which so emphatically mark midsummer in America, make that wonderful chart
of life, the daily newspaper, more sought and enjoyed than at any other
time. From the merchant in his counting-room to the stranger in the
hotel-parlour, from the passenger in suburban cars and steamboats to the
teamster waiting for a job, there is observable a patience and attention
in reading newspapers such as one seldom perceives at more busy periods of
the year. And if we were to cite a single characteristic sign of the
times, as of universal import, it would be American journalism. The
avidity with which the papers are seized at watering places, the habit of
making their contents the staple of talk, and the manner in which they are
conducted in order to meet the popular demands, are facts indicative of
modern civilization which no one can ignore who would rightly appreciate
its tendency and traits. These are brought out and made conscious, to a
remarkable degree, in the leisure intervals which midsummer alone affords
to our active and busy people.
The truth is that newspaper reading is the exclusive mental pabulum of a
vast number in this country; and to this circumstance is to be ascribed
the amount of general information, and ready, though superficial ideas, on
all kinds of subjects, which so astonish foreigners. If you converse with
your neighbour in the railway cars, or listen to the remarks at the _table
d'hôte_, hear what the farmers, mechanics, tradesmen, and gentlemen, so
gregariously locomotive now, have to say--you will find that the daily
press furnishes nine-tenths of the subject-matter and the speculative
inspiration. There never was a time or a country where this 'fourth
estate,' as it has been well called, enacted so broad and vital a
function. Every year our press has become more personal and local on the
one hand, and more comprehensive on the other. Cowper's idea of seeing
life through the 'loop-holes of retreat,' can now be realized as never
before. However sequestered may be the summer home of our citizens, they
have but to con the daily journals and know all that goes on in the great
world, with a detail as to events, persons, and places, which not only
satisfies curiosity, but imagination. Nothing is too abstract for the
discussion, or too trivial for the gossip, of the American journal. It
concentrates the record of daily life at home and abroad; and has so
encroached upon the province of the old essayists, the excitements of
fiction and the materials of history, that more or less of the literature
of each may be found in every well-conducted newspaper.
And yet so undesirable is the unseasonable or excessive dependence upon
newspaper reading, considered with reference to high culture and refined
individuality, that, of all indirect benefits of modern travel, perhaps
none is more valuable, as a mental experience, than an Eastern tour which
cuts off the usual excitements and routine of civilized life, and
especially that intense and absolute relation with the present fostered
by the newspaper. Under the palms, on the Nile, and amid the desert, to a
thoughtful mind and sensitive organization, it is blissful and auspicious
to feel isolated awhile, not only from the busy material life of the age,
but from its chart and programme--the newspaper; and so be able to live
consciously for a season in the past, and feel the solemn spell of
solitude and antiquity. The modern deluge of journalism, it has been said,
with more truth than we can at present quite appreciate, 'bereaves life of
spirituality, disturbs and overlays individuality, and often becomes a
mania and a nuisance, to keep out of which is the only way to keep sacred.
It is a sad barbarism,' continues the same writer, 'when men yield to
every impulse from without, with no imperial dignity in the soul which
closes its apartments against the virulence of the world and from unworthy
intruders.'[32] A Swedish archæologist proves, by relics found in graves
in Europe and America, that man in the savage state makes in form, and as
far as possible in material, identical utensils and weapons; so, in
civilized nations the same abuses and traits characterize the periodical
press. Crabbe's description of the newspaper in England, eighty years ago,
finds a curious parallel in that of Sprague in America, fifty years later.
The individual needs an organ in this age wherein and whereby he may
record or find reflected his opinions; the great evil is, that he who
directs this representative medium may be a 'landless resolute,' a
Bohemian adventurer, without convictions or interest. It is to Burke and
the opposition, who protected printers from the House of Commons in 1770,
that the 'Fourth Estate dates its birth;' and Burke was right in his
declaration--'posterity will bless this day.' Under the ancient _régime_
one in a hundred Parisians only could read. After the Revolution, all
became interested in battles; to read the news became indispensable;
hence it has been well said:--'Napoleon a appris à lire aux Parisiennes.
Le professeur leur a coûté cher.' The biographer of Volney records that
philosopher's testimony against the newspaper as a means of popular
culture:--'L'auteur des Ruines, appelé à la chaire d'Histoire, accepté
cette charge pénible, mais qui portrait avec elle lui offrir les moyens
d'être utile: tout en enseignant l'histoire, il voulait chercher à
diminuer l'influence journalière qu'elle exerce sur les actions et les
opinions des hommes; il la regardait à juste titre comme l'une des sources
les plus fécondes de leurs préjugés et de leurs erreurs.' De Tocqueville
indicates, in a different way, his sense of the casual adaptation of the
newspaper, which he describes as 'a speech made from a window to the
chance passers-by in the street.' Among other tests which the rebellion in
the United States has thoroughly applied, is that of the press; and it is
no exaggeration to say that thereby London and Paris journalism has been
completely denuded of the _prestige_ of integrity and humanity, save as
exceptional traits.
The deliberate protest of an eminent public man like Cobden is sufficient
proof of this fact in regard to the great British organ. He writes:--'A
tone of pre-eminent unscrupulousness in the discussion of political
questions, a contempt for the rights and feelings of others, and an
unprincipled disregard of the claims of consistency and sincerity on the
part of its writers, have long been recognized as the distinguishing
characteristics of _The Times_, and placed it in marked contrast with the
rest of the periodical press, including the penny journals of the
metropolis and the provinces. Its writers are, I believe, betrayed into
this tone mainly by their reliance on the shield of impenetrable secrecy.
No gentleman would dream of saying, under the responsibility of his
signature, what your writer said of Mr. Bright yesterday. I will not stop
to remark on the deterioration of character which follows when a man of
education and rare ability thus lowers himself, ay, even in his own eyes,
to a condition of moral cowardice. We all know the man whose fortune is
derived from _The Times_. We know its manager; its only avowed and
responsible editor--he of the semi-official correspondence with Sir
Charles Napier in the Baltic, through whose hands, though he never pen a
line himself, every slander in its leaders must pass--is as well known to
us as the chief official at the Home Office. Now the question is forced on
us whether we, who are behind the scenes, are not bound in the interests
of the uninitiated public, and as the only certain mode of abating such
outrages as this, to lift the veil and dispel the delusion by which _The
Times_ is enabled to pursue this game of secrecy to the public and
servility to the Government--a game (I purposely use the word) which
secures for its connections the corrupt advantages, while denying to the
public its own boasted benefits of the anonymous system.'
The London _Times_ has won, and popularly confirmed for itself during the
American war for the Union, the name of 'Weathercock,' only fixed awhile
by a _trade_ wind, and veering, with shameless alacrity, at every
mercenary and malicious breath; while never before in the history of the
world has the line of demarcation between what is true and comprehensive,
and what is interested and partisan, been made so emphatically apparent to
the common mind as in the vaunts, vagaries, and vacillations of
journalism. On the other hand, one of the most remarkable evidences of the
benefit of popular education, as well as an unique contribution to the
materials of history, may be found in the letters of the soldiers of the
Union army, written from the seat of war to their kindred, and printed in
the local journals; thousands of them have been collected and arranged,
and they naïvely describe every battle as witnessed and fought by as many
individuals. Never before were such materials of history available. In
view of the great result--the elimination of vital truth by public
discussion--the expression as well as the enlightenment and discipline of
public sentiment through the press, we have ample reason to agree with
Jefferson, who declared, 'If I had to choose between a Government without
newspapers, or newspapers without a Government, I should prefer the
latter.'
A son of Leigh Hunt, in a voluminous work entitled _The Fourth Estate_,
has written the annals of the English press;--of which Count Gurowski has
well said that it 'addresses itself to classes, but seldom, very seldom,
to the people itself, as the only national element.' The English press
mentions the name of the people, to be sure, but speaks of it only in
generalities, not in that broad and direct sense as is the case in
America. Whole districts, communities, and townships in England, as well
as on the Continent, exist without having any newspaper--any organ of
publicity. Therein England is under the influence of centralization, as
are the other European States. Almost every township and more populous
village in the free States in the Union has its organs, whose circulation
is independent, and does not interfere with that of those larger papers
published in the capitals of States, or in the larger cities.
A philosophical and authentic history of the newspaper would, however, not
only yield the most genuine insight as to public events and the spirit of
the age, it would also reveal the most exalted and the lowest traits of
humanity. The cowardly hireling who stabs reputations--as the _bravo_ of
the middle ages did hearts--for a bribe; and the heroic defender of truth
and advocate of reform, loyal with his pen to honest conviction amid the
wiles of corruption and the ignominy of abuse--in a word, the holy
champion and the base lampooner are both represented in this field. It is
one of the conditions of its freedom, that equal rights shall be accorded
all; and the wisest men have deemed the possible evils of such latitude
more than compensated by the probable good. Perhaps our own country
affords the best opportunity to judge this question; and here we cannot
but perceive that private judgment continually modifies the influence of
the press. We speak habitually of each newspaper as the organ of its
editor; and the opinion it advances has precisely as much weight with
intelligent readers as the individual is entitled to, and no more. The
days when the cabalistic 'we' inspired awe have passed away; the venom of
a scurrilous print, and the ferocity of a partisan one, only provoke a
smile; newspapers here, instead of guiding, follow public opinion; and
they have created, by free discussion, an independent habit of thought on
the part of their readers, which renders their influence harmless when not
useful. Yet the abuses of journalism were so patent and pernicious thirty
years ago, that Hillhouse thus entered his wise protest against the
growing evil: 'Many of our faults, much of our danger, are chargeable to
_a reckless press_. No institutions or principles are spared its empiric
handling. The most sacred maxims of jurisprudence, the most unblemished
public characters, the vital points of constitutional policy and safety,
are dragged into discussion and exposed to scorn by presumptuous
scribblers, from end to end of the nation.' Printers originally issued
gazettes, and depended upon contributions for a discussion of public
affairs--news whereof they alone furnished: gradually arose the editor;
and two conditions soon became apparent as essential to his
success--prompt utterance of opinion, and constant reannouncement and
advocacy thereof. Cobbett declared the genius of journalism to consist in
_re-iteration_, upon which distinction a witty editor improved by
substituting _re-irritation_.
As a political element, journalism has entirely changed the position of
statesmen, and seems destined to subvert the secret machinery of
diplomacy. These results grow out of the enlightenment and circulation of
thought on national questions induced by their constant public discussion
by the press; their tendency is to break up monopolies of information, to
scatter the knowledge of facts, and openly recognize great human
interests. By condensing the mists of popular feeling into clear and
powerful streams, or shooting them into luminous crystals, the judgment,
the sympathies, and the will of mankind are gradually modified. Hence, all
who represent the people are acted upon as they never could have been when
authority was less exposed to criticism, and the means of a mutual
understanding and comparison of ideas among men less organized and
effective. It has been justly observed that no danger can result from the
most seductive 'leader' on a public question, while the same sheet
contains a full report of all the facts relating to it. The pamphlet and
gazette of Addison's day, and earlier, are now combined in the newspaper.
In great exigencies, however, the immediate promulgation of facts may be a
serious national peril. An experienced American editor, and careful
observer of the phenomena of the Rebellion, thus emphatically testifies to
the possible evil of an enterprising press: 'I believe most strongly now,
that this Rebellion would have been subdued ere this, if, at the outbreak,
the Government had suppressed every daily newspaper which contained a line
or a word upon the war question, except to give the results of
engagements. Our daily journals have kept the Confederates minutely and
seasonably informed. The greater the vigilance and accuracy of these
journals, the greater their value to the enemy.' But a more significant
result than this may be found in the test which the Rebellion has proved,
not only to social and national, but to professional life, and especially
the editorial. How completely has the prestige of newspapers as organs of
opinion faded away before the facts of the hour! What poor prophets,
reasoners, historical scholars, patriots, and _men_, have some of the
conductors of the press proved! With what distrust is it now regarded; and
how does public confidence refuse any nucleus but that of individual
character. The press, therefore, as a popular organ, is unrivalled. It
now illustrates every phase, both of reform and conservatism, every
religious doctrine, scientific interest, and social tendency. Take up at
random any popular newspaper of the day, and what a variety of subjects
and scope of vision it covers, superficially indeed, but to the
philosophic mind none the less significantly; the world is therein
pictured in miniature--the world of to-day.
Probably the most universal charm of a newspaper is the gratification it
affords to what phrenologists call the organ of eventuality. Curiosity is
a trait of human nature which belongs to every order of mind, and actuates
the infant as well as the sage. To its more common manifestations the
newspaper appeals, and indeed originated in this natural craving for
incident. In its most sympathetic degree, this feeling is the source of
the profound interest which tragedy inspires, and its lower range is the
occasion of that pleasure which gossip yields. It is a curious fact that
the same propensity should be at once the cause of the noblest and the
meanest exhibitions of character; yet the poetic impulse and reverent
inquiry of the highest scientific intelligence--intent upon exploring the
wonders of the universe--is but the exalted and ultimate development of
this love of the new and desire to penetrate the unknown. The everlasting
inquiry for news, which meets us in the street, at the hearthstone, and
even beside the bier and in the church, constantly evinces this universal
passion. How often does that commonplace question harshly salute the ear
of the reflective; what a satire it is upon the glory of the past; how it
baffles sentiment, chills enthusiasm, and checks earnestness! The avidity
with which fresh intelligence, although of no personal concern, is seized,
the eagerness with which it is circulated, and the rapidity with which it
is forgotten, are more significant of the transitory conditions of human
life than the data of the calendar or the ruins of Balbek. They prove that
we live altogether in the immediate, that our dearest associations may be
invaded by the most trivial occurrence, that the mental acquisitions of
years do not invalidate a childish love of amusement, and that the mere
impertinences of external life have a stronger hold upon our nature than
the deepest mysteries of consciousness. 'It seems,' wrote Fisher Ames, 'as
if newspaper wares were made to suit a market as much as any other. The
starers, and wonderers, and gapers engross a very large share of the
attention of all the sons of the type. I pray the whole honourable craft
to banish as many murders, and horrid accidents, and monstrous births, and
prodigies from their gazettes, by degrees, as their readers will permit;
and, by degrees, coax them back to contemplate life and manners, to
consider events with some common sense, and to study Nature where she can
be known.' On the other hand, this curiosity about what does not concern
us, is undoubtedly linked with the more generous sympathies, and is, in a
degree, prompted by them; so that philanthropy, good fellowship, and the
amenities of social life and benevolent enterprise, are more or less the
result of the natural interest we feel in the affairs of nations and those
of our neighbour. If the newspaper, therefore, considered merely as a
vehicle of general information in regard to passing events, has a tendency
to diffuse and render fragmentary our mental life; on the other hand, it
keeps the attention fixed upon something besides self, it directs the gaze
beyond a narrow circle, and brings home to the heart a sense of universal
laws, natural affinities, and progressive interests. But curiosity is not
altogether a disinterested passion; and it is amusing to see how
newspapers act upon the idiosyncrasy or the interest of readers. The
broker unfolds the damp sheet at the stock column; the merchant turns at
once to the ship-news; the spinster first reads the marriages; the
politician, legislative debates; and the author, literary criticisms;
while lovers of the marvellous, like Abernethy's patient, enjoy the
murders. To how many human propensities does the newspaper thus casually
minister! Old gentlemen are, indeed, excusable for losing their temper on
a cold morning, when kept waiting for a look into the paper by some
spelling reader; and, to a benign observer, the comfort of some poor
frequenter of a coffee-house oracularly dispensing his gleanings from the
journals, is pleasant to consider,--a cheap and harmless gratification, an
inoffensive and solacing phase of self-importance. We can easily imagine
the anxious expectancy with which the visitors at a gentleman's
country-seat in England, before the epoch of journals, awaited the
news-letter from town,--destined to pass from house to house, through an
isolated neighbourhood, and almost worn out in the process of thumbing.
Three traditions exist to account for the origin of newspapers. The first
attributes their introduction to the custom prevalent at Venice, about the
middle of the fifteenth century, of reading the written intelligence
received from the seat of war, then waging by the Republic against Solyman
the Second, in Dalmatia, at a fixed time and place, for the benefit of all
who chose to hear. French annalists, on the other hand, trace the great
invention to a gossiping medical practitioner of Paris, who used to cheer
his patients with all the news he could gather, and, to save time, had it
written out, at intervals, and distributed among them; while an English
historian, quoted by Disraeli the elder, says, 'they commenced at the
epoch of the Spanish Armada; and that we are indebted to the wisdom of
Elizabeth and the prudence of Burleigh for the first newspaper.'[33] The
same authority conjectures that the word gazette is derived from
_gazzerótta_, a magpie, but it is usually ascribed to _gazet_, a small
coin,--the original price of a copy in Venice. One of the most startling
relics of Pompeii is the poster advertising gladiators. The oldest
newspaper in the world, according to _L'Imprimière_, is published at
Pekin. It is printed on silk, and has appeared every week for a thousand
years. Whatever the actual origin, however, it is natural to suppose that
a gradual transition from oral to written, and thence to printed news, was
the process by which the modern journal advanced towards its present
completeness. It is remarkable that the retrograde movement essential to
despotism in all interests, is obvious in the newspaper;--censorship
driving free minds from written expression, as in the recent instance of
Kossuth when advocating Hungarian progress.