Originally published in The Man in the Moon (David Bogue) vol.1 #1 (Jan 1847).
Custom requires that there should be a prologue to every new work. These are of various kinds—the high-purposed; the jocular; the deceptive; the incomprehensible, and the straight-forward. Custom formerly required, also, "an epilogue to every five-act play." This is no longer deemed necessary; nor may an opening address be, in a few years' time, which possibly will be all for the better; but, until then, we would rather coalesce with public opinion, than tilt against it; being assured that those who "lead the masses," sometimes get the masses to move at such a rate, that they (the leaders) are run over, trampled upon, disabled, and left behind to be forgotten. And so we offer this Address to our friends, and take the last-mentioned of the above classifications—the straightforward.
"An author," says Fielding, "ought to consider himself not as a gentleman who gives a private or eleemosynary treat, but rather as one who keeps a public ordinary, at which all persons are welcome for their money. In the former case, it is well known that their entertainer provides what fare he pleases; and though this should be very indifferent, and utterly disagreeable to the taste of his company, they must not find any fault; nay, on the contrary, good breeding forces them outwardly to approve and to commend whatever is set before them. Now, the contrary of this happens to the master of an ordinary. Men who pay for what they eat, will insist upon gratifying their palates, however nice and whimsical these may prove; and if everything is not agreeable to their taste, will challenge a right to censure, and to abuse their dinner without control.
"To prevent, therefore, giving offence to their customers by any such disappointment, it hath been usual with the honest and well-meaning host to provide a bill of fare, which all persons may peruse at their first entrance into the house: and having thence acquainted themselves with the entertainment which they may expect, may either stay and regale with what is provided for them, or may depart to some other ordinary accommodated to their taste."
The great novelist, by his own confession, did not disdain to borrow wit or wisdom from any man who was capable of lending either; and we in turn have borrowed from him the notion of this Address. The test of a century has shown us that we cannot take a better example. And, therefore, we open our ordinary with the new year; and lay before our readers a brief entertainment of what it is our intention to furnish them with.
In the first place, one glance through our pages will show our bill of fare. In these days of unparalleled low prices—when steamers go for a penny, omnibuses run for twopence, and newspapers and gallery admissions may be had for threepence; and when costly Broughams and Clarences are hinted at, at sixpence a mile, liveries included—we do not profess to give things wonderfully cheap—for at times another adjective accompanies this qualification—but we will take care that they are all good. You can dine at a cook-shop for one-twentieth part of the sum you would pay at Mivart's or the Clarendon. In quantity, by weight and bulk, you would get the same; but the difference would be in the appointments, the dressing, and, above all, in the seasoning, which should impart the best flavour to the different dishes. We have several careful and established Soyers at our command. Their instructions are to give you the essence rather than the mass of the viands that come under their hands—they will offer you a consommé rather than a watery tasteless soup.
In the discussion of such light matters of the day, as may come as a kind of salad to our repast, we shall, in dressing them up, at all times use more of the oil than the vinegar, where such dressing is consistent. And for our dessert we shall offer various trifles that may suit all palates, and promote chit-chat and pleasant feelings, which we hold to be the great end of a dessert. And throughout the meal we shall, from time to time, hand round small glasses of liqueur, the flavour of which you may dwell upon; or sparkling draughts of champagne, whose effervescence may be needed only for the instant.
And so we welcome you to our table; now, on this New Year's Day, coming in with the holly and mistletoe; and hoping, through our patronage, to turn out an evergreen also. We will not make any dazzling promises. We believe in the disposition of our readers towards us; we believe in our artists; and, what is more, we believe in ourselves. We only ask you to reciprocate our good intentions. Endeavour to do as much for us as we are anxious to do for you; and we are very certain that on neither side will there be cause for complaint.