COSMOPOLIS V. PEDLINGTION.

Marlborough Express, Volume VIII, Issue 484, 22 March 1873, Page 7

COSMOPOLIS V. PEDLINGTION.

Sir, — Notwithstanding the eloquent outburst of the News to which I referred m my last letter, touching the high standard of moral excellence and political honesty, by which thePress of New Zealand is distinguished, there are persons who do not entirely endorse that writer's opinion. They may possibly be people of limited ability as to judgment, and "unlimited lability" as to error, that is of course m the . opinion of the writer m question ; but the fact remains, and as long as a single sceptic shall be found to dispute this, or anything else, '^who shall say there is a truth without a doubt ?

•• Doubt that tho Earth revolves, Doubt that tbe San is fire, Doubt that the Moon's green cheese, But doubt not the News a. ." — An oracle m all things pertaining to high morality. But, Sir, I have heard it calmly asserted that the Press of New Zealand is a very loose and depraved institution. Bishop Moran is reported by the West Coast papers to have said something very like this — only not so tersely — and you have shown that Editors' articles — " Are not always given ctwav, But bought and sold on a Maiket day."

— And yet, Sir, this is not all the sin of which the press of this colony is guilty. It is accused — and alas, how justly !— of being especially Pedlingtonian m its spirit and intelligence, and its vision is said to be bounded by the horizon of Provincialism, or what is a better word, Location, and I might add by the four walls of their own offices. If these accusations are true, where shall we seek for the giant intellect that shall cleanse this Augsean stable ? Shall we flee to Canterbury or Otago ? Behold this provincial feeling is there ! Shall we go to the North ? It is there ! Though we should flee to the uttermost parts of the earth, shall we not find selfishness everywhere ? For my own part I claim to be a Citizen of the World, but while I' reside within a mile or two of Blenheim, I consider myself p-jrfectly justified m devoting my attention to the affairs, and taking an interest m the progress and welfare of the province m which for the time being my lot is cast. It would be acting over again the fable of the Bull and the Frog, w«re I to take up the great questions of social and political science on which the literati of Europe so learnedly argue. However largely the future interests of this colony may be bound up with European progress ; or however intimately we may be concerned m the events now passing on the political stages of the old world, we are about as competent to discuss them as we are powerful to prevent. Besides all this, I would ask, How can we expect to have a free and outspoken press when persecution is the result of difference of opinion. It is not long since I saw m an Auckland journal — the Evening Star I think — a parallel case to those which you exposed on Saturday last. The Editor very justly remarked that those who advertised m the Star got the worth of their money and there was no obligation m the matter ; he did not accept advertisements as a sop for dishonest Journalism. Thank Heaven, there is some virtue m the colonial press, even though he and you were the only examples. The Pedlingtonian propensities are not, however, all with the Press. There are plenty of would-be leaders and sham

! patriots whose minds are chained to their own counters ; whose loftiest aspirations are breathed m the little sanctum where they bow before the oracles of £ s. d. ; who m all things have an eye to business, or personal satisfaction ; so ultraPedlingtonian m their principles and practice that they care not so that they can rise, even though it should be on the ruins of that same Little Pedlington, that gave them " a local habitation and a name." What a splendid opportunity presents itself to the lofty intellects, the sublime geniuses, that wander amid the aisles and porches of that temple of learning, the office of the News. How easily might they now distinguish themselves as the brilliant exemplars of a standard Colonial Press, instead of devoting nearly two columns of their valuable space — as they have done this morning — to wrangling over a subject worn thrice threadbare, interlarded with personalities and spite enough to sicken a dog, and even that quiet and inoffensive old gentleman, your reporter, comes m for his share. God help them. I don't know what would become of them, or where they would find a theme, if they had not you to abuse. — I am, &c, Diogenes. The Tub, March 20th.