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THE
ATLANTIC MONTHLY.
A MAGAZINE OF LITERATURE, ART, AND POLITICS.
VOL. IX.—APRIL, 1862.—NO. LIV.
LETTER TO A YOUNG CONTRIBUTOR.
My dear young gentleman or young lady,—for many are the Cecil Dreemesof literature who superscribe their offered manuscripts with verymasculine names in very feminine handwriting,—it seems wrong not tomeet your accumulated and urgent epistles with one comprehensive reply,thus condensing many private letters into a printed one. And so large aproportion of "Atlantic" readers either might, would, could, or shouldbe "Atlantic" contributors also, that this epistle will be sure ofperusal, though Mrs. Stowe remain uncut and the Autocrat go for an hourwithout readers.
Far from me be the wild expectation that every author will nothabitually measure the merits of a periodical by its appreciation ofhis or her last manuscript. I should as soon ask a young lady not toestimate the management of a ball by her own private luck in respectto partners. But it is worth while at least to point out that in thetreatment of every contribution the real interests of editor and writerare absolutely the same, and any antagonism is merely traditional, likethe supposed hostility between France and England, or between Englandand Slavery. No editor can ever afford the rejection of a good thing,and no author the publication of a bad one. The only difficulty lies indrawing the line. Were all offered manuscripts unequivocally good orbad, there would be no great trouble; it is the vast range of mediocritywhich perplexes: the majority are too bad for blessing and too good forbanning; so that no conceivable reason can be given for either fate,save that upon the destiny of any single one may hang that of a hundredothers just like it. But whatever be the standard fixed, it is equallyfor the interest of all concerned that it be enforced without flinching.
Nor is there the slightest foundation for the supposed editorialprejudice against new or obscure contributors. On the contrary, everyeditor is always hungering and thirsting after novelties. To take thelead in bringing forward a new genius is as fascinating a privilege asthat of the physician who boasted to Sir Henry Halford of having beenthe first man to discover the Asiatic cholera and to communicate it tothe public. It is only stern necessity which compels the magazine tofall back so constantly on the regular old staff of contributors, whoseaverage product has been gauged already; just as every country-lyceumattempts annually to arrange an entirely new list of lecturers, and endswith no bolder experiment than to substitute Chapin and Beecher in placeof last year's Beecher and Chapin.
Of course no editor is infallible, and the best magazine contains anoccasional poor article. Do not blame the unfortunate conductor. Heknows it as well as you do,—after the deed is done. The newspaperskindly pass it over, still preparing their accustomed opiate of sweetpraises, so much for each contributor, so much for the magazinecollectively,—like a hostess with her tea-making, a spoonful for eachperson and one for the pot. But I can tell you that there is an officialperson who meditates and groans, meanwhile, in the night-watches, tothink that in some atrocious moment of good-nature or sleepiness he leftthe door open and let that ungainly intruder in. Do you expect him toacknowledge the blunder, when you tax him with it? Never,—he feels it