Year: 1871

were the DelicS OF Jne parties, ana now
they were dressed; and we know while
we read that the ladies who gave the
parties gave also the information con-
cerning them, and were glad to see the
reports in print Weddings, which
should be sacred to kindred and closest
friends, are turned into public shows;


and trousseaus are inventoried by the


daily prints and spread before the


country. IL is not enough that one


marriage be published when it takes


place, but the engagement must be


bruited in jenkins Journal, jenkins


having previously been assured that the


announcement would not be offensive,


and subsequently repaid by an order for


extra papers. The inanities of the Court


Journal, over which Americans we're in


the habit of laughing dozen years ago,


are more than matched by the daily re-


port of the movements of every man of


title, or place, or notoriety. When q


woman lectures, the. reporters under


stand that the first thing people wish to


learn about her relates to her face, figure


and dress; and that is the first thing


they write about. The women of the


platform-being all very sensible women,


and too wise to be vain-are of course


offended by this treatment; but it some


how happens that the reports are gem


orally of flattering character.


1t would be possible to get along with
all this. A man may become used to
smothering his sense Of humiliation and
disgust when reading the public record
of private life, so long as that record is
made with the consent, or at the wish,
of those to whom it relates; but it hap
pens that we have in America now
prowling, prying, far-seeing, vivacious,
loquacious, voracious being known as
the local editor, who must get a living,
and who lives only upon items. If a
man sneeze twice in his presence,
the local column of the morning paper
will contain the announcement that
our esteemed fellow citizen is suffering
from severe cold" If man lose his
hat in high wind, it excites the mirth
of the local editor to the extent of dozen
lines. He amplifes an accident that
kills, or scandal that ruins, with mar
velous minuteness of detail. His eye is at
every mans back door, to see and report
who and what go and come. There is
nothing safe from his pen. All the pri-
vate affairs of the community for which
he writes are published to that commu-
nifty every day. If man shoots dog,
or catches string Of trout, or rides out
for his health, or is seen mysteriously
leaving town on an evening train, or sells
a horse, or buys COW, or gives dinner
party, or looks sallow, or grows fat, or
smiles upon widow, or renews the wall
paper of his house, he gives the local
editor an item. The local editor turns
the houses of the community inside out
every day, and keeps the windows open
by which the secrets and sanctities Of
every home are exposed to public view.


The local editor is, we regret to say,
not without excuse. Occasionally some
indignant victim of his prying and pub.
fishing propensities scourges or scolds
him; but it must be confessed, with sor
row and shame, that his local column
finds greedy market. Instead of
frowning upon the liberty he takes with
persons and homes, and the details of
individual private life, the multitude
read his column first of all. That its
results are mischievous and demoral
izing in their ministry to neighborhood
gossip and scandal, there is no doubt.
Among its worst results is the destruc-
ton of all reverence for the right of
every private man to live privately and
of every home to live with its windows
closed There is unquestionably de-
sire in certain sort of private life to
get into the papers-a desire to spread
all the details of its doings before the
world. This life may be high or low,
fashionable or Questionable, but it is
irredeemably vulgar, and can only dis
gust every selfrespectful and dignified
man and woman. Let us protest on be-
half of deceney against the familiar
treatment which the retiring and the
receive in the local column,
and in the more ambitious performances
of the omnipresent Jenkins. Let us at
least have the privilege of repeating the
cry of Betsy Trotwood when her little
patch of green was invaded: Janet
donkeysl" = Dr.. j. q. Holland in
Scribner's for June.