ntry possesses the government it deserves, and the journalism
it wants. A people active and busy as the Americans are, want a
journalism that will keep their interest awake and amuse them; and they
naturally get it. The average American, for example, cares not a pin for
what his representatives say or do in Washington; but he likes to be
acquainted with what is going on in Europe, and that is why the American
journalist will give him a far more detailed account of what is going on
in the Palace at Westminster than of what is being said in the Capitol.

In France, journalism is personal. On any great question of the day,
domestic or foreign, the Frenchman will want to read the opinion of John
Lemoinne in the _Journal des Debats_, or the opinion of Edouard Lockroy
in the _Rappel_, or maybe that of Paul de Cassagnac or Henri Rochefort.
Every Frenchman is more or less led by the editor of the newspaper which
he patronizes. But the Frenchman is only a democrat in name and
aspirations, not in fact. France made the mistake of establishing a
republic before she made republicans of her sons. A French journalist
signs his articles, and is a leader of public opinion, so much so that
every successful journalist in France has been, is now, and ever will
be, elected a representative of the people.

In America, as in England, the journalist has no personality outside the
literary classes. Who, among the masses, knows the names of Bennett,
Dana, Whitelaw Reid, Medill, Childs, in the United States? Who, in
England, knows the names of Lawson, Mudford, Robinson, and other editors
of the great dailies? If it had not been for his trial and imprisonment,
Mr. W. T. Stead himself, though a most brilliant journalist, would
never have seen his name on anybody's lips.

A leading article in an American or an English newspaper will attract no
notice at home. It will only be quoted on the European Continent.

It is the monthly and the weekly papers and magazines that now play the
part of the dailies of bygone days. An article in the _Spectator_ or
_Saturday Review_, or especially in one of the great monthly magazines,
will be quoted all over the land, and I believe that this relatively new
journalism, which is read only by the cultured, has now for ever taken
the place of the old one.

In a country where everybody reads, men as well as women; in a country
where nobody takes much interest in politics outside of the State and
the city in which he