to classify matter in them.  In dull seasons they are too large; in times of brisk advertising, and in the sudden access of important news, they are too small.  To enlarge them for the occasion, resort is had to a troublesome fly-sheet, or, if they are doubled, there is more space to be filled than is needed.  It seems to me that the inevitable remedy is a newspaper of small pages or forms, indefinite in number, that can at any hour be increased or diminished according to necessity, to be folded, stitched, and cut by machinery.

We have thus rapidly run over a prolific field, touching only upon some of the relations of the newspaper to our civilization, and omitting many of the more important and grave.  The truth is that the development of the modern journal has been so sudden and marvelous that its conductors find themselves in possession of a machine that they scarcely know how to manage or direct.  The change in the newspaper caused by the telegraph, the cable, and by a public demand for news created by wars, by discoveries, and by a new outburst of the spirit of doubt and inquiry, is enormous.  The public mind is confused about it, and alternately overestimates and underestimates the press, failing to see how integral and representative a part it is of modern life.

“The power of the press,” as something to be feared or admired, is a favorite theme of dinner-table orators and clergymen.  One would think it was some compactly wielded energy, like that of an organized religious order, with a possible danger in it to the public welfare.  Discrimination is not made between the power of the printed word—­which is limitless—­and the influence that a newspaper, as such, exerts.  The power of the press is in its facility for making public opinions and events.  I should say it is a medium of force rather than force itself.  I confess that I am oftener impressed with the powerlessness of the press than otherwise, its slight influence in bringing about any reform, or in inducing the public to do what is for its own good and what it is disinclined to do.  Talk about the power of the press, say, in a legislature, when once the members are suspicious that somebody is trying to influence them, and see how the press will retire, with what grace it can, before an invincible and virtuous lobby.  The fear of the combination of the press for any improper purpose, or long for any proper purpose, is chimerical.  Whomever the newspapers agree with, they do not agree with each other.  The public itself never takes so many conflicting views of any topic or event as the ingenious rival journals are certain to discover.  It is impossible, in their nature, for them to combine.  I should as soon expect agreement among doctors in their empirical profession.  And there is scarcely ever a cause, or an opinion, or a man, that does not get somewhere in the press a hearer and a defender.  We will drop the subject with one remark for the benefit of whom it may concern.  With all its faults, I believe the moral tone of the American newspaper is higher, as a rule, than that of the community in which it is published.