unequal capabilities of -those who conduct them, they have had their ups and -downs: great journals, like the <cite>Chicago Times</cite>, passing out -of existence through the lack of an adequate head; failing -journals, like the <cite>New York World</cite>, saved from shipwreck -by the timely arrival of an adequate head.</p> - -<p class='c010'>My own observation leads me to believe that more is -to be charged against the levity and indifference of the -average newspaper—perhaps I should say its ignorance -<span class='pageno' id='Page_105'>105</span>and indolence—than against the suppression of important -news. As a matter of fact, suppression does not suppress. -Conflicting interests attend to that. Mr. Ross relates that -on the desk of every editor and sub-editor of a newspaper -run by a certain capitalist, who was also a promoter, lay -a list of sixteen corporations in which the owner was interested. -This was to remind them not to print anything -damaging to those particular concerns. In the office the -exempted subjects were jocularly referred to as “sacred -cows.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>This case, familiar to all newspaper men, was an extreme -one. The newspaper proved a costly and ignominious -failure. Its owner, who ran it on the lines of an “amusement -park,” landed first in a bankruptcy and then in a -criminal court, finally to round up in the penitentiary. -Before him, and in the same city, a fellow “journalist” -had been given a state-prison sentence. In another and -adjacent city the editor and owner of a famous and influential -newspaper who had prostituted himself and his -calling escaped the stripes of a convict only through executive -clemency.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The disposition to publish everything, without regard -to private feeling or good neighborhood, may be carried -to an excess quite as hurtful to the community as the -suppressions of which Mr. Ross tells us in his interesting -résumé. The newspaper which constitutes itself judge and -jury, which condemns in advance of conviction, which, -reversing the English rule of law, assumes the accused -guilty instead of innocent,—the newspaper, in short, -which sets itself up as a public prosecutor,—is likely to -become a common scold and to arouse its readers out of -all proportion to any good achieved by publicity. As in -other affairs of life, the sense of decency imposes certain -reserves, and also the sense of charity.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_106'>106</span>The justest complaint which may be laid at the door of -the modern newspaper seems to me its invasion of the home, -and the conversion of its reporters into detectives. Pretending -to be the defender of liberty, it too often is the assailant -of private right. Each daily issue should indeed -aim to be the history of yesterday, but it should be clean -as well as truthful; and as we seek in our usual walks and -ways to avoid that which is nasty and ghastly, so should -we, in the narration of scandal and crime, guard equally -against exaggeration and pruriency, nor be ashamed to suppress -that which may be too vile to tell.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In a recent article Mr. Victor Rosewater, the accomplished -editor of the <cite>Omaha Bee</cite>, takes issue with Mr. Ross -upon the whole line of his argument, which he subjects -to the critical analysis of a practical journalist. The -muck-raking magazines, so extolled by Mr. Ross, are shown -by Mr. Rosewater to be the merest collection of already -printed newspaper material, the periodical writer having -time to put them together in more connected form. He -also shows that the Chautauqua circuits are but the emanations -of newspaper advertising; and that, if newspapers -of one party make suppressions in the interest of their -party, the newspapers of the other are ready with the -antidote. Obviously, Mr. Ross is either a newspaper subaltern, -or a college professor. In either case he is, as Mr. -Rosewater shows, a visionary.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In nothing does this betray itself so clearly as in the -suggestion of “an endowed newspaper,” which is Mr. -Ross’s remedy for the evils he enumerates.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Because newspapers, as a rule, prefer construction -to destruction,” says Mr. Rosewater, “they are accused -by Mr. Ross of malfeasance for selfish purposes. True, -a newspaper depends for its own prosperity upon the prosperity -of the community in which it is published. The -<span class='pageno' id='Page_107'>107</span>newspaper selfishly prefers business prosperity to business -adversity. A panic is largely psychological, and the newspapers -can do much to aggravate or to mitigate its severity. -There is no question that to the willful efforts of -the newspapers as a body to allay public fear and to restore -business confidence is to be credited the short duration -and comparative mildness of the last financial cataclysm. -Would an endowed newspaper have acted differently? -Most people would freely commend the newspapers for -what they did to start the wheels of industry again revolving, -and this is the first time I have seen them condemned -for suppressing ‘important news’ of business -calamity and industrial distress in subservience to a worship -of advertising revenue.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The truth of this can hardly be denied. Most fair-minded -observers will agree with Mr. Rosewater that “a -few black sheep in the newspaper fold do not make the -whole flock black, nor do the combined imperfections of -all newspapers condemn them to failure”; and I cannot -resist quoting entire the admirable conclusion with which -a recognized newspaper authority disposes of a thoroughly -theoretic newspaper critic.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Personally,” says Mr. Rosewater, “I would like to -see the experiment of an endowed newspaper tried, because -I am convinced comparison would only redound to -the advantage of the newspaper privately conducted as -a commercial undertaking. The newspaper most akin -to the endowed newspaper in this country is published -in the interest of the Christian Science Church. With it, -‘important news’ is news calculated to promote the propaganda -of the faith, and close inspection of its columns -would disclose news-suppression in every issue. On the -other hand, a daily newspaper, standing on its own bottom, -must have readers to make its advertising space -<span class='pageno' id='Page_108'>108</span>valuable, and without a reasonable effort to cover all the -news and command public confidence, the standing and -clientage of the paper cannot be successfully maintained. -The endowed paper pictured to us as the ideal paper, run -by a board of governors filled in turn by representatives -of the various uplift societies enumerated by Professor -Ross, would blow hot and would blow cold, would have -no consistent policy or principles, would be unable to alter -the prevailing notion of what constitutes important news, -and would be from the outset busily engaged in a work -of news-suppression to suit the whims of the particular -hobby-riders who happened for the moment to be in dominating -control.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>In journalism, as in statesmanship, the doctrinaire is -more confident than the man of affairs. So, in war, the -lieutenant is bolder in the thought than the captain in the -action. Often the newspaper subaltern, distrusting his -chief, calls that “mercenary” which is in reality “discrimination.” -It is a pity that there is not more of this -latter in our editorial practice.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>IV</h3> - -<p class='c013'>Disinterestedness, unselfish devotion to the public -interest, is the soul of true journalism as of true statesmanship; -and this is as likely to proceed from the counting-room -as from the editorial room; only, the business -manager must be a journalist.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The journalism of Paris is personal, the journalism of -London is impersonal—that is to say, the one illustrates -the self-exploiting, individualized star-system, the other -the more sedate and orderly, yet not less responsible, commercial -system; and it must be allowed that, in both dignity -and usefulness, the English is to be preferred to the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_109'>109</span>French journalism. It is true that English publishers -are sometimes elevated to the peerage. But this is nowise -worse than French and American editors becoming -candidates for office. In either case, the public and the -press are losers in the matter of the service rendered, because -journalism and office are so antipathetic that their -union must be destructive to both.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The upright man of business, circumspect in his everyday -behavior and jealous of his commercial honor, needs -only to be educated in the newspaper business to bring -to it the characteristic virtues which shine and prosper -in the more ambitious professional and business pursuits. -The successful man in the centres of activity is usually -a worldly-wise and prepossessing person. Other things -being equal, success of the higher order inclines to those -qualities of head and heart, of breeding and education and -association, which go to the making of what we call a -gentleman. The element of charm, scarcely less than the -elements of energy, integrity, and penetration, is a prime -ingredient. Add breadth and foresight, and we have -the greater result of fortune and fame.</p> - -<p class='c010'>All these essentials to preëminent manhood must be -fulfilled by the newspaper which aspires to preëminence. -And there is no reason why this may not spring from the -business end, why they may not exist and flourish there, -exhaling their perfume into every department; in short, -why they may not tempt ambition. The newspapers, as -Hamlet observes of the players, are the abstracts and -brief chronicles of the time. It were indeed better to -have a bad epitaph when you die than their ill report while -you live, even from those of the baser sort; how much -more from a press having the confidence and respect—and -yet more than these, the affection—of the community? -Hence it is that special college training is beginning -<span class='pageno' id='Page_110'>110</span>to be thought of, and occasionally tried; and, while this is -subject to very serious disadvantage on the experimental -side, its ethical value may in the long run find some way -to give it practical application and to make it permanent -as an arm of the newspaper service. Assuredly, character -is an asset, and nowhere does it pay surer and larger dividends -than in the newspaper business.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>V</h3> - -<p class='c013'>We are passing through a period of transition. The -old system of personal journalism having gone out, and -the new system of counting-room journalism having not -quite reached a full realization of itself, the editorial function -seems to have fallen into a lean and slippered state, -the matters of tone and style honored rather in the breach -than in the observance. Too many ill-trained, uneducated -lads have graduated out of the city editor’s room by sheer -force of audacity and enterprise into the more important -posts. Too often the counting-room takes no supervision -of the editorial room beyond the immediate selling value -of the paper the latter turns out. Things upstairs are left -at loose ends. There are examples of opportunities lost -through absentee landlordism.</p> - -<p class='c010'>These conditions, however, are ephemeral. They will -yield before the progressive requirements of a process -of popular evolution which is steadily lifting the masses -out of the slough of degeneracy and ignorance. The dime -novel has not the vogue it once had. Neither has the -party organ. Readers will not rest forever content under -the impositions of fake or colored news; of misleading -headlines; of false alarums and slovenly writing. Already -they begin to discriminate, and more and clearly they will -learn to discriminate, between the meretricious and the true.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_111'>111</span>The competition in sensationalism, to which we owe the -yellow press, as it is called, will become a competition in -cleanliness and accuracy. The counting-room, which is -next to the people and carries the purse, will see that decency -pays, that good sense and good faith are good investments, -and it will look closer to the personal character and -the moral product of the editorial room, requiring better -equipment and more elevated standards. There will never -again be a Greeley, or a Raymond, or a Dana, playing the -rôle of “star” and personally exploited by everything -appearing in journals which seemed to exist mainly to -glorify them. Each was in his way a man of superior -attainments. Each thought himself an unselfish servant -of the public. Yet each had his limitations—his ambitions -and prejudices, his likes and dislikes, intensified and -amplified by the habit of personalism, often unconscious. -And, this personal element eliminated, why may not the -impersonal head of the coming newspaper—proud of his -profession, and satisfied with the results of its ministration—render -a yet better account to God and the people -in unselfish devotion to the common interest?</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_112'>112</span> - <h2 class='c008'>THE PROBLEM OF THE ASSOCIATED PRESS</h2> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c005'> - <div>BY AN OBSERVER</div> - </div> -</div> - -<h3 class='c012'>I</h3> - -<p class='c013'>The question of suppressed or tainted news has in recent -years been repeatedly agitated, and reformers of all brands -have urged that the majority of the newspapers of the -country are business-tied—that they are ruled according -to the sordid ambition of the counting-house rather than -by the untrammeled play of the editorial intellect. Capitalism -is alleged to be playing ducks and drakes with the -Anglo-Saxon tradition of a free press.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The most important instance of criticism of this kind is -afforded by current attacks upon the Associated Press. -The Associated Press, as everybody knows, is the greatest -news-gathering organization in the world; it supplies with -their daily general information more than half the population -of the United States. That it should be accused, in -these times of class controversy and misunderstanding, of -being a “news trust,” and of coloring its news in the interest -of capital and reaction, is therefore an excessively grave -matter. Yet in the last six months it has been accused of -both those things. So persistent has been the assertion of -certain socialists that the Associated Press colors industrial -news in the interest of the employer, that its management -has sued them for libel. That it is a trust is the contention -of one of its rivals, the Sun News Bureau of New York, -whose prayer for its dissolution under the Sherman law, as -a monopoly in restraint of trade, is now before the Department -of Justice in Washington.<a id='r5' /><a href='#f5' class='c015'><sup>[5]</sup></a></p> - -<div class='footnote' id='f5'> -<p class='c010'><a href='#r5'>5</a>. This charge made by the <cite>New York Sun</cite>, in February, 1914, was not -sustained in an opinion given by the Attorney General of the United -States on March 17, 1915.—<span class='sc'>Ed.</span></p> -</div> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_113'>113</span>To the writer, the main questions at issue, so far as the -public is concerned, seem to be as follows:—</p> - -<p class='c010'>1. Is the business of collecting and distributing news in -bulk essentially monopolistic? 2. If it is, and if it can not -be satisfactorily performed by an unlimited number of -competitive agencies (that is, individual newspapers), is -the Associated Press in theory and practice the best type -of centralized organization for the purpose?</p> - -<p class='c010'>The first question presents little difficulty to the practical -journalist. A successful agency for the gathering of -news must be monopolistic. No newspaper is rich enough, -the attention of no editor is ubiquitous enough, to be able -to collect at first hand a tithe of the multitudinous items -which a public of catholic curiosity expects to find neatly -arranged on its breakfast table. Take the large journals -of New York and Boston, with their columns of news from -all parts of the United States and the world. Their bills -for telegrams and cablegrams alone would be prohibitive -of dividends, to say nothing of their bills for the collection -of the news. A public educated by a number of newspapers -with their powers of observation and instruction whetted -to superlative excellence by keen competition would no -doubt be ideal; but a journalistic Utopia of that kind is -no more feasible than other Utopias. Unlimited and unassisted -competition between, say, six newspapers in the -same city or district would be about as feasible economically -as unlimited competition between six railway lines running -from Boston to New York. The need for a common -service of foreign and national news must therefore be admitted. -To supply such a service, even in these days of -especially cheap telegraph and cable rates for press matter, -requires a great deal of money, and a press agency has -a great deal of money to spend only if it has also a large -number of customers.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_114'>114</span>As the number of newspapers is limited, it is clear that -the press agency has strong claims to be recognized as a -public service, and to be classed with railways, telephones, -telegraphs, waterworks, and many other forms of corporate -venture which even the wildest radical admits cannot be -subjected to the anarchy of unrestricted competition. -Thus the simple charge that the Associated Press is a -monopoly cannot be held to condemn it. But, to invert -Mr. Roosevelt’s famous phrase, there are bad trusts as -well as good trusts. That the Associated Press is powerful -enough to be a bad trust if those who control it so desire -must be admitted offhand. It is a tremendously effective -organization. Its service is supplied to more than 850 of -the leading newspapers, with a total circulation of, probably, -about 20,000,000 copies a day.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The Associated Press is the child of the first effort at -coöperative news-gathering ever made. Back in the forties -of the last century, before the Atlantic cable was laid, -newspapers began to spend ruinous sums in getting the -earliest news from Europe. Those were the days in which -the first ship-news dispatch-boats were launched to meet -vessels as they entered New York harbor, and to race back -with the news to their respective offices. The competition -grew to the extent even of sending fast boats all the way -to Europe, and soon became extravagant enough to cause -its collapse. Then seven New York newspapers organized -a joint service. This service, which was meant primarily to -cover European news, grew slowly to cover the United -States. Newspapers in other cities were taken into it on -a reciprocal basis. The news of the Association was supplied -at that time in return for a certain sum, the newspapers -undertaking on their part to act as the local correspondents -of the Association. A reciprocal arrangement -with Reuter’s, the great European agency, followed, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_115'>115</span>whereby it supplied the Associated Press with its foreign -service, and the Associated Press gave to Reuter’s the use -of its American service.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Even so, the Associated Press did not carry all before it. -In the seventies a number of Western newspapers formed -the Western Associated Press. A period of sharp competition -followed, but in 1882 the two associations signed a -treaty of partnership for ten years. They were not long -in supreme control of the field, however. The Associated -Press of those days, like its successor to-day, was a close -corporation in the sense that its members could and did -veto the inclusion of rivals. As the West grew, new newspapers -sprang up and were kept in the cold by their established -rivals. The result was the United Press, which soon -worked up an effective service. The Associated Press tried -to cripple it by a rule that no newspaper subscribing to its -service should have access to the news of the Associated -Press; but in spite of the rule the United Press waxed strong -and might have become a really formidable competitor had -not the Associated Press been able to buy a controlling -share in it. A harmonious business agreement followed; -but in accordance with the business methods of those days -the public was not apprized of the agreement, and when, -in 1892, its existence became known, there was a row -and a readjustment. The United Press absorbed the old -Associated Press of New York, and the Western Associated -Press again became independent. Reuter’s agency continued -to supply both associations with its European service.</p> - -<p class='c010'>But the ensuing period of competition did not last. -Three years later, the Western Associated Press achieved -a monopolistic agreement with Reuter’s, carried the war -into the United Press territory,—the South and the country -east of the Alleghanies,—got a number of New York -newspapers to join it, and effected a national organization.</p> - -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_116'>116</span> - <h3 class='c014'>II</h3> -</div> - -<p class='c013'>That national organization is, to all intents and purposes, -the Associated Press of to-day. The only really -important change has been in its transference as a company -from the jurisdiction of Illinois to that of New York. -This change was accomplished in 1900, owing to an adverse -judgment of the Supreme Court of Illinois. To grasp -the significance of that judgment, and indeed the current -agitation against the Associated Press, it is necessary to -sketch briefly its rules and methods.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The Associated Press is not a commercial company in -the sense that it is a dividend-hunting concern. Under the -terms of its present charter, the corporation “is not to make -a profit or to make or declare dividends and is not to engage -in the selling of intelligence or traffic in the same.” -It is simply meant to be the common agent of a number of -subscribing newspapers, for the interchange of news which -each collects in its own district, and for the collection of -news such as subscribers cannot collect singlehanded: that -is, foreign news and news concerning certain classes of -domestic happenings. Its board of directors consists of -journalists and publishers connected with subscribing newspapers, -who serve without payment. Its executive work -is done by a salaried general manager and his assistants. -It is financed on a basis of weekly assessments levied, according -to their size and custom, upon newspapers which -are members. The sum thus collected comes to about -$3,000,000 a year. It is spent partly for the hire of special -wires from the telegraph companies, and partly for the -maintenance of special news-collecting staffs. The mileage -of leased wires is immense, amounting to about 22,000 -miles by day and 28,000 miles by night. Nor does the -organization, as some of its critics seem to imagine, get any -<span class='pageno' id='Page_117'>117</span>special privileges from the telegraph companies. Such -privileges belonged to its early history, when business -standards were lower than they are now.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The Associated Press has at least one member in every -city of any size in the country. That in itself insures it a -good news-service; but, as indicated above, it has in all -important centres a bureau of its own. Important events, -whether fixed, like national conventions, or fortuitous, like -strikes or floods or shipwrecks, it covers more comprehensively -than any single newspaper can do. Its foreign -service is ubiquitous. It no longer depends upon its arrangement -with Reuter’s, and other foreign news-agencies: -early in the present century the intelligence thus collected -was found to lack the American point of view, and an -extensive foreign service was formed, with local headquarters -in London, Paris, and other European capitals, Peking, -Tokyo, Mexico, and Havana, and with scores of correspondents -all over the world.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Enough has been said to show that its efficiency and the -manner of its organization combine to give the Associated -Press a distinct savor of monopoly. As the Sun News -Bureau and other rivals have found, it cannot be effectively -competed against. Too many of the richest and most -powerful newspapers belong to it.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Is it a harmful monopoly? Its critics, as explained -above, are busy proving that it is. They urge that, being -a close corporation, it stifles trade in the selling of news, -and that it is not impartial.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The first argument is based upon the following facts. -Membership in the Associated Press is naturally valuable. -An Associated Press franchise to a newspaper in New York -or Chicago is worth from $50,000 to $200,000.<a id='r6' /><a href='#f6' class='c015'><sup>[6]</sup></a> To share -<span class='pageno' id='Page_118'>118</span>such a privilege is not in human or commercial nature. One -of the first rules of the organization is, therefore, that no -new newspaper can be admitted without the consent of -members within competitive radius. Naturally, that assent -is seldom given. This “power of protest” has not -been kept without a struggle. The law-suit of 1900 was -due to it. The <cite>Chicago Inter-Ocean</cite> was refused admission,<a id='r7' /><a href='#f7' class='c015'><sup>[7]</sup></a> -and went to law. The case went to the Supreme Court of -Illinois, which ruled that a press agency like the Associated -Press was in the nature of a public service and as such ought -to be open to everybody. To have yielded to the judgment -would have smashed the Associated Press, so it reorganized -under the laws of New York, with the moral satisfaction -of knowing that the courts of Missouri had upheld what -the Illinois court had condemned. Its new constitution, -which is that of to-day, keeps in effect the right of protest, -the only difference being that a disappointed applicant for -membership gets the not very useful consolation of being -able to appeal to the association in the slender hope that -four-fifths of the members will vote for his admission.</p> - -<div class='footnote' id='f6'> -<p class='c010'><a href='#r6'>6</a>. In the appraisal of the estate of Joseph Pulitzer in 1914, the two Associated -Press franchises held by the <cite>New York World</cite>, one for the morning -and one for the evening edition, were valued at $240,000 each.—<span class='sc'>Ed.</span></p> -</div> - -<div class='footnote' id='f7'> -<p class='c010'><a href='#r7'>7</a>. This is an error which is corrected in Mr. Stone’s reply, cf. p. <a href='#Page_124'>124</a>.</p> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>The practical working of the rule has undoubtedly been -monopolistic; not so much because it has rendered the -Associated Press a monopoly, but because it has rendered -it the mother, potential and sometimes actual, of countless -small monopolies. On account of the size of the United -States and the diverse interests of the various sections, -there is in our country no daily press with a national circulation. -Newspapers depend primarily upon their local -constituencies. In each journalistic geographic unit, if -the expression may be allowed, one or more newspapers -possess the Associated Press franchise. Such newspapers -have in the excellent and comparatively cheap Associated -Press service an instrument for monopoly hardly less valuable -<span class='pageno' id='Page_119'>119</span>than a rebate-giving railway may be to a commercial -corporation. It is also alleged by some of its enemies that -the Associated Press still at times enjoins its members -against taking simultaneously the service of its rival.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It is easy to argue that, because the Associated Press is -a close corporation, it cannot be a monopoly, and that those -who are really trying to make a “news trust” of it are -they who insist that it ought to be open to all comers; but -in practice the argument is a good deal of a quibble. The -facts remain that, as shown above, an effective news-agency -has to be tremendously rich; that to be tremendously rich -it has to have prosperous constituents; and that the large -majority of prosperous newspapers of the country belong -to the Associated Press. In the writer’s opinion it would -be virtually impossible, as things stand, for any of the -Associated Press’s rivals to become the Associated Press’s -equal, upon either a commercial or a coöperative basis.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>III</h3> - -<p class='c013'>The tremendous importance of the question of the fairness -of the Associated Press service is now apparent. If it -is deliberately tainted, as the socialists and radicals aver, -there is virtually no free press in the country. The question -is a very delicate one. Enemies of the Associated -Press assert in brief that its stories about industrial -troubles are colored in the interest of the employer; that its -political news shows a similar bias in favor of the plutocratic -party, whatever that may be; that, in fact, it is used -as a class organ. In the Presidential campaign of 1912, -Mr. Roosevelt’s followers insisted that the doings of their -candidates were blanketed. In the recent labor troubles -[1914] in West Virginia, Michigan, and Colorado, the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_120'>120</span>friends of labor have made the same complaint of one-sidedness -in the interest of the employer.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Not only do the directors of the Associated Press deny -all insinuations of unfairness, but they argue that partisanship, -and especially political partisanship, would be impossible -in view of the multitudinous shades of political opinion -represented by their constituents. They can also adduce -with justice the fact that in nearly every campaign more -than one political manager has accused them of favoritism, -only to retract when the heat of the campaign was over. -The charge of industrial and social partisanship they meet -with a point-blank denial. It is impossible in the space of -this paper to sift the evidence pro and con. Pending action -by the courts the only safe thing to do is to look at the -question in terms of tendencies rather than of facts.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The Associated Press, it has been shown, tends to be a -monopoly. Does it tend to be a one-sided monopoly? -The writer believes that it does. He believes that it may -fairly be said that the Associated Press as a corporation is -inclined to see things through conservative spectacles, and -that its correspondents, despite the very high average of -their fairness, tend to do the same thing. It could hardly -be otherwise, although it is possible that there is nothing -deliberate in the tendency. Nearly all the subscribers to -the Associated Press are the most respectable and successful -newspaper publishers in their neighborhoods. They -belong to that part of the community which has a stake in -the settled order of things; their managers are business men -among business men; they have relations with the local -magnates of finance and commerce: naturally, whatever -their political views may be (and the majority of the powerful -organs of the country are conservative), their aggregate -influence tends to be on the side of conservatism.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The tendency, too, is enhanced by the articles under -<span class='pageno' id='Page_121'>121</span>which the Associated Press is incorporated. There is -special provision against fault-finding on the part of members. -The corporation is given the right to expel a member -“for any conduct on his part or the part of any one in -his employ or connected with his newspaper, which in its -absolute discretion it shall deem of such a character as to -be prejudicial to the interest and welfare of the corporation -and its members, or to justify such expulsion. The -action of the members of the corporation in such regard -shall be final, and there shall be no right of appeal or review -of such action.” The Associated Press rightly prides itself -upon the standing of its correspondents. The majority of -them are drawn from the ranks of the matter-of-fact respectable. -In the nature of their calling, they are not likely -to be economists or theoretical politicians. In the case of -a strike, for instance, their instinct might well be to go to -the employer or the employer’s lieutenant for news rather -than to the strike-leader.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Whether the Associated Press is a monopoly within the -meaning of the anti-trust law, whether it actually colors -news as the socialists aver, must be left to the courts to -decide. The point to be noticed here is that it might color -news if it wanted to, and that it does exercise certain -monopolistic functions. That in itself is a dangerous state -of affairs: but it seems to be one that might be rectified. -The Illinois Supreme Court has pointed the way. The -news-agency is essentially monopolistic. It has much in -common with the ordinary public-utility monopoly. It -should therefore be treated like a public-utility corporation. -It should be subject to government regulation and -supervision, and its service should be open to all customers. -Were this done, the Associated Press would be altered but -not destroyed. Its useful features would surely remain -and its drawbacks as surely be lessened. The right of protest -<span class='pageno' id='Page_122'>122</span>would be entirely swept away; membership would be -unlimited; the threat of expulsion for fault-finding would -be automatically removed from above the heads of members; -all newspapers of all shades would be free to apply -the corrective of criticism; and if its news were none the -less unfair, some arrangement could presumably be made -for government restraint.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The Press Association of England is an unlimited coöperative -concern. Any newspaper can subscribe to it, and -new subscribers are welcome. Especially in the provincial -field, it is as powerful a factor in British journalism as the -Associated Press is in the journalism of the United States, -yet its very openness has saved it from the taint of partiality. -To organize the Associated Press on the same lines -would, of course, entail hardship to its present constituents. -They would be exposed to fierce local competition. -The value of their franchises would dwindle. Such rival -agencies as exist might be ruined, for they could hardly -compete with the Associated Press in the open market. -But it is difficult to see how American journalism would -suffer from a regulated monopoly of that kind; and the -public would certainly be benefited, for it would continue -to enjoy the excellent service of the Associated Press, with -its invaluable foreign telegrams and its comprehensive -domestic news; it would be safeguarded to no small extent -from the danger of local or national news-monopolies and -from insidiously tainted news.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Such a reform, if reform there has to be, would, in a -word, be constructive. The alternatives to it, as the writer -understands the situation, would be destructive and empirical. -The organization of the Associated Press would -either be cut to pieces or destroyed. There would thus be -a chaos of ineffective competition among either coöperative -or commercial press agencies. Equal competition -<span class='pageno' id='Page_123'>123</span>among a number of coöperative associations would, for -reasons already explained, mean comparatively ineffective -and weak services. Competition among commercial agencies -would have even less to recommend it. The latter -must by their nature be more susceptible to special influences -than the coöperative agency. They are controlled -by a few business men, not by their customers. Competing -commercial agencies would almost inevitably come to -represent competing influences in public life; while, if -worse came to worst, a commercialized “news trust” -would clearly be more dangerous than a coöperative news -trust. The great reactionary influences of business would -have freer play upon its directors than they can have upon -the directors of an organization like the Associated Press. -If it be decided that even the Associated Press is not immune -from such influences, the public should, the writer -believes, think twice before demanding its destruction, instead -of its alteration to conform with the modern conception -of the public-service corporation.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_124'>124</span> - <h2 class='c008'>THE ASSOCIATED PRESS: A REPLY</h2> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c005'> - <div>BY MELVILLE E. STONE</div> - <div class='c006'>[<em>A letter to the Editor of the Atlantic Monthly, dated August 1, 1914.</em>]</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>An article under the title, “The Problem of The Associated -Press,” appeared in the July issue of the Atlantic. -It was anonymous and may be without claim to regard. -It is marred by several mistakes of fact. Some of them are -inexcusable: the truth might so easily have been learned. -Nevertheless it is desirable that everybody should know -all about the Associated Press, whether it is an unlawful -and dangerous monopoly, or whether it is in the business -of circulating “tainted news.” Its telegrams are published -in full or in abbreviated form, in nearly 900 daily newspapers -having an aggregate circulation of many millions -of copies. Upon the accuracy of these news dispatches, -one half of the people of the United States depend for the -conduct of their various enterprises, as well as for the facts -upon which to base their opinions of the activities of the -world. With a self-governing nation, it is all important -that such an agency as the Associated Press furnish as -nearly as may be the truth. To mislead is an act of treason.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The writer’s history is at fault. For instance, the former -Associated Press never bought a controlling share of the -old-time United Press, as he alleges. Nor did the <cite>Chicago -Inter-Ocean</cite> go to law because it was refused admission. It -was a charter member; it admittedly violated a by-law, -discipline was administered and against this discipline the -law was invoked, and a decision adverse to the then existing -Associated Press resulted. The assertion that a “franchise -to a newspaper in New York or Chicago is worth -<span class='pageno' id='Page_125'>125</span>from $50,000 to $200,000,” will amuse thousands of people -who know that five morning Associated Press newspapers -of Chicago, the <cite>Chronicle</cite>, the <cite>Record</cite>, the <cite>Times</cite>, the <cite><span lang="de" xml:lang="de">Freie -Presse</span></cite>, and the <cite>Inter-Ocean</cite>, have ceased publication in the -somewhat recent past, and their owners have not received -a penny for their so-called “franchises.” The <cite>Boston -Traveler</cite> and <cite>Evening Journal</cite> were absorbed and their -memberships thrown away. The <cite>Christian Science Monitor</cite> -voluntarily gave up its membership and took another -service which it preferred. The <cite>Hartford Post</cite>, <cite>Bridgeport -Post</cite>, <cite>New Haven Union</cite>, and <cite>Schenectady Union</cite> did the -same. Cases where Associated Press papers have ceased -publication have not been infrequent. Witness the <cite>Worcester -Spy</cite>, <cite>St. Paul Globe</cite>, <cite>Minneapolis Times</cite>, <cite>Denver Republican</cite>, -<cite>San Francisco Call</cite>, <cite>New Orleans Picayune</cite>, <cite>Indianapolis -Sentinel</cite>, and <cite>Philadelphia Times</cite>, as well as -many others.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The statement that the Press Association of England is -an unlimited coöperative organization betrays incomplete -information. Instead, it is a share company with an issued -capital of £49,440 sterling. On this capital, in 1913, it made -£3,708. 9. 10, or nearly eight per cent. And it had in its -treasury at the end of that year a surplus of £23,281. 19. 6, -or a sum nearly equal to fifty per cent. of its capitalization. -It sells news to newspapers, clubs, hotels, and newsrooms. -It is not, as is the Associated Press, a clearing-house -for the exchange of news. It gathers all its information -by its own employees and sells it outright. Finally, -it does not serve all applicants, but declines, as it always -has, to furnish its news to the London papers.</p> - -<p class='c010'>But there is a more important matter. It is said that the -business of collecting and distributing news is essentially -monopolistic. But how can this be? The field is an open -one. A single reporter may enter it, and so may an association -<span class='pageno' id='Page_126'>126</span>of reporters. The business in any case may be confined -to the news of a city or it may be extended to include -a state, a nation, or the world. The material facilities for -the transmission of news, so far as they are of a public or -quasi-public nature, the mail or the telegraph, are open to -the use of all on the same terms. The subject-matter of -news, events of general interest, are not property and cannot -be appropriated. The element of property exists only -in the story of the event which the reporter makes and -the diligence which he uses to bring it to the place of publication. -This element of property is simply the right of -the reporter to the fruit of his own labor.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The “Recessional” was a report of the Queen’s Jubilee. -It was made by Rudyard Kipling and was his property for -that reason, to be disposed of by him as he thought proper. -He might have copyrighted it and reserved to himself the -exclusive right of publication during the period of the copyright. -He chose rather to use his common-law right of first -publication and he did this by selling it to the <cite>London -Times</cite>. He was not under obligation, moral or legal, to -sell it at the same time to any other publisher.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Every other reporter stands upon the same footing and, -as the author of his story, is, by every principle of law and -equity, entitled to a monopoly of his manuscript until he -voluntarily assigns it or surrenders it to the public. He -does not monopolize the news. He cannot do that, for -real news is as woman’s wit, of which Rosalind said, -“Make the doors upon [it] and it will out at the casement; -shut that and ’twill out at the keyhole; stop that, ’twill -fly with the smoke out at the chimney.” The reporter -as a mere laborer, engaged in personal service, is simply -free from compulsion to give or sell his labor to one seeking -it. Such is the state of the law to-day.</p> - -<p class='c010'>And the English courts go further and uniformly hold -<span class='pageno' id='Page_127'>127</span>that news telegrams may not be pirated, even after publication. -In a dozen British colonies statutory protection -of such despatches is given for varying periods. In this -country there have been a number of decisions looking -to the same end. The output of the Associated Press is -not the news; it is a story of the news, written by reporters -employed to serve the membership. The organization -issues no newspaper; it prints nothing. As a reporter, it -brings its copy to the editor, who is free to print it, abbreviate -it, or throw it away. And to this reporter’s work, -the reporter and the members employing him have, by -law and morals, undeniably an exclusive right.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The next question involves the integrity of the Associated -Press service. The cases of alleged bias he cites are -unfortunate. Any claim that the doings of the Progressives -in 1912 were “blanketed” by the Associated Press is -certainly unwarranted. Our records show that the organization -reported more than three times as many words concerning -the activities of the Progressives as it did concerning -those of all their opponents combined. There were reasons -for this. It was a new party in the field, and naturally -awakened unusual interest. But also, it should be said -that Colonel Roosevelt has expert knowledge of newspaper -methods. He understands the value of preparing his -speeches in advance and furnishing them in time to enable -the Associated Press to send them to its members by mail. -They are put in type in the newspaper offices leisurely and -the proofs are carefully read. When one of his speeches is -delivered, a word or two by telegraph “releases” it, and a -full and accurate publication of his views results. While -he was President he often gave us his messages a month in -advance; they were mailed to Europe and to the Far East, -and appeared in the papers abroad the morning after their -delivery to Congress. Before he went to Africa, the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_128'>128</span>speeches he delivered a year later at Oxford and in Paris -were prepared, put in type, proof-read, and laid away for -use when required. This is not an unusual or an unwise -practice. It assures a speaker wide publicity and saves -him the annoyance of faulty reporting. Neither Mr. -Wilson nor Mr. Taft was able to do this, although frequently -urged to do so. They spoke extemporaneously, -often late in the evening, and under conditions which made -it physically impossible to make a satisfactory report, or -to transmit it by wire broadcast over the country.</p> - -<p class='c010'>As to the West Virginia coal strike: a magazine charged -that the Associated Press had suppressed the facts and -that as a consequence no one knew there had been trouble. -The authors were indicted for libel. One witness only has -yet been heard. He was called by the defense, and in the -taking of his deposition it was disclosed that at the date -of the publication over 93,000 words had been delivered by -the Associated Press to the New York papers. Something -like 60 columns respecting the matter had been printed.</p> - -<p class='c010'>However, “The point to be noticed,” says your writer, -“is that it [the Associated Press] might color news if it -wanted to, and that it does exercise certain monopolistic -functions. That in itself is a dangerous state of affairs; -but it seems to be one that might be rectified.” And, as a -remedy, he proposes that “its service should be open to all -customers.” This is most interesting. If the news-service -is untrustworthy, it would naturally seem plain that the -activities of the agency should be restricted, not extended. -Instead of enlarging its field of operations, there should be, -if possible, a law forbidding it to take in any new members, -or, indeed, summarily putting it out of business. If the -Associated Press is corrupt, it is too large now, and no other -newspaper should be subjected to its baleful influence.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Your critic adds that then, “if its news were none the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_129'>129</span>less unfair, some arrangement could presumably be made -for government restraint.” Since the battle against government -control of the press was fought nearly two centuries -ago, it seems scarcely worth while to waste much -effort over this suggestion. Censorship by the king’s -agents was the finest flower of mediæval tyranny. It is -hard to believe that anyone, in this hour, should suggest -a return to it.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Under the closely censored method of this coöperative -organization, notwithstanding the wide range of its operations, -and although its service has included millions of -words every month, it is proper to say that there has never -been a trial for libel, nor have the expenses in connection -with libel suits exceeded a thousand dollars in the aggregate. -This should be accepted as some evidence of the -standard of accuracy maintained.</p> - -<p class='c010'>As to the refusal of the Associated Press to admit to -membership every applicant, the suggestion is made that -this puts such a limit on the number of newspapers as to -“stifle trade in the selling of news.” Thus, says your -critic, the Association is “the mother, potential and sometimes -actual, of countless small monopolies.” In reply, it -may be said that we are in no danger of a dearth of newspapers. -There are more news journals in the United States -than in all the world beside. If the whole foreign world -were divided into nations of the size of this country, each -nation would have but 80 daily newspapers, while we have -over 2,400. And as to circulation, we issue a copy of a -daily paper for every three of our citizens who can read -and are over ten years of age. With our methods of rapid -transportation, hundreds of daily papers might be discontinued, -and still leave every citizen able to have his -morning paper delivered at his breakfast table. Every -morning paper between New York and Chicago might be -<span class='pageno' id='Page_130'>130</span>suppressed, and yet, by the fast mail trains, papers from -the two terminal cities could be delivered so promptly that -no one in the intervening area would be left without the -current world’s news. Every angle of every fad, or <i>ism</i>, -outside the walls of Bedlam, finds an advocate with the -largest freedom of expression. Our need is not for more -papers, but for better papers—papers issuing truthful -news and with clearer sense of perspective as to news.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Entirely independent of the Associated Press, or any -influence it might have upon the situation, there has been -a noticeable shrinkage in the number of important newspapers -in the recent past. One reason has been the lack -of demand by the public for the old-time partisan journal. -Instead, the very proper requirement has been for papers -furnishing the news impartially, and communities therefore -no longer divide, as formerly, on political lines in their -choice of newspapers. The increased cost of white paper -and of labor has also had an effect.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Since there are some 500 or more daily newspapers getting -on very well without the advantage of the Associated -Press “franchises,” it can hardly be said that we have -reached a stage where this service is indispensable. This -is strikingly true in the light of the fact that in a number -of cities the papers making the largest profits are those -that have not, nor have ever had, membership in the Associated -Press.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It will be agreed at once that private right must ever -give way to public good. If it can be shown that, as contended, -the national welfare requires that those who, without -any advantage over their fellow editors, have built up -an efficient coöperative news-gathering agency, must share -the accumulated value of the good-will they have achieved, -with those who have been less energetic, we may have to -give heed to the claim. Such a contention, so persistently -<span class='pageno' id='Page_131'>131</span>urged as it has been, is certainly flattering to the membership -and management of the Associated Press.</p> - -<p class='c010'>But, however agreeable it always is to divide up other -people’s property, before settling the matter there are -some things to think of. First, it must be the public good -that forces this invasion of private right, not the desire -of someone who, with an itch to start a newspaper, feels -that he would prefer the Associated Press service. Second, -the practical effect of a rule such as was laid down by the -Illinois Supreme Court, requiring the organization to render -service to all applicants, must be carefully considered. -News is not a commodity of the nature of coal, or wood. -It is incorporeal. It does not pass from seller to buyer in -the way ordinary commodities do. Although the buyer -receives it, the seller does not cease to possess it. In order -to make a news-gathering agency possible, it has been -found necessary to limit, by stringent rules, the use of the -service by the member. Thus each member of the Associated -Press is prohibited from making any use of the -dispatches furnished him, other than to publish them in -his newspaper. If such a restriction were not imposed, -any member, on receipt of his news service, might at once -set up an agency of his own and put an end to the general -organization. This rule, as well as all disciplinary measures, -would disappear under the plan proposed by the critic in -the <cite>Atlantic</cite>. A buyer might be expelled, but to-morrow he -could demand readmission. There would in practice no -longer be members with a right of censorship over the -management; instead, there would be one seller and an -unlimited number of buyers. Then, indeed, there would -be a monopoly of the worst sort. And government censorship, -with all of its attendant and long since admitted -evils, would follow. Under a Republican administration, -we should have a Republican censor; under a Democratic -<span class='pageno' id='Page_132'>132</span>administration, a Democratic censor. And a free press -would no longer exist.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Absolute journalistic inerrancy is not possible. But we -are much nearer it to-day than ever before. And it is -toward approximate inerrancy in its despatches that the -Associated Press is striving. If in its method of organization, -or in its manner of administration, it is violating any -law, or is making for evil, then it should be punished, or -suppressed. If any better method for securing an honest, -impartial news service can be devised, by all means -let us have it. But that the plan proposed would better -the situation, is clearly open to doubt.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_133'>133</span> - <h2 class='c008'>CONFESSIONS OF A PROVINCIAL EDITOR</h2> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c005'> - <div>BY PARACELSUS</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>There is something at once deliciously humorous and -pathetic, to the editor of a small daily in the provinces, -about that old-fashioned phrase, “the liberty of the press.” -It is another one of those matters lying so near the marge-land -of what is mirthful and what is sad that a tilt of the -mood may slip it into either. To the general, doubtless, -it is a truth so obvious that it is never questioned, a bequest -from our forefathers that has paid no inheritance tax -to time. In all the host of things insidiously un-American -which have crept into our life, thank Heaven! say these -unconscious Pharisees, the “press,” if somewhat freakish, -has remained free. So it is served up as a toast at banquets, -garnished with florid rhetoric; it is still heard from -old-fashioned pulpits; it cannot die, even though the conditions -which made the phrase possible have passed away.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The pooh-poohing of the elders, the scoffing of the experienced, -has little effect upon a boy’s mind when it tries -to do away with so palpable a truth as that concerning -the inability of a chopped-up snake to die until sunset, or -that matter-of-fact verity that devil’s darning needles have -little aim in life save to sew up the ears of youths and -maidens. So with that glib old fantasy, “America’s free -and untrammeled press”: it needs a vast deal of argument -to convince an older public that, as a matter to be accepted -without a question, it has no right to exist. The conditioning -clause was tacked on some years ago, doubtless -when the old-time weekly began to expand into the modern -small daily. The weekly was a periodic pamphlet; the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_134'>134</span>daily disdained its inheritance, and subordinated the expression -of opinion to the printing of those matters from -which opinion is made. The cost of equipment of a daily -newspaper, compared to the old-fashioned weekly, as a -general thing makes necessary for the launching of such a -venture a well-organized stock company, and in this lies -much of the trouble.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Confessions imply previous wrong-doing. Mine, while -they are personal enough, are really more interesting because -of the vast number of others they incriminate. If -two editors from lesser cities do not laugh in each other’s -faces, after the example of Cicero’s augurs, it is because -they are more modern, and choose to laugh behind each -other’s backs. So, in turning state’s evidence, I feel less -a coward than a reformer.</p> - -<p class='c010'>What circumstance has led me to believe concerning the -newspaper situation in a hundred and one small cities of -this country is so startling in its unexplained brevity, -that I scarce dare parade it as a prelude to my confessions. -So much of my experience is predicated upon it that I do -not dare save it for a peroration. Here it is, then, somewhat -more than half-truth, somewhat less than the truth -itself: “A newspaper in a small city is not a legitimate -business enterprise.” That seems bold and bare enough -to stamp me as sensational, does it not? Hear, then, the -story of my <cite>Herald</cite>, knowing that it is the story of other -Heralds. The <cite>Herald’s</cite> story is mine, and my story, I -dare say, is that of many others. To the facts, then. -I speak with authority, being one of the scribes.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>I</h3> - -<p class='c013'>I chose newspaper work in my native city, Pittsburg, -mainly because I liked to write. I went into it after my -<span class='pageno' id='Page_135'>135</span>high-school days, spent a six months’ apprenticeship on a -well-known paper, left it for another, and in five years’ -hard work had risen from the reportorial ranks to that of -a subordinate editorial writer—a dubious rise. Hard -work had not threshed out ambition: the few grains left -sprouted. The death of an uncle and an unexpected legacy -fructified my desire. I became zealous to preach crusades; -to stamp my own individuality, my own ideals, upon the -“people”; in short, to own and run a newspaper. It was -a buxom fancy, a day-dream of many another like myself. -A rapid rise had obtained for me the summit of reasonable -expectation in the matter of salary; but I then thought, as -indeed I do still, that the sum in one’s envelope o’ Mondays -is no criterion of success. Personal ambition to “mould -opinion,” as the quaint untruth has it, as well as the commercial -side of owning a newspaper, made me look about -over a wide field, seeking a city which really needed a new -newspaper. The work was to be in a chosen field, and to -be one’s own taskmaster is worth more than salary. As -I prospected, I saw no possible end to the venture save -that of every expectation fulfilled.</p> - -<p class='c010'>I found a goodly town (of course I cannot name it) that -was neither all future nor all past; a growing place, believed -in by capitalists and real-estate men. It was well -railroaded, in the coal fields, near to waterways and to -glory. It was developing itself and being developed by -outside capital. It had a newspaper, a well-established -affair, whose old equipment I laughed at. It needed a new -one. My opening was found. The city would grow; I -would grow up with it. The promise of six years ago has -been in part fulfilled. I have no reason to regret my -choosing the city I did.</p> - -<p class='c010'>I went back to Pittsburg, consulted various of the great, -obtained letters to prominent men high in the political -<span class='pageno' id='Page_136'>136</span>faith I intended to follow, went back to my town armed -with the letters, and talked it over. They had been considering -the matter of a daily paper there to represent their -faith and themselves, and after much dickering a company -was formed. I found I could buy the weekly <cite>Herald</cite>, a -nice property whose “good will” was worth having. Its -owner was not over-anxious to sell, so drove a good bargain. -As a weekly the paper for forty-three years had been -gospel to many; I would make it daily gospel to more. In -giving $5,500 for it I knew I was paying well, but it had a -great name and a wide circulation.</p> - -<p class='c010'>I saw no necessity of beginning on a small scale. People -are not dazzled in this way. I wanted a press that folk -would come in and see run, and as my rival had no linotypes, -that was all the more reason why I should have two. -Expensive equipments are necessary for newspapers when -they intend to do great works and the public is eager to -see what is going to happen. All this took money, more -money than I had thought it would. But, talking the matter -over with my new friends and future associates, I convinced -them that any economy was false economy at the -start. But when I started I found that I owned but forty -per cent of the Herald Publishing Company’s stock. I -was too big with the future to care. The sixty per cent was -represented by various politicians. That was six years ago.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It does not do in America, much less in the <cite>Atlantic</cite>, to -be morosely pessimistic. At most one can be regretful. -And yet why should I be regretful? You have seen me -settle in my thriving city; see me now. I have my own -home, a place of honor in the community, the company of -the great. You see me married, with enough to live on, -enough to entertain with, enough to afford a bit of travel -now and then. I still “run” the <cite>Herald</cite>: it pays me my -own salary (my stockholders have never interfered with -<span class='pageno' id='Page_137'>137</span>the business management of the paper), and were I insistent, -I might have a consular position of importance, should -the particular set of politicians I uphold (my “gang,” as -my rival the <cite>Bulletin</cite> says) revert to power. There is food -in my larder, there are flowers in my garden. I carry -enough insurance to enable my small family to do without -me and laugh at starvation. I am but thirty-four years -old. In short, I have a competence in a goodly little city. -Why should I not rejoice with Stevenson that I have “some -rags of honor left,” and go about in middle age with my -head high? Who of my schoolmates has done better?</p> - -<p class='c010'>Is it nothing, then, to see hope dwindle and die away? -My regret is not pecuniary: it is old-fashionedly moral. -Where are those high ideals with which I set about this -business? I dare not look them in their waxen faces. I -have acquired immunity from starvation by selling underhandedly -what I had no right to sell. Some may think me -the better American. But P. T. Barnum’s dictum about -the innate love Americans have for a hoax is really a serious -matter, when the truth is told. Mr. Barnum did not leave -a name and a fortune because he befooled the public. If -now and then he gave them Cardiff giants and white elephants, -he also gave them a brave display in three crowded -rings. I have dealt almost exclusively with the Cardiff -giants.</p> - -<p class='c010'>My regret is, then, a moral one. I bought something -the nature of which did not dawn upon me until late; I -felt environment adapt me to it little by little. The process -was gradual, but I have not the excuse that it was unconscious. -There is the sting in the matter. I can scarcely -plead ignorance.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Somewhere in a scrapbook, even now beginning to yellow, -I have pasted, that it may not escape me (as if it -could!), my first editorial announcing to the good world my -<span class='pageno' id='Page_138'>138</span>intent with the <cite>Herald</cite>. Let me quote from the mocking, -double-leaded thing. I know the words. I know even -now the high hope which gave them birth. I know how -enchanting the vista was unfolding into the future. I can -see how stern my boyish face was, how warm my blood. -With a blare of trumpets I announced my mission. With a -mustering day of the good old stock phrases used on such -occasions I marshaled my metaphors. In making my bow, -gravely and earnestly, I said, among other things:—</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Without fear or favor, serving only the public, the -<cite>Herald</cite> will be at all times an intelligent medium of news -and opinions for an intelligent community. Bowing the -knee to no clique or faction, keeping in mind the great -imperishable standards of American manhood, the noble -traditions upon which the framework of our country is -grounded, the <cite>Herald</cite> will champion, not the weak, not -the strong, but the right. It will spare no expense in gathering -news, and it will give all the news all of the time. It -will so guide its course that only the higher interests of -the city are served, and will be absolutely fearless. Independent -in politics, it will freely criticise when occasion -demands. By its adherence to these principles may it -stand or fall.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>But why quote more? You have all read them, though -I doubt if you have read one more sincere. I felt myself -a force, the <cite>Herald</cite> the expression of a force; an entity, the -servant of other forces. My paper was to be all that other -papers were not. My imagination carried me to sublime -heights. This was six years ago.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>II</h3> - -<p class='c013'>Events put a check on my runaway ambition in forty-eight -hours. The head of the biggest clothing house, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_139'>139</span>the largest advertiser in the city, called on me. I received -him magnificently in my new office, motioning him to take -a chair. I can see him yet—stout, prosperous, and to -the point. As he talked, he toyed with a great seal that -hung from a huge hawser-like watch-chain.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Say,” said he, refusing my chair, “just keep out a little -item you may get hold of to-day.” His manner was the -same with me as with a salesman in his “gents’” underclothing -department.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Concerning?” I asked pleasantly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, there’s a friend of mine got arrested to-day. Some -farmer had him took in for fraud or something. He’ll make -good, I guess; I know, in fact. He ain’t a bad fellow, and -it would hurt him if this got printed.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>I asked him for particulars; saw a reporter who had the -story; learned that the man was a sharp-dealer with a -bad reputation, who had been detected in an attempt to -cheat a poor farmer out of $260—a bare-faced fraud -indeed. I learned that the man had long been suspected -by public opinion of semi-legal attempts to rob the “widow -and the orphan,” and that at last there was a chance -of “showing him up.” I went back with a bold face.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I find, though the case has not been tried, that the man -is undoubtedly guilty.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Guilty?” said my advertiser. “What of that? He’ll -settle.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“That hardly lessens the guilt.” I smiled.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The clothing man looked astounded. “But if you print -that he’ll be ruined,” he sputtered.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“From all I can learn, so much the better,” I answered.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then my man swore. “See here,” he said, when he got -back to written language. “He’s just making his living; -you ain’t got no right to stop a man’s earning his living. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_140'>140</span>It ain’t none of any newspaper’s business. Just a private -affair between him and the farmer, and he’ll settle.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I don’t see how,” I put in somewhat warmly, “it isn’t -the business of a newspaper to tell its public of a dangerous -man, arrested for fraud, caught in his own net so badly -that he is willing to settle, as you claim. It is my obvious -duty to my constituents to print such a case. From the -news point of view—” I was going on smoothly, but -he stepped up and shook his fist in my face.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Constituents? Ain’t I a constituent? Don’t I pay -your newspaper for more advertising than any one else? -Ain’t I your biggest constituent? Say, young man, you’re -too big for this town. Don’t try to bully me!” he suddenly -screamed. “Don’t you dare bully me! Don’t you dare -try it. I see what you want. You’re trying to blackmail -me, you are; you’re trying to work me for more advertising; -you want money out of me. That game don’t go; not -with me it don’t. I’ll have you arrested.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>And he talked as though he believed it!</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then he said he’d never pay me another cent, might all -manner of things happen to his soul if he did. He’d go to -the <cite>Bulletin</cite>, and double his space. The man was his friend, -and he had asked but a reasonable request, and I had tried -to blackmail him. He worked that blackmail in every -other sentence. Then he strode out, slamming the door.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The “little item” was not printed in the <cite>Herald</cite> (nor in -the <cite>Bulletin</cite>, more used to such requests), and, as he had -said, he was my biggest advertiser. It was my first experience -with the advertiser with a request: for this reason I -have given the incident fully. It recurred every week. I -grew to think little of it soon. “Think of how his children -will feel,” say the friends of some one temporarily lodged -in the police station. “Think of what the children of some -one this man will swindle next will say,” is what I might -<span class='pageno' id='Page_141'>141</span>answer. But I don’t,—not if an advertiser requests otherwise. -As I have grown to phrase the matter, a newspaper -is a contrivance which meets its pay-roll by selling space -to advertisers: render it therefore agreeable to those who -make its existence possible. Less jesuitically it may be -put—the ultimate editor of a small newspaper is the -advertiser, the biggest advertiser is the politician. This -is a maxim that experience has ground with its heel into -the fabric of my soul.</p> - -<p class='c010'>We all remember Emerson’s brilliantly un-New-England -advice, “Hitch your wagon to a star.” This saying is of no -value to newspapers, for they find stars poor motive power. -Theoretically, it must be granted that newspapers, of all -business ventures, should properly be hitched to a star. -Yet I have found that, if any hitching is to be done, it must -be to the successful politician. Amending Mr. Emerson, -I have found it the best rule to “yoke your newspaper to -the politician in power.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>This, then, is what a small newspaper does: sells its -space to the advertiser, its policy to the politician. It is -smooth sailing save when these two forces conflict, and -then Scylla and Charybdis were joys to the heart. Let -us look into the advertiser part of the business a bit more -closely.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The advertiser seeks the large circulation. The biggest -advertiser seeks the cheapest people. Thus is a small -newspaper (the shoe will pinch the feet of the great as well) -forced, in order to survive, to pander to the Most Low. -The man of culture does not buy $4.99 overcoats, the -woman of culture 27–cent slippers. The newspaper must -see that it reaches those who do. This is one of the saddest -matters in the whole business. The <cite>Herald</cite> started with a -circulation slightly over 2,000. I found that my town was -near enough to two big cities for the papers published there -<span class='pageno' id='Page_142'>142</span>to enter my field. I could not hope to rival their telegraphic -features, and I soon saw that, if the <cite>Herald</cite> was to -succeed, it must pay strict attention to local news. My -rival stole its telegraphic news bodily; I paid for a service. -The people seemed to care little for attempted assassinations -of the Shah, but they were intensely interested in -pinochle parties in the seventh ward. I gave them pinochle -parties. Still my circulation diminished. My rival -regained all that I had taken from him at the start. I -wondered why, and compared the papers. I “set” more -matter than he. The great difference was that my headlines -were smaller and my editorial page larger than his. -Besides, his tone was much lower: he printed rumor, made -news to deny it—did a thousand and one things that kept -his paper “breezy.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>I put in bigger headlines—outdid him, in fact. I almost -abolished my editorial page, making of it an attempt -to amuse, not to instruct. I printed every little personality, -every rumor that my staff could get hold of in their -tours. The result came slowly, but surely. Success came -when I exaggerated every little petty scandal, every row -in a church choir, every hint of a disturbance. I compromised -four libel suits, and ran my circulation up to 3,200 -in eleven months.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then I formed some more conclusions. I evolved a newspaper -law out of the matter and the experience of some -brothers in the craft in small cities near by. Briefly, I -stated it in this wise: The worse a paper is, the more influence -it has. To gain influence, be wholly bad.</p> - -<p class='c010'>This is no paradox, nor does it reflect particularly upon -the public. There is reason for it in plenty. Take the ably -edited paper, which glories in its editorial page, in the clean -exposition of an honest policy, in high ideas put in good -English, and you will find a paper which has a small -<span class='pageno' id='Page_143'>143</span>clientele in a provincial town; or, if it has readers, it will -have small influence. Say that it strikes the reader at -breakfast, and the person who has leisure to breakfast is -the person who has time for editorials, and the expression -of that paper’s opinion is carefully read. Should these -opinions square with the preconceived ideas of the reader, -the editorials are “great”; if not, they are “rotten.” In -other words, the man who reads carefully written editorials -is the man whose opinion is formed—the man of -culture, and therefore of prejudice. Doubtless he is as -well acquainted with conditions as the writer; perhaps better -acquainted. When a man does have opinions in a -small city, he is quite likely to have strong ones. A flitting -editorial is not the thing to change them. On the other -hand, the man who has little time to read editorials, or -perhaps little inclination, is just the man who might be -influenced by them if read. Hence well-written editorials -on a small daily are wasted thunder in great part, an uneconomic -expenditure of force.</p> - -<p class='c010'>When local politics are at fever-heat, a different aspect -of affairs is often seen: editorials are generally read, not so -much as expressions of opinion, but as party attack and -defense. During periods of political quiet the aim of most -editorial pages is to amuse or divert. The advertiser has -noted the decadence of the editorial page, and as a general -thing makes a violent protest if the crying of his wares is -made to emanate from this poor, despised portion of the -paper. An advertisement on a local page is worth much -more, and he pays more for the privilege.</p> - -<p class='c010'>So I learned another lesson. I shifted, as my successful -contemporaries have done, my centre of editorial gravity -from its former high position to my first and local pages. -I now editorialize by suggestion. News now carries its -own moral, the bias I wish it to show. This requires no -<span class='pageno' id='Page_144'>144</span>less skill than the writing of editorials, and, greatly as I -deplore it, I find the results pleasing. Does the <cite>Herald</cite> -wish to denounce a public official? Into a dozen articles -is the venom inserted. Slyly, subtly, and ofttimes openly -do news articles point the obvious moral. The “Acqua -Tofana” of journalism is ready to be used when occasion -demands, and this is very often. Innuendo is common, the -stiletto is inserted quietly and without warning, and tactics -a man would shun may be used by a newspaper with -little or no adverse comment. I mastered the philosophy -of the indirect. I gained my ends by carefully coloring my -news to the ends and policies of the paper. Nor am I -altogether to blame. My paper was supposed to have influence. -When I wrote careful and patient editorials, it -had none. I saw that the public mind must be enfiladed, -ambushed, and I adopted those primary American tactics -of Indian warfare: shot from behind tree trunks, spared not -the slain, and from the covert of a news item sent out -screeching savages upon the unsuspecting public. Editorial -warfare as conducted fifty years ago is obsolete; its -methods are as antiquated to-day as is the artillery of that -age.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>III</h3> - -<p class='c013'>I have called the <cite>Herald</cite> my own at different times in -this article. I conceived it, established it, built it up. It -stands to-day as the result of my work. True, my money -was not the only capital it required, but mine was the hand -that reared it. I found, to my great chagrin, that few -people in the city considered me other than a hired servant -of the political organization that aided in establishing the -<cite>Herald</cite>. It was an “organ,” a something which stood to -the world as the official utterance of this political set. -“Organs,” in newspaper parlance, properly have but one -<span class='pageno' id='Page_145'>145</span>function. Mine was evidently to explain or attack, as the -case might be. To the politicians who helped start the -<cite>Herald</cite> the paper was a political asset. It could on occasion -be a club or a lever, as the situation demanded. I had -been led to expect no personal intrusion. “Just keep -straight with the party” was all that was asked. But never -was constancy so unfaltering as that expected of the -<cite>Herald</cite>. It must not print this because it was true; it must -print that because it was untrue.</p> - -<p class='c010'>I had been six months in the city, when I overheard a -conversation in a street car. “Oh, I’ll fix the <cite>Herald</cite> all -right. I know Johnny X,” said one man. That was nice -of Johnny X’s friend, I thought. The <cite>Bulletin</cite> accused me -of not daring to print certain matters. I was ashamed, -humiliated. Between the friends of Johnny X and the -friends of others, I saw myself in my true light. Johnny -X, by the way, a noisy ward politician, owned just one -share in the <cite>Herald</cite>; but that gave his friends the right to -ask him to “fix” it, nevertheless.</p> - -<p class='c010'>I consulted with a wise man, a real leader, a man of experience -and a warm heart. He heard me and laughed, -patting me on the shoulder to humor me. “You want -that printing, don’t you?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c010'>I admitted that I did. I had counted on it.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Then,” said my adviser, “I wouldn’t offend Johnny -X, if I were you. He controls the supervisor in his ward.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>I began to see a great light, and I have needed no other -illumination since. This matter of public printing had -been promised me. I knew it was necessary. I saw that, -inasmuch as it was given out by the lowest politicians in -the town, I escaped easily if I paid as my price the indulgence -of the various Johnnies X who had “influence.” I -was the paid supernumerary of the party, yet had to bear -its mistakes and follies, its weak men and their weaker -<span class='pageno' id='Page_146'>146</span>friends, upon my poor editorial back. I realized it from -that moment; I should have seen it before. But for all -that, my cheeks burned for days, and my teeth set whenever -I faced the thought. I don’t mind it in the least now.</p> - -<p class='c010'>So at the end of a year and a half I saw a few more things. -I saw that by being a good boy and adaptable to “fixing” -I could earn thirty-five dollars a week with less work than -I could earn forty-five dollars in a big city. I saw that the -<cite>Herald</cite> as a business proposition was a failure; that is, it -was not, even under the most advantageous conditions, -the money-maker that I at first thought it to be. I saw -that if the city grew, and if there were no more rivals, if -there were a hundred advantageous conditions, it might -make several thousand dollars a year, besides paying me -a bigger salary. I was very much disheartened. Then -there came a turn.</p> - -<p class='c010'>I saw the business part of the proposition very clearly. -I must play in with my owners, the party; and in turn my -owners would support me nearly as well when they were -out of power as they could when ruling. Revenue came -from the city, the county, the state, all at “legal” rates. -I began to see why these “legal” rates were high, some -five times higher than those of ordinary advertising for -such a paper as the <cite>Herald</cite>. The state, when paying its -advertising bill, must pay the <cite>Herald</cite> five times the rate -any clothing advertiser could get. The reason is not difficult -to see. All over the state and country there are papers -just like the <cite>Herald</cite>, controlled by little cliques of politicians, -who, too miserly to support the necessary losses, -make the people pay for them. Any attempt to lower the -legal rate in any state legislature would call up innumerable -champions of the “press,” gentlemen all interested in their -newspapers at home. The people pay more than a cent -for their penny papers. It is the tax-payer who supports -<span class='pageno' id='Page_147'>147</span>a thousand and one unnecessary “organs.” The politicians -are wise, after all.</p> - -<p class='c010'>So I got my perspective. I was paid to play the political -game of others. I had to play it supported by indirect -bribes. As a straight business proposition,—that is, -without any state or city advertising, tax sales, printing -of the proceedings, and the like,—the <cite>Herald</cite> could not -live out a year. But by refusing to say many things, and -by saying many more, I could get such share of these -matters as would support the paper. In my second year, -near its close, I saw that I was really a property, a chattel, -a something bought and sold. I was being trafficked with -to my loss. My friends bought me with public printing, -and sold me for their own ends. I saw that they had the -best of the bargain.</p> - -<p class='c010'>I could do better without the middlemen. I determined -to make my own bargain with the devil for my own soul. -It was a brilliant thought, but a bitter one. I determined -to be a Sir John Hawkwood, and sell my editorial mercenaries -to the highest bidder. Only the weak are gregarious, -I thought with Nietzsche. If I could not put a name -upon my actions, at least I could put a price. I made a -loan, grabbed up some <cite>Herald</cite> stock cheaply, and owned -at last over fifty per cent of my own paper. Now, I -thought, I will at least make money.</p> - -<p class='c010'>I knew at just that time, that my own party, joined -with the enemy, was much interested in a contract the -city was about to make with a lighting company, a longterm -contract at an exorbitant price. No opposition was -expected. The city council had been “seen,” the reformers -silenced. I knew some of the particulars. I knew -that both parties were gaining at the public expense, to -their own profit and the tremendous profit of the gas company. -I, fearless in my new control, sent out a small -<span class='pageno' id='Page_148'>148</span>editorial feeler, a little suggestion about municipal ownership. -This time my editorial did have influence. No -mango tree of an Indian juggler blossomed quicker. I was -called upon one hour after the paper was out. What in -the name of all unnamable did I mean? I laughed. I -pointed out the new holdings of stock I had acquired. -What did the gentlemen mean? They didn’t know—not -then.</p> - -<p class='c010'>I had a very pleasant call from the gas company’s attorney -the next day. He was a most agreeable fellow, a -man of parts, assuredly. I, a conscious chattel, would now -appraise myself. I waited, letting the pleasantry flow by -in a gentle stream. By the way, suggested my new friend, -why didn’t I try for the printing of the gas company? -It was quite a matter. My friend was surprised that -the <cite>Herald</cite> had so complete a job-printing plant. The gas -company had all of its work done out of town, at a high -rate, he thought. He would use his influence, etc., etc. -Actually, I felt very important! All this to come out of -a little editorial on municipal ownership! The <cite>Herald</cite> didn’t -care for printing so very much, I said. But I would -think it over.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The next day I followed up my municipal ownership editorial. -It was my answer. I waited for theirs. I waited -in vain. I had overreached myself. This was humiliation -indeed, and it aroused every bit of ire and revenge in me. -I boldly launched out on a campaign against the dragon. -I would see if the “press” could be held so cheaply. I -printed statistics of the price of lighting in other cities. I -exposed the whole scheme. I stood for the people at last! -My early fire came back. We would see: the people and -the <cite>Herald</cite> against a throttling corporation and a gang of -corrupt aldermen.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then the other side got into the war. I went to the bank -<span class='pageno' id='Page_149'>149</span>to renew a note. I had renewed it a dozen times before. -But the bank had seen the Gorgon and turned to stone. -I digged deep and met the note. A big law firm which had -given me all its business began to seek out the <cite>Bulletin</cite>. -One or two advertisers dropped out. Some unseen hand -began to foment a strike. Were the banks, the bar, and, -worst of all, the labor unions, in the pay of a gas company? -It was exhilarating to be with “the people,” but exhilaration -does not meet pay-rolls. I may state that I am now -doing the gas company’s printing at a very fair rate.</p> - -<p class='c010'>I saw that the policy was a good one, nevertheless. I -also saw that it could not be carried to the extreme. So I -have become merely threatening. I have learned never -to overstep my bounds. I take my lean years and my fat -years, still a hireling, but having somewhat to say about -my market value. What provincial paper does not have -the same story to tell?</p> - -<p class='c010'>My public doesn’t care for good writing. It has no -regard for reason. During one political campaign I tried -reason. That is, I didn’t denounce the adversary. Admitting -he had some very good points, I showed why the -other man had better ones. The general impression was -that the <cite>Herald</cite> had “flopped,” just because I did not abuse -my party’s opponent, but tried to defeat him with logic! -A paper is always admired for its backbone, and backbone -is its refusal to see two sides to a question.</p> - -<p class='c010'>I have reached the “masses.” I tell people what they -knew beforehand, and thus flatter them. Aiming to instruct -them, I should offend. God is with the biggest circulations, -and we must have them, even if we appeal to -class prejudice now and then.</p> - -<p class='c010'>I can occasionally foster a good work, almost underhandedly, -it would seem. I take little pleasure in it. The -various churches, hospitals, the library, all expect to be -<span class='pageno' id='Page_150'>150</span>coddled indiscriminately and without returning any thanks -whatever. I formerly had as much railroad transportation -as I wished. I still have the magazines free of charge -and a seat in the theatre. These are my “perquisites.” -There is no particular future for me. The worst of it is -that I don’t seem to care. The gradual falling away from -the high estate of my first editorial is a matter for the -student of character, which I am not. In myself, as in -my paper, I see only results.</p> - -<p class='c009'>I think these confessions are ample enough and blunt -enough. When I left the high school, I would have wished -to word them in Stevensonian manner. That was some -time ago. We who run small dailies have little care for the -niceties of style. There are few of our clientele who know -the nice from the not-nice. In our smaller cities we “suicide” -and “jeopardize.” We are visited by “agriculturalists,” -and “none of us are” exempt from little iniquities -and uniquities of style and expression. We go right on: -“commence” where we should “begin,” use “balance” for -“remainder,” never think of putting the article before -“Hon.” and “Rev.,” and some of us abbreviate “assemblyman” -into “ass,” meaning nothing but condensation. -Events still “transpire” in our small cities, and inevitably -we “try experiments.” We have learned to write “trousers,” -and “gents” appears only in our advertisements. -In common with the very biggest and best papers we always -say “leniency.” That I do these things, the last coercion -of environment, is the saddest, to me, of all.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_151'>151</span> - <h2 class='c008'>THE COUNTRY EDITOR OF TO-DAY</h2> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c005'> - <div>BY CHARLES MOREAU HARGER</div> - </div> -</div> - -<h3 class='c012'>I</h3> - -<p class='c013'>Eulogies and laudatory paragraphs, alternating with -sneers, ridicule, and deprecations, long have been the lot -of the country editor. Pictured in the comic papers as an -egotistic clown, exalted by the politicians as a mighty -“moulder of public opinion,” occasionally chastised by -angry patrons, and sometimes remembered by delighted -subscribers, he has put his errors where they could be read -of all men and has modestly sought a fair credit for his -merits.</p> - -<p class='c010'>At times he has rebelled—not at treatment from his -constituency but at patronizing remarks of the city journalist -who sits at a mahogany desk and dictates able -articles for the eighteen-page daily, instead of writing local -items at a pine table in the office of a four-page weekly. -Thus did one voice his protest: “When you consider that -the country weekly is owned by its editor and that the -man who writes the funny things about country papers in -the city journals is owned by the corporation for which he -writes, it doesn’t seem so sad. When you see an item in -the city papers poking fun at the country editor for printing -news about John Jones’ new barn, you laugh and -laugh—for you know that on one of the pages of that -same city daily is a two-column story in regard to the -trimmings on the gowns of the Duchess of Wheelbarrow. -And it is all the more amusing because you know the duchess -does not even know of the existence of the aforesaid -city paper, while John Jones and many of his neighbors -<span class='pageno' id='Page_152'>152</span>take and pay for the paper which mentioned his new barn. -Don’t waste your pity on the country newspaper worker. -He will get along.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Little money is needed to start a country paper. There -are those who claim that it does not require any money,—that -it can be done on nerve alone,—and they produce -evidence to support the statement. True, some of the -editors who have the least money and the poorest plants -are most successful in their efforts to live up to the conception -developed by the professional humorist; but it is -not fair to judge the country editor by these—any more -than it would be fair to judge the workers on the great city -dailies by the publishers of back-street fake sheets that -exist merely to rob advertisers; or to judge the editors of -reputable magazines by the promoters of nauseous monthlies -whose stock in trade is a weird and sickening collection -of mail-order bargains and quack medicine advertisements.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The country editor of to-day is far removed from his -prototype of two or three decades ago. It would be strange -if an age that gives to the farmer his improved self-binder, -to the physician his X-ray machine, and to the merchant -his loose-leaf ledger, had done nothing for the town’s best -medium of publicity. The perfection of stereotype plate -manufacture by which a page of telegraph news may be -delivered ready for printing at a cost of approximately -twenty cents a column, and the elaboration of the “ready -print,” or “patent inside,” by which half the paper is -printed before delivery, yet at practically no expense over -the unprinted sheets, have been the two great labor-savers -for the country editor. Thereby he is relieved, if he desire, -of the tedious and expensive task of setting much type in -order to give the world’s general news, and the miscellaneous -matter that “fills up” the paper. His energies then -may be devoted to reporting the happenings of his locality -<span class='pageno' id='Page_153'>153</span>and to giving his opinions on public affairs. By his doing -of these, and by his relations toward the public interests, -is he to be judged.</p> - -<p class='c010'>After all, no one man in the community has so large an -opportunity to assist the town in advancement as the -editor. It is not because he is smarter than others, not -because he is wealthy—but because he is the spokesman -to the outside world.</p> - -<p class='c010'>He is eager to print all the news in his own paper. Does -he do it? Hardly. “This would be a very newsy paper,” -explained a frank country editor to his subscribers, “were -it not for the fact that each of the four men who work on -it has many friends. By the time all the items that might -injure some of their friends are omitted, very little is left.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I wish you would print a piece about our schoolteacher,” -said a farmer’s wife to me one afternoon. “Say -that she is the best teacher in the county.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But I can’t do that—two hundred other teachers -would be angry. You write the piece, sign it, and I’ll -print it.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What are you running a newspaper for if you can’t -please your subscribers?” she demanded—and canceled -her subscription.</p> - -<p class='c010'>So the country editor leaves out certain good things and -certain bad things for the very simple reason that the persons -most interested are close at hand and can find the -individual responsible for the statements. He becomes -wise in his generation and avoids chastisements and libel -suits. He finds that there is no lasting regard in a sneer, -no satisfaction in gratifying the impulse to say things that -bring tears to women’s eyes, nothing to gloat over in opening -a wound in a man’s heart. If he does not learn this -as he grows older in the service, he is a poor country editor.</p> - -<p class='c010'>His relations to his subscribers are intimate. There is -<span class='pageno' id='Page_154'>154</span>little mystery possible about the making of the paper; it is -as if he stood in the market-place and told his story. Of -course, the demands upon him are many and some of them -preposterous. Men with grafts seek to use the paper, -people with schemes ask free publicity. The country editor -is criticised for charging for certain items that no city -paper prints free. The churches and lodges want free -notices of entertainments by which they hope to make -money; semi-public entertainments prepared under the -management of a traveling promoter ask free advertising -“for the good of the cause.” Usually they get it, and when -the promoter passes on, the editor is found to be the only -one in town who received nothing for his labor.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It is characteristic of the country town to engage in -community quarrels. These absorb the attention of the -citizens, and feeling becomes bitter. The cause may be -trifling: the location of a schoolhouse, the building of a -bridge, the selection of a justice of the peace, or some -similar matter, is enough. To the newspaper office hurry -the partisans, asking for <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">ex parte</span></i> reports of the conditions. -One leader is, perhaps, a liberal advertiser; to offend him -means loss of business. Another is a personal friend; to -anger him means the loss of friendship. The editor of the -only paper in the town must be a diplomat if he is to guide -safely through the channel. In former times he tried to -please both sides and succeeded in making enemies of every -one interested. Now the well-equipped editor takes the -position that he is a business man like the others, that he -has rights as do they, and he states the facts as he sees -them, regardless of partisanship, letting the public do the -rest. If there be another paper in town, the problem is -easy, for the other faction also has an “organ.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Out of the public’s disagreement may come a newspaper -quarrel—though this is a much rarer thing than formerly. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_155'>155</span>The old-time country newspaper abuse of “our loathed but -esteemed contemporary” is passing away, it being understood -that such a quarrel, with personalities entangled in -the recriminations, is both undignified and ungentlemanly. -“But people will read it,” says the man who by gossip -encourages these attacks. So will people listen to a coarse -street controversy carried on in a loud and angry tone,—but -little is their respect for the principals engaged. Country -editors of the better class now treat other editors as -gentlemen, and the paper that stoops to personal attacks -is seldom found. Many a town has gone for years without -other than kindly mention in any paper of the editors of -the other papers, and in such towns you will generally find -peace and courtesy among the citizens.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Of course, there are politics and political arguments, but -few are the editors so lacking in the instincts of a gentleman -as to bring into these the opposing editor’s personal -and family affairs. It has come to be understood that such -action is a reflection on the one who does it, not on the -object of his attack. This is another way of saying that -more real gentlemen are running country newspapers to-day -than ever before. This broadening of character has -broadened influence. The country paper is effecting -greater things in legislation than the county conventions -are.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“The power of the country press in Washington surprises -me,” said a Middle West congressman last winter. -“During my two terms I have been impressed with it constantly. -I doubt if there is a single calm utterance in any -paper in the United States that does not carry some weight -in Washington among the members of Congress. You -might think that what some little country editor says does -not amount to anything, but it means a great deal more -than most people realize. When the country editor, who -<span class='pageno' id='Page_156'>156</span>is looking after nothing but the county printing, gives expression -to some rational idea about a national question, -the man off here in Congress knows that it comes from the -grass-roots. The lobby, the big railroad lawyers, and that -class of people, realize the power of the press, but they hate -it. I have heard them talk about it and shake their heads -and say, ‘Too much power there!’ The press is more powerful -than money.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>This was not said in flattery, but because he had seen -on congressmen’s desks the heaps of country weeklies, and -he knew how closely they were read. The smallest editorial -paragraph tells the politician of the condition in that -paper’s community, for he knows that it is put there because -the editor has gathered the idea from some one whom -he trusts as a leader—and the politician knows approximately -who that leader is. So the country editor often -exerts a power of which he knows little.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>II</h3> - -<p class='c013'>But politics is only a part of the country editor’s life. -The social affairs of the community are nearest to him. -The proud father who brings in a cigar with a notice of -the seventh baby’s arrival (why cigars and babies should -be associated in men’s minds I never understood), the fruit -farmer who presents some fine Ben Davis apples in the -expectation that he will get a notice, are but types. The -editor may have some doubts concerning the need of a -seventh child in the family of the proud father, and he -may not be particularly fond of Ben Davis apples; but he -gives generous notices because he knows that the gifts -were prompted by kind hearts and that the givers are his -friends.</p> - -<p class='c010'>When joy comes to the household, it is but the working -<span class='pageno' id='Page_157'>157</span>of the heart’s best impulses to desire that all should share -it. The news that the princess of the family has, after -many years of waiting, wedded a prosperous merchant of -the neighboring county, brings the family into prominence -in the home paper. Seldom in these busy times does the -editor get a piece of wedding-cake, but nevertheless he -fails not to say that the bride is “one of our loveliest young -ladies and the groom is worthy of the prize he has won.” -The city paper does not do that. Here and there a country -editor tries to put on city airs and give the bare facts of -“social functions,” without a personal touch to the lines. -But infrequently does he succeed in reaching the hearts of -his readers, and somehow he finds that his contemporary -across the street, badly printed, sprinkled with typographical -errors and halting in its grammar, but profuse in its -laudations, is getting an unusual number of new subscribers. -Even you, though you may pretend to be unmindful, -are not displeased when on the day after your -party you read that the guests “went home feeling that a -good time had been had.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The time has not yet come for the country paper to -assume city airs; nor is it likely to arrive for many years. -The reason is a psychological one. The city journal is the -paper of the masses; the country weekly or small daily is -the paper of the neighborhood. One is general and impersonal; -the other, direct and intimate. One is the market-place; -the other, the home. The distinction is not soon to -be wiped out.</p> - -<p class='c010'>And when sorrow comes! Into the home of a city friend -of mine death entered, taking the wife and mother. The -family had been prominent in social circles, and columns -were printed in the city papers, columns of cold, biographical -facts—born, married, died. But the news went back -to the small country town where in their early married life -<span class='pageno' id='Page_158'>158</span>the husband and wife had spent many happy years, and -in the little country weekly was quite another sort of story. -It told how much her friends loved her, how saddened they -were by her passing away, how sweet and womanly had -been her character. The husband did not send the city -papers to distant acquaintances; he sent copy after copy -of the little country weekly, the only place where, despite -his prominence in the world, appeared a sympathetic relation -of the loss that had come to him.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Week after week the country paper does this. From -issue after issue clippings are stowed away in bureau -drawers or pasted in family Bibles, because they picture -the loved one gone. It may not be a very high mission; -but no part of the country editor’s work has in it more -of satisfaction and recompense.</p> - -<p class='c010'>After the funeral comes the real test of the editor’s good-nature. -Long resolutions adopted by lodges and church -organizations are handed in for publication, each bristling -with the forms of ritual or creed, and each signed with the -names of the committee members upon whom devolved -the task of composition. A few country editors are brave -enough to demand payment at advertising rates for these -publications; generally they are printed without charge.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Nor is there a halt at this step in the proceeding. One -day a sad-faced farmer, with a heavy band of crape around -his battered soft hat, accompanied by a woman whose -heavy veil and black dress are sufficient insignia of woe, -comes to the office.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“We would like to put in a ‘card of thanks,’” begins -the man, “and we wish you would write it for us. We ain’t -very good at writing pieces, and you know how.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Does the editor tell them how bad is the taste that indulges -the stereotyped card of thanks? Does he haughtily -refuse to be a party to such violation of form’s canons? -<span class='pageno' id='Page_159'>159</span>Scarcely. He knows the formula by heart and “the kind -friends and neighbors who assisted us in our late bereavement” -comes to him as easily as the opening words of a -mayor’s proclamation.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Occasionally there is literary talent in the family, and -the “card” is prepared without the editor’s assistance. -Here is one verbatim as it came to the desk:—</p> - -<p class='c010'>“We extend our thanks to the good people who assisted -us in the sickness and death of our wife and daughter: The -doctor who was so faithful in attendance and effort to -bring her back to health, the pastor who visited and prayed -with her and us, the students who watched with us and -waited on her, the neighbors who did all they could in -helping care for her, the dormitory students, the faculty, -the literary societies and the A.O.U.W. who furnished such -beautiful flowers, we thank them all. Then the undertaker -who was so kind, the liveryman and other friends who -furnished carriages for us to go to the cemetery—yes, we -thank you all.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Doubtless he feels that he should do something toward -conserving the best taste in social usage, and that the “card -of thanks” should be ruthlessly frowned down; but he sees -also the other side. It is unquestionably prompted by a -spirit of sincere gratitude, and survives as a concession to -a supposed public opinion. Like other things that are -self-perpetuating, this continues—and the country editor -out of the goodness of his heart assists in its longevity. In -no path is the progress of the reformer so difficult as in that -of social custom; and this is as true on the village street as -on the city boulevard.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>III</h3> - -<p class='c013'>The past half-decade has brought to the country editor -a new problem and a new rival,—the rural delivery route. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_160'>160</span>Until this innovation came, few farmers took daily papers. -The country weekly, or the weekly from the city, furnished -the news.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Out in the Middle West the other morning, a dozen miles -from town, a farmer rode on a sulky plough turning over -brown furrows for the new crop. “I see by to-day’s Kansas -City papers,” he began, as a visitor came alongside, -“that there is trouble in Russia again.” “What do you -know about what is in to-day’s Kansas City papers?” -“Oh, we got them from the carrier an hour ago.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>It was not yet noon, but he was in touch with the world’s -news up to one o’clock that morning—and this twelve -miles from a railroad and two hundred miles west of the -Missouri River! In that county every farmhouse has rural -delivery of mail; and one carrier makes his round in an -automobile, covering the thirty miles in four hours or less.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The country editor has viewed with alarm this changing -condition. He has feared that he would be robbed of his -subscribers through the familiar excuse, “I’m takin’ more -papers than I can read.” But nothing of the kind has -happened. Although the rural carriers take each morning -great packages of daily papers, brought to the village by -the fast mail, the people along the routes are as eager as -ever for the weekly visit of the home paper. If by accident -one copy is missing from the carrier’s supply on Thursday, -great is the lamentation. It is doubtful if a single -country paper has been injured by the rural route; in -most instances the reading habit has been so stimulated -as to increase the patronage.</p> - -<p class='c010'>This it has done: it has impressed on the editor the necessity -of giving much attention to home news and less to -the happenings afar. This is, indeed, the province of the -country paper, since it is of the home and the family, not -of the market-place. This feature will grow, and the country -<span class='pageno' id='Page_161'>161</span>paper will become more a chronicle of home news and -less a purveyor of outside happenings, for soon practically -every farmer will have his daily paper with the regularity -of the sunrise. On the whole, instead of being an injury -this is helpful to the rural publisher; it relieves him of -responsibility for a broad field of information and allows -him to devote his energy to that news which gives the -greatest hold on readers,—the doings of the immediate -community. With this will come more generally the printing -of the entire paper at home and the decline of the -“patent inside,” now so common, which has served its purpose -well. If it exist, it will be in a modified form, devoted -chiefly to readable articles of a literary rather than of a -news value.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The city daily may give the telegraph news of the world -in quicker and better service, the mail-order house may -occasionally undersell the home merchant, the glory of the -city’s lights may dazzle; but, at the end of the week, home -and home institutions are best; so only one publication -gives the news we most wish to know,—the country -paper. The city business man throws away his financial -journal and his yellow “extra,” and tears open the pencil-addressed -home paper that brings to him memories of new-mown -hay and fallow fields and boyhood. Regardless of -its style, its grammar, or its politics, it holds its reader with -a grip that the city editor may well envy.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In these times the country editor is, like the publisher -of the city, a business man. Scores of offices of country -weeklies within two hundred miles of the Rockies (which -is about as far inland as we can get nowadays) have linotypes -or type-setting machines, run the presses with an -electric motor, and give the editor an income of three -thousand dollars or more a year for labor that allows many -a vacation day. The country editor gets a good deal out -<span class='pageno' id='Page_162'>162</span>of life. He lives well; he travels much; he meets the best -people of his state; and, if he be inclined, he can accomplish -much for his own improvement. Added to this is the -joy of rewarding the honorable, decent people of the town -with good words and helpful publicity, and the satisfaction -of seeing that the rascals get their dues,—and get -them they do if the editor lives and the rascals live, for in -the country town the editor’s turn always comes. It may -be long delayed, but it arrives. If he use his power with -honesty and intelligence, he can do much good for the -community.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In the opinion of some this danger threatens: the increased -rapidity of transportation, the multitude of fast -trains, and the facilities for placing the big city papers -within a zone of one hundred miles of the office of publication, -mean the large representation of particular localities, -or even the establishment of editions devoted to them. -The city paper tries to absorb the local patronage through -the competent correspondent who practically edits certain -columns or pages of the journal. In the thickly settled -East this is more successful than in the West, where distance -helps the local paper. But the zone is widening with -every improvement in transportation of mails, and soon -few sections of the country will be outside the possibilities -of some city paper’s enterprise in this direction.</p> - -<p class='c010'>When this happens, will the local weekly go out of existence -and its subscribers be attached to the big city paper -whose facilities for getting news and whose enterprise in -reaching the uttermost parts of the world far outstrip the -slow-going weekly’s best efforts? It is not likely. The -county-seat weekly to-day, with its energetic correspondent -in the town of Centreville, adds to its list in that section -because it gives the news fully and crisply; but it does -not drive out of business the Centreville <cite>Palladium</cite>, whose -<span class='pageno' id='Page_163'>163</span>editor has a personal acquaintance with every subscriber -and who caters to the home pride of the community. It is -probable that the <cite>Palladium</cite> will be more enterprising and -will devote more attention to the doings of the dwellers in -Centreville in order to keep abreast with the competition; -but it cannot be driven out, nor its editor forced from his -position by dearth of business. The life of a forceful paper -is long. One such paper was sold and its name changed -eighteen years ago; yet letters and subscriptions still are -addressed to the old publication. A hold like that on a -community’s life cannot be broken by competition.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>IV</h3> - -<p class='c013'>The evolution of the country weekly into the country -daily is becoming easier as telephone and telegraph become -cheaper, and transportation enables publishers to secure at -remote points a daily “plate” service that includes telegraph -news up to a few hours of the time of publication. -The publishing of an Associated Press daily, which twenty -years ago always attended a town’s boom and generally -resulted in the suspension of a bank or two and the financial -ruin of several families, has become simplified until it -is within reach of modest means.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Instead of the big city journals extending their sway to -crush out the country paper, it is more probable that the -country papers will take on some of the city’s airs, and -that, with the added touch of personal familiarity with the -people and their affairs, the country editor will become a -greater power than in the past. For it is recognized to-day -that the publication of a paper is a business affair and not -a matter of faith or revenge. If the publication be not a -financial success, it is not much of a success of any kind.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The old-time editor who prided himself on his powers of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_164'>164</span>vituperation, who thundered through double-leaded columns -his views on matters of world-importance and traded -space for groceries and dry goods, has few representatives -to-day. The wide-awake, clean-cut, well-dressed young -men, paying cash for their purchases and demanding cash -for advertising, alert to the business and political movements -that make for progress, and taking active part in -the interests of the town, precisely as though they were -merchants or mechanics, asking no favors because of their -occupation, are taking their places. This sort of country -editor is transforming the country paper and is making of -it a business enterprise in the best sense of the term,—something -it seldom was under the old régime.</p> - -<p class='c010'>This eulogy is one often quoted by the country press: -“Every year every local paper gives from five hundred to -five thousand lines for the benefit of the community in -which it is located. No other agency can or will do this. -The editor, in proportion to his means, does more for his -town than any other man. To-day editors do more work -for less pay than any men on earth.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Like other eulogies it has in it something of exaggeration. -It assumes the country editor to be a philanthropist -above his neighbors. The new type of country editor -makes no such claim. To be sure, he prints many good -things for the community’s benefit,—but he does it because -he is a part of the community. What helps the town -helps him. His neighbor, the miller, would do as much; -his other neighbor, the hardware man, is as loyal and in -his way works as hard for the town’s upbuilding. In other -words, the country editor of to-day assumes no particular -virtue because his capital is invested in printing-presses, -paper, and a few thousand pieces of metal called type. He -does realize that because of his avocation he is enabled to -do much for good government, for progress, and for the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_165'>165</span>betterment of his community. Unselfishly and freely he -does this. He starts movements that bring scoundrels to -terms, that place flowers where weeds grew before, that -banish sorrow and add to the world’s store of joy; but he -does not presume that because of this he deserves more -credit than his fellow business men. He is indeed fallen -from grace who makes a merit of doing what is decent and -honest and fair.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It is often remarked that the ambition of the country -editor is to secure a position on a city paper. I have had -many city newspapermen confide to me that their fondest -hope was to save enough money to buy a country weekly -in a thriving town. At first thought it would seem that -the city journalist would fail in the new field, having been -educated in a vastly different atmosphere and being unacquainted -with the conditions under which the country -editor must make friends and secure business. But two -of the most successful newspapers of my acquaintance are -edited by men who served their apprenticeship on city -dailies, and finally realized their heart’s desire and bought -country weeklies in prosperous communities. They are -not only making more money than ever before, but both -tell me that they have greater happiness than came in the -old days of rush, hurry, and excitement.</p> - -<p class='c010'>So long as a country paper can be issued without the -expenditure of more than a few hundred dollars, so long -as the man with ambition and money can satisfy his desire -to “edit,” the country paper will be fruitful of jocose -remarks by the city journalist. There will be columns of -odd reprint from the backwoods of Arkansas, and queer -combinations of grammar and egotism from the Egypt of -Illinois. The exchange editor will find in his rural mail -much food for humorous comment, but he will not find -characterizing the country editor a lack of independence, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_166'>166</span>or a lack of ability to look out for himself. The country -editor is doing very well, and the trend of his business -affairs is in the direction of better financial returns and -wider influence. He is a greater power now than ever -before in his history, and he will become more influential -as the years go by. He will not be controlled by a syndicate, -or modeled after a machine-made pattern, but will -exert his individuality wherever he may be.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The country editor of to-day is coming into his own. He -asks fewer favors and brings more into the store of common -good. He does not ask eulogies nor does he resent fair -criticisms; he is content to be judged by what he is and -what he has accomplished. As the leader of the hosts -must hold his place by the consent of his followers, so must -the town’s spokesman prove his worth. Closest to the -people, nearest to their home life, its hopes and its aspirations, -the country editor is at the foundation of journalism. -Here and there is a weak and inefficient example; but in -the main he measures up to as high a standard as does any -class of business men in the nation,—and it is as a business -man that he prefers to be classed.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_167'>167</span> - <h2 class='c008'>SENSATIONAL JOURNALISM AND THE LAW</h2> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c005'> - <div>BY GEORGE W. ALGER</div> - </div> -</div> - -<h3 class='c012'>I</h3> - -<p class='c013'>So much has been said in recent years concerning the -methods and policies of sensational journalism that a further -word upon a topic so hackneyed would seem almost -to require an explanation or an apology. Current criticism, -however, for the most part, has been confined to only one -of its many characteristics,—its bad taste and its vulgarizing -influence on its readers by daily offenses against the -actual, though as yet ideal, right of privacy, by its arrogant -boastfulness, mawkish sentimentality, and a persistent and -systematic distortion of values in events.</p> - -<p class='c010'>This, the most noticeable feature of yellow journalism, -is indicative rather of its character than of its purpose. In -considering, however, the present subject,—sensational -journalism in its relation to the making, enforcing, and -interpreting of law,—we enter a different field, that of -the conscious policies and objects with and for which these -papers are conducted. The main business of a newspaper -as defined by journalists of the old school is the collection -and publication of news of general interest coupled with -editorial comment upon it. The old-time editor was a -ruminative and critical observer of public events. This -definition of the functions of a newspaper was long ago -scornfully cast aside as absurdly antiquated and insufficient -to include the myriad circulation-making enterprises -of yellow journalism. These papers are not simply purveyors -of news and comment, but have what, for lack of a -better term, may be called constructive policies of their -<span class='pageno' id='Page_168'>168</span>own. In the making of law, for example, not content with -mere criticism of legislators and their measures, the new -journalism conceives and exploits measures of its own, -drafted by its own counsel, and introduced as legislative -bills by statesmen to whom flattering press notices and -the publication of an occasional blurred photograph are a -sufficient reward. Not infrequently measures thus conceived -and drafted are supported by specially prepared -“monster petitions,” containing thousands of names, badly -written and of doubtful authenticity, of supposed partisans, -and by special trains filled with orators and a heterogeneous -rabble described in the news columns as “committees -of citizens,” who at critical periods are collected -together and turned loose upon the assembled lawmakers -as an impressive object lesson of the public interest fervidly -aroused on behalf of the newspaper’s bill.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The ethics of persuasion is an interesting subject. It -falls, however, outside the scope of this article. It is impossible -to lay down any hard and fast rule by which to -determine in all cases what form of newspaper influence -is legitimate and what illegitimate. The most obvious -characteristic of yellow journalism in its relation to lawmaking -is that it prefers ordinarily to obtain its ends by -the use of intimidation rather than by persuasion. The -monster petition scheme just referred to is merely one -illustrative expression of this preference. When a newspaper -of this type is interested in having some official do -some particular thing in some particular way, it spends -little of its space or time in attempting to show the logical -propriety or necessity for the action it desires. It seeks -first and foremost to make the official see that <em>the eyes of -the people are on him</em>, and that any action by him contrary -to that which the newspaper assures him the people want -would be fraught with serious personal consequences. The -<span class='pageno' id='Page_169'>169</span>principal point with these papers is always “the people -demand” (in large capitals) this or that, and the logic or -reason of the demand is obscured or ignored. It is the -headless Demos transformed into printer’s ink. If by any -chance any official, so unfortunate as to have ideas of his -own as to how his office should be conducted, proves obdurate -to the demands of the printed voice of the people, -he becomes the target for newspaper attacks, calculated to -destroy any reputation he may previously have had for -intelligence, sobriety of judgment, or public efficiency, his -tormentor, so far as libel is concerned, keeping, however, -as Fabian says, “on the windy side of the law.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>An amusing illustration of this kind of warfare occurred -in New York some years ago, when for several weeks one -of these newspapers published daily attacks upon the -President of the Board of Police Commissioners, because -he refused to follow the newspaper theories of the proper -way of enforcing, or rather not enforcing, the Excise Law. -The newspaper took the position that, while the powers of -the Police Department were being largely turned to ferreting -out saloon-keepers who were keeping open after hours -or on Sundays, the detection of serious crimes was being -neglected, and that a “carnival of crime,” to use the picturesque -wording of its headlines, was being carried on in -the city. Finally, in one of its issues the paper published -a list of thirty distinct criminal offenses of the most serious -character,—murder, felonious assault, burglary, grand -larceny, and the like,—all alleged to have been committed -within a week, in none of which, it asserted, had any -criminal been captured or any stolen property recovered. -Events which followed immediately upon this last publication -showed that the newspaper had erred grievously in its -estimate of this particular official under attack. A few days -later the Police Commissioner, Mr. Roosevelt, published in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_170'>170</span>the columns of all the other newspapers in New York the -result of his own personal investigation of these thirty items -of criminal news, showing conclusively that twenty-eight -of them were canards pure and simple, and that in the -remaining two police activity had brought about results -of a most satisfactory kind. Following this statement of -the facts was appended an adaptation of some fifteen or -twenty lines from Macaulay’s merciless essay on Barrère,—perhaps -the finest philippic against a notorious and inveterate -liar which the English language affords,—so -worded that they should apply, not only to the newspaper -which published this spurious list of alleged crimes, but to -the editor and proprietor personally. The carnival of crime -ended at once.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It is, of course, impossible to determine accurately the -extent of newspaper influence upon legislation and the conduct -of public officials by these systematic attempts at -bullying. Making all due allowance, however, there have -been within recent years many significant illustrations of -the influence of yellow journalism upon the shaping of -public events. Mr. Creelman is quite right in saying, as -he does in his interesting book, <cite>On the Great Highway</cite>, that -the story of the Spanish war is incomplete which overlooks -the part that yellow journalism had in bringing it on. He -tells us that, some time prior to the commencement of hostilities, -a well-known artist, who had been sent to Cuba as -a representative of one of these papers and had there -grown tired of inaction, telegraphed his chief that there -was no prospect of war, and that he wished to come home. -The reply he received was characteristic of the journalism -he represented: “You furnish the pictures, we will furnish -the war.” It is characteristic because the new journalism -aims to direct rather than to influence, and seeks, to an -extent never attempted or conceived by the journalism it -<span class='pageno' id='Page_171'>171</span>endeavors so strenuously to supplant, to create public sentiment -rather than to mould it, to make measures and find -men.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The larger number of the readers of the great sensational -newspapers live at or near the place of publication, where -the half-dozen daily editions can be placed in their hands -hot from the press. The news furnished in them is, for -the most part, of distinctively local interest. In their -columns the horizon is narrow and inexpressibly dingy. -Detailed narrations of sensational local happenings, preferably -crimes and scandals, are given conspicuous places, -while more important events occurring outside the city -limits are treated with telegraphic brevity. These papers -constitute beyond question the greatest provincializing influence -in metropolitan life.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The particular local functions of sensational journalism -which bring it in close relation to the courts result from its -self-imposed responsibilities as detective and punisher of -crime and as director of municipal officials. So far as the -latter are concerned, yellow journalism has apparently a -good record. Many recent instances might, for example, -be cited where these newspapers, acting under the names -of “dummy” plaintiffs, have sought and obtained preliminary -or temporary injunctions against threatened official -malfeasance, or where they have instituted legal proceedings -to expose corrupt jobbery. As to the actual results -thus accomplished, other than the publicity obtained, -the general public is not in a position to judge. Temporary -injunctions granted merely until the merits of the -case can be heard and determined are of no particular -value if, when the trial day comes, the newspaper plaintiff -fails to appear, the case is dismissed, and the temporary -injunction vacated. On such occasions, and they are more -frequent than the general public is aware, the newspaper -<span class='pageno' id='Page_172'>172</span>takes little pains to inform its readers of the final results -of the matter over which it made such hue and cry months -before.</p> - -<p class='c010'>But, however fair-minded persons may differ as to the -results actually obtained by these newspaper law enterprises -in the civil courts, there is less room for difference -of opinion as to the methods with which they are conducted. -They are almost invariably so managed as to -convey to the minds of their readers the idea that the -decision obtained, if a favorable one, has not come as the -result of a just rule of law laid down by a wise and fair-minded -judge, but has been obtained rather in spite of both -law and judge, and wholly because a newspaper of enormous -circulation, championing the cause of the people, -has wrested the law to its clamorous authority. The attitude -of mind thus created is well exemplified in a remark -made to me by a business man of more than ordinary -intelligence, in discussing an injunction granted in one of -these newspaper suits arising out of a water scandal: -“Why, of course Judge ——— granted the injunction. -Everybody knew he would. There is not a judge on the -bench who would have the nerve to decide the other way -with all the row the newspapers have made about it. He -knows where his bread is buttered.”</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>II</h3> - -<p class='c013'>One of the great features of counting-house journalism -is its real or supposed ability in the detection and punishment -of crime. Whether this field is a legitimate one for -a newspaper to enter need not be discussed here. It goes -without saying that an interesting murder mystery sells -many papers, and if as a result of skillful detective work -the guilty party is finally brought to the gallows or the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_173'>173</span>electric chair, it is a triumph for the paper whose reporters -are the sleuths. While such efforts, when crowned with -success, are the source probably of much credit and revenue, -there are various disagreeable possibilities connected -with failure which the astute managers of these papers can -never afford to overlook. While verdicts in libel suits are -in this country generally small (compared with those in -England), and the libel law itself is filled with curious and -antiquated technicalities by which verdicts may be avoided -or reversed, nevertheless there is always the possibility that -an innocent victim of newspaper prosecution will turn the -tables and draw smart money from the enterprising journal’s -coffers. The acquittal of the person who has been -thrust into jeopardy by newspaper detectives is obviously -a serious matter for the paper. On the other hand, there -are no important consequences from conviction except, of -course, to the person condemned. Is it to be expected that -the newspaper, under such circumstances, will preserve a -disinterested and impartial tone in its news columns while -the man in the dock is fighting for his life before the judge -and jury? Is it remarkable that during the course of such -a trial the newspaper should fill its pages with ghastly cartoons -of the defendant, with murder drawn in every line -of his face, or that it should by its reports of the trial itself -seek to impress its readers with his guilt before it be proved -according to law? that it should send its reporters exploring -for new witnesses for the prosecution, and should publish -in advance of their appearance on the witness stand -the substance of the damaging testimony it is claimed they -will give? that it should go even further, and (as was recently -shown in the course of a great poisoning case in New -York City, the history of which forms a striking commentary -on all these abuses) actually pay large sums of money -<span class='pageno' id='Page_174'>174</span>to induce persons to make affidavits incriminating the -defendant on trial?</p> - -<p class='c010'>Unfortunately, too often these efforts receive aid from -prosecuting officers whose sense of public duty is impaired -or destroyed by the itch for reputation and a cheap and -tawdry type of forensic triumph. Despicable enough is -the district attorney who grants interviews to newspaper -reporters during the progress of a criminal trial, and -who makes daily statements to them of what he intends -to prove on the morrow unless prevented by the law as -expounded by the trial judge. A careful study of the -progress of more than one great criminal trial in New -York City would show how illegal and improper matter -prejudicial to the person accused of crime has been ruled -out by the trial court, only to have the precise information -spread about in thousands upon thousands of copies of -sensational newspapers, with a reasonable certainty of -their scare headlines, at least, being read by some of the -jury.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The pernicious influence of these journals upon the -courts of justice in criminal trials (and not merely in the -comparatively small number in which they are themselves -the instigators of the criminal proceedings) is that they -often make fair play an impossibility. The days and weeks -that are now not infrequently given to selecting jurors in -important criminal cases are spent in large measure by -counsel in examining talesmen in an endeavor to find, if -possible, twelve men in whose minds the accused has not -been already “tried by newspaper” and condemned or -acquitted. When the public feeling in a community is -such that it will be impossible for a party to an action to -obtain an unprejudiced jury, a change of venue is allowed -to some other county where the state of the public mind -is more judicial. It is a significant fact that nearly all -<span class='pageno' id='Page_175'>175</span>applications for such change in the place of trial from New -York City have been for many years based mainly upon -complaints of the inflammatory zeal of the sensational -press.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The courts in Massachusetts (where judges are not -elected by the people, but are appointed by the governor) -have been very prompt in dealing in a very wholesome and -summary way with editors of papers publishing matter -calculated to affect improperly the fairness of jury trials. -Whether it be from better principles or an inspiring fear of -jail, the courts of public justice in that state receive little -interference from unwarranted newspaper stories. Some -of the cases in which summary punishment has been meted -out from the bench to Massachusetts editors will impress -New York readers rather curiously. For example, just -before the trial of a case involving the amount of compensation -the owner of land should receive for his land taken -for a public purpose, a newspaper in Worcester informed -its readers that “the town offered Loring [the plaintiff] -$80 at the time of the taking, but he demanded $250, and -not getting it, went to law.” Another paper published -substantially the same statement, and both were summarily -punished by fine, the court holding that these -articles were calculated to obstruct the course of justice, -and that they constituted contempt of court. During the -trial of a criminal prosecution in Boston a few years ago -against a railway engineer for manslaughter in wrecking -his train, the editor of the <cite>Boston Traveler</cite> intimated editorially -that the railway company was trying to put the -blame on the engineer as a scapegoat, and that the result -of the trial would probably be in his favor. The editor -was sentenced to jail for this publication. The foregoing -are undoubtedly extreme cases, and are chosen simply to -show the extent to which some American courts will go in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_176'>176</span>punishing newspaper contempts. All of these decisions -were taken on appeal to the highest court of the state and -were there affirmed. The California courts have been -equally vigorous in several cases of recent years, notably -in connection with publications made during the celebrated -Durant murder trial in San Francisco.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The English courts are, if anything, even more severe -in this class of cases, a recent decision of the Court of -King’s Bench being a noteworthy illustration. During -the trial of two persons for felony, the “special crime investigator” -of the <cite>Bristol Weekly Dispatch</cite> sent to his -paper reports, couched in a fervid and sensational form, -containing a number of statements relating to matters as -to which evidence would not have been admissible in any -event against the defendants on their trial, and reflecting -severely on their characters. Both of the defendants -referred to were convicted of the crime for which they -were indicted, and sentenced to long terms of imprisonment. -Shortly after their conviction and sentence the editor -of the <cite>Dispatch</cite> and this special crime investigator were -prosecuted criminally for perverting the course of justice, -and each of them was sentenced to six weeks in prison. -Lord Alverstone, who rendered the opinion on the appeal -taken by the editor and reporter, in affirming the judgment -of conviction, expresses himself in language well worth -repeating. He says:<a id='r8' /><a href='#f8' class='c015'><sup>[8]</sup></a>—</p> - -<div class='footnote' id='f8'> -<p class='c010'><a href='#r8'>8</a>. 1 K. B. (1902), 77.—G. W. A.</p> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>“A person accused of crime in this country can properly -be convicted in a court of justice only upon evidence which -is legally admissible, and which is adduced at his trial in -legal form and shape. Though the accused be really guilty -of the offense charged against him, the due course of law -and justice is nevertheless perverted and obstructed if -<span class='pageno' id='Page_177'>177</span>those who have to try him are induced to approach the -question of his guilt or innocence with minds into which -prejudice has been instilled by published assertions of his -guilt, or imputations against his life and character to which -the laws of the land refuse admission as evidence.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>In the state of New York the courts have permitted -themselves to be deprived of the greater portion of the -power which the courts of Massachusetts, in common with -those of most of the states, exercise of punishing for contempt -the authors of newspaper publications prejudicial -to fair trials. Some twenty-five years ago the state legislature -passed an act defining and limiting the cases in -which summary punishment for contempt should be inflicted -by the courts. Similar legislation has been attempted -in other states, only to be declared unconstitutional -by the courts themselves, which hold that the power -to punish is inherent in the judiciary independently of legislative -authority, and that, as the Supreme Court of Ohio -says, “The power the legislature does not give, it cannot -take away.” But while the courts of Ohio, Virginia, -Georgia, Indiana, Kentucky, Arkansas, Colorado, and -California have thus resisted legislative encroachment upon -their constitutional powers, the highest court of New York -has submitted to having its power to protect its own usefulness -and dignity shorn and curtailed by the legislature. -The result is that while by legislative permission they may -punish the editor or proprietor of a paper for contempt, it -can be <em>only</em> when the offense consists in publishing “a -false or grossly inaccurate report of a judicial proceeding.” -The insufficiency of such a power is apparent when one -considers that the greater number of the cartoons and -comments contained in publications fairly complained of -as prejudicing individual legal rights are not, and do not -pretend to be, reports of judicial proceedings at all, but -<span class='pageno' id='Page_178'>178</span>are entirely accounts of matters “outside the record.” If -the acts done, for example, in any of the cases cited as -illustrations above, had been done under similar circumstances -in New York, the New York courts would have -been powerless to take any proceeding whatever in the -nature of contempt against the respective offenders. The -result is that in the state which suffers most from the gross -and unbridled license of a sensational and lawless press the -courts possess the least power to repress and restrain its -excesses. A change of law which shall give New York -courts power to deal summarily with trial by newspaper is -imperatively needed.</p> - -<p class='c010'>To the two examples which have just been given of the -direct influence which counting-house journalism seeks to -exert upon judges and jurors, might be added others of -equal importance, would space permit. But all improper -influences upon legislators or other public officials, or upon -judges or jurors, which these papers may exercise or attempt -to exercise, are as naught in comparison with their -systematic and constant efforts to instill into the minds of -the ignorant and poor, who constitute the greater part of -their readers, the impression that justice is not blind but -bought; that the great corporations own the judges, particularly -those of the Federal courts, body and soul; that -American institutions are rotten to the core, and that legislative -halls and courts of justice exist as instruments of -oppression, to preserve the rights of property by denying -or destroying the rights of man. No greater injury -can be done to the working people than to create in their -minds this false and groundless suspicion concerning the -integrity of the judiciary. In a country whose political -existence, in the ultimate analysis, depends so largely upon -the intelligence and honesty of its judges, the general welfare -requires, not merely that judges should be men of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_179'>179</span>integrity, but that the people should believe them to be so. -It is this confidence which counting-house journalism has -set itself deliberately at undermining. It is not so important -that the people should believe in the wisdom of their -judges. The liberty of criticism is not confined to the bar -and what Judge Grover used to call “the lawyer’s inalienable -privilege of damning the adverse judge—out of -court.” There is no divinity which hedges a judge. His -opinions and his personality are proper subjects for criticism, -but the charge of corruption should not be made -recklessly and without good cause.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It is noticeable that this charge of corruption which -yellow journalism makes against the courts is almost invariably -a wholesale charge, never accompanied by any -specific accusation against any definite official. These -general charges are more frequently expressed by cartoon -than by comment. The big-chested Carthaginian labeled -“The Trusts,” holding a squirming Federal judge in his -fist, is a cartoon which in one form or another appears -in some of these papers whenever an injunction is granted -in a labor dispute at the instance of some great corporation. -Justice holding her scales with a workingman unevenly -balanced by an immense bag of gold; a human -basilisk with dollar marks on his clothes, a judge sticking -out of his pocket, and a workingman under his foot; Justice -holding her scales in one hand while the other is -conveniently open to receive the bribe that is being -placed in it—these and many other cartoons of similar -character and meaning are familiar to all readers of sensational -newspapers. If their readers believe the cartoons, -what faith can they have left in American institutions? -What alternative is offered but anarchy if wealth has -poisoned the fountains of justice; if reason is powerless -<span class='pageno' id='Page_180'>180</span>and money omnipotent? If the judges are corrupt, the -political heavens are empty.</p> - -<p class='c010'>There is no occasion to defend the American judiciary -from charges of wholesale corruption. They might be -passed over in silence if they were addressed merely to the -educated and intelligent, or to those familiar by personal -contact with the actual operations of the courts. That -there are many judicial decisions rendered which are unsound -in their reasoning may be readily granted. That -some of the Federal judges are men of very narrow gauge, -and that, during the recent coal strike for example, in granting -sweeping, wholesale injunctions against strikers they -have accompanied their decrees at times with opinions so -unjudicial, so filled with mediæval prejudice and rancor -against legitimate organizations of working people as to -rouse the indignation of right-minded men, may be admitted. -But prejudice and corruption are totally dissimilar. -There is always hope that an honest though -prejudiced man may in time see reason. This hope inspires -patience and forbearance. Justice can wait with confidence -while the prejudiced or ultra-conservative judge -grows wise, and the principles of law are strongest and -surest when they have been established by surmounting -the prejudice and doubts of many timid and over-conservative -men. But justice and human progress should -not and will not wait until the corrupt judge becomes -honest. To thoughtful men the severest charge yet to be -made against this new journalism is not merely the influence -it attempts to exert, and perhaps does exert, in particular -cases, but that, wantonly and without just cause, it -endeavors to destroy in the hearts and minds of thousands -of newspaper readers a deserved confidence in the integrity -of the courts and a patient faith in the ultimate triumph -of justice by law.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_181'>181</span> - <h2 class='c008'>THE CRITIC AND THE LAW</h2> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c005'> - <div>BY RICHARD WASHBURN CHILD</div> - </div> -</div> - -<h3 class='c012'>I</h3> - -<p class='c013'>A recent prosecution by the People of New York, represented -by Mr. Jerome, of a suit for criminal libel, attracted -the attention of the entire nation. The alleged -libel set forth in the complaint had appeared in <cite>Collier’s -Weekly</cite>, stating the connection of a certain judge with a -certain unwholesome publication. The defense to this -action was that the statement was true; and, somewhat to -the joy of all concerned, excepting the judge, the unwholesome -publication, and those who were exposed in the -course of trial as being its creatures, the jury were obliged -to find that this defense was sound.<a id='r9' /><a href='#f9' class='c015'><sup>[9]</sup></a> From a lawyer’s point -of view it was surprising to find that even professional -critics and editorial writers looked upon this case as involving -that part of the Common Law which prescribes -the limits of criticism. It only needs to be pointed out -that the statement relied upon as defamation was a statement -of fact, to show that the case against the Collier -editors involved no question of a critic’s right to criticise -or an editor’s right to express his opinion. If the suit had -been founded on the criticism of the contents of the unwholesome -publication which had been offered to the public -for those to read who would, then the law of fair comment -would have controlled. No doubt, however, even -the trained guides to the public taste seldom realize the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_182'>182</span>presence of a law governing their freedom of comment. -Such law is in force none the less, and, though the instinct -to express only fair and honest opinion will generally suffice -to prevent a breach of legal limits, it is evident that -the consideration of the law upon the subject is important, -not only to the professional critic, but to any man who -has enough opinion on matters of public interest to be -worth an expression.</p> - -<div class='footnote' id='f9'> -<p class='c010'><a href='#r9'>9</a>. The verdict for <cite>Collier’s Weekly</cite>, the defendant, was rendered on -January 26, 1906. Cf. <cite>Collier’s Weekly</cite>, February 10, 1906, vol. 36, p. -23.—<span class='sc'>Ed.</span></p> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>It is public policy that the free expression of opinion on -matters of public interest should be as little hampered as -possible. Fair comment, says the law, is the preventive -of affectation and folly, the educator of the public taste -and ethics, and the incentive to progress in the arts. Often -fair comment is spoken of as privileged. But privilege in -its legal sense means that some statement is allowed to some -particular person on some particular occasion—a statement -that would be libel or slander unless it came within -the realm of privilege. On the other hand, fair comment -is not the right of any particular person or class, or the -privilege of any particular occasion; it is not exclusively -the right of the press or of one who is a critic in the sense -that he is an expert. Doubtless the newspaper or professional -critic is given a greater latitude by juries, who share -the prevalent and not ill-advised view that opinion expressed -by the public press is usually more sound than -private comment. The law, however, recognizes no such -distinction. Any one may be a critic.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In civil actions of defamation, truth in a general way is -always a defense; whether the person against whom the suit -is brought has made a statement of fact or opinion, if he -can prove his words to be true, he is safe from liability. -Such was the defense of the Collier editors in the criminal -case mentioned above. Fair comment, however, does not -<span class='pageno' id='Page_183'>183</span>need to be true to be defended, for it is, if we may use the -phrase, its own defense. Then what is fair comment?</p> - -<p class='c010'>The right to comment is confined to matters which are -of interest to the public. To endeavor to give a list of -matters answering this requirement would be an endless -task; even the courts of England and this country have -passed upon only a few. Instances when the attention, -judgment, and taste of the public are called upon are, -however, most frequent in the fields of politics and of the -arts. Such are the acts of those entrusted with functions -of government, the direction of public institutions and -possibly church matters, published books, pictures which -have been exhibited, architecture, theatres, concerts, and -public entertainments. Two reasons prohibit comment -upon that which has not become the affair of the public nor -has been offered to the attention of the public:—the public -is not benefited by the criticism of that which it does -not know, and about which it has no concern, and the act -of the doer or the work of the artist against which the comment -is directed cannot be said to have been submitted to -open criticism.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The requirement, which seems right in principle, and -which has been laid down many times in the remarks -of English judges, was perhaps overlooked in Battersby -vs. Collier, a New York case. Colonel Battersby, it appeared, -was a veteran of the Civil War, and for six years -had been engaged in painting a picture representing the -dramatic meeting of General Lee and General Grant, at -which Colonel Battersby was present. This painting was -intended for exhibition at the Columbian Exposition. Unfortunately, -a few days before Christmas, a young woman -of a literary turn of mind had an opportunity to view this -immense canvas, and was less favorably impressed with -the painting than with the pathos surrounding its inception -<span class='pageno' id='Page_184'>184</span>and development. Accordingly she wrote a story -headed by that handiest of handy titles, <cite>The Colonel’s -Christmas</cite>, but she did not sufficiently conceal the identity -of her principal character. Colonel Battersby sued the -publishers, and for damages relied upon the aspersions cast -upon his picture, which in the story was called a “daub.” -More than that, there occurred in the narrative these -words: “What matters it if the Colonel’s ideas of color, -light, and shade were a trifle hazy, if his perspective was -a something extraordinary, his ‘breadth’ and ‘treatment’ -and ‘tone’ truly marvelous, the Surrender was a great, -vast picture, and it was the Colonel’s life.” The court held -that this was a fair criticism; but it does not plainly appear -that Colonel Battersby had yet submitted his six-year -painting to the attention of the public, or that it had -at the time become an object of general public interest; -and if it had not, the decision would seem doubtful in -principle.</p> - -<p class='c010'>On the other hand, in Gott vs. Pulsifer there was involved -the “Cardiff Giant,” which all remember as the -merriest of practical jokes in rock, which made Harvard -scientists rub their eyes and called forth from one Yale -professor a magazine article to prove that the man of -stone was the god Baal brought to New York State by -the Phœnicians. The court said that all manner of abuse -might be heaped on the Giant’s adamant head. “Anything -made subject of public exhibition,” said they, “is -open to fair and reasonable comment, no matter how -severe.” So you might with impunity call the Cardiff -Giant, or Barnum’s famous long-haired horse, a hoax; -they were objects of general public interest, and any one -might have passed judgment upon them.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Letters written to a newspaper may be criticised most -severely, as often happens when Constant Reader enters -<span class='pageno' id='Page_185'>185</span>into a warfare of communication with Old Subscriber; and -so long as the contention is free from actionable personalities, -and remains within the bounds of fair comment, -neither will find himself in trouble. Nor is the commercial -advertisement immune from caustic comment, if the comment -is sincere. The rhymes in the street cars, the posters -on the fences, the handbill that is thrust over the domestic -threshold, and the signboard, that has now become a factor -in every rural sunset or urban sunrise, must bear the comment -upon their taste, their efficiency, and their ingenuity, -which by their very nature they invite. In England a -writer was sued by the maker of a commodity for travelers -advertised as the “Bag of Bags.” The writer thought the -commercial catch-name was silly, vulgar, and ill-conceived, -and he said so. The manufacturer in court urged -that the comment injured his trade; but the judges were -inclined to think that an advertisement appealing to the -public was subject to the public opinion and its fair expression. -What is of interest to the general public, so that -comment thereon will be a right of the public, may, however, -in certain cases trouble the jury. A volume of love -sonnets printed and circulated privately, and the architecture -of a person’s private dwelling, might furnish very -delicate cases.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In a time when those who desire to be conspicuous succeed -so well in becoming so, it is rather amusing to wonder -just what may be the difference between the right to comment -on the dancer on the stage, and on the lady who, if -she has her way, will sit in a box. Both court public -notice—the dancer by her penciled eyebrows, her tinted -cheeks, her jewelry, her gown, and her grace; the lady in -the box, perhaps, by all these things except the last; both -wish favorable comment, and perhaps ought to bear ridicule, -if their cheeks are too tinted, their eyebrows too -<span class='pageno' id='Page_186'>186</span>penciled, their jewelry too generous, and their gowns too -ornate. A more sober view, however, will show that the -matter is one of proof. The dancer who exhibits herself -and her dance for a consideration necessarily invites expressions -of opinion, but it would be difficult to show in a -court of law that the gala lady in the box meant to seek -either commendation—or disapproval.</p> - -<p class='c010'>A vastly more important and interesting query, and one -which must arise from the present state and tendency of -industrial conditions, is whether the acts of men in commercial -activity may ever become so prominent, and so -far-reaching in their effect, that it can well be said that -they compel a universal public interest, and that public -comment is impliedly invited by reason of their conspicuous -and semi-public nature. It may be said that at no -time have private industries become of such startling interest -to the community at large as at present in the United -States. At least a few have had an effect more vital to -citizens, perhaps, than the activities of some classes of -public officials which are open to fair comment, and certainly -more vital than the management of some semi-public -institutions, which also are open to honest criticism.</p> - -<p class='c010'>As to corporations, it would seem that, as the public, -through the chartering power of legislation, gives them a -right to exist and act, an argument that the public retains -the right to comment upon their management must have -some force; in the case of other forms of commercial activity, -whose powers are inherent and not delegated, the question -must rest on the determination of the best public -policy—a determination which in all classes of cases decides, -and ought to decide, the right of fair comment.</p> - -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_187'>187</span> - <h3 class='c014'>II</h3> -</div> - -<p class='c013'>When once the comment is decided to be upon a matter -of public interest, there arises the question whether or -not the comment is fair. The requirement of the law in -regard to fairness is not based, as might be supposed, -upon the consideration whether comment is mild or severe, -serious or ridiculing, temperate or exaggerated; the -critic is not hampered in the free play of his honest opinions; -he is not prohibited from using the most stinging -satire, the most extravagant burlesque, or the most lacerating -invective.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In 1808, Lord Ellenborough, in Carr vs. Hood, stated -the length of leash given to the critic, and the law has not -since been changed. Sir John Carr, Knight, was the -author of several volumes, entitled <cite>A Stranger in France</cite>, -<cite>A Northern Summer</cite>, <cite>A Stranger in Ireland</cite>, and other titles -of equal connotation. Thomas Hood was rather more -deserving of a lasting place in literature than his victim, -because of his sense of humor, and his well-known rapid-fire -satire. According to the declaration of Sir John Carr, -the plaintiff, Hood had published a book of burlesque in -which there was a frontispiece entitled “The Knight leaving -Ireland with Regret,” and “containing and representing -in the said print, a certain false, scandalous, malicious -and defamatory and ridiculous representation of said Sir -John in the form of a man of ludicrous and ridiculous appearance -holding a pocket handkerchief to his face, and -appearing to be weeping,” and also representing “a malicious -and ridiculous man of ludicrous and ridiculous appearance -following the said Sir John,” and bending under the -weight of several books, and carrying a tied-up pocket -handkerchief with “Wardrobe” printed thereon, “thereby -falsely scandalously and maliciously meaning and intending -<span class='pageno' id='Page_188'>188</span>to represent, for the purpose of rendering the said Sir -John ridiculous and exposing him to laughter, ridicule and -contempt,” that the books of the said Sir John “were so -heavy as to cause a man to bend under the weight thereof, -and that his the said Sir John’s wardrobe was very small -and capable of being contained in a pocket handkerchief.” -And at the end of this declaration Sir John alleged that -he was damaged because of the consequent decline in his -literary reputation, and, it may be supposed, because thereafter -his books did not appear in the list of the “six bestsellers” -in the Kingdom.</p> - -<p class='c010'>But no recovery was allowed him, for it was laid down -that if a comment, in whatever form, only ridiculed the -plaintiff as an author, there was no ground for action. Said -the eminent justice, “One writer, in exposing the follies -and errors of another, may make use of ridicule, however -poignant. Ridicule is often the fittest weapon for such a -purpose.... Perhaps the plaintiff’s works are now unsalable, -but is he to be indemnified by receiving a compensation -from the person who has opened the eyes of the -public to the bad taste and inanity of his compositions?... -We must not cramp observations on authors and -their works.... The critic does a great service to the -public who writes down any vapid or useless publication, -such as ought never to have appeared. He checks the dissemination -of bad taste, and prevents people from wasting -both their time and money upon trash. Fair and candid -criticism every one has a right to publish, although the -author may suffer a loss from it. Such a loss the law does -not consider an injury, because it is a loss which the party -ought to sustain. It is, in short, the loss of fame and -profits to which he was never entitled.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Criticism need not be fair and just, in the sense that it -conforms to the judgment of the majority of the public, or -<span class='pageno' id='Page_189'>189</span>the ideas of a judge, or the estimate of a jury; but it must -remain within certain bounds circumscribed by the law.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In the first place, comment must be made honestly; in -recent cases much more stress has been laid upon this point -than formerly. It is urged that, if criticism is not sincere, -it is not valuable to the public, and the ground of public -policy, upon which the doctrine of fair criticism is built, -fails to give support to comment which is born of improper -motives or begotten from personal hatred or malice. Yet -he who seeks for cases of criticism which have been decided -against the critic solely on the ground that the critic was -malicious must look far. The requirement in practice -seems difficult of application, since, if the critic does not -depart from the work that he is criticising, to strike at the -author thereof as a private individual, and does not mix -with his comment false statements or imputations of bad -motives, there is nothing to show legal malice, and it is -almost impossible to prove actual malice. If you should -conclude that your neighbor’s painting which has been on -exhibition is a beautiful marine, but if, because you do not -like your neighbor, you pronounce it to be a dreadful mire -of blue paint, it would be very hard for any other person -to prove that at the moment you spoke you were not -speaking honestly. Again, if the comment is within the -other restrictions put by the law upon criticism, it would -seem that to open the question whether or not the comment -was malicious, is in effect very nearly submitting to -the jury the question whether or not they disagree with -the critic, since the jury have no other method of reaching -a conclusion that the critic was or was not impelled by -malice.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Malice, in fact, is a bugaboo in the law—and the law, -especially the civil law, avoids dealing with him whenever -it can. Yet it is quite certain that malice must be a consideration -<span class='pageno' id='Page_190'>190</span>in determining what is fair comment; an opinion -which is not honest is of no help to the public in its striving -to attain high morals and unerring discernment. All the -reasons of public policy that give criticism its rights fly -out of the window when malice walks in at the door.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Some decisions of the courts seem to set the standard of -fair comment even higher. They not only demand that -the critic speak with an honest belief in his opinion, but -insist also that a person taking upon himself to criticise -must exercise a reasonable degree of judgment. As one -English judge expressed it in charging the jury: “You -must determine whether any fair man, however exaggerated -or obstinate his views, would have said what this -criticism has said.” It would seem, however, that in many -cases this would result in putting the judgment of the jury -against that of the critic. To ask the jury whether this -comment is such as would be made by a fair man is not -distinguishable from asking them whether the comment is -fair, and it sometimes happens that, in spite of the opinion -of the jury,—in fact, the opinion of all the world,—the -single critic is right, and the rest of the community all -wrong. Does any one doubt that the comment of Columbus -upon the views of those who opposed him would have -been considered unfair by a jury of his time, until this -doughty navigator proved his judgment correct? What -would have happened in a court of law to the man who -first said that those who wrote that the earth was flat were -stupidly ignorant? Often the opinion or criticism which is -the most valuable to the community as a contribution to -truth is the very opinion which the community as a body -would call a wild inference by an unfair man; to hold the -critic up to the standard of a “fair man” is to deprive the -public of the benefit of the most powerful influences against -the perpetuity of error.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_191'>191</span>No better illustration could be found than the case of -Merrivale and Wife <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">vs.</span></i> Carson, in which a dramatic critic -said of a play: “<cite>The Whip Hand</cite> ... gives us nothing -but a hash-up of ingredients which have been used <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">ad -nauseam</span></i>, until one rises in protestation against the loving, -confiding, fatuous husband with the naughty wife, and her -double existence, the good male genius, the limp aristocrat, -and the villainous foreigner. And why dramatic -authors will insist that in modern society comedies the -villain must be a foreigner, and the foreigner must be a -villain, is only explicable on the ground that there is more -or less romance about such gentry. It is more in consonance -with accepted notions that your continental croupier -would make a much better fictitious prince, marquis, -or count, than would, say, an English billiard-maker or -stable lout. And so the Marquis Colonna in <cite>The Whip -Hand</cite> is offered up by the authors upon the altar of tradition, -and sacrificed in the usual manner when he gets too -troublesome to permit of the reconciliation of husband and -wife and lover and maiden, and is proved, also much as -usual, to be nothing more than a kicked-out croupier.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The jury found that this amounted to falsely setting -out the drama as adulterous and immoral, and was not the -criticism of a fair man. Granting that there was the general -imputation of immorality, it seems, justly considered, -a matter of the critic’s opinion. Is not the critic in effect -saying, “To my mind the play is adulterous; no matter -what any one else may think, the play suggests immorality -to me”? And if this is the honest opinion of the critic, no -matter how much juries may differ from him, it would -seem that to stifle this individual expression was against -public policy, the very ground on which fair criticism becomes -a universal right. It does not very clearly appear -that the case of Merrivale and Wife <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">vs.</span></i> Carson was decided -<span class='pageno' id='Page_192'>192</span>exclusively on the question whether the criticism was that -of a fair man, but this was the leading point of the case. -The decision and the doctrine it sets forth seem open to -much doubt.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>III</h3> - -<p class='c013'>Criticism must never depart from a consideration of the -work of the artist or artisan, or the public acts of a person, -to attack the individual himself, apart from his connection -with the particular work or act which is being criticised. -The critic is forbidden to touch upon the domestic -or private life of the individual, or upon such matters concerning -the individual as are not of general public interest, -at the peril of exceeding his right. Whereas, in Fry vs. -Bennett, an article in a newspaper purported to criticise -the management of a theatrical troupe, it was held to contain -a libel, since it went beyond matters which concerned -the public, and branded the conduct of the manager toward -his singers as unjust and oppressive.</p> - -<p class='c010'>J. Fenimore Cooper was plaintiff in another suit which -illustrates the same rule of law. This author had many -a gallant engagement with his critics, and, though it has -been said that a man who is his own lawyer has a fool for -a client, Mr. Cooper, conducting his own actions, won -from many publishers, including Mr. Horace Greeley and -Mr. Webb. In Cooper vs. Stone the facts reveal that the -author, having completed a voluminous <cite>Naval History of -the United States</cite>, in which he had given the lion’s share -of credit for the Battle of Lake Erie, not to the commanding -officer, Oliver H. Perry, but to Jesse D. Elliot, who -was a subordinate, was attacked by the <cite>New York Commercial -Advertiser</cite>, which imputed to the author “a disregard -of justice and propriety as a man,” represented him -as infatuated with vanity, mad with passion, and publishing -<span class='pageno' id='Page_193'>193</span>as true, statements and evidence which had been -falsified and encomiums which had been retracted. This -was held to exceed the limits of fair criticism, since it attacked -the character of the author as well as the book -itself.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The line, however, is not very finely drawn, as may be -seen by a comparison of the above case with Browning vs. -Van Rensselaer, in which the plaintiff was the author of a -genealogical treatise entitled <cite>Americans of Royal Descent</cite>. -A young woman, who was interested in founding a society -to be called the “Order of the Crown,” wrote to the defendant, -inviting her to join and recommending to her the book. -The latter answered this letter with a polite refusal, saying -that she thought such a society was un-American and -pretentious, and that the book gave no authority for its -statements. The court said that this, even though it implied -that the author was at fault, was not a personal -attack on his private character.</p> - -<p class='c010'>An intimate relationship almost always exists between -the doer of an act which interests the public and the act -itself; the architect is closely associated with his building, -the painter with his picture, the author with his works, -the inventor with his patent, the tradesman with his advertisement, -and the singer with his song; and the critic will -find it impossible not to encroach to some extent upon the -personality of the individual. It seems, however, that the -privilege of comment extends to the individual only so far -as is necessary to intelligent criticism of his particular work -under discussion. To write that Mr. Palet’s latest picture -shows that some artists are only fit to paint signs is a comment -on the picture, but to write, apart from comment -upon the particular work, that Mr. Palet is only fit to -paint signs is an attack upon the artist, and if it is untrue, -it is libel for which the law allows recovery.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_194'>194</span>No case presents a more complete confusion of the individual -and his work than that of an actor. His physical -characteristics, as well as his personality, may always be -said to be presented to general public interest along with -the words and movements which constitute his acting. -The critic can hardly speak of the performance without -speaking of the actor himself, who, it may be argued, presents -to a certain extent his own bodily and mental characteristics -to the judgment of the public, almost as much -as do the ossified man and the fat lady of the side show.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The case of Cherry <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">vs.</span></i> the <cite>Des Moines Leader</cite> will serve -to illustrate how far the critic who is not actuated by malice -may comment upon the actors as well as the performance, -and still be held to have remained within the limits of fair -criticism. The three Cherry sisters were performers in a -variety act, which consisted in part of a burlesque on -<cite>Trilby</cite>, and a more serious presentation entitled, <cite>The -Gypsy’s Warning</cite>. The judge stated that in his opinion -the evidence showed that the performance was ridiculous. -The testimony of Miss Cherry included a statement that -one of the songs was a “sort of eulogy on ourselves,” and -that the refrain consisted of these words:—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c016'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Cherries ripe and cherries red;</div> - <div class='line'>The Cherry Sisters are still ahead.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c019'>She also stated that in <cite>The Gypsy’s Warning</cite> she had taken -the part of a Spaniard or a cavalier, and that she always -supposed a Spaniard and a cavalier were one and the same -thing. The defendant published the following comment on -the performance: “Effie is an old jade of fifty summers, -Jessie a frisky filly of forty, and Addie, the flower of the -family, a capering monstrosity of thirty-five. Their long, -skinny arms, equipped with talons at the extremities, -swung mechanically, and anon waved frantically at the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_195'>195</span>suffering audience. The mouths of their rancid features -opened like caverns, and sounds like the wailings of damned -souls issued therefrom. They pranced around the stage -with a motion that suggested a cross between the <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">danse du -ventre</span></i> and fox-trot—strange creatures with painted faces -and hideous mien.” This was held to be fair criticism and -not libelous; for the Misses Cherry to a certain extent -presented their personal appearance as a part of their -performance.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The critic must not mix with his comment statement of -facts which are not true, since the statement of facts is not -criticism at all. In Tabbart <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">vs.</span></i> Tipper, the earliest case -on the subject, the defendant, in order to ridicule a book -published for children, printed a verse which purported to -be an extract from the book, and it was held that this -amounted to a false accusation that the author had published -something which in fact he had never published; it -was not comment, but an untrue statement of fact. So -when, as in Davis <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">vs.</span></i> Shepstone, the critic, in commenting -upon the acts of a government official in Zululand, falsely -stated that the officer had been guilty of an assault upon -a native chief, the critic went far beyond comment, and -was liable for defamation. Not unlike Tabbart <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">vs.</span></i> Tipper -is a recent case, Belknap <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">vs.</span></i> Ball. The defendant, during -a political campaign, printed in his newspaper a coarsely -executed imitation of the handwriting of a political candidate -of the opposing party, and an imitation of his signature -appeared beneath. The writing contained this misspelled, -unrhetorical sentence: “I don’t propose to go into -debate on the tariff differences on wool, quinine, and such, -because I ain’t built that way.” Readers were led to believe -that this was a signed statement by the candidate, -and the newspaper was barred from setting up the plea -that the writing was only fair criticism made through the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_196'>196</span>means of a burlesque; it was held that imputing to the -plaintiff something he had never written amounted to a -false statement of fact, and was not within fair comment.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The dividing line between opinion and statement of fact -is, however, most troublesome. Mr. Odgers, in his excellent -work on <cite>Libel and Slander</cite>, remarks that the rule for -the distinction between the two should be that “if facts -are known to hearers or readers or made known by the -writer, and their opinion or criticism refers to these true -facts, even if it is a statement in form, it is no less an -opinion. But if the statement simply stands alone, it is -not defended.” Applying this rule, what if a critic makes -this simple statement: “The latest book of Mr. Anonymous -is of interest to no intelligent man”? According to -the opinion of Mr. Odgers, it would seem that such a sentence -standing alone was a statement of fact, whereas it is -manifest that no one can think that the critic meant to say -more than that in his opinion the book was not interesting. -In Merrivale and Wife <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">vs.</span></i> Carson, the jury found that the -words used by the critic described the play as adulterous, -and the court said that this was a misdescription of the -play—a false statement of fact; but an adulterous play -may be one which is only suggestive of adultery; and even -if the critic had baldly said that the play was adulterous, -many of us would think that he was only expressing his -opinion.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Since the test of whether the statement is of opinion or -of fact lies, not in what the critic secretly intended, but -rather in what the hearer or reader understood, the question -is for the jury, and, it seems, should be presented to -them by the court in the form: “Would a reasonable man -under the circumstances have understood this to be a statement -of opinion or of fact?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>One other care remains for the critic: he must not falsely -<span class='pageno' id='Page_197'>197</span>impute a bad motive to the individual when commenting -upon his work. No less a critic than Ruskin was held to -have made this mistake in the instance of his criticism of -one of Mr. Whistler’s pictures. This well-known libel case -may be found reported in the <cite>Times</cite> for November 26 and -27, 1878. “The mannerisms and errors of these pictures,” -wrote Mr. Ruskin, alluding to the pictures of Mr. Burne-Jones, -“whatever may be their extent, are never affected -or indolent. The work is natural to the painter, however -strange to us, and is wrought with utmost care, however -far, to his own or our desire, the result may yet be incomplete. -Scarcely as much can be said for any other picture -in the modern school; their eccentricities are almost always -in some degree forced, and their imperfections gratuitously -if not impertinently indulged. For Mr. Whistler’s own -sake, no less than for the protection of the purchaser, Sir -Coutts Lindsay ought not to have admitted works into the -gallery in which the ill-educated conceit of the artist so -nearly approached the aspect of wilful imposture. I have -seen and heard much of cockney impudence before now, -but never expected to hear a coxcomb ask 200 guineas for -flinging a pot of paint in the public’s face.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Out of all this, stinging as it must have been to Mr. -Whistler, unless, since he loved enemies and hated friends, -he therefore found pleasure in the metaphorical thrashings -he received, the jury could find only one phrase, “wilful -imposture,” which, because it imputed bad motives, overstepped -the bounds of fair criticism.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mr. Odgers’s treatise states the rule to be that “When -no ground is assigned for an inference of bad motives, or -when the writer states the imputation of bad motives as a -fact within his knowledge, then he is only protected if the -imputation is true. But when the facts are set forth, together -with the inference, and the reader may judge of the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_198'>198</span>right or wrong of the opinion or inference, then if the facts -are true, the writer is protected.” It is, however, difficult -to see why the imputation of bad motives in the doer of an -act or the creator of a work of art should in any case come -under the right of fair comment, for, no matter how bad -the motives of the individual may be, they are of no consequence -to the public. If a book is immoral, it is immaterial -to a fair criticism whether or not the author meant -it to have an immoral effect; the public is not helped to a -proper judgment of the book by any one’s opinion of the -motives of the author, and if the book is bad in its effect, -it makes it no better that the author was impelled by the -best of intentions, or it makes it no worse that the author -was acting with the most evil designs. And if, as in most -of the cases that have arisen, the imputation is one of insincerity, -fraud, or deception practiced upon the public,—where, -for example, the critic, in commenting upon a -medical treatise, about which he had made known all the -facts, said that he thought the author wrote the book, not -in the interest of scientific truth, but rather to draw trade -by exploiting theories which he did not believe himself,—it -would seem that this charge of fraud or deception should -not be protected as a piece of fair comment, but that it -should be put upon an equality with all other imputations -against an individual, which if untrue and damaging would -be held to be libel or slander. Under Mr. Odgers’s rule, in -making a comment upon the acts of a public officer, one -could say, “In pardoning six criminals last week the governor -of the province, we think, has shown that he wishes -to encourage criminality.” No court would, we think, -hold this to be within the right of fair comment upon public -matters. If the critic had said, however, “We think that -the governor of the province, in pardoning six criminals, -encouraged criminality,” all the true value of criticism -<span class='pageno' id='Page_199'>199</span>remains, and the imputation that the public officer acted -from an evil motive is stripped away. The best view seems -to be that the right of fair comment will not shield the -false imputations of bad motive.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Whether or not the critic may impute to the individual -certain opinions does not seem to be settled, but logically -this would be quite as much a statement of fact, or a criticism -directed at the individual, as an imputation of bad -motives. A few courts in this country have expressed a -leaning to the opposite view, but the ground upon which -they place their opinion does not appear.</p> - -<p class='c010'>From the legal point of view, then, we as critics are all -held to a high standard of fairness. We must not comment -upon any but matters of public interest. We must -be honest and sincere, but we may express any view, no -matter how prejudiced or exaggerated it may be, so long -as it does not exceed the limits to which a reasonably fair -man would go; we must not attack the individual any -more than is consistent with a criticism of that which he -makes or does, and we must not expect that we are within -our right of comment when we make statements of fact or -impute to the individual evil motives.</p> - -<p class='c010'>All the world asks the critic to be honest, careful, above -spite and personalities, and polite enough not to thrust -upon us a consideration in which we have no interest. The -law demands no more.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_200'>200</span> - <h2 class='c008'>HONEST LITERARY CRITICISM</h2> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c005'> - <div>BY CHARLES MINER THOMPSON</div> - </div> -</div> - -<h3 class='c012'>I</h3> - -<p class='c013'>There are five groups interested in literary criticism: -publishers of books, authors, publishers of reviews, critics, -and, finally, the reading public.</p> - -<p class='c010'>An obvious interest of all the groups but the last is -financial. For the publisher of books, although he may -have his pride, criticism is primarily an advertisement: he -hopes that his books will be so praised as to commend them -to buyers. For the publisher of book-reviews, although he -also may have his pride, criticism is primarily an attraction -for advertisements: he hopes that his reviews will lead -publishers of books to advertise in his columns. For the -critic, whatever his ideals, criticism is, in whole or in part, -his livelihood. For the author, no matter how disinterested, -criticism is reputation—perhaps a reputation that -can be coined. In respect of this financial interest, all four -are opposed to the public, which wants nothing but competent -service—a guide to agreeable reading, an adviser -in selecting gifts, a herald of new knowledge, a giver of -intellectual delight.</p> - -<p class='c010'>All five groups are discontented with the present condition -of American criticism.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Publishers of books complain that reviews do not help -sales. Publishers of magazines lament that readers do not -care for articles on literary subjects. Publishers of newspapers -frankly doubt the interest of book-notices. The -critic confesses that his occupation is ill-considered and -ill-paid. The author wrathfully exclaims—but what he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_201'>201</span>exclaims cannot be summarized, so various is it. Thus, -the whole commercial interest is unsatisfied. The public, -on the other hand, finds book-reviews of little service and -reads them, if at all, with indifference, with distrust, or -with exasperation. That part of the public which appreciates -criticism as an art maintains an eloquent silence and -reads French.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Obviously, what frets the commercial interest is the -public indifference to book-reviews. What is the cause of -that?</p> - -<p class='c010'>In critical writing, what is the base of interest, the indispensable -foundation in comparison with which all else is -superstructure? I mentioned the public which, appreciating -criticism as an art, turns from America to France -for what it craves. Our sympathies respond to the call of -our own national life, and may not be satisfied by Frenchmen; -if we turn to them, we do so for some attraction -which compensates for the absence of intimate relation to -our needs. What is it? Of course, French mastery of form -accounts in part for our intellectual absenteeism; but it -does not account for it wholly, not, I think, even in the -main.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Consider the two schools of French criticism typified -by Brunetière and by Anatole France. Men like Brunetière -seem to believe that what they say is important, not -merely to fellow dilettanti or to fellow scholars, but to the -public and to the mass of the public; they seem to write, -not to display their attainments, but to use their attainments -to accomplish their end; they put their whole -strength, intellectual and moral, into their argument; they -seek to make converts, to crush enemies. They are in -earnest; they feel responsible; they take their office with -high seriousness. They seem to think that the soul and -the character of the people are as important as its economic -<span class='pageno' id='Page_202'>202</span>comfort. The problem of a contemporary, popular author—even -if contemporary, even if popular—is to -them an important question; the intellectual, moral, and -æsthetic ideals which he is spreading through the country -are to be tested rigorously, then applauded or fought. -They seek to be clear because they wish to interest; they -wish to interest because they wish to convince; they wish -to convince because they have convictions which they -believe should prevail.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The men like Anatole France—if there are any others -like Anatole France—have a different philosophy of life. -They are doubtful of endeavor, doubtful of progress, doubtful -of new schools of art, doubtful of new solutions whether -in philosophy or economics; but they have a quick sensitiveness -to beauty and a profound sympathy with suffering -man. Not only do they face their doubts, but they -make their readers face them. They do not pretend; they -do not conceal; they flatter no conventions and no prejudices; -they are sincere. Giving themselves without reserve, -they do not speak what they think will please you, -but rather try with all their art to please you with what -they think.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In the French critics of both types—the men like -Brunetière, the men like Anatole France—there is this -common, this invaluable characteristic,—I mean intellectual -candor. That is their great attraction; that is the -foundation of interest.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Intellectual candor does not mark American criticism. -The fault is primarily the publisher’s. It lies in the fundamental -mistake that he makes in the matter of publicity. -Each publisher, that is, treats each new book as if it were -the only one that he had ever published, were publishing, -or ever should publish. He gives all his efforts to seeing -that it is praised. He repeats these exertions with some -<span class='pageno' id='Page_203'>203</span>success for each book that he prints. Meanwhile, every -other publisher is doing as much for every new book of -his own. The natural result follows—a monotony of -praise which permits no books to stand out, and which, -however plausible in the particular instance, is, in the -mass, incredible.</p> - -<p class='c010'>But how is it that the publisher’s fiat produces praise? -The answer is implicit in the fact that criticism is supported, -not by the public, but by the publisher. Upon the -money which the publisher of books is ready to spend for -advertising depends the publisher of book-reviews; upon -him in turn depends the critic.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Between the publisher of books anxious for favorable -reviews and willing to spend money, and the publisher of -a newspaper anxious for advertisements and supporting a -dependent critic, the chance to trade is perfect. Nothing -sordid need be said or, indeed, perceived; all may be left -to the workings of human nature. Favorable reviews are -printed, advertisements are received; and no one, not even -the principals, need be certain that the reviews are not -favorable because the books are good, or that the advertisements -are not given because the comment is competent -and just. Nevertheless, the Silent Bargain has been decorously -struck. Once reached, it tends of itself to become -ever more close, intimate, and inclusive. The publisher -of books is continuously tempted to push his advantage -with the complaisant publisher of a newspaper; the publisher -of a newspaper is continuously tempted to pitch ever -higher and still higher the note of praise.</p> - -<p class='c010'>But the Silent Bargain is not made with newspapers -only. Obviously, critics can say nothing without the consent -of some publisher; obviously, their alternatives are -silence or submission. They who write for the magazines -are wooed to constant surrender; they must, or they think -<span class='pageno' id='Page_204'>204</span>that they must, be tender of all authors who have commercial -relations with the house that publishes the periodical -to which they are contributing. Even they who write -books are not exempt; they must, or they feel that they -must, deal gently with reputations commercially dear to -their publisher. If the critic is timid, or amiable, or intriguing, -or struck with poverty, he is certain, whatever -his rank, to dodge, to soften, to omit whatever he fears may -displease the publisher on whom he depends. Selfish considerations -thus tend ever to emasculate criticism; criticism -thus tends ever to assume more and more nearly the -most dishonest and exasperating form of advertisement, -that of the “reading notice” which presents itself as sincere, -spontaneous testimony. Disingenuous criticism tends -in its turn to puzzle and disgust the public—and to hurt -the publisher. The puff is a boomerang.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Its return blow is serious; it would be fatal, could readers -turn away wholly from criticism. What saves the publisher -is that they cannot. They have continuous, practical -need of books, and must know about them. The multitudinous -paths of reading stretch away at every angle, -and the traveling crowd must gather and guess and wonder -about the guide-post criticism, even if each finger, contradicting -every other, points to its own road as that “To -Excellence.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Wayfarers in like predicament would question one another. -It is so with readers. Curiously enough, publishers -declare that their best advertising flows from this private -talk. They all agree that, whereas reviews sell nothing, -the gossip of readers sells much. Curiously, I say; for this -gossip is not under their control; it is as often adverse as -favorable; it kills as much as it sells. Moreover, when it -kills, it kills in secret; it leaves the bewildered publisher -without a clue to the culprit or his motive. How, then, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_205'>205</span>can it be superior to the controlled, considerate flattery of -the public press? It is odd that publishers never seriously -ask themselves this question, for the answer, if I have it, -is instructive. The dictum of the schoolgirl that a novel -is “perfectly lovely” or “perfectly horrid,” comes from -the heart. The comment of society women at afternoon -tea, the talk of business men at the club, if seldom of much -critical value, is sincere. In circles in which literature is -loved, the witty things which clever men and clever -women say about books are inspired by the fear neither -of God nor of man. In circles falsely literary, parrot talk -and affectation hold sway, but the talkers have an absurd -faith in one another. In short, all private talk about books -bears the stamp of sincerity. That is what makes the -power of the spoken word. It is still more potent when it -takes the form, not of casual mention, but of real discussion. -When opinions differ, talk becomes animated, warm, -continuous. Listeners are turned into partisans. A lively, -unfettered dispute over a book by witty men, no matter -how prejudiced, or by clever women, no matter how unlearned, -does not leave the listener indifferent. He is -tempted to read that book.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Now, what the publisher needs in order to print with -financial profit the best work and much work, is the creation -of a wide general interest in literature. This vastly -transcends in importance the fate of any one book or group -of books. Instead, then, of trying to start in the public -press a chorus of stupid praise, why should he not endeavor -to obtain a reproduction of what he acknowledges that his -experience has taught him is his main prop and support—the -frank word, the unfettered dispute of private talk? -Let him remember what has happened when the vivacity -of public opinion has forced this reproduction. It is history -that those works have been best advertised over which -<span class='pageno' id='Page_206'>206</span>critics have fought—Hugo’s dramas, Wagner’s music, -Whitman’s poems, Zola’s novels, Mrs. Stowe’s <cite>Uncle Tom</cite>.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Does it not all suggest the folly of the Silent Bargain?</p> - -<p class='c010'>I have spoken always of tendencies. Public criticism -never has been and never will be wholly dishonest, even -when in the toils of the Silent Bargain; it never has been -and never will be wholly honest, even with that cuttlefish -removed. But if beyond cavil it tended towards sincerity, -the improvement would be large. In the measure of that -tendency it would gain the public confidence without which -it can benefit no one—not even the publisher. For his -own sake he should do what he can to make the public -regard the critic, not as a mere megaphone for his advertisements, -but as an honest man who speaks his honest -mind. To this end, he should deny his foolish taste for -praise, and, even to the hurt of individual ventures, use -his influence to foster independence in the critic.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In the way of negative help, he should cease to tempt -lazy and indifferent reviewers with ready-made notices, -the perfunctory and insincere work of some minor employee; -he should stop sending out, as “literary” notes, -thinly disguised advertisements and irrelevant personalities; -he should no longer supply photographs of his authors -in affected poses that display their vanity much and their -talent not at all. That vulgarity he should leave to those -who have soubrettes to exploit; he should not treat his -authors as if they were variety artists—unless, indeed, -they are just that, and he himself on the level of the manager -of a low vaudeville house. These cheap devices lower -his dignity as a publisher, they are a positive hurt to the -reputation of his authors, they make less valuable to him -the periodical that prints them, and they are an irritation -and an insult to the critic, for, one and all, they are attempts -to insinuate advertising into his honest columns. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_207'>207</span>Frankly, they are modes of corruption, and degrade the -whole business of writing.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In the way of positive help, he should relieve of every -commercial preoccupation, not only the editors and contributors -of any magazines that he may control, but also -those authors of criticism and critical biography whose -volumes he may print. Having cleaned his own house, he -should steadily demand of the publications in which he -advertises, a higher grade of critical writing, and should -select the periodicals to which to send his books for notice, -not according to the partiality, but according to the -ability of their reviews. Thus he would do much to make -others follow his own good example.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>II</h3> - -<p class='c013'>What of the author? In respect of criticism, the publisher, -of course, has no absolute rights, not even that of -having his books noticed at all. His interests only have -been in question, and, in the long run and in the mass, -these will not be harmed, but benefited, by criticism -honestly adverse. He has in his writers a hundred talents, -and if his selection is shrewd most of them bring profit. -Frank criticism will but help the task of judicious culling. -But all that has been said assumes the cheerful sacrifice of -the particular author who must stake his all upon his -single talent. Does his comparative helplessness give him -any right to tender treatment?</p> - -<p class='c010'>It does not; in respect of rights his, precisely, is the -predicament of the publisher. If an author puts forth a -book for sale, he obviously can be accorded no privilege -incompatible with the right of the public to know its value. -He cannot ask to have the public fooled for his benefit; he -cannot ask to have his feelings saved, if to save them the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_208'>208</span>critic must neglect to inform his readers. That is rudimentary. -Nor may the author argue more subtly that, -until criticism is a science and truth unmistakable, he -should be given the benefit of the doubt. This was the -proposition behind the plea, strongly urged not so long ago, -that all criticism should be “sympathetic”; that is, that -the particular critic is qualified to judge those writers only -whom, on the whole, he likes. Love, it was declared, is the -only key to understanding. The obvious value of the -theory to the Silent Bargain accounts for its popularity -with the commercial interests. Now, no one can quarrel -with the criticism of appreciation—it is full of charm and -service; but to pretend that it should be the only criticism -is impertinent and vain. To detect the frivolity of such a -pretension, one has only to apply it to public affairs; -imagine a political campaign in which the candidates were -criticised only by their friends! No; the critic should -attack whatever he thinks is bad, and he is quite as likely -to be right when he does so as when he applauds what he -thinks is good. In a task wherein the interest of the public -is the one that every time and all the time should be served, -mercy to the author is practically always a betrayal. To -the public, neither the vanity nor the purse of the author -is of the slightest consequence. Indeed, a criticism powerful -enough to curb the conceit of some authors, and to -make writing wholly unprofitable to others, would be an -advantage to the public, to really meritorious authors, and -to the publisher.</p> - -<p class='c010'>And the publisher—to consider his interests again for -a moment—would gain not merely by the suppression of -useless, but by the discipline of spoiled, writers. For the -Silent Bargain so works as to give to many an author an -exaggerated idea of his importance. It leads the publisher -himself—what with his complaisant reviewers, his literary -<span class='pageno' id='Page_209'>209</span>notes, his personal paragraphs, his widely distributed -photographs—to do all that he can to turn the author’s -head. Sometimes he succeeds. When the spoiled writer, -taking all this <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">au grand sérieux</span></i>, asks why sales are not -larger, then how hard is the publisher pressed for an answer! -If the author chooses to believe, not the private but -the public statement of his merit, and bases upon it either -a criticism of his publisher’s energy or a demand for further -publishing favors,—increase of advertising, higher royalties, -what not,—the publisher is in a ridiculous and rather -troublesome quandary. None but the initiated know what -he has occasionally to endure from the arrogance of certain -writers. Here fearless criticism should help him much.</p> - -<p class='c010'>But if the conceit of some authors offends, the sensitiveness -of others awakens sympathy. The author does his -work in solitude; his material is his own soul; his anxiety -about a commercial venture is complicated with the apprehension -of the recluse who comes forth into the market-place -with his heart upon his sleeve. Instinctively he -knows that, as his book is himself, or at least a fragment -of himself, criticism of it is truly criticism of him, not of -his intellectual ability merely, but of his essential character, -his real value as a man. Let no one laugh until he has -heard and survived the most intimate, the least friendly -comment upon his own gifts and traits, made in public for -the delectation of his friends and acquaintances and of the -world at large. Forgivably enough, the author is of all -persons the one most likely to be unjust to critics and to -criticism. In all ages he has made bitter counter-charges, -and flayed the critics as they have flayed him. His principal -complaints are three: first, that all critics are disappointed -authors; second, that many are young and incompetent, -or simply incompetent; third, that they do not -agree. Let us consider them in turn.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_210'>210</span>Although various critics write with success other things -than criticism, the first complaint is based, I believe, upon -what is generally a fact. It carries two implications: the -first, that one cannot competently judge a task which he -is unable to perform himself; the second, that the disappointed -author is blinded by jealousy. As to the first, no -writer ever refrained out of deference to it from criticising, -or even discharging, his cook. As to the second, jealousy -does not always blind: sometimes it gives keenness of vision. -The disappointed author turned critic may indeed -be incompetent; but, if he is so, it is for reasons that his -disappointment does not supply. If he is able, his disappointment -will, on the contrary, help his criticism. He -will have a wholesome contempt for facile success; he will -measure by exacting standards. Moreover, the thoughts -of a talented man about an art for the attainment of which -he has striven to the point of despair are certain to be -valuable; his study of the masters has been intense; his -study of his contemporaries has had the keenness of an -ambitious search for the key to success. His criticism, -even if saturated with envy, will have value. In spite of -all that partisans of sympathetic criticism may say, hatred -and malice may give as much insight into character as -love. Sainte-Beuve was a disappointed author, jealous of -the success of others.</p> - -<p class='c010'>But ability is necessary. Envy and malice, not reinforced -by talent, can win themselves small satisfaction, -and do no more than transient harm; for then they work -at random and make wild and senseless charges. To be -dangerous to the author, to be valuable to the public, to -give pleasure to their possessor, they must be backed by -acuteness to perceive and judgment to proclaim real flaws -only. The disappointed critic of ability knows that the -truth is what stings, and if he seeks disagreeable truth, at -<span class='pageno' id='Page_211'>211</span>least he seeks truth. He knows also that continual vituperation -is as dull as continual praise; if only to give relief -to his censure, he will note what is good. He will mix -honey with the gall. So long as he speaks truth, he does -a useful work, and his motives are of no consequence to -any one but himself. Even if he speaks it with unnecessary -roughness, the author cannot legitimately complain. -Did he suppose that he was sending his book into a world -of gentlemen only? Truth is truth, and a boor may have -it. That the standard of courtesy is sometimes hard to -square with that of perfect sincerity is the dilemma of the -critic; but the author can quarrel with the fact no more -than with the circumstance that in a noisy world he can -write best where there is quiet. If he suffers, let him sift -criticism through his family; consoling himself, meanwhile, -with the reflection that there is criticism of criticism, -and that any important critic will ultimately know his -pains. Leslie Stephen was so sensitive that he rarely read -reviews of his critical writings. After all, the critic is also -an author.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The second complaint of writers, that criticism is largely -young and incompetent,—or merely incompetent,—is -well founded. The reason lies in the general preference of -publishers for criticism that is laudatory even if absurd. -Again we meet the Silent Bargain. The commercial publisher -of book-reviews, realizing that any fool can praise a -book, is apt to increase his profits by lowering the wage of -his critic. At its extreme point, his thrift requires a reviewer -of small brains and less moral courage; such a man -costs less and is unlikely ever to speak with offensive frankness. -Thus it happens that, commonly in the newspapers -and frequently in periodicals of some literary pretension, -the writers of reviews are shiftless literary hacks, shallow, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_212'>212</span>sentimental women, or crude young persons full of indiscriminate -enthusiasm for all printed matter.</p> - -<p class='c010'>I spoke of the magazines. When their editors say that -literary papers are not popular, do they consider what -writers they admit to the work, with what payment they -tempt the really competent, what limitations they impose -upon sincerity? Do they not really mean that the amiable -in manner or the remote in subject, which alone they consider -expedient, is not popular? Do they really believe -that a brilliant writer, neither a dilettante nor a Germanized -scholar, uttering with fire and conviction his full belief, -would not interest the public? Do they doubt that -such a writer could be found, if sought? The reviews which -they do print are not popular; but that proves nothing in -respect of better reviews. Whatever the apparent limitations -of criticism, it actually takes the universe for its -province. In subject it is as protean as life itself; in manner -it may be what you will. To say, then, that neither -American writers nor American readers can be found for it -is to accuse the nation of a poverty of intellect so great as -to be incredible. No; commercial timidity, aiming always -to produce a magazine so inoffensive as to insinuate itself -into universal tolerance, is the fundamental cause of the -unpopularity of the average critical article; how can the -public fail to be indifferent to what lacks life, appositeness -to daily needs, conviction, intellectual and moral candor? -At least one reason why we have no Brunetière is -that there is almost no periodical in which such a man may -write.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In the actual, not the possible, writers of our criticism -there is, in the lower ranks, a lack of skill, of seriousness, -of reasonable competence, and a cynical acceptance of the -dishonest rôle they are expected to play; in the higher -ranks, there is a lack of any vital message, a desire rather -<span class='pageno' id='Page_213'>213</span>to win, without offending the publisher, the approval of -the ultra-literary and the scholarly, than really to reach -and teach the public. It is this degradation, this lack of -earnestness, and not lack of inherent interest in the general -topic, which makes our critical work unpopular, and -deprives the whole literary industry of that quickening and -increase of public interest from which alone can spring a -vigorous and healthy growth. This feebleness will begin -to vanish the moment that the publishers of books, who -support criticism, say peremptorily that reviews that interest, -not reviews that puff, are what they want. When -they say this, that is the kind of reviews they will get. If -that criticism indeed prove interesting, it will then be -printed up to the value of the buying power of the public, -and it will be supported where it should be—not by the -publisher but by the people. It is said in excuse that, as -a city has the government, so the public has the criticism, -which it deserves. That is debatable; but, even so, to -whose interest is it that the taste of the public should be -improved? Honest criticism addressed to the public, by -writers who study how to interest it rather than how to -flatter the producers of books, would educate. The education -of readers, always the soundest investment of the publisher, -can never be given by servile reviewers feebly echoing -his own interested advertisements. They are of no -value—to the public, the publisher, or the author.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The publisher of a newspaper of which reviews are an -incident need not, however, wait for the signal. If, acting -on the assumption that his duty is, not to the publisher but -to the public, he will summon competent and earnest reviewers -to speak the truth as they see it, he will infallibly -increase the vivacity and interest of his articles and the -pleasure and confidence of his readers. He will not have -any permanent loss of advertising. Whenever he establishes -<span class='pageno' id='Page_214'>214</span>his periodical as one read by lovers of literature, he -has the publishers at his mercy. But suppose that his -advertising decreases? Let him not make the common -mistake of measuring the value of a department by the -amount of related advertising that it attracts. The general -excellence of his paper as an advertising medium—supposing -he has no aim beyond profit—is what he should -seek. The public which reads and enjoys books is worth -attracting, even if the publisher does not follow, for it buys -other things than books.</p> - -<p class='c010'>If, however, his newspaper is not one that can please -people of literary tastes, he will get book-advertising only -in negligible quantities no matter how much he may praise -the volumes sent him. Of what use are puffs which fall -not under the right eyes?</p> - -<p class='c010'>If, again, his periodical seems an exception to this reasoning, -and his puffery appears to bring him profit, let him -consider the parts of it unrelated to literature; he will find -there matter which pleases readers of intelligence, and he -may be sure that this, quite as much as his praise, is what -brings the publishers’ advertisements; he may be sure that, -should he substitute sincere criticism, the advertisements -would increase.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>III</h3> - -<p class='c013'>The third complaint of the author—from whom I have -wandered—is that critics do not agree. To argue that -whenever two critics hold different opinions, the criticism -of one of them must be valueless, is absurd. The immediate -question is, valueless to whom—to the public or to -the author?</p> - -<p class='c010'>If the author is meant, the argument assumes that criticism -is written for the instruction of the author, which is -not true. Grammar and facts a critic can indeed correct; -<span class='pageno' id='Page_215'>215</span>but he never expects to change an author’s style or make -his talent other than it is. Though he may lash the man, -he does not hope to reform him. However slightly acquainted -with psychology, the critic knows that a mature -writer does not change and cannot change; his character -is made, his gifts, such as they are, are what they are. On -the contrary, the critic writes to influence the public—to -inform the old, to train the young. He knows that his -chief chance is with plastic youth; he hopes to form the -future writer; still more he hopes to form the future reader. -He knows that the effect of good reviewing stops not with -the books reviewed, but influences the reader’s choice -among thousands of volumes as yet undreamed of by any -publisher.</p> - -<p class='c010'>If, on the other hand, the public is meant, the argument -assumes that one man’s meat is not another man’s poison. -The bird prefers seed, and the dog a bone, and there is no -standard animal food. Nor, likewise, is there any standard -intellectual food: both critics, however they disagree, may -be right.</p> - -<p class='c010'>No author, no publisher, should think that variety invalidates -criticism. If there is any certainty about critics, -it is that they will not think alike. The sum of <em>x</em> (a certain -book) plus <em>y</em> (a certain critic) can never be the same as <em>x</em> -(the same book) plus <em>z</em> (a different critic). A given book -cannot affect a man of a particular ability, temperament, -training, as it affects one of a different ability, temperament, -and training. A book is never complete without a -reader, and the value of the combination is all that can be -found out. For the value of a book is varying: it varies -with the period, with the nationality, with the character of -the reader. Shakespeare had one value for the Elizabethans; -he has a different value for us, and still another -for the Frenchman; he has a special value for the playgoer, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_216'>216</span>and a special value for the student in his closet. In -respect of literary art, pragmatism is right: there is no -truth, there are truths. About all vital writing there is a -new truth born with each new reader. Therein lies the -unending fascination of books, the temptation to infinite -discussion. To awaken an immortal curiosity is the glory -of genius.</p> - -<p class='c010'>From all this it follows that critics are representative; -each one stands for a group of people whose spokesman he -has become, because he has, on the whole, their training, -birth from their class, the prejudices of their community -and of their special group in that community, and therefore -expresses their ideals. Once let publisher and author -grasp this idea, and criticism, however divergent, will come -to have a vital meaning for them. The publisher can learn -from the judgment of the critic what the judgment of his -group in the community is likely to be, and from a succession -of such judgments through a term of years, he can -gain valuable information as to the needs, the tastes, the -ideals of the public, or of the group of publics, which he -may wish to serve. Accurate information straight from -writers serving the public—that, I cannot too often repeat, -is worth more to him than any amount of obsequious -praise. That precisely is what he cannot get until all -critics are what they should be—lawyers whose only -clients are their own convictions.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The author also gains. Although he is always liable to -the disappointment of finding that his book has failed to -accomplish his aim, he nevertheless can draw the sting from -much adverse criticism if he will regard, not its face value, -but its representative value. He is writing for a certain -audience; the criticism of that audience only, then, need -count. If he has his own public with him, he is as safe as -a man on an island viewing a storm at sea, no matter how -<span class='pageno' id='Page_217'>217</span>critics representing other publics may rage. Not all the -adverse comment in this country on E. P. Roe, in England -on Ouida, in France on Georges Ohnet ever cost them -a single reader. Their audience heard it not; it did not -count. There is, of course, a difference of value in publics, -and if these writers had a tragedy, it lay in their not winning -the audience of their choice. But this does not disturb -the statement as to the vanity of adverse criticism -for an author who hears objurgations from people whom -he did not seek to please. Sometimes, indeed, such objurgations -flatter. If, for example, the author has written a -novel which is in effect an attempt to batter down ancient -prejudice, nothing should please him more than to hear the -angry protests of the conservative—they may be the -shrieks of the dying, as was the case, for instance, when -Dr. Holmes wrote the <cite>Autocrat</cite>; they show, at any rate, -that the book has hit.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Now, each in its degree, every work of art is controversial -and cannot help being so until men are turned out, like -lead soldiers, from a common mould. Every novel, for -example, even when not written “with a purpose,” has -many theories behind it—a theory as to its proper construction, -a theory as to its proper content, a theory of life. -Every one is a legitimate object of attack, and in public or -private is certain to be attacked. Does the author prefer -to be fought in the open or stabbed in the dark?—that is -really his only choice. The author of a novel, a poem, an -essay, or a play should think of it as a new idea, or a new -embodiment of an idea, which is bound to hurtle against -others dear to their possessors. He should remember that -a book that arouses no discussion is a poor, dead thing. -Let him cultivate the power of analysis, and seek from his -critics, not praise, but knowledge of what, precisely, he -has done. If he has sought to please, he can learn what -<span class='pageno' id='Page_218'>218</span>social groups he has charmed, what groups he has failed -to interest, and why, and may make a new effort with a -better chance of success. If he has sought to prevail, he -can learn whether his blows have told, and, what is more -important, upon whom. In either case, to know the nature -of his general task, he must learn three things: whom his -book has affected, how much it has affected them, and in -what way it has affected them. Only through honest, -widespread, really representative criticism, can the author -know these things.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Whatever their individual hurts, the publisher of books, -the publisher of book-reviews, and the author should recognize -that the entire sincerity of criticism, which is the condition -of its value to the public, is also the condition of its -value to them. It is a friend whose wounds are faithful. -The lesson that they must learn is this: an honest man -giving an honest opinion is a respectable person, and if he -has any literary gift at all, a forcible writer. What he says -is read, and, what is more, it is trusted. If he has cultivation -enough to maintain himself as a critic,—as many of -those now writing have not, once servility ceases to be a -merit,—he acquires a following upon whom his influence -is deep and real, and upon whom, in the measure of his -capacity, he exerts an educational force. If to honesty he -adds real scholarship, sound taste, and vivacity as a writer, -he becomes a leading critic, and his influence for good is -proportionally enlarged. If there were honest critics with -ability enough to satisfy the particular readers they served -in every periodical now printing literary criticism, public -interest in reviews, and consequently in books, would -greatly increase. And public interest and confidence once -won, the standing, and with it the profit, of the four groups -commercially interested in literature would infallibly rise. -This is the condition which all four should work to create.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_219'>219</span>Would it arrive if the publisher of books should repudiate -the Silent Bargain? If he should send with the book for -review, not the usual ready-made puff, but a card requesting -only the favor of a sincere opinion; if, furthermore, he -showed his good faith by placing his advertisements where -the quality of the reviewing was best, would the critical -millennium come? It would not. I have made the convenient -assumption that the critic needs only permission -to be sincere. Inevitable victim of the Silent Bargain he -may be, but he is human and will not be good simply -because he has the chance. But he would be better than -he is—if for no other reason than because many of his -temptations would be removed. The new conditions would -at once and automatically change the direction of his personal -interests. He and his publisher would need to interest -the public. Public service would be the condition of -his continuing critic at all. He would become the agent, -not of the publisher to the public, but of the public to the -publisher. And although then, as now in criticism of -political affairs, insincere men would sacrifice their standards -to their popularity, they would still reflect public -opinion. To know what really is popular opinion is the -first step toward making it better. Accurately to know it -is of the first commercial importance for publisher and -author, of the first public importance for the effective -leaders of public opinion.</p> - -<p class='c010'>This new goal of criticism—the desire to attract the -public—would have other advantages. It would diminish -the amount of criticism. One of the worst effects of the -Silent Bargain is the obligation of the reviewer to notice -every book that is sent him—not because it interests him, -not because it will interest his public, but to satisfy the -publisher. Thus it happens that many a newspaper spreads -before its readers scores upon scores of perfunctory reviews -<span class='pageno' id='Page_220'>220</span>in which are hopelessly concealed those few written with -pleasure, those few which would be welcome to its public. -Tired by the mere sight, readers turn hopelessly away. -Now, many books lack interest for any one; of those that -remain, many lack interest for readers of a particular publication. -Suppose a reviewer, preoccupied, not with the -publisher, but with his own public, confronted by the annual -mass of books: ask yourself what he would naturally -do. He would notice, would he not, those books only in -which he thought that he could interest his readers? He -would warn his public against books which would disappoint -them; he would take pleasure in praising books which -would please them. The glow of personal interest would -be in what he wrote, and, partly for this reason, partly -because the reviews would be few, his public would read -them. Herein, again, the publisher would gain; conspicuous -notices of the right books would go to the right people. -An automatic sifting and sorting of his publications, like -that done by the machines which grade fruit, sending each -size into its appropriate pocket, would take place.</p> - -<p class='c010'>But the greatest gain to criticism remains to be pointed -out. The critics who have chosen silence, rather than submission -to the Silent Bargain, would have a chance to -write. They are the best critics, and when they resume the -pen, the whole industry of writing will gain.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>IV</h3> - -<p class='c013'>But the critic, though liberated, has many hard questions -to decide, many subtle temptations to resist. There -is the question of his motives, which I said are of no consequence -to the author or to the public so long as what he -speaks is truth; but which, I must now add, are of great -consequence to him. If he feels envy and malice, he must -<span class='pageno' id='Page_221'>221</span>not cherish them as passions to be gratified, but use them, -if at all, as dangerous tools. He must be sure that his ruling -passion is love of good work—a love strong enough to -make him proclaim it, though done by his worst enemy. -There is the question again of his own limitations; he must -be on his guard lest they lead him into injustice, and yet -never so timid that he fails to say what he thinks, for fear -it may be wrong.</p> - -<p class='c010'>I speak of these things from the point of view of the -critic’s duty to himself; but they are a part also of his duty -towards his neighbor, the author. What that duty may -precisely be, is his most difficult problem. A few things -only are plain. He ought to say as much against a friend -as against an enemy, as much against a publisher whom -he knows as against a publisher of England or France. He -must dare to give pain. He must make his own the ideals -of Sarcey. “I love the theatre,” he wrote to Zola, “with -so absolute a devotion that I sacrifice everything, even my -particular friends, even, what is much more difficult, my -particular enemies, to the pleasure of pushing the public -towards the play which I consider good, and of keeping it -away from the play which I consider bad.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>That perhaps was comparatively easy for Sarcey with -his clear ideal of the well-made piece; it is perhaps easy in -the simple, straightforward appraisal of the ordinary book; -but the critic may be excused if he feels compunctions and -timidities when the task grows more complex, when, arming -himself more and more with the weapons of psychology, -he seeks his explanations of a given work where undoubtedly -they lie, in the circumstances, the passions, the brains, -the very disorders of the author. How far in this path may -he go? Unquestionably, he may go far, very far with the -not too recent dead; but with the living how far may he -go, how daring may he make his guess? For guess it will -<span class='pageno' id='Page_222'>222</span>be, since his knowledge, if not his competence, will be incomplete -until memoirs, letters, diaries, reminiscences -bring him their enlightenment. One thinks first what the -author may suffer when violent hands are laid upon his -soul, and one recoils; but what of the public? Must the -public, then, not know its contemporaries just as far as it -can—these contemporaries whose strong influence for -good or evil it is bound to undergo? These have full -license to play upon the public; shall not the public, in its -turn, be free to scrutinize to any, the most intimate extent, -the human stuff from which emanates the strong influence -which it feels? If the public good justifies dissection, does -it not also justify vivisection? Is literature an amusement -only, or is it a living force which on public grounds the -critic has every right in all ways to measure? Doubtless -his right in the particular case may be tested by the importance -of the answer to the people, yet the grave delicacy -of this test—which the critic must apply himself—is -equaled only by the ticklishness of the task. Yet there -lies the path of truth, serviceable, ever honorable truth.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The critic is, in fact, confronted by two standards. Now -and again he must make the choice between admirable -conduct and admirable criticism. They are not the same. -It is obvious that what is outrageous conduct may be -admirable criticism, that what is admirable conduct may -be inferior, shuffling criticism. Which should he choose? -If we make duty to the public the test, logic seems to -require that he should abate no jot of his critical message. -It certainly seems hard that he should be held to a double -(and contradictory) standard when others set in face of a -like dilemma are held excused. The priest is upheld in not -revealing the secrets of the confessional, the lawyer in not -betraying the secret guilt of his client, although as a citizen -each should prefer the public to the individual; whereas -<span class='pageno' id='Page_223'>223</span>the critic who, reversing the case, sacrifices the individual -to the public, is condemned. The public should recognize, -I think, his right to a special code like that accorded the -priest, the lawyer, the soldier, the physician. He should -be relieved of certain social penalties, fear of which may -cramp his freedom and so lessen his value. Who cannot -easily see that a critic may write from the highest sense of -duty words which would make him the “no gentleman” -that Cousin said Sainte-Beuve was?</p> - -<p class='c010'>But the whole question is thorny; that writer will do an -excellent service to letters who shall speak an authoritative -word upon the ethics of criticism. At present, there -is nothing—except the law of libel. The question is -raised here merely to the end of asking these further questions: -Would not the greatest freedom help rather than -hurt the cause of literature? Is not the double standard -too dangerous a weapon to be allowed to remain in the -hands of the upholders of the Silent Bargain?</p> - -<p class='c009'>Meanwhile —until the problem is solved —the critic -must be an explorer of untraveled ethical paths. Let him -be bold whether he is a critic of the deeds of the man of -action, or of those subtler but no less real deeds, the words -of an author! For, the necessary qualifications made, all -that has been said of literary criticism applies to all criticism—everywhere -there is a Silent Bargain to be fought, -everywhere honest opinion has powerful foes.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The thing to do for each author of words or of deeds, -each critic of one or the other, is to bring his own pebble -of conviction however rough and sharp-cornered and -throw it into that stream of discussion which will roll and -grind it against others, and finally make of it and of them -that powder of soil in which, let us hope, future men will -raise the crop called truth.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_224'>224</span> - <h2 class='c008'>DRAMATIC CRITICISM IN THE AMERICAN PRESS</h2> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c005'> - <div>BY JAMES S. METCALFE</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>A little insight into the practical conditions which surround -newspaper criticism to-day is needed before we can -estimate its value or importance as an institution. Venial -and grossly incompetent critics there have always been, -but these have eventually been limited in their influence -through the inevitable discovery of their defects. They -were and are individual cases, which may be disregarded in -a general view. The question to be considered is, whether -our newspapers have any dramatic criticism worthy of the -name, and, if there is none, what are the causes of its nonexistence.</p> - -<p class='c010'>When the late William Winter lost his position as dramatic -critic of the <cite>New York Tribune</cite>, the event marked not -alone the virtual disappearance from the American press -of dramatic criticism as our fathers knew and appreciated -it: the circumstances of the severance of his half-century’s -connection with that publication also illustrate vividly a -principal reason for the extinction of criticism as it used -to be.</p> - -<p class='c010'>At the time mentioned the <cite>Tribune</cite> had not fallen entirely -from its early estate. It was still a journal for readers -who thought. Its strong political partisanship limited -its circulation, which had been for some time declining. It -had been hurt by the fierce competition of its sensational -and more enterprising contemporaries. The <cite>Tribune</cite> could -not afford to lose any of the advertising revenue which -was essential to its very existence.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_225'>225</span>Mr. Winter would not write to orders. He had certain -prejudices, but they were honest ones, and those who knew -his work were able to discount them in sifting his opinions. -For instance, he had a sturdy hatred for the Ibsen kind of -dissectional drama, and it was practically impossible for -him to do justice even to good acting in plays of this school.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In a broader way he was the enemy of uncleanness on -the stage. For this reason he had frequently denounced a -powerful firm of managers whom he held to be principally -responsible for the, at first insidious and then rapid, growth -of indecency in our theatre. These managers controlled a -large amount of the theatrical advertising. The <cite>Tribune</cite> -frequently printed on one page large advertisements of the -enterprises these men represented, and on another page -they would find themselves described, in Mr. Winter’s -most vigorous English, as panders who were polluting the -theatre and its patrons. They knew the <cite>Tribune’s</cite> weak -financial condition and demanded that Mr. Winter’s pen -be curbed, the alternative being a withdrawal of their -advertising patronage. What happened then was a scandal, -and is history in the newspaper and theatrical world.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mr. Winter refused to be muzzled. In spite of a half-century’s -faithful service, he was practically dismissed -from the staff of the <cite>Tribune</cite>. If it had not been for a -notable benefit performance given for him by artists who -honored him, and generously patronized by his friends and -the public who knew his work, his last days would have -been devoid of comfort.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mr. Winter’s experience, although he is not the only -critic who has lost his means of livelihood through the -influence of the advertising theatrical manager, is in some -form present to the mind of every newspaper writer in the -province of the theatre. No matter how strong the assurance -of his editor that he may go as far as he pleases in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_226'>226</span>telling the truth, he knows that even the editor himself is -in fear of the dread summons from the business office. If -the critic has had any experience in the newspaper business,—no -longer a profession,—he writes what he pleases, -but with his subconscious mind tempering justice with -mercy for the enterprises of the theatrical advertiser. This, -of course, does not preclude his giving a critical tone to -what he writes by finding minor defects and even flaying -unimportant artists. But woe be unto him if he launches -into any general denunciation of theatrical methods, or -attacks the enterprise of the advertising manager in a way -that imperils profits.</p> - -<p class='c010'>There are exceptions to these general statements, especially -outside of New York. There are a few newspapers -left where the editorial conscience outweighs the influence -of the counting-room. Even in these cases the reviewer, if -he is wise, steers clear of telling too much truth about enterprises -whose belligerent managers are only too glad to -worry his employers with complaints of persecution or injustice. -In other places the theatrical advertising is not -of great value, particularly where the moving-picture has -almost supplanted the legitimate theatre. Here we occasionally -find criticism of the old sort, particularly if, in the -local reviewer’s mind, the entertainment offered is not up -to what he considers the Broadway standard of production. -Here the publisher’s regard for local pride will sometimes -excuse the reviewer’s affront to the infrequently visiting -manager and the wares he offers.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Another exception is the purely technical critic who has -no broader concern with the theatre than recording the -impressions which come to him through his eyes, ears, and -memory. He is safe, because he rarely offends. He is -scarce, because he is little read and newspapers cannot -give him the space he requires for analysis and recollection. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_227'>227</span>The high-pressure life of the newspaper reader calls -for a newspaper made under high pressure and for to-day. -In this process there is little opportunity for the display -of the scholarship, leisurely thinking, and carefully evolved -judgments which gave their fame to critics of an earlier -period. In the few remaining survivals of the strictly technical -critic their failure to interest many readers, or exercise -much influence, may argue less a lack of ability on -their part than a change from a thinking to a non-thinking -public. Even in the big Sunday editions of the city dailies, -where the pages are generously padded with text to carry -the displayed theatrical advertising, the attempts to rise to -a higher critical plane than is possible in the hurried weekday -review are in themselves frequent evidence that technical -criticism is a thing of the past so far as the newspapers -are concerned.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The close connection of the business of the newspaper -with the business of the theatre accounts for the practical -disappearance of the element of fearlessness in critical -dealing with the art of the stage, particularly as the business -control of the theatre is largely responsible for whatever -decline we may discern in the art of the theatre. Of -course, if criticism were content to concern itself only -with results, and not to look for causes, the matter of business -interests would figure little in the discussion. But -when the critic dares to go below the surface and discern -commercialism as the main cause of the decline that he -condemns in the art of the stage, he finds himself on dangerous -ground.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The theatre has always had to have its business side. -Actors must live and the accessories of their art must be -provided. To this extent the stage has always catered to -the public. But from the days of the strolling player to -those of the acting-manager the voice from back of the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_228'>228</span>curtain has, until of recent years, had at least as much of -command as that of the ticket-seller. Both in the theatre -and in the press modern conditions have in great measure -thrown the control to the material side; and just as the -artist and dramatist have become subservient to the manager, -the editor and critic have come under the domination -of the publisher.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The need of a greater revenue to house plays and public -has placed the theatre in the hands of those who could -manage to secure that revenue. The same necessity on -the material and mechanical side has put the power of the -press in the hands of those who could best supply its financial -needs. With both theatre and press on a commercial -basis, it follows naturally that the art of acting and the -art of criticism should both decline.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Here we have the main causes that work from the inside -for the deterioration of an art and for the destruction of -the standards by which that art is measured. The outside -causes are, of course, the basic ones, but before we get to -them we must understand the connecting links which join -the cause to the effect. To-day we certainly have no -Hazlitts or Sarceys writing for the American press. It -might be enlightening with respect to present conditions -to consider the probabilities and circumstances of their -employment if they were here and in the flesh. Can any -one conceive of an American newspaper giving space to -Hazlitt’s work, even if he treated of the things of to-day? -Even if he wrote his opinions gratis and in the form of -letters to the editor, it would presumably be indeed a dull -journalistic day when room could be found for them.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Sarcey, writing in the lighter French vein and being -almost as much a chroniqueur as a critic, might possibly -have found opportunity to be read in an American newspaper, -if he could have curbed his independence of thought. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_229'>229</span>Starting from obscurity, it is a question whether he would -ever have been able to gain opportunity to be read simply -as a critic, for the processes by which newspaper critics are -created or evolved seem to have nothing to do with the -possession of education, training, or ability. In the majority -of newspaper offices the function of dramatic critic devolves -by chance or convenience, and frequently goes by -favoritism to some member of the staff with a fondness for -the theatre and an appreciation of free seats. One of New -York’s best known dailies frankly treats theatrical reviewing -as nothing more than reportorial work, to be covered -as would be any other news assignment. This publication -and a good many others are far more particular about the -technical equipment of the writers who describe baseball -games, horse-races, and prize-fights, than about the fitness -of those who are to weigh the merits of plays and acting. -The ability to write without offending the advertising -theatrical manager seems in the last case to be the only -absolutely essential qualification.</p> - -<p class='c010'>With these things in mind it will be seen that there is -little to tempt any one with ambition to contemplate -dramatic criticism as a possible profession. The uncertainty -of employment, the slenderness of return, and the -limitations on freedom of expression would keep even the -most ardent lover of the theatre from thinking of criticism -as a life occupation. Given the education, the experience, -the needed judicial temperament, and the writing ability, -all these are no assurance that opportunity can be found -to utilize them.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Of themselves, the conditions that surround the calling -of the critic are enough to account for the absence from -the American newspapers of authoritative criticism. These -conditions might be overcome if the spirit of the times -demanded. But there can be no such demand so long as -<span class='pageno' id='Page_230'>230</span>the press finds it more profitable to reflect the moods, -thoughts, and opinions of the public than to lead and direct -them. When the changed conditions of producing newspapers -transferred the control of their policy from the editorial -rooms to the counting-rooms, the expression of -opinion on any subject became of little value compared -with catering to the popular love of sensation and the popular -interest in the trivial.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The change does not mean that there is any ignoring of -the theatre in the newspapers. The institution lends itself -admirably to modern newspaper exploitation. Destroying -the fascinating mystery which once shrouded life back of -the curtain, for a long time made good copy for the press. -There is no longer any mystery, because the great space -that the newspapers devote to gossip of the theatre and -its people has flooded with publicity every corner of the -institution and every event of their lives. The process has -been aided by managers through a perhaps mistaken idea -of the value of the advertising, and by artists for that -reason and for its appeal to their vanity.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Criticism has no place in publicity of this sort, because -criticism concerns itself only with the art and the broad -interests of the theatre. The news reporter is often better -qualified to describe the milk-baths of a stage notoriety -than is the ablest critic. With our newspapers as they are, -and with our public as it is, the reportorial account of the -milk-bath is of more value to the newspaper and its readers -than the most brilliant criticism that could be written of -an important event in the art of the theatre.</p> - -<p class='c010'>With “give the people what they want” the prevailing -law of press and theatre, it is idle just now to look for -dramatic criticism of value in our newspapers. We may -flatter ourselves that as a people we have a real interest in -theatrical and other arts. We can prove it by the vast -<span class='pageno' id='Page_231'>231</span>sums we spend on theatres, music, and pictures. With all -our proof, we at heart know that this is not true. Even -in the more sensual art of music we import our standards, -in pictures we are governed more by cost than quality, and -in the theatre—note where most of our expenditure goes. -In that institution, with the creation of whose standards -we are concerning ourselves just now, consider the character -of what are called “popular successes,” and observe the -short shrift given to most of the efforts which call for enjoyment -of the finer art of the stage through recognition -of that art when it is displayed.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It is no disgrace that we are not an artistic people. Our -accomplishments and our interests are in other fields, -where we more than match the achievements of older -civilizations. With us the theatre is not an institution to -which we turn for its literature and its interpretations of -character. We avoid it when it makes any demand on -our thinking powers. We turn to it as a relaxation from -the use of those powers in more material directions. We -do not wish to study our stage, its methods and its products. -We ask it only to divert us. This is the general -attitude of the American to the theatre, and the exceptions -are few.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In these conditions it is not strange that we have no -scholarly critics to help in establishing standards for our -theatre, or that there is little demand for real criticism, -least of all in the daily press. As we grow to be an older -and more leisurely country, when our masses cease to find -in the crudities of the moving-picture their ideal of the -drama, and when our own judgments become more refined, -we shall need the real critic, and even the daily press will -find room for his criticisms and reward for his experience, -ability, and judgment.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The province and profit of our newspapers lie in interesting -<span class='pageno' id='Page_232'>232</span>their readers. Analysis of artistic endeavor is not -interesting to a people who have scant time and little inclination -for any but practical and diverting things. Until -the people demand it and the conditions that surround the -critic improve, what passes for criticism in our daily press -is not likely to increase in quantity or improve in quality.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_233'>233</span> - <h2 class='c008'>THE HUMOR OF THE COLORED SUPPLEMENT</h2> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c005'> - <div>BY RALPH BERGENGREN</div> - </div> -</div> - -<h3 class='c012'>I</h3> - -<p class='c013'>Ten or a dozen years ago,—the exact date is here -immaterial,—an enterprising newspaper publisher conceived -the idea of appealing to what is known as the -American “sense of humor” by printing a so-called comic -supplement in colors. He chose Sunday as of all days the -most lacking in popular amusements, carefully restricted -himself to pictures without humor and color without -beauty, and presently inaugurated a new era in American -journalism. The colored supplement became an institution. -No Sunday is complete without it—not because -its pages invariably delight, but because, like flies in summer, -there is no screen that will altogether exclude them. -A newspaper without a color press hardly considers itself a -newspaper, and the smaller journals are utterly unmindful -of the kindness of Providence in putting the guardian angel, -Poverty, outside their portals. Sometimes, indeed, they -think to outwit this kindly interference by printing a syndicated -comic page without color; and mercy is thus served -in a half portion, for, uncolored, the pictures are inevitably -about twice as attractive. Some print them without color, -but on pink paper. Others rejoice, as best they may, in a -press that will reproduce at least a fraction of the original -discord. One and all they unite vigorously, as if driven by -a perverse and cynical intention, to prove the American -sense of humor a thing of national shame and degradation. -Fortunately the public has so little to say about its reading -matter that one may fairly suspend judgment.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_234'>234</span>For, after all, what is the sense of humor upon which -every man prides himself, as belonging only to a gifted -minority? Nothing more nor less than a certain mental -quickness, alert to catch the point of an anecdote or to -appreciate the surprise of a new and unexpected point of -view toward an old and familiar phenomenon. Add together -these gifted minorities, and each nation reaches -what is fallaciously termed the national sense of humor—an -English word, incidentally, for which D’Israeli was -unable to find an equivalent in any other language, and -which is in itself simply a natural development of the -critical faculty, born of a present need of describing what -earlier ages had taken for granted. The jovial porter and -his charming chance acquaintances, the three ladies of -Bagdad, enlivened conversation with a kind of humor, -carefully removed from the translation of commerce and -the public libraries, for which they needed no descriptive -noun, but which may nevertheless be fairly taken as typical -of that city in the day of the Caliph Haroun.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The Middle Ages rejoiced in a similar form of persiflage, -and the present day in France, Germany, England, or -America, for example, inherits it,—minus its too juvenile -indecency,—in the kind of pleasure afforded by these -comic supplements. Their kinship with the lower publications -of European countries is curiously evident to whoever -has examined them. Vulgarity, in fact, speaks the -same tongue in all countries, talks, even in art-ruled -France, with the same crude draughtsmanship, and usurps -universally a province that Emerson declared “far better -than wit for a poet or writer.” In its expression and enjoyment -no country can fairly claim the dubious superiority. -All are on the dead level of that surprising moment -when the savage had ceased to be dignified and man had -not yet become rational. Men, indeed, speak freely and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_235'>235</span>vain-gloriously of their national sense of humor; but they -are usually unconscious idealists. For the comic cut that -amuses the most stupid Englishman may be shifted entire -into an American comic supplement; the “catastrophe -joke” of the American comic weekly of the next higher -grade is stolen in quantity to delight the readers of similar -but more economical publications in Germany; the lower -humor of France, barring the expurgations demanded by -Anglo-Saxon prudery, is equally transferable; and the -average American often examines on Sunday morning, -without knowing it, an international loan-exhibit.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Humor, in other words, is cosmopolitan, reduced, since -usage insists on reducing it, at this lowest imaginable level, -to such obvious and universal elements that any intellect -can grasp their combinations. And at its highest it is -again cosmopolitan, like art; like art, a cultivated characteristic, -no more spontaneously natural than a “love of -nature.” It is an insult to the whole line of English and -American humorists—Sterne, Thackeray, Dickens, Meredith, -Twain, Holmes, Irving, and others of a distinguished -company—to include as humor what is merely the crude -brutality of human nature, mocking at grief and laughing -boisterously at physical deformity. And in these Sunday -comics Humor, stolen by vandals from her honest, if sometimes -rough-and-ready, companionship, thrusts a woe-be-gone -visage from the painted canvas of the national -side-show, and none too poor to “shy a brick” at her.</p> - -<p class='c010'>At no period in the world’s history has there been a -steadier output of so-called humor—especially in this -country. The simple idea of printing a page of comic -pictures has produced families. The very element of variety -has been obliterated by the creation of types: a confusing -medley of impossible countrymen, mules, goats, German-Americans -and their irreverent progeny, specialized -<span class='pageno' id='Page_236'>236</span>children with a genius for annoying their elders, white-whiskered -elders with a genius for playing practical jokes -on their grandchildren, policemen, Chinamen, Irishmen, -negroes, inhuman conceptions of the genus tramp, boy -inventors whose inventions invariably end in causing somebody -to be mirthfully spattered with paint or joyously -torn to pieces by machinery, bright boys with a talent for -deceit, laziness, or cruelty, and even the beasts of the -jungle dehumanized to the point of practical joking. -<i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">Mirabile dictu!</span></i>—some of these things have even been -dramatized.</p> - -<p class='c010'>With each type the reader is expected to become personally -acquainted,—to watch for its coming on Sunday -mornings, happily wondering with what form of inhumanity -the author will have been able to endow his brainless -manikins. And the authors are often men of intelligence, -capable here and there of a bit of adequate drawing and -an idea that is honestly and self-respectingly provocative -of laughter. Doubtless they are often ashamed of their -product; but the demand of the hour is imperative. The -presses are waiting. They, too, are both quick and heavy. -And the cry of the publisher is for “fun” that no intellect -in all his heterogeneous public shall be too dull to appreciate. -We see, indeed, the outward manifestation of a -curious paradox: humor prepared and printed for the -extremely dull, and—what is still more remarkable—excused -by grown men, capable of editing newspapers, on -the ground that it gives pleasure to children.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Reduced to first principles, therefore, it is not humor, -but simply a supply created in answer to a demand, hastily -produced by machine methods and hastily accepted by -editors too busy with other editorial duties to examine it -intelligently. Under these conditions “humor” is naturally -conceived as something preëminently quick; and so -<span class='pageno' id='Page_237'>237</span>quickness predominates. Somebody is always hitting -somebody else with a club; somebody is always falling -downstairs, or out of a balloon, or over a cliff, or into a -river, a barrel of paint, a basket of eggs, a convenient cistern, -or a tub of hot water. The comic cartoonists have -already exhausted every available substance into which one -can fall, and are compelled to fall themselves into a veritable -ocean of vain repetition. They have exhausted everything -by which one can be blown up. They have exhausted -everything by which one can be knocked down or run over. -And if the victim is never actually killed in these mirthful -experiments, it is obviously because he would then cease -to be funny—which is very much the point of view of the -Spanish Inquisition, the cat with a mouse, or the American -Indian with a captive. But respect for property, respect -for parents, for law, for decency, for truth, for beauty, for -kindliness, for dignity, or for honor, are killed, without -mercy. Morality alone, in its restricted sense of sexual -relations, is treated with courtesy, although we find -throughout the accepted theory that marriage is a union -of uncongenial spirits, and the chart of petty marital deceit -is carefully laid out and marked for whoever is likely to -respond to endless unconscious suggestions. Sadly must -the American child sometimes be puzzled while comparing -his own grandmother with the visiting mother-in-law of -the colored comic.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>II</h3> - -<p class='c013'>Lest this seem a harsh, even an unkind inquiry into the -innocent amusements of other people, a few instances may -be mentioned, drawn from the Easter Sunday output of -papers otherwise both respectable and unrespectable; -papers, moreover, depending largely on syndicated humor -that may fairly be said to have reached a total circulation -<span class='pageno' id='Page_238'>238</span>of several million readers. We have, to begin with, two -rival versions of a creation that made the originator famous, -and that chronicle the adventures of a small boy -whose name and features are everywhere familiar. Often -these adventures, in the original youngster, have been -amusing, and amusingly seasoned with the salt of legitimately -absurd phraseology. But the pace is too fast, even -for the originator. The imitator fails invariably to catch -the spirit of them, and in this instance is driven to an ancient -subterfuge.</p> - -<p class='c010'>To come briefly to an unpleasant point: an entire page -is devoted to showing the reader how the boy was made -ill by smoking his father’s cigars. Incidentally he falls -downstairs. Meanwhile, his twin is rejoicing the readers -of another comic supplement by spoiling a wedding -party; it is the minister who first comes to grief, and is -stood on his head, the boy who, later, is quite properly -thrashed by an angry mother—and it is all presumably -very delightful and a fine example for the imitative genius -of other children. Further, we meet a mule who kicks a -policeman and whose owner is led away to the lockup; a -manicured vacuum who slips on a banana peel, crushes the -box containing his fiancée’s Easter bonnet, and is assaulted -by her father (he, after the manner of comic fathers, having -just paid one hundred dollars for the bonnet out of a -plethoric pocketbook); a nondescript creature, presumably -human, who slips on another banana peel and knocks over -a citizen, who in turn knocks over a policeman, and is also -marched off to undeserved punishment. We see the German-American -child covering his father with water from -a street gutter; another child deluging his parent with -water from a hose; another teasing his younger brother -and sister. To keep the humor of the banana peel in -countenance, we find the picture of a fat man accidentally -<span class='pageno' id='Page_239'>239</span>sitting down on a tack; he exclaims, “Ouch!” throws a -basket of eggs into the air, and they come down on the -head of the boy who arranged the tacks. We see two white -boys beating a little negro over the head with a plank (the -hardness of the negro’s skull here affording the humorous -<i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">motif</span></i>), and we see an idiot blowing up a mule with dynamite. -Lunacy, in short, could go no further than this -pandemonium of undisguised coarseness and brutality—the -humor offered on Easter Sunday morning by leading -American newspapers for the edification of American -readers.</p> - -<p class='c010'>And every one of the countless creatures, even to the -poor, maligned dumb animals, is saying something. To -the woeful extravagance of foolish acts must be added an -equal extravagance of foolish words: “Out with you, intoxicated -rowdy!” “Shut up!” “Skidoo!” “They’ve set -the dog on me.” “Hee-haw.” “My uncle had it tooken in -Hamburg.” “Dat old gentleman will slip on dem banana -skins,” “Little Buster got all that was coming to him.” -“Aw, shut up!” “Y-e-e-e G-o-d-s!” “Ouch!” “Golly, dynamite -am powerful stuff.” “I am listening to vat der vild -vaves is sedding.” “I don’t think Pa and I will ever get -along together until he gets rid of his conceit.” “Phew!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The brightness of this repartee could be continued indefinitely; -profanity, of course, is indicated by dashes and -exclamation points; a person who has fallen overboard says, -“Blub!” concussion is visibly represented by stars; “biff” -and “bang” are used, according to taste, to accompany a -blow on the nose or an explosion of dynamite.</p> - -<p class='c010'>From this brief summary it may be seen how few are -the fundamental conceptions that supply the bulk of -almost the entire output, and in these days of syndicated -ideas a comparatively small body of men produce the -greater part of it. Physical pain is the most glaringly -<span class='pageno' id='Page_240'>240</span>omnipresent of these motifs; it is counted upon invariably -to amuse the average humanity of our so-called Christian -civilization. The entire group of Easter Sunday pictures -constitutes a saturnalia of prearranged accidents in which -the artist is never hampered by the exigencies of logic; -machinery in which even the presupposed poorest intellect -might be expected to detect the obvious flaw accomplishes -its evil purpose with inevitable accuracy; jails and lunatic -asylums are crowded with new inmates; the policeman -always uses his club or revolver; the parents usually thrash -their offspring at the end of the performance; household -furniture is demolished, clothes ruined, and unsalable eggs -broken by the dozen. Deceit is another universal concept -of humor, which combines easily with the physical pain -<i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">motif</span></i>; and mistaken identity, in which the juvenile idiot -disguises himself and deceives his parents in various ways, -is another favorite resort of the humorists. The paucity -of invention is hardly less remarkable than the willingness -of the inventors to sign their products, or the willingness -of editors to publish them. But the age is notoriously one -in which editors underrate and insult the public intelligence.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Doubtless there are some to applaud the spectacle,—the -imitative spirits, for example, who recently compelled -a woman to seek the protection of a police department -because of the persecution of a gang of boys and young -men shouting “hee-haw” whenever she appeared on the -street; the rowdies whose exploits figure so frequently in -metropolitan newspapers; or that class of adults who tell -indecent stories at the dinner-table and laugh joyously -at their wives’ efforts to turn the conversation. But the -Sunday comic goes into other homes than these, and is -handed to their children by parents whose souls would -shudder at the thought of a dime novel. Alas, poor parents! -<span class='pageno' id='Page_241'>241</span>That very dime novel as a rule holds up ideals of -bravery and chivalry, rewards good and punishes evil, -offers at the worst a temptation to golden adventuring, -for which not one child in a million will ever attempt to -surmount the obvious obstacles. It is no easy matter to -become an Indian fighter, pirate, or detective; the dream -is, after all, a day-dream, tinctured with the beautiful color -of old romance, and built on eternal qualities that the -world has rightfully esteemed worthy of emulation. And -in place of it the comic supplement, like that other brutal -horror, the juvenile comic story, which goes on its immoral -way unnoticed, raises no high ambition, but devotes itself -to “mischief made easy.” Hard as it is to become an -Indian fighter, any boy has plenty of opportunity to throw -stones at his neighbor’s windows. And on any special -occasion, such, for example, as Christmas or Washington’s -Birthday, almost the entire ponderous machine is set in -motion to make reverence and ideals ridiculous. Evil -example is strong in proportion as it is easy to imitate. -The state of mind that accepts the humor of the comic -weekly is the same as that which shudders at Ibsen, and -smiles complacently at the musical comedy, with its open -acceptance of the wild-oats theory, and its humorous exposition -of a kind of wild oats that youth may harvest without -going out of its own neighborhood.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In all this noisy, explosive, garrulous pandemonium one -finds here and there a moment of rest and refreshment—the -work of the few pioneers of decency and decorum brave -enough to bring their wares to the noisome market and -lucky enough to infuse their spirit of refinement, art, and -genuine humor into its otherwise hopeless atmosphere. -Preëminent among them stands the inventor of “Little -Nemo in Slumberland,” a man of genuine pantomimic -humor, charming draughtsmanship, and an excellent decorative -<span class='pageno' id='Page_242'>242</span>sense of color, who has apparently studied his medium -and makes the best of it. And with him come Peter -Newell, Grace G. Weiderseim, and Condé,—now illustrating -<cite>Uncle Remus</cite> for a Sunday audience,—whose pictures -in some of the Sunday papers are a delightful and -self-respecting proof of the possibilities of this type of -journalism. Out of the noisy streets, the cheap restaurants -with their unsteady-footed waiters and avalanches of soup -and crockery, out of the slums, the quarreling families, the -prisons and the lunatic asylums, we step for a moment into -the world of childish fantasy, closing the iron door behind -us and trying to shut out the clamor of hooting mobs, the -laughter of imbeciles, and the crash of explosives. After -all, there is no reason why children should not have their -innocent amusement on Sunday morning; but there seems -to be every reason why the average editor of the weekly -comic supplement should be given a course in art, literature, -common sense, and Christianity.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_243'>243</span> - <h2 class='c008'>THE AMERICAN GRUB STREET</h2> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c005'> - <div>BY JAMES H. COLLINS</div> - </div> -</div> - -<h3 class='c012'>I</h3> - -<p class='c013'>New York’s theatres, cafés, and hotels, with many of -her industries, are supported by a floating population. The -provinces know this, and it pleases them mightily. But -how many of the actual inhabitants of New York know -of the large floating population that is associated with -her magazines, newspapers, and publishing interests?—a -floating population of the arts, mercenaries of pen and -typewriter, brush and camera, living for the most part in -the town and its suburbs, yet leading an unattached existence, -that, to the provincial accustomed to dealing with -life on a salary, seems not only curious but extremely -precarious—as it often is.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The free-lance writer and artist abound in the metropolis, -and with them is associated a motley free-lance crew -that has no counterpart elsewhere on this continent. New -York’s “Grub Street” is one of the truest indications of -her metropolitan character. In other American cities the -newspaper is written, illustrated, and edited by men and -women on salaries, as are the comparatively few magazines -and the technical press covering our country’s material -activities. But in New York, while hundreds of editors, -writers, and artists also rely upon a stated, definite stipend, -several times as many more live without salaried connections, -sometimes by necessity, but as often by choice. -These are the dwellers in Grub Street.</p> - -<p class='c010'>This thoroughfare has no geographical definition. Many -of the natives of Manhattan Island know as little of it -<span class='pageno' id='Page_244'>244</span>as do the truck loads of visitors “seeing New York,” who -cross and recross it unwittingly. Grub Street begins nowhere -and ends nowhere; yet between these vague terminals -it runs to all points of the compass, turns sharp -corners, penetrates narrow passageways, takes its pedestrians -up dark old stairways one moment and through -sumptuous halls of steel and marble the next, touching -along the way more diverse interests than any of the actual -streets of Manhattan, and embracing ideals, tendencies, -influences, and life-currents that permeate the nation’s -whole material and spiritual existence. Greater Grub -Street is so unobtrusive that a person with no affair to -transact therein might dwell a quarter-century in New -York and never discover it; yet it is likewise so palpable -and vast to its denizens that by no ordinary circumstances -would any of them be likely to explore all its infinite -arteries, veins, and ganglia.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Not long ago there arrived on Park Row for the first -time in his life a newspaper reporter of conspicuous ability -along a certain line. In the West he had made a name for -his knack at getting hold of corporate reports and court -decisions several days in advance of rival papers. Once, -in Chicago, by climbing over the ceiling of a jury-room, he -was able to publish the verdict in a sensational murder trial -a half-hour before it had been brought in to the judge. A -man invaluable in following the devious windings of the -day’s history as it must be written in newspapers, he had -come to Park Row as the ultimate field of development for -his especial talent. To demonstrate what he had done, he -brought along a thick sheaf of introductory letters from -Western editors. There was one for every prominent editor -and publisher in the New York newspaper field, yet -after all had been delivered it seemed to avail nothing. -Nobody had offered him a situation.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_245'>245</span>“The way to get along in New York is to go out and get -the stuff,” explained a free lance whom he fell in with in -a William Street restaurant. “Get copy they can’t turn -down—deliver the goods.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>In that dull summer season all the papers were filled -with gossip about a subscription book that had been sold -at astonishing prices to that unfailing resource of newspapers, -the “smart set.” Charges of blackmail flew -through the city. Official investigation had failed to reveal -anything definite about the work, which was said to -be in process of printing. In twenty-four hours the newcomer -from the West appeared in the office of a managing -editor with specimen pages of the book itself. Where he -had got them nobody knew. No one cared. They were -manifestly genuine, and within two hours a certain sensational -newspaper scored a “beat.” At last accounts he -was specializing in the same line, obtaining the unobtainable -and selling it where it would bring the best price.</p> - -<p class='c010'>This is one type of free lance.</p> - -<p class='c010'>At the other end of the scale may be cited the all-around -scientific worker who came to the metropolis several years -ago, after long experience in the departments at Washington. -Lack of influence there had thrown him on the -world at forty. Accustomed to living on the rather slender -salary that goes with a scientific position, and knowing no -other way of getting a livelihood, he set out to find in New -York a place similar to that he had held in the capital. He -is a man who has followed the whole trend of modern -scientific progress as a practical investigator—a deviser -of experiments and experimental apparatus, a skilled technical -draughtsman, a writer on scientific subjects, and a -man of field experience in surveying and research that has -taken him all over the world. New York offered him nothing -resembling the work he had done in Washington; but -<span class='pageno' id='Page_246'>246</span>in traveling about the town among scientific and technical -publishers he got commissions to write an article or two -for an encyclopedia. These led him into encyclopedic illustration -as well, and then he took charge of a whole section -of the work, gathering his materials outside, writing and -drawing at home, and visiting the publisher’s office only -to deliver the finished copy. Encyclopedia writing and -illustration has since become his specialty. His wide experience -and knowledge fit him to cope with diverse subjects, -and he earns an income which, if not nearly so large as -that of the free-lance reporter, is quite as satisfactory as -his Washington salary. As soon as one encyclopedia is -finished in New York, another is begun, and from publisher -to publisher go a group of encyclopedic free-lances, -who will furnish an article on integral calculus or the Vedic -pantheon, with diagrams and illustrations—and very -good articles at that.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>II</h3> - -<p class='c013'>Who but a Balzac will take a census of Greater Grub -Street, enumerating its aristocrats, its well-to-do obscure -bourgeois, its Bohemians, its rakes and evil-doers, its -artisans and struggling lower classes? Among its citizens -are the materials of a newer <cite><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Comédie Humaine</span></cite>. The two -personalities outlined above merely set a vague intellectual -boundary to this world. In its many kinds and stations of -workers Grub Street is as irreducible as nebulæ. Its aristocracy -is to be found any time in that “Peerage” of Grub -Street, the contents pages of the better magazines, where -are arrayed the names of successful novelists, essayists, -and short-story writers, of men and women who deal with -specialties such as travel, historical studies, war correspondence, -nature interpretation, sociology, politics, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_247'>247</span>every other side of life and thought; and here, too, are -enlisted their morganatic relatives, the poets and versifiers, -and their showy, prosperous kindred, the illustrators, who -may be summoned from Grub Street to paint a portrait at -Newport. This peerage is real, for no matter upon what -stratum of Grub Street each newcomer may ultimately -find his level of ability, this is the goal that was aimed at -in the beginning. This is the Dream.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Staid, careful burghers of the arts, producing their good, -dull, staple necessities in screed and picture, live about the -lesser magazines, the women’s periodicals, the trade and -technical press, the syndicates that supply “Sunday stuff” -to newspapers all over the land, the nameless, mediocre -publications that are consumed by our rural population in -million editions. The Bohemian element is found writing -“on space” for newspapers this month, furnishing the -press articles of a theatre or an actress the next, running -the gamut of the lesser magazines feverishly, flitting hither -and thither, exhausting its energies with wasteful rapidity, -and never learning the business tact and regularity that -keep the burgher in comfort and give his name a standing -at the savings bank. The criminal class of Grub Street -includes the peddler of false news, the adapter of other -men’s ideas, and the swindler who copies published articles -and pictures outright, trusting to luck to elude the editorial -police. The individual in this stratum has a short career -and not a merry one; but the class persists with the persistence -of the parasite. Grub Street’s artisans are massed -about the advertising agencies, producing the plausible -arguments put forth for the world of merchandise, and the -many varieties of illustration that go with them; while the -nameless driftwood which floats about the whole thoroughfare -includes no one knows how many hundreds of aspirants -whose talents do not suffice for any of these classes, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_248'>248</span>together with the peddler of other men’s wares on commission, -who perhaps ekes out a life by entering as a super -at the theatres, the artists’ models, both men and women, -who pose in summer and are away with a theatrical company -in winter, the dullard, the drone, the ne’er-do-well, -the palpable failure. At one end, Art’s chosen sons and -daughters; at the other, her content, misguided dupes.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The free lance is bred naturally in New York, and -thrives in its atmosphere, because the market for his wares -is stable and infinitely varied. The demand he satisfies -could be appeased by no other system. The very life of -metropolitan publishing lies in the search for new men and -variety. Publishers spend great sums upon the winnowing -machinery that threshes over what comes to their editors’ -desks, and no editor in the metropolis grudges the time -necessary to talk with those who call in person and have -ideas good enough to carry them past his assistants. Publicly, -the editorial tribe may lament the many hours spent -yearly in this winnowing process. Yet every experienced -editor in New York has his own story of the stranger, -uncouth, unpromising, unready of speech, who stole in late -one afternoon and seemed to have almost nothing in him, -yet who afterwards became the prolific Scribbler or the -great D’Auber. Not an editor of consequence but who, -if he knew that to-morrow this ceaseless throng of free -lances, good, bad, and impossible, had declared a Chinese -boycott upon him and would visit his office no more, would -regard it as the gravest of crises.</p> - -<p class='c010'>New York provides a market so wide for the wares of -the free lance that almost anything in the way of writing -or picture can eventually be sold, if it is up to a certain -standard of mediocrity. A trained salesman familiar with -values in the world of merchandise would consider this -market one of the least exacting, most constant, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_249'>249</span>remunerative. And it is a market to be regarded, on the -whole, in terms of merchandise. Not genius or talent sets -the standards, but ordinary good workmanship. Magazines -are simply the apex of the demand—that corner of -the mart where payment is perhaps highest and the byproduct -of reputation greatest. For each of the fortunate -workers whose names figure in the magazine peerage, there -are virtually hundreds who produce for purchasers and -publications quite unknown to the general public, and -often their incomes are equal to those of the established -fiction writer or popular illustrator.</p> - -<p class='c010'>New York has eight Sunday newspapers that buy matter -for their own editions and supply it in duplicate to other -Sunday newspapers throughout the country under a syndicate -arrangement. Perhaps an average of five hundred -columns of articles, stories, interviews, children’s stuff, -household and feminine gossip, humor, verse, and miscellany, -with illustrations, are produced every week for this -demand alone; and at least fifty per cent of the yearly -$150,000 that represents its lowest value to the producers -is paid to free-lance workers. The rest goes to men on -salary who write Sunday matter at space rates. This item -is wholly distinct from the equally great mass of Sunday -stuff written for the same papers by salaried men. Several -independent syndicates also supply a similar class of matter -to papers throughout the United States, for both Sunday -and daily use. This syndicate practice has, within the -past ten years, made New York a veritable journalistic -provider for the rest of the nation. The metropolis supplies -the Sunday reading of the American people, largely -because it has the resources of Grub Street to draw upon. -Syndicate matter is cheaper than the provincial product, -it is true; but not price alone is accountable for this supremacy -of the syndicate. By the side of the workmanlike -<span class='pageno' id='Page_250'>250</span>stories, articles, skits, and pictures supplied by Greater -Grub Street, the productions of a provincial newspaper -staff on salary grow monotonous in their sameness, and -reveal themselves by their less skillful handling.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The Sunday-reading industry provides a market, not -only for writers and artists, but also for photographers, -caricaturists, cartoonists, makers of squibs and jokes, -experts in fashions, devisers of puzzles, men and women -who sell ideas for novel Sunday supplements, such as those -printed in sympathetic inks, and the like. It is a peculiarity -of our country worth noting, that all our published -humor finds its outlet through the newspapers. Though -England, Germany, France, and other countries have a -humorous press distinctly apart, the United States has -only one humorous journal that may be called national in -tone. An overwhelming tide of caricature and humor -sweeps through our daily papers, but the larger proportion -is found in the illustrated comic sheets of the leading New -York dailies; and these are syndicated in a way that gives -them a tremendous national circulation. The Sunday -comic sheet, whatever one wishes to say of its quality, was -built in Greater Grub Street, and there, to-day, its foundations -rest.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In Grub Street, too, dwells the army of workers who -furnish what might be called the cellulose of our monthly -and weekly publications—interviews, literary gossip, -articles of current news interest, matter interesting to -women, to children, to every class and occupation. As -there are magazines for the servant girl and clerk, so there -are magazines for the millionaire with a country estate, -the business man studying system and methods, the -woman with social or literary aspirations, the family planning -travel or a vacation. To-day it is a sort of axiom in -the publishing world that a new magazine, to succeed, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_251'>251</span>must have a new specialty. Usually this will be a material -one, for our current literature deals with things rather -than thought; it is healthy but never top-heavy. Each new -magazine interest discovered is turned over to Greater -Grub Street for development, and here it is furnished with -matter to fit the new point of view, drawings and photographs -to make it plain, editors to guide, and sometimes a -publisher to send it to market.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then come, rank on rank, the trade and technical periodicals, -of which hundreds are issued weekly and monthly in -New York. These touch the whole range of industry and -commerce. They deal with banking, law, medicine, insurance, -manufacturing, and the progress of merchandise of -every kind through the wholesale, jobbing, and retailing -trades, with invention and mechanical science, with crude -staples and finished commodities, with the great main -channels of production and distribution and the little by-corners -of the mart. Some of them are valuable publishing -properties; more are insignificant; yet each has to go to -press regularly, and all must be filled with their own particular -kinds of news, comment, technical articles, and -pictures. Theirs is a difficult point of view for the free -lance, and on this account much of their contents is written -by salaried editors and assistants. Contributions come, -too, from engineers, scientists, bankers, attorneys, physicians, -and specialists in every part of the country. Foremen -and superintendents and mechanics in some trades -send in roughly outlined diagrams and descriptions that -enable the quick-witted editors to see “how the blamed -thing works” and write the finished article. The American -trade press is still in an early stage of development on its -literary side. It has grown up largely within the past two -decades, and still lacks literary workmanship. To hundreds -of free-lance workers this field is now either unknown -<span class='pageno' id='Page_252'>252</span>or underestimated. Yet year after year men disappear -from Park Row and the round of Magazinedom, to be -found, if any one would take the trouble to look them up, -among the trade journals. Some of the great properties in -this class belong to journalists who saw an opportunity a -decade ago, and grasped it.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>III</h3> - -<p class='c013'>The trade journals lead directly into the field of advertising, -which has grown into a phenomenal outlet for free -lance energies in the past ten years, and is still growing at -a rate that promises to make it the dominant market of -Grub Street. A glance through the advertising sections -of the seventy-five or more monthly and weekly magazines -published in New York reveals only a fraction of this -demand, for a mass of writing and illustration many times -greater is produced for catalogues, booklets, folders, circulars, -advertising in the religious, agricultural, and trade -press, and other purposes. Much of it is the work of men -on salary, yet advertising takes so many ingenious forms -and is so constantly striving for the novel and excellent, -that almost every writer and illustrator of prominence -receives in the course of the year commissions for special -advertising work, and fat commissions, too. Often the -fine drawing one sees as the centre of attraction in a magazine -advertisement is the work of a man or woman of -reputation among the readers of magazines, delivered with -the understanding that it is to be published unsigned.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The advertising demand is divided into two classes—that -represented by business firms which prepare their own -publicity, and that for the advertising agencies which prepare -and forward to periodicals the advertising of many -business houses, receiving for their service a commission -<span class='pageno' id='Page_253'>253</span>from the publishers. It is among the latter especially that -the free lance finds his market, for the agencies handle a -varied mass of work and are continually calling in men -who can furnish fresh ideas. One of the leading advertising -agencies keeps in a great file the names and addresses -of several hundred free-lance workers—writers, sculptors, -illustrators, portrait painters, translators, news and -illustrating photographers, fashion designers, authorities -in silver and virtu, book-reviewers, journalists with such -specialties as sports, social news, and the markets. Each -is likely to be called on for something in his particular line -as occasions arise.</p> - -<p class='c010'>This concern, for example, may receive a commission to -furnish a handsomely bound miniature book on servants’ -liveries for a clothing manufacturer, or a history of silver -plate to be privately printed and distributed among the -patrons of a great jewelry house. For a simple folder to -advertise a brand of whiskey, perhaps, the sporting editor -of a leading daily newspaper is asked to compile information -about international yacht-racing. From Union Square -may be seen a large wall, upon which is painted a quaint -landscape of gigantic proportions. It is a bit of thoroughly -artistic design, fitting into the general color scheme -of the square, and its attractiveness gives it minor advertising -value for the firm that has taken an original way of -masking a blank wall. This decoration was painted from -a small design, made for the above advertising agency by -a painter of prominence. The same agency, in compiling -a catalogue of cash registers some time ago, referred to -their utilitarian ugliness of design. The cash register manufacturers -protested that these were the best designs they -had been able to make, whereupon the advertising agency -commissioned four sculptors, who elaborated dainty cash-register -<span class='pageno' id='Page_254'>254</span>cases in the <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">art nouveau</span></i> manner, for installation in -cafés, milliners’ shops, and other fine establishments.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Advertising requires versatility of a high order. A newspaper -writer, so long as he makes his articles interesting -to the widest public, is not required to give too strict attention -to technicalities—he writes upon this subject to-day -and upon one at the opposite pole to-morrow. A writer -for a trade journal, on the other hand, need not give pains -to human interest if his technical grasp of the iron market, -the haberdashery trade, or the essentials of machine-shop -practice is sure. Moreover, each year’s experience in -writing for a trade journal adds to his knowledge of its subject -and makes his work so much the surer and simpler. -But the writer of advertising must combine human interest -with strict accuracy; his subject is constantly changing, -unless he is a specialist in a certain line, taking advertising -commissions at intervals. To-day he studies the methods -of making cigars and the many different kinds of tobacco -that enter therein; to-morrow he writes a monograph on -enameled tin cans, investigating the processes of making -them in the factory; and the day after that his topic may -be breakfast foods, taking him into investigations of starch, -gluten, digestive functions, diet and health, and setting -him upon a weary hunt for synonyms to describe the “rich -nutty flavor” that all breakfast foods are said to have. -All the illustrative work of an advertising artist must be -so true to detail that it will pass the eyes of men who spend -their lives making the things he pictures. The Camusots -and Matifats no longer provide costly orgies for Grub -Street, sitting by meekly to enjoy the flow of wit and -banter. They now employ criticism in moulding their -literature of business. It was one of them who, difficult to -please in circulars, looked over the manuscript submitted -by an advertising free lance with more approval than was -<span class='pageno' id='Page_255'>255</span>his custom. “This is not bad,” he commented; “not bad -at all—and yet—I have seen all these words used -before.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>An interesting new development of advertising is the -business periodical, a journal published by a large manufacturer, -usually, and sent out monthly to retail agents or his -consuming public. In its pages are printed articles about -the manufacturer’s product, descriptions of its industrial -processes, news of the trade, and miscellany. Many of -these periodicals are extremely interesting for themselves. -There must be dozens of them in New York—none of the -newspaper directories list them. Writers who are not -especially familiar with the product with which they deal -often furnish a style of matter for them that is valued for -its fresh point of view and freedom from trade and technical -phraseology. These publications range from journals -of a dozen pages, issued on the “every little while” plan -for the retail trade of a rubber hose manufacturer, to the -monthly magazine which a stocking jobber mails to thousands -of youngsters all over the land to keep them loyal -to his goods.</p> - -<p class='c010'>This, then, is the market in its main outlines. But a -mass of detail has been eliminated. In groups large and -small there are the poster artists who work for theatrical -managers and lithographers; the strange, obscure folk who -write the subterranean dime-novel stories of boyhood; the -throngs of models who go from studio to studio, posing at -the uniform rate of fifty cents an hour whether they work -constantly or seldom; the engravers who have made an -art of retouching half-tone plates; the great body of crafts-and-arts -workers which has sprung up in the past five years -and which leads the free-lance life in studios, selling pottery, -decorated china, wood, and metal work to rich patrons; -the serious painters whose work is found in exhibitions, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_256'>256</span>and the despised “buckeye” painter who paints for -the department stores and cheap picture shops; the etchers, -the portrait painters, and the “spotknockers” who lay in -the tones of the crude “crayon portrait” for popular consumption—these -and a multitude of others inhabit Greater -Grub Street, knowing no regularity of employment, of -hours, or of income.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>IV</h3> - -<p class='c013'>While its opportunities are without conceivable limitation, -Grub Street is not a thoroughfare littered with currency, -but is paved with cobblestones as hard as any along -the other main avenues of New York’s life and energy. -The Great Man of the Provinces, landing at Cortlandt or -Twenty-third Street after an apprenticeship at newspaper -work in a minor city, steps into a world strangely different -from the one he has known. For, just to be a police reporter -elsewhere is to be a journalist, and journalism is the -same as literature, and literature is honorable, and a little -mysterious, and altogether different from the management -of a stove foundry, or the proprietorship of a grocery house, -or any other of the overwhelmingly material things that -make up American life. Times have not greatly changed -since Lucien de Rubempré was the lion of Madame de -Bargeton’s salon at Angoulême, and this is a matter they -seem to have ordered no better in provincial France. To -be a writer or artist of any calibre elsewhere breeds a form -of homage and curiosity and a certain sure social standing. -But New York strikes a chill over the Great Man of the -Provinces, because it is nothing at all curious or extraordinary -for one to write or draw in a community where thousands -live by these pursuits. They carry no homage or -social standing on their face, and the editorial world is even -studied in its uncongeniality toward the newcomer, because -<span class='pageno' id='Page_257'>257</span>he is so fearfully likely to prove one of the ninety-nine -in every hundred aspirants who cannot draw or write -well enough. The ratio that holds in the mass of impossible -manuscript and sketches that pours into every editorial -office is also the ratio of the living denizens of Grub Street. -The Great Man of the Provinces is received on the assumption -that he is unavailable, with thanks, and the hope -that he will not consider this a reflection upon his literary -or artistic merit.</p> - -<p class='c010'>So he finds himself altogether at sea for a while. No -Latin Quarter welcomes him, for this community has no -centre. His estimates of magazine values, formed at a -distance, are quickly altered. Many lines of work he had -never dreamed of, and channels for selling it, come to light -day by day. To pass the building where even <cite>Munsey’s</cite> -is published gives him a thrill the first time; yet after a -few months in New York he finds that the great magazines, -instead of being nearer, are really farther away than they -were in the provinces. Of the other workers he meets, few -aspire to them, while of this few only a fraction get into -their pages. He calls on editors, perhaps, and finds them -a strange, non-committal caste, talking very much like -their own rejection slips. No editor will definitely give -him a commission, even if he submits an idea that seems -good, but can at most be brought to admit under pressure -that, if the Great Man were to find himself in that neighborhood -with the idea all worked up, the editor <em>might</em> be -interested in seeing it, perhaps even reading it—yet he -must not understand this as in any way binding ... -the magazine is very full just at present ... hadn’t he -better try the newspapers, now? For there are more blanks -than prizes walking the Grub Street paving, and persons -of unsound minds have been known to take to literature -as a last resort, and the most dangerous person to the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_258'>258</span>editor is not a rejected contributor at all, but one who has -been accepted once and sees a gleam of a chance that he -may be again.</p> - -<p class='c010'>If the Great Man really has “stuff” in him, he stops -calling on editors and submits his offerings by mail. Even -if he attains print in a worthy magazine, he may work a -year without seeing its notable contributors, or its minor -ones, or its handmaidens, or even its office-boy. Two -men jostled one another on Park Row one morning as they -were about to enter the same newspaper building, apologized, -and got into the elevator together. There a third -introduced them, when it turned out that one had been -illustrating the work of the other for two years, and each -had wished to know the other, but never got around to it. -An individual circle of friends is easily formed in Grub -Street, but the community as a whole lives far and wide -and has no coherence.</p> - -<p class='c010'>What ability or skill the Great Man brought from his -province may be only the foundation for real work. There -will surely be extensive revising of ideals and methods. A -story is told of a poet who came to the metropolis with a -completed epic. This found no acceptance, so after cursing -the stupidity of the public and the publishers, he took -to writing “Sunday stuff.” Soon the matter-of-fact attitude -of the workers around him, with the practical view -of the market he acquired, led him to doubt the literary -value of the work he had done in the sentimental atmosphere -of his native place. Presently a commission to write -a column of humor a week came to him, and he cut his -epic into short lengths, tacked a squib on each fragment, -and eventually succeeded in printing it all as humor, at a -price many times larger than the historic one brought by -<cite>Paradise Lost</cite>. Another newcomer brought unsalable plays -and high notions of the austerity of the artistic vocation. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_259'>259</span>Three months after his arrival he was delighted to get a -commission to write the handbook a utilitarian publisher -proposed to sell to visitors seeing the metropolis. This -commission not only brought a fair payment for the manuscript -on delivery, but involved a vital secondary consideration. -The title of the work was “Where to Eat in New -York,” and its preparation made it necessary for the -author to dine each evening for a month in a different café -at the proprietor’s expense.</p> - -<p class='c010'>This practical atmosphere of Grub Street eventually -makes for development in the writer or artist who has -talent. It is an atmosphere suited to work, for the worker -is left alone in the solitude of the multitude. False ideals -and sentimentality fade from his life, and his style takes -on directness and vigor. Greater Grub Street is not given -to reviling the public for lack of ideals or appreciation. -The free lance’s contact with the real literary market, day -after day, teaches him that, as soon as he can produce the -manuscript of the great American novel, there are editors -who may be trusted to perceive its merit, and publishers -ready to buy.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>V</h3> - -<p class='c013'>This free-lance community of the metropolis is housed -all over Manhattan Island, as well as in the suburbs and -adjacent country for a hundred miles or more around. An -amusing census of joke-writers and humorists was made -not long ago by a little journal which a New Jersey railroad -publishes in the interest of its suburban passenger -traffic. It was shown, by actual names and places of -residence, that more than three fourths of the writers who -keep the suburban joke alive live in Suburbia themselves.</p> - -<p class='c010'>New York has no Latin Quarter. As her publications -are scattered over the city from Park Row to Forty-second -<span class='pageno' id='Page_260'>260</span>Street, so the dwellings of free-lance workers are found -everywhere above Washington Square. There are numerous -centres, however. Washington Square is one for newspaper -men and women, and in its boarding-houses and -apartment hotels are also found many artists who labor in -studios near by. Tenth Street, between Broadway and -Sixth Avenue, has a few studios remaining, surrounded by -the rising tide of the wholesale clothing trade, chief among -them being the Fleischmann Building, next Grace Church, -and the old studio building near Sixth Avenue. More old -studios are found in Fourteenth Street; and around Union -Square the new skyscrapers house a prosperous class of -illustrators who do not follow the practice of living with -their work. On the south side of Twenty-third Street, -from Broadway to Fourth Avenue, is a row of old-time -studios, and pretty much the whole gridiron of cross streets -between Union and Madison squares has others, old and -new. Thence, Grub Street proceeds steadily uptown until, -in the neighborhood of Central Park, it may be said to have -arrived.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Look over the roofs in any of these districts and the toplight -hoods may be seen, always facing north, as though -great works were expected from that point of the compass. -Grub Street is the top layer of New York, and dislikes to -be far from the roof. A studio that has been inhabited -by a succession of artists and writers for twenty, thirty, -forty years, may be tenanted to-day by a picturesque -young man in slouch hat, loose neckerchief, and paint-flecked -clothes, who eats about at cheap cafés, and sleeps -on a cot that in daytime serves as a lounge under its dusty -Oriental canopy. The latter ornament is the unfailing -mark of that kind of studio, and with it go, in some combination, -a Japanese umbrella and a fish-net. This young -man makes advertising pictures, perhaps, or puts the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_261'>261</span>frames around the half-tone illustrations for a Sunday -newspaper. By that he lives, and for his present fame -draws occasional “comics” for <cite>Life</cite>. But with an eye to -Immortality, he paints, so that there are always sketching -trips to be made, and colors to putter with, and art, sacred -art, to talk of in the terms of the technician. Or such an -old studio may shelter some forlorn spinster who ekes out -a timid existence by painting dinner cards or the innumerable -whatnots produced and sold by her class in Grub -Street.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In the newer studios are found two methods of working. -Prosperous illustrators, writers, and teachers may prefer -a studio in an office building, where no one is permitted -to pass the night, conducting their affairs with the aid of -a stenographer and an office boy. Others live and work in -the newer studios that have been built above Twenty-third -Street in the past decade. Few of the traditions of -Bohemia are preserved by successful men and women. -The young man of the Sunday supplement, and the -amateur dauber, once he succeeds as a magazine illustrator, -drops his slouch hat, becomes conventional in dress, -and ceases to imitate outwardly an artistic era that is -past. Success brings him in contact with persons of truer -tastes, and he changes to match his new environment. -This is so fundamental in Grub Street that the ability of -any of its denizens may be gauged by the editor’s experienced -eye; the less a given individual dresses like the traditional -artist or writer of the Parisian Latin Quarter, the -nearer he is, probably, to being one.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Women make up a large proportion of the dwellers in -Grub Street, and its open market, holding to no distinctions -of sex in payment for acceptable work, is in their -favor. Any of the individual markets offers a fair field for -<span class='pageno' id='Page_262'>262</span>their work, and in most of them the feminine product is -sought as a foil to the staple masculine.</p> - -<p class='c010'>What is the average Grub Street income? That would -be difficult to know, for the free lance, as a rule, keeps no -cash-book. Many workers exist on earnings no larger than -those of a country clergyman, viewed comparatively from -the standpoint of expenses, and among them are men and -women of real ability. Given the magic of business tact, -they might soon double their earnings. Business ability -is the secret of monetary success in Greater Grub Street. -One must know where to sell, and also what to produce. -It pays to aim high and get into the currents of the best -demand, where prices are better, terms fairer, and competition -an absolute nullity. Even the cheapest magazines -and newspapers pay well when the free lance knows how -to produce for them. Hundreds of workers are ill paid -because they have not the instinct of the compiler. Scissors -are mightier than the pen in this material market; -with them the skillful ones write original articles and books—various -information brought together in a new focus.</p> - -<p class='c010'>While untold thousands of impossible articles drift -about the editorial offices, these editors are looking for -what they cannot often describe. A successful worker in -Grub Street divines this need and submits the thing itself. -Often the need is most tangible. For two weeks after the -Martinique disaster the newspapers and syndicates were -hunting articles about volcanoes—not profound treatises, -but ordinary workmanlike accounts such as could be tried -out of any encyclopedia. Yet hundreds of workers, any -one of whom might have compiled the needed articles, -continued to send in compositions dealing with abstract -subjects, things far from life and events, and were turned -down in the regular routine. Only a small proportion of -free lances ever become successful, but those who do, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_263'>263</span>achieve success by attention to demand, with the consequence -that most of their work is sold before it is written.</p> - -<p class='c010'>This community is perhaps the most diversified to be -found in a national centre of thought and energy. Paris, -London, Munich, Vienna, Rome—each has the artistic -tradition and atmosphere, coming down through the centuries. -But this Grub Street of the new world is wholly -material,—a “boom town” of the arts,—embodying in -its brain and heart only prospects, hopes. Its artistic -rating is written plainly in our current literature. There -is real artistic struggle and aspiration in it all, undoubtedly, -but not enough to sweeten the mass.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Greater Grub Street is utilitarian. That which propels -it is not Art, but Advertising—not Clio or Calliope, but -Circulation.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_264'>264</span> - <h2 class='c008'>JOURNALISM AS A CAREER</h2> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c005'> - <div>BY CHARLES MOREAU HARGER</div> - </div> -</div> - -<h3 class='c012'>I</h3> - -<p class='c013'>In a recent discussion with a successful business man -concerning an occupation for the business man’s son, a -college graduate, some one suggested: “Set him up with -a newspaper. He likes the work and is capable of success.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Nothing in it,” was the prompt reply. “He can make -more money with a clothing store, have less worry and -annoyance, and possess the respect of more persons.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>This response typifies the opinion of many fathers regarding -a newspaper career. It is especially common to -the business man in the rural and semi-rural sections. The -dry-goods merchant who has a stock worth twenty thousand -dollars, and makes a profit of from three thousand -dollars to five thousand dollars a year, realizes that the -editor’s possessions are meagre, and believes his income -limited. He likewise hears complaints and criticisms of -the paper. Comparing his own placid money-making -course with, what he assumes to be the stormy and unprofitable -struggle of the publisher, he considers the printing -business an inferior occupation.</p> - -<p class='c010'>For this view the old-time editor is largely responsible. -For decades it was his pride to make constant reference to -his poverty-stricken condition, to beg subscribers to bring -cord-wood and potatoes on subscription, to glorify as a -philanthropist the farmer who “called to-day and dropped -a dollar in the till.” The poor-editor joke is as well established -as the mother-in-law joke or the lover-and-angry-father -<span class='pageno' id='Page_265'>265</span>joke, and about as unwarranted; yet it has built up -a sentiment, false in fact and suggestion, often accepted -as truth.</p> - -<p class='c010'>To the younger generation, journalism presents another -aspect. The fascination of doing things, of being in the -forefront of the world’s activities, appeals to young men -and young women of spirit. Few are they who do not -consider themselves qualified to succeed should they choose -this profession. To the layman it seems so easy and so -pleasant to write the news and comment of the day, to -occupy a seat on the stage at public meetings, to pass the -fire-lines unquestioned.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Not until the first piece of copy is handed in does the -beginner comprehend the magnitude of his task or the -demand made upon him for technical skill. When he sees -the editor slash, blue-pencil, and rearrange his story, he -appreciates how much he has yet to learn. Of this he was -ignorant in his high school and his college days, and he was -confident of his ability. An expression of choice of a life-work -by the freshman class of a college or university will -give a large showing for journalism; in the senior year it -will fall to a minor figure, not more than from three to -seven per cent of the whole. By that period the students -have learned some things concerning life, and have decided, -either because of temperament, or as did the business -man for his son, for some other profession.</p> - -<p class='c010'>To those who choose it deliberately as a life-work, obtaining -a position presents as many difficulties as it does -in any other profession. The old-time plan by which the -beginner began as “devil,” sweeping out the office, cleaning -the presses, and finally rising to be compositor and -writer, is in these days of specialization out of date. The -newspaper business has as distinct departments as a department -store. While a full knowledge of every part of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_266'>266</span>the workings of the office is unquestionably valuable, the -eager aspirant finds time too limited to serve a long apprenticeship -at the mechanical end in order to prepare himself -for the writing-room.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Hence we find the newspaper worker seeking a new -preparation. He strives for a broad knowledge, rather -than mechanical training, and it is from such preparation -that he enters the newspaper office with the best chances -of success. Once the college man in the newspaper office -was a joke. His sophomoric style was the object of sneers -and jeers from the men who had been trained in the school -of actual practice at the desk. To-day few editors hold to -the idea that there can be no special preparation worth -while outside the office, just as you find few farmers sneering -at the work of agricultural colleges. It is not uncommon -to find the staff of a great newspaper composed largely -of college men, and when a new man is sought for the -writing force it is usually one with a college degree who -obtains the place. It is recognized that the ability to think -clearly, to write understandable English, and to know the -big facts of the world and its doings, are essential, and that -college training fits the young man of brains for this. Such -faults as may have been acquired can easily be corrected.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Along with the tendency toward specialization in other -directions, colleges and universities have established -schools or departments of journalism in which they seek -to assist those students who desire to follow that career. -It is not a just criticism of such efforts to say, as some -editors have said, that it is impossible to give practical -experience outside a newspaper office. Such an opinion -implies that news and comment can be written only within -sound of a printing-press; yet a vast deal of actual everyday -work on the papers themselves is done by persons outside -the office.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_267'>267</span>About twenty colleges and universities, chiefly in the -Middle West and Northwest, have established such schools. -They range in their curriculum from courses of lectures by -newspaper men continued through a part of the four-years’ -course, to complete schools with a systematic course of -study comprehending general culture, history, and science, -with actual work on a daily paper published by the students -themselves, on which, under the guidance of an -experienced newspaper man, they fill creditably every department -and assist in the final make-up of the publication. -They even gain a fair comprehension of the workings -of linotypes, presses, and the details of composition, without -attempting to attain such hand-skill as to make them -eligible to positions in the mechanical department.</p> - -<p class='c010'>These students, in addition to possessing the broad culture -that comes with a college degree, know how to write -a “story,” how to frame a headline, how to construct editorial -comment, and they certainly enter the newspaper office -lacking the crudeness manifested by those who have all -the details of newspaper style to learn. This sort of schooling -does not make newspaper men of the unfit, but to the -fit it gives a preparation that saves them much time in attaining -positions of value. That a course of this kind will -become an integral part of many more colleges is probable.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In these schools some of the most capable students enroll. -They are the young men and young women of literary -tastes and keen ambitions. They are as able as the students -who elect law, or science, or engineering. From -months of daily work in a class-room fitted up like the city -room of a great newspaper, with definite news-assignments -and tasks that cover the whole field of writing for the press, -they can scarcely fail to absorb some of the newspaper -spirit, and graduate with a fairly definite idea of what is -to be required of them.</p> - -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_268'>268</span> - <h3 class='c014'>II</h3> -</div> - -<p class='c013'>Then there comes the question, where shall the start be -made? Is it best to begin on the small paper and work -toward metropolitan journalism? or to seek a reporter’s -place on the city daily and work for advancement?</p> - -<p class='c010'>Something is to be said for the latter course. The editor -of one of the leading New York dailies remarked the other -day: “The man who begins in New York, and stays with -it, rises if he be capable. Changes in the staffs are frequent, -and in a half-dozen years he finds himself well up -the ladder. It takes him about that long to gain a good -place in a country town, and then if he goes to the city he -must begin at the bottom with much time wasted.” This -is, however, not the essential argument.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Who is the provincial newspaper man? Where is found -the broadest development, the largest conception of journalism? -To the beginner the vision is not clear. If he -asks the busy reporter, the nervous special writer on a -metropolitan journal, he gets this reply: “If I could only -own a good country paper and be my own master!” Then, -turning to the country editor, he is told: “It is dull in the -country town—if I could get a place on a city journal -where things are happening!” Each can give reasons for -his ambition, and each has from his experience and observation -formed an <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">ex parte</span></i> opinion. Curiously, in view of -the glamour that surrounds the city worker, and the presumption -that he has attained the fullest possible equipment -for the newspaper field, he is less likely to succeed -with satisfaction to himself on a country paper than is the -country editor who finds a place in the city.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The really provincial journalist, the worker whose scope -and ideals are most limited, is often he who has spent years -as a part of a great newspaper-making machine. Frequently, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_269'>269</span>when transplanted to what he considers a narrower -field, which is actually one of wider demands, he -fails in complete efficiency. The province of the city paper -is one of news-selection. Out of the vast skein of the day’s -happenings what shall it select? More “copy” is thrown -away than is used. The <cite>New York Sun</cite> is written as definitely -for a given constituency as is a technical journal. -Out of the day’s news it gives prominence to that which -fits into its scheme of treatment, and there is so much -news that it can fill its columns with interesting material, -yet leave untouched a myriad of events. The <cite>New York -Evening Post</cite> appeals to another constituency, and is made -accordingly. The <cite>World</cite> and <cite>Journal</cite> have a far different -plan, and “play up” stories that are mentioned briefly, or -ignored, by some of their contemporaries. So the writer -on the metropolitan paper is trained to sift news, to choose -from his wealth of material that which the paper’s traditions -demand shall receive attention; and so abundant is -the supply that he can easily set a feast without exhausting -the market’s offering. Unconsciously he becomes an epicure, -and knows no day will dawn without bringing him -his opportunity.</p> - -<p class='c010'>What happens when a city newspaper man goes to the -country? Though he may have all the graces of literary -skill and know well the art of featuring his material, he -comes to a new journalistic world. Thus did the manager -of a flourishing evening daily in a city of fifty thousand -put it: “I went to a leading metropolitan daily to secure -a city editor, and took a man recommended as its most -capable reporter, one with years of experience in the city -field. Brought to the new atmosphere, he was speedily -aware of the changed conditions. In the run of the day’s -news rarely was there a murder, with horrible details as -sidelights; no heiress eloped with a chauffeur; no fire destroyed -<span class='pageno' id='Page_270'>270</span>tenements and lives; no family was broken up by -scandal. He was at a loss to find material with which to -make local pages attractive. He was compelled to give -attention to a wide range of minor occurrences, most of -which he had been taught to ignore. In the end he resigned. -I found it more satisfactory to put in his place a -young man who had worked on a small-town daily and -was in sympathy with the things that come close to the -whole community, who realized that all classes of readers -must be interested in the paper, all kinds of happenings -reported, and the paper be made each evening a picture of -the total sum of the day’s events, rather than of a few -selected happenings. The news-supply is limited, and all -must be used and arranged to interest readers—and we -reach all classes of readers, not a selected constituency.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The small-town paper must do this, and because its -writers are forced so to look upon their field they obtain a -broader comprehension of the community life than do -those who are restricted to special ideas and special conceptions -of the paper’s plans. The beginner who finds his -first occupation on a country paper, by which is meant a -paper in one of the smaller cities, is likely to obtain a better -all-round knowledge of everything that must be done in a -newspaper office than the man who goes directly to a position -on a thoroughly organized metropolitan journal. He -does not secure, however, such helpful training in style or -such expert drill in newspaper methods. He is left to work -out his own salvation, sometimes becoming an adept, but -frequently dragging along in mediocrity. When he goes -from the small paper to the larger one, he has a chance to -acquire efficiency rapidly. The editor of one of the country’s -greatest papers says that he prefers to take young -men of such training, and finds that they have a broader -<span class='pageno' id='Page_271'>271</span>vision than when educated in newspaper-making from the -bottom in his own office.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It is easy to say, as did the merchant concerning his son, -that there are few chances for financial success in journalism. -Yet it is probable that for the man of distinction -in journalism the rewards are not less than they are in -other professions. The salaries on the metropolitan papers -are liberal, and are becoming greater each year as the business -of news-purveying becomes better systematized and -more profitable. The newspaper man earns vastly more -than the minister. The editor in the city gets as much out -of life as do the attorneys. The country editor, with his -plant worth five thousand dollars or ten thousand dollars, -frequently earns for his labors as satisfactory an income -as the banker; while the number of editors of country -weeklies who have a profit of three thousand dollars or -more from their papers is astonishing.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It is, of course, not always so, any more than it is true -that the lawyer, preacher, or physician always possesses a -liberal income. When the city editor makes sport of the -ill-printed country paper, he forgets under what conditions -the country editor at times works. A prosperous publisher -with sympathy in his heart put it this way:—</p> - -<p class='c010'>“The other day we picked up a dinky weekly paper that -comes to our desk every week. As usual we found something -in it that made us somewhat tired, and we threw it -down in disgust. For some reason we picked it up again -and looked at it more closely. Our feelings, somehow or -other, began to change. We noted the advertisements. -They were few in number, and we knew that the wolf was -standing outside the door of that little print-shop and -howling. The ads were poorly gotten up, but we knew -why. The poor fellow didn’t have enough material in his -shop to get up a good ad. It was poorly printed—almost -<span class='pageno' id='Page_272'>272</span>unreadable in spots. We knew again what was the matter. -He needed new rollers and some decent ink, but probably -he didn’t have the money to buy them. One of the few -locals spoke about ‘the editor and family.’ So he had -other mouths to feed. He was burning midnight oil in -order to save hiring a printer. He couldn’t afford it. -True, he isn’t getting out a very good paper, but at that, -he is giving a whole lot more than he is receiving. It is -easy to poke fun at the dinky papers when the waves of -prosperity are breaking in over your own doorstep. Likely, -if we were in that fellow’s place we couldn’t do as well as -he does.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The profession of the publicist naturally leads to politics, -and the editor is directly in the path to political preferment. -The growth of the primary system adds greatly -to the chance in this direction. One of the essentials of -success at a primary is that the candidate have a wide -acquaintance with the public, that his name shall have -been before the voters sufficiently often for them to become -familiar with it. The editor who has made his paper -known acquires this acquaintance. He goes into the campaign -with a positive asset. One western state, for instance, -has newspaper men for one third of its state officers -and forty per cent of its delegation in Congress. This is -not exceptional. It is merely the result of the special conditions, -both of fitness and prominence, in the editor’s -relation to the public.</p> - -<p class='c010'>This very facility for entering politics is perhaps an -objection rather than a benefit. The editor who is a seeker -after office finds himself hampered by his ambitions and -he is robbed of much of the independence that goes to -make his columns of worth. The ideal position is when -the editor owns, clear of debt, a profit-making plant and -is not a candidate for any office. Just so far as he departs -<span class='pageno' id='Page_273'>273</span>from this condition does he find himself restricted in the -free play of his activities. If debt hovers, there is temptation -to seek business at the expense of editorial utterance; -if he desires votes, he must temporize often in order to win -friendships or to avoid enmities. Freedom from entangling -alliances, absolutely an open way, should be the ambition -of the successful newspaper worker. Fortunate is the -subordinate who has an employer so situated, for in such -an office can be done the best thinking and the clearest -writing. Though he may succeed in other paths, financially, -socially, and politically, he will lack in his career -some of the finer enjoyments that can come only with -unobstructed vision.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>III</h3> - -<p class='c013'>It is not agreed that everyday newspaper work gives -especial fitness for progress in literature. The habit of -rapid writing, of getting a story to press to catch the first -edition, has the effect for many of creating a style unfitted -for more serious effort. Yet when temperament and taste -are present, there is no position in which the aspirant for -a place in the literary field has greater opportunity. To -be in touch with the thought and the happenings of the -world gives opportunity for interpretation of life to the -broader public of the magazine and the published volume. -Newspaper work does not make writers of books, but experience -therein obtained does open the way; and the successes, -both in fiction and economics, that have come in -the past decade from the pens of newspaper workers is -ample evidence of the truth of this statement.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It is one of the criticisms of the press that it corrupts -beginners and not only gives them a false view of life, but -compels them to do things abhorrent to those possessed of -the finer feelings of good taste and courtesy. The fact is -<span class='pageno' id='Page_274'>274</span>that journalism is, to a larger degree than almost all other -businesses or professions, individualistic. It is to each -worker what he makes it. The minister has his way well -defined; he must keep in it or leave the profession. The -teacher is restrained within limits; the lawyer and physician, -if they would retain standing, must follow certain -codes. The newspaper worker is a free lance compared -with any of these.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The instances in which a reporter is asked to do things -in opposition to the best standards of ethics and courtesy -are rare—and becoming rarer. The paper of to-day, -though a business enterprise as well as a medium of publicity -and comment, has a higher ideal than that of two -decades ago. The rivalry is greater, the light of competition -is stronger, the relation to the public is closer. Little -mystery surrounds the press. Seldom does the visitor -stand open-eyed in wonder before the “sanctum.” The -average man and woman know how “copy” is prepared, -how type is set, how the presses operate. The newspaper -office is an “open shop” compared with the early printing-offices, -of which the readers of papers stood somewhat in -awe. Because of this, there is less temptation and less -opportunity for obscure methods. The profession offers -to the young man and young woman an opportunity for -intelligent and untainted occupation. Should there be a -demand that seems unreasonable or in bad taste, plenty -of places are open on papers that have a higher standard -of morals and are conducted with a decent respect for the -opinions and rights of the public.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Nor is it necessary that the worker indulge in any pyrotechnics -in maintaining his self-respect. The editor of one -of the leading papers of western New York quietly resigned -his position because he could not with a clear conscience -support the nominee favored by the owner of the paper. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_275'>275</span>He did nothing more than many men have done in other -positions. His action was not proof that his employer was -dishonest, but that there were two points of view and he -could not accept the one favored by the publisher. Such -a course is always open, and so wide is the publishing -world that there is no need for any one to suffer. Nor can -a paper or an editor fence in the earth. With enough -capital to buy a press and paper, and to hire a staff, any -one can have his say—and frequently the most unpromising -field proves a bonanza for the man with courage and -initiative.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In a long and varied experience as editor, I have rarely -found an advertiser who was concerned regarding the editorial -policy of the paper. The advertiser wants publicity; -he is interested in circulation—when he obtains that, he -is satisfied. Instances there are where the advertiser has -a personal interest in some local enterprise and naturally -resents criticism of its management, but such situations -can be dealt with directly and without loss of self-respect -to the publisher. Not from the advertiser comes the most -interference with the press. If there were as little from -men with political schemes, men with pet projects to promote, -men (and women) desiring to use the newspaper’s -columns to boost themselves into higher positions or to -acquire some coveted honor, an independent and self-respecting -editorial policy could be maintained without -material hindrance. With the right sort of good sense and -adherence to conviction on the part of the publisher it can -be maintained under present conditions—and the problem -becomes simpler every year. More papers that cannot -be cajoled, bought, or bulldozed are published to-day -than ever before in the world’s history. The “organ” is -becoming extinct as the promotion of newspaper publicity -<span class='pageno' id='Page_276'>276</span>becomes more a business and less a means of gratifying -ambition.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Publishers have learned that fairness is the best policy, -that it does not pay to betray the trust of the public, and -journalism becomes a more attractive profession exactly -in proportion as it offers a field where self-respect is at a -premium and bosses are unconsidered. The new journalism -demands men of high character and good habits. The -old story of the special writer who, when asked what he -needed to turn out a good story for the next day’s paper, -replied, “a desk, some paper, and a quart of whiskey,” -does not apply. One of the specifications of every request -for writers is that the applicant shall not drink. Cleanliness -of life, a well-groomed appearance, a pleasing personality, -are essentials for the journalist of to-day. The -pace is swift, and he must keep his physical and mental -health in perfect condition.</p> - -<p class='c010'>That there is a new journalism, with principles and -methods in harmony with new political and social conditions -and new developments in news-transmission and the -printing art, is evident. The modern newspaper is far -more a business enterprise than was the one of three -decades ago. To some observers this means the subordination -of the writer to the power of the publisher. If this -be so in some instances, the correction lies with the public. -The abuse of control should bring its own punishment in -loss of patronage, or of influence, or of both. The newspaper, -be it published in a country village or in the largest -city, seeks first the confidence of its readers. Without -this it cannot secure either business for its advertising -pages or influence for its ambitions. Publicity alone may -once have sufficed, but rivalry is too keen to-day. Competition -brings a realizing sense of fairness. Hence it is -that there is a demand for well-equipped young men and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_277'>277</span>clever young women who can instill into the pages of the -press frankness, virility, and a touch of what newspaper -men call “human interest.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The field is broad; it has place for writers of varied accomplishments; -it promises a profession filled with interesting -experiences and close contact with the world’s pulse. -It is not for the sloth or for the sloven, not for the conscienceless -or for the unprepared. Without real qualifications -for it, the ambitious young person would better -seek some other life-work.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_279'>279</span> - <h2 class='c008'>BIBLIOGRAPHY</h2> -</div> - -<h3 class='c012'>1. Books on Principles of Journalism</h3> - -<p class='c020'>Adams, Samuel Hopkins. The Clarion. A novel. 1914.</p> - -<p class='c021'>Bleyer, W. G. Newspaper Writing and Editing. The Function -of the Newspaper, pp. 331–389. 1913.</p> - -<p class='c021'>Hapgood, Norman. Everyday Ethics. Ethics of Journalism, -pp. 1–15. 1910.</p> - -<p class='c021'>Holt, Hamilton. Commercialism and Journalism. 1909.</p> - -<p class='c021'>Proceedings of the First National Newspaper Conference. University -of Wisconsin. 1913.</p> - -<p class='c021'>Reid, Whitelaw. American and English Studies. Journalistic -Duties and Opportunities, v. 2, pp. 313–344. 1913.</p> - -<p class='c021'>Rogers, Jason. Newspaper Building. 1918.</p> - -<p class='c021'>Rogers, J. E. The American Newspaper. 1909.</p> - -<p class='c021'>Scott-James, R. A. The Influence of the Press. 1913.</p> - -<p class='c021'>Thorpe, Merle, <em>editor</em>. The Coming Newspaper. 1915.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>2. What Typical Newspapers Contain</h3> - -<p class='c020'>Wilcox, Delos F. The American Newspaper: A Study in Social -Psychology. Annals of the American Academy, v. 16, p. 56. -(July, 1900.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Garth, T. R. Statistical Study of the Contents of Newspapers. -School and Society, v. 3, p. 140. (Jan. 22, 1916.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Tenney, A. A. Scientific Analysis of the Press. Independent, -v. 73, p. 895. (Oct. 17, 1912.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Mathews, B. C. Study of a New York Daily. Independent, -v. 68, p. 82. (Jan. 13, 1910.)</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>3. What the Public Wants</h3> - -<p class='c020'>Thorpe, Merle, <em>editor</em>. The Coming Newspaper, pp. 223–247; -Symposium: Giving the Public What It Wants, by newspaper -and magazine editors. 1915.</p> - -<p class='c021'>Independent Chicago Journalist, An. Is an Honest and Sane -Newspaper Possible? American Journal of Sociology, v. 15, -p. 321. (Nov. 1909.)</p> - -<p class='c021'><span class='pageno' id='Page_280'>280</span>What the Public Wants. Dial, v. 47, p. 499. (Dec. 16, 1909.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Haskell, H. J. The Public, the Newspaper’s Problem. Outlook, -v. 91, p. 791. (April 3, 1909.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Stansell, C. V. People’s Wants. Nation, v. 98, p. 236. (March -6, 1914.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Newspapers as Commodities. Nation, v. 94, p. 236. (May 9, -1912.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Scott, Walter Dill. The Psychology of Advertising, pp. 226–248. -1908.</p> - -<p class='c021'>Bennett, Arnold. What the Public Wants. A play. 1910.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>4. What Is News?</h3> - -<p class='c020'>What Is News? A Symposium from the Managing Editors of -the Great American Newspapers. Collier’s Weekly, v. 46, -p. 22 (March 18, 1911); v. 47, p. 44 (April 15, 1911); v. 47, -p. 35 (May 6, 1911); v. 47, p. 42 (May 13, 1911); v. 47, -p. 26 (May 20, 1911).</p> - -<p class='c021'>Irwin, Will. What Is News? Collier’s Weekly, v. 46, p. 16. -(March 11, 1911.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>What Is News? Outlook, v. 89, p. 137. (May 23, 1908.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>What Is News? Scribner, v. 44, p. 507. (Oct. 1908.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Brougham, H. B. News—What Is It? Harper’s Weekly, -v. 56, p. 21. (Feb. 17, 1912.)</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>5. The Reporter and the News</h3> - -<p class='c020'>Irwin, Will. “All the News That’s Fit to Print.” Collier’s -Weekly, v. 47, p. 17. (May 6, 1911.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Irwin, Will. The Reporter and the News. Collier’s Weekly, v. -47, p. 21. (April 22, 1911.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Münsterberg, Hugo. The Case of the Reporter. McClure’s -Magazine, v. 36, p. 435. (Feb. 1911.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Strunsky, Simeon. Two Kinds of Reporters. Century, v. 85, -p. 955. (April 1913.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Gentlemanly Reporter, The. Century, v. 79, p. 149. (Nov. -1909.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Dealing in Scandal. Outlook, v. 97, p. 811. (April 15, 1911.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Seldes, G. H. and G. V. The Press and the Reporter. Forum, -v. 52, p. 722. (Nov. 1914.)</p> - -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_281'>281</span> - <h3 class='c014'>6. Effects of News of Crime and Scandal</h3> -</div> - -<p class='c020'>Fenton, Francis. Influence of Newspaper Presentation upon the -Growth of Crime and Other Anti-social Activity. 1911. -Also in American Journal of Sociology, v. 16, pp. 342 and -538. (Nov. 1910, and Jan. 1911.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Phelps, E. B. Neurotic Books and Newspapers as Factors in the -Mortality of Suicides and Crime. Bulletin of the American -Academy of Medicine, v. 12, No. 5. (Oct. 1911.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Newspapers’ Sensations and Suggestion. Independent, v. 62, -p. 449. (Feb. 21, 1907.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Tragic Sense. Nation, v. 87, p. 90. (July 30, 1908.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Danger of the Sensational Press. Craftsman, v. 19, p. 211. -(Nov. 1910.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Howells, W. D. Shocking News. Harper’s Magazine, v. 127, -p. 796. (Oct. 1913.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Irwin, Will. “All the News That’s Fit to Print.” Collier’s -Weekly, v. 47, p. 17. (May 6, 1911.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Responsibility of the Press. Independent, v. 53, p. 2248. -(Sept. 19, 1901.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Our Chamber of Horrors. Outlook, v. 99, p. 261. (Sept. 30, -1911.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>The Newspaper as Childhood’s Enemy. Survey, v. 27, p. 1794. -(Feb. 24, 1912.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Lessons in Crime at Fifty Cents per Month. Outlook, v. 85, -p. 276. (Feb. 2, 1907.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>The Man Who Ate Babies. Harper’s Weekly, v. 51, p. 296. -(March 2, 1907.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Lawlessness and the Press. Century, v. 82, p. 146. (May 1911.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Newspaper Responsibility for Lawlessness. Nation, v. 77, p. 151. -(Aug. 20, 1903.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Newspaper Invasion of Privacy. Century, v. 86, p. 310. (June -1913.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Newspaper Cruelty. Century, v. 84, p. 150. (May 1912.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Newspapers and Crime. Journal of Criminal Law, v. 2, p. 340. -(Sept. 1912.)</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>7. Yellow and Sensational Journalism</h3> - -<p class='c020'>Irwin, Will. The Fourth Current. Collier’s Weekly, v. 46, -p. 14. (Feb. 18, 1911.)</p> - -<p class='c021'><span class='pageno' id='Page_282'>282</span>Irwin, Will. The Spread and Decline of Yellow Journalism. -Collier’s Weekly, v. 46, p. 18. (March 4, 1911.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Thomas, W. I. The Psychology of the Yellow Journal. American -Magazine, v. 65, p. 491. (March 1908.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Brooks, Sydney. The Yellow Press: An English View. Harper’s -Weekly, v. 55, p. 11. (Dec. 23, 1911.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Whibley, Charles. The American Yellow Press. Blackwood’s, -v. 181, p. 531 (April 1907); also in Bookman, v. 25, p. 239. -(May 1907.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Brisbane, Arthur. Yellow Journalism. Bookman, v. 19, p. 400. -(June 1904.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Brisbane, Arthur. William Randolph Hearst. North American -Review, v. 183, p. 511 (Sept. 21, 1906); editorial comment -on this article, by George Harvey, on p. 569.</p> - -<p class='c021'>Commander, Lydia K. The Significance of Yellow Journalism. -Arena, v. 34, p. 150. (Aug. 1905.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Brunner, F. J. Home Newspapers and Others. Harper’s Weekly, -v. 58, p. 24. (Jan. 10, 1914.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Pennypacker, S. W. Sensational Journalism and the Remedy. -North American Review, v. 190, p. 587. (Nov. 1909.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Curb for the Sensational Press. Century, v. 83, p. 631. (Feb. -1912.)</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>8. Inaccuracy</h3> - -<p class='c020'>Smith, Munroe. The Dogma of Journalistic Inerrancy. North -American Review, v. 187, p. 240. (Feb. 1908.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Collins, James H. The Newspaper—An Independent Business. -Saturday Evening Post, v. 185, p. 25. (April 12, 1913.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Kelley, Fred C. Accuracy Pays in Any Business: New York -World’s Bureau of Accuracy and Fair Play. American -Magazine, v. 82, p. 50. (Nov. 1916.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>New Credulity. Nation, v. 80, p. 241. (March 30, 1905.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Fakes and the Press. Science, v. 25, p. 391. (March 8, 1907.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Newspaper Science. Science, v. 25, p. 630. (April 19, 1907.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Gladden, Washington. Experiences with Newspapers. Outlook, -v. 99, p. 387. (Oct. 14, 1911.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Irwin, Will. The New Era. Collier’s Weekly, v. 47, p. 15. -(July 8, 1911.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Print the News. Outlook, v. 96, p. 563. (Nov. 12, 1910.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Falsification of the News. Independent, v. 84, p. 420. (Dec. 13, -1915.)</p> - -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_283'>283</span> - <h3 class='c014'>9. Faking</h3> -</div> - -<p class='c020'>Faking as a Fine Art. American Magazine, v. 75, p. 24. (Nov. -1912.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Bok, Edward. Why People Disbelieve the Newspapers. World’s -Work, v. 7, p. 4567. (March 1904.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Offenses Against Good Journalism. Outlook, v. 88, p. 479. -(Feb. 29, 1908.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Lying for the Sake of War. Nation, v. 98, p. 561. (May 14, -1914.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Wheeler, H. D. At the Front with Willie Hearst. Harper’s -Weekly, v. 61, p. 340. (Oct. 9, 1915.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Russell, Isaac. Hearst-made War News. Harper’s Weekly, -v. 59, p. 76. (July 25, 1914.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Hearst-made War News. Harper’s Weekly, v. 59, p. 186. (Aug. -22, 1914.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Dream Book. Outlook, v. 111, p. 535. (Nov. 3, 1915.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Hall, Howard. Hearst: War-maker. Harper’s Weekly, v. 61, -p. 436. (Nov. 6, 1915.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Pulitzer, Ralph. Profession of Journalism: Accuracy in the -News. Pamphlet published by the New York World. 1912.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>10. Coloring the News</h3> - -<p class='c020'>Irwin, Will. The Editor and the News. Collier’s Weekly, v. 47, -p. 18. (April 1, 1911.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Irwin, Will. Our Kind of People. Collier’s Weekly, v. 47, p. 17. -(June 17, 1911.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Irwin, Will. The New Era. Collier’s Weekly, v. 47, p. 15. (July -8, 1911.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Irwin, Will. The Press Agent. Collier’s Weekly, v. 48, p. 24. -(Dec. 2, 1911.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Confessions of a Managing Editor. Collier’s Weekly, v. 48, p. 18. -(Oct. 28, 1911.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Tainted News as Seen in the Making. Bookman, v. 24, p. 396. -(Dec. 1906.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Baker, Ray Stannard. How Railroads Make Public Opinion. -McClure’s Magazine, v. 26, p. 535. (March 1906.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>How the Reactionary Press Poisons the Public Mind. Arena, -v. 38, p. 318. (Sept. 1907.)</p> - -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_284'>284</span> - <h3 class='c014'>11. Suppression of News</h3> -</div> - -<p class='c020'>Irwin, Will. The Power of the Press. Collier’s Weekly, v. 46, -p. 15. (Jan. 21, 1911.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Irwin, Will. Advertising Influence. Collier’s Weekly, v. 47, p. 15. -(May 27, 1911.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Irwin, Will. Our Kind of People. Collier’s Weekly, v. 47, p. 17. -(June 17, 1911.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Irwin, Will. The Foe Within. Collier’s Weekly, v. 47, p. 17. -(July 1, 1911.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>The Patent Medicine Conspiracy against the Freedom of the -Press. Collier’s Weekly, v. 36, p. 13. (Nov. 4, 1905.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Silencing the Press. Nation, v. 76, p. 4. (Jan. 1, 1903.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Stansell, C. V. Ethics of News Suppression. Nation, v. 96, -p. 54. (Jan. 16, 1913.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>A Real Case of Tainted News. Collier’s Weekly, v. 53, p. 16. -(June 6, 1914.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Seitz, Don C. The Honor of the Press. Harper’s Weekly, v. 55, -p. 11. (May 6, 1911.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Can the Wool Trust Gag the Press? Collier’s Weekly, v. 46, p. 11. -(March 18, 1911.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Holt, Hamilton. Commercialism and Journalism. 1909.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>12. Editorial Policy and Influence</h3> - -<p class='c020'>Kemp, R. W. The Policy of the Paper. Bookman, v. 20, p. 310. -(Dec. 1904.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Blake, Tiffany. The Editorial: Past, Present, and Future. Collier’s -Weekly, v. 48, p. 18. (Sept. 23, 1911.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>The Editorial Yesterday and To-day. World’s Work, v. 21, -p. 14071. (March 1911.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Editorialene. Nation, v. 74, p. 459. (June 12, 1902.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Irwin, Will. The Unhealthy Alliance. Collier’s Weekly, v. 47, -p. 17. (June 3, 1911.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Shackled Editor. Collier’s Weekly, v. 51, p. 22. (April 12, 1913.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Fisher, Brooke. The Newspaper Industry. Atlantic Monthly, -v. 89, p. 745. (June 1902.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Porritt, Edward. The Value of Political Editorials. Atlantic, -v. 105, p. 62. (Jan. 1910.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Haste, R. A. Evolution of the Fourth Estate. Arena, v. 41, -p. 348. (March 1909.)</p> - -<p class='c021'><span class='pageno' id='Page_285'>285</span>We. Independent, v. 70, p. 1280. (Jan. 8, 1911.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Bonaparte, Charles J. Government of Public Opinion. Forum, -v. 40, p. 384. (Oct. 1908.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Ogden, Rollo. Journalism and Public Opinion. American Political -Science Review, Supplement, v. 7, p. 194. (Feb. -1913.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Williams, Talcott. The Press and Public Opinion. American -Political Science Review, Supplement, v. 7, p. 201. (Feb. -1913.)</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>13. The Associated Press and the United Press</h3> - -<p class='c020'>Beach, H. L. Getting Out the News. Saturday Evening Post, -v. 182, p. 18. (March 12, 1910.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Noyes, F. B. The Associated Press. North American Review, -v. 197, p. 701. (May 1913.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Stone, Melville E. The Associated Press. Century, vv. 69 and -70. (April to Aug. 1905.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Irwin, Will. What’s Wrong with the Associated Press? Harper’s -Weekly, v. 58, p. 10. (March 28, 1914.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Is There a News Monopoly? Collier’s Weekly, v. 53, p. 16. -(June 6, 1914.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Stone, Melville E. The Associated Press: A Defense. Collier’s -Weekly, v. 53, p. 28. (July 11, 1914.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Mason, Gregory. The Associated Press: A Criticism. Outlook, -v. 107, p. 237. (May 30, 1914.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Kennan, George. The Associated Press: A Defense. Outlook, -v. 107, p. 240. (May 30, 1914.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>The Associated Press as a Trust. Literary Digest, v. 48, p. 364. -(Feb. 21, 1914.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>The Associated Press Under Fire. Outlook, v. 106, p. 426. -(Feb. 28, 1914.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Criticisms of the Associated Press. Outlook, v. 107, p. 631. -(July 18, 1914.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Irwin, Will. The United Press. Harper’s Weekly, v. 58, p. 6. -(April 25, 1914.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Roy W. Howard, General Manager of the United Press. American -Magazine, V. 75, p. 41. (Nov. 1912.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Howard, Roy W. Government Regulation for Press Association -in Thorpe’s The Coming Newspaper, pp. 188–204. 1915.</p> - -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_286'>286</span> - <h3 class='c014'>14. Ethics of Newspaper Advertising</h3> -</div> - -<p class='c020'>The Patent Medicine Conspiracy against the Freedom of the -Press. Collier’s Weekly, v. 36, p. 13. (Nov. 4, 1905.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Adams, Samuel Hopkins. The Great American Fraud. A series -of articles in Collier’s Weekly, vv. 36 and 37. (Oct. 7, 1905, -to Sept. 22, 1906.) Published as a book, with the same title, -in 1906.</p> - -<p class='c021'>Creel, George. The Press and Patent Medicines. Harper’s -Weekly, v. 60, p. 155. (Feb. 13, 1915.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Roberts, W. D. Pursued by Cardui. Harper’s Weekly, v. 60, -p. 175. (Feb. 20, 1915.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Waldo, Richard H. The Second Candle of Journalism, in -Thorpe’s The Coming Newspaper, pp. 248–261. 1915.</p> - -<p class='c021'>Roosevelt, Theodore. Applied Ethics in Journalism. Outlook, -v. 97, p. 807. (April 15, 1911.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>The Lure of Fake Sales. Current Opinion, v. 56, p. 223. (March -1914.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Adams, Samuel Hopkins. Tricks of the Trade. Collier’s Weekly, -v. 48, p. 17. (Feb. 17, 1912.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Millions Lost in Fake Enterprises. Outlook, v. 100, p. 797. -(April 13, 1912.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Brummer, F. J. The Home Newspaper and Others. Harper’s -Weekly, v. 58, p. 24. (Jan. 10, 1914.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Houston, H. S. New Morals in Advertising. World’s Work, -v. 28, p. 384. (Aug. 1914.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Stelze, Charles. Publicity Men in a Campaign for Clean Advertising. -Outlook, v. 107, p. 589. (July 11, 1914.)</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>15. Dramatic Criticism</h3> - -<p class='c020'>Confessions of a Dramatic Critic. Independent, v. 60, p. 492. -(March 1, 1906.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Armstrong, Paul, and Davis, Hartley. Manager <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">vs.</span></i> Critic. -Everybody’s Magazine, v. 21, p. 119. (July 1909.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Cudgeling the Dramatic Critics. Literary Digest, v. 48, p. 321. -(Feb. 14, 1914.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Serious Declaration of War Against the Dramatic Critic. Current -Opinion, v. 57, p. 328. (Nov. 1914.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Trials and Duties of a Dramatic Critic. Current Literature, -v. 39, p. 428. (Oct. 1905.)</p> - -<p class='c021'><span class='pageno' id='Page_287'>287</span>William Winter’s Retirement. Independent, v. 67, p. 487. (Aug. -26, 1909.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>The Newspaper and the Theatre. Outlook, v. 93, p. 12. (Sept. -4, 1909.)</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>16. Book-Reviewing in Newspapers</h3> - -<p class='c020'>Perry, Bliss. Literary Criticism in American Periodicals. Yale -Review, v. 3, p. 635. (July 1914).</p> - -<p class='c021'>Grocery-shop Criticism. Dial, v. 57, p. 5. (July 1, 1914.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Reviewing the Reviewer. Nation, v. 98, p. 288. (March 19, -1914.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Varieties of Book-Reviewing. Nation, v. 99, p. 8. (July 2, -1914.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Haines, Helen E. Present-Day Book-Reviewing. Independent, -v. 69, p. 1104. (Nov. 17, 1910.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Benson, A. C. Ethics of Book-Reviewing. Putnam’s, v. 1, -p. 116. (Oct. 1906.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Matthews, Brander. Literary Criticism and Book-Reviewing, -in Gateways to Literature, pp. 115–136. 1912.</p> - -<p class='c021'>Woodward, W. E. Syndicate Service and Tainted Book-Reviews. -Dial, v. 56, p. 173. (March 1, 1914.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Book-Reviewing <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">à la Mode</span></i>. Nation, v. 93, p. 139. (Aug. 17, -1911.)</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>17. Newspaper Style</h3> - -<p class='c020'>Journalistic Style. Independent, v. 64, p. 541. (March 5, 1908.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Newspaper English. Literary Digest, v. 47, p. 1229. (Dec. 20, -1913.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Scott, Fred Newton. The Undefended Gate. English Journal, -v. 3, p. 1. (Jan. 1914.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Bradford, Gamaliel. Journalism and Permanence. North -American Review, v. 202, pp. 239–241. (Aug. 1915.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Henry James on Newspaper English. Current Literature, v. 39, -p. 155. (Aug. 1905.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Boynton, H. W. The Literary Aspect of Journalism. Atlantic -Monthly, v. 93, p. 845. (June, 1904.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Perils of Punch. Nation, v. 100, p. 240. (March 4, 1915.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Mr. Hardy and Our Headlines. World’s Work, v. 24, p. 385. -(Aug. 1912.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Lowes, J. L. Headline English. Nation, v. 96, p. 179. (Feb. -20, 1913.)</p> - -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_288'>288</span> - <h3 class='c014'>18. Newspapers and the Law</h3> -</div> - -<p class='c020'>Schofield, Henry. Freedom of the Press in the United States. -Papers and Proceedings of the American Sociological Society, -v. 9, p. 67. 1914.</p> - -<p class='c021'>Grasty, C. H. Reasonable Restrictions upon the Freedom of -the Press and Discussion. Papers and Proceedings of the -American Sociological Society, v. 9, p. 117. 1914.</p> - -<p class='c021'>White, Isaac D. The Clubber in Journalism, in Thorpe’s The -Coming Newspaper, pp. 81–90. 1915.</p> - -<p class='c021'>Bourne, Jonathan. The Newspaper Publicity Law. Review of -Reviews, v. 47, p. 175. (Feb. 1913.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Newspapers Opposing Publicity. Literary Digest, v. 45, p. 607. -(Oct. 12, 1912.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Smith, C. E. The Press: Its Liberty and License. Independent, -v. 55, p. 1371. (June 11, 1903.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Gamer, J. W. Trial by Newspapers. Journal of Criminal Law, -v. 1, p. 849. (Mar. 1911.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Keedy, E. R. Third Degree and Trial by Newspapers. Journal -of Criminal Law, v. 3, p. 502. (Nov. 1912.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Gilbert, S. Newspapers as Judiciary. American Journal of -Sociology, v. 12, p. 289. (Nov. 1906.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>O’Hara, Barratt. State License for Newspaper Men, in Thorpe’s -The Coming Newspaper, pp. 148–161. 1915.</p> - -<p class='c021'>Lawrence, David. International Freedom of the Press Essential -to a Durable Peace. Annals of the American Academy, -v. 72, p. 139. (July 1917.)</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>19. The Country Newspaper</h3> - -<p class='c020'>White, William Allen. The Country Newspaper. Harper’s -Magazine, v. 132, p. 887. (May 1916.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Tennal, Ralph. A Modern Type of Country Journalism, in -Thorpe’s The Coming Newspaper, pp. 112–147. 1915.</p> - -<p class='c021'>Bing, P. C. The Country Weekly. 1917.</p> - -<h3 class='c014'>20. Newspapers of the Future</h3> - -<p class='c020'>Irwin, Will. The Voice of a Generation. Collier’s Weekly, -v. 47, p. 15. (July 29, 1911.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Low, A. Maurice. The Modern Newspaper as It Might Be. -Yale Review, v. 2, p. 282. (Jan. 1913.)</p> - -<p class='c021'><span class='pageno' id='Page_289'>289</span>Thorpe, Merle, <em>editor</em>. The Coming Newspaper, pp. 1–26. 1915.</p> - -<p class='c021'>Munsey, Frank A. Journalism of the Future. Munsey Magazine, -v. 28, p. 662. (Feb. 1903.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Ideal Newspaper. Current Literature, v. 48, p. 335. (March -1910.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Murray, W. H. An Endowed Press. Arena, v. 2, p. 553. (Oct. -1890.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Payne, W. M. An Endowed Newspaper, in Little Leaders, -p. 178–185. 1902.</p> - -<p class='c021'>Endowed Journalism. Literary Digest, v. 45, p. 303. (Aug. 24, -1912.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Holt, Hamilton. Plan for an Endowed Journal. Independent, -v. 73, p. 299. (Aug. 12, 1912.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Taking the Endowed Newspaper Seriously. Current Literature, -v. 53, p. 311. (Sept. 1912.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Municipal Newspaper, The. Independent, v. 71, p. 1342. (Dec. -14, 1911.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Municipal Newspapers. Survey, v. 26, p. 720. (Aug. 19, 1911.)</p> - -<p class='c021'>Slosson, E. E. The Possibility of a University Newspaper. -Independent, v. 72, p. 351. (Feb. 15, 1912.)</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_290'>290</span> - <h2 class='c008'>NOTES ON THE WRITERS</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'><span class='sc'>Rollo Ogden</span> became a member of the editorial staff of the -<cite>New York Evening Post</cite> in 1891, and has been editor of that -paper since 1903. He edited the <cite>Life and Letters of Edwin -Lawrence Godkin</cite>, published in 1907. His article on “Some -Aspects of Journalism” was published in the <cite>Atlantic Monthly</cite> -for July, 1906.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Oswald Garrison Villard</span>, whose article, entitled “Press -Tendencies and Dangers,” appeared in the <cite>Atlantic</cite> for January, -1918, is a son of the late Henry Villard, who owned the <cite>New York -Evening Post</cite> and the <cite>Nation</cite>, and a grandson of William Lloyd -Garrison, the great emancipator and editor of the <cite>Liberator</cite>. He -succeeded his father as president of the <cite>New York Evening Post</cite> -and of the <cite>Nation</cite>, to both of which he frequently contributes -editorials and special articles.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Francis E. Leupp</span> was actively engaged in newspaper work -for thirty years, from the time that he joined the staff of the -<cite>New York Evening Post</cite> in 1874 until 1904. During half of that -time, from 1889 to 1904, he was in charge of the Washington -bureau of the <cite>Post</cite>. Since retiring from that position, he has -been doing literary work. His article on “The Waning Power -of the Press” was published in the <cite>Atlantic</cite> for February, 1910.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>H. L. Mencken</span> was connected with Baltimore newspapers for -nearly twenty years, part of the time as city editor and later as -editor of the <cite>Baltimore Herald</cite>, and for the last twelve years as a -member of the staff of the <cite>Baltimore Sun</cite>, from which he has -recently severed his connection. He is now one of the editors of -<cite>Smart Set</cite>. “Newspaper Morals” was printed in the <cite>Atlantic</cite> -for March, 1914.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Ralph Pulitzer</span>, who wrote his reply to Mr. Mencken’s -article for the <cite>Atlantic</cite> for June, 1914, is a son of the late Joseph -Pulitzer of the <cite>New York World</cite> and the <cite>St. Louis Post-Dispatch</cite>. -He began newspaper work in 1900, and since 1911 has been president -of the company that publishes the <cite>World</cite>. He takes an -<span class='pageno' id='Page_291'>291</span>active part in the direction of the editorial and news policies of -that paper.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Professor Edward A. Ross</span> has been an aggressive pioneer -in the field of sociology in this country and has written many -books on social problems. His study of the suppression of news, -the results of which were published in the <cite>Atlantic</cite> for March, -1910, grew out of his interest in the newspaper as a social force.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Henry Watterson</span>, who takes issue with Professor Ross in -his article on “The Personal Equation in Journalism,” in the -<cite>Atlantic</cite> for July, 1910, is the last of the great editorial leaders of -Civil War days. For half a century his trenchant editorial comments -in the <cite>Louisville Courier-Journal</cite>, of which he has been the -editor since 1868, have been reprinted in newspapers all over the -country.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>An Observer</span> has seen much service as the Washington correspondent -of an important newspaper. “The Problem of the -Associated Press” was printed in the <cite>Atlantic</cite> for July, 1914.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Melville E. Stone</span>, who defends the Associated Press, has -been its general manager for twenty-five years. Previous to his -connection with that organization he was associated with Victor -F. Lawson in the establishment and development of the <cite>Chicago -Daily News</cite>. He has written a number of articles on the work of -the Associated Press.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“<span class='sc'>Paracelsus</span>” sketches briefly his own career in journalism -in his “Confessions of a Provincial Editor,” published in the -<cite>Atlantic</cite> for March, 1902.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Charles Moreau Harger</span>, as head of the department of -journalism at the University of Kansas from 1905 to 1907, was -one of the first college instructors of journalism in this country. -At the same time he was editor of the <cite>Abilene</cite> (Kan.) <cite>Daily -Reflector</cite>, which he has published for thirty years. “The Country -Editor of To-day” is taken from the <cite>Atlantic</cite> for January, 1907, -and “Journalism as a Career,” from that for February, 1911.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>George W. Alger</span>, author of the article on “Sensational -Journalism and the Law,” in the <cite>Atlantic</cite> for February, 1903, has -been engaged in the practice of law in New York City for many -<span class='pageno' id='Page_292'>292</span>years. He has taken an active part in the framing of New York -state laws protecting workers. Two books of his, <cite>Moral Overstrain</cite>, -1906, and <cite>The Old Law and the New Order</cite>, 1913, deal -with the relation of the law to social, commercial, and industrial -problems.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Richard Washburn Child</span>, although a lawyer, is best known -to the reading public as the author of novels and short stories, -many of which have been published in magazines. His article -on “The Critic and the Law” appeared in the <cite>Atlantic</cite> for May, -1906.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Charles Miner Thompson</span>, editor-in-chief of <cite>Youth’s Companion</cite>, -has been a member of the staff of that periodical since -1890. Previous to that time he was literary editor of the <cite>Boston -Advertiser</cite>. “Honest Literary Criticism” was published in the -<cite>Atlantic</cite> for August, 1908.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>James S. Metcalfe</span> has been dramatic editor of <cite>Life</cite> for -nearly thirty years. In 1915 he established the Metcalfe dramatic -prize at Yale University, his alma mater. His article on -“Dramatic Criticism in the American Press” appeared in the -<cite>Atlantic</cite> for April, 1918.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Ralph Bergengren</span> has been cartoonist, art critic, dramatic -critic, and editorial writer on various Boston newspapers, and is -a frequent contributor to magazines. “The Humor of the Colored -Supplement” is taken from the <cite>Atlantic</cite> for August, 1906.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>James H. Collins</span>, whose article on “The American Grub -Street” appeared in the <cite>Atlantic</cite> for November, 1906, is a New -York publisher, best known as the writer of articles on business -methods published in the <cite>Saturday Evening Post</cite>.</p> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c006' /> -</div> - -<div class='section ph2'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c001'> - <div>OTHER ATLANTIC TEXTS</div> - <div>FOR THE PROGRESSIVE TEACHER</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class='figcenter id001'> -<img src='images/i_293.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<div class='section ph2'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c001'> - <div>ESSAYS AND ESSAY WRITING</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c005'> - <div>Edited, with Notes and Introduction, by <span class='sc'>William M. Tanner</span></div> - <div class='c006'><em>University of Texas.</em></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>This book is a collection of about seventy-five short familiar essays -selected from the Contributors’ Club of <cite>The Atlantic Monthly</cite> -and specially edited for use in advanced high school work, as well as -in college English. The selections, of about one thousand words -each, are classified under five types of the familiar essay, each type-group -preceded by a concise statement of its distinguishing characteristics. -An introduction, with suggestions for study, specific questions, -and a list of 250 suggestive titles for original essays, renders the volume -unusually valuable as a textbook for classes in composition.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It is the aim of <cite>Essays and Essay Writing</cite> to encourage the student -in discovering his own ideas and in expressing his thought in as clear, -personal, fresh, vigorous, and correct style as he can develop. An -attempt is made to assist both student and teacher to get away from -the rather trite, impersonal composition, or ‘weekly theme’. Originality, -clearness, simplicity, ease, and naturalness of expression are -qualities emphasized throughout the book.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Among the titles included in the Table of Contents are essays -on such everyday subjects as ‘The Saturday Night Bath’, ‘Furnace -and I’, ‘The Daily Theme Eye’, ‘On Noses’, and others, which readers -of <cite>The Atlantic Monthly</cite> have particularly appreciated, and which -both students and teachers have welcomed with new interest.</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>For advanced High School and College Classes.</div> - <div class='c006'><em>Examination copies sent to teachers on request.</em></div> - <div class='c006'>$1.00, postpaid; school rate, 80 cents, carriage additional.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='section ph3'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c005'> - <div>ATLANTIC NARRATIVES, First Series</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>Selected and Edited by <span class='sc'>Charles Swain Thomas</span>, A.M.</div> - <div class='c006'><em>Head of the English Department, Newton (Mass.) High School, and Lecturer in the Harvard Summer School</em></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>This book contains twenty-three short stories of unusual merit -which have appeared in <cite>The Atlantic Monthly</cite>. Chosen for their -high literary value and for their freshness, modernity, and human -interest, these stories are typical of the best work of John Galsworthy, -Dallas Lore Sharp, Henry Seidel Canby, Katharine Fullerton Gerould, -E. Nesbit, Margaret Prescott Montague, and other leading -writers of England and America.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Although a delightful book for the general reader, <cite>Atlantic Narratives</cite> -is published especially for use in college classes in English. -In addition to acquainting students with the best in contemporary -short stories, it will help them to compare and discuss intelligently -the most eminent story-tellers, <em>not of yesterday, but of to-day</em>—the -men and women who are <em>now</em> writing for our better publications, and -whose works must be included in any scheme of education in English -which is not one-sided.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The volume contains a general introduction, including a suggestive -discussion of the modern short story, critical comments upon each -story, and brief biographical notes. The editor has aimed to make, -not a ‘textbook’ containing short stories, but a book of short stories -so good that it will be used as a text.</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><cite>Examination copies sent to teachers on request.</cite></div> - <div>$1.00, postpaid; school rate, 80 cents, carriage additional.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='section ph3'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c005'> - <div>ATLANTIC NARRATIVES, Second Series</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><em>in preparation</em></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>Similar to Atlantic Narratives First Series, but intended for the -use of younger students, this collection of Atlantic short stories -is selected and edited for secondary schools.</p> - -<div class='section ph2'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c001'> - <div>THE ATLANTIC CLASSICS SERIES</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<p class='c009'>Although both series of ATLANTIC CLASSICS are intended -primarily for the general reader, both are being used with success -in classes in American literature. These collections of <cite>Atlantic -Monthly</cite> essays present the work of some of our best contemporary -authors. The fact that these distinguished men and women are still -writing, cannot fail to quicken the student’s interest both in them -and in the essays as subjects of study.</p> - -<div class='section ph3'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c005'> - <div>ATLANTIC CLASSICS, First Series</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<p class='c010'>The sixteen essays in this volume include among others: ‘Turtle -Eggs for Agassiz’ by Dallas Lore Sharp; ‘A Father to his Freshman -Son’ by Edward Sanford Martin, ‘Reminiscence with Postscript’ by -Owen Wister, ‘The Provincial American’ by Meredith Nicholson, -‘The Street’ by Simson Strunsky, ‘A Confession in Prose’ by Walter -Prichard Eaton, and ‘Our Lady Poverty’ by Agnes Repplier.</p> - -<div class='section ph3'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c005'> - <div>ATLANTIC CLASSICS, Second Series</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<p class='c010'>Among the essays contained in this collection are ‘Every Man’s -Natural Desire to be Somebody Else’ by Samuel McChord Crothers, -‘The Devil Baby at Hull House’ by Jane Addams, ‘The Greek -Genius’ by John Jay Chapman, ‘Haunted Lives’ by Laura Spencer -Portor, ‘Jungle Night’ by William Beebe, and others of equal interest -to the general reader and to the young student.</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>Suitable for College and advanced High School classes.</div> - <div class='c006'><em>Examination copies of either book sent to teachers on request.</em></div> - <div class='c006'>Each $1.25, postpaid; school rate, 83 cents, carriage additional.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c005'> - <div><span class='sc'>THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY PRESS, Inc.</span></div> - <div class='c006'>41 MOUNT VERNON STREET, BOSTON</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c006' /> -</div> -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='section ph2'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c001'> - <div>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - - <ol class='ol_1 c005'> - <li>Silently corrected typographical errors and variations in spelling. - - </li> - <li>Archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings retained as printed. - - </li> - <li>Footnotes have been re-indexed using numbers. - </li> - </ol> - -</div> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Profession of Journalism, by Various - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PROFESSION OF JOURNALISM *** - -***** This file should be named 61982-h.htm or 61982-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/1/9/8/61982/ - -Produced by Richard Tonsing and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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