per
lives on commotion, crime, lawlessness in general. If people no longer
enjoyed reading about violence and bloodshed half their occupation, and
that the most profitable half would be gone. It is the interest of the
newspaper to keep alive the savage in human nature; and war affords the
readiest means of doing this. You can't do much to increase the number
of gruesome murders and loathsome assaults, beyond giving all possible
advertisement to them when they do occur. But you can preach war, and
cover yourself with glory, as a patriot, at the same time."

"I wonder how many of my ideals will be left to me," sighed Joan. "I
always used to regard the Press as the modern pulpit."

"The old pulpit became an evil, the moment it obtained unlimited power,"
answered Mrs. Denton. "It originated persecution and inflamed men's
passions against one another. It, too, preached war for its own ends,
taught superstition, and punished thought as a crime. The Press of to-
day is stepping into the shoes of the medieval priest. It aims at
establishing the worst kind of tyranny: the tyranny over men's minds.
They pretend to fight among themselves, but it's rapidly becoming a close
corporation. The Institute of Journalists will soon be followed by the
Union of Newspaper Proprietors and the few independent journals will be
squeezed out. Already we have German shareholders on English papers; and
English capital is interested in the St. Petersburg Press. It will one
day have its International Pope and its school of cosmopolitan
cardinals."

Joan laughed. "I can see Carleton rather fancying himself in a tiara,"
she said. "I must tell Phillips what you say. He's out for a fight with
him. Government by Parliament or Government by Press is going to be his
war cry."

"Good man," said Mrs. Denton. "I'm quite serious. You tell him from me
that the next revolution has got to be against the Press. And it will be
the stiffest fight Democracy has ever had."

The old lady had tired herself. Joan undertook the mission. She thought
she would rather enjoy it, and Mrs. Denton promised to let her have full
instructions. She would write to her friends in Paris and prepare them
for Joan's coming.

Joan remembered Folk, the artist she had met at Flossie's party, who had
promised to walk with her on the terrace at St. Germain, and tell her
more about her mother. She looked up his address on her return home, and
wrote to him, giving hi