IT happened sometime within the last ten or fifteen years, that, in my
way through this troublesome world, I became captivated with the idea
of starting a newspaper. That I had some talent for scribbling, I was
vain enough to believe, and my estimate of the ability I possessed was
sufficiently high to induce me to think that I could give a peculiar
interest to the columns of a weekly paper, were such a publication
entirely under my control.
I talked about the matter to a number of my literary and other friends,
who, much to my satisfaction, saw all in a favourable light, and
promised, if I would go on in the proposed enterprise, to use all their
interest in my favour.
"I," said one, "will guaranty you fifty subscribers among my own circle
of acquaintances."
"And I," said another, "am good for double that number."
"Put me down for a hundred more," said a third, and so the promises of
support came like music to my willing ear.
One or two old veterans of the "press gang," to whom I spoke of my
design, shrugged their shoulders, and said I had better try my hand at
almost any thing else. But I was sanguine that I could succeed, though
hundreds had failed before me. I felt that I possessed a peculiar
fitness for the work, and could give a peculiar charm to a newspaper
that would at once take it to the hearts and homes of the people.
A printer was called upon for an estimate, based upon a circulation of
three thousand copies, which was set down as a very moderate
expectation. He gave the whole cost of paper, composition, (type
setting,) and press-work, at $4000.
This fell a little below my own roughly-made estimate, and settled my
determinations. Two thousand copies, at two dollars a copy, which was
to be the subscription price, would pay all the expenses, and if the
number of subscribers rose to three thousand, of which there was not
the shadow of a doubt in my mind, I would have a clear profit of $2000
the first year. And should it go to four thousand, as was most
probable, my net income would be about $3400, for all increase would
simply be chargeable with cost of paper and press-work--or about sixty
cents on a subscriber. After the first year, of course there would be a
steady increase in the number of subscribers, which, if at the rate of
only a thousand a year, would give me in five years the handsome annual
income of $9000. I was rich in prospective! Nothing could now hold me
back. I ordered the printer to get ready his cases, and the paper-maker
to provide, by a certain time, the paper.
As the terms were to be in advance, or rather the whole year payable at
the expiration of the first quarter, I promised to begin paying cash
for all contracts at the end of the first quarter. Up to this period of
my life, I had gone on the strict principle of owing no man any thing,
and I was known in the community where I lived to be a strictly honest
and honourable man. Never having strained my credit, it was tight and
strong, and I had but to ask the three months' favour to get it without
a sign of reluctance.
Next I issued my prospectus for the "Literary Gazette and Weekly Reflex
of Art, Literature, and Science, a Newspaper devoted to, &c. &c.," and
scattered copies among my friends, expecting each to do his duty for me
like a man. They were also posted in every book-store, hotel, and
public place in the city. Said city, be it known, rejoiced in a
population of a hundred thousand souls, of which number I saw no reason
for doubting my ability to reach, with my interesting paper, at least
three or four thousand, in the end. That was felt to be a very moderate
calculation indeed. Then, when I turned my eyes over our vast country,
with its millions and millions of intelligent, enlightened, reading and
prosperous people, I felt that even to admit a doubt of success was a
weakness for which I ought to be ashamed. And I wondered why, with such
a harvest to reap, twenty such enterprises to one were not started.
While in this sanguine state, an individual who had been for thirty
years a publisher and editor, prompted, as he said, by a sincere
interest in my welfare, called to see me in order to give me the
benefit of his experience. He asked me to state my views of the
enterprise upon which I was about entering, which I did in glowing
terms.
"Very well, Mr. Jones," said he, after I was done, "you base your
calculations on three thousand subscribers?"
"I do," was my answer.
"From which number you expect to receive six thousand dollars."
"Certainly; the price of the paper is to be two dollars."
"I doubt, my young friend, very much, whether you will receive four
thousand dollars from three thousand subscribers, if you should have
that number. Nay, if you get three thousand during the year, you may be
very thankful."
"Preposterous!" said I.
"No; not by any means. I have been over this ground before you, and
know pretty much what kind of harvest it yields."
"But," said I, "it is not my intention to throw the paper into every
man's house, whether he wants it or not. I will only take good
subscribers."
"You would call Mr. B----, over the way, a good subscriber, I presume?"
"Oh yes!" I replied, "I would very much like to have a few thousand
like him."
"And Mr. Y----, his next-door neighbour?"
"Yes--he is good, of course."
"That is, able to pay."
"And willing."
"I happen to know, my young friend, that neither of those men will pay
a subscription to any thing if they can help it."
"Not to a work to which they have regularly subscribed?"
"No."
"That is as much as to say that they are dishonest men."
"You can say that or any thing else you please; I only give you the
information for your own government. You will find a good many like
them. Somehow or other, people seem to have a great aversion to paying
newspaper bills. I don't know how it is, but such is the fact. And if
you will take the advice of one who knows a good deal more about the
business than you do, you will go to wood-sawing in preference to
starting a newspaper. You _may_ succeed, but in ten chances, there are
nine on the side of failure."