"
"You're going too fast," he said, "and you're altogether too cock-sure
of your abilities. You mustn't think that because you've written
articles for the London Times you are competent to write for The World.
It's a very different matter. The American people want something terse,
forcible, picturesque, striking, something that will arrest their
attention, enlist their sympathy, arouse their indignation, stimulate
their imagination, convince their reason, awaken their conscience. Why
should I accept you at your own estimate? You don't realize the
responsibility I have in this matter. The World isn't like your Times,
with its forty or fifty thousand educated readers. It's read by, well,
say a million people a day; and it's my duty to see that they get the
truth; but that's not enough, I've got to put it before them briefly so
that they will read it, clearly so that they will understand it,
forcibly so that they will appreciate it, picturesquely so that they
will remember it, and, above all, accurately so that they may be wisely
guided by its light. And you come to me, and before you've been here a
day you ask me to entrust you with an important mission which concerns
the integrity of my paper, the conscience of my readers, the policy of
my country, no, my God! you're too cock-sure of yourself.
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