there was no visible evidence of this in such things as increased advertising. But the effect of his stand may be seen in the plea by William Bradford in his journal,[1] that it was not true, as Zenger had said in his paper, that Bradford published only such news as the government permitted him to print, nor was it true that he submitted his news to the Governor before printing. He declared that he was a free and independent citizen, printing the news wherever he found it, making mistakes occasionally, he admitted, but that was -the fault of his informants. He protested that the object of the Zenger attacks, as far as he was able to understand them, was "to deprive me of my bread; for who will buy my papers if they can be induced to believe that I have a constant respect to (or am constant publisher of) Falsehood and Dislike to Truth," showing the shrewd old printer in an amusing light, for he was then well along in life, with printing establishments in Philadelphia and New York, a paper mill in New Jersey, and no real need to worry about his living or who would buy his papers.[2]
On the other hand, sixteen years later, Zenger having died in 1746 and the paper having passed into the hands of his son, a real need had fallen on a family that a grateful community should have rewarded; at least to the point of preventing such a pitiful plea as that made by John Zenger, the son—"I have worn my clothes threadbare "waiting for delinquent subscribers, some of whom, he laments, are as much as seven years behind.
The trial of Zenger was the forerunner of the great struggle of the Revolution, no less an authority than Gouverneur Morris admitted. It was the greatest battle fought on this side of the water for a free press and
