Originally published in Ainsworth's Magazine: A Miscellany of Romance (Chapman and Hall) vol.1 #1 (Feb 1842).
Prologues have gone out of fashion with perukes, and epilogues have followed them out with pigtails; but an address to the town at the opening of a Magazine is still as regularly looked for as a speech from the throne at the opening of a session.
There is, however, this difference; that as, in the one case, expectation is never disappointed because it is never raised, since nothing is ever communicated; so in the other, expectation is often excited beyond a reasonable pitch, since too much is generally communicated, and promises are made without a chance of their fulfilment.
To adopt the rule that prescribes an address, is not to adopt the rule of faithlessness in the engagements it may contain. But in introducing Ainsworth's Magazine to the public, he whose name it bears pledges himself only upon one point—that at the end of the many volumes yet unformed, to which he confidently anticipates his new venture will extend, nobody shall be able to convict him of breaking a single promise; for he does not intend to make one.
In the construction of a prospectus, promises are looked upon rather as literary conveniences than moral obligations; and a pledge to present greater excellence at a lower cost, frequently implies nothing more than the rounding of a sentence, or the needful supply of matter. "The address looks rather short," said the writer of such a performance, on starting a new periodical. "Add some more promises," observed the conscientious proprietor of the work. In such a dilemma, a simple pledge to be profusely witty, to work a revolution in taste, to increase the harmless stock of public pleasures, and to eclipse the gaiety of nations when the hour of discontinuance shall arrive, fills up the chasm, and gives its due dimensions to the address.
It is as easy to violate such engagements as it is difficult to write a prospectus without making them. But it is equally easy, having determined upon a plan, to describe it in plain words and to give it a fair trial. The originator of this new "Magazine of Romance, General Literature, and Art," is animated by a grateful sense of the favour with which his own productions have been honoured, when he proposes to unite, in companionship with himself, various accomplished writers, qualified to administer to public amusement, and to advance the best purposes of literature.
So far from deeming that a new combination of talents, in a new periodical, in a new form, at a new price, is not wanted, he believes that such a junction under such circumstances was never so desirable as now; and he is of opinion that a plan, which invests the real property and the real responsibility of a Magazine in literary hands, may give greater freedom to writers both in the selection and the treatment of their subjects, and therefore be more favourable to a prosperous exercise of their talents, than is frequently the case under established arrangements. Whatever in this respect benefits the writer, must be for the advantage of the reader; and is as clear a gain as any palpable diminution of price. The command of great and various talent is one essential element of success; but it is essential also that the talent should be directed to the attainment of its happiest results, and be employed in its easiest and most natural way.
The advantages thus enjoyed will lead, it may be presumed, to a higher tone of literary speculation, as well as to a more steadfast moral endeavour, on the part of the poet, the essayist, and the critic. Loftier aims and truer purposes may be here secured, without in the slightest degree cramping those attractive pages that must be reserved for Romance, or excluding even one of those lighter accessories of the Magazine which divert the gay-hearted reader—{setting him thinking, perhaps, while he laughs,)—in the guise of humorous incident and playful satire—in the jest that is born with a smile rather than a sneer—in piquant sketches of society, notabilia of travel, and portraitures of eccentricity, many-sided and mysterious. For all such whimsies and wonders there will be ample room and verge enough, even though Philosophy should rear her head in their immediate neighbourhood, looking with face severe, yet neither scornful nor ashamed, upon her frolicsome companions.
The plan, then, of Ainsworth's Magazine will comprise, as occasion serves, papers of bold and original inquiry into the great ends for which books were written—into books themselves, in their multitudinous forms and into the mind, which they feed and fashion. It may treat of states and statesmen, though it will avoid politics and scandal. It will pass, perhaps, from a view of the general structure of society, to a ludicrous dissection of one of the atoms that compose it. It will investigate past events where it can, and shew, too, how history has reported them. These are some among the more arduous of its tasks—the constant aim will be to execute them in a popular, and never in a rigid or pedantic spirit.
Of its productions in the various fields of romance, the most conspicuous, in the earlier numbers, will be a new Tale by the Editor. This in its progress will exhibit many of those pictures of manners and of social habit in the by-gone time, by which the Magazine may become the happy instrument of introducing every young reader to his own great-grandfather. Tragic passion and comic incident will in this, as in briefer subjects, be employed, to shew how, amidst the caprice and mutability of fashion, Nature is unalterable, and Truth divinely beautiful for ever.
Of the lighter poetry, and of humorous sketches, the plan of the Magazine, as already hinted, includes an ample variety, or what the arbiters of taste would call "an elegant assortment." It includes, also, the intention of reporting frequently upon the progress of the Drama—of noticing new features of Art, when the exhibitions are open for the season—and of recording from time to time such leading points of scientific invention and discovery as may interest the general reader.
However disproportioned the price, the size and number of these pages admit of all this being attempted. It may be said, by way of suggesting the expediency of brevity in this address, that the design thus announced comprehends every subject. Not so; there are subjects which the plan will consistently exclude. It will invariably be remembered, that this new periodical must, if it fulfil its object, become the visitant of Families, the entertainer of the Gentle; that it is addressed not to Mothers only, but to Daughters. This recollection will ensure the observance of a fixed principle in the conduct of it, and forbid the introduction of many subjects, which, however fitted for illustration in a separate form, can have no place on this "more removed ground."
The general outline of the design with which this Magazine is commenced has been broadly marked out. Intentions are intimated, but no promise expressed. If a pledge were to be hazarded at all, it might assuredly be given on behalf of George Cruikshank.
In securing the co-operation of this admirable artist, the strongest assurance is given, not only of unequalled excellence in tragic and humorous illustration, but of an anxious and thoughtful principle of responsibility in the exercise of that power. No work can need a surer guarantee than that which is conveyed in the association of an artist, who has passed an important portion of his life in satirizing and ridiculing human follies, without giving one moment's pain to a fellow-creature; who has faithfully delineated almost every diversity of character, without creating a single enemy. George Cruikshank will be the illustrator of Ainsworth's Magazine.
This address opened in a certain formal style, balancing its sentences, as introductory addresses will, in spite of the writer. The formality happily vanished as the statement proceeded. And now, having deprecated the formal style, it is time to do that which people generally do with a bad habit—return to it. The address, therefore, terminates with a phrase that usually serves for the commencement of a prospectus:—"It is an excellent saying of the younger Pliny"—that Ainsworth's Magazine not only surpassed all its predecessors, but eclipsed all its contemporaries! The younger Pliny, if he said so, was, we hope, a prophet.