Delivered in Representative Hall, May 25th, 1888, welcoming the “Northwestern Editorial Association.”

Ladies and Gentlemen: In arranging your excursion, did any of you remember that this year is, or ought to be, an anniversary of notable interest to newspaper men? It is true that there is now some question about it, but it was for many years accepted as a fact, and is still asserted by many authorities, that the first English newspaper ever printed made its appearance in 1588, just three hundred years ago. It was called The English Mercurie, was published under the authority of Queen Elizabeth, and its purpose, as stated, was “the prevention of false reports.”

This tri-centennial anniversary year ought, therefore, to be a year of jubilee for editors and publishers. You, ladies and gentlemen, are first among the fraternity in Kansas to celebrate it. I am glad to see you, and proud that to me has been assigned the very pleasant duty of formally welcoming you to the capital. I shall not, however, tax your time and patience with a lengthy address. I know the craft too well to attempt anything of that kind. It is said that the American people will stand more speech-making, and, seemingly, enjoy it, than any other people on earth. But my experience is that editors, in this regard, are exceptional—especially when they are enjoying a holiday. You don’t need to be told how vast is the domain and how electric and irresistible is the influence of the newspaper press. You do not care to listen to a lecture on the duties and responsibilities of your profession. You would “jeer me with jeers”—or ought to—if I discussed, on this occasion, such hackneyed themes as “the independence of the press,” or the beauty of “impersonal journalism,” or the turpitude of “delinquent subscribers,” or the criminal stupidity of the man who don’t advertise, or that curious and interesting but never solved arithmetical puzzle, “what paper has the largest circulation?” All these things may interest the editor at home. But the editor abroad wants to forget them. At home, you are engaged in a serious and laborious vocation; but abroad, here and now, you want your holiday to be a real holiday—not such an one as the miserly old farmer gave his boys when he said to them: “My sons, this is the Fourth of July, and when we finish grubbing that acre of hazel-brush on the hillside, and get the hay from the bottom meadow into the barn, we’ll have some apples and cider.”

Every Kansan, Mr. President, is proud of Kansas, and has a right to be. But above all other Kansans, the men of the newspaper craft have a just right to be proud and happy. This great commonwealth of ours has not been builded without effort. Dangers and difficulties, trials and vicissitudes, have marked every step and stage of its growth and development. But no Kansas editor ever saw a season so gloomy or disastrous that he wanted to run. No Kansas editor, within my knowledge, ever saw the time when he was willing to write Ichabod on the face of his paper, and turn his face to the east. Day after day, week after week, the editors of Kansas have sung the praises of Kansas, and glorified her name, and neither border wars, nor Indian raids, nor drouths, nor grasshopper invasions, have ever for a moment discouraged, dismayed or disheartened them.

I welcome you, then, as representatives of a craft whose courage, enthusiasm, earnestness and ability have been conspicuously illustrated in the struggle which made Kansas one of the greatest and proudest of American States. I welcome you as representatives of that profession which is the representative of every industry, the voice of every art, the controlling power of every civilized government. I welcome you, as fellow-citizens, to the Capital of the State, and I sincerely trust that your journey, and every incident or event connected with it, may be thoroughly enjoyable and enjoyed. I know that the Press Club of Topeka, the municipal committees, and all the people of the Capital, will do everything in their power to make your visit pleasant. In their name, I bid you welcome, and with their full and cordial assent, I say: “If anything you want is not in sight, ask for it.”