The Panjandrum
Part I
Hope
We hardly feel certain that we are justified in giving the following little story to the public as an Editor’s Tale, because at the time to which it refers, and during the circumstances with which it deals, no editorial power was, in fact, within our grasp. As the reader will perceive, the ambition and the hopes, and something of a promise of the privileges, were there; but the absolute chair was not mounted for us. The great we was not, in truth, ours to use. And, indeed, the interval between the thing we then so cordially desired, and the thing as it has since come to exist, was one of so many years, that there can be no right on our part to connect the two periods. We shall, therefore, tell our story, as might any ordinary individual, in the first person singular, and speak of such sparks of editorship as did fly up around us as having created but a dim coruscation, and as having been quite insufficient to justify the delicious plural.
It is now just thirty years ago since we determined to establish the Panjandrum Magazine. The “we” here spoken of is not an editorial we, but a small set of human beings who shall be personally introduced to the reader. The name was intended to be delightfully meaningless, but we all thought that it was euphonious, graphic, also—and sententious, even though it conveyed no definite idea. That question of a name had occupied us a good deal, and had almost split us into parties. I—for I will now speak of myself as I—I had wished to call it by the name of a very respectable young publisher who was then commencing business, and by whom we intended that the trade part of our enterprise should be undertaken. Colburn’s was an old affair in those days, and I doubt whether Bentley’s was not already in existence. Blackwood’s and Fraser’s were at the top of the tree, and, as I think, the Metropolitan was the only magazine then in much vogue not called by the name of this or that enterprising publisher. But some of our colleagues would not hear of this, and were ambitious of a title that should describe our future energies and excellences. I think we should have been called the Pandrastic, but that the one lady who joined our party absolutely declined the name. At one moment we had almost carried Panurge. The Man’s Magazine was thought of, not as opposed to womanhood, but as intended to trump the Gentleman’s. But a hint was given to us that we might seem to imply that our periodical was not adapted for the perusal of females. We meant the word “man” in the great generic sense;—but the somewhat obtuse outside world would not have so taken it. The H.B.P. was for a time in the ascendant, and was favoured by the lady, who drew for us a most delightful little circle containing the letters illustrated;—what would now be called a monogram, only that the letters were legible. The fact that nobody would comprehend that H.B.P. intended to express the general opinion of the shareholders that “Honesty is the Best Policy,” was felt to be a recommendation rather than otherwise. I think it was the enterprising young publisher who objected to the initials—not, I am sure, from any aversion to the spirit of the legend. Many other names were tried, and I shall never forget the look which went round our circle when one young and gallant, but too indiscreet reformer, suggested that were it not for offence, whence offence should not come, the Purge was the very name for us;—from all which it will be understood that it was our purpose to put right many things that were wrong. The matter held us in discussion for some months, and then we agreed to call the great future lever of the age—the Panjandrum.
When a new magazine is about to be established in these days, the first question raised will probably be one of capital. A very considerable sum of money, running far into four figures—if not going beyond it—has to be mentioned, and made familiar to the ambitious promoters of the enterprise. It was not so with us. Nor was it the case that our young friend the publisher agreed to find the money, leaving it to us to find the wit. I think we selected our young friend chiefly because, at that time, he had no great business to speak of, and could devote his time to the interests of the Panjandrum. As for ourselves we were all poor; and in the way of capital a set of human beings more absurdly inefficient for any purposes of trade could not have been brought together. We found that for a sum of money which we hoped that we might scrape together among us, we could procure paper and print for a couple of thousand copies of
