Year: 1873

There is a man who sits far into the


night with paste-pot and scissors be-
fore him, and pencil in hand, while


around him are piled newspapers OI
all grades. sizes, cOlOrs and political


prOclivities, and from almost every


conceivable locality. He rapidly


reads, cuts, pastes and writes. In
stiDctively be rejects all that is bad,
and his eye detects all that is good in
the hooks and corners Of the scores of
exchanges" which pass through his
hand in a few hours. II he remem-


bered one-tenth OF all he reads be
would be a prodigy Of varied learning
and by and by he would probably
find his place in a lunatic asylum
Then he varies the wearisome routine
by writing; not slowly and laborious-
ly, but rapidly, dlseursively and some
times brilliantly. What he does he
does just as he pleases, but as q daily
and unending task. Every night as
he creeps homeward in the small
hours, the subject of the next "lea-
der' ereeps through his tired brain,
and in the morning the necessity for
immediate action stares him in the
face. Why these late hours and this
silent, careful, absorbing work This
man is the editor of a daily paper and
every night he and his companions
are preparing the literary breakfast
for sleeping world.


1t is a strange life he leads, and q
strange world he works in. He wields
a power in the land, but, contrary to
general rule, he is almost an unknown
man. AS a general statement, neith-
er great pecuniary reward or fame
await him. He performs work which
only the NAH born to the task can
successfully perform. In him are
necessary qualities Of skill, tact, judg-
ment. fair scholarship, large fund Of
current intelligence, GOODNESS, and ca
pacity for rapid work with few errors,
and lastly that indefiable talent for
pleasing the many and offending the
few, and Yet accomplishing a specific
and often a partisan purpose.


Journalism is profession, and the
editor is strictly a professional man.
To him belongs only the kind OF fame
which pertains to professional skill,
even il he be famous at all. After
wears of skillful toll he is almost un-
known upon the street, and has the
credit he deserves only among his
equally unknown brethren Of the
press. Indeed the great majority OF
the workers in the worlds most po-
tent and evanescent literature are not
known at all. Scarcely a man in all
England knows to q certainty who is
the controlling spirit of the London
Times, and there are few who care
In less remarkable instances than that
a newspaper becomes popular, in.
creases in circulation, makes Itself q
pecuniary success and political pow
er in the land, and not poor dozen
OF all its twenty, or fifty, or hundred
thousand readers ever gives thought
to the pervading and unknown per-
sonality that made it all it Is.


From these facts it is plain that
journalism is something still more
than a profession, it is also q passion.
The kind of men who make 8 news
paper a success where IL is one, are
not apt to work for money alone even
il amply paid pecuniarly. There is
a reward in il somewhere, a hope. a
qualification; and the reward must be
in a personal pleasure in the peculiar
work. 1t is true that the projectors
and proprietOrs of newspapers have
generally a pecuniary object in view,
but we are speaking of the men who
daily make the newspaper all it is In
the popular miGd-whO sctually give
il its character ana that wealth which
fire cannot destroy, and which is en'
tlrely unique in the commercial, val.
ue estimating world.


II is only Of late years that the
has become an extensive
part of what may be called the men
tai industries. Times have indeed
changed since Ben franklin pulled
his rude platen down upon the form
of old-fashiOned type. In these times