good reports because they were dull and ignorant.  In fact, there are two kinds of good reporters,—­those who know too little, and those who know too much, to wander from the point and evolve a report from the depths of their own consciousness.  The worst possible reporter is one who has a little talent, and depends upon that to make up for the meagreness of his information.  The best reporter is he whose sole object is to relate his event exactly as it occurred, and describe his scene just as it appeared; and this kind of excellence is attainable by an honest plodder, and by a man of great and well-controlled talent.  If we were forming a corps of twenty-five reporters, we should desire to have five of them men of great and highly trained ability, and the rest indefatigable, unimaginative, exact short-hand chroniclers, caring for nothing but to get their fact and relate it in the plainest English.

There is one custom, a relic of the past, still in vogue in the offices of daily papers, which is of an absurdity truly exquisite.  It is the practice of paying by the column, or, in other words, paying a premium for verbosity, and imposing a fine upon conciseness.  It will often happen that information which cost three days to procure can be well related in a paragraph, and which, if related in a paragraph, would be of very great value to the newspaper printing it.  But if the reporter should compress his facts into that space, he would receive for his three days’ labor about what he expended in omnibus fare.  Like a wise man, therefore, he spreads them out into three columns, and thus receives a compensation upon which life can be supported.  If matter must be paid for by the column, we would respectfully suggest the following rates:  For half a column, or less, twenty dollars; for one column, ten dollars; for two columns, five dollars; for three columns, nothing; for any amount beyond three columns, no insertion.

To conclude with a brief recapitulation:—­

The commodity in which the publishers of daily newspapers deal is news, i.e. information respecting recent events in which the public take an interest, or in which an interest can be excited.

Newspapers, therefore, rank according to their excellence as newspapers; and no other kind of excellence can make up for any deficiency in the one thing for which they exist.

Consequently, the art of editorship consists in forming, handling, and inspiring a corps of reporters; for inevitably that newspaper becomes the chief and favorite journal which has the best corps of reporters, and uses them best.

Editorial articles have their importance.  They can be a powerful means of advancing the civilization of a country, and of hastening the triumph of good measures and good men; and upon the use an editor makes of his opportunity of addressing the public in this way depends his title to our esteem as a man and fellow-citizen.  But, in a mere business point of view, they are of inferior importance.  The best editorials cannot make, nor the worst editorials mar, the fortune of a paper.  Burke and Macaulay would not add a tenth part as many subscribers to a daily paper as the addition to its corps of two well-trained, ably-commanded reporters.