Newspapers Should Have No Friends.

Money Is The Great Power Today. Men Sell Their Souls For It. Women Sell Their Bodies For It. Others Worship It. The Money Power Has Grown So Great That The Issue Of All Issues Is Whether The Corporation Shall Rule This Country Or The Country Shall Again Rule The Corporations.

They Call Me The Father Of Illustrated Journalism. What Folly! I Never Thought Any Such Thing. I Had A Small Newspaper, Which Had Been Dead For Years, And I Was Trying In Every Way To Build Up Its Circulation. What Could I Use For Bait? A Picture, Of Course.

There Is Not A Crime, There Is Not A Dodge, There Is Not A Trick, There Is Not A Swindle, There Is Not A Vice Which Does Not Live By Secrecy.

A Journalist Is The Lookout On The Bridge Of The Ship Of State. He Notes The Passing Sail, The Little Things Of Interest That Dot The Horizon In Fine Weather. He Reports The Drifting Castaway Whom The Ship Can Save. He Peers Through Fog And Storm To Give Warning Of Dangers Ahead. He Is Not Thinking Of His Wages Or Of The Profits Of His Owners. He Is There To Watch Over The Safety And The Welfare Of The People Who Trust Him.

There Is Room In This Great And Growing City For A Journal That Is Not Only Cheap But Bright, Not Only Bright But Large, Not Only Large But Truly Democratic-dedicated To The Cause Of The People Rather Than That Of The Purse Potentates-devoted More To The News Of The New Than The Old World-that Will Expose All Fraud And Sham, Fight All Public Evils And Abuses-that Will Sever And Battle For The People With Earnest Sincerity.