he telegraph, we say, has put us in
sympathy with all the world. And we reckon this enlargement of nerve
contact somehow a gain. Our bared nerves are played upon by a thousand
wires. Nature, no doubt, has a method of hardening or deadening them to
these shocks; but nevertheless, every person who reads is a focus for the
excitements, the ills, the troubles, of all the world. In addition to his
local pleasures and annoyances, he is in a manner compelled to be a
sharer in the universal uneasiness. It might be worth while to inquire
what effect this exciting accumulation of the news of the world upon an
individual or a community has upon happiness and upon character. Is the
New England man any better able to bear or deal with his extraordinary
climate by the daily knowledge of the weather all over the globe? Is a
man happier, or improved in character, by the woful tale of a world's
distress and apprehension that greets him every morning at breakfast?
Knowledge, we know, increases sorrow; but I suppose the offset to that
is, that strength only comes through suffering. But this is a digression.

Not second in importance to any department of the journal is the
reporting; that is, the special reporting as distinguished from the more
general news-gathering. I mean the reports of proceedings in Congress, in
conventions, assemblies, and conferences, public conversations, lectures,
sermons, investigations, law trials, and occurrences of all sorts that
rise into general importance. These reports are the basis of our
knowledge and opinions. If they are false or exaggerated, we are ignorant
of what is taking place, and misled. It is of infinitely more importance
that they should be absolutely trustworthy than that the editorial
comments should be sound and wise. If the reports on affairs can be
depended on, the public can form its own opinion, and act intelligently.
And; if the public has a right to demand anything of a newspaper, it is
that its reports of what occurs shall be faithfully accurate,
unprejudiced, and colorless. They ought not, to be editorials, or the
vehicles of personal opinion and feeling. The interpretation of, the
facts they give should be left to the editor and the public. There should
be a sharp line drawn between the report and the editorial.

I am inclined to think that the reporting department is the weakest in
the American newspaper, and that there is just ground for the admitted
public distrust of it. Too of