Copyright denotes the property which an author has in his literary works, or which a bookseller, or any other person, may acquire by purchase; a property consisting, in either case, in the exclusive right to print, publish, and sell a particular work. The subject involves two important inquiries; one the obligation imposed by law to sacrifice a given number of copies to our public libraries; the other, a much more extensive, and, in a public sense, more interesting question, the expediency of prolonging the duration of copyright, or the exclusive property of a book.
1. Printing became extensive in England about a century after its discovery; and it was in the year 1556 that a charter was granted to the Stationers' Company, an incorporation consisting, not of vendors of stationery in the present sense of the word, but of booksellers and printers, who, for their general benefit, determined to keep at their hall a register, in which should be entered the title of every new book, the name of the proprietors, and the successive transferts of the copyright. By-laws were enacted by the company; fines were levied on members acting in contravention of their regulations; and, in course of time, these resolutions of the association were confirmed by a well-known measure of government, we mean the licensing act of 1662, an act prohibiting the publication of any book unless first licensed by the lord chamberlain, and entered in the stationers' register. In 1684 a new charter was issued to the company, partly for the purpose of securing the property of books, but more with the view of interposing the royal interdict on any publication at variance with the arbitrary government of Charles II. In the more auspicious reign of William (1691) this act was repealed; but whilst the liberty of the press was restored, the door was unluckily thrown open to infractions on literary property by clandestine editions of books. It was in vain for the owner of a copyright to bring an action against the trespasser; he had no other protection than common law; he could recover only to the extent of the "damage proved," that is, he could not adduce evidence of the tenth or perhaps twentieth part of the damage suffered, as he could not prove the sale of one copy out of twenty. This led to applications to parliament in 1703 and 1706; but no act was passed until 1709, when, after much discussion, the sanction of the legislature was given to a bill, of which the prominent features were two: first, an obligation to deliver nine copies to as many public libraries; and next, a provision for guarding, by severe penalties, the property of copyright during fourteen years. The public libraries entitled to the receipt of a copy each were:
The King's Library, now transferred to the British Museum. The Bodleian at Oxford, and the University Library at Cambridge. In London, Sion College, or the Library of the London Clergy. In Scotland, the libraries of the universities of Edinburgh, Glasgow, St Andrews, and Aberdeen, with that of the Faculty of Advocates.
To these were added, by a subsequent act, in 1791, two Irish libraries, viz. Trinity College, Dublin, and the Society of the King's Inns in that city, making in all eleven copies to be delivered.
The delivery of so many copies of every new book was a heavy sacrifice, and booksellers were indefatigable in their efforts to evade it, giving at one time only a single volume, and at others venturing to omit the ungracious duty altogether. Hence a necessity for new acts of parliament, more particularly those of 1775 and 1791. Still these acts were not sufficiently positive; and it having been decided in 1798 (in the case of Beckford v. Hood), that publishers were not prevented by such irregularities from obtaining damages for pirated editions, they became more and more remiss in their deliveries. At last, in 1811, the university of Cambridge having determined to bring the question to an issue, brought an action for the non-delivery of Fox's History, and obtained a verdict. The booksellers, finding that this act was now no longer a dead letter, applied to parliament; but a committee of the House of Commons, appointed in March 1813, made a report in favour of their opponents; and in the succeeding spring an act was passed, confirming in the most explicit terms the claims of the public libraries, who were not even required to pay any proportion of the price of such books as they thought proper to require. In this the law of England differs from that of other countries; in several states of the continent of Europe, and in the United States of America, only one copy of a book is required from an author; in France and Austria not more than two.
2. For many years, we might more properly say for a term of couple of centuries, the property of a book seems to have copyright; been considered as permanent as the property of an estate; its successive shares of literary works being bought and sold without any idea of their expiring. It is not till 1709 that we discover a trace of interference with its permanency, the act of that year defining it against intruders during fourteen years, and no longer. The limitation, however, had no practical effect; copyright was considered as permanent both by the booksellers and the public; nay by three out of the four judges of the Court of King's Bench, in the celebrated trial Millar v. Taylor, which took place in 1769, and led to a very memorable display of judicial erudition. The plaintiff charged the defendants with a trespass in publishing an edition of Thomson's Seasons, of which the plaintiff was the sole proprietor. Lord Mansfield, with Judges Willes and Aston, gave an opinion in favour of the permanency of the copyright, in which they were confirmed by Judge Blackstone; but one of their brethren, Judge Yates, took a very different course, and adhered resolutely to the literal construction of the act.
An action for a similar trespass was some time afterwards brought before the Court of Session in Scotland; the London proprietor of a copyright claiming damages for an infraction by a provincial bookseller (case of Hinton v. Donaldson). Here the majority of the bench were adverse to the opinion formerly delivered by Lord Mansfield, and discharged the defendant without a dissentient voice, except that of the well-known Lord Monboddo. At last, in the session of 1773-4, the question came decisively before parliament, the booksellers having brought in a bill for declaring copyright perpetual. This bill passed the Commons, but was thrown out, after much debate, in the Lords.
To avoid perplexity, we shall endeavour to comprise Objections the pros and cons in these various discussions in a kind of an irregular succession, adopting the plan of appending a re-swers, joinder to each argument, as the best method of doing justice to both sides.
Objection. Ideas cannot be the object of property; they are not visible, tangible, or corporeal. (Judge Yates.)
Answer. Whatever admits of exclusive enjoyment may be property. (Hargrave.) O. Another person may arrive, by his own process of thought, at similar conclusions; would you deny to him what you granted to his predecessor?
A. There is very little apprehension of such a coincidence; the plans and the results of study admit of an infinite variety as the human countenance; the same views or the same conclusions will never come from two persons, or even from the same person at different times, in the same language. At all events, an arbitrator or a court of justice can be at no loss to decide whether a second publication on the same subject comes within the description of plagiarism.
O. A literary composition is undoubtedly the property of the writer so long as it remains in manuscript; but by the act of publishing he gives it to the world; he lets the bird fly; his property is gone. (Judge Yates.)
A. He gives the public the free use of the knowledge contained in his book; but this is a very different thing from the profit as publisher. The ten shillings paid for a volume entitles the reader to the use of its contents, but can certainly give him no claim to the hundred pounds which may be expected from a new edition. (Lords Mansfield, Judges Willes, Blackstone, and Aston.)
O. It is not clear that common law ever sanctioned the exclusive enjoyment of copyright. The only titles appear to have been the royal patent and the license of the Stationers' Company. (Lord Camden.)
A. It seems to have been always taken for granted by Chancery and other courts, that an exclusive right existed. There is a confirmatory example in the highest quarter; the king is perpetual proprietor of the right of publishing acts of parliament and all public documents. (Lord Mansfield, Judges Willes, Blackstone, and Aston.)
O. The patentees of mechanical inventions possess but a limited term; none of them ever advanced a claim to perpetuity. (Judge Yates.)
A. Such patentees are much sooner reimbursed than authors; the fruit of their invention is of direct practical application. Besides, the stranger who makes a duplicate of a machine incurs a much greater relative expense than the stranger who reprints an edition of a book: in the one the materials form the chief part of the cost; in the other, they are comparatively insignificant, and copies may be multiplied by thousands.
O. The statute of the 8th of Queen Anne expressly limits the duration of copyright; it enacts that the protecting penalties shall be in force during fourteen years, and no longer. (Judge Yates.)
A. This is, no doubt, the apparent meaning of the statute, but the preamble of the act declares that it is passed for the protection of literature. To make the act an instrument for curtailing a literary privilege would certainly be at variance with its general language. (Lord Mansfield.)
O. If such property be admitted for a time, is not the term of fourteen years sufficient? What good could the public expect from the writings of men so selfish as to call for a perpetual monopoly?
A. Monopoly is not the proper word; the object may be attained, as will be shown presently, under modifications which insure to the public a complete supply of books at reasonable prices.
O. "Glory," said Lord Camden, "is the reward of science, and those who deserve it scorn all meaner views."
A. Reputation is, and always will be, the grand stimulus to literary exertion, but it requires long-continued exertion; and if we do not enable a writer to live by his works, we confine the possibility of acquiring reputation to a very small class—to the rich, or to those who derive an income from other means. Such, in fact, has hitherto been the case: standard works have been attempted only by men who, like Gibbon, possessed patrimony, or who, like Robertson and Hume, arrived at the possession of income from other sources. No one imagines that our military or naval officers follow their profession for the sake of pay; yet no one would propose to abridge it on the ground of reputation being their primary object.
O. "It was not for gain," said Lord Camden, "that Bacon, Newton, Milton, and Locke, instructed the world."
A. Each of these distinguished men was obliged to trespass on the time devoted to literature, and to seek an income from public employments. How much better would it have been could they have given an undivided and uninterrupted attention to their favourite pursuits?
In comparing these various arguments, the balance is evidently on the side of the advocates of exclusive right in every point except one—the interpretation of the statute of Queen Anne. There the words "fourteen years and no longer" are too pointed to admit of the construction put upon them by Lord Mansfield. In the beginning of 1774, when the question came before the House of Lords, the judges attended and delivered their opinions at length, Lord Mansfield advocating the cause of permanency, while Judge Yates, now supported by his brethren Baron Eyre and Baron Perrot, asserted once more the necessity of limitation. Thurlow, at that time attorney-general, addressed the House, as a councillor, against the perpetuity, and found an ardent auxiliary in Lord Camden; but the opposite side was ably supported by Dunning, by Solicitor-General Wedderburne, and by Lord Lyttleton. One party contended that fame was the only true reward of literary exertion; whilst the others maintained, that without an adequate pecuniary provision, the public would be deprived of many useful works. The house, however, appear to have been alarmed at the idea of perpetuity, and finally decided that the exclusive right should last only "fourteen years, with a contingent fourteen, if the author happened to be alive at the end of the first period."
The grand error on the part of the booksellers lay in demanding perpetuity instead of prolongation. The idea of perpetuity has in it something very serious, and will not be sanctioned by a legislature without the clearest proof of public advantage; it would be premature to ask it even in the present age. They ought to have drawn the attention of parliament to the number of years required to compose a standard work, and to the further length of time necessary to give it effectual currency; appealing to the good sense of the legislature whether fourteen or even twenty-eight years were not wholly inadequate to remunerate these multiplied labours.
Foiled in the House of Peers, the booksellers determined to do what men always will endeavour to do when unjustly controlled, namely, to evade that which they cannot resist. They resorted to the alternative of giving an ostensible renewal to a work, by adding, at the end of the term of each copyright, notes and other appendages, which remained their property during another period of fourteen years, and afforded them a kind of guarantee in two ways: first, because a competitor, whatever he might do with the original text, could not touch the addenda; and, next, because the great body of publishers residing in London acted as a corporation, and combined to give circulation to works thus edited, to the complete exclusion of rival impressions.
The law continued on this footing for forty years, the term of copyright receiving no extension till 1814. On that occasion it was soon apparent that the universities would carry the point of the delivery copies, and the only alternative was, to seek an indemnity in an extension of copyright to twenty-eight years; that is, by rendering the last fourteen certain instead of contingent. This was obtained, and here ends the historical part of our sketch.
We are now to enter on the grand question, of the advantages of a further prolongation of the term of copyright; a question that has never yet been brought fully before the public.
We shall begin by examining a very material point,—we mean the dispositions and habits of those with whom authors have principally to deal. And here, from long familiarity with men of business, we entreat the particular attention of our literary brethren; for, however anxious to be instrumental in procuring them relief, we must not hesitate to point out their errors or misconceptions. Of the surprising quantity of publications issuing annually from the press, not a tenth part are the production of writers of established character; the rest proceed from candidates whose reputation is yet to make. In what manner are booksellers to form an estimate of the mass of unknown manuscripts thus laid before them? Their own habits are not those of study, but of business; and they must consign the task of examination to friends, who have been called not inaptly "literary tasters." Need we wonder that the patience of the critic should be put to a severe test by the general mediocrity of these performances, and that his report should, in general, be so little decisive, that booksellers fall into the habit of putting one work on a par with another, and of subjecting them, in the mode of publishing, to the application of a common rule? It has become the practice of some houses to decline any other terms with an author unknown to the public, than those of defraying the paper and print, in return for the manuscript, and the understanding that the profit of the edition, if there be any, shall be shared equally between the bookseller and the author.
Now this plan of publishing, however natural in the present state of the law, is replete with mischief to all parties, bringing forth a mass of books which ought never to see the light, and which, in truth, would never have been published could the publisher have foreseen their failure. It is a remarkable fact, disclosed by a parliamentary discussion, that only "one publication in eight is found to come to a second edition." (See Evidence before the Copyright Committee in 1814.) The unfortunate limitation of copyright discourages literary men from the continued labour necessary to produce standard works; and the bookseller, tempted to assail the public by the attraction of novelty, goes on publishing books by the dozen, in the hope that some lucky chance may make up for past disappointments.
All this shows that, in the great majority of cases, the contract between an author and a bookseller is made without previous data, and is nothing more or less than what is commonly called a blind bargain. Dr Paley, on finishing the manuscript of his Moral and Political Philosophy, tendered the copyright of it to a bookseller for L300, and was offered in return L250, exactly in the way that a cautious purchaser bids for unknown merchandise. During this negotiation, a brother of the trade, apprised of the value of Paley's work, came boldly forward and offered L1000 for the copyright. The author having consented to give the party first in treaty the previous option, the latter now saw the matter in a new light, and ended by paying four times the amount of his original offer.
No notion is more general among authors than that booksellers make rapid fortunes at their expense. One writer has published, that Jacob Tonson and his nephew died worth L200,000 (D'Israeli's Calamities of Authors, vol. i. p. 29); and, not one reader in twenty will stop to question the accuracy of the allegation. It is our firm belief that such a sum was never possessed by any bookseller, or partnership of booksellers; that ever existed. Among them, as in all lines of business, there are examples of considerable capitals; but these are realized only in the case of long-established concerns, and after a progress of acquisition infinitely slower than the angry imagination of a disappointed author allows him to believe. In his eagerness to take for granted that his publishers are getting rich at his expense, he forgets the history of the fathers and grandfathers of the present men, and omits to mark the slow steps by which they paved the way for the eventual rise of their descendants. He fails, likewise, to scrutinize another material point, namely, the quantum which a close calculator would deduct from the fortunes so liberally assigned by report to booksellers. The latter, like all men in business, are desirous of passing for affluent; but if so few publications are found to be successful, must there not follow a large abatement from the imagined extent of their annual gains?
It is, on various accounts, a matter of regret that the limited profits of bookselling business should not be better understood by literary men. The discovery of it would remove the film from their eyes, would lessen greatly their habits of complaint, and would lead to cordial co-operation for redress of their common grievances. A small offer from a bookseller, as in the case of Paley, is indicative, not of a design to overreach, but of an apprehension that to give more would be to injure himself. On the other hand, we are by no means disposed to launch out into a panegyric of the liberality either of particular individuals, or of the body at large. Like other men of calculation, they naturally mete out their advances, not by attachment to the writer, but by the extent of the expected return. A large allowance for a finished book denotes a confidence of extracting a still larger from the public; while the scanty, and apparently niggardly, payment of an unknown author, is a token of the fear and trembling with which a bookseller handles a production of doubtful promise.
The agreement between a bookseller and a new author proceeds commonly as follows: The latter having prepa- red a work, of which he has high hopes, but in which he has not had either guidance or advice, sets out by making an offer of his manuscript; and, after some time taken for consideration, he is answered, that his name not being yet known to the public, the publishers cannot take on themselves to make him a payment for his labour, but are willing to give it to the world on their joint account. This leads to a compact, in terms somewhat like the following:
It is agreed between Messrs Y and Company, booksellers, and Mr Z, that Messrs Y and Company shall print and publish for their account, jointly with Mr Z, in two volumes octavo, his historical work on ———, Mr Z supplying the manuscript, and Messrs Y and Company taking on themselves the paper, printing, and other publishing charges; the statement of the account to be made up every year at midsummer; and when, after deducting the various publishing expenses, there shall appear a balance of profit, the same to be equally shared between Mr Z and Messrs Y and Company. The books to be accounted for at the regular trade sale price.
The publication now takes place; and in a twelvemonth after, an account is made up in the following form:
| Dr | History of ——— by Mr Z. | Cr | |----|--------------------------|---| | Printing 60 sheets, at 10s. | L120 0 0 | 750 copies printed, retail price | | Overprinting and corrections | 10 0 0 | 2½l. the price to the trade | | Proofreading, at 3½d. each | 10 0 0 | | | Advertising, at 1½d. each | 20 0 0 | Delivered to sheets, at 1½l. | | Boards for 50 copies delivered to the author's friend | 10 0 0 | Balance at Dr. carried to next year | | **Total** | **L225 10 0** | **L296 10 0** | Next year the account is considerably shorter, the charges consisting only of advertising and interest of money; but the attraction of novelty having gone off, the sale is also less, and does not probably exceed eighty copies, leaving still an adverse balance of £100. The bookseller goes on with mercantile punctuality to render him a further account; but the scale is now in a state of progressive decrease, and does not, for the third year, exceed fifty copies, leaving still an unfavourable balance of £80. The author now loses patience, and entreats the bookseller to relieve him of all responsibility, by taking over the remaining copies, and considering the account as closed. Such is the fate of five-sixths of the books, great and small, that come before the public. Composed without the benefit of experience, they are unprofitable to the publisher, uninstructive to the reader, and discouraging to the author.
If we are suspected of stating an extreme case, let another be supposed, in which the author is less of a novice, and in which a bookseller, from confidence equally in himself and in the subject, ventures to make an advance of money, and to agree to pay a fixed price for the copyright. An arrangement is made for bringing out the work against a given time, and the writer proceeds with all the ardour attendant on a new enterprise. Authors, however, were never remarkable for accurate calculation, or rather their undertakings are almost always found to require more time and labour than they had anticipated; the prescribed time expires, and the bookseller agrees to postpone it for another twelvemonth. This also passes away; the publishing season draws near; the work is still unfinished; but the author is impatient of further labour; and the bookseller thinks it high time to get a return for his money. The work goes to press, and comes out without either a correction or an acknowledgment of its imperfections, unless the author be particularly modest, in which case the public is requested, in a well-turned apology, to make allowance for his multiplied avocations and the urgent nature of the subject. This is the case with almost all the better class of our new publications; the sale, in such cases, is somewhat less unfavourable than the specimen given above; but four or five years are requisite to run off an edition; and, on coming a second time before the public, it is necessary for the author to do what should have been done at first, revise and correct the whole. A second edition comes out, but under considerable disadvantages; the attraction of novelty is gone, or greatly impaired; the number of readers is lessened by those who have purchased copies of the first edition; and the book has been estimated, in reviews and elsewhere, by an unfavourable standard. The bookseller is thus curtailed of profit, the author of reputation; yet each has the happy gift of throwing blame off his own shoulders; the publisher attributing the failure to the distraction of the public attention by some unlucky novelty; whilst the other vents his complaints on the incurable frivolity of the age. In truth, neither of the parties is much to blame; their conduct is the natural result of their situation. The haste of authors, and the acquiescence of the booksellers, are mainly owing to the short-lived tenure of the fruits of their labour; the habits of the one and the calculations of the other having been all along adapted to this state of things.
Is there, then, no remedy for so mortifying a state of things—no method of relieving the public from such an unprofitable expenditure of time and attention? Some have been desirous to call in the patronage of government, and have argued, that literature can never, like the coarser objects of industry, find adequate re-payment in the fruit of its exertions. It is, indeed, a current subject of complaint among authors, that so few provisions for life should be appropriated to literary men. Sed non tali usu—whatever be their distress, we beg to deprecate any interference on the part of government. No engine is so formidable in the hands of an arbitrary ruler as the press. Look at the degraded picture exhibited by the French press in the reign of Bonaparte, and you will find men, who, under the auspices of freedom, would have acted an independent part, tempted, threatened, and gradually compelled to become the advocates of a tyrant, and to participate in the guilt of riveting the chains of their countrymen. It is in vain even for a liberal legislature or a disinterested sovereign to attempt to make up for the deficient reward of literary labour, by granting pensions or by creating places for men of letters. These measures, though apparently beneficial, carry with them all the disadvantages of irregular and unnatural interference. Literary man promoted, as is not unusual in France, to a government employment, is withdrawn from his proper sphere of utility; he becomes lost to general reasoning and liberal views, amidst the endless details of practical routine. The pension granted to Johnson by Lord Bute was generally approved, both as the fair reward of past industry, and as a reasonable relief to pecuniary difficulty; but what was the consequence? It fostered his natural indolence, prevented the composition of further works, and, by enabling him to live in idleness, rendered him perpetually dissatisfied with himself. Had the property of his literary labour been permanent, he would have received fully as much from the booksellers, and might have continued his proper pursuits under circumstances progressively improving, without incurring the humiliation of dependence, or degrading his name by the composition of party pamphlets.
It is equally vain for zealous friends to attempt making up for the inadequacy in question, by procuring private subscriptions for a work; for though it may be successful in a pecuniary sense, the step is humiliating to the author, is liable to abuse, and is, besides, an interference with the proper business of a bookseller. One of the most splendid of such examples was Pope's translation of Homer; an undertaking where the importance of the task and the talents of the translator called equally for liberal remuneration. Pope was perfectly ready to sacrifice several previous years for the sake of eventual competency, and he found in his friends, particularly in Swift, a most zealous promoter of his views. Proposals were circulated, liberal subscriptions were obtained, and a favourable bargain made with the bookseller; the translation of the Iliad was executed, and will for ever remain a proof of the perseverance to which an author may be prompted by the love of fame, when relieved from pecuniary pressure, and enabled to give long-continued labour to his task. So far all was well; but the success of this first undertaking induced Pope to resort to the same method for publishing a translation of the Odyssey, which proved far inferior, being performed either hastily by himself, or by two conjurors, whose respective contributions, though not altogether concealed, were unfairly represented to the world. Could such an abuse have taken place had subscription been out of the question, and had the remuneration of Pope been proportioned to the eventual sale of his book? The public would in that case have had a translation of equal merit with its predecessor, and Pope would have been spared the reproach of a literary imposition.
The least exceptionable mode of rewarding literary eminence is by church preferment in the southern part of the kingdom, and by admission to professorial chairs in the north. But the extent of both, particularly of the latter, is limited, and does not always place a man in that station where he can be most useful, or in the mode of employment most congenial to his habits. Both, besides, require more of connection, of interest, and of management, than commonly falls to the lot of a retired student.
The only effectual plan is, to find the means of relief in the prosecution of literature itself; to relieve it from existing shackles, and to allow every writer to reap his reward in the sale of his books, exactly as is done in other kinds of employment. This is all that literature wants, and all that it is good for her to have. She will then make no claims to patronage from government, no appeal to the subscriptions of private friends; nor will appointments in the church or in universities be an object of indecent contention; they will be coveted by a smaller number, by those only whose particular habits fit them for such situations. Perpetuity of copyright is as much the right of the author or purchaser of a manuscript, as of the builder or purchaser of a house; and the public will never reap its full harvest of advantage from literary compositions till the law be made to confirm the claim of equity. But as this opinion is as yet far from being general, we shall not press it to its extent, but demand it only for a specific period, leaving the public to enact perpetuity at a future time, when it shall have had undoubted evidence of the beneficial effect of prolongation.
Let us inquire if we can take a useful lesson from the example of our continental neighbours. In France, copyright has received in the present age several prolongations: limited at first to the author's life, it was extended in 1793 to ten years, and in 1805 to no less than twenty years after his death. Taking twenty years as the average of life after the publication of a work, we have here in the whole a medium term of forty years, which is considerably longer than ours. But the grand practical example is to be found in Germany. In that country copyright is perpetual; and though the sales of editions are small, in consequence of the facility of importing clandestine impressions from the territory of neighbouring princes, such is the benefit of permanency, that Germany sends forth more works of lasting use than any other country in Europe. Compare their performances in statistics and geography with those of France, England, or Italy, and we shall be surprised at their superior research, and their careful examination of the necessary documents. It is at present proposed to effect a most important improvement in the state of book property in Germany, by rendering the protection general throughout the empire, and by enacting that a clandestine edition published in a different state shall be subject to the same penalties as if published in the country of the writer. The great powers, Austria and Prussia, are understood to favour this measure, and some objections raised by the lesser states are likely to be overcome; and if the decision of the Diet be favourable, Germany will take the lead of all Europe in the number of standard works.
There is evidently no reason that the term of book property should have a reference to the probable time of an author's life; it is much more equitable to prolong it to a considerable time after his death, as a provision for a family deprived of its natural protector. Our present term of twenty-eight years appears at first sight no inconsiderable tenure; but the circulation of literary works is often only beginning to become considerable when the property is drawing to a close. *Paradise Lost* remained in comparative obscurity for many years; and on coming nearer our own times we find Hume's early works, and even the first volume of his *History*, falling dead-born from the press; whilst Smith's *Wealth of Nations*, the labour of half a lifetime, went through only two editions in the course of eight years. No wonder then that a bookseller should pause before giving a large price for a short-lived possession. But prolong copyright, and you relieve him from the necessity of laying stress on the sale of this or that season; you point his hopes to eventual and permanent circulation; and you put it in his power to pledge himself for a considerable sum, because he is justified by the prospect of its return. An author thus supported and encouraged will no longer scruple to give year after year to studying a subject thoroughly, and bringing out his book in a finished state.
We shall now put these suggestions into a specific form, less under the idea of their forming the basis of a legislative measure, than as a convenient mode of stating the substance of a case.
"Grant in all books to be hereafter published, an extension of copyright for twenty-two years, making in the whole fifty years. Appoint a commission, with power of reference to a jury, to act in all cases where the owners of copyright withhold publication, or confine it to an expensive form. Empower this commission to order the publication of such works in the form they judge most proper, and with the obligation towards the proprietor of the copyright of paying over to him or his representatives the proportion of profit accruing to him by the practice of the trade. (Quarterly Review, vol. viii. p. 112.)
"The power of this commission to be operative only for the additional term of twenty-two years, without application to the existing twenty-eight."
The act of 1814 would thus remain in force. Should it, however, appear in the progress of the discussion that the prolongation made it necessary to take steps for the interest of the public, or of the minor booksellers, the power of the commission might be made applicable to a portion of the twenty-eight years.
The grand objection hitherto has arisen from an idea, that to prolong copyright was to prolong the power of the owner to deal with the public as he chose. Nothing, however, is easier than to separate the two, preserving to the bookseller his property, and giving the public the right of calling for editions of the book, in the manner most suited to general convenience. This seems sufficiently explained in the above provision; and the only matter of surprise is, that it should not have been sooner acted on.
This clause would put book property on so plain and equitable a footing, as to open a prospect to another and very desirable arrangement, namely, a community of copyright between this country and the United States; that is, a mutual compact that "the publisher of a book in the one should possess the property of it also in the other," subject always to the interference of a commission or jury in each country, who should take care that it be given to the public in a cheap and convenient form.
Such is the plan of the proposed alteration. We are Its benefit next to consider its probable effects. And, first, as to literary men: they certainly feel sore at the obligation of sacrificing eleven copies of every book to the public libraries. A prolongation of copyright would go far to remove this uneasy sensation; but we would urge it on higher grounds; and here it is fit to state, that our arguments are not at all intended to favour a mercenary spirit. Persons who write merely for money find at present an ample stock of employment in compiling, abridging, and plagiarizing; they are dead to the feeling of reputation, and incapable of that judicious and honourable calculation which shows that the true way to attain either fame or competency, is to be sparing of early publications, to study in silence, and to aim only at ultimate success. Such men do not properly belong to literature; they have been cast into it merely as a refuge. The men to be benefited by the change would be a very different class; they would be those who embrace literature as others em- Copyright, brace medicine, law, or the church, with the intention of following it as a profession; who make allowance for passing a number of years in unproductive study, and do not repine at the postponement of their reward, if it be not eventually withheld. The proposed alteration would operate in their favour, not by gratifying an avaricious disposition, which literature never engenders, and which, if it previously existed, would be modified, perhaps cured, by such pursuits; but by enabling the individual to pursue his task year after year without discouragement, and without feeling that, by gratifying his personal predilection, he is doing an injury to his family. Improve his circumstances, not that he may amass money, but that he may have the means of support during the long labour necessary to reputation. More is not to be desired; the wants of literary men are few; their residence, their plan of life, and their mode of bringing up a family, ought all to be such as to recall the simplicity of former days.
What a reproach to modern Europe, that, with all the benefit of printing and extended circulation, our literary compositions should not have surpassed those of the ancients! Does not this argue that there must exist somewhere an unhappy counteraction to our advantages? In number of studious men we far surpass the fairest days of Greece and Rome; but few of them comparatively become writers; they meet a great deal of difficulty and discouragement in their attempts to address the public; and the result is, that their knowledge expires with themselves. Such will be the case until an effectual change be made; we shall have the mortification of seeing men capable of enlightening the world and accelerating the progress of improvement, doomed to waste their time in teaching, or relinquishing literature for professions productive of money. Others who prefer the gratification of their taste to all considerations of property, must be content to live on a trifling pittance abroad, or in a corner of their own country, remote from libraries and the pleasure of literary intercourse.
To make literature a profession for life is almost a new project; for hardly any men have set out with the intention of making it their sole employment. They have consequently proceeded without a settled plan, have arrived at no definite method until advanced in years, and have seldom, if ever, thought of drawing up instructions for the guidance of their successors. Observe in mercantile business, in public offices, and in the law, how labour is methodized and subdivided; in what manner the mechanical and uninstruction part is made to devolve on inferior assistants, and the time of the principal reserved for general views and important decisions. In literature, anything of the kind that has yet been attempted is in its infancy; yet the same plan is applicable; and were authors so far at their ease as to be enabled to make an undisturbed apportionment of their time, they would soon learn to make great improvements in their mode of study.
Some booksellers apprehend, that if authors were assured of a prolonged term, they, the booksellers, would not so soon have the option of buying copyrights; at all events, they would pay dearer for them. This reasoning is plausible, but, like the general conclusions of most practical men, will be found to be drawn from a narrow circumference. Whatever be the duration of copyright, the property of it, in nineteen cases out of twenty, must be vested in the bookseller. How can authors have the means of running the risks, or waiting year after year for the tardy returns of sale? Must they not continue to exchange these formidable contingencies for a specific allowance in ready money? To write books is one thing; to sell and to hold the property of them is another. The one is the province of the retired and sedentary student; the other of the man of activity and capital. Again, as to augmentation of price, booksellers would, indeed, in the event of a prolongation, find it necessary to increase the remuneration of good writers; but this increase would be repaid them threefold in the augmented value of their editions, which would, in that case, probably embrace the circulation of the United States. Give encouragement to our own writers, and the compositions offered to our booksellers will soon be such as to justify an extent of impression equal to those of France, where two or three thousand copies are struck off for one thousand in England. Observe the effect of such a change in facilitating the recovery of the drawback on paper; a drawback at present of little benefit to our exporting booksellers, because the books shipped to America are frequently in such petty lots as not to defray the expense of the debenture. These considerations are of high importance at a time when we suffer from the printing, on the Continent, of rival editions of our standard books, for the American market.
Cheapness is not to be sought by inferiority of type and paper; but it would be the result of those progressive improvements, which would soon take place were things left to their natural operation. An increase in the size of an edition implies a reduction of price to the public. Now the cheapening of books is productive of great advantage. It would enable us both to supply the foreign market and to increase greatly our circulation at home, by inducing individuals to buy books which they would otherwise borrow, and to have always at hand those to which they would otherwise have only occasional access.
What is the ordinary course of the business of a great publishing house? A large proportion of the books they send forth pass unnoticed, and hardly defray the expense of paper and print. What loads of unsaleable volumes encumber their warehouse! What a heavy expense do they incur for unproductive advertising! The success of the house depends on the very few works of standard merit, perhaps one in twenty, which obtain extensive sale, and form a counterpoise to their ill-starred brethren. Now, the effect of a prolongation of copyright would be to increase very considerably this select number, and to afford on a large, that benefit which is now enjoyed on a small scale. Booksellers have merely to look around them to see that those publications succeed best where the encouragement of the writer is most liberal. The expense of paper, print, and advertising, is as great on a bad as on a good manuscript, and it would in time become a rule with our leading booksellers to publish none but first-rate books. If they adhered to that, they might safely dispense with repeated and expensive calls on the public attention; the name of their house would do more than any thing else.
Another, and by no means inconsiderable advantage, of a valuable manuscript, is the power of obtaining an allowance from a French or a German bookseller for the use of the English sheets for the purpose of translating; a point hitherto little attempted, in consequence of the trifling nature of most of our publications.
Booksellers complain, and probably with truth, of the vanity and unreasonableness of authors; but literature has many attractions, and whenever you satisfy men that they will not doom themselves to a life of poverty by following it, you may be assured that you will soon have to transact with a very superior class of writers.
It is usual with booksellers, when treating with an author of reputation, to make their bargain with reference to successive editions; that is, they pay a certain sum for the first, a further sum when a second is called for, and a final payment on the appearance of a third generally completes the purchase of the copyright. This plan is highly desirable, and would be regularly acted upon, could the bookseller have full confidence in authors. It reduces the risk of the former, while to the author it affords the gratification of prospect, and gives him the strongest motives to render his book worthy of permanent favour.
Such is the state of the case as regards the elder brethren of the trade, the principal publishers. But we must address a few words likewise to a numerous, and, in general, a respectable class, the printers and lesser booksellers. These persons may apprehend that a prolongation of copyright would prove a continued suspension of their power of coming forward with cheap editions; but we refer them to the clause in the above sketch of the proposed act, which might be so framed as to allow any bookseller who chose to make the speculation, to print an edition of a work on his obtaining the assent of the proprietor of the copyright; or, failing that assent, on his getting the sanction of the commission or jury authorized to settle disputed points.
We are next to call on the lesser booksellers and printers to take a comprehensive view of their situation, and to mark that progressive extension of the bookselling business, which shows that there is no ground for keeping up ancient jealousies, or for considering the interest of one branch as different from that of others. Look back to the history of the trade, and observe how it has gradually, and without the aid of interference, divided itself into a variety of distinct branches. Booksellers combined at first the sale of stationery with that of books; and hence the Stationers' Company. In process of time they relinquished, in great towns at least, that unnecessary appendage, and, after a further lapse of years, divided the wholesale book business from the retail. Progressive extension led next to a distinction between the sale of new and old books; and we have at present in one house (the house so well known as the publishers of Hume and Robertson) the example of an establishment avoiding all business, even wholesale, except what relates to books printed for their own account. These subdivisions tend exceedingly to facilitate business; they cause it to be done both better and to greater extent. Experience shows that the repartition of employment is the true road to success, and that men cannot more effectually clog their progress than by attempting to conjoin dissimilar undertakings. The further course of things, particularly under an extension of the term of copyright, would lead to establishments on a still more simple plan; some booksellers would confine themselves to the mere purchase of copyrights, and leave not only the printing, but the sale, to the trade at large. Is that prospect calculated to alarm either the printers or minor booksellers? Does it not tend to show that things, when left to their natural course, fall invariably into their true channel, and render superfluous both the care of the legislature and the by-laws of corporations? Nothing can be clearer to a man of business than that the dearer an edition the fewer the purchasers; and that the true plan is to meet the demand of all classes with as little delay as possible. This we see repeatedly exemplified in the case of new books, where an octavo edition is brought forward before the sale of the quarto is completed; but as all booksellers might not be equally accommodating, the plain alternative is to invest a commission with explicit power to interfere. That would form a full and conclusive answer to those arguments which Judge Yates on the bench, Lord Kames in the Court of Session, and Lord Camden in the House of Peers, so strongly urged against giving what they termed the "continued monopoly of a book." These distinguished persons were not aware that the property of a book might be preserved to an author or purchaser, whilst the mode of selling it was subjected to regulation. They could not see by intuition what it has taken no small share of time and reflection to discover.
The existing restriction of the term of copyright tends to induce an author to make his work less perfect in the first instance, with the view of affording him an easy method of renewing the exclusive property. Gibbon did not scruple to write to his publisher, that a thorough revision of his history would form "a valuable renewal of the copyright at the end of the term." Several publishers follow this plan avowedly and habitually.
We by no means assert, however, that the proposed change would stop the appearance of trifling works, since every man must be allowed to dispose of his time and property as he chooses; but it would surprisingly increase the number of good books, prompting many, who are at present entirely discouraged, to become authors, and inducing others who labour, but labour with haste, to give a finish and attraction to their performances.
It is long since Dr Johnson pronounced us "a nation of readers," though we are still extremely deficient in standard works, and on subjects too where we ought to have been long since amply supplied. Have we a good general history of Ireland or Scotland, or even of England? No wonder that we should still be deprived of such works when we calculate the time, labour, and expense required in their composition. Since public records have become so voluminous, and the transactions of nations so complicated, whoever undertakes to do justice to such topics will find himself subjected to a variety of expenses. He must set apart two, perhaps three, years for what apparently requires one; he must have his residence in the vicinity of great libraries; he must carry on an extensive correspondence; he must employ clerks in making copies of official documents and family papers. The same observations are applicable to scientific labours. At present no bookseller can afford to indemnify a writer for the years he would be disposed to bestow on a favourite but insulated branch: he must have a work on a subject of general interest; that is, one which will take in a number of topics, without going to the bottom of any. But prolong the term, and afford a prospect that a well-written book, even in a limited department, will make its way, and the bookseller will find himself justified in offering to the author a sum which will enable the latter to indulge in his predilection for the branch in question. This point is of great consequence, for almost every author has a favourite subject, which he would cultivate with great zeal, did not necessity oblige him to turn aside to popular topics for the sake of a livelihood. We have known works that might have been completed in two or three years, postponed from time to time so as to occupy seven, eight, or nine, in consequence of those unwelcome avocations.
The more a man of taste and judgment studies the true nature of composition, the more he becomes attached to simplicity; he loses the relish for flowery diction; he learns to chasten his early predilection for ambitious passages; for point and antithesis he substitutes the plain language of the Grecian and Roman models. Such a style is calculated to be permanent, but may not for some time be popular, perverted as the public taste is by a habitual tone of exaggeration and inflation. The reward of such writers is thus to be found only in length of time. Grant, but that, and you will accomplish a total change in the character of new books, rendering the writers indifferent
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1 Correspondence from Lausanne, annexed to his Memoirs. Coques to whatever may be called tricks of composition, and directing their attention to the plain, the solid, the permanent. What a prospect is here opened both of improving our national style and of diffusing useful information!
We have treated this subject with reference to four distinct parties; authors, publishing booksellers, the lesser booksellers with the printers, and finally the public: yet we challenge any opponent to produce a single point in which the advantage of the one is not found to coincide with and promote the advantage of the others.
How then has it happened that a case calling so strongly for amendment has not hitherto been fully brought before the public? The reasons are the following:
Publishing booksellers have been, and still are, unconscious of the extent of improvement which it would produce in literary composition.
The lesser booksellers and printers were not aware of the practicability of combining prolongation of copyright with freedom in publishing editions.
The former opponents of the measure proposed, such as Lord Camden, were equally unaware of the possibility of the provision in question.
And as to literary men, their error has been partly in want of co-operation, partly in asking too much, by urging a claim to perpetuity.
But is there now any prospect of the adoption of such a measure? The progress of improvement is slow; our legislatures have not leisure to study such matters to the bottom, and our practical men are in general wedded to ancient usage. At the same time, there are strong reasons to hope, that the question, if taken up by a spirited and persevering member of parliament, will eventually be carried. The universities afford an encouraging example. They have long possessed copyright without abusing it. Booksellers are accustomed, particularly since the peace, to take a much wider view of their business; they aim at exportation, reduce their prices, and seek an equivalent in a larger circulation. As to authors, their object is completely the same with that of the public, namely, extended circulation. We have the example of successive prolongations of copyright in this country and in France; and a most encouraging proof of the effects of perpetuity in Germany. Finally, it may be safely urged, that, until some such measure is adopted, the English public will receive few standard books.
The number of new literary works which come out in Great Britain annually is computed at 1500. This is exclusive of reprints, pamphlets, and periodical publications. Taking the average editions of each at 750 copies, we have a total of more than a million of new volumes published annually in Great Britain. In France, the number of newly published volumes is greater, because the editions are larger; but, of all countries, Germany is in this respect the most remarkable, the new works published there annually exceeding five thousand, or three to one compared to those of England or France.