The large advertiser still mainly paid for advertisement according to circulation, but he also began to be influenced by less direct intentions.  He would not advertise in papers which he thought might by their publication of opinion ultimately hurt Capitalism as a whole; still less in those whose opinions might affect his own private fortune adversely.  Stupid (like all people given up to gain), he was muddle-headed about the distinction between a large circulation and a circulation small, but appealing to the rich.  He would refuse advertisements of luxuries to a paper read by half the wealthier class if he had heard in the National Liberal Club, or some such place, that the paper was “in bad taste.”

Not only was there this negative power in the hands of the advertiser, that of refusing the favour or patronage of his advertisements, there was also a positive one, though that only grew up later.

The advertiser came to see that he could actually dictate policy and opinion; and that he had also another most powerful and novel weapon in his hand, which was the suppression of news.

We must not exaggerate this element.  For one thing the power represented by the great Capitalist Press was a power equal with that of the great advertisers.  For another, there was no clear-cut distinction between the Capitalism that owned newspapers and the Capitalism that advertised.  The same man who owned “The Daily Times” was a shareholder in Jones’s Soap or Smith’s Pills.  The man who gambled and lost on “The Howl” was at the same time gambling and winning on a bucket-shop advertised in “The Howl.”  There was no antagonism of class interest one against the other, and what was more they were of the same kind and breed.  The fellow that got rich quick in a newspaper speculation—­or ended in jail over it—­was exactly the same kind of man as he who bought a peerage out of a “combine” in music halls or cut his throat when his bluff in Indian silver was called.  The type is the common modern type.  Parliament is full of it, and it runs newspapers only as one of its activities—­all of which need the suggestion of advertisement.

The newspaper owner and the advertiser, then, were intermixed.  But on the balance the advertising interest being wider spread was the stronger, and what you got was a sort of imposition, often quite conscious and direct, of advertising power over the Press; and this was, as I have said, not only negative (that was long obvious) but, at last, positive.

Sometimes there is an open battle between the advertiser and the proprietor, especially when, as is the case with framers of artificial monopolies, both combatants are of a low, cunning, and unintelligent type.  Minor friction due to the same cause is constantly taking place.  Sometimes the victory falls to the newspaper proprietor, more often to the advertiser—­never to the public.