in the columns of one at least of these women’s journals; but it is easy to imagine that a few besotted females, suffering from erotic and other dementia, should exhibit themselves to the scornful gaze of the virtuous or the only moderately vicious for the purpose of obtaining notoriety—far easier than to believe that the women of America are the readers of and subscribers to these papers and their opinions. We are quite sure that no woman worthy of the name would look a second time at the organ of Victoria C. Woodhull and Tennie C. Claflin—quite as sure as that the two persons we have named are, with their followers, quite unfit to be regarded as women. We have referred to this paper and its “editors” because it and they represent a class of journals and journalists which are, unfortunately for Americans, too apt to be taken as standard representatives of the type, and from no desire to accord them the spurious celebrity they so anxiously covet.
Still, without wishing to impute anything like iniquity to American newspapers generally, it must be admitted that the vast majority of them have rather lax notions of propriety, and their motto being “Get money,” they are apt to ignore the existence of ill in any advertisement, provided the presenter of it has his “pile” ready, and will “come down handsome.” This is evident throughout the whole of the transatlantic news world; and though there are, we feel bound and are glad to admit, very honourable exceptions, they are but the exceptions which prove the rule. As the editors and proprietors generally accuse each other, they cannot feel annoyed if we, standing afar off, make our notes according to what they give us. If they prefer to feel angry, however, we shall not stand in their