The Sun.
London, England, 1840-05-13 00:00:00

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TRIBULATIONS OF THE FRENCH
PROVINCIAL JOURNALIST.

/

Ye, who every morning regularly receire ycur news-
paper, and quietly read it during or after your breakfast,
ye little know what tribulations assail the journalist who
has written it, and to what torments he is a prey ! 1
shall say nothing even of the torments he may deriee
from the laws upon the press, those of September for
instanoe. This is but the smallest portion of his mise-
ries ; he may, at least, trust in a jury, confide in its
verdict, and escape fines and imprisonment. But the
little tribulations, the tribulations of every day, every
moment, unknown to the Parisian journalist, and which
he of the provinces cannot avoid—these, these are what
render his life a hard one, and make him a truly un-
happy being.
In the first place he is deprived of that mysterious
splendour which, in the eyes of the vulgar, and ( spe-
cially of subscribers, surrounds the journalists of the
capital, and brightens their writings in proportion to
the darkness in which the writers conecel tliemselvee.
Tim provincial journalist represents his journal materi-
ally and ostensibly ; it is publicity in flesh and lieu.
and hie range, however extensive, is contracted in many
eyes within the limits of his own person ; thus the re-
sponsibility for every thing expressed in his pages falls
upon his shoulders. In vain does he attempt to shc!ter
himself behind the rampart of co-operation, and of com-
municated articles ; he alone is seen, kneel), area ,te_
cused. Does he happen to pass' It is not only he,
but his journal that passes ; he is given its very name,
which will even in course of time obliterate his own
family name, so that if be have had the mistortune to
marry, his posterity may possibly retain sue;, eppellation,
as was long the case with tenet prolession.s.
Shall we next introduce you into, not the sanctuary,
but the glasshouse, the transparent laboratory wherein
the source of his woes is composed. What tribulations
to be detailed ! The first of these torments are the col-
laborateurs. You, no doubt, imagine that the editor
has but to roll upon a bed et roses, ha having hut the
truuble of selecting from billows of wit, mines of epi-
grams, mountains of poetry, and to reap the whole honours
of this precious co-operation. You are completely mis-
taken. The collaborateurs are, in general, the most
te-
dious and tiresome ofall folks. The collaborateur will be
the master of the journal ; he will have his article ever
considered the most important ; it must figure conspice•
ously, such tgla4 the beginning of the first page ; ifea stop '
or a comma bk9mii4o4oaciriltrosclowpZjil re is
Abomination! You must admire his mile e w ten- he brings it to you in the shape of a scrawl ; you must
listen to it again when he corrects the proofs ; you must
read a proof yourself once more, on pretence that some
error may have escaped him, but in reality that you
may ha made to enjoy it once again, and lucky will you
be if, the article being printed, and the paper published,
he does not come and read it to you once more, in or-
der that none of its beauties may escape you.
The advertisements, which appear all prcfit, have
also their unpleasant side. In the reception of them
the journalist, unless he have a special mirii,ter for that
department, is compelled to descend from the highest
region of politics, and literature, and science, to the
vulg-arest expressions of mutter. How can he remain
in those sublime regions, in the presence of MM.
Piece's and Gucria, and their orthopedical institution—
in presence of the " Racahout des Arabea," the
Nafe d'Arabie," the " Cols Crinoline Oudinot,r
berghoffers' razor-strops, of fathers who won't pay
their sons' debts, or husbands warning shopkeepers not
to give credit to their wives ? Add to this, the good
folks who wish to say a thing, hut in such manner as not
to appear to have said it, and who are outrageous be-
cause the editor cannot express what they will, and
wont say. Then come the enigmatic edvertisecrientee
whose spelling and meaning baffle the devil's own wise
—the teacher of belles-letters, the professor of lane
guages indistinctly teaching, and with equal depth,
French, German, Greek, English, Italian, Leith', He-
brew, Arabic, and indignant et his new system having
been advertised between a new method of destroying
rats, or a reward for the recovery of a stray poodle.
When you get rid of the professor, in will rush a board-
ing-school keeper, exasperated at his prospectus, wherein
education, founded upon religion and morality, is com-
bined with wholesome and copious food, having ap-
peared, followed by an advertisement for the capture of
a swindler or the cure of consumption.
The chapter of the subscribers is not the least fruit-
ful In tribulations of all descriptions. In general the
subscriber is an essentially tyrannical being. When he
mentions the Journal he will say " my Journal," as he
would say "my horse," or "my garden." He deals
with it as if it were his property, and fancies he has
signed an irresistible order, when, at the bottom of a
remonstrance, he has put " A subscriber." Should he
hear any body find fault with anything whatever ,
" Leave that to me," will he say, " I shall hare some
words about it put into my Journal." In vain does
the Editor urge that their situations are reciprocally in-
dependent,and that because one sells printedand stamped
paper one is not more obliged to the buyer than the sub-
scriber would be to the Journalist if the latter bought
muslin in the other's shop ; the ferocious subscriber is deaf
to all arguments. " From the moment Twill he exclaim,
" that the journal will not oblige the subscriber, I see
not wherefore the subscriber should still take in the
journal."

- This is not all. There is no end to the taste and the
whims of the subscribers. One fond of fires and sui-
cides will write to the editor : " Let me have detailed
accounts of all the chimney-fires end crimes occurring
in the district, or I shall give you up." Another likes
light merry tales, and threatens a defection, should the
journal continue in a serious mood. Madame is for the
fashions, and asks of what use a paper is that tells her
not of them ; Monsieur prefers politics ; Mademoiselle
pounces• upon the fiwilleton, and looks daggers if it
yield not a lose story. Hence 48 many remonstrances
to be added to a hundred others.

The relations, friends, acquaintance, and neighbours
of the journalist are likewise so many galling thorns in
his sides. It is an endless series of privileges whereof
each of them claims the enjoyment. The cousin will
have a lamp before his door, and thereupon requires as
article to prove that the safety of the whole city de-
pends upon the establishment of the said lamp ; the
friend begs that you will devise some ingenious and
novel method et puffing his shop, al►Fays on the plea
of public utility ; tho neighbour has a house threatening
ruin, and insists upon a tirade against the diligence,
which passes his door full gallop, and makes his crazy
dwelling tremble ; another wiil have a new street opened
for the benefit of the country, and because his pre-
mises will thereby enjoy more copious light. If the
unfortunate journalist resists these patriotic demands he
is proclaimed a bad relation, a bad friend, a bad neigh-
bour, a bad citizen, and, what is most serious, relations,
friends, acquaintances, and neighbours are foremost to
say, " What is a journal good for that is useful to
nobody?"

Next to the persecution of friends comes that of
enemies, and I verily believe that the martyrs of the
press prefer the latter, which at least tortures them but
from a distance. The enemies of the provincial jour-
nalists are folks who have ideas when he adopts some
contrary to theirs ; and folks without any ideas at
all, when ho happens to have a few of his own.
Such are all public men whom he does not exefusiielf
extol, all the orators whom be does not compare
with Demosthenes or Cicero, all the administrators
whom be won't call Sullys, in short, all persons whose
self-love or interest he happens to touch directly or in-
directly. And what is more irritable than self-love,
what can one touch without touching somebody or
something? In short, harrassed from all quarters,
hated by some, feared by others, the provincial jour-
nalist who does his duty is a sort of porcupine, whose
every motion produces a voluntary of involuntary
scratch. It is a career which throws atones into many
gardens, but receives them from everybody. It is a
bell which, to warn some, Is obliged to wake the rest.
Nevertheless, one thing consoles, which is, that if it be
hostile to a few it is profitable to all, just as rain is. It
is, however, I must add, often enough—emu/art or
corn rue ht place.—French Paper.

DR. CHALMERS.

(From the Yorkshireman.)

" Where, and oh where, is my Highland laddie gone?"
The Sun asks, what has become of Dr. Chalmers
The Doctor, we can assure our contemporary, is in a
dreadful predicament, and is at present in that
place by John Bunyan called " the Slough of
Despond." Puck, or some other of those mischievous
spirits that taunt the Scottish lakes, last year put it
into Dr. Chalmers's head to hazard his well-earned re-
putation by obeying the invitation of the extreme
Church party in London, to deliver a course of lectures
in favour of Established Churches. The cunning gentry of
London overreached the canny Scot. They pushed him
into a false position ; and people tittered at seeing a
presbyterian defending an episcopal establishment !
Chalmers, however, thought himself well paid by being
recognised and made much of by the dignitaries of the
English Church. His vanity blinded the eyes of his
good sense. But see how the case is altered now.
Last year Dr. Chalmers was delivering a course of lee»
tures, proving the advantages of a union of Churches
with the State :—This 'ear the doctor is fighting
with bare arm and drawn sword for the Scottish
Church against the State, and declares that he
fears the State will destroy the Church !—Last year
Dr. Chalmers was the pet of Episcopacy ; the
friend, brother, and champion of the English Established
Church :—This year Dr. Phillpotts, Lord Bishop of
Exeter, declares with uplifted hands, in the House of
Lords, that he does not consider the Church of Scotland
" to be a Church," and the whole ef the Tory press and
the rapacious portion of the Episcopal party bask the
Bishop, for the sake of pocketing the Clergy Reserves
in Canada! Last year Chalmers was all in all—now
the Scotch Church is declared by his sycophants not to
be a " Protestant Church," and the poor. Professor is—
" No longer courted and earossed,
High placed in hall a welcome guest
Won may 2Vie Slag, ask, What has become of Dr.
I Chalmers ?