“Yes. But for partisan purposes they must say what they do.”
“Then they are deliberately lying to deceive the people?” asked Miss Biddle.
“It’s rather a puzzling matter in ethics,” said Peter. “I don’t think that the newspaper fraternity have any lower standard of morals, than men in other professions. In the main they stand for everything that is admirable, so long as it’s non-partisan, and some of the men who to-day are now writing me down, have aided me in the past more than I can say, and are at this moment my personal friends.”
“How dishonest!”
“I cannot quite call it that. When the greatest and most honorable statesmen of Europe and America will lie and cheat each other to their utmost extent, under cover of the term ‘diplomacy,’ and get rewarded and praised by their respective countries for their knavery, provided it is successful, I think ‘dishonest’ is a strong word for a merely partisan press. Certain it is, that the partisan press would end to-morrow, but for the narrowness and meanness of readers.”
“Which they cause,” said Ogden.
“Just as much,” said Peter, “as the saloon makes a drunkard, food causes hunger, and books make readers.”
“But, at least, you must acknowledge they’ve got you, when they say you are the saloon-keepers’ friend,” laughed Watts.
“Yes. I am that—but only for votes, you understand.”
“Mr. Stirling, why do you like saloons?” asked Miss Biddle.