“NOTHING IN THE PAPERS!”

Rangitikei Advocate and Manawatu Argus, Volume XXII, Issue 2032, 20 December 1907, Page 5

“NOTHING IN THE PAPERS!”

*‘ There’s nothing in the papers! ’ 5 In all parts of the civilised world this expression may frequently be heard, uttered by many fretfully or carelessly, but deliberately by -- men of one idea, such as the specialist The many are perhaps incapable of realising the world-wide importance of much of the information contained in the sheet they scan, while Hie, others consider nothing of importance which may lie outside,. their own narrow field of thought; Yet a hundred, or even fifty years ago, men would rightly have ; marvelled had; :the news of the day, from all parts of the world, been placed before, them, morning and evening, in exchange for one of the least valuable of the current coins, and would have exclaimed in their astonishment—-“ How is this done! How is distance thus annihilated, communication made so easy, and information thus widely spread!” Use, however, has accustomed, men to what is truly a marvel—the result of a prodigious amount of inventive skill, expensive enterprise and wonderfully perfect organisation. Without considering the technical knowledge and skill required tor the production of a daily paper from the whole mechanical staff, the costly and. intricate . machinery required, the mental work of the literary and:; managing departments, the opinions expressed on current topics and the influence of these on the public mind, a very little reflection cannot fail'to convince the Jintelligent that in spite of any defects that may exist in it the daily newspaper is one of the greatest marvels of the age. It is not only a recorder of events in its own locality—a supplier of news collected by its reporters, representatives and correspondents, not only a medium through which merchants and tradesmen address the public and others proclaim their wants and requirements. Its studious -reader is kept in touch with all peoples and all climes, with everything of importance that is occurring on the planet, and the finished sheet is a result of thousands working with feverish haste to gather and despatch news to the centres of population throughout the world. Even in this uttermost portion of the British Empire,—this “gateway of the day,”— the editor, like Arachne in her web, has strands leading to his sanctum from the most distant parts of the earth, and these message-bearers thrill with the tragedy or the comedy of the day, the quotation in. the market, the roar of the battlefield and the record of the progress of humanity towards ‘ ‘ that far off divine event, to which the whole creation moves. ” The strands of this all touching web are the aerial wires which stretch over the continents and the cables which are submerged in the abysmal deep—over the mountain chains beneath the waters, even, perhaps, over the site of the lost Atlantis, by ocean caves wherein may wallow ‘‘monsters of the prime,” past fairylike bowers of many-tinted coral and iridescent shells, by hulks of argosies that skimmed the seas in ages that are past, and by the bones of men which are resting till ‘ ‘ the sea gives up its dead.” Over torrid wastes and snow-clad peaks, beneath calm summer skies and tempest-tossed surges, are flashed along these strands the messages which tell of incidents that claim the attention of men, tales of joy and of sorrow, of the success of invention, of the failure of some mighty financial power, of the ; rise of a nation, the awakening of a people, the downfall of ajdynasty, on the disruption of an Empire. The distant Motherland and her affairs axe before the eye of the reader; from Central Africa, from the home of the Mother of Nations, from Egypt the ancient, from far Oath ay, from ‘ ‘ Ormuz and from Ind. 5 ’ come the messages, each hearing its special interest. Nothing of importance occurs anywhere that is not duly recorded in the daily press, thanks to the completeness of the news-gathering organisations and the means supplied by science. Not from one locality alone does the intelligence arrive. Some South American State'has a revolution on hand, a great city reports an awful tragedy and another a terrible disaster, wars and rumours of wars are reported, a religious movement is agitating the people in some other part of the world, a great discovery excites mankind, or the wires tick their messages of the collapse of a market, or the cheerful prospect of better prices and sounder trade. The daily paper is the mirror of the present. It is indeed a marvel that would have been impossible a century ago, an accomplishment greater than any fabled feat of Merlin the Magician, or of theßjinn of Arabian story. ‘ ‘ The keepers of the ears of King Demos” have a right to be proud of their handiwork and their brain labour even though there are some who say ‘‘There’s nothing in „the papers!” “There’s nothing in the papers!' 1 This would he sad, indeed,- if it were true, because it would mean that there had been an enormous waste of human energyand endeavour, and a sorry result of enterprise and ingenuity. But, besides the news dear to the sportsman, of racing contests, of feats in the cricket, football, and other fields of athletic and general sport, may also come news of a Titanic contest between great nations, details of horrible carnage and splendid bravery, which may cause men to shudder and women to weep, news which may move a world to sadness or convulse a continent with laughter. All purely human interest is mirrored and recorded in the press of the day, and the fact that this is now accomplished marks another milestone in the march of humanity towards the highest civilisation possible to tne race of men.