‘The Times.
‘Why change the head?
‘This question will naturally come from the Public—and we, the Times, being the Public’s most humble and obedient Servants, think ourselves bound to answer:—
‘All things have heads—and all heads are liable to change.
‘Every sentence and opinion advanced by Mr. Shandy on the influence and utility of a well-chosen surname may be properly applied in showing the recommendations and advantages which result from placing a striking title-page before a book, or an inviting Head on the front page of a Newspaper.
‘A Head so placed, like those heads which once ornamented Temple Bar, or those of the great Attorney, or great Contractor, which, not long since, were conspicuously elevated for their great actions, and were exhibited, in wooden frames, at the East and West Ends of this Metropolis, never fails of attracting the eyes of passengers—though, indeed, we do not expect to experience the lenity shown to these great exhibitors, for probably the Times will be pelted without mercy.
‘But then, a head with a good face is a harbinger, a gentleman-usher, that often strongly recommends even Dulness, Folly, Immorality, or Vice. The immortal Locke gives evidence to the truth of this observation. That great philosopher has declared that, though repeatedly taken in, he never could withstand the solicitations of a well-drawn title-page—authority sufficient to justify us in assuming a new head and a new set of features, but not with a design to impose; for we flatter ourselves the Head of the Times will not be found deficient in intellect, but, by putting a new face on affairs, will be admired for the light of its countenance, whenever it appears.
‘To advert to our first position.
‘The Universal Register has been a name as injurious to the Logographic Newspaper, as Tristram was to Mr. Shandy’s Son. But Old Shandy forgot he might have rectified by confirmation the mistakes of the parson at baptism—with the touch of a Bishop have changed Tristram to Trismegistus.
‘The Universal Register, from the day of its first appearance to the day of its confirmation, has, like Tristram, suffered from unusual casualties, both laughable and serious, arising from its name, which, on its introduction, was immediately curtailed of its fair proportion by all who called for it—the word Universal being Universally omitted, and the word Register being only retained.
‘“Boy, bring me the Register.”
‘The waiter answers: “Sir, we have not a library, but you may see it at the New Exchange Coffee House.”
‘“Then I’ll see it there,” answers the disappointed politician; and he goes to the New Exchange, and calls for the Register; upon which the waiter tells him he cannot have it, as he is not a subscriber, and presents him with the Court and City Register, the Old Annual Register, or, if the Coffee-house be within the Purlieus of Covent Garden, or the hundreds of Drury, slips into the politician’s hand Harris’s Register of Ladies.
‘For these and other reasons the parents of the Universal Register have added to its original name that of the