wrongly, that he could make money by an opposition edition, he was apt, unless deterred by personal considerations, to get one out. But it took very little experience to show that, as things were then, an opposition edition seldom could pay. If one set of pages in type, or stereotype plates, could be paid for by the sale of a thousand impressions, and a profit realized on the sale of another thousand, an opposition set of stereotype plates selling that second thousand would be but barely paid for; and unless the sale should reach two thousand there would be a loss, probably, on the edition coming out last. Should there be three editions, still less would there be a chance of a profit on any. So it came to be realized that if one publisher got out a book, it was best, in ordinary cases, for other publishers to let it alone.* Therefore competition was, in the main, restricted to facilities for getting foreign books out first, and sometimes even, in imitation of the enterprise of certain newspapers, special plans were made to meet vessels coming in with books. A quicker plan was, however, to pay the English printer to send over a set of proofs before the book was printed, or of sheets before they were bound; and thus grew up the habit of buying "advance sheets." But, except in the case of established authors, this was " buying a pig in a poke." What was to be done about the untried authors? Many more books appeared from them than from the established ones, and, of course, among them were all the germs of future fame and of connections which, though of doubtful present value to the publisher, might be important later.

To meet such questions, there gradually grew up, between, say, 1850 and 1876, the unwritten law now somewhat widely known, but less widely understood, of "trade courtesy." It not only prevented ruinous competition between American publishers, but also secured to foreign authors most of their rights. It was, as I have intimated, simply the result of an enlightened self-interest, but eventually so enlightened as to give an unusual

* Recent occurrences have shown apparent exceptions to this rule, but they are only apparent. The only reason why judicious publishers now issue so many books with the prospect of opposition editions before them, is to keep up connections that they hope will again be valuable. Detailed reasons will appear later.

degree of recognition, perhaps in most cases of sympathetic recognition, to the good old proverb mentioned at the outset.

The law began with a tacit agreement to prevent the typesetting for a book by two houses, by leaving the book to the house first announcing its intention to print it. An announcement, to be official, it was soon agreed, must be made in some recognized medium, and the New York "Commercial Advertiser was so recognized. Some houses, however, got to announcing everything they could hear of as forthcoming-even, by occasional mistakes, some American books already printed; and so latterly it grew to be generally agreed that the announcement must be made only when a book was actually in hand. But one house could import a book as well as another, and so, even with this provision, official announcements were often simultaneous, and therefore futile for the purpose in view. This, as well as that sense of fairness which is at least ready to respond when self-interest backs it up, made it natural to give the preference to the house that had bought advance sheets, or that by some contract had secured the sanction of the author. In fact, the announcement system was never intended to supersede the purchase or contract system, but only to supplement it in the case of new authors where purchase or contract was dangerous. It was not natural for new foreign authors to take their own risks in America as new authors sometimes do in their own countries, and difficulties of communication did not favor either submitting manuscripts here before printing them at home, or holding back books there until the American publishers could decide from advance sheets. As a matter of fact, then, contracts were mainly restricted to the works of tried authors; and, under the régime of trade courtesy, the contracts of one house were generally respected by the other houses. Untried authors of promise were generally taken up, not by contract, but by priority of announcement, and these announcements were likewise respected, some arrangement being made when announcements were simultaneous. It was farther agreed, however, that a house taking the risk of an untried author should have the right of first consideration of the author's other works, and although it was impracticable for one house to look very closely into another's relations with

an author, and insist upon their being what they should be, the sentiment became distinct that a house, to retain its right of first consideration of an author's works, must make terms satisfactory to him. Moreover, a house making a success with an author's first book was generally eager enough, in its own interest, to secure his second from the author himself, and to propitiate him by payment of a reasonable share of any profit made on the first. Yet in exceptional cases the absence of statutory law permitted some just complaint and a good deal of unjust grumbling. The latter came from authors who were not appreciated here as highly as they thought they ought to be, or as highly as the enthusiasm of their admirers led them to suppose they were, in spite of their publishers' reports. Some complaints, too, came from authors fatuous enough to sell to their European publishers their rights for the whole world, and then, after the publishers had sub-sold the rights for America, to abuse them for not giving the money to the authors, or to abuse the American publishers for not paying the money a second time to them.

Despite all these complaints and uncertainties, however, it is the simple truth, confirmed by the vast majority of eminent English authors, that, under trade courtesy, most authors of consequence got their just dues, and that those of no consequence did too, but the latter were not always satisfied with them. Thus trade courtesy grew to have the essential features of an International Copyright Law, and though, like all usages, and, for that matter, like all laws, it had its gaps and defects, it turned some millions of well-earned dollars into the pockets of authors to whom the American people's obligations are simply immeasur able, and it gave our young literature a chance to grow without the blighting shadow of unnatural competition which is now thrown over it by the break-down of that system and the inadequacy of our laws.

Under trade courtesy, the houses that were able to commend themselves to authors were gradually building up a clientage very tempting to adventurers willing to take it without paying for it; moreover, before the war trade courtesy existed largely because the natural distribution of industries then prevented the undue crowding of labor and capital into manufacturing. Dur

ing the war, though manufactures had been unduly stimulated at the general expense by the protective tariff, they had been so confined to matters demanded by the war that trade courtesy still remained safe. But when peace came, under the protective system the increase of manufactures at the expense of other pursuits became enormous, and finally began to overflow even into the remote fields of letters, and to seek, as it was seeking elsewhere, material to work upon at almost any cost. Not only was it tempted by the preserves made through years of labor and no little fair-dealing by the established publishing houses, but it was, in a sense, crowded into those preserves by the general glut elsewhere. The manufacturers of machinery set up printing-offices and binderies right and left on credit. The paper mills needed more outlets for their excessive products, and to secure them, literally tempted adventurers into the piratical publishing of vast piles of cheap books, which were largely forced into the markets at prices that not only paid no profits, but in most cases brought on failures that left the printers and binders in the lurch, and often the paper makers themselves.

These two causes the temptations to new-comers to break in on the clientage of the established houses, and the glut of manufactures-broke trade courtesy down. With it went probably nine-tenths of the payment to foreign authors, and, what is of more immediate consequence to Americans, the best reading habits of our people and, at least until a remedy comes, the best prospects of our literature.

I will now attempt to explain the grounds of these assertions. As to the payment to English authors: the inexperienced reader would probably suppose that two editions would simply divide the market, and that if only one paid the author, it could pay him at least half of what it would have paid if it had had the whole market. Such is apparently the view of some writers, to be commented on later. But I have already indicated why this cannot be. Books that will pay for type-setting and advertising and publishers' office expenses once, will seldom pay for them twice, and very rarely three times. So the chance of a book's paying is vastly decreased, instead of increased, by a multiplication of publishers. Of the many editions under piracy,

very few indeed have made any money, and unless money is made by publishers, it cannot long be paid to authors.

As to the effect on the reading habits of our people: the general character of the cheap stuff poured on the market under piracy every intelligent reader knows. It includes the good things in light literature, but it also includes more bad things than were ever reprinted before. Under trade courtesy, books were always published for some reason in themselves. Now many are taken up only to keep the paper mills going, and to keep the series going. The numbers are published at regular intervals, as periodicals, in order that they may have the cheap postage allowed periodicals, and that they may secure habitual buyers. To do this they must appear regularly, and if not enough attractive books appear to keep a series going, it must be filled in with what can be had. Moreover, as each book in a series is advertised in all the rest, many will "go" in a series, that could never go alone.

But the increased reading of poor novels in place of good ones is by no means the only or the most important damage done by the flood of pirated reprints. People in general no longer read much of anything that cannot be had in these cheap editions; in other words, much of history, travel, belles-lettres, or science. A publisher now expects to place only about a third of the number of a new, substantial book, native or foreign, that he could twelve years ago, so the publishing of such books is largely abandoned.

Such books could then be successfully published largely, in virtue of a habit among some people of buying more books than they could read, either in the hope of reading them eventually, or for a certain satisfaction in having them. That habit was very valuable; it not only tempted to good reading, but it was a sort of subvention, free from any of the objections to subvention, which made possible the publication of many valuable books that could not be published without it. That habit is killed. In the face of a novel by George Eliot for twenty cents, people who do not count their pennies before worse expenditures, count them before paying a dollar or two for a book by anybody else.