Des Arc weekly citizen., 1867-11-16
The Editorial Profession.

| A viscous characteristic of the news paper is its denial of leisure. A very \ Sysiphus is the journalist, up the high hill he heaves huge round stone.' Once begun. there is no cessatioii possi- ble, no little concession to fatigue or unusual inertia. The compositor has his substitute, but not so the editor, for whom vacations are hard to get; he may babble of green fields, and long to thrust his nose into the grass and smell the fresh earth of June, but he is al- ways one of those who do not leave town in summer. He can find no de- light in books, he never reads, for types are an enemy he hates, and wishes at times that he might never see then. again. The pen is unsuitable; to-day's work can never be thrown over upon tomorrow. There is no time to read anything, or to go below the surtace of any thing. s 9 2 He is forever kept from doing any thing worthy of himself by his constant fatigue, and by being denied any time for thorough work he is a sculptor who does not more than strike out the rude outlines of statue before he must leave it for another block. The editors life is bundle of broken at tempts, a perpetual beginning without finishing. The energy and the con structive ability which might, with time and leisurely study granted, write something worthy of living, is frittered away upon little details. aimlessly, ex- cept to earn onc's daily bread, and sat- isiy the daily appetite of the public for something new. The journalist makes half baked bricks, but never constructs a building. Rome was not built in $ day, but the newspapers must be.
 The best newspaper men arc the fair average workers who never vary or fail in the emergency. Of course, versa tility is valuable, and so is speed; but the indispensable qualities are pluck and endurance. In the language Of the turf, wind is worth more eventual ly than mere speed of foot; and with out endurance all of the qualifications are like gold in an exhausted swim- mcr's pocket. No man who has drop of the Harold Skimpolc or the old Turveydrop blood in him should ever step inside of an editorial room; /; if he abhors praeticability and small details, when he proposes editorial work, he is thirsty man going to settle in n desert. Such an overwhelming throng of details. such an inconceivably unin- teresting routine, is not to be found elsewh here, unless in the fairy-tale task of picking up the fallen leaves of De- tober, and replacing each on its own twig.
 It is mistake to think editorial work chiefly original composition. This is but small part of it, and there are q dozen good writers where there is one good editor; but the writing alone is enough to overbear a man. Almost every cultivated man has times when he would like the opportunity of pub lie expression which newspaper affords. and it would be then easy for him to write, and write vigorously; it is even probable that many readers could write better than some editors, just as it is certain that the best conversational abi ity which discusses public ques- tions would greatly improve public l journals if it could be transferred to their columns. But reiteration tells. It is very easy matter to write a news paper article, say you? Not quite so easy as you imagine if you have never tried but grant that it is not very hard. There is an old puzzle about a man who
 made rule to lift his calf every day, which he could easily do, and so he went oh until it had become a bullock. | A<m .