Newspapers are strictly forbidden,--unless first steeped in a tincture
of asbestos of a very dull color, expressly manufactured and supplied
by the Governing Machine. When properly saturated with the essence of
dulness and death, and brought down from a glaring white and black to a
decidedly ashy-gray neutral color, a few small newspapers are permitted
to be circulated, but with the greatest caution. They sometimes take
fire, it is said,--these journals,--when brought too near any brain
overcharged with electricity. Two or three times, it is said, the
Governing Machine has been put out of order by the newspapers and their
readers bringing too much electro-magnetism (or something like it) to
bear on parts of the works;--the machine had even taken fire and been
nearly burnt up, and the head engineer got so singed that he never dared
to take the management of the works again.

So it is thought that nothing is so unfavorable to the working of the
wheels as light, heat, electricity, magnetism, and, generally, all the
imponderable and uncatchable essences that float about in the air; and
these, it is thought, are generated and diffused by these villanous
newspapers. Certain kinds of books are also forbidden, as being electric
conductors. Most of the books allowed in the city of Grindwell are so
heavy, that they are thought to be usually non-conductors, and therefore
quite safe in the hands of the people.

It is at the city gates that most vigilance is required with regard to
the prohibited articles. There the poor fellows who keep the gates have
no rest night or day,--so many suspicious-looking boxes, bundles, bales,
and barrels claim admittance. Quantities of articles are arrested and
prevented from entering. Nothing that can in any way interfere with the
great machine can come in. Newspapers and books from other countries
are torn and burnt up. Speaking-trumpets, ear-trumpets, spectacles,