The pen and the book

THE PEN AND THE BOOK.

he Book

BY

WALTER BESANT

LONDON :

THOMAS BURLEIGH
1899

BARNICOTT AND PEARCE
PRINTERS

?R

PREFACE.

THIS book is written for the instruction and the
guidance of those young persons, of whom there
are now many thousands, who are thinking of
the Literary Life. It is written for no other
persons, and may therefore be considered as, in a
sense, privately printed. After the devotion of
over thirty years to this life, I may, perhaps,
be allowed to have acquired some experience.
During this long period I have been a writer of
leading articles, a reviewer, a writer of literary
studies, a writer of history and biography, a
novelist and a dramatist. I have read for a
publisher : I have edited one archaological sur-
vey, and I am engaged in directing another :
there are, therefore, very few branches of litera-

BARNICOTT AND PEARCE
PRINTERS

PREFACE.

THIS book is written for the instruction and the
guidance of those young persons, of whom there
are now many thousands, who are thinking of
the Literary Life. It is written for no other
persons, and may therefore be considered as, in a
sense, privately printed. After the devotion of
over thirty years to this life, I may, perhaps,
be allowed to have acquired some experience.
During this long period I have been a writer of
leading articles, a reviewer, a writer of literary
studies, a writer of history and biography, a
novelist and a dramatist. I have read for a
publisher : I have edited one archaeological sur-
vey, and I am engaged in directing another :
there are, therefore, very few branches of litera-

vi Preface.

ture in which I have not been actively engaged.
But, in addition to the experience thus acquired
of writing in many branches, it has been my
good fortune to acquire another and quite a
different kind of experience. For four years I
was Chairman of the Committee of the Society
of Authors : and for seven years I have been
editor of their organ, the Author. In these
capacities I have had my attention necessarily
turned to the commercial side of literature ; I
have been compelled to occupy myself with the
study and the understanding of all those facts
connected with publishing which have been com-
monly withheld from authors. In these pages I
present to my reader, for his guidance, all the
facts necessary to be known in connection with
the production and the sale of a book.

To the thousands of young persons whom I
address, the Literary Life offers attractions
which are almost irresistible. The old bugbear
— the prejudice formerly so well founded — of
poverty has vanished. It is now well known
that a respectable man of letters may command

Preface. vii

an income and a position quite equal to those of
the average lawyer or doctor. It is also well
known that one who rises to the top may enjoy
as much social consideration as a Bishop and as
good an income. These points being now thor-
oughly well known and admitted by all, the
number of those who would enter the ranks of
literature increases every day.

It is my design in this book to present aspi-
rants first with a general view of the Literary
Life ; next, with a chapter on the requirements
of each branch ; and thirdly, with the facts re-
lating to the meaning and value of literary
property. I have endeavoured to make my
readers understand that this kind of work
should be regarded as a career worthy of the
highest honour and respect : that it should be
taken in hand most seriously and earnestly, and
with due regard to the responsibilities of the
work. And I have endeavoured to make the
young writer, at the outset, independent of the
publishers by presenting him, as I said above,
with the real meaning of a book as regards the

viii Preface.

printer, the paper maker, the binder, and the
bookseller. Armed with this knowledge, the
writer will be enabled to understand what a
proposed agreement means for himself and the
publisher : it will go a long way to prevent his
giving away his property or being " bested." In
order to make the application of these figures
the easier, tables have been drawn up which show
the meaning of royalties to publisher and au-
thor respectively : and the principal modes of
publishing will be found set forth, reviewed, and
explained.

I have sought to render the book more com-
plete by adding a chapter on Copyright, by
Mr. G. H. Thring, Secretary of the Society of
Authors ; and another on Journalism, by a prac-
tical journalist attached to the staff of a London
daily paper.

I have also added a chapter on the " Relations
of Author and Bookseller," a subject which has
never before been touched upon, although it is
one of the highest importance. This short chap-
ter I earnestly commend to my reader's careful
attention.

Preface. ix

This kind of knowledge — the practical work-
ing of Literary Property — has been quite
recently rendered more necessary than formerly
by the issue of certain " draft agreements " by
the Committee of the Publishers' Association.
These agreements have been published in the
Author (July, 1898), and are to be produced in
separate form. I need not speak of them here
except to lay down to the reader a most serious
warning that the pretensions advanced by the
publishers are such that they can only be
characterized as grasping beyond all belief: and
that if they were allowed, there would be an end,
once for all, to the Profession of Literature,
because that profession cannot continue to exist
when the proceeds of a man's brain and work
are all claimed and swooped up by the middle-
man. But these pretensions are not yet allowed.
I have only to add that I shall be obliged by
any suggestions as to omission or commission in
these pages.

WALTER BESANT.

UNITED UNIVERSITIES CLUB,
Nov., 1898.

CONTENTS.

PAGE

INTRODUCTION — The Life of Letters . 1

BOOK I.

CHAP. I. Preparation .... 38
„ II. Of those who enter the Lit-
eral/ Life .. . . 51
„ III. Critic and Essayist . . 62
„ IV. The Life of Imagination . 73
„ V. The Editor . . . .115
„ VI. In the Employment of a Pub-
lisher . , . . 121

BOOK II.

CHAP. I. The Commercial Side . . 132

„ II. The Cost of Production . 145

„ III. The Methods of Publishing . 167

„ IV. Special Subjects .. . 187

„ V. The Choice of a Publisher . 191

„ VI. Dishonesty and Fraud . 200

„ VII. The Method of the Future . 207

BOOK III.

CHAP. I. The Literary Agent . . • 214

„ II. In Search of an Editor . . 224

„ III. Journalism . . . 231
„ IV. The Relations of Bookseller

and Author .. . . 262
„ V. Copyright and Literary Pro-
perty .... 270
„ VI. Summary . '.. . . 313
APPENDIX — Prospectus of the Society of

Authors ' . , . 321

INDEX 341

INTRODUCTION.

I DESIRE in this Introductory chapter to pre-
sent the Literary Life in outline to my readers.
I cannot hope that what I have to say will be
altogether new : but I do hope that I may be
able to present some points of freshness : that I
may be able to throw some light upon the con-
ditions of modern literature, which may lead up
to the chapters which follow.

First, then, what do we mean by the Literary
Life?

Now, if you look at the census of 1891, you
will find returned as authors, editors, and jour-
nalists in England and Wales the number of
about 5800. As authors, editors, and journalists
do often overlap and run into one another's field
of work, we will not try to distinguish them.
But you would carry away a very false impres-
sion of the numbers engaged in literary work if
you think this number represents all, or even a
half, of those who produce literature. There
are clergymen, professors, lecturers, teachers of
all kinds, lawyers, doctors, men in every branch
of science, artists of all kinds, all of whom pro-

2 The Pen and the Booh.

duce literary work. Literature is universal,
and embraces everything : and the number of
those who are literary men by profession is
small indeed compared with the number of those
who are literary men in fact. Take, for in-
stance, the clergy. Consider how many of them
are literary men — writers of books — books on
theology, on scholarship, on archaeology, on
criticism, on history, in poetry, in fiction.
Think what we should lose if such men as Dean
Stanley, Chalmers, Stubbs, Lightfoot, Maurice,
Kingsley, Martineau, had never written. And
so in other professions. For one man who
actually lives by literary work there are three
or four to whom the production of literature is
an occasional event, perhaps an occasional neces-
sity. I think we should not be far wrong in
placing the whole number of men and women
engaged more or less in literary work at some-
thing like 20,000.

When, therefore, we speak of the Literary
Life, it should include all those who produce
literature. In common usage, however, we
generally apply the term of Literary Life only
to those who follow the profession of letters.
And it is of them, and to them, especially that I
wish to speak.

Then, again, what do we mean by literature ?
For my own part, I do not limit the word to the
few precious gems, one or two in a generation,
which are granted to a people. I include the

The Life of Letters. 3

Avhole of current printed work — good and bad—
the whole production of the day — whatever is
offered. I am quite aware that most of it de-
servedly dies at once : but it is still part of cur-
rent literature. The great works of the masters
form our National literature : all the works of
the present day taken together form the current
literature.

It is a very common, and a very foolish,
affectation to pretend that there is no profession
of letters : and this in the face of the obvious
and notorious fact that thousands of persons do
actually live by that profession. Let us not be
carried away by this nonsense. It may be that
out of the thousands who now live by letters
there are not twenty who will be remembered in
a hundred years : that does not affect the ques-
tion at all. It is enough for us to remember
that there are these thousands who actually live
by producing attempts at literature, and who do
really lead, whether in its higher forms or not,
the Literary Life.

Yet one more definition. In everything that
is said, or that may be read, about the profession
of literature and literary property, let us most
carefully keep quite separate and distinct in our
minds the literary value of a work and the com-
mercial value of a work. There need not be
any connection at all between the two. What
I mean will be understood exactly if we ask
what would have been the price paid by an edi-

4 The Pen and the Book.

tor to Burns for one of his immortal poems in
his lifetime. Would he have given the poet a
guinea ? I doubt it. Does it make the least
difference to that poem whether he got twopence
or £100 for it ? It is quite conceivable that a
poem of the very highest value, one destined to
sink into the very inmost heart of the people,
and to abide with us as long as the language it-
self endures, may be published in a cheap maga-
zine and bought for the merest trifle. Remem-
ber that Milton got £10 for his " Paradise
Lost " : Johnson, £10 for his " Satire of Lon-
don " : Oliver Goldsmith, £60 for his " Vicar of
Wakefield." Some writers talk loosely about
the worth of a book. Ask what kind of worth
is meant : and when people speak very foolishly
about the shameful neglect of one author, while
another, far inferior, is run after, remember that
the literary worth of the neglected author may
be fully acknowledged by all whose judgment is
worth having, but that the other man, for some
reason or other, is the greater favourite, for the
time, with the people. If a good book is not in
demand, that fact does not make it a bad book.
If a bad book is in demand, that fact does not
make it a good book. Now, these considerations
might seem elementary, were it not for the con-
stantly recurring confusions as to this point.
They are constantly recurring and constantly
causing mischief. One cannot too earnestly im-
press this distinction upon our mind. Let us

The Life of Letters. 5

keep separate the literary value of a work and
its commercial vahie. The Literary value you
understand without any definition : the com-
mercial value of the book is just measured by
the public demand for it — that and nothing more.

The first thing, then, that calls for attention
in the Literary Life is its wonderful fascination.
It attracts all classes. Editors receive every
day poems, tales, sketches, essays — -all kinds of
things — from the most unlikely and the most
unexpected places. They come from the mouth
of the coal pit : from the factory : from the
workshop ; from the shop counter : from the
palace. We all write ; we all want to write.
That matters little so long as people are con-
tented to remain at their own work and to make
of their writing an amusement and a recreation.
Unfortunately, too many are so carried away
with the charm of the work that they desire to
live altogether by their pens : they want, above
all things, to shake off any other kind of business
and to be nothing but writers. Again, unfor-
tunately, the desire alone, however strong,
cannot bring with it the power and the natural
aptitude.

If we ask why the Literary Life possesses so
many attractions, we shall find many reasons.
For instance, those who are attracted by it are
very often great readers, devourers of books :
they want to live among books : to read them
all day long : they think that in the life they

6 The Pen and the Book.

desire they will be able to do so. Then, again,
it is a quiet life : it is certainly free from the
worries and anxieties of business. And there
seems — in some cases there is — less servitude in
it : one can work at any hour he pleases, and as
long as he pleases. Again, there is in it a cer-
tain absence of money making and money seek-
ing : the artist is wholly absorbed in his work :
while it lasts he can have no thought of money —
you cannot imagine a poet over his work asking
himself how much he has earned that morning.
These are the most obvious reasons for this sin-
gular fascination. There are other reasons, not
quite so obvious : such as the joys and pains of
composition ; the sense of battle in grappling
with language and compelling it to express ex-
actly what is desired — that and nothing more.
This is, I believe, a very potent force in deter-
mining the candidate for literary honours. And
we must not forget the consideration that the
life of letters — if it is successful — does really
in the long run confer more dignity and respect
upon a man than any other line of work, unless
it be the Church. Which of the two, for in-
stance, does the world love most — Marlborough
or Addison ? Which of the two, Scott or
Wellington? One cannot choose but to con-
sider, that a young man, in entering upon a life
of letters, desires a prize of which the best part
is the love and respect of the world. Of course
we think here only of the leading men : we

The Life of Letters. 7

understand the love with which Burns, Walter
Scott, Charles Dickens, Tennyson, Charles
Lamb, and others are regarded by the world.
Surely we must acknowledge that it is a very
beautiful thing, and it should be an ennobling
thing, for a young man to nourish the ambition
of winning the love of the world. It should
make him careful of his conduct : it should make
him feel that in the future, when he is famous, a
fierce white light will be turned upon every dis-
coverable day of his life : that every unworthy
act will be raked up, and every moment of weak-
ness will be recorded against him. It should
make him remember, too, that our love for these
great writers is not really based upon the facts
of their lives, in spite of our curiosity into those
facts, but upon their writings, and that the world
feels — it is the instinctive feeling — I am sure
that it is a true feeling — that every man who can
write at all — write, that is, so as to move the
world — reveals in his work himself — his own
heart — his own personality. The poet — the no-
velist—the preacher who makes us love him wins
our love by the figure, more or less shadowy,
that every one constructs of him out of his writ-
ings. One might go even farther, and lay it
down as a ride that the writers who cannot com-
mand our love cannot achieve their survival even
beyond their own generation.

These, then, are some of the reasons for the
undoubted fascination of the life of letters. The

8 The Pen and the Book.

love of books : the desire of a quiet life : the
imaginary freedom from the ordinary cares : the
joy of composition : the desire to achieve the
love and respect of the world : their own respect
and love for great authors — these are the chief
among the many determining forces which may
make a young man or a young woman ardently
desire to embrace the profession of letters.

These are the attractions. History, however,
points a warning finger. " Pause ! " she says.
" Read in my page — that page which tells of the
calamities and the sorrows of authors. You
dream of the ideal life — the successful life :
there is another side — that of the unsuccessful.
Consider this side, too." It is, as we all know,
a dreadful page — a terrible page. There is life-
long penury in it : starvation : suicide : a debt-
or's prison : hard and grinding work for miserable
pay : a cruel task-master : work done to order
paid for by the yard. As for the wished-for
life among books, these unfortunate poets could
not afford to buy books : as for freedom, quiet,
ease, they never had any at all. Even the joy
of composition, which one would think could not
be taken from them, they could never enjoy, be-
cause they wrote to order and what they were
told to write : they were paid servants : they
lived in a garret : they never rose out of poverty
and misery : they were buried in the paupers'
corner. In this doleful page of history the can-
didates for literary glory could read how Eustace

The Life of Letters. 9

Budgell leaped into the river and so ended his
miserable days : how Henry Carey, even while
his song of " Sally in our Alley " was sung in
every other house, killed himself to escape
starvation : how Chatterton poisoned himself :
how William Pattison died at twenty-one of a
broken heart : how Richard Savage ended his
days in a debtor's prison : how Oliver Gold-
smith half starved in a garret : how Collins
went mad : and how the rest of the fraternity —
all beginning with the hope of fame and honour,
and the income which belongs to fame and
honour — were ragged mendicants, drinking
where they could, begging for one more guinea,
crowding at the booksellers' shops, handing
round the hat for subscriptions to their new
volume of poems, or for assistance to keep them
out of the Fleet Prison. Warnings there were
in plenty : warnings there are still : it is true
that these names belong to the last century, but
it is also certain that there are at the present
moment wrecks in plenty to warn the new
comer of the perils in his way. One has only to
look around in order to find out these wrecks :
to discern the men who put out from port, years
ago, with flowing sails and flying flags, and now
return with the battered hulk which hardly
keeps afloat : men who made a bid for success
and have failed : who now live sordid lives,
doing the lowest drudgery of literary work for the
pay that is tossed to a drudge : men who have

10 The Pen and the Book.

achieved no kind of fame or name, and now have
to endure the bitterness of watching the men who
they fondly believe are no better than themselves,
borne upward amid the plaudits of the multitude.

There is another warning in addition to the
voice of History. This warning is the universal
opinion as to literature considered as a calling.
You all know what that was. Every bookish
boy who would enter the ranks of literature was
warned that it was a beggarly profession — a starv-
ing profession. For there was this curious para-
dox as regards literature. We respected and
loved the writer who could make us love him —
we despised the profession by which he lived.
It is as if we should respect the general and
despise the army : or as if we should respect the
judge and despise the law. There, however, was
the universal opinion. Literature, we were
agreed, is a beggarly profession.

How did that opinion grow up ? How did we
come to believe it ? Well : I think it may be
traced back to the last century, and to the
starving poets of that time. Come back with
me for a moment to the middle of the eighteenth
century. Life was then far more open and
visible to all than it is at present. Every pro-
fession by its uniform proclaimed itself : the
clergyman wore his cassock and his gown in the
street — that was his uniform : the king's officers
had no other dress but their uniform : the
physician wore his great wig and black velvet

The Life of Letters. 1 1

coat, aiid carried his gold-headed stick with the
pomander box — that was his uniform : the
lawyer wore his wig and gown, also, in the
street and in the coffee-house — it was his uni-
form : the nobleman if he walked had his gold
star blazing on his chest ; if he rode, his runners
in white cloth ran before his carriage to clear
the way — all this was his uniform : the merchant
in black velvet or in brown silk showed the
richly laced ruffles at his wrists, and the rich
lace at his throat, with gold buckles and a gold
laced hat — it was his uniform : the respectable
tradesman walked abroad in white silk stockings
with silver buckles and good broad cloth — it
was his uniform : the servants wore liveries :
the mechanics, the shopmen, the apprentices
all wore aprons : the sailor wore his petticoats.
Everybody, in short, proclaimed in some way or
other by his appearance the nature of his
calling : and everybody enjoyed in this way
such dignity and respect as belonged to his
calling. How did the poet appear ? He was
to be seen every day and all day long : he
haunted the coffee-houses, the eating-houses,
and the taverns of Fleet Street and its neigh-
bourhood. Alone among men he had no uni-
form. Yet he could be recognised by his rags.
Everybody knew the company of wits in the
tavern : they were notoriously, horribly poor :
notoriously they had neither principles, nor
honour, nor dignity : for a guinea, it was said,

12 The Pen and the Book.

they would write satires, epigrams, anything for
or against either side or anybody. Since the
people only saw the ragged side, they supposed
that the whole army was in rags : it seemed to
them the only profession whose normal or cus-
tomary condition was one of rags. The world
saw, further, very plainly, that they had no
independence, but that they were the servants —
miserably paid — and the hacks of the book-
sellers. They were to be seen by anyone
humbly and openly craving for the advance of a
guinea : they were to be seen going round
humbly soliciting subscribers' names for a new
volume of poems. Now, the City of London
has never at any time greatly cared for poetry,
but it has always despised, without any pre-
tence, openly, heartily, and profoundly despised,
poverty : and the City judged the poet by his
outward appearance — by his manner of life.
Now, his outward appearance, as I have indi-
cated, was too often ragged : and his manner
was too often servile.

Another thing there was which largely helped
to create and to advance this contempt. It was
this. Every other profession holds itself in
honour. You never find a lawyer ridiculing
other lawyers because they are unsuccessful.
You never find an artist ridiculing another be-
cause nobody will buy his pictures. Yet the lit-
erary man has been constantly engaged in writing
enviously and savagely against his brethren.

The Life of Letters. 13

This, I think, is the very worse feature of all :
it must be owned that the second-rate unsuccess-
ful literary man of the last century was totally
devoid of generosity or of any greatness of mind
at all. Envy and jealousy consumed him : to-
wards his brethren he was simply malignant.
The mere fact that another man was also an
author, was sufficient to fill his soul with hatred
against that man. Do you know the lines of
Churchill — written about the time of which we
are speaking ?

Look thro' the world, in every other trade,
The same employment's cause of kindness made :
At least appearance of good will creates,
And every fool puffs off the fool he hates.
Cobblers with cobblers smoke away the night,
And in the common cause e'en play'rs unite ;
Authors alone, with more than common rage,
Unnatural war with brother authors wage.

Remember, however, that it was not generally
the great writers who showed this kind of malig-
nity. Johnson, for instance, was always mag-
nanimous. As for Pope, it must be confessed
that he led off in the long, cruel, and degrading
attacks of poet on poet, of author on author.
What can be more venomous, what can be more
malignant, than the Dunciad ? Smollett himself,
who had felt the bitterness of poverty and con-
tempt, goes out of his way to exhibit the weak-
nesses and the follies of his brethren. Even
Goldsmith — the genial, convivial Goldsmith,
himself had been one of the ragamuffin

14 The Pen and the Book.

company — who loved to exchange the exalted
society of the Literary Club for the tavern,
where the starveling wits assembled — even Gold-
smith .must have his fling at the beggar poet.

There in a lonely room, from bailiffs snug,
The Muse found Scroggen stretched beneath a rug :
A window, patched with paper, lent a ray,
That dimly showed the state in which he lay.

The room was cold : he views with keen desire

The rusty grate unconscious of a fire ;

With beer and milk arrears the frieze was scored,

And five cracked teacups dress'd the chimney board :

A nightcap deck'd his brow, instead of bay,

A cap by night — a stocking all the day.

And there was yet one more unfortunate cir-
cumstance which helped to keep literature in
contempt : its total neglect by the court of the
eighteenth century. Many of the aristocracy
were noble patrons of literature : never, the
court : the pension given to Dr. Johnson is, I
believe, the single solitary instance of the kind
in the reign of George the Third. Let us
understand this point, which, to my mind, is
very important. No acceptance of title or rank
can affect the literary position of a writer in the
least degree. As a poet, Tennyson remained
plain Tennyson after he became a peer. But
the distinction taught the people, as nothing
else could teach them, that the highest honour a
nation can bestow upon a great poet should be
given to him in order to mark the honour and

The Life of Letters. 15

respect and affection that the nation entertains
towards him : and — which is another thing still
— the people were taught by this simple example
that literature is a thing which is to be held in
the highest honour, and a thing to be recognised
in the highest manner possible. What do you
suppose would be the natural result upon the
minds of people not given to reflection so much
as to observation if none of the national dis-
tinctions were bestowed upon the navy ? Should
we not expect to find the navy falling rapidly
into disrepute ? This is exactly what has hap-
pened with literature. The nation might respect,
of its own free will, the individual poet, but it
has been taught, officially and designedly, that
the calling of the poet is contemptible.

Another circumstance which has greatly in-
jured the calling of letters, is the feeling that
literature ought not to be even remotely con-
nected with money : that a poet should present
his verse to the world, but it is beneath the
dignity of an author to speak of money. How
did this false and foolish prejudice arise ? There
has never been any poet or any author who has
in reality been unwilling to take all the money
his works would bring in. What was not be-
neath the dignity of Dryden, Pope, Johnson,
Goldsmith, Byron, Thackeray, Dickens, need
not surely be beneath the dignity of ourselves.
But the author must not write for money.
Well, he always has written for money and he

16 The Pen and the Book.

always will. Let me, however, once more beg
you to keep quite separate in your minds the
commercial and the literary worth of a book.
And let me remind you that a poet or an author
of any kind cannot write at all — cannot at least
write anything worth having, if he is not en-
tirely absorbed in his work, and careless while
he is engaged upon it, as to any other consider-
ation at all. Once the work done, he has
created a literary property of greater or less
value. He is free to deal with it then as he
thinks best. Why should he not? No one
objects to the painter getting what price he can
for his picture : no one talks with contempt of
the painter working for money. No one objects
to the lawyer taking money : or the physician :
or any other conceivable intellectual or artistic
workman. Why then must it be thrown in the
teeth of the writer that he writes for money ?
To this point I shall return later on. I only
note it here, because this prejudice has worked
such mischief to those who lead the life of letters.
It has now become a foolish common-place
lingering still among those literary men whose
work cannot be considered a property. They
would fain console themselves with the reflection
that it is beneath the dignity of poets to expect
money.

Remembering these things, therefore, we may
understand how the popular idea of literature
arose : it was a beggarly profession : there was

The Life of Letters. 1 7

no money in it : there was no dignity in it : and
it was not respectable. These considerations
are sufficient to show us, I think, how that
popular estimate of the profession arose, and
how it sank deep into the heart of the people.
They saw the miseries : they did not see the
glories. Rags and poverty are easily discern-
ible : the quiet dignity of Johnson : of Gray :
of Cowper : of Fielding : they could neither see,
nor could they understand.

Therefore, I say, it was a beggarly profession,
and so it continues to this day, with some modi-
fications, in the mind of the people.

What naturally followed ? This, as we might
have expected. The contempt of the people for
the starving poets and for the wretched pro-
fession of literature extended to literature itself.
During the last century, in spite of frequent and
destructive wars, the trade and wealth of this
country advanced by leaps and bounds. At the
close of the century its trade and wealth had
reached a point never before approached. But
there can be no doubt that the general or aver-
age culture of the citizens had decreased rather
than advanced. Everything tends to prove
that the aldermen and rich merchants of London
— a hundred years ago — were as ignorant of
English literature as they were of the interior of
Australia : they had no knowledge at all of
English letters : their wives had none : their
daughters had none. They possessed a few

18 The Pen and the Book.

books, which were never increased in number.
For literature and the producers of literature
they entertained the most profound contempt.
In their contempt they were backed by the
court, which was hopelessly indifferent to
letters : by the aristocracy and county gentry,
who were what Matthew Arnold calls " bar-
barians : " that is to say, they had their sport,
their races, their gambling, their drinking, and
the other virtues and vices which made up their
lives ; but there was no part in their lives for
a book, or the author of a book. I declare,
without fear of contradiction, that the vast
majority of the English people, including prac-
tically the whole of the City of London, main-
tained at that time — one hundred years ago — a
deep and honest contempt for literature.

This was a most unfortunate thing for the
national character. The people, Avho should be
continually instructed that fine literature is the
greatest achievement of a nation next to its
good laws and good government, were carefully
taught by the contempt of Court, nobility, and
the wealthier class, that literature was not a
thing to be considered at all : it was the play-
thing of a few : the pretence at work made by
men too lazy to do anything else. I do believe
that had things been different in this respect —
had our people enlarged their mental as they
enlarged their material bounds — most of the
miseries and the disasters and the stupidities

The Life of Letters. 19

of the last hundred years would have been
avoided. It is the function of literature to
be always dispersing clouds that are always
gathering : and it is a most certain law of
humanity that it will infallibly sink lower if it is
not continually lifted higher. We require the
same lessons in every generation : we require
the same lessons in right and wrong : in justice
and in equity : in right thinking and in right
doing : and it is the noblest function of the
author, whether as preacher, teacher, poet, his-
torian, novelist, dramatist, essayist, to keep us
from thinking wrongly. A hundred years ago,
if there were prophets in the land, their voice
was local : the mass of the people looked for no
prophet : they despised the prophetic calling. I
think we can discern the evil effects of this con-
tempt in every act of the time : especially in
the stupidity which prompted the prosecutions
of the early Radicals : in the treatment of social
and trade questions : in the treatment of the
poor: in the treatment of the criminal. Can
we suppose for one moment that if Carlyle had
been preaching in 1790 : if among that deaf and
prejudiced mass his voice could have gained a
hearing : can we, I say, suppose that the stupid-
ities which followed would have been possible ?
If at this day we are somewhat awakened to
better things — if our minds are enlarged — if
there is a readier and a wider sense of justice
among us — it is because prophets have spoken,

20 The Pen and the Book.

and because we have ceased to despise the voice
of prophecy.

Let us turn, next, to consider the present con-
ditions of the literary life. To begin with, the
old contempt for the calling has been somewhat
modified. It is understood nearly everywhere
that the life of the author may be respectable,
may be honourable, may be even — though this
is not so generally known — lucrative. The pro-
fession of letters has been added to the other
professions. Formerly, as you know, the noble,
or learned, professions included Theology, Medi-
cine, and Law. To these are now added Science,
Art, Architecture, Engineering, Music, and Lit-
erature. And the new professions ought to be
held in as much respect as the old. Now, for a
profession to be classed among the noble callings
and to be held in universal respect, three main
points must be acquired : three conditions
gained. First of all, it must be independent :
i.e., the members must not be servants of any-
one : the barrister takes his work from the
solicitor, but he is not the servant of the solicitor :
next, it must be entitled to share in the national
distinctions as much as a soldier, a sailor, or a
statesman : and, thirdly, it must have in its gift
great prizes, whether of distinction, or of money,
or both. For the first time in history the pro-
fession of letters is beginning to possess these
three qualifications for respect. There has been
in existence for the last twelve years a society,

The Life of Letters. 21

very small and humble tit first, but grown now
into an association of fifteen hundred members,
Avhose simple object has been the investigation
of literary property, and its defence in the in-
terest of authors. The result has been a move-
ment which means a complete revolution in the
methods of literature, which will make authors,
for the first time in history, the masters and ad-
ministrators of their own property. So that the
first requisite of a great profession is at last
beginning to be achieved : literature is growing
independent. As to the national distinctions,
there seems every reason to believe that they
will in course of time be thrown open to the
man of letters as well as to the soldier and the
lawyer. Tennyson received a peerage : so did
Bulwer Lytton : Dickens was offered a baron-
etcy, but refused, in which he was wrong, if only
for the reason, already alleged, of the lesson it
would have afforded to the people. Carlyle was
offered a Gr.C.B., with a pension. His refusal
also was, from my point of view, a great mistake.
He should have taken it, not because it would
have given him any additional distinction, but
because it would have made the people under- '
stand clearly that literature such as Carlyle
produced was deserving of the very highest
distinctions in the gift of the Sovereign. ,

There remains the third condition — that of
great prizes. I propose, in another place, to
dwell upon the commercial side of literature. I

22 The Pen and the Book.

have already most earnestly desired you to keep
that side quite separate in your own minds. I
will only therefore add that the value of the
commercial side has made enormous strides dur-
ing the past five or six years, owing mainly to
the action of one Society, and the light which it
has thrown upon the meaning of literary pro-
perty. Formerly — say sixty years ago — there
were three or four only, popular writers, who
made respectable incomes by their books : there
are now writers by the score in every branch of
literature, who draw from their work substantial
prizes, and can live, to use the common phrase,
" like gentlemen."

The calling of letters, then, now belongs to
the nobler professions. This is a great point
gained. It may be objected that there were al-
ways great prizes in honour, if not in money, to
be won. That is true : but a hundred years ago
the great prizes were few : and there was noth-
ing outside the great prizes : you either greatly
succeeded or you wholly failed. There was no
gentle gradation : no incline : no connecting
ladder between failure and success, as in other
professions. For instance, in the law the
greatest and most splended prize is the woolsack:
but next to the woolsack are the judges, and
next to the judges other great officers of the
law, and next to these come the Queen's Coun-
sel, and then the barristers of smaller practice.
So that the whole profession is like a regular

The Life of Letters. 23

pyramid of easy incline with the woolsack on
the top. In literature, until recently, there was
no such incline. That incline, however, is now
furnished — and by journalism. The beginner in
the life of letters now attempts to scale the fort
by means of journalism. This gives him the
means of livelihood : sometimes much more than
the mere livelihood : very often it claims his
whole life, and gives him the successful career
which he hoped at first to make in other ways.
It is, indeed, impossible to over-estimate the
assistance which journalism has rendered to the
profession of letters.

We all know the history of Chatterton : what
would be the history of a Chatterton of the pre-
sent day ? I will tell it, taking a living example,
from my own knowledge. As a boy he was
bookish : he devoured all the books he could lay
hands upon ; he borrowed and read : at school
he was easily first : at home he locked himself
up and secretly wrote poetry : already he had
joined the fraternity of those who write. When
he left school, at Avhich he had learned shorthand,
he was placed in a newspaper office. Here he
reported meetings and lectures and police cases :
he picked up news ; he shaped the paragraph :
he made himself generally useful : presently he
began to write descriptive papers : he reviewed
books : all this time he was giving his leisure
hours — which were not too many — to the culti-
vation of literature. And at last he brought

24 The Pen and the Book.

out his first work — a volume of poems perhaps :
or a volume of fiction or a volume of essays—
with the help of which he introduced himself.
His name now began to appear in magazines,
and more and more frequently — yet he remained
on his newspaper : he was not in the least dan-
ger of starving : he was, on the contrary, well
fed and fairly prosperous. But he drifted more
and more into authorship. He has now become
well known as a writer. If he is wise he will
continue to write for the papers as well as the
magazines. Perhaps at last the day will come
when he will be fully justified in trusting to him-
self, and can give up the newspaper work. But
he will never quite give up his connection with
journalism. Very likely he will be appointed
editor of some magazine : he may be invited to
advise on some great publishing firm : he may
be appointed literary editor of a great morning
paper. That would be the modern career of a
new (Jhatterton.

Let us consider next what is the kind of life
led daily by the modern man of letters — not a
great genius, not a popular author : but a good
steady man of letters of the kind which formerly
had to inhabit the garrets of Grub Street. This
man, of whom there are many — or this woman,
for many women now belong to the profession —
goes into his study every morning as regularly
as a barrister goes to chambers : he finds on his
desk two or three books waiting for review : a

The Life of Letters. 25

MS. sent him for an opinion : a book of his own
to go on with — possibly a life of some dead and
gone worthy for a series : an article which he
has promised for a magazine : a paper for the
Dictionary of National Biography : perhaps an
unfinished novel to which he must give three
hours of absorbed attention. This goes on, day
after day, all the year round. There is never
any fear of the work failing as soon as the writer
has made himself known as a trustworthy and an
attentive workman. The literary man has his
club : he makes an income by his labour which
enables him to live in comfort, and to educate
his children properly. Now, this man a hundred
years ago would have been — Avhat you have seen
— an object of contempt for his poverty and
helplessness : the cause of contempt for Litera-
ture itself.

Let me warn young people against giving up
their line of life — humble perhaps, but safe — in
order to attempt the literary life, for which they
do not possess the necessary qualifications. What
those qualifications are we will presently inquire.
Without them the writer must be content to
take the lowest place : to do the humblest jobs :
to count himself happy if he can find a post as
compiler of indexes or corrector of proofs ; to
a life of dependence which in itself need not be
a bad thing ; and of humiliation and of failure.
The old miseries are mostly gone, but there are
many bitter disillusions in the present day : and

26 The Pen and the Booh.

I think that for the young writer, just in propor-
tion to the glow and glory of his hopes, so is the
agony and shame of disappointments and failure.
If the way through the Gate of Honour seems
open : if the heart of the aspirant beats quick
and fast at beholding it afar off, think how his
heart will fall when he finds that after all it is
the Gate of Humility, not the Gate of Honour
that is open to him.

I have shown the average life of the average
man of letters — a quiet, industrious, rather ob-
scure life. Let us consider what it means to be
a successful man of letters. I have on several
occasions spoken of this from the special know-
ledge which I have been enabled to obtain. I
find that I am generally charged with exaggera-
tion : you will see immediately of what kind.
It is, I know, the defect of the novelist that he
is prone to exaggeration. I will do my very
best not to exaggerate, and with this laudable
object I have submitted my figures to a friend
who never wrote a novel : never overstated a
case : and never made Tip a story in his life. He
knows the condition of things as well as I do
myself, and has had the same opportunities of
learning them. His remark to me was this :
" You are perfectly justified in the figures that
you give, and in the inferences which you draw."

The figures are concerned, first of all, with
the population of the country, and next with the
education of the country.

The Life of Letters. 27

Come back with me once more to the year
1750. The population of the three kingdoms
was then ten millions. Of these by far the
greater part were engaged in agricultural
labour. Speaking generally, none of the work-
ing classes could read at all. This removes
eight millions out of the ten. There remain
two millions to represent the class which could
read. But how many of these inquired for the
new books? None of the country gentry:
very few indeed of the reading class : allowing
for literary sets and circles, for scholars and
students at the universities, for lawyers, and for
the clergy, I cannot possibly allow more than
30,000 as possible readers or inquirers after new
books. Only thirty thousand ! The new books
of the day were issued to this very small and
very critical audience of thirty thousand !

Pass over eighty years : let us ask what were
the conditions of the book market in 1830. The
population was now twenty-four millions : but
the thirst for literature had not increased in like
proportion, save that women had now begun to
read. Making all deductions, I estimate that
there were in this country not more than 50,000
persons interested in new kooks. Remember,
that there was in 1830 hardly any communication
with America : that Australia and New Zealand
did not exist : that there was no book trade with
India : and that the other colonies had not as
yet developed any intellectual side to speak of.

28 The Pen and the Book.

That was sixty-five years ago. The writers of
the day could not hope for an audience of more
than 50,000 : not that so many would, or could,
buy them, but there were so many readers at
the outside.

Now, if you please, we will turn to the present
day.

We saw that, both in 1750 and in 1880, the
market of English books was bounded by the
seas that encircle these islands. We also saw
that, in 1750, the number of persons interested
in literature was about 30,000, and in 1830 it
was about 50,000. What is the area now open
to that market ? Well : we have, first, the
British Isles, where there are now forty millions
of people : next, the colonies — Canada, Aus-
tralia, South Africa, India, New Zealand, the
settlements of the Far West, the West India
Islands. In Canada there are six millions, at
least one quarter of them persons of some culti-
vation and much reading. In India there are,
besides the English merchants and planters, and
the Government servants and the army, a large
number of educated natives who read English
books — say, one million altogether. In Aus-
tralia there are four-and-a-half millions : in
New Zealand one million : in South Africa,
which is growing rapidly, there are about two
millions : in the smaller islands and colonies
there are probably altogether another two mil-
lions more, though more than three-fourths are

The Life of Letters. 29

negroes, Indian coolies or Chinamen. This rep-
resents a possible — I say, possible, not actual —
reading area of fifty-six millions. But the
American International Copyright Act opens to
us the whole of their market as well. In a
word, there is waiting at this moment for the
author who achieves the task of catching the
universal ear, a possible audience of one-hun-
dred-and-twenty millions of people, who can all,
at least, read ! Think ! One-hundred-and-
twenty millions of possible readers at the present
day, against 50,000 in the year 1830 — only
sixty years ago ! Such an audience the world
has never before witnessed : and it is growing,
growing every day : it grows by the natural in-
crease of population : it grows far faster by the
spread of education and by the rapid develop-
ment of new countries. Take the development
of new countries — sixty years ago there was no
Chicago at all : now there is a city with two
million inhabitants, of whom one half are
decently educated and read books, and quite one
hundred thousand are interested in new litera-
ture. Sixty years ago there was practically no
Australia ; now there are all these people, of
whom more than half are decently educated and
read books. Again, every year the schools
throw upon the world children by the hundred
thousand, all taught to read, and trained to de-
sire reading. Sixty years ago there were no
free libraries. Now there are in America, and

30 The Pen and the Book.

this country and the colonies, about 6000 — great
and small. Sixty years ago there was a tax of
4d. on every newspaper — think of that ! There
was a tax of 3s. 6d. on every advertisement ;
and there was a tax of 3d. a Ib. on the paper —
how could the people be got at with such bars
to knowledge ? In one word, reading, which
has always been the amusement of the cultivated
class, has now become the principal amusement
of every class : all along the line from peer to
chimney sweep we are reading. Some of us are
said to be reading rubbish. That may be : but
it is certainly less mischievous to be reading
rubbish than to be drinking at bars or playing
with street rowdies. The great point for us, at
the present moment, to observe is that the whole
civilised world has acquired a taste for reading :
and that it has become for all classes the uni-
versal and the favourite amusement.

We have set down a popular writer's possible
audience, at the present day, at the enormous
total of 120 millions. We know, however, that
no single writer could ever command an audience
of the whole. What, then, is the real audience
of a very popular writer ? It may fairly be
assumed that out of the 120 millions of possible
readers there are certain authors — as Scott,
Marryat, Dickens — who are read by at least the
tenth part. The mere thought of such an
audience takes away the breath. A tenth part :
that is, nearly twelve millions of living people —

The Life of Letters. 31

not to count the millions of dead people — have
read these writers ! Truly, there has never be-
fore in the history of the world been so great an
audience for a poet or story teller ; formerly the
poet consoled himself, remembering his very
narrow audience, with the thought that he would
not die, but live : he looked forward through a
telescope, and saw in imagination the generations
in endless succession hanging on his words : the
popular and successful writer of the day may
look round him with a telescope and see — as far
as any telescope can reach — a boundless ocean
of faces, eager faces, listening faces, faces played
upon by emotions awakened by his own words.
That is the main difference between the man of
letters of 1750 — or him of 1830 — and the man
of letters of the present day. So great — of such
importance — is the enormous revolution that has
been brought about during the last fifty years :
that while an English writer formerly addressed
a little body of educated people among a vast
mass of illiterates, he now has the chance of
addressing half the civilised world at once.
Well, but — you will say again — a man who
appeals to everybody who speaks his language
is indeed rare : how many can an ordinary
writer address ? Well, let us take a novelist of
respectable — if not of the highest — rank. His
work comes out first, say, in the Illustrated Lon-
don News : at the same time, in an American
illustrated paper and in an Australian illus-

32 The Pen and the Book.

trated paper. This mean a circulation, to begin
with, of something like 250,000 copies a week.
How many readers will you give to each num-
ber ? Remember that every copy of the Illus-
trated that goes into a house is read by all that
household, and is lent to other houses : or it lies
on the public library table : or it goes to a club :
or it goes to a hotel or a tavern. I think we
may very fairly, and without exaggeration,
reckon at least twenty readers for every num-
ber : that gives us 5,000,000 readers. The
work is then published as a volume ; copies
are bought and placed on the shelves : they are
read and lent : they go to the libraries, where
they are read till they drop to pieces, when they
are replaced. Reckoning all these different ap-
pearances, we may calculate — moderately — that
a fairly popular novel will, in twenty years, go
through 30,000 copies : not in one year, or in
two : but in twenty years. We may assign
500 readers to each copy : we assume, therefore,
15,000,000 readers of the volume, which, with
those who read the novel in serial form, makes
about 20,000,000 readers in all. I beg you to
consider these figures. You may apply them to
any popular writer of the day you please : and
I think you will agree with me that a circulation
so widespread has never before been even ap-
proached in any country, or even dreamed of.
And more — this is only a beginning. In fifty
years time, unless some check — some overwhelm-

The Life of Letters. 33

ing national disaster — happens to this country,
or the United States, or to our colonies, the
population of the English-speaking race will be
more than doubled. There will be at least two
hundred-and-fifty millions — all of them, on an
average, far better educated than at the present
moment, and all readers of books. Imagine,
more or less, if you can, the position of a writer
who has won the heart of only a tenth part of
those people ! Imagine his power for good or
for evil ! Think of the overwhelming admira-
tion and respect which he will possess. No
prince ever had such power : no statesman ever
commanded such influence : as will be possessed
by that most fortunate of men, the popular poet,
dramatist, novelist, of the future.

You have seen something of the Literary Life in
the past and of that in the present. You can guess
by what has gone before what will be my forecast
of the Literary Life in the future. It is this :

There will be in every country forming part
of the English-speaking nations a local literature
of its own : that is to say, a literature in matters
historical, educational, ecclesiastical, topographi-
cal, and local from every point of view : there
will be writers of fiction, poetry, drama, who
will have a local name and local fame only : who
will be unable to pass beyond the boundaries of
their country : who will, in fact, write for that
country and for nothing else. There will, how-
ever, arise another and an independent literature

34 The Pen and the Book.

which shall be English : not, that is, belonging
to the little country of England, but called
English because written in that language. In
other words, there will be a locally human litera-
ture and a universally human literature. The
latter part will appeal to all alike who speak
and write our language, and the man who
succeeds in contributing to that which is human
will be the fortunate, the distinguished, the
enviable author of whom we have just spoken.

Again, while all other professions will in the
immediate future suffer loss in many ways from
the competition — the crowding into them, for in-
stance, of the poor lads from the Polytechnics,
no such competition can lower, or injure in any
way the profession of letters as regards its
highest achievements. For, however many may
try, the really great prizes can never be awarded
but by the universal suffrage. For a man to be
read by the whole of the English-speaking
world, he must move the hearts of all that world.
It may be objected that the great mass of
readers will prefer the baser literature to the
nobler. I do not think it conceivably possible
that any writer of the lower class should become
popular outside his own country. I have looked
in vain, for instance, on the American bookstalls
for the bad writers of this country. On the
other hand, it is quite clear, as can be learned
from the returns of the public libraries, that in
the long run the taste of the people is sound and

The Life of Letters. 35

wholesome. So long as they read Scott, and
Macaulay, and Dickens, and Marryatt, one may
trust the taste of the people. A bad writer may
win an audience for awhile, but he cannot keep
his hold. For my own part, I can remember no
single instance, in literary history, of the sur-
vival of a bad writer. Let me, in this place,
add one word of caution. I have spoken of this
vast circle of readers. Remember, please, that I
do not say — buyers. As things are at present,
so must they always be : we may enlarge the
circle of readers till it includes every man,
woman, and child in the English-speaking world :
but we cannot at the same time enlarge their in-
comes. If we suppose that a man buys two
books a week — not novels only — and that the
average cost of these books is 2s. each, that would
mean an expenditure of over 10Z. a year in
books. Now there are not many incomes — and
there never will be — that can stand the expendi-
ture of over 107. a year in books, which are not
necessaries, such as lodging and food. While, in
fact, the readers multiply by the hundredfold,
there will be a tendency for the number of
buyers to contract in proportion, simply because
the incomes will not increase with the demand
for literature, and they cannot afford to buy all
they want. There will be always a few who
can afford to buy books, and will buy books, but
for the mass of the world the free library will
always afford a continuous and an inexhaustible

36 The Pen and the Book.

supply of reading. I offer this warning so that
you may not think that we are considering, or
taking into account the wealth which in the
future may flow into the coffers of the successful
author. That will, no doubt, be very consider-
able. But in this place I desire to consider
nothing but the extension of his influence, his
authority, and his respect. I hope that these
words, and the chapters which follow, will not
induce any young man hastily to abandon his
present employment, in order to embark upon
the profession of letters. The old miseries are
gone, it is true : but there are many broken
hearts, many cruel disappointments, many bitter
disillusions even in the present day.

The Literary Life may be, I am firmly con-
vinced, in spite of many dangers and drawbacks,
by far the happiest life that the Lord has per-
mitted mortal man to enjoy. I say this with
the greatest confidence, and after considering the
history of all those literary men — living and
dead — whom I have known and of whom I have
read. It may be by far the happiest life attain-
able. But I admit that without a reasonable
measure of success it must be a disappointed and
a miserable life. That reasonable measure of
success is an essential. Therefore, I repeat, I
should be very sorry indeed if, by any words of
mine, any young man should be persuaded to ex-
change his certain work, whatever it is, for an
uncertain plunge into literature.

The Life of Letters. 37

To those few, however, who think they pos-
sess the necessary qualifications ; to those who
feel really impelled to join the ranks of literature;
I would say "Come. Venture, if you will,
where so many have failed. There is always
room for good work — Come. I have shown
how the followers of literature fare : some fare
better and some worse than I have described.
Come, if you can : come, if you dare. Don't
think of making money — there are a thousand
chances to one against it : but if you gain that
reasonable measure of success of which I have
spoken, you may confidently look forward to
leading a happy and a well filled life : you may
influence your generation for good : your mind
will be always pleasantly occupied : you will
find the company good : the talk extremely
cheerful : and the work always interesting."

BOOK I.
CHAPTER I. — PREPARATION.

THE foregoing contains general considerations.
Let us turn to the special object of this work.
It is to examine into the practical details of the
profession of Literature : to ascertain some of
the qualifications necessary for success : to indi-
cate some of the dangers and pitfalls which lie
in the way : to lay down, in general terms, the
preparation which may be most useful to the
aspirant : to show the kind of livelihood which
may be earned in the profession of literature, as
in those of medicine or law : and to warn the
reader against the tricks and subterfuges by
which crafty persons are always endeavouring
to acquire the control of literary property for
their own ends : to instruct him how to defeat
these tricks : and to explain what literary prop-
erty really means hi the eyes of the law.

I desire that this book may reach the hands
of all those young people — they number thou-

The General Terms. 39

sands — who are now gazing with longing eyes
upon a Land that seems full of Promise — the
Literary Land. I hope that the information
which they will find here will either strengthen
their resolution to go on, or will cause them to
turn back while there is yet time. Let it be
remembered — it cannot be too often repeated —
that there is no disappointment more bitter,
harder to bear, than failure, when one has at-
tempted the Career of Letters. On the other
hand, there is no happiness so great as success.

What then do we mean by the Literary Life ?
It is a life of study : a life of imagination : a
life of meditation : a life of observation : or a
life of research : in every case accompanied by,
and carried on for, the production of Literature.

In desiring the Literary Life everyone, per-
haps unconsciously, proposes brotherhood with
the illustrious company of those who are, or
have been, the leaders. Surely it is worth while
to engage upon a work where there are such
noble fellow workers in a spirit of seriousness.
A more practical reason is that unless the work
is attempted seriously the result will be failure.
That is quite certain. Failure. The popular
idea is that poems, plays, essays, romances,
stories, are the gifts of Fortune, and come by
Chance without any effort on the part of the
writer. That is a common belief and a common
error. Put it away from you at the outset.
Prepare for serious work. Make up your mind

40 The Pen and the Book.

that you cannot give to the work too careful
preparation : too serious consideration : that
you cannot correct your work too jealously :
that you must be prepared to write and to re-
write, if necessary, with patience, until you have
produced your effect. Above all things, there-
fore, mistrust the work that has been "thrown
off : " put away in a drawer all work that is
done " at a dash : " prepare to rewrite, or per-
haps to destroy all the work executed under
conditions of rapidity and the " white heat " or
the " red glow " or the " fine ardour " of literary
composition. The white heat is good for the
first rough sketch : it is seldom, however, good
for much more.

What follows then, is written in the belief
that I am addressing those who take the matter
seriously ; so seriously that they will be ready
to give to their work all they have : all their
heart : all their strength : all their soul.

Then, if they fail, they will fail with hpnour.
And they will be rewarded by the acquisition
of culture : by fulness of knowledge : by literary
taste : by acquired power of observation : and
by breadth of view.

The first qualification necessary in every
branch of the literary calling is a mind stored
with knowledge : this can only be obtained by
wide reading : the first duty of the young writer
is to read : nay, the first sign of his fitness for
the work is a love of reading. If we consider

The General Terms. 41

every recorded case of the boyhood of great
writers, we shall find that as a boy the writer
was an omnivorous reader : he read every book
that his home contained, and borrowed all the
books he could get at, sometimes for miles
round : he became, in the course of his reading,
a rapid reader — all omnivorous readers are rapid :
his taste for reading was Catholic : he read
every kind of book : his mind was retentive : his
memory was strong : he had the gift of being
able to dismiss from his mind the non-essential
parts of what he read. Some writers betray
their reading by continual reference to books
and quotation : a better way is to show it by
that wealth and fulness which can only come by
wide reading.

1 should advise the young reader not to ask
himself too anxiously what books are best for
him. He may read all. But there should be
preferences. For instance, if he have access to
a library let him eschew for the moment the
modern novel while he makes himself master of
the great works in English literature. It is
absolutely necessary : it is indispensable, that
he should read and know Shakespeare, Milton,
Dryden, Pope, Addison, Fielding, Smollett,
Johnson, Cowper, Wordsworth, Keats, Byron,
Coleridge, Charles Lamb, Scott, Dickens,
Thackeray, Tennyson, Browning, Swinburne,
and a great many others, here omitted. As for
contemporary work, he must read some, if only

42 The Pen and the Book.

in order to catch the manner of his own gener-
ation, but he should be careful not to read a
book simply because it is for the moment talked
about. A better way would be to neglect, for
the day, the book of the day — and to read it, if
it survives so long — to-morrow.

Translations again, must not be neglected.
Rabelais, for those who have sympathy with the
allegorical method : Voltaire : Goethe's Faust :
Don Quixote : Dante : Victor Hugo : Tolstoy :
and a few others who may be added from time
to time. This array of reading is formidable to
look at : but a young man, even if he does not
begin until twenty one, would iquickly and easily
get through it. Besides, most young men at
twenty one, have already read a great deal of
this Corpus of Literature. And it must be ac-
knowledged that a young writer who has read
all these authors is already, so far, well equipped.

In this list of books I have not included any
of the Greek and Latin classics. I suppose that
most of my readers have been at school and have
there made acquaintance with the Greek poets,
as well as with the Latins. If that is not the
case, one can only say that while nothing can
ever compensate for the loss of Latin and Greek,
it would be well to read translations of some
parts at least of the classical writers. It would
seem, indeed, as if the classical "mill" is not
absolutely necessary. Keats, for instance, knew
nothing of Greek poetry in the original.

The General Terms. 43

The second consideration, that which follows
the question of reading ; is the art of arrange-
ment. That is to say, the student of English
composition must aim at presenting, in their
most effective form, the arguments, facts, illus-
trations, quotations or opinions which the writer
desires to use for his purpose. By the most
effective form I mean the most convincing, the
most persuasive, and the most pleasing manner.
Unless the writer can arrive at this art, either
by comparison and observation or by the study
of books, he is lost : he has no chance whatever
of a hearing. It is impossible to over-rate the
importance of this difficulty. The writer has a
thing to say : a thesis to maintain : a story to
tell : how is he to present it ?

I know a case in which a young man, now a
well-known writer, derived the greatest benefit,
at7the very beginning of his career, from attend-
ing a short course of logic and another of rhe-
toric. The former taught him how to analyse an
argument : it cleared up his mind and showed
him where to look for the weak point, and how
to test the strong point, of a proposition. The
latter was still more useful, for it taught him the
utility of rules in composition : and of exercise
in composition : the difference between address-
ing the understanding and addressing the feel-
ings : the value of style : in a word, how to
arrange and to set forth his arguments with the
view of producing the greatest possible effect.

44 The Pen and the Book.

It is not often that a young man has the chance
of attending a course of rhetoric : I do not
think it is possible to find such a thing at this
moment in the whole of London. But books are
always accessible. If I recommend the reader
to study carefully Whately's Rhetoric it is be-
cause the book was in use in my time. It is
probably long since superseded, in which case
the later book will probably be the more con-
venient. At the same time there is a mass of
information and of suggestion in Whately which
cannot but prove helpful to the student.

There was formerly a good old rule by which
boys in writing themes or essays, had to divide
them into certain heads. There were ( 1 ) Preface :
(2) Reason: (3) Argument: (4) Simile: (5)
Quotation: (6) Metaphor: (7) Confirmation:
(8) Conclusion. This was a rough and ready
method "of teaching arrangement, but it was
effective as far as it went, and I commend a con-
sideration of it to a beginner. I do not think
that boys made to write under such conditions
would often in after life fall into the sin of con-
fusion. To this day, when I hear a speech, or
read a paper, in which the arguments are ad-
vanced loosely, in the wrong place, overlapping
each other, I say to myself " Dear Sir, where is
your Argument? What have you done with
your Confirmation ? And your Reason is out
of place."

Can style be learned or taught ? Certainly

The General Terms. 45

not : style belongs to a man like his face, his
figure, or his voice. It is his own individual
attribute. It cannot be taught or learned. But
it may be cultivated. I have sometimes seen a
recommendation to read Louis Stevenson or
Walter Pater. The reason for studying the
style of another man is to acquire, not his style,
but the sense that style is a part of literature.
I would rather recommend Addison, Pope and
Goldsmith. Style without " preciosity " ; natu-
ral style : fitness of phrase : clearness and
" nettete " : a style without mannerism : yet
wholly individual : this seems to me more likely
to be attained by the reading of Addison than
by that of Stevenson. The reading of good
pure English is certain to produce the sense of
style and the effort to write a good style. The
rest follows. But the student must not be car-
ried away. The end of literature is not style.
Style is the servant not the master : we desire
style as the vehicle not the matter : the medium
of expression must be the hunible servant of the
dominant thought.

I pass on to the next point.

It is almost indispensable that a literary man
with pretensions to culture, should possess a
knowledge of some foreign language. Not a
smattering, but the power of reading and under-
standing it as well as his own. Of course, French
is by far the most useful, because the literature
of France is far finer and fuller than those of all

46 The Pen and the Book.

the other continental nations put together. It
may, however, be useful for special purposes to
study other languages, as German, Italian, Nor-
wegian— but French must come first. The
importance of French to a man of letters consists
not only in the beauty and fulness of its litera-
ture, but in the clearness and precision of the
best French writers : the style, in which there is
never a word too much, and never a word in the
wrong place : the construction, which is generally
admirable : the broad views of the best French
writers : their freedom from the cant into which
our own writers are sometimes prone to fall : and
from the sentimentality from which the French
hardness keeps their writers free. The influence
of French Literature on every branch of our
own is most marked. In his essays, for instance,
Louis Stevenson recalls Montaigne at every line:
in fiction, one need only repeat the fact without
proving it on living writers : in verse there are
living poets among us who seem to write always
with their French models lying open before
them.

The next point for the attention of the young
writer is the cultivation of himself. All that
belongs to cultivation belongs to Literature.
Poetry and Fiction are Fine Arts as much as
Painting and Sculpture. One cannot bring to
any Fine Art too much general culture — too
much outside culture. Even in Science the
man of culture will treat his subject far more

The General Terms. 47

attractively, and therefore more convincingly,
than the man who has attended exclusively to
his own branch of Science. Let the young
writer find time for the study of Painting : of
Music : of Statuary : it will help him only to
feel that the painter, the composer, the sculptor
are trying, like himself, to express their thought,
each in his own medium : one with oils on a
canvas : one in marble : one with musical notes.
I would not have my student aim at becoming
an Art Critic : or talk the Art jargon of the
day, which changes from year to year — that is
another thing : but I would have him study Art,
so as to understand its history ; to have a feel-
ing for the artistic work of every age : to be
able to discern the connection between the inten-
tion and the achievement. If he can do this he
will connect himself with the mind of the small
but highly important section of humanity which
lives for Art and has lived for Art for the last
five hundred years.

The study of Art in any branch or in all its
branches, will also prove useful in other ways.
It fills the mind with the love of Beauty : it
enables the student to transfer the sense of
Beauty to his own pages : it purifies and ele-
vates his taste : it tends to make him as careful
of phrase and word as the painter is careful of
light and shade: of curve and colour. And,
since everything that may be said of Art may
also be said of Literature and vice versa, this

48 The Pen and the Booh.

study enables a young man to frame for himself
canons of criticism and to establish for himself
standards of excellence.

The writer's standard, thus formed, will be
practical, because he will understand the diffi-
culties and the limitations : he will be more
lenient than the ordinary critic who recognizes
nothing but the results : he will also be more
severe because he will understand the process.

It is most necessary that the young writer
should very early arrive at a high standard —
higher than he can at first hope to reach : it is
most important that he should judge himself by
canons of criticism more severe than he would
willingly apply to others.

When I think of the slipshod work : the ill-
arranged work : the bad construction : the
creeping style ; which those who have to read
MSS. constantly meet, I am constrained to urge
with the utmost force these suggestions as to the
formation of standards and canons of criticism
capable of being applied by the writer to his
own work.

Meanwhile, let us suppose that he has begun
to work. For one may, and should, begin to
work while he is pursuing his studies.

As a first rule, I advise the student to write
something every day.

This rule does not mean that he should write
in order to acquire facility of writing. Mere
facility is nothing : it is the most common of all

The General Terms. 49

gifts : any school girl of fifteen may have it.
Indeed, it is a dangerous and a suspicious gift.
The writer who has facility of the pen finds
that his pen is his master : it runs away with
him : it will not stick to the subject : in other
words the writer's brain is not under his control.
The rule to write something every day means a
daily effort, not to write fast, but to master and
subdue the brain. Its main object is to meet
the danger of facility. For I want the student
to write " Something " : that is, something defi-
nite : an essay in which a certain thesis has to
be advanced and maintained : a sketch of char-
acter, in which a portrait has to be painted in a
few strokes : a description in which everything
external has to be excluded : in a word, one
thing, and one thing only, has to be set down.
The young man of the facile pen will find it
running along the lines talking of this and of
that, but not of the thing in hand. He will
have to reduce that pen — which is his own
brain — to obedience ; or there is no hope for
him. In other words, he must learn to think
clearly and to regard a subject with concentra-
tion : next he must bring to his writing the
clearness and concentration of his thought.

This mastery over the pen is really a point of
the highest importance : it means nothing less
than the power of making the brain obey. The
untrained brain wanders here and there : it for-
gets what was intended : it flies about from one

50 The Pen and the Book.

subject to another : it will not be fixed. Every-
one must remember the time in his own experi-
ence when his writing rambled and his brain
wandered. The richer the gifts of imagination
and fancy the greater is the danger on this
head. When the young writer feels his page
aglow with imagination let him be most on his
guard : the work, put away awhile, will almost
certainly prove to be that of an unordered mind.
The brain must be trained to obey, and the will
must be taught to command.

In this sketch of the general preparation for
the Literary Life I must repeat the point on
which I most insisted at the outset. I said that
the student must be prepared to take pains. Let
me put it in another way : the student must
bring to the calling the power and the will to
work : he must be patient and industrious : he
must not be daunted by early failure : he must
not be inflated by early success : " swelled head "
is a disease which is very apt to seize upon the
literary youth : he must be ready to acknow-
ledge that there is still something wanting : he
must be ready to persevere, even although he
seems successful. If after all, it is no use trying :
if he really has not the gifts necessary for suc-
cess ; he will find out the distressing truth by
the candour of his friends ; by the opinion of a
reader ; or by his own perception.

CHAPTER II.

OP THOSE WHO ENTER THE LITERARY
LIFE.

WHO are they, the modern followers of Litera-
ture ?

I have already observed that the lives of
men of letters in very many cases, show a false
start ; at the outset they have entered upon
some calling which they have afterwards aban-
doned or exchanged for the profession of letters.
Thus, Johnson began life as a schoolmaster :
Fielding was a barrister : Goldsmith, Smollett,
and Akenside were physicians : Scott was a
writer to the Signet : Coleridge was a Unitarian
preacher : Dickens was a reporter. Some men
have held posts of a kind which allowed the
following of letters — Burns, Charles Lamb,
Wordsworth, Trollope ; some again, have en-
joyed private means — Pope, Cowper, Keats,
Shelley, Byron, Thackeray, Tennyson, Brown-
ing. I speak of those only who belong to the
majority : yet of living writers almost the same

52 The Pen and the Book.

thing might be said : not, however, to so great
an extent, because a large number of living
writers have begun with journalism in one or
other of its branches : and journalism during the
last fifty years has proved a handmaid or a
ladder to literature.

The literary profession has been reproached
with this fact. It has been said that its most
successful followers are failures in other callings.
This is hardly fair, because there is no disgrace
in failing in a profession for which one has no
natural aptitude. The intellectual qualities
which are wanted for a poet are not always
those required for a lawyer.

In fact, a man intended by nature to succeed
as a writer may enter upon any profession he
pleases : it matters little what : there is no hope
for him so long as he remains outside the work
for which he has been destined. There is no
other call which is so imperative when it comes,
and so difficult to be disobeyed. At the same
time, one must not mistake an ardent yearning
after the gifts for the Divine Call.

The false start is remarkable chiefly among
those who belong to the imaginative side of
literature : to the poet, the dramatist, the
novelist. An immense amount of literature,
however, is contributed by those whose pro-
fession naturally leads to writing. The student,
the scholar, the professor, the lecturer, the
man of science ; every one of these must at

The Literary Army. 53

some time or other give the world the results of
his studies and researches in a more durable
form than that of a lecture, and in a more
popular form than that of a collection of learned
transactions. There are, again, professional
books and technical books of all kinds to be
written : the books, that is, written by lawyers
for themselves : by physicians for other phy-
sicians : by civil engineers for other engineers :
every profession must have its own books for its
own use. Schoolmasters, again, write educa-
tional books : travellers make up books from
their notes : and many men are authors of one
book only — the one book which their life and
adventures have made them competent to write.
Many of those who write books, professional
or technical, really lead the literary life first and
the professional life next. Thus, the late Sir
John Robert Seeley, was Regius Professor
in the University of Cambridge. As such he
gave courses of lectures : but if he had ever de-
scribed himself he would have called himself an
avithor by profession : all his reading and all his
thoughts from the beginning to the end of his
career were consciously directed to subjects on
which he proposed to teach the world by means
of books. Others, again, write books by a kind
of accident. Thus, a man is invited to contribute
a book for a series. There is no reason why the
series should have been started, except that the
publisher thinks he can sell it : there is again no

54 The Pen and the Book.

special reason why this man or that man should
write any one of the books : yet those who edit
the series know that such an one is a good man
of letters who knows something of the subject
and will turn out a creditable volume. That is
the reason why he is asked : there is no call
upon him to write it : the work is placed in his
hands by a kind of accident. For example, a
schoolmaster compiles an algebra or a book of
Latin exercises : there are hundreds of such
books. Why should he compile another ? Well,
for the reason that he wants to introduce some
little points of difference in the treatment : for
the reason that text books are always changing :
for the reason that a publisher invites him : for
the reason that it seems to be a crime in an educa-
tional text book, and punishable by death, to be
more than three or four years old.

There are, again, certain writers who, in num-
bers, are greater than all the rest put together.
I mean the people who do nothing else but
write ; who live by writing ; yet are not journa-
lists. A great many of those who read these
pages desire to join this noble company — mostly
of martyrs.

There are at this moment in the country
hundreds of papers and journals and magazines,
weekly and monthly, published at prices varying
from half-a-crown to a penny, the latter, of
course, vastly outnumbering the former. The
circulation of some is enormous, far beyond the

The Literary Army. 55

wildest dreams of twenty years ago : they are
the favourite reading of millions who until the
last few years never read anything : they are
the outcome of the School Board, which pours
out every year by thousands, by the hundred
thousand, boys and girls into whom they have
instilled, as one result of these standards, a love
of reading. The favourite amusement of these
young people is reading. It is, of course, non-
sense to suppose that they read for study : they
read for amusement : and it is, or should be, a
more desirable and more innocent form of amuse-
ment than the billiard room and the music
hall and the tavern bar, or the pavement in the
company of a girl. The penny journals cater
for young people : they provide, week by week,
things that will amuse them : stories, long and
short : papers descriptive — all kinds of papers :
papers of adventures, of travel, of history ; all
kinds of papers, except papers critical and liter-
ary : they demand a continual supply of these
things : they want, also, anecdotes, paragraphs,
and personal gossip : they want questions and
answers : they want verses : they want riddles :
they want, in a word, everything that their clien-
tele, which is not by any means confined to former
children of the Board Schools, will find amusing.
It is not uncommon, with certain superior
persons, to point the finger of scorn at these
papers. The act betrays ignorance. The critic
who speaks with contempt of a penny paper

56 • The Pen and the Book.

circulating by the hundred thousand does not
understand that it expresses a certain stage in
the growth of the mind, a stage out of which
the stronger and the keener mind will presently
emerge : when the paper is read by the middle
aged it appeals to a certain stage beyond which
that class of mind could never grow. It is quite
as unjust to pour contempt on such an intellec-
tual stage as it is to pour contempt upon the
small stature of the growing lad. But to pro-
vide this literature thousands of pens are at work
every day.

Who, then, are the component figures in this
vast army ? They come from all parts : there
are clergymen in their country parishes : the
wives and daughters of clergymen : the daugh-
ters of the middle class in town or country —
the girls' high schools are enormously con-
tributing to the ranks of those who write : there
are elderly single women who ardently desire to
add a little to their incomes : there are profes-
sional men, civil service men, clerks, actuated
by the same motive : it is impossible to say how
deep down or how widespread is the ambition to
make money by writing — I say to make money.
That is the dominant idea. The hope of writing
Avell, and of adding to literature, if that may be,
is another thing altogether. It ought to be that
hope, always, but we have here to deal with the
truth, which is, that these writers take up the
pen in the hope of making money. It is im-

The Literary Army. - 57

possible to compute their number. One may
only guess in the roughest manner. If a penny
weekly engages practically the work of about
fifteen people on each issue, and admits a paper
from each person not oftener than once a month,
we have sixty persons engaged upon that one
paper. There are — say — 200 such papers.
Therefore there are 12,000 persons who con-
tribute to these journals. Of course they can-
not all live by their work. Probably not more
than a fifth part do. That makes, however,
2,400 persons, men and women, who actually
live by writing stories and papers for the penny
weeklies, while there are many thousands more
who add to their incomes by doing so.*

But there is another company — that of the
people who write the penny "novelette." No
one knows how to arrive at the number of those
who write these things, or the number of penny
" novelettes " which are published. Some of the
writers are ladies — well-to-do ladies, not in the
least obliged to work — who slave for a trifle in
writing these things ; and have not even the
satisfaction, in most cases, of seeing their names
on the title page. Why do they do it ? They
are ashamed to avow their work. They do not
want the miserable pay. Why do they do it ?
I know not.

* I advance these figures with the greatest diffidence. I am
aware that they are only an approximation, and I am
suspicions that the numbers are much under-estimated.

58 The Pen and the Book.

Let us take a step upwards. There are the
better class magazines. It would be difficult for
a writer to live by contributing to these maga-
zines. But everyone who writes may, and often
does, add to his income by sending in an occa-
sional paper. These magazines are, very prop-
erly and very usefully, reserved as much as
possible for writers who are specialists : for men
who have a helpful word to say on a subject of
the moment : there are, for instance, few papers
which do more to form public opinion than the
Nineteenth Century or the Contemporary : it is
not often, therefore, that the litterateur, pure and
simple, gets a chance, and then it is generally by
means of a critical study, a biographical sketch
accepted and put in to fill up, and with the
editor's full consciousness that the general pub-
lic do not want this kind of paper at all. Such
a paper is, however, if it is well done, very ac-
ceptable to the small class who do care for
literary and critical papers.

Lastly, there are the novelists. Where do
they come from ? From all the professions.
How many of them are there ? If we take a
catalogue of W. H. Smith's books for sale we
find a list of novels filling many pages. Yet these
are not all. These are only the novels which,
out of the great mass published, have been taken
by W. H. Smith and Son for their circulating
library. I believe that their general rule is to
take all the books that are asked for. The list,

The Literary Army. 59

therefore, should be a complete exhibition of all
the novels worth reading, or thought, by people
of various tastes, to be worth reading. I have
had a catalogue made of the novelists whose
books are in this list ; of those who have suc-
ceeded, more or less. The reader will be sur-
prised to learn that there are at this moment, no
fewer than 1300 novelists, all in demand ; some
in great demand ; some in small demand. Out
of these there are, first of all, thirty or forty
very much in demand : next, fifty in demand
which should prove enough to repay the author
for his time and for his labour : thirdly, a long
line of names, some 250 in all, whose novels pay
their expenses and a little over : while the rest
are an uncertain quantity, most not paying more
than their bare expenses, while a very large
number — no one can ever learn how many — are
produced at the cost of the writer. But consider
this broad fact — there is an army of 1300 liv-
ing novelists, all of whom produce books for
which there is some demand !

We are now, perhaps, able to form some esti-
mate of the immense number of persons who are
engaged in the production of current literature
in all its branches.

(i.) There are, first of all, the scholars and
learned professors at the universities and great
colleges with most of whom the production of
one book or of many books on their own subjects
is a part of their professional work.

60 The Pen and the Book.

(ii.) There are philosophers and scientific
men, professors and lecturers. Every branch
of philosophy and of science has its writers :
most branches number many writers.

(iii.) There are the writers on art in all its
branches.

(iv.) There are the writers of one book —
say a book of travels.

(v.) There are men and women of letters
who write biographies, essays, critical papers,
reviews for the journals, papers for the maga-
zines, and books on literary subjects which the
world for the most part receives coldly, though
the reviewers acknowledge their literary im-
portance.

(vi.) There are the poets, who very often
take upon themselves as well the role of critic-
With these must be ranked the other writers of
imaginative work — of fiction and the drama.

(vii.) There are the writers of technical
books, of whom there are many to every craft,
art, mystery, or profession.

(viii.) There are the writers of educational
books.

(ix.) There are the contributors to the
penny weeklies.

(x.) There are the writers of the penny
dreadfuls.

You now understand why, in the Introduc-
tion, I estimated the number of men and women
who are more or less engaged in literary work,

The Literary Army. 61

at twenty thousand. I am sure that this num-
ber is not exaggerated, great as it may appear.
To produce and publish the works of this multi-
tude there are in London, over four hundred
publishers, according to the London Directory :
there are also in London twenty-five daily
papers: fifty weeklies: and over seventy monthly
papers and magazines to engage the flying pen.
In this number I do not include the journalists
proper. In another chapter Journalism as a
branch of the Literary Life, will be treated by
a practised journalist.

CHAPTER III.
CRITIC AND ESSAYIST.

I PROCEED to consider, briefly, the various
branches of the literary life. They may be
called respectively those of Observation : of Im-
agination : of Education : of Science : of History :
of Philosophy : of Art : and of Theology. Most
of these branches require little comment or ex-
planation.

I have placed " Observation " in the first
place, because observation is really the beginning,
and the middle, and the end, of all literature.
He who observes lays a foundation of fact on
which he may build his edifice, whether of
poetry, fiction, philosophy, or art. He has
before him, for observation, the whole field of
Nature and the whole field of Humanity.
Reasoning, systematic philosophy, religion, pro-
phetic vision, dream of poet, unless based on
observation of the facts and forces of nature and
humanity, is naught. The first duty, therefore,
of the one who aims at explaining or instructing
is to observe.

Critic and Essayist. 63

The power of observation can be acquired by
practice. For my own part I have always
found it useful to write down, upon returning
home after a walk, notes on the persons, the
objects, the buildings, the scenery, the flowers,
etc., that I have observed during that walk.
Some such practice as this, carried on regularly,
cultivates the memory ; teaches the eyes to see
things quickly — slow sight is worse than short
sight : makes a young writer understand the
necessity of selection and gives interest even to
a ride in a tramcar or an omnibus where there
are always faces to be read and things to be
heard. A great conjuror once taught his son
the power and practice of observation by making
him describe after passing a shop what he had
seen in the window. Let each for himself devise
his own method, provided that he recognise the
paramount importance of observation.

If observation is necessary in all branches of
literature, it is above everything in the branch
occupied by the essayist and the critic. To them
it means the consideration of the world, with the
intention of comment or explanation. All who
consider the ways and doings of men ; who take
notes with the view of making forecasts or dis-
covering tendencies ; who study the forces at
work ; the ideas of the day ; the religious thought
of the time ; the teaching, beliefs, prejudices, ex-
travagancies, ambitions and ideals of the day,
are essentially observers. Every man who gets

64 The Pen and the Book.

into a pulpit ; every man who speaks in the
House of Commons ; every man who writes a
leading article : every man who writes on any
social topic : is, in fact, an observer. As such,
he takes upon himself the duties and the profes-
sion of preacher, teacher, or critic. The critic
not only weighs and judges the thing done, hut
also, by so doing, teaches what should be done.
More ; since the principal function — the most
useful function — of the prophet, is to see clearly
the present and what it means : those who assume
the profession of critic, do in fact, though un-
consciously, assume the cloak of Elijah.

The prophetic robe will appear to most of us
impossible to seize and to wear. But there are
many to whom the position of critic, which they
do not associate with the prophetic robe, appears
both desirable and honourable.

It is, in fact, both desirable and honourable.
It is an excellent thing that there should be
critics in everything. In those branches where
there are no critics, there is languor and decay.
For example, the preaching in the Church of
England is not regarded as a proper field for the
critic : the result is that the pulpit has fallen
into a languishing condition ; as an organ for
moving the people and creating opinion it is
practically dead. In all other branches when-
ever criticism, sound, just, and unbiassed, by
personal motives, is brought to bear, health and
vigour are maintained.

Critic and Essayist. 65

For every branch of human achievement
there must be its own special critic, conversant
with the work, its possibilities, its limitations, and
its difficulties : thus, there is the critic of strategy :
there is the critic of the drama : the critic of
painting : the critic of music : the critic of
architecture : the critic of poetry : the critic of
history : the critic of philosophy : the critic of
matters Indian, colonial, continental or other-
wise : the critic of fiction : the critic of belles
lettres : and many more. And these are all
different : no one, for instance, would profess at
the same time to be a critic of painting and a
critic of philosophy. This fact is recognised by
the editors of the best papers, which do not as-
sign to the same hand widely different branches
of work. Every special critic wants his special
training. And a man who can write well with
special knowledge, with authority and instruc-
tion, upon any one branch, is certain to com-
mand success.

No man, however, can say, " I will be a
critic." For no man, unless to the manner born,
can become a critic. The born critic may be
recognised by the way in which he approaches
every subject. He preserves a somewhat cold
manner : he is never carried away : at the
theatre his business is with the actor as well as
with the fable : he keeps outside the story, by
which he is seldom moved to laughter or to
tears : he is thinking the whole time of the per-

66 The Pen and the Book.

formance and how the parts are played. At a
restaurant, even, he takes the dishes in the same
critical spirit : he falls into no enthusiasm over
the wine or the food ; he considers it with refer-
ence to his own standards. For everything on
which he forms an opinion, he has a standard by
which to judge of its excellencies, or its short-
comings. A critic of this kind may be found in
every club and in every society of man, though
not, perhaps, a literary critic.

The reader will do well to consider this branch
of the literary life. It is not engrossing, like
poetry : he can carry it on with other pursuits.
The foundation of the literary life is a full mind :
but for critical work special knowledge is re-
quired : let the young critic therefore take up
his own line and make it his own by study. He
must take care to acquire for himself standards
and canons of criticism ; he must read the
critical work of those who can teach him —
there are not many. As critics of literature,
for instance, John Morley ; Leslie Stephen ;
Professor Dowden ; Professor Saintsbury ;
Walter Pater ; Ste Beuve ; Austin Dobson ;
are names that occur. Let him be careful not
to read inferior criticism which cannot help him
and is likely to injure the taste.

I exhort him to remember that he is under-
taking a line of literary work most difficult, as
requiring always a sane mind, a sound judgment,
and a mind free from the intoxication of an

Critic and Essayist. 67

author's style or his subject ; it is indeed a work
of the deepest responsibility. He will under-
stand that his judgment — he has veritably
placed himself upon the bench — is not a ques-
tion of liking or disliking : it is a judicial
charge to the public, who constitute the jury ;
it is his business to explain the Law — in this case
the Law is found in the canons of criticism : he
must interpret the case for the reader ; he must
consider the subject first, what the writer in-
tended ; the treatment, next ; —how the writer
divides the word ; the style afterwards — how
the writer handles his points ; he must show his
jury how the case stands after the Law has
been applied. Here the analogy ceases, because
although the Law can be laid down on broad
general lines, there are cases, constantly occur-
ring in which the application of the law seems
impossible. In such cases the critic will have
to stretch the Law or to neglect the Law, either
on his own judgment.

The literary critic may be a lecturer on
History or Literature : at the outset he may be
a University man with a reputation for reading
and ability ; he may begin by writing for the
monthly magazines — a very good way of getting
some reputation ; he generally begins by being
" put on " as occasional reviewer of books for
one of the papers. This is a kind of work which
if he enters upon it with a conscience, will test
his ability and prove his critical powers. For

68 The Pen and the Book.

the space allotted to the review of a single book
is in most papers so small that the ordinary re-
viewer cannot afford the time to read any of the
books sent to him. For instance, a man may be
expected to " review " eight or ten novels in a
single column. This is, of course, absurd — still,
a quarter or a third of a column is in many
cases the most that can be offered. Let the
young reviewer make the most of his oppor-
tunities. Let him, at the cost of much time
unrewarded, make each review a serious one.
Let him never deride ; or call names ; or forget
that he is a gentleman speaking (presumably) of
another gentleman or gentlewoman. If the
piece is bad through and through, it should be a
question whether it is worth noticing at all : in
any case, the critic must remain courteous ; and
the author, while he is condemned judicially,
which is far more effective than being con-
demned with derision, or with " smartness," or
with impudence, will have had an opportunity
of learning at least the reason of his failure.

The substitution of courtesy and good manners
in the critical columns in place of the old black-
guard "slating" is only a thing of yesterday.
There still survive some of the old school who
think it right to enliven (!) the columns with
unmannerly abuse and with misrepresentation.
Let the young critic bear it in mind, and re-
member that it is due to himself as well as his
author to treat him with the courtesy due from
one gentleman to another.

Critic and Essayist. 69

Many complaints have been made about the
"log-rolling" of friends and private malice of
enemies. That there is still too much of both is
too true — and it is disgraceful to the profession
at large ; there are, however, many critics who
are entirely above any influences of any kind.
When such practices exist it is mainly the
fault of the editor who does not take care that
his books are placed in the hands of persons
who are neither personal friends nor personal
enemies of the writer. The Critic of New York
sets us an admirable example in this respect.
The writer who accepts a book for that paper
has to declare that he is neither a friend nor
an enemy of the author. In a word, the young
man who desires to be a literary critic desires
a great thing : a most useful thing : a most re-
sponsible thing : one which should require the
long preparation which makes a scholar and
continual additions to his knowledge : with
patience, courtesy, fairness, and never ending
sense of responsibility.

What has been said concerning the literary
critic may also be said of the Art critic, the
Musical critic, the Dramatic critic. The as-
pirant must study and know his subject. For
my own part, I do not believe in the judgments
of an art critic who is not himself an artist ; or
has at least attempted the art seriously. Nor
do I believe in the judgments of a Musical critic
who is not a musician. However deeply the

70 The Pen and the Book.

so-called critic may have studied history of Art,
however carefully he may have worked through
galleries, learned to compare, learned the quali-
ties of every painter of every school ; if he
knows nothing of the actual work ; if he does
not appreciate from experience the difficulties
and the technicalities, the possibilities and the
limitations of art, which can only be learned in
the practical work of the studio ; there will
always be something lacking in his critical work.
So also with music. How can a man, however
well versed in the history of music ; and con-
versant with the greatest works, really write
about music when he cannot play any instru-
ment, and knows nothing of the difficulties which
lie before the composer ? There are now so
many schools of art and music that it should
be possible to find young men or women who
do really know practically the technical part of
the art, and are so far qualified to take up the
role of critic. At the same time, since most men
will always think that it is better to be a third-
rate painter than a first-rate critic, the latter
will always be considered as more or less a
failure.

The special critic, once recognised, may expect
a reasonably fair share of work. Exhibitions of
pictures, new and old, are always being opened.
Add to this that books of art of all kinds are
always coming out — it would seem that every
year must bring out some new and important

Critic and Essayist. 71

work on art ; and the magazines are always
calling for more papers on subjects connected
with art. Such papers, in fact, have taken the
place of the old literary critical paper, which is
now seldom asked for.

The leader writer belongs to Journalism, on
which a chapter will be found later on (p. 231).
It is enough in this place to recognise him as
belonging to the learned profession of critic and
to claim for him the indispensable and essential
qualities of scholarship and study of politics,
social and political economy, and history ancient,
modern, and of to-day. There are many who
consider the leader writer as occupying the most
important place in literature because he leads or
guides popular opinion. If you listen to the
average talk in a train or at a dinner, or
wherever men meet, you will recognise that the
opinion is that of yesterday's leader. How does
a man arrive at this enviable post ? At first, he
must be a scholar and a student. This will take
him a good many years. There are not so many
scholars and students that one ever remains un-
known. Many leader writers have come from
fellowships at Oxford and Cambridge, their
reputation made before they move to London.
If the reader desires to become a leader writer
he must first qualify by study. If he is en-
dowed with the necessary gifts— the power of
writing and the power of vision there should not
be any great difficulty in his way.

72 The Pen and the Book.

Of essayists, the literary or Art critic is the
most common. But the essayist proper is the
observer by profession ; he who takes a subject
and deals with it, writing round it as Montaigne
did, or upon it as Johnson and Addison did, has
chosen a line of literature which is the most de-
lightful and may be most popular. Who would
not wish that he could write the Essays of Elia ?
Our literature is singularly rich in essayists ; a
good essayist has a great chance of success ; if he
is successful he should be happy in commanding
the affections of the people as well as their
admiration ; and the art of writing essays can be
acquired, and followed, in addition to the ordinary
work of bread-winning. I do not like to instance
living writers, but I may indicate Louis Steven-
son, who has so recently left us, to our sorrow
and loss, as an instance of the successful essayist.
His charm is that of manner and style, rather
than of thought. But people like manner and
style more than thought : and it may be safely
said that the affections of the world have been
bestowed far more readily upon Stevenson, the
essayist, than upon Stevenson, the novelist.

CHAPTER IV.
THE LIFE OF IMAGINATION.

I. The Poet.

IN treating of Imaginative Literature one thing
is most certain that, without the gift, it cannot
be taught. No one by working can confer upon
himself the power of writing verse, telling
stories, or making dramas. But for those who
are to the manner born these pages may present
some points of helpfulness, information, advice,
or suggestion.

If good advice was ever taken there would be
no poets. For certain it is that the History of
Literature is full of warnings against becoming
a Poet. If starvation deterred there would be
no poets, for it is impossible, as a rule, to live by
poetry. Yet some poets have lived by their verse.
Milton was a school-master first and a secretary
afterwards : Burns and Wordsworth followed
other occupations : Pope, Cowper, Byron, Keats,
Shelley, Tennyson, Browning, were all enabled
to write because they were possessed of private

74 The Pen and the Book.

means and were not compelled to earn their
bread. The poetic temperament, with all except
a few, demands absolute freedom, so that the
man may wander when and whither he pleases,
at his own sweet will, bound by no duties, sub-
ject to no master ; called upon to exercise no
functions ; to think of nothing but his work :
to produce as he pleases, as the mood takes him.
It is true that there are poets who are journal-
ists, critics, and reviewers : who belong to pro-
fessions— are they not all minor poets ? In
order to become a great poet, it seems almost
necessary that a man must be free.

The history of poets establishes the fact that
the poetic instinct is often so strong, even though
the outcome lands the writer only among the
minor poets, that youth, once called, cannot
choose but obey. Well for the poet, then, if his
standards are simple and his wants few. He
cannot hope to live by writing poetry : that he
will discover very quick!}'. A few, but they are
very few, buy new books of poetry. One pub-
lisher, for instance, greatly to his credit, has
recently made an attempt, in which he has partly
succeeded, to revive the taste for poetry. He is
credited with the power of generally getting
through the whole of a small edition. This is
something. Twenty years ago it would have
been impossible. Some curiosity about new
poetry has been awakened ; one can only wish
him greater success. Yet — what is it ? A new

The Life of Imagination. 75

poet steps forward. Out of the whole of the
English-speaking race — a hundred-and-twenty
millions in all — there are found, perhaps, 500 —
actually 500 ! who care enough about poetry to
buy a new book of verse. It is one in a quar-
ter-of-a-million.

What can the young poet do for a livelihood ?
For one thing, he may write verses for the
magazines. Most magazines contain one or
more copies of verse in every number. But
there is the competition to consider. The young
poet will find it as hard to get his verses ac-
cepted as if he were a young novelist. Even
when they are accepted he will still find it diffi-
cult to live upon the proceeds.

Can one, then, advise the young Poet for his
good ? He is born, as we all acknowledge, not
made. Can he however, assist in the develop-
ment and the perfection of himself?

All the general rules that have been laid down
apply to Poetry as well as to every others form
of the literary life.

It is necessary for him, even more than for
others, to cultivate himself ; to learn what he can
and all he can, in everything that belongs to
culture. Even more than the critic, he must
observe and cultivate the power of observation.
He must learn to exercise and develop his senses ;
a town-bred youth, for instance, starts heavily
handicapped : he has no eyes for the things of
Nature : his eyes are too slow to catch the flight

76 The Pen and the Book.

of a bird : they are too dull to perceive tlie
beauty and the infinite variety of colour and of
light : he does not understand the fields and the
woods : the moods of the sky : the aspect of the
river ; the song of the birds, and the names and
seasons of the flowers. All these things the
young poet should cultivate and learn. Think
how large a part nature fills in Poetry.

He must learn, as well, the ways of men ; the
history of civilisation ; the rise in advance of
mankind.

No knowledge that concerns humanity is use-
less to the Poet. There is, in addition, the study
of his own craft. Poets are not greatly given to
revealing the secrets of the study. It is the
fashion of the world to suppose that poets sing
because they must ; without training, without
study ; without practice. The contrary is, of
course, the case. The study of metres ; the
choice of metres ; the functions, powers, and
limitations of metres ; require long and careful
study and patience ; the mastery of metres re-
quires long practice and serious practice. It is
not by happy chance that a Tennyson finds the
metre of In Memoriam lying ready to his hand.
The study of English poetry involves the study
of a great many metres, all of them beautiful and
effective in practised hands ; a young man cannot
do better than practice these metres and learn
what each is best fitted for and for what it should
be chosen. None of our English metres ever

The Life of Imagination. 77

die : the heroic verse of Pope came to be con-
sidered a mere trick because it seemed that any-
body could learn it ; that was not, however, true ;
it was easily learned by many ; it ceased to give
the delight that largely consists of surprise ; yet
it has never died ; there are forms of poetry
which are better expressed in the heroic metre
than in any other. In the same way the metre
of Gray's Elegy is peculiarly appropriate to the
verse of meditation, repose, or regret. The
music of Swinburne so far remains his own ; he
has had imitators, but none that have reached the
music and the rhythm of the original. Let the
young writer of verse read all ; learn all ; try all ;
practice all. He will not, perhaps, succeed in
spite of his most strenuous efforts. Not one in
a thousand does succeed. To be received by the
world as a great poet is to sound the deepest
depths in the heart of man — who shall dare to
hope for this greatness ? But it is more glorious,
sometimes, to fail in a grand effort than to succeed
in a small effort. Now below the first rank there
is no real success in verse. The world speaks of
its minor poets, but when it loves a poet and
learns his poetry and lingers over his lines and
repeats them, making them proverbs, rules for
the conduct of life, words of consolation and of
hope, then that poet steps into the first rank.
Of course, the success of an hour does not count.
No poet can be said to be loved by the world till
he has been loved unto the third and fourth
generation.

78 The Pen and the Book.

Poetry must, therefore, be pursued for its own
sake, for its one prize, though so stupendous, is
very, very seldom attained. At best, for a long
time, neglect ; at best, a small following, slowly
growing greater ; rewards the poet. Tennyson
is nearly fifty before he is recognised by the
whole Anglo-Saxon speaking races : BroAvning
is sixty before the world agrees to recognise
him. It is a life of constant, patient effort to
arrive at the Higher Thought, and to translate
it into intelligible, musical, attractive verse ; the
poet must be content to see lower natures
applauded and followed while he himself is ne-
glected— do you think it was pleasant for
Browning to mark the wide popularity of Eliza
Cook and Martin Tupper ? — he must be content
to find his clientele of readers slowly, very
slowly, growing, and himself held in no respect
except by the few.

It is a common reproach against literary men
of all kinds that they take themselves too
seriously. In the case of poets, there is nothing
to prevent their doing so, but rather every
encouragement. No poet can judge coldly of
his own work ; he must needs love it ; he sees,
if he reads it, not the actual words and lines,
but the thoughts that fired his brain when he
wrote ; the great thoughts which he strove to fix
in verse, and hoped to make them intelligible
and permanent. He sees, in fact, himself in
his verse, as no other writer ever does see him-

The Life of Imagination. 79

self. If his following is minute, so, he may
acknowledge for solace, was that of Browning ;
so, at first, was that of Keats ; so, at first, was
that of Wordsworth. All the great poets have
begun with a small audience. This is a consola-
tion to many who will yet always remain small
poets. If the critics deride, have they not derided
Keats and Byron, and Tennyson and Words-
worth ? Therefore, the poet, successful or
neglected, may live in a luminous haze of
imaginary glory, and he may die, as he has lived,
taking himself seriously.

There is no other occupation which more
effectually engrosses and absorbs the worker ;
there is none more arduous or more delightful ;
none which lifts one more completely out of the
region of practical life than the composition of
poetry. If one fails — without knowing it ; if
one succeeds — only in imagination ; it is of all
pursuits the most enviable. Therefore, let us
encourage the young poet to go on with his
studies even if they lead him no higher than the
page of a monthly magazine, and no farther than
the publication ( at his own expense) of a flimsy
little volume. For his comfort it will be a very
pretty little volume ; artistically got up, bound
in white with letters of gold, and limited to an
edition of two hundred and fifty copies, as if
there were only so many people in the world
worthy to receive it. How, meantime, can the
poet live ? Mostly, he lives by journalism of

80 The Pen and the Book.

some kind or the other. Sometimes he hangs
about a publisher's place and picks up some of
the work that is going. If he is wise he goes on
in the work by which his parents hoped to see
him live, and thrive, and rise even to the making
of money. But by poetry he cannot live.

II. The Novelist.

I HAVE to remind my readers that this book is
intended to serve as a guide, specially to the
young and inexperienced.

I must therefore begin the chapter by calling
preliminary attention to certain points connected
with the Art of Fiction, and I shall quote
passages from a lecture delivered by myself,
twelve years ago, on this subject.

It is then, first and before all, a real Art. It
is the oldest, because it was known and practised
long before Painting and her sisters were in ex-
istence or even thought of; it is older than any
of the Muses from whose company she who tells
stories has hitherto been excluded ; it is the
most widely spread, because in no race of men
under the sun is it unknown, even though the
stories may be always the same, and handed
down from generation to generation in the same
form ; it is the most religious of all the Arts,
because in every age until the present the lives,
exploits and sufferings of gods, goddesses, saints
and heroes have been the favourite theme ; it

The Life of Imagination. 81

has always been the most popular, because it re-
quires neither culture, education, nor natural
genius to understand and listen to a story ; it is
the most moral, because the world has always
been taught whatever little morality it possesses
by way of story, fable, apologue, parable, and
allegory. It commands the widest influence,
because it can be carried easily and everywhere,
into regions where pictures are never seen and
music is never heard ; it is the greatest teaching
power, because its lessons are most readily ap-
prehended and understood. All this, which
might have been said thousands of years ago,
may be said to-day with even greater force and
truth. That world which exists not, but is an
invention or an imitation — that world in which
the shadows and shapes of men move about be-
fore our eyes as real as if they were actually
living and speaking among us, is like a great
theatre accessible to all of every sort, on whose
stage are enacted, at our own sweet will, when-
ever we please to command them, the most
beautiful plays : it is, as every theatre should
be, the school in which manners are learned :
here the majority of reading mankind learn
nearly all that they know of life and manners,
of philosophy and art ; even of science and re-
ligion. The modern novel converts abstract
ideas into living models ; it gives ideas, it
strengthens faith, it preaches a higher morality
than is seen in the actual world ; it commands

82 The Pen and the Book.

the emotions of pity, admiration, and terror ;
it creates and keeps alive the sense of sympathy ;
it is the universal teacher ; it is the only book
which the great mass of reading mankind ever
do read ; it is the only way in which people can
learn what other men and women are like ; it
redeems their lives from dulness, puts thoughts,
desires, knowledge, and even ambitions into
their hearts : it teaches them to talk, and en-
riches their speech with epigrams, anecdotes and
illustrations. It is an unfailing source of de-
light to millions, happily not too critical.
Why, out of all the books taken down from the
shelves of the public libraries, four-fifths are
novels, and of all those that are bought nine-
tenths are novels. Compared with this tremen-
dous engine of popular influence, what are all
the other Arts put together ? Can we not alter
the old maxim, and say with truth, Let him
who pleases make the laws if I may write the
novels ?

As for the field with which this Art of Fic-
tion occupies itself, it is, if you please, nothing
less than the whole of Humanity. The novelist
studies men and women; he is concerned with
their actions and their thoughts, their errors and
their follies, their greatness and their meanness ;
the countless forms of beauty and constantly
varying moods to be seen among them ; the
forces which act upon them ; the passions, preju-
dices, hopes and fears which pull them this way

The Life of Imagination. 83

and that. He has to do, above all, and before
all, with men and women. No one, for instance,
among novelists, can be called a landscape
painter, or a painter of sea-pieces, or a painter
of fruit and flowers, save only in strict subordi-
nation to the group of characters with whom he
is dealing. Landscape, sea, sky, and air, are
merely accessories introduced in order to set off
and bring into greater prominence the figures
on the stage. The very first rule in Fiction is
that the human interest must absolutely absorb
everything else.

It is, therefore, the especial characteristic of
this Art, that, since it deals exclusively with
men and women, it not only requires of its fol-
lowers, but also creates in readers, that senti-
ment which is destined to be a most mighty
engine in deepening and widening the civilization
of the world. We call it Sympathy, but it
means a great deal more than was formerly
understood by the word. It means, in fact,
what Professor Seeley once called the Enthusi-
asm of Humanity, and it first appeared, I think,
about a hundred-and-fifty years ago, when the
modern novel came into existence. You will
find it, for instance, conspicuous for its absence
in Defoe. The modern Sympathy includes not
only the power to pity the sufferings of others,
but also that of understanding their very souls ;
it is the reverence for man, the respect for his
personality, the recognition of his individuality,

84 The Pen and the Book.

and the enormous value of the one man, the per-
ception of one man's relation to another, his
duties and responsibilities. Through the strength
of this newly-born faculty, and aided by the
guidance of a great artist, we are enabled to
discern the real indestructible man beneath the
rags and filth of a common castaway, and the
possibilities of the meanest gutter child that
steals in the streets for its daily bread. Surely
that is a wonderful Art which endows the people
— all the people — with this power of vision and
of feeling. Painting has not done it, and could
never do it ; Painting has done more for nature
than for humanity. Sculpture could not do it,
because it deals with situation and form, rather
than action. Music cannot do it, because Music
(if I understand rightly) appeals especially to
the individual concerning himself and his own
aspirations. Poetry alone is the rival of Fic-
tion, and in this respect it takes a lower place,
not because Poetry fails to teach and interpret,
but because Fiction is, and must always be,
more popular.

Again, this Art teaches, like the others, by
suppression and reticence. Out of the great
procession of Humanity, the Comedie Humaine
which the novelist sees passing ever before his
eyes, single figures detach themselves one after
the other, to be questioned, examined, and re-
ceived or rejected. This process goes on per-
petually. Humanity is so vast a field, that to

The Life of Imagination. 85

one who goes about watching men and women,
and does not sit at home and evolve figures out
of inner consciousness, there is not and can
never be any end or limit to the freshness and
interest of these figures. It is the work of the
artist to select the figures, to suppress, to copy,
to group, and to work up the incidents which
each one offers. The daily life of the world is
not dramatic — it is monotonous ; the novelist
makes it dramatic by his silences, his suppres-
sions, and his exaggerations. No one, for ex-
ample, in fiction behaves quite in the same way
as in real life ; as on the stage, if an actor un-
folds and reads a letter, the simple action is done
with an exaggeration of gesture which calls
attention to the thing and to its importance, so
in romance, while nothing should be allowed
which does not carry on the story, so everything
as it occurs must be accentuated and yet de-
prived of needless accessory details. The ges-
tures of the characters at an important juncture,
their looks, their voices, may all be noted if they
help to impress the situation. Even the wea-
ther, the wind and the rain, with some writers,
have been made to emphasize a mood or a pas-
sion of a heroine. To know how to use these
aids artistically is to the novelist exactly what
to the actor is the right presentation of a letter,
the handing of a chair, even the removal of a
glove.

A third characteristic of Fiction, which should

86 The Pen and the Book.

alone be sufficient to give it a place among the
noblest forms of Art, is that, like Poetry, Paint-
ing, and Music, it becomes a vehicle, not only
for the best thoughts of the writer, but also for
those of the reader, so that a novelist may write
truthfully and faithfully, but simply, and yet be
understood in a far fuller and nobler sense than
was present to his own mind. This power is the
very highest gift of the poet. He has a vision
and sees a thing clearly, yet perhaps afar off;
another who reads him is enabled to get the
same vision, to see the same thing, yet closer and
more distinctly. For a lower intellect thus to
lead and instruct a higher is surely a very great
gift, and granted only to the highest forms of
Art. And this it is which Fiction of the best
kind does for its readers. It is, however, only
another way of saying that Truth in Fiction
produces effects similar to those produced by
Truth in every other Art.

We come next to speak of the Laws which
govern this Art. I mean those general rules
and principles which must necessarily be ac-
quired by every writer of Fiction before he can
even hope for success. Rules will not make a
man a novelist, any more than a knowledge of
grammar makes a man know a language, or a
knowledge of musical science makes a man able
to play an instrument. Yet the rules must be
learned. And, in speaking of them, one is com-
pelled, so close is the connection between the

The Life of Imagination. 87

sister Arts, to use not only the same terms, but
also to adopt the same rules, as those laid down
by painters for their students. If these Laws
appear self-evident, it is a proof that the general
principles of the Art are well understood. Con-
sidering, however, the vast quantity of bad, in-
artistic work which is every week laid before the
public, one is inclined to think that a statement
of these principles may not be without useful-
ness.

First, and before everything else, there is the
rule that everything in Fiction which is inven-
ted and is not the result of personal experience
and observation is worthless. In some other
Arts, the design may follow any lines which the
designer pleases : it may be fanciful, unreal, or
grotesque ; but in modern Fiction, whose sole
end, aim, and purpose is to portray humanity
and human character, the design must be in ac-
cordance with the customs and general practice
of living men and women under any proposed
set of circumstances and conditions. That is to
say, the characters must be real, and such as
might be met with in actual life, or, at least, the
natural developments of such people as any of
us might meet ; their actions must be natural
and consistent ; the conditions of place, of man-
ners, and of thought must be drawn from per-
sonal observation.

This being so, the first thing which has to be
acquired is the art of description. It seems

88 The Pen and the Book.

easy to describe ; anyone, it seems, can set down
what he sees. But consider. How much does
he see ? There is everywhere, even in a room,
such a quantity of things to be seen : far, far
more in field and hedge, in mountain and in
forest and beside the stream, are there countless
things to be seen ; the unpractised eye sees
nothing, or next to nothing. Here is a tree,
here is a flower, there is sunshine lying on the
hill. But to the observant and trained eye, the
intelligent eye, there lies before him everywhere
an inexhaustible and bewildering mass of things
to see. Remember how Jefferies sits down
in a coppice with his eyes wide open to see
what the rest of us never dreamed of looking
for. Long before he has half finished telling us
what he has seen — behold ! a volume, and one
of the most delightful volumes conceivable.
But, then, Jefferies is a profound naturalist.
We cannot all describe after his manner ; nor
should we try, for the simple reason that des-
criptions of still life in a novel must be strictly
subordinated to the human interest. But while
Jefferies has his hedge and ditch and brook,
we have our towns, our villages, and our assem-
blies of men and women. Among them we
must not only observe, but we must select.
Here, then, are two distinct faculties which the
intending novelist must acquire ; viz., observa-
tion and selection.

What is next required, then, is the power of

The Life of Imagination. 89

Selection. Can this be taught ? I think not, at
least I do not know how, unless it is by reading.
In every Art, selection requires that kind of
special fitness for the Art which is included in
the much abused word Genius. In Fiction, the
power of selection requires a large share of the
dramatic sense. Those who already possess this
faculty will not go wrong if they bear in mind
the simple rule that nothing should be admitted
which does not advance the story, illustrate the
characters, bring into stronger relief the hidden
forces which act upon them, their emotions, their
passions, and their intentions. All descriptions
which hinder instead of helping the action, all
episodes of whatever kind, all conversation which
does not either advance the story or illustrate
the characters, ought to be rigidly suppressed.

Closely connected with selection is dramatic
presentation. Given a situation, it should be
the first care of the writer to present it as dra-
matically, that is to say as forcibly, as possible.
The grouping and setting of the picture, the
due subordination of description to dialogue, the
rapidity of the action, those things which natu-
rally suggest themselves to the practised eye,
deserve to be very carefully considered by the
beginner. In fact, a novel is like a play : it
may be divided into scenes and acts, tableaux
and situations, separated by the end of the
chapter instead of the drop scene : the writer is
the dramatist, stage - manager, scene - painter,

90 The Pen and the Book.

actor, and carpenter, all in one : it is his single
business to see that none of the scenes flag or
fall flat : he must never for one moment forget
to consider how the piece is looking from the
front.

The next simple Rule is that the drawing of
each figure must be clear in outline, and, even if
only sketched, must be sketched without hesita-
tion. This can only be done when the writer
himself sees his figures clearly. Characters in
fiction do not, it must be understood, spring
Minerva-like from the brain. They grow : they
grow sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly.
From the first moment of conception, that is to
say, from the first moment of their being seen
and caught, they grow continuously and almost
without mental effort. If they do not grow and
become every day clearer, they had better be
put aside at once, and forgotten as soon as may
be, because that is a proof that the author does
not understand the character he has himself en-
deavoured to create.

As for the methods of conveying a clear un-
derstanding of a character, they are many.
The first and the easiest is to make it clear by
reason of some mannerism or personal peculi-
arity, some trick of speech or of carriage.
This is the worst, as may generally be said of
the easiest way. Another easy method is to
describe your character at length. This also is
a bad, because a tedious, method. If, however,

The Life of Imagination. 91

vou read a page or two of any good writer, you
will discover that he first makes a character in-
telligible by a few words, and then allows him
to reveal himself in action and dialogue. On
the other hand, nothing is more inartistic than
to be constantly calling attention in a dialogue
to a gesture or a look, to laughter or to tears.
The situation generally requires no such expla-
nation : in some well-known scenes which I
could quote, there is not a single word to empha-
size or explain the attitude, manner, and look of
the speakers, yet they are as intelligible as if
they were written down and described. That is
the highest art which carries the reader along
and makes him see, without being told, the
changing expressions, the gestures of the speak-
ers, and hear the varying tones of their voices.
It is as if one should close one's eyes at the
theatre, and yet continue to see the actors on the
stage as well as hear their voices. The only
writer who can do this is he who makes his
characters intelligible from the very outset,
causes them first to stand before the reader in
clear outline, and then with every additional
line brings out the figure, fills up the face, and
makes his creatures grow from the simple out-
line more and more to the perfect and rounded
figure.

Clearness of drawing, which includes clear-
ness of vision, also assists in producing direct-
ness of purpose. As soon as the actors in the

92 The Pen and the Book.

story become real in the mind of the narrator,
and not before, the story itself becomes real to
him. More than this, he becomes straightway
vehemently impelled to tell it, and he is moved
to tell it in the best and most direct way, the
most dramatic way, the most truthful way pos-
sible to him. It is, in fact, only when the writer
believes his own story, and knows it to be every
word true, and feels that he has somehow
learned from everyone concerned the secret his-
tory of his own part in it, that he (ran really be-
gin to write it.* We know how sometimes,
even from a practised hand, there comes a work
marred with the fatal defect that the writer
does not believe in his own story. When this is
the case, one may generally find on investigation
that one cause at least of the failure is that the
characters, or some of them, are blurred and un-
certain.

Again, the modern English novel, whatever
form it takes, almost always starts with a con-
scious moral purpose. When it does not, so

* Hardly anything is more important than this — to believe
in your own story. Wherefore let the student remember that
unless the characters exist and move about in his brain, all
separate, distinct, living, and perpetually engaged in the ac-
tion of the story, sometimes at one part of it, sometimes at
another, and that in scenes and places which must be omitted
in the writing, he has got no story to tell and had better give
it up. I do not think it is generally understood that there
are thousands of scenes which belong to the story and never
get outside the writer's brain at all. Some of these may be
very beautiful and touching ; but there is not room for all,
and the writer has to select.

The Life of Imagination. 93

much are we accustomed to expect it, that one
feels as if there has been a debasement of the
Art. It has, unhappily, become possible in this
country for a writer to defile and defame humanity
and still be called an artist. But the develop-
ment of modern sympathy, the growing reve-
rence for the individual, the ever-widening love
of things beautiful and the appreciation of lives
made beautiful by devotion and self-denial, the
sense of personal responsibility among the Eng-
lish-speaking races, the deep-seated religion of
our people, even in a time of doubt, are all
forces which act strongly upon the artist as well
as upon his readers, and lend to his work,
whether he will or not, a moral purpose so clearly
marked that it has become almost a law of
English Fiction. We must acknowledge that
this is a truly admirable thing, and a great cause
for congratulation. At the same time, one may
be permitted to think that the preaching novel is
the least desirable of any, and to be unfeignedly
rejoiced that the old religious novel, written in
the interests of High Church or Low Church or
any other Church, has gone out of fashion.

Next, just as in Painting and Sculpture, not
only are fidelity, truth, and harmony to be ob-
served in Fiction, but also beauty of workman-
ship. It is almost impossible to estimate too
highly the value of careful workmanship, that is,
of style. Every one, without exception, of the
great Masters in Fiction, has recognised this

94 The Pen and the Book.

truth. You will hardly find a single page in any
of them which is not carefully and even elabo-
rately worked up. I think there is no point on
which critics of novels should place greater im-
portance than this, because it is one which young
novelists are so very liable to ignore. There
ought not to be in a novel, any more than in a
poem, a single sentence carelessly worded, a
single phrase which has not been considered.
Consider, if you please, any one of the great
scenes in Fiction — how much of the effect is due
to the style, the balanced sentences, the very
words used by the narrator ! This, however, is
only one more point of similarity between Fic-
tion and the sister Arts. There is, I know, the
danger of attaching too much attention to style
at the expense of situation, and so falling a prey
to priggishness, fashions, and mannerisms of the
day. It is certainly a danger ; at the same time,
it sometimes seems, when one reads the slipshod,
careless English which is often thought good
enough for story-telling, that it is almost impos-
sible to overrate the value of style. There is
comfort in the thought that no reputation worth
having can be made without attending to style,
and that there is no style, however rugged, which
cannot be made beautiful by attention and pains.
" How many times," a writer once asked a girl
who brought him her first effort for advice and
criticism — " how many times have you re-written
this page ? " She confessed that she had written

The Life of Imagination. 95

it once for all, had never read it afterwards, and
had not the least idea that there was such a
thing as style. Is it not presumptuous in the
highest degree to believe that what one has pro-
duced without pains, thought, or trouble will
give anj pleasure to the reader ?

In fact, every scene, however unimportant,
should be completely and carefully finished.
There should be no unfinished places, no sign
anywhere of weariness or haste — in fact, no
scamping. The writer must so love his work as
to dwell tenderly on every line and be literally
unable to send forth a single page of it without
the finishing touches. We all of us remember
that kind of novel in which every scene has the
appearance of being hurried and scamped.

To sum up these few preliminary and general
laws. The Art of Fiction requires first of all
the power of description, truth and fidelity, ob-
servation, selection, clearness of conception and
of outline, dramatic grouping, directness of pur-
pose, a profovmd belief on the part of the story-
teller in the reality of his story, and beauty of
workmanship. It is, moreover, an Art which re-
quires of those who follow it seriously that they
must be unceasingly occupied in studying the
ways of mankind, the social laws, the religions,
philosophies, tendencies, thoughts, prejudices,
superstitions of men and women. They must
consider as many of the forces which act upon
classes and upon individuals as they can dis-

96 The Pen and the Book.

cover ; they should be always trying to put
themselves into the place of another ; they must
be as inquisitive and as watchful as a detective,
as suspicious as a criminal lawyer, as eager for
knowledge as a physicist, and withal fully pos-
sessed of that spirit to which nothing appears
mean, nothing contemptible, nothing unworthy
of study, which belongs to human nature.

After all these preliminary studies there comes
the most important point of all — the story.
There is a school which pretends that there is no
need for a story : all the stories, they say, have
been told already ; there is no more room for in-
vention : nobody wants any longer to listen to a
story. One hears this kind of talk with the
same wonder which one feels when a new mons-
trous fashion changes the beautiful figure of
woman into something grotesque and unnatural.
Men say these things gravely to each other,
especially men who have no story to tell : other
men listen gravely ; in the same way women put
on the newest and most preposterous fashions
gravely, and look upon each other without either
laughing or hiding their faces for shame. It is,
indeed, if we think of it, a most strange and
wonderful theory, that we should continue to
care for Fiction and cease to care for the story.
We have all along been training ourselves how
to tell the story, and here is this new school
which steps in like the needy knife-grinder, to
explain that there is no story left at all to tell.

The Life of Imagination. 97

Why, the story is everything. I cannot con-
ceive of a world going on at all without stories,
and those strong ones, with incident in them,
and merriment and pathos, laughter and tears,
and the excitement of wondering what will hap-
pen next. Fortunately, these new theorists
contradict themselves, because they find it im-
possible to write a novel which shall not contain
a story, although it may be but a puny bantling.
Fiction without adventure — a drama without a
plot — a novel without surprises — the thing is as
impossible as life without uncertainty.

As for the story, then. And here theory and
teaching can go no farther. For every Art
there is the corresponding science which may be
taught. We have been speaking of the corres-
ponding science. But the Art itself can neither
be taught nor communicated. If the thing is in
a man he will bring it out somehow, well or
badly, quickly or slowly. If it is not, he can
never learn it. Here, then, let us suppose that
we have to do with the man to whom the inven-
tion of stories is part of his nature. We will
also suppose that he has mastered the laws of his
Art, and is now anxious to apply them. To
such a man one can only recommend that he
should with the greatest care and attention
analyze and examine the construction of certain
works, which are acknowledged to be of the
first rank in fiction.

I invite the young novelist to consider these

98 The Pen and the Book.

observations and to apply them to any work of
Fiction that he pleases.

I next proceed to lay down certain rules.

(i). The necessity of daily practice.

Let me repeat the advice already given (p.
48), as to acquiring the mastery over the pen
and of writing something every day : something
definite : a dialogue on a given subject : an
essay on a given subject : the description of a
piece of country : a portrait : something that
will restrain the pen ; prevent the style from be-
coming slipshod ; and will make the presentation
of narrative or argument direct and straight-
forward.

(ii). Let me also urge once more the neces-
sity of acquiring and cultivating the power of
observation.

(iii). As regards reading. It is, of course,
necessary to read the masters in fiction. As has
already been stated, it is part of the equipment
of a young novelist that he must be familiar
with these great works. But I would not advise
him to saturate his mind with contemporary
fiction. He must think of cultivating his own
style rather than of imitating or criticizing or
avoiding other writers. And he must not be
hampered with the feeling that this or that story
is an old one, already used, an objection quite
likely to occur to one who reads a great many
novels. According to some, as we know, all the
stories are old : all have been told a thousand

The Life of Imagination. 99

times. The story of Cinderella, for instance,
belongs to hundreds of tribes and nations. Ac-
cording to others, the number of stories is as
infinite as are the variations of the human face
and the changes of the human heart.

(iv). But novels should be read in moderation
or for the purpose of analysis. And the use of
analysis is to find out how the story is worked
out — how it is planned : and how it is told. For
instance, I shall not, I hope, be charged with
vainglory if I suggest one of my own, say the
novel called " Beyond the Dreams of Avarice."

In this history there is presented the picture
of a family widely scattered, the members of
which do not know each other. One of them
dies apparently intestate, leaving an immense
fortune. There is, of course, an immediate rush
of claimants. Unless the claim can be success-
fully proved, the money will go to the Crown.
Claimants come from New Zealand, from Amer-
ica, from all parts. There is, however, a grand-
son who can, if he chooses, assert his claim and
take the whole. How the search into old family
history reveals long hidden skeletons, and brings
to light forgotten scandals, and brings together
people of widely different social positions, and
how the constant temptation to reveal himself
acts upon the character of the true heir to the
illgotten millions, is the theme of the story.

How should the student proceed to analyse
this, or any other, story ?

100 The Pen and the Book.

(i). He should read it through uncritically.
If possible, he should himself be quite carried
away by the story. Is it not a proof that one
possesses an imagination if he can be carried away
by a story ?

(ii). He should then read it again, this time
critically.

(iii). He may next take pen and paper, and
write down the leading idea of the story : the
way in which this idea has been set, so to speak,
among a group of characters and in a place
where it seems naturally enshrined. He should
examine, in turn, the part played by every one of
the characters. If any one character has played
no part at all in the conduct of the fable, he has
no business in the book. He may consider also
how the story is " mounted," so to speak ; with
what scenery and surroundings, and how these
help out the story. In other words, he might
pull the story to pieces and then reconstruct it
himself.

It is so important that the dialogue should be
clear ; should advance the story : should be
bright, that the young writer must practise
much and often the art of writing dialogue. A
very good method is to make little plays ; by so
doing he will not only learn to make his fiction
dramatic, but he will also be teaching himself
the art of writing plays.

(iv.) He must cultivate his own mind by
every means in his power. This also is repeti-

The Life of Imagination. 101

tion (see p. 46). The novelist, like the poet,
reveals himself : he lays bare his mind : he
shows what is in him : he exposes his weak-
nesses. The aspirant must learn, therefore, all
he can : not only of literature : but something
about art : something about music : something
about the drama. Let him remember that what-
ever he learns, whatever he knows, will add its
contribution to his page, and will enrich his
work and make it full and strong.

(v.) He should read French novels for the
construction, and for the clearness and neatness
of style which characterize the best French
work.

(vi.) I am supposing that he is serious in his
aims, and that he knows perfectly well that his
ambition deserves the most patient work : the
most determined courage. He may be engaged
in something else all day — say in a merchant's
office. Then let him give his spare time, his
evenings, his early mornings, to preparation for
this work.

(vii.) I suppose that he has already made
some progress, written some tentative stories or
sketches. It is extremely important that at this
point he should take advice. I strongly recom-
mend him to send his work to the Society of
Authors, 4, Portugal Street, Lincoln's Inn
Fields, where, for a small fee, he will get an
opinion upon it from a competent adviser. This
step may save him a great deal of trouble, and

102 The Pen and the Book.

may warn him of defects which he might unaided
pass over.

(viii.) There is next the Golden Rule that
belongs to literary as to all other work. Let
him take trouble — take any amount of trouble.
Let him give his best to everything that he
sends out. Let him never think of husbanding
his ideas. Let him never be afraid of drying up
the source. In the case of imaginative work,
the more generously he gives, the more amply
will he receive. Only let him take trouble and
let nothing go out but the very best that he can
give. What did Carlyle say ? " Give yourself
royally."

(ix.) At the outset the young novelist is
sometimes perplexed about the length. More
often he is ignorant even of the necessity of con-
sidering the length. A fashion has grown up of
late years, of estimating a novel, for serial pur-
poses, by the number of words it contains. Some
persons affect to see in this method a degradation
of literature : they suppose that the author is paid
literally by the number of words, and that he is
tempted to stretch out his work in order to get
more money, regardless of art. This is nonsense.
The objection betrays entire ignorance of
methods. For the writer is not paid slavishly by
the number of words, but, which is very natural,
by the space which the editor of a magazine can
give him. Thus, the editor wants a story which
will occupy so many pages : he naturally arranges

The Life of Imagination. 103

his articles by the page : formerly he considered
them by the sheet. Dr. Johnson, for instance,
and the men of his time, were paid by the sheet.
Both page and sheet mean words : the connection
between printed page or sheet and written page
or sheet must therefore be established. Nothing
is easier. The writer, I suppose, always uses one
size of paper ; he therefore knows exactly how
many words go to his written page : he can thus
arrange his work so as to suit his page. If, for
instance, the editor wants ten pages, or ten
columns, of a thousand words each, the writer
arranges for ten thousand words. The author is
exactly in the position of a painter who wishes to
fill a canvas of a certain size. There is no degra-
dation that I can see. Another example. The
illustrated papers generally have a serial novel
running for three months or six months. Each
instalment, as a rule, covers a space represented
by about six thousand words : the author is not
called upon to furnish exactly six thousand
words, but something like that amount — some
hundreds over or under. The editor will certainly
not count the words, but he will expect a certain
amount of space, and the author knows how many
words, /.<?., how many of his own pages, go to
make up that space.

If a novel does not run first in serial form, but
is published directly, the writer has a very much
larger choice as to space. Nowadays, there is no
difference made in price between a long novel
and a short novel.

104 The Pen and the Book.

In this case, where there are no fetters imposed
by serial publication, the writer has only to con-
sider what people ask in a novel as to length.
They like a story which will take them two or
three evenings to read : this means a volume of
about 300 or 320 pages in length, or, about
twenty sheets of sixteen pages each ; or 80,000
to 100,000 words if we follow the modern mode
of reckoning length. The average one volume
story is in length now more often the former
than the latter.

Let us conclude this chapter with a note on
the short story. The young writer will do well
to attempt a reputation for himself by the writing
of short stories. He will find no other reputation
more useful or more abiding. No other kind of
work is more in demand. Now, in order to
write short stories, he must understand what a
short story should be. To begin with, then, it
must not be the long story abridged. It must
not be the story of a life. It should be an episode
in a life : it is not at all necessary to ring the
wedding bells at the end : there need be no love
in it : it should be brightly written : it should
turn on one incident : it should reveal the char-
acters with the least possible description by
means of dialogue : it should present the setting
of place or time with the fewest possible words.
This most useful branch of the art may be best
cultivated by writing dialogue and little dramas.
The dialogue must be, above all things, bright :

The Life of Imagination. 105

for my own part I dislike dialogue stuffed with
epigram, whether intended for the stage or for a
magazine, simply because it is unnatural, and
dialogue for either purpose ought to seem natural
and unforced, even though, for either purpose, it
must be more or less exaggerated. The very
cleverest people never talk quite as the epigram-
matists make them.

The student may read as a help and an illus-
tration the short stories by Guy de Maupassant.
I am mrwilling in this work to mention living
writers more than is necessary, but I cannot re-
frain from advising every young writer to read
Anthony Hope's "Dolly Dialogues." He will
never, probably, attain to the brightness and
flow and melody of these dialogues, but they will
show him what dialogues may be, and they will
help to lift his work out of dulness into anima-
tion.

In speaking of the short story, I have in my
mind mostly the short story of three or four
columns for the weekly magazine or newspaper.
The " Dolly Dialogues," I believe, all came out
in the Westminster Gazette. If, however, a
monthly magazine accepts a story complete in
one part, a larger canvass is offered, and the
story may run to twelve or fifteen thousand
words. But let the fundamental difference
between a novel and a short story always be
remembered : that the former is a life — or the
most important part of a life, while the latter

106 The Pen and the Book.

relates only an episode Avhich may or may not
have consequences of importance.

///. The Dramatist.

SIXTY years ago, when Douglas Jerrold was
writing plays for the London stage, there were
very few theatres. Their performances were not
attended by " serious " people, that is to say by
the middle class : no piece had a long run : the
dramatists were a small company : they were
miserably paid : and it was extremely difficult
for any oiitsider to get a piece on the stage.
There has always been a strong attraction for
minds of a certain cast towards the drama, but
-it cannot be said that there have ever been, until
quite recently, the attraction of great prizes in
the profession of playwright. Nothing is more
true than that art of every kind languishes if the
material encouragement is removed. In fiction,
for instance, there have been great prizes occasion-
ally, though there have been periods of depression.
Therefore, fiction has flourished. In order, fur-
ther, to attract the best minds to the practice of
any art there must be offered not only a few
great prizes but a large number of moderate
prizes. When, for instance, in the Thirties, the
circulating libraries all over the country collapsed
and fell, with them fell the ordinary novel. The
jc^nk and file of novelists were ruined. Dickens,
however, flourished : and so did Thackeray and

The Life of Imagination. 107

Lytton and Harrison Ains worth, and one or two
more : but the great mass of novelists perished,
and for a long time there were few aspirants
for the art of fiction.

So, for the stage, there has never been any
kind of rush ; because, until quite recently, the
work was most uncertain, and even when a piece
was accepted and successful it was poorly re-
munerated.

There is now, however, every indication that
a great deal of the best part of English imagina-
tive genius is returning to the stage. One
observes, that in consequence of the great increase
in the number of theatres, the demand for good
plays is far greater than was ever before known.
Not only in London but in all the great towns,
theatres have increased in number and in popu-
larity : the country theatres have abandoned
their old sleepy ways and their stock companies
which used to play to empty houses. I can
testify from personal reminiscence to the fidelity
of the description of the Portsmouth Theatre in
" Nicholas Nickleby," when the company usually
played to melancholy houses of a dozen spectators
or so : they are now open to travelling companies
playing the new and most popular pieces : a suc-
cessful play is not only acted on the London
stage : it is taken about the country : it is taken
to the colonies : it is taken to America. The
pecuniary position of the dramatist is thus enor-
mously improved : it is a hundredfold improved.

108 ; The Pen and the Book.

From everj performance ; by every company ;
the author now receives his royalty or his fee :
the owner and author of «, successful play, thus
performed all over the world, derives, from that
play alone, a popularity far beyond anything
possible to a dramatist like Douglas Jerrold : he
also draws, which is anotttfer point, an income
which is equal to, or greater than, that of a
highly successful barrister or physician. But he
can write, perhaps, more than one play in a year.
His income may thus already surpass, and will,
very soon, most certainly surpass, that possible
in any of the " learned " professions. * The suc-
cessful dramatist of the future will- be far more
successful, if we think of income, than will be
possible for the physician or the lawyer.

The increased demand for new. plays, the great
pecuniary value of the successful play, are two
forces which are assuredly making for the im-
provement of the drama. Another force which
is to me distinctly visible in the near future is
the decay of the novel. At present the success-
ful novelist's lines have fallen in a pleasant
place : there is, however, an enormous competi-
tion always increasing : a new publisher starts
every month : all publishers aim at getting
successful novels : and they have entered upon a
cut-throat competition with each other in the
production of new novels. Last year (1897)
there were published at one season of the year,
three or four novels every day ! Who can ex-

The Life of Imagination. 109

pect that the booksellers, whose trade is decay-
ing, though the sale of books is increasing, will
take all, or even a large, proportion, of these new
books? Who can expect that the public,
dazzled with the multitude of novels offered
them, will make any attempt to read them or
even a small part of them? Who can expect
that the reviewers, aghast at the mass of novels
before them, will successfully select those which
are important ? There is a large reading public,
growing always larger : but the public which will
buy six shilling novels is not great, and grows
slowly, t believe that 180,000 represents the
highest figure yet reached for Great Britain and
the Colonies for any one six shilling novel,
while a sale of 5,000 is thought respectable.
Therefore, bnly those novelists who have an
established reputation have any reason to be
satisfied with the substantial rewards of their
work. The novelist of the future will be rich
beyond the dreams of avarice, but he will belong
to a very, very small company. If this is the
case — and I am quite certain that it is — the re-
sult is quite sure : there will be so many dis-
appointments that the profession of novelist will,
slowly or rapidly, cease to attract : the present
swarm of story-tellers, finding that their efforts
produce neither fame nor gold, will disappear and
die like the May flies of the river-side, and
writers of imagination will turn with one accord
to the more promising line of the theatre.

110 The Pen and the Book.

Again reminding the reader that this book is
to be considered merely as an elementary intro-
duction to the subject, I would call the attention
of the young dramatist to two or three points
which he should observe at the outset.

(i). Selection, which is highly necessary for
the novel, is a point which must be even more
jealously regarded for the stage. Nothing must
be allowed to interfere with the action of the
story ; nothing that will draw attention from the
principal characters. The svibordinate plot, so
long a part of the old drama, was only used as a
foil to the real interest which it was supposed to
set off.

(ii). The dialogue must be shorter and more
to the point than in the novel. Some play-
wrights force the dialogue into artificial epigrams.
This is simply bad art. An epigram must appear
to rise naturally from the situation, and to be
uttered quite as one would expect it by the char-
acter to whom it is given.

(iii). The types presented must be clear and
unmistakable. The playgoer does not like con-
structing his character for himself : he does not
desire to take them piecemeal from indications in
the story, the situations, and the words : he likes
to have them presented to him clearly : standing
out distinct and visible. We have not yet
arrived at presenting, successfully, a psycho-
logical puzzle to after-dinner stalls.

(iv). The story should be one which is fresh ;

The Life of Imagination. Ill

that is, as fresh as can be expected : and quite
clear to the most stupid spectator. The most
popular plays — may one say the best plays ? —
have always been those in which there has been
the most perfect clearness of story, character,
and dialogue.

(v). There must, as a rule, and unless the
dramatist is contented to please one part of the
audience only, be strength of situation. A play,
unlike a novel, appeals to all classes of society at
the same time : to the stalls, which are chiefly
occupied by country people who come to the
theatre after a good hotel dinner, with copious
champagne : to the pit, the home of the bourgeois
critic : to the dress circle, filled chiefly with
ladies and their daughters : to the upper circle,
for which the shop people get orders ; and to the
gallery, filled with — I know not. Nobody has
yet explored the gallery and described its occu-
pants.

In this respect the novel is quite different.
The novelist, unconsciously perhaps, writes for
a class. Principally he writes for the middle
class to which he generally belongs : he writes
for them because they are the largest class of
readers, and because he knows their ideas, and
their views of life. If he were writing for the
classes below he would have to invent strong
situations : this would be indispensable : the
*' penny novelettes " all aim at strong situations.
In the middle classes he may, perhaps, find strong

112 The Pen and the Book.

situations — they like tableaux — or he may give
them a story which is no story — perhaps they
will take it : or talk, mere talk — perhaps they
will accept that : or so-called " analysis " of char-
acter, which is too often dreary description of
unattractive mental conditions — perhaps they
will accept the " analysis." The point is that
the novel appeals to one class, while at the theatre
the play appeals, at one and the same time, to all
classes. Imagine a novelist writing a book which
shall please and amuse at the same time, the
sporting man : the man of society : the under-
graduate : the " smart " woman : the shop girl :
the school girl : the city man : the work girl : the
poet : the artist : the divine : all at once. That
is what the dramatist has to do. All classes sit
together in the theatre and all must be interested.
Therefore, strength of situation is indispensable.
It is possible to conceive of a theatre with no
gallery, but there would still be stalls and pit,
dress circle and upper circle.

(vi.) As regards subject and treatment, the
young dramatist has a choice as wide as the
whole world of humanity : if he essays tragedy,
he has the whole of history from which to choose :
if comedy, there is the whole comedy of man ;
if a play of manners, there is the city before him
Avith all its men and women and all their passions,
ambitions, attempts, and failures. There is no
limit to his choice, except the limit imposed by
the conditions of the stage, which will not allow

The Life of Imagination. 113

everything to be represented upon it. He may
write farces, the making of which seems now
almost a forgotten art — not long ago every per-
formance began and ended with a farce. He
may attempt tragedy, but he will find few mana-
gers daring enough to put a tragedy on the
boards : he will begin with a lever de rideau, if
he is wise, and so rise to comedy, serious or far-
cical. There are abundant signs that we are
ready in comedy to depart from the old conven-
tional grooves, and to represent men and women
as they are. More than one attempt has lately
been made in this direction. I need not mention
names. It is a most healthy sign : if these
playwrights succeed the drama will be once more
lifted out of the mere conventional groove of
amusement on familiar lines, and will become
the medium of representing the world as it
is, and humanity, not in a highly artificial form
of fashionable society, but as it is, led and driven
by forces which have never been presented on
the stage since the Elizabethan drama. If the
young playwright will only dare to be unconven-
tional : if he will only go for inspiration into the
real world in which he lives, too often uncon-
scious and careless of what goes on around him,
with its ten thousand comedies and tragedies,
waiting for him, he may rise to great things.

The rush of young writers to the Stage has
already begun. The number of living dramatists
of repute, twenty years ago, could be counted on

1 14 The Pen and the Book.

the fingers of one hand. One would now require
the fingers of four hands. In fifty years' time
there will be as many dramatists as there are
now novelists ; that is to say, as many greatly
successful : as many pretty successful : and as
many trying in vain to get a hearing. In fifty
years' time the English imagination will, per-
haps, assume instinctively a dramatic form, a? it
now assumes the form of fiction : there will be
two or three hundred theatres in London and its
suburbs. Even now, a hundred would mean only
one to every 50,000 souls, without counting the
thousands of visitors. This is not an extrava-
gant proportion when we consider that the play
is becoming more and more the favourite form of
amusement.

A certain French dramatist once confessed
that he had a lot of puppets which he used in
the construction of his plays, moving them about
on a mimic stage, and placing them in groups
and tableaux. This is a practice which may be
strongly recommended to the young dramatist.
It will teach him one or two important lessons.
For instance, he will understand the necessity of
action — continual action : of movement : of pre-
senting new pictures continually : of the diffi-
culty of getting his characters on and off the
stage : it will prevent his dialogue becoming
tedious and his plot too long.

CHAPTER V.
THE EDITOR.

IT is bj many literary men believed that the
most eligible and desirable post in the whole
profession is that of Editor — whether of a daily
paper, a weekly paper, or a monthly magazine.
Not only do those writers who have long since
abandoned all hope of success in literature yearn
and pine for such a post, but even those who
have succeeded so well that they are recognised
as the leaders in their own line also desire, above
all things, to be appointed editor, with an un-
alterable conviction that their's are the gifts
which go to make the perfect editor. Dickens
was an editor : Thackeray was an editor :
Trollope was an editor : the names of half-a-
dozen living literary men will occur as having
been editors. Is there — has there been — one
single good man of letters who has been a really
successful editor ? I think not. Most have
been signal failures. For editorial ability is one
thing and literary ability is another thing. So

'116 The Pen and the Book.

that the fact of a man being distinguished in
letters is not any reason why he should be dis-
tinguished as an Editor. Formerly it was
thought that literary ability was the same thing
«s editorial ability. It is beginning to be under-
stood that this is not by any means certain : for
my own part I incline to the contrary belief,
that distinguished literary gifts are precisely
those which prevent a man from being a good
editor. For, consider. A poet or a novelist is
accustomed to rely wholly on himself : an editor
must seek out those on whom he can rely. A
poet or a novelist is one who holds opinions
strongly, and by reason of his strong imagina-
tion, cannot understand the other side : an
Editor must possess an equal mind. So that
while a poet may make a good editor, I am of
opinion that the probabilities are that he will
not.

The chief attraction of the post is probably
the sense of power which it conveys. The
Editor of an important journal is not, as a rule,
a recluse, and his social position is certainly ad-
vanced when he becomes an editor. But is it
given to every one to become a successful edi-
tor ? The difficulties of the work are certainly
great, and the responsibilities are heavy.

Let us work out some of the conditions, the
qualifications, and the difficulties attached to the
position of editor. His very first and most
obvious qualification is that he must be able to

The Editor. 117

stand outside the literary world as well as the
political, the social, the artistic, the scientific,
and the financial world. The writer — the liter-
ary man — is seldom able to stand outside : it is
part of his temperament to become a partisan":
he cherishes, more passionately than other men,
his ideas, his prejudices, his convictions. It is
with great difficulty that he avoids carrying
these ideas and convictions into everything.
Now, since the first duty of the editor is to ad-
vance his paper, he must begin by concealing
himself : he should never suffer his own personal
prejudices — though he calls them truths — to ap-
pear in his pages : he must remember that in order
to please the public he must consider what they
want and what they think, and how far his paper
will be received as a school of thought and
opinion. He must, therefore, study the wishes
of his readers rather than the views of himself
and his contributors. I have in my mind a con-
spicuous instance in which a man of remarkable
ability caused one journal after another, whose
destinies were entrusted to his keeping, to fail,
because he always thought first of his own pre-
judices— which, as I said above, he mistook for
truths — and his own contributors, who were his
personal friends, and talked the jargon of his
school. He allowed himself to be persuaded
that it was his duty to impose these views upon
the world. But the world did not want his views,
and so he failed.

118 The Pen and the Book.

The editor must, therefore, be either free from
prejudices and enthusiasms, or he must affect
freedom : he must take no account of literary
coteries, except as they interest his readers : he
must keep any suspicion of the clique out of his
paper : hundreds of papers, by the admission of
the clique, have been ruined. He must, at the
same time, be a man of broad and comprehensive
views : he should understand something — no one
can ever wholly understand it — of the direction
and the force of the stream. To lead while you
seem to follow : to guide when you seem to
accompany : is the mark of the successful and
the heaven-born editor.

He must also be quick to perceive when he
has a good thing in his hands : he must be able
to judge rapidly : he must be ready to take
pains in advising the contributor of necessary
changes. He must be always looking ahead,
devising new subjects and arranging with popular
writers. The old fashion of editing was to sit
down and pick the best out of what might be
offered. The magazine of ten years ago was too
often a selection from the dust-heap. The new
plan is to arrange all beforehand : to trust but little
to the casual contributor : to invite contributions
from known writers : and to select subjects,
while an open door is always left open in case
the casual contributor sends in something good
and unexpected.

It must be acknowledged, therefore, that it

The Editor. 119

may be very difficult to find an editor who will
meet all the requirements, and that it may be
equally difficult to be that rare creature, the
perfect editor. When one has been actually
found and proved, when, under his management,
the paper or the magazine really succeeds, he is
worth anything in the shape of gratitude, honour,
and salary, that the proprietor can bestow upon
him. But the knowledge of his existence and
his powers spreads quickly through Penmanland,
and becomes known wherever journals are pub-
lished, and editors are wanted.

If the fitness of the editor is of vital impor-
tance to the magazine, how much more important
is it to the general interests of literature ! Think
what a power is wielded by the editor of such a
journal as the Nineteenth Century or the Contem-
porary in the formation of opinion, which is the
foundation of action. Think what an active,
open-minded editor can do for any cause he
takes up : how he may reform abuses : how he
may remove causes of grievance : how he may
set things in their right light : how he may
stand manfully for principle : how, in the babble
of multitudinous voices, he may choose a man
who has a right to speak, and may set him in a
pulpit and bid him speak while the world listens.
This is a very great power, growing greater every
day. The daily paper has its own authority, but
the voice of the daily paper is apt to be heated
by the daily controversy, and the opinions of the

120 The Pen and the Book.

daily paper have to be formed on the spur of the
moment, while in a monthly magazine opinion is
more deliberate : there has been time to look on
all sides : and, perhaps, the writer chosen may
be a statesman whom the world knows and is
ready to trust.

There are, moreover, many dangers in the
post of editor : a reputation may be made : but
it may also be lost : when a man has ruined his
journal, or is believed to have ruined it, he will
certainly find it difficult to obtain the manage-
ment of another. And the work of editor puts the
man outside the ordinary grooves of writing and
journalism : the old place is filled up : younger
men come trampling in : the position of a man
of fifty or forty who has failed as an editor and
seeks work of the old kind is most unfortunate
and almost hopeless. One who has been in com-
mand does not like to go back into the ranks.
With all these considerations, it is, as I said
above, truly remarkable that not only men who
have failed yearn after the position of editor, but
also men who have succeeded : men who cannot
believe that their own position is really better
than that of any editor : men who have gained all
that a writer could desire in original work and
yet hanker after the really subordinate and in-
ferior position of an editor.

Fortunately, the gods do not grant men all
their prayers.

CHAPTER VI.

IN THE EMPLOYMENT OF A PUBLISHER.

A GREAT many persons carry on the Literary
life in the employment of a publisher. Thus,
to begin with, there are generally going on some
great works ; an Encyclopaedia : a Dictionary of
Classical Antiquities ; of Art ; of Music ; of
Science ; of the Bible ; of Geography ; of Bi-
ography ; all such works demand, first of all, a
publisher with the command of a large capital';
next, an editor of great judgment, and then a
staff of scholars and specialists. There are also
produced from time to time series scientific,
literary, biographical, and otherwise, which also
require the work of scholars and specialists. The
writing of these works is generally an aid to
the professor and the lecturer. Indeed, the
amount of current literature projected by pub-
lishers and requiring the co-operation of special-
ists is very large. The Encyclopedia Britannica
alone in each successive edition has offered a
vast quantity of work to specialists ; and with it

122 The Pen and the Book.

the honour of contributing to such an enterprise,
and very considerable sums of money for the
work. There are, next, houses where a great
quantity of books, chiefly of the popular kind,
are published, which engage writers to work
for them either on salaries or by the "job."
Some of these houses run a large number of
cheap magazines and journals. Every one of
these papers demands all the time and all the
thought of one man, the editor. His qualifica-
tions have been already considered.

A post greatly desired by many is that of
reader and adviser. It is a singular fact that in
the literary world there are many persons pro-
fessing to lead the Literary life, who actually
dislike the work of writing. Some of these are
dissatisfied with their own work ; a greater num-
ber dislike the pains of travail and the labour of
correction. These are the people who so ardently
desire the post of editor, and if they cannot
attain to it, wish to become what is next in im-
portance in their minds — reader and adviser
to a publisher. Qualifications very similar to
those required by an editor are wanted for a
reader. He is very difficult to obtain. It by
no means follows that a good writer makes a
good reader. Quite the contrary, in my opinion.
The modern history of Literature is full of
stories about the rejection of MSS., afterwards
proved to be masterpieces, which were scornfully
refused by one reader after another. The

In a Publisher s Employment. 123

repetition and the remembrance of such stories
form the chief solace of the unsuccessful. They
tell each other tales how this great man hawked
his MS. about from house to house : and how
another great man had his MS. returned after
many days. Readers, in fact, are very fallible ;
but chiefly because they are not appointed and
chosen with judgment. Even when a reader is
the best procurable, he is more fallible than
most " buyers " in other trades, and that by the
very nature of the work. He is called upon to
give an opinion of the work before him from a
wholly commercial point of view. The publisher
naturally wants to know of a MS. if it will sell :
the reader, being generally a scholar with
standards and ideals, considers the MS. before
him from the literary as well as the commercial
point of view. Of course he is anxious not to
land his employer in a loss : on the other hand
he is a literary man and he cannot choose but
consider the literary side. There is no reason
to doubt the perfect honesty of the reader : he
means to give the soundest judgment possible
from both points of view ; too often, however,
he fails to understand the commercial value of
the MS. Too often he makes the same mistake
as the bad editor : he imports into the business
his own views of what literature ought to be :
he makes the mistake of considering himself and
his own prejudices, which, also like the bad edi-
tor, he calls " truths " : he confuses his function

124 The Pen and the Book.

with that of the judge, and pronounces on the
kind of literature that should be produced.
Like the bad editor, this reader does not ask
what the public wants, but what he himself
wants ; and his taste is very seldom so wide as
the taste of the public. Above all things, as
should always be borne in mind by writer,
reader, and critic, the public desire to be inter-
ested. Whatever the nature of the book —
whether it is a sermon, or a poem, or a play, or
an essay, or a story, they want to be " held " by
the writer: they want to be "held" as with a
vice, while the author speaks to them. Occa-
sional faults of style or of taste they can forgive
if they feel the grip of a strong hand. This
is the great fact that the reader too often
ignores. He is liable, by his own literary
qualities — his own scholarship — his own fine
taste, perhaps — to demand his own standards
Tof style, and to be unduly hurt by what should
be little pin prickings of bad style here and
there. The reader, as much as the editor,
should understand that the first, the second,
the whole secret of popularity, is attractiveness.
This attractiveness, or charm, a quality in-
capable of definition, is far more the character-
istic of genius than the possession of a style in
the very newest manner, or of taste, which
may be perfect, and may also be cold and re-
pellent. This charm is possessed alike by John
Bunyan — an illiterate man ; by Addison — a

In a Publisher s Employment. 125

fine scholar ; by Robert Burns, a peasant ; by
Cowper, a gentleman. You cannot define it,
or analyse it, or even describe it. You can
only recognise it. If a publisher gets hold of a
MS. which really does possess this charm he has
got hold of a good thing. If his reader fails to
perceive the quality of charm on account of
certain defects in the style he may be the most
honest reader in the world, but he is incom-
petent. A reader, like an editor, must be
ready to stand outside his own prejudices. In a
word, a good reader is an invaluable person, like
a good editor ; an incompetent reader may be
a most mischievous person, like a bad editor.
And just as very few possess the qualifications
that form a good editor, so the qualifications
which form a good reader are equally rare and
exceptional. Above all, his most valuable
qualification is the power of understanding and
distinguishing the points in a work which may
make it popular. To repeat, he is not called
upon to teach the public, but to recognise the
public.

The position of reader or adviser is in some
publishers' houses united with that of editor.
This arrangement appears economical ; it is, on
the other hand, most mischievous. The duties
of one differ widely from those of the other ; the
editor should have his whole time free for his
magazine : the work of reading MSS. and ad-
vising upon them is hard and wearing, particu-

126 The Pen and the Book.

larly when, as often happens, a MS. seems to lie
on the border-line of success. As a general rule
readers are engaged and paid by a separate fee,
sometimes very small, for every MS. entrusted
to them for an opinion. In some houses, how-
ever, there are readers or advisers retained at a
fixed salary, like an editor.

Where there is an education branch, an ad-
viser should know what books are used in the
various schools, and what chance there is of a
new venture in any line : also what influence an
educational writer can command ; what books
have been so long before the public that their
life may be considered nearly finished. An
educational book is not allowed to live more than
a certain number of years. /This kind of adviser
is, in fact, a specialist.

It is well known, again, that many publishers
have issued series of books — such as Men of
Action ; Men of Adventure ; Men of Letters,
etc., some of which have been successful. It is
the part of a publisher's adviser to keep himself
acquainted not only with what is published by
other houses, but with the success achieved, and
the subjects suggested by success or failure. An
adviser hits upon a series likely to attract the
public and suggests it to a publisher. His in-
vention is adopted and carried out ; the firm,
however, by which the adviser's services have
been retained for a small salary, take care that
he shall never be allowed to learn what his in-

In a Publisher s Employment. 127

vention has produced. This seems a hardship,
but it is a rule in every kind of business that a
paid servant has no right to share in profits, and
that he has no right to ask what those profits
have been.

Of late years, many publishers have made it a
rule, whether they employ readers or not, never
to accept a MS. finally until they have them-
selves read it. The old-fashioned illiterate pub-
lisher is now nearly extinct ; most of the new
kind are as well educated as other people and, in
many cases, are University men and scholars.
This change should be advantageous to the best
interests of literature ; it should lead to the de-
termination of the leaders to lift the business of
publishing out of the old bad* grooves of trading
on the ignorance of the author. It has not yet
done so. Still, we may be allowed to hope.
Meantime, the publisher's reader has his opinions
supplemented and examined by the publisher*
himself; he has become, in fact, the mere
"taster." One consequence of this change is
satisfactory : fewer mistakes will be made ; the
man whose actual livelihood depends upon the
correctness of his judgment quickly develops and
sharpens that judgment. A man, he will under-
stand, cannot make a fortune out of his business
unless he considers his customers before himself.
The reader, therefore, must remember the kind
of work that is expected by him should he obtain
employment for a publisher's house. It stands to

128 The Pen and the Book.

reason that he will also be expected to observe a
certain loyalty towards this house, and to speak
well of it, and to recommend it. The official
recommendation of his employers because he
takes their money and eats their bread, may be
sometimes, if he gets behind the scenes, a bitter
pill to swallow. Not always, however. And
recent experience has proved that there are
writers base enough to approve of deceptions
practised on other writers.

To work for a publisher as reader and adviser,
or as editor, is an occupation as honourable and
as laudable as any other. Such a man must not
be called a publisher's hack. The poor wretch
of the last century who was always employed in
compiling books ; in plundering and blundering ;
who could work you up a voyage to New Guinea,
neat, workmanlike, and^full of adventures, never
having been beyond Greenwich, or a new trans-
lation from the Chinese, knowing nothing of the
language, was, if you please, a publisher's hack.
He, however, is an almost extinct animal. The
last of the noble company of bookmakers died
some ten years ago. Yet there is a publisher's
hack still existing, though he no longer makes
bad and sham books ; he has an office —or part
of one — and a salary, though a small one. His
business is to put books through the press ; to
look after the illustrations ; to cut out from the
press notices "bits" that may be quoted in
advertisements : to write the preface or the in-

In a Publisher's Employment. 129

troduction ; to prepare the index ; there is plenty
for him to do. But, it must be confessed, the
occupation is hardly elevating ; it is little above
menial work ; it is poorly paid : it leads to
nothing ; the position, the work, the pay, and
the chances of a publisher's employe are no
better than those of a clerk in a merchant's
office, and, in most cases, of a clerk in the house
of a small merchant.

Why, indeed, should they be ?

Another kind of work for a publisher is that
of " tout." There are persons in the literary
world who are not ashamed to "tout " secretly for a
publisher, and to be paid for every author whom
they may introduce. One need not waste time
in characterizing the nature of this employment.
The fact that it is secret stamps it as degrading.
It is not, however, believed that there are many
men of letters engaged in this unworthy way of
making money.

It is sometimes believed that there is a great
deal of work to be done for publishers in what
is called " Research " : that is, in hunting up
information of various kinds. This kind of work,
however, is more in demand by writers than by
publishers. In the preparation of books of
history or of biography there is a continual
necessity to look up references ; to copy pas-
sages ; verify quotations ; and examine extracts.
This work is mostly carried on in the British
Museum, and by ladies. It is, however, pre-

130 The Pen and the Book.

carious, and there are already too many engaged
upon it. Many beginners think that they may
get translation work to do. Let them abandon
that hope. There is very little translation work :
of all the books published every year few indeed
are translations. In some cases, when French
novels have been published at a very low price
the translator's pay has been wretched. I know
of a case in which five pounds was paid for
translating a whole volume. No one could
possibly live by such work at such pay, even if
it were continuous.

I have now gone through most of the work
which may be had in connection with a pub-
lisher's office. I have omitted the artistic side
because it cannot be contended that the artist
belongs to the Literary life. And I have
omitted as well the purely commercial side ; that
of the accountants, the travellers, the advertis-
ing, the buying of paper, the arrangements with
printer and with bookbinder.

Therefore, a man or woman of letters may
edit, may read, may advise, may see through the
press, may recommend, suggest, or invent ; may
feel the pulse of the public ; may do the
drudgery of the press work ; may conduct re-
search, and may one way or another make a
reasonably good living, and an honourable living,
by this kind of work. But he must not become
a "tout." No one with any self-respect will
" tout " for a publisher. When all is told, such

In a Publisher's Employment. 131

work is not writing. It is surely better to feel
that one actually belongs to the noble company
of writers than to the less noble company of
those who belong to the ranks of literature, but
do not write. In the same way, attached to
every army are the commissariat staff; the am-
bulance and the medical staff; the sutlers and
the " service " ; but it is always more honourable
to fight in the ranks than it is to follow the
army, even at the head of any other branch.

BOOK II.
CHAPTER I. — THE COMMERCIAL SIDE.

IT is sometimes pretended that it is degrading to
consider money in connection with literary work.
Many publishers feel so strongly on this subject
that they are desirous to keep the author free
from any such degradation, and to suffer them-
selves alone to be degraded. From one point of
view the prejudice shews a sense of the sacred-
ness of literature as something which should not
be in the least mixed up with mercenary motives.
Yet Milton did not disdain the few pounds which
were given him for his Paradise Lost, while later
on the example of Dryden, Pope, Steele, John-
son, Goldsmith, Fielding, Smollett and others,
ought to have removed this prejudice long ago.
It is now the pretence and sham of those to
whom literary property is unattainable. I have
already (p. 3) dwelt upon the necessity of
separating the literary from the commercial
value.

General Considerations. 133

It is remarkable that the same prejudice has
never been entertained with regard to any other
form of intellectual effort or achievement. The
painter, the sculptor, the designer, the architect,
che actor, the scholar, the divine, tlje engineer,
the inventor, the electrician, the chemist, the
physicist, the musician, the composer, the singer,
every kind of worker might blamelessly acquire
by his work as much money as was attainable.
Every kind of worker — except the author. He
is degraded by the mere mention of money in
connection with his work. All other professors
are allowed to make as much money as they
could, and are applauded for doing so. But
not the professor of literature. Or, if we may
consider literature as a trade and not a profes-
sion, every other trade may make, laudably, as
much money as it can. But not literature.

Who are the people who talk this nonsense ?

They are chiefly the unsuccessful writers.
Not necessarily bad writers, but writers not
popular. Their books may be very good, but
they are not popular. Therefore these writers,
in order to maintain their self-respect, pretend
that they are above any consideration of money.
Many writers of undoubted genius, they point
out, with perfect truth, have not been popular.
Since they also cannot make any money, it
stands to reason, of course, that they themselves
belong to the company of genius. This con-
soles. It does more : it elevates : it places

134 The Pen and the Book.

them on the heights where the unpopular Pro-
phet despises money : it enables them to talk
about the degradation of literature when it
touches money. As for that question why
literature may not do what all other professions
are encouraged to do, there has never been any
answer offered at all. Or, again, as to that
question why Milton, Dryden, Pope, Johnson,
Goldsmith, Fielding, Smollett, Wordsworth,
Byron, Southey, Scott, Dickens, Thackeray,
George Eliot, Tennyson, and the whole noble
army have never felt any degradation in accept-
ing as much money as they could get by their
works, there is no answer forthcoming.

The only rational objection to writers making
money by their work applies equally to artists
and men of science and all who work with the
brain. They may be tempted to work too fast
and too much ; to work with the view of making
money without regard to their literary stand-
ards. That as has been well said, is the damna-
tion of the cheque. It carries with it, indeed, a
sure and certain damnation : it kills the writer.
As for the mere compilation of books, it has now
become an almost extinct profession ; men write
out of the fulness of their knowledge ; books
not of imagination or observation are written by
specialists : the old-fashioned plunderer-blun-
derer has now become a very rare bird indeed.

Let us now proceed to consider what is
meant by the commercial side of literature ; in

General Considerations. 135

other words, by literary property. How, then,
do men and women of labour live ?

(i). By writing for magazines and journals. {

The monthly magazine of the better class pays
as a rule a guinea a page : I have heard that
this scale of pay has recently been reduced in
one or two of them. Writers whose work is in
demand obtain, of course, if the editor desires
their names, very much higher terms. The page
varies in length from five hundred to a thousand
words. An article is generally from eight to
twelve pages in length. It will, therefore, be
paid for, probably, by a cheque of as many
guineas. Unless a writer possesses very wide
knowledge, or special knowledge, of a kind that
is much in demand, he can hardly expect to live
by writing for magazines.

Editors of magazines are continually offered
critical literary papers. Now, the literary paper
can be reeled off to order in quite workmanlike
guise by any literary man of scholarship. Yet
there are not a dozen living men who can pro-
duce a critical paper really worth reading ;
that is to say, presenting new and instructive
views. But the average public cares next to no-
thing for these papers : it is even a sign of decay «v
when a magazine cumbers i^s pages with them,
because it shows that the editor is taking the easier
and the cheaper line. The man who thinks to make
his way with such papers will find that he ?s
entering a small and decaying market filled with

136 The Pen and the Book.

competitors. If we turn GO fiction, on the other
hand, we find that all the magazines, except three
or four, have a serial novel always running, and
other short stories in every number. The pay-
ment for a serial to run for a year depends partly
on the reputation of the writer and partly on the
position of the magazine. If the writer is not a
popular novelist, he will be offered from £50 to
£200 for the English serial right. If he is a man of
great name, he will, of course, command a very
much higher price. Let him take care, however,
lest he fall into the trap that will probably be
laid for him, and part with all other rights at the
same time for the same small sum.

The weekly periodicals, the penny papers, call
aloud continually for stories — stories — stories —
their scale of pay to writers is in most cases
humble. Some of them, however, have an enor-
mous circulation, and pay very well. The
writer of a short story may be offered by one of
these journals from a few shillings to three or
four guineas for a story of three or four columns.
A story-teller with a fairly wide connection
among editors may take in this way from £50 to
£150 a year. The pay is not grand ; but then
the work itself is not grand ; a great many people
can do it, and can attain the level of interest and
of style which is wanted : the supply is always
much greater than the demand. I would point
out to young people in situations of any kind
that it will be far better for them to go on with

General Considerations. 137

their daily work contentedly : to give the even-
ing or the early morning to their writing ; and
to supplement their salaries in this way rather
than to exchange a certainty, however small, for
the work of writing stories for penny weeklies.
In the latter case the necessity of continually
grinding out short stories is harassing and de-
grading ; in the former the work of writing
stories as they seem to " come " — they mostly
have to be looked for — has about it a spon-
taneous air which adds to one's self-respect,
while it may be, thus treated, the most delightful
of all occupations.

Since literary criticism is in small demand ;
since poetry has but small commercial value;
since it is the desire of all editors to fill their
magazines with such papers as can only be
written by specialists, or are occasional papers
of adventure, travel, and general experiences ;
it follows that a writer cannot live by contribut-
ing to magazines, except in the way of fiction.

Let us consider next, fiction outside the
magazines.

It will be best to put aside at once, as untrust-
worthy, most of what appears in certain papers as
to the large fortunes made by the writing of fiction.
Novelists do not, as a rule, reveal to the world their
returns ; nor do publishers, except by way of
advertisement. The reader must understand
also that, out of the enormous number of novels
put into the field, very few indeed attain to any-

138 The Pen and the Book.

thing like a considerable success. It is the
belief of many that when a writer has produced
a novel he has made his fortune and may " com-
mand his own terms." The latter phrase is very
common among those who know nothing. As a
fact, a large proportion of the novels issued are
produced at their own expense by writers, who
very, very seldom get their money back ; a great
number are produced by the publishers in confi-
dence based on experience, that the books will at
least pay their expenses with some margin over.
There is no risk, or very little, with these books ;
but there is commonly very little profit. In
other words, if these novels which you see adver-
tised, with so many laudatory " press opinions "
after their names, manage to arrive at a meagre
sale of six hundred copies, they have, in fact,
paid their expenses and left a small margin over.
There are three or four stages in the progress
of the novelist, unless he leaps at one bound upon
the stage of Fame.

1. The bookseller will not, at first, " stock "
his book. Thus, but for the circulating libraries,
which take a few, it would fall dead.

2. It reaches a circulation of six hundred
copies or so, with the meagre result of that
small margin.

3. An edition of two thousand copies is prac-
tically sold off. This number seems to mark the
next upward step. With this edition the demand
ceases. This means, as we shall presently see, a

General Considerations. 139

return of about £200 over and above the cost of
production and advertising.

4. A circulation of from five thousand to ten
thousand copies. This marks a very consider-
able popularity. There are very few novelists
who can expect so large a circulation.

5. What is commonly called a " boom," that
is to say, a great and simultaneous demand for
many thousands. " Trilby " is the leading case
of a " boom." But one need hardly consider a
" boom," because it is, in the nature of things,
very rare and most uncertain. No one can ex-
plain why the public is attracted with one con-
sent by any book. It happens, as a rule, not
more than once in the life of any author, and it
often happens, further, that it is not that author's
best work which proves so attractive, but a work
much below his best.

In another chapter (p. 145), I will give cer-
tain figures as to the cost of production and the
proceeds of novels. Meantime the reader may
accept an assurance that novel-writing, if one is
successful, may become a highly profitable busi-
ness by the English volume right alone, provided
the author knows how to treat with his publisher.
He can only do this properly if he learns and
carefully keeps in his mind the figures which
will presently be given.

But the working of a novel means a great
deal more than the English volume rights alone.
It may mean :

140 The Pen and the Book.

1. The English serial right.

2. The American serial right.

3. The right of translation.

4. The English volume right.

5. The American volume right.

6. The Colonial rights. (These are at present
somewhat doubtful.)

7. The Continental right.

8. The Dramatic right.

Every one of these rights belongs to the
author, not to the publisher, and should be
guarded carefully and treated separately. In
other words, every one of these rights, when an
author is in demand, has its own possible and
distinct value, though some may be small. You
must bear in mind very carefully the existence
of these rights ; and you must be prepared to
find your publisher, in his agreement, advancing
claims upon these rights ichich you must rigidly
strike out. What these are likely to be will be
exposed in following pages.

(iii). Educational books.

These, if they become popular, are certainly
the most valuable kind of literary property.
There are educational writers who make thou-
sands a year by their school books. As a rule,
however, they have no notion what their pub-
lishers make, a point to which I shall return
later on (p. 174). Books published for Board
schools, if they are adopted, may go off by the mil-
lion. Books in use by the lower forms of public

General Considerations. 141

schools have an enormous sale. The writer of
educational books must of a necessity be himself
a teacher. Moreover, he must be as a rule, a
man of repute in his own line.

(iv). Of the Drama.

I have already spoken of the Dramatist. He
practises an art in which success is most difficult
because the new writer so seldom gets a chance.
It is the hardest thing in the world to get a new
piece by a new writer on the stage. When a
piece succeeds it is paid for by a fee for every
performance, or by a percentage on the receipts,
when it succeeds greatly it is carried round by
country companies, by American companies, by
Colonial companies. And the writer at a single
step may become one of the spoiled children of
Fortune.

We need not here consider other writers —
scientific, technical, historical, theological, philo-
sophical, medical, and the rest. The writers
generally belong to the literary life by writing
one or two such books. They are professors,
lecturers, teachers of all kinds. Such books may
have a great commercial value, and they may
have no commercial value at all. It depends on
the name and reputation of the author, and on
the character of the subject, whether it is one in
demand or not. For instance, there cannot be a
more scientific subject than Advanced Mathema-
tics, and hardly any which may find a smaller
public. Again, the greatest authority on Zoology

144 The Pen and the Book.

should be that of a bishop ; and the writer of
novels which fly over the whole world, and
should give him the income of a successful
physician.

This is what is meant by literary property, and
the time has come when the world should know
what it means, and how the creator and owner of
it should defend it ; how real a thing it is ; and
how jealously it should be defended.

CHAPTER II.
THE COST or PRODUCTION.

THE chapters which follow are of extreme im-
portance to every author in every branch of
literature. The person who writes a book has
created a possible property : this is the key-note
of all that follows : it may be a property of great
value, which will continue to retain its value as
long as the legal time of copyright lasts ; it may
be a property of great value for a short time
only ; it may be a property of very small value ;
or even a property of no value at all. In any
case it is the property of the author and creator.
Of that fact there can be no question at all.
The pretensions of publishers over literary
property have gone far ( as witness their " Draft
Agreements,") but they have stopped short of
claiming the author's MS. as their own absolute
property as a right.

At the outset, the hitherto in experienced
reader wiU please to dismiss from his mind all
preconceived ideas about publishers : it has been
a custom of the trade, and, I suppose, will

144 The Pen and the Book.

should be that of a bishop ; and the writer of
novels which fly over the whole world, and
should give him the income of a successful
physician.

This is what is meant by literary property, and
the time has come when the world should know
what it means, and how the creator and owner of
it should defend it ; how real a thing it is ; and
how jealously it should be defended.

CHAPTER II.

THE COST OF PRODUCTION.

THE chapters which follow are of extreme im-
portance to every author in every branch of
literature. The person who writes a book has
created a possible property : this is the key-note
of all that follows : it may be a property of great
value, which will continue to retain its value as
long as the legal time of copyright lasts ; it may
be a property of great value for a short time
only ; it may be a property of very small value ;
or even a property of no value at all. In any
case it is the property of the author and creator.
Of that fact there can be no question at all.
The pretensions of publishers over literary
property have gone far (as witness their "Draft
Agreements,") but they have stopped short of
claiming the author's MS. as their own absolute
property as a right.

At the outset, the hitherto inexperienced
reader will please to dismiss from his mind all
preconceived ideas about publishers : it has been
a custom of the trade, and, I suppose, will

146 The Pen and the Book.

always be the endeavour of the trade, to pose as
the unselfish patrons of literature, and, therefore,
of literary men : as disinterested producers of
books, by the sale of which they constantly lose
large sums of money. The reader must under-
stand that all this is mere u trade " talk : it
should no longer impose upon anybody. Pub-
lishers are purely and simply men of business :
there is no reproach in this statement ; they
publish in order to make money ; exactly like
all other men in business, they work to make
money : they deal with authors as they deal
with booksellers, and as they deal with printers,
paper-makers, binders, solely with the view
of making money by the transaction. This
statement, if you think of it, stands to reason.
When a man's livelihood, or his comfort, de-
pends upon the successful conduct of his busi-
ness, it is naturally absurd to suppose that he
will be guided by any other motive than the
determination to achieve success. And, if dis-
honesty can be practised with impunity, while a
few will be restrained from dishonesty by scruples
of honour, the majority will not.

If these considerations are borne in mind, the
reader may be saved, perhaps, from grievous
pecuniary loss ; perhaps from rude awakenings.
I would say to a young writer, " When you enter
a publisher's shop ; when you send him a MS. ;
you become, like all the other persons engaged
in the production of a book, a man to be "bested ; "

The Cost of Production. 147

he will exercise his most earnest endeavours to
get jour property into his own hands on the best
terms possible for himself. Expect no other
consideration ; weigh everything that he says
with the knowledge that this is his one object ;
accept all courtesies and flatteries as designed to
win your confidence ; prepare yourself, therefore,
at the outset, if you can, by ascertaining what
publishing actually means, or, if you cannot,
place yourself in the hands of some skilled person
who does know. Do not be deluded by the
champagne and the lunch he may offer you. Do
not be taken in by plausible words and plausible
manners ; do not on any account without advice
accept as plain truth any or every statement that
he may make : and, ABOVE ALL THINGS, do not
sign any agreement without the advice of persons
who are skilled.

Who are " skilled persons ?" The reader
probably believes that the ordinary solicitor is
such a person. As a rule, the ordinary solicitor
knows absolutely nothing at all about the subject
of publishing. He is worse than useless. The
methods of publishing are not mentioned in the
books which he has had to study ; there is no ex-
amination in the subject ; the only skilled persons
are the Secretary of the Society of Authors ;
one or two members of his committee ; and one
or two literary agents — mind — only one or two.
Many so-called literary agents are in complete
ignorance of the real points at issue and will only

148 The Pen and the Book.

give you away : one or two are said to be
actually in the pay of publishers. Now a
literary agent who takes money from publishers
is a traitor of the very worst kind. The two
principal points of study are — (1). The cost of
production, and (2) the prices given for books
by the retail trade. In other words, you can
only find out what a publisher's proffered agree-
ment means by knowing (1) what a book costs to
produce, and (2) what the publisher gets for it
from the bookseller. It is absolutely necessary,
if you would know the nature of the offer which
a publisher is making you, that you should learn,
approximately, both these points ; or, at least,
which is perhaps better still, that you should be
in a position to command access to information
on these points.

In the following pages I propose to place this
power of informing yourself in your hands.

1. THE COST OF PRODUCTION.

This means (i) the cost of "composition," z'.e.,
setting up the type ; (ii) the cost of "printing,"
called also "machining" or "working"; (iii)
the cost of " moulding," which is the first step
towards "stereotyping " ; (iv) the cost of paper ;
(v) the cost of binding ; and (vi) the cost of
advertising. The cost of "corrections" is also
a part of the cost of production. Perhaps that
of typewriting, too, ought to fall under this
head. As yet, however, publishers have ingeni-

The Cost of Production. 149

ously managed to make typewriting fall upon
the author's shoulders, though the process enor-
mously diminishes the " corrections," and saves
a great deal of money on the printer's bill.

To these are sometimes added the " fancy "
items — all the charges that a rich imagination
can invent — " incidental expenses " ; postage ;
" gilt lettering " ; " making a block " ; or " office
expenses."

2. THE COMPOSITION OR SETTING UP OF

THE TYPE.

The setting up of the type means the employ-
ment of the printer for so many hours in setting
up and in distributing the type used in printing
a book.

The "sheet" is reckoned sometimes as of
16 pp., but, of late, more frequently as of 32 pp.

The " machining " or " printing " is, like the
composition, charged by the sheet.

3. THE MOULDING AND STEREOTYPING.

After the book has been printed, the type is
moulded if there is any expectation of a second
edition. " Moulding " means taking a plaster
cast of the type used for the printing, to be set
aside and kept, so that the type may be released
and distributed. It is done at a cost of 4/6 or
5/- for a sheet of 16 pp.

When the second edition is called for, the
moulding is " stereotyped," that is to say, stereo-
type plates are made from the mould and used

150 The Pen and the Booh.

for printing. The cost of stereotyping is gener-
ally about 7/6 to 8/6 a sheet of 16 pp. It varies
somewhat with the size of the page.

Moulding should be a charge on the first edi-
tion : stereotyping on the second.

4. PAPER.

The next charge is for paper, which is now
very cheap, and apparently becoming cheaper
every year. It costs about 2£d. or 2|d. a Ib.
The cost of paper will be gathered from the
examples which follow. Sometimes it is charged
at so much the sheet, but the more common method
is to charge by the pound weight.

5. BINDING.

The next consideration is the cost of binding.
A plain and serviceable one, quite as good as that
used by publishers for general purposes costs £15
a thousand, or 3|d. a volume. Perhaps it would
be well to set down the charge for quite plain
binding of an 8vo. book, at this sum ; for larger
books in proportion, say 6d. or 8d.

6. CORRECTIONS.

The meaning of corrections is this. They are
charged at the rate of a shilling an hour, or, in
some cases, fifteen pence, for the work of each
printer employed. Now it is extremely diffi-
cult to say how many words a compositor can
alter in a given time. If the author corrects
so as to " over-run," z'.<?., to alter the line and
carry on part of it into the next and following

The Cost of Production. 151

lines, he may cause an alteration of the whole
page, line by line, down to the end of the para-
graph and even beyond it. If he does this he
very materially increases the cost of correction.
It is thus most difficult to check the charge for
corrections. The only method which will enable
the author to check approximately this' item, is
for him to preserve carefully the first proofs,
with his corrections upon them, and to insist
upon receiving them back with his revise.

7. ADVERTISING,

The cost of advertising is a very serious con-
sideration. Every book must be advertised. But
where ? And to what extent ?

The advertisement of a book must bear some
reference to its actual and its possible sale. This
elementary fact is constantly forgotten by authors,
especially when they accuse publishers of not
advertising their books sufficiently. Thus a book
which at best commands a very limited sale can-
not " bear " more advertising than is necessary to
announce it.

The advertisement of a book by a popular au-
thor sure of a large circulation calls for an outlay
upon advertising which need not be large, and in
any case it is sfcaall in proportion to the circulation.

The best medium for advertising is the daily
paper. There are also one or two weekly papers
which are useful.

The author must always demand details of
the advertisements charged on the accounts ren-

152 The Pen and the Book.

dered. He must refuse absolutely to pay any-
thing for advertisements in the publisher's own
organs, except the mere cost of setting up and
printing — a few pence. Nor must he pay for
advertisements which are only exchanges. That
is to say, a publisher who runs a monthly maga-
zine may exchange advertisements with a brother
who runs another. For this exchange he has no
right to charge. The reader is carefully warned
on this point. The Society of Authors has
twice taken counsel's opinion on this point, which
is to the effect that a publisher has no right to
charge for advertisements in his own organs,
except for the cost of setting up the type.

The following table shows what is meant by
the cost of advertising reduced to a charge on
every volume : —

If 500 copies are sold the expenditure of £10
means — for each volume ... 4^d.

If 1,000 „ „ „ „ ... 2fd.

If 2,000 „ „ „ „ ... lid.

If 5,000 „ „ „ „ ... £d.

If 10,000 „ „ „ „ ... id.

This little table proves that extensive adver-
tising on a book with a limited sale is impossible,
because it increases so enormously the cost of
production. For instance, suppose that the cost
of production of such a book is £50 for a small
edition of five hundred ; this means 2/- a volume.
If the trade price is 3/6, this allows a margin of
1/6 a copy. If £10 be spent on advertisements,
the cost of production becomes 2/44 a copy, so

The Cost of Production. 153

that the margin becomes 1/1^. If £20 be spent
in advertising, the cost becomes 2/9f, and the
margin becomes 8|d., and so on. Another con-
sideration is that advertisements do not b y them-
selves cause a book to "go." The circulating
libraries are far more useful than any advertising
columns. They introduce a book. The readers
do the rest ; for they talk about a book. As
soon as it is talked about, and not till then, the
demand begins. The publisher, also, if he is in a
large way, has his circulars. He can advertise
his books in these organs ; and he exchanges
with other publishers.

8. ILLUSTRATIONS.

There are so many processes and methods of
illustration, that it is quite impossible to define
the cost of illustrating a book. Lithography
cannot be used for letterpress illustrations.
Photogravure is now the most common method
of illustrating a book. The drawings must be
first made— which may cost a great deal ; or* the
photograph must first be taken, which costs very
little indeed. The cost of the blocks varies from
sixpence to a shilling the square inch.

9. EXTRAS.

Under the head of extras a great many charges
may take place. For instance, if an author uses
words in a foreign language or in foreign char-
acter, as Hebrew, Arabic, Greek, he will find
every word charged separately, unless these words
have been considered in the general estimate.

154 The Pen and the Book.

Notes at the side or the foot are charged extra.
Tabular work is an extra.
Mathematical work requires a separate estimate.
Different kinds of type are an extra.
The index is an extra.

Second titles, dedications, &c., on a single page
are charged as if the whole page was printed.

After these explanations let us return to the
book before us.

With this introduction the reader will be pre-
pared to consider the following actual estimates,
which I am enabled to produce. It must be
remembered that a publisher would get lower
estimates, because he would buy paper in large
quantities, and cloth for binding by the acre.

I have given a good many examples, first, for
the different kinds of type and page : next, to
show the differences among printers. I hope my
readers will study these figures carefully, and learn
for themselves what a book really costs to produce.

I. Book of 272 pp., 253 words to a page, small
pica type, sheet of 16 pp., 500 copies only.

£ s. d.
Composition, 17 sheets at 22/6 ... 19 2 6

Printing, 1 7 sheets at 5/3 493

Paper, 8£ reams at 15/- 6 7 6

Moulding only, at 5/- 450

Binding, 4d. ... ... ... ... 868

£42 10 11
Stereotyping at 8/- a sheet.

The Cost of Production. 155

II. Book of 20 sheets, 320 pp., 339 words to
a page, long primer type, 1,000 copies.

£ s. d.
Composition, 20 sheets at 26/- ... 26 0 0

Printing, 20 sheets at 8/6 8 10 0

Paper at 15/- 15 0 0

Moulding, at 5/- ... 500

Binding, at 3£d. ... 1411 8

£69 1 8
Stereotyping, at 8/- a sheet.

III. For 800 copies of a book in demy 8vo.,pica
type, 25 sheets, 281 words and 32 lines to a page.

£ s. d.

Composition, 25 sheets at 2 1/- ... 26 5 0

Printing, 25 sheets at 9/6 11 17 6

Paper, 12£ reams at 20/- • 1210 0

Moulding only, 6/- ... 7 10 0

Binding, at 6d 20 0 0

£78 2 6

IV. Small pica, 20 sheets, 22 lines to a page,
288 words in a page, 1,000 copies.

£ s. d.
Composition, 20 sheets of 16 pp., at

20/- 20 0 0

Printing, 20 sheets of 16 pp. at 8/- . 800
Paper, „ „ „ 14/- . 14 0 6

Binding, at 34/- per 100 vols., just

over 4d. each ... ... ... 17 0 0

Moulding, 20 sheets at 4/6 4 10 0

Stereotyping, at 7/6... ' 7 10 0

£71 0 0

156 The Pen and the Book.

V. A second edition of 3,000 copies.

£ s. d.
Printing, 20 sheets of ,

16 pp. at 16/- ... 1600
Paper,at42/-asheet 42 0 0
Binding, at 34/- per

100 copies ... 51 0 0

£109 0 0 i.e., 8*d. a copy.

VI. A second edition of 10,000 copies.

£ s. d.
Printing 20 sheets at

35/- 35 0 0

Paper 140 0 0

Binding, £15 per

1,000 150 0 0

£325 0 0 i.e., 7fd. a copy.

VII. A book of 20 sheets, 16 pp. to a sheet,
23 lines or 184 words to a page. Edition, 500

copies.

£ s. d.
Composition, 20 sheets, 16 pp., at

13/3 a sheet 13 5 0

Printing, 20 sheets, 16 pp., at 7/- a

sheet 700

Paper, 20 sheets, 1 6 pp., at 7/- a sheet 700

Binding, 34/- per 100 vols. ... 810 0

Moulding, 4/6 4 10 0

Stereotyping at 7 /- 700

£47 5 0

The Cost of Production. 157

VIII. A second edition of the same book,
1,000 copies.

£ s. d.

Printing 800

Paper 14 0 0

Binding 17 0 0

£39 0 0

or a second edition of 3,000 copies.

£ s. d.

Printing, at 16/- 16 0 0

Paper, at 42/- ... 42 0 0
Binding, at £ 1 5 per

1,000 45 0 0

£103 0 0

If bourgeois type be used in the composition,
the charge would be £1 6s. 8d. per sheet of 16 pp.

If brevier type be used in the composition, the
charge would be £1 11s. Od.

IX. An edition of 500 copies, the book to
contain 22 sheets of 16 pp. each, and each page
360 words.

£ s. d.
Composition, 22 sheets of 16 pp., at

£1 16s. Od 39 12 0

Printing, at 8/6 970

Paper, at 9/6 10 9 0

Binding, at lOd 2016 8

Moulding, at 6/6 730

Stereotyping, at 17/- 18 14 0

£106 I 8

158 The Pen and the Book.

£ s. d.
For a second edition of 1,000.

Printing, at 1 2/- 13 4 0

Paper 20 18 0

Binding, at lOd 41 13 4

£75 15 4

X. The following is not an estimate, but an
actual bill. The book contained 12 sheets, of
32 pp. each. It was in long primer type.
Number printed, 1,180.

Composition, at £2 4s. 6d. ...
Extra for smaller type, etc.

£ s.
26 14
4 11
0 10

d.
0

0
0

Machining, at 15/3 ...

9 3

0

Less discount, 5 per cent., for
quarterly payment, £2

40 18

38 18
14 18

0

0

P)

Binding, at 51/6 per 100

30 7

6

Total ...

£84 4

0

XI. The following is a bill for a

Composing 3| sheets, at £l 4s.
Printing 250 copies, at 5/- ...
Paper for 3| sheets, at 4/-
Wrappers and Printing
Folding and Stitching

pamphlet

£ s.
4 10
1 0
0 15
0 5
0 10

d.

0
0
0
0
0

£700

The Cost of Production. 159

XII. The next illustration is a comparative
estimate, in order to show the differences between
printers. The book contained 488 pp., small
pica type.

First, for 1,000 copies.

Composition
£ a. d.

Printing
£ s. d.

Paper
£ s. d.

Binding

£ s. d.

A.

38 17 9

13 4 0

15 5 0

16 11 0

B.

C.

56 6 0
41 3 6

(together)
13 14 6

15 12 0
no return

no return
no return

Next, for 2,000 copies.

A.

38 17 9

21 12 0

30 10 0

33 2 0

B.
C.

63 5 0
41 3 6

(together)
21 .7 0

31 4 0
no return

no return
no return

XIII. Another illustration of comparative
estimates :

The book was one of 20 sheets of 16 pp.
each ; or 10 sheets of 32 pp. The type was
small pica ; there were 29 lines to a page ; the
number of copies was to be 3000.

Composition

per sheet of 32 pp. (1)

£2

5

3

»

55

55

(2)

2

8

0

55

55

55

(3)

2

7

6

55

55

55

(4)

2

12

0

^5

55

55

(5)

3

3

0

Printing per

sheet of

32 pp.

(1)

£1

1

0

55

55

55

(2)

1

7

0

55

55

55

(3)

1

7

0

55

55

55

(4)

1

18

0

55

55

55

(5)

1

16

0

160 The Pen and the Book.

Taking the first estimate :
Composition ... 22 12 6

Printing 10 10 0

Paper 45 0 0

Binding 45 0 0

Moulding 500

£128 2 6 or 10£d. a copy.

XIV. A New York estimate. The book
was one of 256 pp., set up in small pica, single
leaded, at 224 words to a page.
Composition and electrotyping of 256

pp., at 80 cents, to a page ... $204*80

Press work of 8 formes, i.e., 8 sheets of

22pp., at $4 $32

Press work of cover, in one colour ... $2
Paper for cover, yellow coated ... $3

Paper for text, 100 Ibs., super., at $6 per

ream ... ... ... ... $52'50

Plate boxes, four at 65 cents. ... $2'60

Binding (sewed) $20

For extra thousand covers ... ... $5

Total cost for first thousand copies $321 '90

or £64-38, i.e., £64 7s. 7d.

If 2,000 copies are printed, the total cost will
be $418-40, or £83*68, i.e.,£83 13s. 7d.— lOd.each.

A great deal is sometimes made of the cost of
illustrations. Remember it is only one initial
cost. When the drawing and the process have
been paid for, the actual engraving costs very
little indeed.

The Cost of Production. 161

So far, for the cost of production or manufac-
ture. You now understand very nearly what it
costs to turn a MS. into a book. You will
remember that these figures are not hard and
fast ; that they vary ; but that they are figures
actually estimated and actually adopted.

11. THE TRADE PRICE.

After learning the cost of composition, print-
ing, paper, stereotyping, and binding, that is to
say, the whole cost of production, the next step
is to learn the price which the publisher receives
from the trade.

The terms made by publishers are not uniform.
There are different terms with booksellers and
with distributing houses, which in their turn
offer the odd copy to the trade. I am indebted
to a publisher for a complete return of the sales
of a popular six shilling novel. There were many
different prices. Taken altogether the average
trade price was 3/6 within a tiny fraction. We
may therefore assume that the publisher gets
an average of 3/6, and that the bookseller pays
an average of 3/9£ : while the distributing houses
pay an average of 3/5. %

The bookseller gets a profit on each volume, if
he sells all he buys, of 8£d. But he does not sell
all he buys. The publisher and author between
them get a profit of 2/6.

But there is more. If a second edition is
called for it may be produced at about 8d. a
copy. The bookseller gets no advantage of this

162 The Pen and the Book.

diminution in the cost of production, nor generally
does the author. The bookseller continues to
get his 8£d., if he sells the book ivhich he has paid
for. The publisher makes 2s. lOd. a copy, of
which the author has to get his share.

On the first sight of these figures it is obvious
that the bookseller is charged too much. What
the author's share generally is we shall see
presently.

Some years ago the Society of Authors pub-
. lished a book called the " Methods of Publish-
fng," to which they added another called the
" Cost of Production." These books caused
great consternation among those publishers who
had most reason to fear the light. The figures
were impudently denied ; yet, like those given
above, they were actual estimates prepared by
printers. They revealed, for the first time, the
true meaning of the cost of bringing out a book,
a thing which had been hitherto kept in the dark-
est mystery. No one had been allowed to know
what it meant, neither author, nor bookseller,
nor even printer, bookbinder, or paper-maker.
The publisher kept the knowledge entirely to
himself. Now, thanks to the Society of Authors,
everybody may know. The reader is most
strongly advised to get these two books. Of the
latter, a new edition is in preparation, and will
shortly be published. By the aid of these two
books and this chapter, the reader will be en-
abled first to make his own calculation as to the

The Cost of Production. 163

cost of producing his own book in any form, and
next to check and criticise any agreement which
may be submitted to him. If he cannot make
this estimate for himself, he should refer to the
Society of Authors.

THE PUBLISHER'S VADE MECUM.

The following table is prepared for the use of
publishers as a ready reckoner. It means the
price paid by the retail trade, subject to certain
discounts :

5 p. c.

10 p. c.

12i p. c.

15 p. c.

s. d.

s. d.

s. d.

s. d.

s. d

0 6

0 3f

0 3£

0 3/6

0 3,66

1 0

0 11

0 7A

0 6f

0 6}1

1 C

0 llf

0 lOf

0 lOf

0 lOjo

2 0

1 3

1 2

1 If

1 li

2 6

1 6|

1 5|

1 5

1 4|

3 0

1 10

1 8f

1 8jr

1 7i

3 6

2 2£

2 1

2 o|

1 1H

4 0

2 5f

2 4J

2 3^r

2 2f

4 6

2 9|

2 7|

2 6f

2 5f

5 0

3 If

2 llf

2 lOf

2 9f

6 0

3 7f

3 ffl

3 41

3 3£

7 6

4 8

4 5}

4 3f

4 2{

8 0

4 llf

4 8|

4 7

4 5}

The calculations are based on sale price 13 as
12, but, as it is not the custom to give this dis-
count on single copies, the average is, of course,
very sensibly raised.

164 The Pen and the Book.

To sum up the figures and meaning of this
chapter.

The following table will show approximately
what is the commercial value of an ordinary
book — not necessarily a novel, sold at 6/- I
have taken a volume of 320 pp., of about 300
words to the page, plainly bound, in small pica
type, and on good, but not expensive paper. The
stated cost includes moderate advertising,
(i) Suppose one thousand copies printed, and
five hundred bound and sold.

The cost is about £85.

Average retail price 3/6.

500 copies at 3/6— £87 10s.

Profit, nominal,
(ii) Suppose two thousand copies printed, and

one thousand bound and sold.
^ The cost is about £100.

Average retail price 3/6.

1000 at 3/6— £175.

Profit, £75.

(iii) Suppose two thousand copies printed,
bound, and sold.

The cost is about £115.

Average price 3/6.

2000 at 3/6— £350.

Profit, £235.
(iv) Three thousand printed and sold.

Cost about £150.

Average price 3/6.

3000 at 3/6, less press copies — £516.

Profit, £366.

T he Cost of Production. 165

(v) Ten thousand printed and sold.
Cost about £350.
Average price 3/6.
10,000 at 3/6— £1,750.
Profit, £1,400.

More detailed figures, showing the cost of
various kinds of books in different type, etc., are
given in the " Cost of Production," already
referred to, published by the Society of Authors.
These figures, however, are sufficient to shew the
meaning of literary property by the example of
one book. The cost of production can be, and
generally is, made very much cheaper.

(i). Namely, when a great deal of work is put
into the hands of a printer.

(ii). When paper is bought in large quan-
tities.

(iii). When cloth for binding is bought in
large quantities.

(iv). By sending the book to a country
printer, or to a printer in Holland. Certain pub-
lishers send a great deal of their printing to
Holland.

The issue of books at a penny, sixpence, and a
shilling -shows the cheapness of printing and
paper. This phenomenal cheapness is only p6s-
sible in very large issues. Machines can now
print at once a sheet of 32pp — and the new modes
of manufacture have very greatly cheapened
paper. A very slight rise in the price ot paper
would cause half the penny journals to stop at

166 The Pen and the Book.

once, and would make the very cheap issues of
books impossible.

CHAPTER III.
THE METHODS OF PUBLISHING.

THERE are four principal methods : —

1. The sale of the property outright.

2. A profit sharing agreement.

3. A royalty system.

4. Publishing on commission.

I. The rule of the game in the first method
is easy and simple. It consists simply of trying
to buy a property which may be worth many
hundreds, or even many thousands, for a song.
Thus, some years ago, the Society of Authors
exposed the usage of the Society for Promoting
Christian Knowledge, in giving £12, £20, or £30
for books which brought them, in some cases, x
very large sums. Thus, in one case, £12 was
given for an historical work, with a promise of
more if the book should be successful. As many
as 5,000 copies were acknowledged to have been
sold, yet the righteous committee refused to
give anything more to the author ! It is true

168 The Pen and the Book.

that the promise was denied, but there also seems
to have been no examination into the correspond-
ence, nor any offer to show the correspondence.
Such things are done in the holy name of Re-
ligion ! Other instances are on record, and in
plenty, of miserable sums offered for popular
books. Thus stories are told of an offer of £15,
£25, and so on, for the complete copyright and
possession of a literary work which afterwards
turned out to be a considerable property. Of
course, publishers are free to offer what they
please. But let the author refuse. If he is an
" established " writer, that is to say, one with a
name, he may deal after this method because he
has some knowledge of what he is worth. But
not a new writer.

Let the author with the figures we have given
him, find out what profit or loss accrues on sales
of 500, 1,000, and more copies. He will then be
able to judge what an offer means.

II. Let us turn to the PEOFIT-SHARING
AGREEMENT. Here the dangers are manifold.

The cost of production under its various head-
ings may be, and very commonly is, falsely repre-
sented.

In other words, if an expenditure of £ 1 00 has
been incurred, it may be set down at £120, or,
indeed at any figure that the publisher pleases.
(See the previous remarks on the Draft Agree-
ments which make this possible.)

The Methods of Publication. 169

The charge for advertising does not credit the
author with the discounts. These are sometimes
heavy. Thus, if a bill is sent in for £100 a dis-
count may be taken off varying from five per cent,
to anything, according to the practice of the
paper. To pay £80 and to call it £100 under
this heading is to take £20 secretly and by
means of a falsehood.

But, the inexperienced author says, the pub-
lisher who does this must be dishonest. Exactly.
He must. The author, therefore, must make up
his mind to the solid fact that he will have to
treat a publisher as he treats other people, viz.,
as possibly dishonest.

" Office expenses " are charged.

Undoubtedly there are office expenses. This
means that a biisiness cannot be carried on with-
out rent, taxes, and servants. But booksellers
also have their office expenses. Do publishers
make allowance for the office expenses of book-
sellers ? I have never heard of such a case.
With booksellers, office expenses have got to come
out of profits as in any other business. Why,
then, should publishers claim extra allowance for
office expenses which they refuse to booksellers,
and which no other men claim, either professional
men or business men ? They are paid for the
administration of a property in which they are
partners ; they do this by means of their clerks
and servants ; what have they done for the prop-
erty except administer it ? They have incurred

170 The Pen and the, Book.

risk, it is argued. We will come to the question
of risk, immediately. Meantime, the ready
answer is that they need not incur risk unless
they please.

Again, they offer no allowance to the author
for his office expenses. Now the office expenses
of a writer are sometimes very considerable.
There are his books, which are his tools ; think
of the library which a writer on any especial
branch must possess or command ; in many
cases his command of, or access to, a great
library is not enough ; one must have the books
always to hand ; there is the rent of his study
and library ; the services which he requires ;
often he engages a shorthand clerk, a secretary,
a type-writer. I offer a case of personal experi-
ence. Some years ago I was asked to contribute
to what was called " Macmillan's Red Series," a
biography of Captain Cook. I had in my pos-
session a large number of books on eighteenth
century voyages ; I had already a considerable
knowledge of this explorer and his work : I had,
besides, access to special information, of which
nobody else knew anything. It became neces-
sary, however, to undertake three journeys into
the country of two or three days each, in order to
complete this and to get other information. These
journeys, without counting the additional books
which had to be bought, cost me over £30.
What was this expenditure but " office expen-
ses ? " The price paid for the work was one

The Methods of Publication. 171

hundred pounds or guineas — nothing being
allowed for mj "office expenses." I do not
grumble, because I was perfectly free to accept
or refuse. But I state the bare facts of the
case. My " office expenses " — certainly £52 —
had to come out of this £100. Put them as
follows: (1). Journeys, £30. (2). Copying a
Log, £7. (3). Books, £5. (4). Rent of
Office for three months, and postage and inci-
dental expenses, £12. Total, £52.

Again, some years ago, a certain Professor
wrote a learned work on a point of German his-
tory. This work cost him two separate resi-
dences in Berlin, each of many weeks, besides
the books which he had to buy. These were
" office expenses," of which the author said
nothing. Instances innumerable could be given
in which the " office expenses " of the author are
very considerable — perhaps altogether exceeding
the returns of his book. Yet nothing is ever
said about them. An author often must incur
very heavy expenses. But he is treated as if he
had no expenses at all.

The only way to a fair adjustment of the
question is to let both publisher and author take
a percentage from the actual returns for " office
expenses," and for the bookseller to take an
additional discount for his " office expenses."

Here are two accounts (see " Methods of Pub-
lishing," p. 32), showing side by side, a Pub-

172 The Pen and the Book.

lisher's account and an independent Printer's
estimate for the same work. It was in two
volumes.

Publisher's Account.

£ s. d.

Paper and Print — 750 copies ... 154 4 0
Drawing illustration ... 42 0 0
Drawing on stone and

printing ... ... 52 13 1

Binding 500 copies at 65/- per 100,
i.e., 7fd. a copy

265 2 1

Printer's Estimate.

£ s. d.

Paper and Printing 123 0 0

Illustration, drawing, and printing 48 0 0

Binding 500 copies at 5d. ... 10 8 4

181 8 4
A difference of £84 !

Can anyone believe that this difference was
due to chance, or to superior work — or to ignor-
ance ? The £84 odd was the Publisher's secret
profit on the production alone, apart from the
profit which he was to realize by the sale of the
book.

And now. I think, enough has been said to
show that the profit-sharing agreement must not
be undertaken without serious consideration and
due precautions against secret profits.

The Methods of Publication. 173

III. THE ROYALTY SYSTEM.

Authors at first jumped at the proposal of a
royalty, because they thought something, at any
rate, would come to them. In this expectation,
as you shall see, they have been deceived. Pub-
lishers, for their part, welcomed the royalty
system first because it saved them from the
trouble (and perhaps the shame) of falsifying
accounts, but chiefly because the profound ignor-
ance of authors as regards the cost of production
and the management and meaning of literary
property enabled them to offer the unfortunate
author a very small fraction of the proceeds of
his own property. Thus royalties of ten per
cent., which you shall understand presently, were
freely offered, and even smaller royalties, while
some of them even went so far as to offer royalties
on the trade price instead of the advertised price.
Thus ten per cent, has been given on the trade
price. In the case we have already considered
this would mean one-tenth of 3/6, i.e., 4^d. on
each copy of a 6/- book.

For a detailed account of the various ways
of trading on the author's ignorance, I refer
the reader to " Methods of Publishing," chap-
ter v. Let us, however, take a sample case of
figures.

We will examine the following table of what
different royalties give to the publisher and the
author respectively on our example of a book.

174

The Pen and the Book.

A percentage of 5 10 15 20 25 30 35

On 6/- gives to
the publisher 2'2£l'10£l'7-Jl'3f I'O

To the author j3|d. 7^d. 10£l'2fl-6 l'9|2'i;

But there is another consideration — that of the
second edition.

In the second edition the cost in the case ad-
duced would be 8d. on each edition of 3,000, the
profit, therefore, would be 2/10 on each copy.

Now for the royalties.
A percent-
age of 5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40

On 6/- gives
to the Pub-
lisher

The author /3| /7\ /10* 1/2* 1/6 l-9f 2/1! 2/4 1
But the book was not, we will suppose, a com-
plete success. Perhaps only 2,000 out of the
3,000 would be sold, the rest being disposed of as
remainder-stock in sheets. The full cost of the
2,000 then would be nearly £130, or very nearly
one shilling and threepence a copy, not allowing
for the sale of the sheets.

The figures now stand as follows : —
A percentage of

2/6?

15

20

25

30

35

I/US

1/7?

1/4

1/0!

w

/lot

1/21

1/6

1-92

2/12

On 6/- gives to
the Publisher

To the Author

1/lli

/32

10

1/7!

15

20

1/41 1/02

1/2!

25

1/6

30

1/9

35

At

2/1 1

The Methods of Publication.

175

But a brilliant discovery was made. This was
the deferred royalty. In other words the pub-
lisher proposed to pay no royalty at all until
enough copies had been sold to pay the whole
cost of production, with any percentages he
chose to make, and then to pay the author as
small a royalty as he dared to offer. In his
ignorance and helplessness the author mostly
consented, and so got nothing, because somehow
the limit Avas never reached.

Let us see with the case before us what this
means. For the whole edition of 3,000 copies, to
pay this cost of production, about 850 copies would
have to be sold. The offer would probably be —
to begin a royalty after 900 copies had been
sold. Now for our figures. Remember that the
publisher has 2,200 copies in his hands, without
counting " overa," whose production has been
paid for. The copies cost him nothing. He
has therefore 3/6 clear on every copy, after 850.
The following are the respective shares on the
various royalties.

Publisher

5

10

15

20

25

30

3-2J

2-10$

2-7J

2'3J

2-0

1-82

33

71

<5

10j

1-21

1-6

1-9J

1-4

2-4

6d.

2.813-0

Author's
Royalty. 3* 7J 10jl-2»l-6 l-9J2-lj

So that, if a royalty is to begin after the cost
of production is covered, in order that there may
be a fair division of profits, the author must have
a 30 per cent, royalty.

176 The Pen and the Book.

These figures prove perfectly clearly that the
publisher who offers a low royalty is simply
putting into his own pockets the greater part of
the proceeds. The fact cannot be denied. Those
who practise this trick, if they try to defend it
at all, fall back upon " risk " (of which more
will be said immediately) and " office expenses."

As regards the deferred royalty, however,
there is worse behind. There are cases which
have been dragged to light in which the author,
for a wretched sum of £25 down, has been per-
suaded to accept a low royalty after 7,000 copies
have been sold !

The only fair way in which a royalty system
should b$ worked is that of recognising the
figures and facts and agreeing upon a division of
the profits with nothing secret or false in the
accounts.

Thus, the author should take a low royalty for
the first 1,000 copies and a higher royalty for
succeeding copies. The reader can work out for
himself the figures.

IV. PUBLICATION BY COMMISSION.

By this method the author undertakes whatever
risk there may be in the cost of production. One
would think that this method was so simple that
there would be no possible danger of being plun-
dered. Just to give a publisher a commission on
the sale of a book is so plain that there can be
nothing to guard against. But the unfortunate

The Methods of Publication. 177

author seldom knows the extent of his publisher's
ingenuity. What he does and what he claims
as a right is to begin with a fee : to add a
percentage — anything he pleases on every item
of the cost ; to put in his o\vn pocket all the dis-
counts ; and to charge for advertising in his own
organ and by exchanges. The Draft Agree-
ments claim this right. But he does not put these
clauses in his agreements. Thus, if the cost of
the book be £100, and the sales amount to
£300, the author expects the following simple
account : ;

£ s. a. £ s. d.

Cost of pro- By sales 300 0 0

duction ... 100 0 0
Publisher's

commission

at 15 per

cent. ... 45 0 0
To Author 155 0 0

£300 0 0 £300 0 0

What he will probably get is something like
the following, but with the omission of the ex-
planatory items. Observe that the alleged cost
of production has to be paid in advance, which
costs the author half-a-year's interest, and that
the publisher keeps the author's money for about
a year, which gives him the interest for that
time.

N

178

The Pen and the Book.

£ s. d.

£ s. d.

Alleged cost 165 0 0 True sales 300 0 0
Publisher's Less 15 per

10 0 0

fee
Discounts

(secret) ... 15 0 0
Incidental

expenses ... 5 0 0
Publisher's

commission

(as by a-

greement) . 38 5 0
Due to author 21 15 0

£255 0 0

cent, for
bad debts
and office
expenses 45 0 0

£255 0 0

£255 0 0

By this arrangement the publisher receives
£178, and the author £21, or, since the real
profit is £200, the publisher takes very nearly
seven-eighths, leaving the author one-fourth !

It is quite clear that this is not a method to
be recommended. It will be objected that none
but the most dishonest firms could act in such a
manner. On the contrary, it is the Publishers'
Association, through their Committee, which
claims the right to all these things. To be sure,
it says nothing about the charge for advertise-
ments not paid for, but their silence on such an
important point, to which the Authors' Society
has over and over again called attention, must be
taken for consent.

The Methods of Publication. 179

Obviously this is not a good way of publish-
ing.

But the author may send his MS. to a printer,
and give the book to a publisher on commission.
It would seem that he could do nothing then but
sell the book. He has still, however, the adver-
tisements in his hands, and he proposes in the
" Draft Agreements," to make profits for himself
out of them. Moreover, as said before, when
he has nothing but his simple commission he is
pretty certain to press other books on which he
makes more, before this.

There is another peril attached to publishing
by commission. The unwary author may send
his MS. to one of the houses which have to ad-
vertise for authors. He receives, almost by
return post, a letter, always couched in the same
terms. The publisher is pleased to inform the
author that his reader has sent in " so favourable
a report " of the work that he is prepared to offer
the following " exceptional terms." The author
is to pay £90 down, which will cover all the ex-
pense of production : the publisher promises to
bring out an edition of 750 or 1500 or anything,
and to continue to bring out more while the de-
mand continues : the returns are to be divided in
certain proportions. The agreement is sent
down. The author writes to say that he cannot
afford £90. The publisher replies that he will take
£70. This offer is accepted, because the author
is pleased to find a publisher anxious to have the

180 The Pen and the Book.

work. It is sent to the printers. It comes
out. The author then complains that the book
is not advertised. " Oh ! " says the publisher,
" you said nothing about advertisements. They
are an extra, of course. Send me £10." He
presently forwards a copy of the Stoke Pogis
Gazette, in which the book is advertised. Of
course there are no returns. The publisher has
spent probably £40 on the book and has pocketed
the rest.

This kind of thing goes on all the year round.
There are two firms at least which do nothing
else. And there are hardly any firms which
refuse commission books, with the pleasing results
to the author that we have seen above.

Another way is the famous " guarantee "
trick. In this case the author engages to " guar-
antee " so many copies — say 350. That is to
say, if, after six months or so, less than 350
copies have been sold the author has to pay for
the deficit ; if 50 copies only are sold he has to
send the publisher the trade price of 300 copies
— lucky if he is not obliged to pay full price.
But after that, at least he gets the returns. Not
at all. The publisher by a judicious and crafty
silence in the agreement keeps all the rest in his
own hands ! You think this is incredible. It is
strictly and literally true. The trick has been
exposed in The Author from several cases actually
brought before the Secretary of the Society.

A very flagrant case of this "method" was

The Methods of Publication. 181

brought to the Secretary some years ago. A
well-known writer in a certain line placed a large
and important MS. in the hands of a publisher ;
he gave him also a quantity of illustrations
already in plates. The book was produced in
two large and handsome volumes, which reflected,
as all the reviewers hastened to acknowledge,
great credit on the House — especially on the
enterprise of the House. Some reviewers went
so far as to ask how, in the case of a book on
which so large a capital must have been em-
barked, the Authors' Society persisted in under-
rating the risks incurred by publishers. This
enterprise, however, was not quite what the world
supposed. For the enterprising House had made
the author guarantee the sum of £400. He
thought it meant the difference, if any, between
the sales and £400. But that was not what they
meant at all. Nor did the agreement justify him
in that reading. They made him actually pay
up the £400. So that the enterprising firm got
towards the expenses all the illustrations and
£400 besides. A nobly enterprising firm, indeed !

The considerations set forth above are surely
sufficient to justify the warning never— never —
never to bring out a book by commission unless
these tricks can be made impossible, and never on
any account to listen to the man who wants a
writer to pay so much in advance.

It has been publicly stated that I have not
practised what I preach — and that in one novel

182 The Pen and the Booh.

at least I published by commission. I have, in
fact, published three novels on commission, yet
not in the way above described.

The circumstances were as follows : — The first
novel which I wrote, in collaboration with the
late James Rice, appeared in " Once a Week,"
serially. The story attracted a good deal of
attention, and we found that we should save a
great deal of money if we gave it to a publisher
on commission. We did so, but not in the ordin-
ary manner. We printed and bound it at our
own risk ; we gave it to a publisher on commis-
sion : and he got nothing but that simple com-
mission, with which, to do him justice, he was
content. Moreover, by arranging with the prin-
ters that they should be paid when the first
returns came in, we had to pay just nothing at
all, because the returns covered the cost and the
commission, and left a comfortable sum over.
That is an ideal way of publishing, provided
your publisher will honestly push the book ; that
is, will give it the same chance as his own books.

The writer who publishes his book on com-
mission must also remember that notes, in-
sets, quotations in different type, etc., add
materially to the expense ; that Greek, Arabic,
or Hebrew words are inserted at so much a word,
and the prefaces and introductions will be
charged extra.

An illustration of the latter occurred some
years ago. A writer brought this case to the
Society of Authors.

The Methods of Publication. 183

A.B. agreed with a publisher to pay so much
for the production of his book. He then asked
a friend acquainted with the subject, to write an
Introduction. The friend did so ; he wrote a
length j Introduction, with many corrections ;
the publisher said nothing about the extra cost,
or that there would be any extra cost, but let
him go on until he saw himself able to bring in a
bill for the Introduction and corrections equal to
all that the author had paid for the cost of the
whole book. And there was nothing to be done
but to pay. It will be said that the author ought
to have known, of course. But authors as a rule
know nothing.

3. RISK.

The question of " risk " is one which requires
careful consideration, because so much ignorant
nonsense is talked about it, and so many mis-
leading statements are constantly advanced on
the subject. What, therefore, does risk mean
practically ?

(i). The production of great works, such as
encyclopaedias, dictionaries, maps, illustrated art
books, may undoubtedly entail the investment of
large sums ; waiting for the repayment perhaps
for many years ; and perhaps losing in the long
run. Let us, however, separate these works,
which are only undertaken by two or three pub-
lishers : and let us confine our inquiry to
general literature.

184 The Pen and the Book.

(ii). The production of general literature
stands on quite a different footing, as the follow-
ing considerations will show —

(a) There are many hundreds of writers, en-
gaged upon every branch of intellectual work,
whose works entail no risk whatever. In other
words, the experienced publisher knows with these
writers how large an edition he can safely order
without any loss to himself. This kind of ex-
perience was happily illustrated by an account
shown to me recently. The author was a well-
known writer. The publisher knew beforehand
so well wThat he would sell that he printed one
edition which sold out all but twenty copies or so.
Once more, remember that there are hundreds of
writers of whom this may be said, and that they
are all known by publishers in their respective
branches.

(b) There is another large class of writers of
whom it is safe to conclude that their books will
at least pay expenses with some margin.

(c) There is a practice of "subscribing" a
book ; that is, offering it to the booksellers of
London before it is even printed. The publisher
thus gains some idea of the number on which he
may venture. Thus, if he arrives at a subscrip-
tion of 200 copies of such a book among the
London booksellers, he may expect as many from
the country trade, and so he goes to press with a
risk either greatly diminished or wiped out.

(d) But publishers reduce the risk a great
deal more in various ways.

The Methods of Publication. 185

They bind no more than are wanted.

They do not advertise more than is absolutely
necessary ; they feel their way. Thus, with a
great many books, whose sale is certain to be
small, £5 or so covers the advertising bill. They
do not mould a book which is not likely to want
a second edition. Thus they save £10 or so.

(e) But the real way of regarding the actual
risk incurred is this. Publishers do not pay the
printer and others for a certain time, three to six
months. Before that time they have received
their returns of the first subscription of the
book. The risk therefore is not, as is generally
believed, the cost of production : it is the differ-
ence, if any, between the first subscription and the
cost of production.

For instance, the cost of production being
£100, and the returns of the first subscription
£95, the risk is just £5. And as I have said, pub-
lishers know pretty well at the outset what the
first subscription will be. These considerations
are sufficient to show what risk really means in
the production of current general literature, not
in great undertakings : it is the difference be-
tween the cost of production and the first returns.
But a publisher may say that he cannot under-
take work without the prospect of such a margin
as will pay his office expenses and profit for
himself. We have already considered the ques-
tion of office expenses, which apply to both
author and bookseller.

186 The Pen and the Book.

In setting forth these figures and estimates I
do not suppose that many of my readers will find
themselves in a position at the outset to refuse
the terms offered them. I only want them to
examine and note very carefully what those terms
mean ; and if they find that they have been
overreached by their publisher ; or deceived by
false representations, in the various letters, con-
versations, and agreements about the book, to
avoid that publisher for the future, and to let
their friends know how they have been treated.

Further, these facts and figures, it must be re-
membered, though they have been vehemently
denied over and over again, are not inventions
but actual, bond fide, working estimates ; so that
for a publisher to deny them means to write him-
self down either as a fool or a knave. What
other alternative can there be ? Because it is
absurd to suppose that a publisher, whose whole
business is the production of books, cannot find
out how to produce them as cheaply, at least, as
a man who only produces one now and again.

CHAPTER IV.

SPECIAL SUBJECTS.

EVERY subject that can be mentioned has its
own literature, its own circle of readers, and its
own writers of authority.

If the subject is popular it may command a
wide circle of readers : thus, a book on garden-
ing, if written by one with a reputation for
knowledge of gardening, might command a very
extensive circle of readers : a book on the
anatomy of the common shrimp might be of the
highest value in science, but would certainly
address a very limited circle.

Some subjects are of interest so limited that
they cannot be published in book form : for
them the Transactions of a Learned Society
exist. Thus the late Professor Sylvester was
said to write mathematical papers which could
only be followed by half-a-dozen men in the
whole world. They appeared, of course, in a
scientific journal.

Technical books must be considered apart

188 The Pen and the Book.

from those of general literature. They require
as a rule, two or three different kinds of type :
and they require carefully drawn and costly
illustrations, with notes and appendices, all of
which add to the cost of production.

Books of history are sometimes based on origi-
nal research, in which case they may be invalu-
able to the right understanding of institutions and
their growth, and yet dull to the general reader
and in small demand. The archaeologist, or the
reader of ancient archives and MSS., rarely
possesses a pleasing or an attractive style. Yet
the great names of Stubbs, Freeman, Froude,
Gardiner, and others show that an historian may
conduct original researches and still be attrac-
tive, while the names of Green, Bright, and
others show that history may be as popular and
in as great demand as any books of fiction. If,
in fact, a scholar can cultivate or command a
pleasing and dramatic style, there is no branch
of literature more safe or more delightful. He
may count on success of every kind, including
reputation and money. It would be interesting
to know the conditions on which J. B. Green's
extremely popular History was brought out, and
how far its success was an adequate reward for
the pains and study bestowed upon it. So great
are the prizes open to an historian that he must
be either an excellent man of business himself or
he must be mad not to go to a Literary Agent.

Books of Essays should be carefully safe-

Special Subjects. 189

guarded. Nothing is more uncertain than the
reception of a book of essays. Most of them
have a scanty circulation and appeal to very few
readers. But there are so many exceptions that
the writer cannot be too careful. The essays of
Bacon, Addison, Cowley, Charles Lamb, are
immortal. Those of Leigh Hunt, Hazlitt,
Arthur Helps, Shirley, still have readers. Those
of Louis Stevenson, Augustine Birrell and others,
living and dead, ought to encourage the essayist
with the hope of a reception equally wide and
pleasing. In fact, the essayist has only to
possess the charm of manner in order to be
popular. In Louis Stevenson the manner is
everything : the matter is thin : he is the
Montaigne of our age — and like Montaigne he is
read with a delight which we cannot accord to
serious writers. Therefore the essayist must take
care. I have already quoted the case of the
publisher who proposed to make the writer
guarantee the whole cost with a good margin,
and then to put the whole of the profits which
might follow into his own pocket.

Books of travel, as a rule, have a very large
circulation, but a brief life. The illustrations
and maps with which they are adorned give the
publisher an additional and most profitable
chance of trading on the author's ignorance.
Therefore he must be extremely careful with his
agreement.

Books on archaeological subjects : books on

190 The Pen and the Book.

topography : books on the history of Art : or
on the history of the arts, of civilisation, of trade,
etc., can hardly be expected to command wide
success, because they appeal to an audience con-
fined to students or to experts. These books
may be, and frequently are, extremely valuable :
each one may occupy a man's whole life and be
his one work : each one may be a contribution to
the subject of the kind called " epoch making ; "
but its circulation may be of the smallest. For
instance, there is the extremely valuable series of
books issued by the Early English Text Society.
It is no secret that the services of all who were
engaged upon those works, whether as editors or
as writers of prefaces, introductions, notes, and
glossaries, were given for nothing. This is the
most conspicuous illustration that I know of
laborious work undertaken and carried through,
involving years of labour, without the least hope
or thought of other reward than the satisfaction
of seeing the work done.

As regards educational books, I cannot do
better than refer the reader to the Report of
the Sub-Committee appointed by the Authors'
Society. It should be studied by every writer
in this branch.

CHAPTER V.

THE CHOICE OF A PUBLISHER.

IN the preceding chapters I have explained
what is meant by the Cost of Production, Trade
Price, Risk, Royalties, and Profit - Sharing
agreements. It may be thought that I have
spoken of the Publisher with undeserved disre-
spect. My answer is that he has spoken of him-
self with far greater disrespect than I have ever
ventured upon. In the summer of this year
(1898) the Committee of the Publishers' Associ-
ation issued a set of draft agreements in
which it was clearly shown that they intended to
claim the whole of literary property for them-
selves as their pretended right. The chorus of
general amazement was loud and unanimous.
Whether these agreements are eventually with-
drawn or modified, or not, they will remain as
a proof that nothing that has been said as to
the rapacity of publishers as a class comes any-
where near the truth, if this committee is repre-
sentative. Every possible opening for a fresh

192 The Pen and the Book.

claim is eagerly seized upon : all the charges
and accounts, according to these agreements,
are to be over-stated as a right : percentages
of anything the publisher pleases are to be
added : all sums of money received are to
be treated as belonging to the publisher, less
whatever royalties he may choose to give : all
rights whatever are to be theirs : they even
claim as their own the dramatic and trans-
lation rights ! ! Again, to make the game of
" grab " more easy, all percentages, royalties,
and commissions are left blank, to be filled up as
anyone might please. Taking a moderate esti-
mate, it has been shown that a " half -profit "
agreement may mean that the publisher is to
have 85 per cent, of the profits, and that even a
commission agreement may bring in the same
pleasing and honest result.

Now these agreements must have been ad-
vanced in the sure and certain knowledge that
at present no writer of independence will submit
to them, and that no respectable literary agent
will allow his clients to accept them. They
show, however, the intention of putting forward
claims which, although they have no basis of
right or equity, may succeed in being accepted
by degrees from a class notoriously unbusiness-
like : they may be gradually allowed through
ignorance : it is the intention by slow degrees
of the publishers to make the whole of literary
property their own : they have only recently

The Choice of a Publisher. 1 93

failed in their attempt to enslave the bookseller :
they hope, probably, to succeed in that when
they have made the author thus dependent.
Then they will become absolute masters of liter-
ary property.

It may be observed that should these tactics
prove successful, they would most certainly lead
to the total destruction of literature. No one
who could avoid it would enter upon an occupa-
tion of which the whole of the rewards produced
by his own hand and his own brain were to be
taken from him by a middleman : no one would
become, if he could help it, a hack and a drudge
for a publisher's shop. The best and brightest
minds would no longer be attracted by the pro-
fession of letters : poetry, fiction, essays, belles
lettres — all that is most delightful and most
glorious in literature would fall into decay, and
with them, one is pleased to think, the grasping
publisher himself who had caused this ruin.

At this point it will be well to ask what the
publisher does for a book, that he should claim
rights in it, or any payment for his services. I
desire to recognise to the full all his services,
and to acknowledge his right to be paid for every
form of service.

Under most terms of agreement, he undertakes
the payment of printer, paper-maker, binder, and
advertising agent.

This he calls risk. We have seen what his
risk means — this inquiry deals only with current

194 The Pen and the Book.

general literature. In the case of hundreds of
writers in all branches it is simply nothing. In
the case of unknown writers, the difference be-
tween the first subscription that the publisher's
name can command and the cost of production,
generally constitutes the risk. If the publisher's
name carries weight with the booksellers, it is
probably represented, even in the case of pre-
viously unknown writers, by a few pounds. And
even this small risk he is most careful not to
incur unless the work is very strongly recom-
mended by his reader. One is almost ashamed
to insist upon this point — the avoidance, if
possible, of risk — because it naturally belongs to
business of all kinds. The publisher, however,
by constantly parading his so- called risk compels
us to dwell upon it.

He then, by means of his clerks, puts the MS.
through a perfectly mechjMaical process of print-
ing and binding and advertising. There is no
mystery about it : a boy of fifteen could learn it
in a week. When a book is completed he sends
his traveller round with it, if he has a traveller.
In many cases he does not keep this book in his
store — it remains with the binder. He also
advertises it.

It is sometimes argued that a publisher brings
to the business of advertising special knowledge
as to the money that would be spent and the
organs likely to be most useful. I have seen
many hundreds of accounts in which advertise-

The Choice of a Publisher. 195

ments largely figured. In some instances I have
seen them set out in detail. What is observed ?
The greatest uncertainty. One man advertises
largely ; another advertises very little and in very
few journals. With the exception that all
advertise in the London morning papers, there is
a difference so great that it is impossible to admit
that experience is of any value, since its results
are so divergent. In one case where an enor-
mous item for advertising was presented, the
details were demanded and furnished. There
was no reason to doubt the charge, unless dis-
counts had been received and not entered in the
account. Now this sum was largely made up by
advertising in all the little provincial papers, such
journals as local people of any note do not take
in. The money would seem to have been com-
pletely thrown away. Yet this was the result of a
publisher's life-long " experience." My own ex-
perience is that advertising is always tentative
and very often stupid. That is to say, the organs
are chosen without regard to their readers, and
the money is spent without regard to its useful-
ness. Of course, when one observes in a maga-
zine, whose circulation is only two or three
thousand, a four page advertisement of a pub-
lisher's book, that means exchange, or the adver-
tisements of the proprietor which cost nothing,
and are probably quite useless, except as a means
of besting the author.

Observe that the cases when a publisher pro-

196 The Pen and the Book.

duces a work by an unknown man are rare : he
need not produce such a book unless he pleases.
For reasons which are obvious the risk of pro-
ducing new men and doubtful subjects is more
often incurred in a young house than an old-
established house. The publisher, for such
services as he renders, should be paid by a com-
mission just as any other agent or middleman is
paid.

But when a publisher gives his traveller books
called " his own," that is books on a royalty or a
profit-sharing agreement, together with books
belonging to the author : since he may get
(see p. 192) from the former books 85 per cent, of
the profits, and from the latter only from ten to
fifteen per cent, commission, which is he most
likely to push?

A system of commission publishing is only
really practicable when this temptation does not
work : that is to say, when a publisher can be
found who does nothing else.

The preceding seem to be all the services
rendered by the publisher. If there are any
more I shall be pleased to acknowledge them and
to correct this statement. In return for these
services he demands, as we have seen, the power
of taking anything he pleases of the proceeds or
even the whole. By the " draft agreements " there
is nothing to prevent him from taking the whole.

However, the reader, armed with the weapons
of the truth, ought now to be in a position to

The Choice of a Publisher. 197

bring the knowledge of the expert to meet the
subtlety of the serpent.

Certain points of caution may be added, how-
ever, which may be useful in the choice of a pub-
lisher.

(i). Let the writer watch publishers' lists and
advertisements. If he finds that several authors
of repute, not one only, have continued with one
firm, that is a certain definite point in favour of
that firm. If he finds that writers of repute
have withdrawn after publishing one or two books
with that firm, let him have nothing to do with it.
There can be no surer sign of dissatisfaction,
whether justified or not.

(ii). Let him, if possible, go to a publisher
recommended by some other writer's personal
experience.

(iii). If he is a new writer, and anxious
above all things to have the book published, let
him get what terms he can, and note carefully the
points, if any, in ichich he has been plundered.
He will then avoid this firm for the future.

(iv). Let him refuse, absolutely, to pay in
advance for the alleged cost of production, or
any part of it.

(v). On the other hand, if he can find a good
distributing agent, there is a great deal to be
said for even a new writer printing and binding
for himself, and paying the difference, if any,
after the first run.

(vi). If he is not a new writer, but one of

198 The Pen and the Book.

some reputation, let him go to a firm supposed to
be respectable, and offer him his book on an
agreement, drawn by himself, and revised by the
Society of Authors. If the book is going to
have a run, i.e., if "there is money in it," the
book will certainly be taken on such an agree-
ment, which the Secretary will take care to make
reasonable.

(vii). The chief dangers to guard against
are — (1). The power of making secret profits.
(2). The power of charging for advertisements
which cost nothing, as exchanges and advertise-
ments in the publishers' own organs. (3). A
clear understanding of what the agreement in
case of success, great or small, will give the pub-
lisher and what it will give the writer.

(viii). As regards the proper proportion of
shares, no rule can be laid down ; nothing can be
actually defined as equitable. If one has to re-
gard the publisher as incurring risk, it would be
well to allow him to take the money he has
risked with interest on the time during which it
had been employed, from the first returns of the
book. Thus, if the first subscription is more
than the cost of production, he has risked noth-
ing and invested nothing. If the first returns
are less he has risked that difference. If it be
argued that there must be risk with a new
writer, because no one knows how he will go ;
the answer is that a publisher of standing knows
very well that his own name and recommendation

The Choice of a Publisher. 199

are worth something, at least on the first sub-
scription. And that he takes what risk there is,
in such a case, with his eyes open.

Where no risk is incurred, I do not think, for
my own part, that the publisher ought to take
more than one third of the real profits : and I am
quite certain that there ought to be no percent-
ages for office expenses, or for discounts, or for
anything else.

In the case of a writer of any reputation, let
him go to a literary agent, but only to one
recommended after personal experience.

CHAPTER VI.

DISHONESTY AND FRAUD.

WE have shown how in a profit-sharing system :
in a royalty method : in publishing on commis-
sion the author may be worsted ; or over-
reached ; or bested ; how the publisher may either
trade upon his ignorance or may claim to take
whatever he pleases in accordance with the
views of the Publishers' Association.

That there have been fraud and falsehood
habitually and regularly committed has been long
known, and has recently been proved in many
ways.

1. The exposure of the real figures, and an
examination of the figures presented, shows that
the accounts have been very commonly " cooked."

2. The extreme wrath of certain publishers
at the disclosure of the figures can only be ex-
plained on the theory of dishonesty.

3. The repeated denials of the accuracy of
these figures which were simply unaltered
printers' and bookbinders' estimates is another

Dishonesty and Fraud. 201

proof of dishonesty. Lastly, in their draft agree-
ments the Publishers' Association have now
actually claimed the right to do the very things
they have been charged with doing, and this, after
affecting the greatest indignation that " sweeping"
charges had been brought against their body.
What does this prove ?

But we need not regard either claim or repudi-
ation— the fact remains that if any body of men,
rich or poor, are allowed the power of cheating,
cooking accounts, overstating charges, or of in-
venting charges with impunity, they will cheat,
cook accounts, overstate charges, and invent
charges. That is, most of them will. And I
have no hesitation whatever in alleging as a
simple fact that has been brought home to me
by ten or twelve years of investigation into the
commercial side of Literature, that many pub-
lishers, including some of the great houses, have
made it their common practice to take secret
percentages on the cost of every item : to charge
advertisements which they have not paid for :
and in this manner to take from the proceeds of
the book very much more than they were entitled
to do by the agreement.

Some have tried to soothe the reproaches of
an outraged conscience by pretending "custom
of the trade." Why, then, is the practice
secret ? A " custom of the trade " is a thing
known and recognised by both parties to a bar-
gain. This is, of course, nonsense. They know,
and they must know, that they are THIEVING.

202 The Pen and the Book.

Now they have been enabled to take their
secret profits, first, by the ignorance of the class
whom they deceive : and secondly by the per-
nicious and foolish custom on the part of authors
of accepting their accounts without audit or
examination.

We have cleared away the first barrier to the
light. We must now clear away the second
which has come by the issue of these draft
agreements equally impartial.

Observe that no honest man can possibly ob-
ject to the free examination of his books by his
partner or co-venturer. To do so writes a man
down as a rogue. This fact furnishes a most
simple test for any publisher. If he objects to
his partner seeing and auditing the account, it
must be with intent to cheat, or with the guilty
consciousness of having cheated.

The right of audit in every partnership, or
quasi-partnership, as is involved in a profit-
sharing agreement, is not a thing to be extorted
and demanded. It already exists. It is a right
by common law. If a publisher were to deny
the right of audit, a court of law would compel
him to produce all his books and to prove every
item.

In a profit-sharing agreement the publisher
can be called upon to prove the bills for printing,
paper, and binding, the monies paid for adver-
tisements, the number of copies received from
the printer, including what is sometimes a con-

Dishonesty and Fraud. 203

siderable item, the "overs" (i.e., when a thou-
sand copies are ordered, the machine nins on
generally for a few more copies, some of which
are used to make up deficient or spoiled copies,
while the rest are sent to the publishers). He
can be called upon to show the number sold, and
to prove the amount received on account. As
regards the advertisements, he can be called
upon to show what money he has actually paid :
to charge that sum, and no more. There are
firms which make large secret profits by a<Jver-
tising their own books in their own organs and
by charging for them. That they also charge
for exchanges for which they pay nothing is not,
therefore, surprising. Now to claim the right of
doing this is in reality to claim the right of
sweeping the whole profits into their own pockets.

For example, the sale of a book results in a
profit of £50. The firm has two magazines.
By giving the book advertisements to the extent
of £25 in each, the whole profit goes into the
publishers1 pockets. But the advertisement in-
creases the sale of the book ! Does it ? When
the magazine has a sale of many thousands this
may be the case : when it has a small sale only,
it is very doubtful whether an advertisement of
any kind in it can do the thing advertised the
least good.

I heard recently of a firm which held out
as a distinct advantage offered by them to
their authors, that they only charged half the

204 The Pen and the Book.

usual tariff for advertisements in their own
magazines. Generous, noble-hearted souls !
The authors, they trust, are too silly to see that
they have no right to charge anything for the
use of their office and their machinery — and that,
whatever they charge, they keep the right, as
shown above, of taking as much of the profits as
they please.

Again, under a Royalty system, what check is
there on the returns? Nothing but an audit.
Thus we must learn : —

(i). The number ordered of the printer.

(ii). The number delivered to the binder.

(iii). The number sold by the publisher.

(iv). The number left.

The only possible way of securing honesty is
by making dishonesty dangerous and difficult.
The best way to effect this is by calling for an
audit on every return. The way must be led by
authors of position. As soon as they can be
persuaded to take the trouble, and go to the very
small expense of sending an auditor, the chief
danger of dishonesty will be removed, because it
will then become necessary to have accomplices
in fraud among the clerks — a very perilous
position.

I have used the words dishonesty and fraud
freely, because it is as well to call things by their
right names. At the same time I have been told by
a counsel, learned in the law, that it is not certain
that a publisher who spends £90, and puts down

Dishonesty and Fraud. 205

£120, could be tried at the Old Bailey. How-
ever, in the year 1897, such a case was tried at
the Court of Cassation in Paris, when the fol-
lowing judgment was pronounced :—

" When, in the carrying out of a contract be-
tween publisher and author, the publisher, in
order to increase his profits, and reduce those of
the author, renders accounts which dissimulate
the real numbers of copies in the editions, and at
the same time falsifies his books to make them
agree with the accounts rendered, this combina-
tion of fraud and falsification presents the
character of the crimes of forgery and of the
employment of forged documents."

A method of providing books with stamps
which shall be a check upon dishonesty, has been
proposed by various persons. My late friend,
Prof. Frederick Gruthrie, F.R.S., once elabor-
ated a method of putting the author's stamp on
every book sold. Mr. Pearsall Smith also pro-
posed a stamp in the case of American editions.
And I am informed that such a system has lately
been advocated by Mr. H. Southam.

The idea is very simple. The author is to
issue so many stamps. One is placed in every
book that leaves the publisher's hands. The
publisher is bound by his agreement not to send
out a single copy without the stamp. At first
the public would not notice whether the stamp
was there or not, but they would soon learn to
expect it, just as they now expect the omnibus

206 The Pen and the Book.

conductor to give them a ticket and to click his
tin box. If he did not do so, the people in the
omnibus would know that he was defrauding the
company. The method certainly has advantages.
It would give some trouble, but not much : the
rest might be recognised by a small drawback in
the royalties of every hundred copies — one boy
could certainly stamp many thousands of volumes
in a week.

The danger seems to lie in the possible imita-
tion of the stamp which must be different for
each author. Such a forgery, however, would be
too barefaced and would require confederates.
A publisher's face might lengthen at having to
use the stamp : he would openly bewail the sad
lack of confidence between man and man : he
would go to church of tener in order to show his
profound honesty, but he would not forge : it is a
thing too dangerous. We have not yet been able
to convict a publisher in a criminal court for fal-
sifying his accounts, however much we know that
he has done so : until this event happens he may
go on falsifying his accounts ; but he would not
commit forgery. There, if you please, the good
man's fears would draw the line.

CHAPTER VII.
THE METHOD OF THE FUTURE.

WHEN a book is printed and bound and adver-
tised, the publisher says that he has published it.

Not at all : he has only printed and bound and
advertised it. Its publication remains still to be
performed.

The publication of a book is not only its pro-
duction, but also its exhibition for sale. It is
not published unless it is offered to the public.
The bookseller, in fact, completes the publica-
tion. The publisher offers it for sale to the
booksellers. In another chapter I speak of the
bookseller's present position. At present it is
sufficient to state that out of the enormous num-
ber of books produced, not the most wealthy
bookseller can afford to stock more than a very
small proportion. What becomes of all the rest ?
They are not published at all ; or they are most
imperfectly published. Hundreds of books are
produced every year which are never offered to
the public for sale, or are offered only by a very

208 The Pen and the Book.

few booksellers. A certain number are taken by
the circulating libraries, but, of unknown writers,
very few. The rest are never heard of or seen :
they have no chance. Go to the nearest book-
seller and look round his shelves. How many of
this year's new books do you see ? Ask for one.
There is always the same reply : " We have not
got it in stock, but we can get it for you."

We have seen the claims set up by the pub-
lishers in every form of publishing : we have
seen also the unlimited nature of these claims
because the percentages are left open. It is
clear, therefore, that the methods of the future,
unless they are to reduce the writer to mere
slavery, must include freedom from those pub-
lishers who endorse and put forward these pre-
tensions. They must also include a very marked
improvement in the position of the bookseller.

Briefly, therefore, the method will be this.

The author will dissever himself altogether
from the publisher, and will connect himself
directly with the bookseller and the libraries.
He will appoint an agent or distributor, to whom
he will pay a commission. He will take upon
himself the printing and production and adver-
tising. He will himself incur the risk, if any, of
a loss on the first run of the book.

This is the simple method of the future. We
will now compare the results of the old methods
with the results which will be obtained by the
method of the future.

The Method of the Future. 209

One thing only is necessary, an agent who will
work the books honestly and with zeal, and will
not publish in any other manner than for the
author.

The latter will thus save, to begin with, all
the percentages and charges which the publisher
claims the right of putting into the account.

Let us, however, state a case. I would put
algebraical symbols instead of figures, so as to
show the proportion, but perhaps they would not
be generally understood.

Suppose, therefore, that the whole cost of the
book has been £150, and that the returns are
£400, or a sale of about 2,400 copies, less presen-
tation copies, or 2,340 for author's royalty. Let
us see what the author would receive on a half-
profit system ; a 15 per cent, royalty ; by giving
a 15 per cent, commission to an ordinary pub-
lisher ; or, lastly, by this method.

(i). A half profit system.

£ s. d.

Cost of production ... 150 0 0

Swelled by secret percent-
ages, advertisements not
paid, etc 45 0 0

By " incidental expenses "

not explained ... ... 500

Author's share of profits 70 0 0

Publisher's „ „ 70 0 0

£340 0 0

210 The Pen and the Book.

£ *. d.
By sales 400 0 0

Less 5 per cent, for bad
debts, and 10 per cent,
for office expenses ... 60 0 0*

£340 0 0

(ii). Royalty to author of 15 per cent.

By sales, 2,400 producing at 15 per cent, on
6/-, reckoning 13 as 12, £97.

(iii). By commission, giving the publisher

15 per cent.

£ s. d. £ s. d.

Cost, as above 150 00 By Sales... 400 0 0

Advertisements Less de-

(secret) ... 45 0 0 ductions

Publisher's com. 51 0 0 as before 60 0 0

" Incidental ex-
penses" ... 500

Author ... 89 0 0

£340 0 0

* Are there no bad debts ? Yes. But the publisher's
accounts are made up a year after the first run of the book.
Suppose he enters, which I believe to be the case, just the
money actually received. To subtract for bad debts then is
to reckon them twice over.

The Method of the Future. 211

(iv). On the new method.

£ s. d. £ s. d.

Cost of pro- By Sales ... 400 0 0

duction ... 150 0 0
Agent's Com... 40 0 0
Author . 210 0 0

£400 0 0 £400 0 0

In a word, there is the sum of £250 to be
divided between author (to whom the estate be-
longs) and publisher.

First method. The publisher receives £180 and
the author £70.

Second method. The publisher receives £153
and the author £97.

Third method. The publisher receives £161
and the author £89.

Bj the last method the agent receives £40
and the author £210.

But will the book sell as well ? Quite as well.
The experiment has been tried and it has suc-
ceeded. Quite as well. The public care nothing
about publishers' names. The bookseller gets
the book more cheaply, and by other means, which
I am not allowed to explain, is placed in a better
position to offer the book than by the old method
of dealing.

All that is wanted is an agent, or a publisher,
who will deal with none but commission books,
who will take his commission, and no more : and

212 The Pen and the Book.

who will produce none but books which are
certain to be taken up by the public.

I call this The Method of the Future, and I
advance this prophecy with confidence, because
after many years of hope against hope I find no
other solution of the difficulties possible. We
have asked of the publishers, vainly, for fourteen
years, one or two simple concessions involving
bare honesty. One of these is that we are to
know what share of our property goes to them
by any agreement. Another is open books with
the right of audit — we have that right, but the
exercise of it is met with the bitterest hostility.
A third is that nothing shall be charged that is
not paid for. They have maintained a steady
silence. They have scornfully turned a deaf ear
to the perfectly reasonable demands of the very
people by whom they live. Their last act (in
their " draft agreements ") has been to demand
the right — as their right — to take for themselves
whatever they please — to overcharge what they
please — to give the author — owner and creator of
the property — only what they please. The one
idea of the publisher is to make the bookseller
his slave and to take from the author all but a
wretched dole of his own property.

It is, then, worse than useless : it is incon-
sistent with self-respect, to go on repeating these
demands. Since we cannot obtain even a con-
temptuous consideration of our claims, we must
cease to repeat them : we must go elsewhere, and

The Method of the Future. 213

take the management of our property into our
own hands. " If," said a great bookseller to me
once, " if authors would only do this, they would
be amazed by the result."

Will this method do away with the necessity
for a Literary Agent ? Certainly not. In the
case of novels, the volume form is generally only
one stage. In the case of other books, the
author will be as little able to manage the
printing of his book as he has always been un-
able to manage any part of his affairs. The
Agent will put his book through the press for
him ; receive his money ; and keep the distribu-
tor provided with copies of his book.

BOOK III.

CHAPTER I. — THE LITERARY AGENT.

WE now know the nature of the claims advanced
by the Committee of the Publishers' Association
in their draft agreements. They claim to re-
peat nothing short of the power of seizing
upon the whole of literary property — the whole
of it : of course, they will not be allowed to
do so, but how should the author protect him-
self ? This book and the publications of the
Society of Authors should enable him to know
at least the nature of his property : the truth
about the administration of literary property,
and the meaning of any claims that will be
made upon him. If he is a strong man, and
one who has plenty of time he will protect him-
self by sending in an agreement of his own.
Probably he is not conversant with figures and
is not strong, and has no time to spare. In that
case there is but one thing for him to do. It is
not to put himself into the hands of a solicitor,
because literary property is a thing of which

The Literary Agent. 215

solicitors, with one or two exceptions, know
nothing. He must put himself into the hands
of a Literary Agent, who will manage his affairs
for him on a commission.

The Literary Agent has now become almost
indispensable for the author of every kind, but
especially for the novelist. For he knows, not
only the way to protect his client against pub-
lishers, but he knows, as well, the requirements
of the periodicals — those which want articles and
serials : those which are filled up : those that
will be open at certain dates : the same kind of
wants and openings in America : the way to se-
cure copyright in America : and all the other
various and separate rights of the author, what-
ever they are.

Some writers do not like the idea of paying a
commission of ten per cent, to an agent. But if
their own work is doubled and trebled in value :
if they are kept free from the constant irritation
and suspicion created by dealing directly with
publishers : if they are kept free, also, from
pecuniary worries, and find that their only Busi-
ness trouble is to accept or refuse ; if they
are left to do their own literary work without
any consideration of the commercial value : and
if the Literary Agent does all this for them,
surely he is dirt cheap at ten per cent.

The publisher, however (in his draft agree-
ments), claims for himself all rights. He leaves
no place for the Agent : he will relieve the

216 The Pen and the Book.

author of all doubts and anxieties by taking
everything. He wants serial right : translation
right : dramatic right : colonial right : conti-
nental right : volume right — all. The Literary
Agent perhaps allows him to purchase these
rights, not altogether, but one by one : or reserves
each for separate arrangement with other firms.
As for dramatic rights, he does not allow the
publisher to purchase them at all.

Here is an instance of what an agent may do
for a client. Some time ago, a publishing house
offered a novelist £120 for all rights — every
right— in his new story : it was a religious
house : the heart of the secretary throbs and
thrills with the purest and holiest religion. The
author refused, and put the work in the hands of
an agent. He received (i) £250 for his English
serial right: £100 for his American right: a
royalty of 20 per cent, here, and of 15 per cent,
in America for the volume right : and a certain
sum for his continental right — was it not worth
the while of this man to go to an agent, or, at
least, to become a member of the Society of
Authors, which has enabled such things to be-
come possible ? In all probability he would not
by himself have time to negotiate his separate
rights : nor would he know how to secure his
American and other rights.

Great care must be taken in employing an
agent. There are many who profess themselves
agents. I know of two literary agents whom I

The Literary Agent. 217

am prepared from my own experience to recom-
mend, both for probity and knowledge. I have
heard of literary agents actually and secretly re-
ceiving money from publishers for bringing them
authors, which is exactly the same as if a solici-
tor took money from the other side. Nothing
could be baser than this breach of trust. And
there is no doubt that bribes are offered to any
agent who is thought capable of being corrupted.
At the same time, the bribe, in the case of a good
writer, must be great, in order to induce him to
make lower terms than he would otherwise grant.

For instance. There might be a question be-
tween a royalty of 22 and one of 25 per cent, in
the case of a popular author. Let us see how
this would work out.

In the case of a sale of 10,000 of a 6/- book
the author on the first royalty would receive
£660 and the agent £66. In the latter royalty
the author would receive £75Q and the agent
£75. If the agent was dishonest he might
accept, we will say, the lower royalty on a bribe
of £50, which would still leave the publisher £40
extra profit on the job.

There is, however, one safeguard. If these
things are done, they are found out, sooner or
later. There is not any kind of business which
requires fuller confidence of integrity than that
of the literary agent. One such trick discovered
would ruin him for ever.

The question arises whether an agent can do

218 The Pen and the Book.

anything for a young writer, or for a writer who
wishes to produce a single book on his own sub-
ject. As regards the former, I am in some
doubt. I do not think that, as a rule, the agent
cap do very much for a first book, z>., a first
novel. The writer will probably get little or
nothing by it except, what is certainly of the
highest importance to him, his first appearance
before the public. He gets his chance. If his
first venture is not largely circulated — it is not

^of ten that a first book is a great success — he may
get talked about and so the way be prepared for

* future work. There are first books which turn
out to be veritable gold mines, but they are very
much the exception. Let the writer, therefore,
who has done well with his first novel, take his
second to an agent. I have, however, heard of
cases in which an agent has placed a first novel
on advantageous terms.

As regards the placing of articles in magazines
I cannot understand that a young writer, a
writer with no reputation, can be helped in the
least by a literary agent. All he has to do is to
offer his MS. to be read by the editor. An
agent can do no more. In the case of papers by
well-known writers, of course, that is quite
Different. The agent can make special terms for
them, and can thus greatly improve their position.
For the specialist, the literary agent ought to
prove highly useful : he can protect him from a
bad agreement and he knows where to take the

The Literary Agent. 219

book for a good agreement. There are pub-
lishers to whom an agent will never go unless his
client wishes it. If jou want to know who they
are, wait till you hear them talk about the literary
agent. They cannot hold their tongues : about
once in six months they plunge into the papers
with a shriek. Then pick out the most violent,
and set him down as the most deeply injured, and
as the most dishonest. The writer of educational
and scientific books has hardly as yet begun to
go to the Literary Agent : partly because he has
not yet realized how he is exploite: partly because
he does not like the thought of paying commis-
sion : partly because he does not believe that an
agent can help him : and partly because he
cannot be got to believe in the disclosures made
by the Society of Authors. Always hip "publisher
whispers, perhaps over a bottle of champagne,
that the statements of the Society are all lies.

Sometimes, it is true, but not so often as he
should, the scientific writer or the educational
writer sends his agreement to the Society of
Authors for examination. Even then he does
not always take the advice which he receives.

Now the Literary Agent goes with his own
agreement in his hand and offers it to be taken or
refused. This attitude reverses the ordinary
conditions of things and presents the author as
an independent person offering employment on
stated conditions to the publisher. The other
arrangement, which we wish to reverse, makes the
publisher offer employment to the author.

220 The Pen and the Book.

The bitter hostility with which the literary
agent is regarded by the publisher abundantly
proves to those who know anything the advan-
tage of employing the agent. Else Avhy this
virulent animosity ?

The genesis of the agent is as follows : —
The Society of Authors, with great pains, has
investigated, discovered, and published the whole
meaning of publishing, viz. : The cost of com-
position, printing, paper, corrections, binding,
moulding, and stereotyping ; the amount gener-
ally expended in advertising ; the price exacted
by the trade ; the more common tricks practised
with impunity upon authors ; the barefaced over-
charges which men who wish to be regarded
as honourable have tried to persuade themselves
were honourable. All this knowledge had been
most carefully hidden away and kept dark up to
that time. The Literary Agent then appeared on
the scene. Some of us wanted him to become a
part of the Society of Authors, but at the time
the society was not strong enough to make that
a safe position. He is, therefore, independent.
Armed, however, as he now is with a full know-
ledge of the whole business of production and
sale, he has been able to meet the publisher, for
the first time, on an equal footing. It is now
one bvisiness man with another : and one knows as
much as the other : it is the introduction into the
publishing trade of that open competition which
belongs to other trades.

The Literary Agent. 221

It may be objected that this information is in
the hands of all writers who choose to read it.
That is true : but it is, with most writers, one
thing to read about it and another thing to act
upon it, particularly when a publisher assures
him with a serious and even a religious and
Christian air, that the figures of the society are
utterly false, or wholly misleading, or contempt-
ibly impossible — an assurance which is very
solemnly offered to credulous writers every day in
certain publishers' offices.

Now all the figures given in the Author are
actual figures taken from printers' estimates, etc.
How have they been met by publishers ? Three
or four instances will suffice.

1. One person wrote to the Athenaeum, boldly
stating that he could not produce books at the
figures proffered by the society.

I was then chairman, and I replied offering to
do all his printing on those terms. He said no
more.

2. Another person, writing to deny the cor-
rectness of our figures, calmly added two sheets
to the estimate. This, of course, did the trick,
until he was exposed.

3. Another ingenious gentleman wrote offer-
ing certain figures which he invented, as the
trade terms. His firm the very same day sent
out a "private and confidential" circular, of
which a copy was at once sent to me, informing
booksellers that they could not have books on

222 The Pen and the Book.

the terms quoted by their partner. Of course, I
exposed this person publicly, and the ingenious
one had nothing to say.

4. A fourth person laid it down as a principle
that certain books must be of a certain length.
With this proviso, which was easily proved to be
quite unfounded, he triumphantly proved that our
figures were quite wrong.

I was able, in fact, to show at once by cases
adduced, that his law of length did not exist, and
therefore his " proof " was bowled over.

He then added that I had made a certain state-
ment in the Author, which I had repeated, he
said, without the slightest qualification. I asked
him to give me the references to these passages.
Then came shuffling. First, he said he was out
of town ; then he said that he did not like being
addressed by a solicitor ; then he shuffled a second
time ; then he shuffled a third time ; then he
shuffled off and on for six months ; then I placed
the matter in the hands of the committee of the
society, and at last he refused to give those
references, thereby allowing it to be understood
that he had invented that passage and that repeti-
tion " without the slightest qualification."

Now an ordinary writer calls upon a publisher
and hears all these allegations : he knows noth-
ing about the figures or the practices connected
with them : he cannot believe that the polite
person, in the arm chair, who belongs perhaps to
a White Lily League, or a Dolls' Hospital, or an

The Literary Agent. 223

Anti-Vivisection Society, or the Brick Lane
Branch of the National Temperance Association,
is lying : he thinks the Society of Authors must
have wickedly invented those figures : he gives
way : he signs whatever he is told to sign and he
goes away, having ignorantly placed the whole
of his literary property in the power of a per-
son who means to have it all.

The Literary Agent acts differently. The
publisher knows that it is no use trying on little
tricks about figures with him. They are two
men of business talking together in an office :
the matter is approached solely from a business
point of view. There is no champagne. When
the Literary Agent comes away, either the inter-
ests of his client safeguarded or the book is in
his pocket still, to be taken elsewhere. For these
reasons I recommend most strongly the employ-
ment of a Literary Agent in the conduct of an
author's business.

CHAPTER II.

IN SEARCH OF AN EDITOR.

IN this part of my work I suppose that the
reader has already produced a MS. which he is
anxious to see published, and that he desires to
submit this work first to some editor for appear-
ance in his magazine or journal.

I. Let him put out of his mind absolutely the
idea that any editor is open to "influence." I
have myself written for most of the leading
magazines, and I have made the acquaintance of
most of the editors. I do not, however, know a
single editor whom I would dare to attempt to
" influence."

Yet I constantly receive letters from young
writers, begging me to use my " powerful in-
fluence " — it is always put in this gratifying, if
mistaken, manner — to get their work accepted.

Consider the position. An editor is placed in
charge of a magazine, whose interests he is
pledged to advance by every means in his power.
If he were to allow himself to be moved by pri-
vate influence, he would simply betray his trust.

In Search of an Editor. 225

There is but one way to approach an editor,
and that is by offering him good work. If the
paper suits his columns and is above the average,
he will certainly take it : if it suits the talk and
mood of the day and is equal to his average, he
will certainly take it : if it is of doubtful interest
and not above the average of his paper, he will
hesitate about taking it.

If these facts are duly kept in mind, they wih1
perhaps prevent a good deal of disappointment.
Nothing is more common among people whose
work has been proffered and declined than to
attribute their failure to lack of influence.

II. There are many complaints against
editors : they are said to keep MSS. too long :
they send them back in a soiled condition : they
lose them : they refuse to pay until a County
Court summons is threatened, and then they pay
a wretched fee. All these complaints are well
founded, but only as concerns a certain low class
of editor : they have been published, with many
more, in the columns of the Author. The reader
may, however, take courage, because these com-
plaints, although they are literally true and
matters of fact, are for the most part true only of
low class struggling journals whose proprietors
seem to be capable of any meanness. These
people, in fact, do not return MSS. : they keep
them and put them in when they are probably
forgotten : they do not pay until they are obliged :
they lose MSS. : they spill beer over them. But

226 The Pen and the Book.

a writer may generally assume that with the
better class periodicals, though he may be offered
less than he anticipated, he wall be treated with
courtesy and will have his MS. returned to him
if it is not used, provided he falls in with the
rules of the magazine as announced with every
issue.

III. — How then is the writer to make choice
of the most likely magazine ? He must first
consider what magazine would best suit his sub-
ject. If it is an article on a solid subject : a
work of reasoning and argument : a work of
historical research : a serious critical paper : he
should send it to one of the three or four leading
monthly magazines.* If it is a light social
paper, or an essay on contemporary manners, or
an account of some journey, or a chapter of
biography, there is a choice among the shilling,
sixpenny, and threepenny magazines, or even the
penny weeklies. If it is a short story, there are
all the magazines from a shilling down to a
penny open to him. If he sends it to one of the
latter, let him avoid the struggling papers, and
go straight to those of the largest circulation.

IV. — Then comes a very important point —
that of length. It is obvious that where it is the
practice to devote four columns to a particular
kind of article — a story, or essay, or adventure —
it is suicidal to send in a paper of six columns.

* These are the Nineteenth Century, the Contemporary,
the Fortnightly, and the National.

In Search of an Editor. 227

" But," says Inexperience, " the editor can cut it
down." My friend, the editor cannot waste his
time in the correction of contributions. Find
the average length in the journal you select, of
such a paper as you have written, and be careful
not to exceed that length. Thus in Longman 's
Magazine for August, I find that the current
serial story occupies twenty-six pages or 13,000
words : a paper on " Locusts " takes nine pages
or 4,500 words : a short story, thirteen pages or
6,500 words : a talk over an old book, nine pages
or 4,500 words : another story, nine pages or
4,500 words : an historical paper in fifteen pages
or 7,800 words : another story, six pages or
3,000 words.

These details should be instructive. They
show the aspirant what he may consider a fair
length for his own article if he is submitting it
to the editor of Longman's : about the same
length will serve for all the monthly magazines.
If, however, he attempts a weekly paper he must
get one or two, and make a similar list of the
length of papers — perhaps Chambers' Journal
would be as good as any for this purpose.

V. One would advise next a clear handwriting
and a fair copy free of corrections. If he can
get it type-written, so much the better.

VI. A copy should be kept in case the one
sent is not returned. Before sending it to another
paper, write to the editor of the first and state
politely your intention of doing so unless he has

228 The Pen and the Book.

been able to accept it. Then he cannot complain
of discourtesy. Stamps for return must be sent
with the copy. It has been argued that the
editor ought to pay the postage. Without going
into this controversy I would remark that the
editor's answer to such a claim is severely prac-
tical. He will not send back the MS. unless the
postage is paid. When that is done, he will send
it back leaving his contributors to argue among
themselves on the abstract question of right as
regards the postage of stamps. He is, you see,
the master of the situation.

VII. When a writer has obtained some repu-
tation, and not till then, he will be justified in
attempting to make his own terms with an editor.
A beginner must remember that the editor gives
him what he wants most — an Introduction.

VIII. Let the young writer remember that
every journal has its own clientele : that his best
chance is to make friends in as many papers as
possible : so that he should not put all his eggs
into one basket.

IX. Let him be careful always to sign his
name. It is the only way to become known and
to become popular. If editors refuse him this
right, let him cast about for another editor who
will allow it. But it is seldom refused.

X. A very common mistake is for the young
writer to send in a MS. unfinished or uncorrected.
intimating that he will correct it in any way indi-
cated by the editor. The editor has no time to

In Search of an Editor. 229

indicate, or to correct, or to revise. He must
have everything sent to him finished and polished,
and corrected, and ready for publication.

XI. The question of pay and the rate of pay
is very difficult to answer. There is no fixed
rate of pay with many journals. With others,
a guinea a page, the page varying from 500 to
1,000 words, is a common sum to offer. There
are special terms made with authors whose name
carries weight, but with these we have nothing
to do. For a short story of two or three columns
in a weekly, the author may expect as many
guineas and sometimes will have to take less.
The writer who is beginning will do well to make
no demur at anything that may be offered at the
outset. He will accept everything, and will
simply make a note that such a journal, since it
pays at so low a rate, must be avoided for the
future, while the fact that his work has been
already accepted will do him a certain amount of
good in offering his next paper to another journal.

XII. I have already spoken of what is
wanted in general terms. Whatever the writer
works at, both his subject and his treatment
should be attractive : that is the first rule. If
he works at fiction, let his stories be dramatic
and his style pleasing. There are writers who
carry off a lack of dramatic interest by their
charm of writing — but they are rare — let the
young novelist aim at dramatic effects.

XIII. As a last rule, which is a repetition.

230 The Pen and the Book.

Above all things, do not at first try to live by
writing for the magazines and journals. Let
them be a help, but not a means of livelihood, if
you value your reputation, your independence,
and your self-respect.

CHAPTER III.
JOURNALISM.*

THE openness of the profession of Journalism
gives it a peculiar charm for certain young men
with brains and spirit. Anyone who can readily
put pen to paper, and who has some perception
of what manner of things his fellows wjll be
interested to hear of and to read, commands at
once, as it seems, a facile avenue up which he
may amble or even dart to fame and fortune.
It is an attractive conception, and largely a mis-
leading one. In no respect is it less true than as
regards the fortune. There are several wealthy
proprietors of journals in London, but no rich
journalists.

Not the least remarkable condition of the jour-
nalist's career is the obscurity in which he carries
on his work. There is no other large body of

* (The following pages are written by a professional jour-
nalist. They are designed, to show what the profession of
journalism means : what is the method of conducting a daily
paper : the different kinds of work open to a journalist, and
other subjects which may be helpful to the candidate.)

232 The Pen and the Book.

workers about whom so little is known to the
general community. People read newspapers,
and could not exist without them, but the reader
seldom reflects that there is any other source for
these publications beyond the newsagent's coun-
ter. This state of affairs is the natural result of
the traditional practice of Anonymity in the
Newspaper Press. The writer of newspapers has
always been to the reader an impalpable force,
unidentified in any single individuality or group
of individualities, and even surrounded by a
glamour of mystery. Even now, however, this
unnatural indifference to the writers is in process
of a noticeable change, as the result of a growing
individualist movement on the part of a few of
themselves ; and it is not unusual to hear a jour-
nalist discussed over a City luncheon table or in
a West-end drawing-room.

Let us visit the office of a London " daily morn-
ing." If one of what newspapers call " the general
public " happens to visit in daytime the office of
a morning paper, he is puzzled at the air of com-
plete desertion which the place wears. He
wonders how an establishment manages to pre-
serve such a quiet exterior even up to six o'clock
in the evening, and yet gives him at eight on the
following morning the whole of the day's news ;
collected by an immense variety of hands ;
printed carefully with the view of training him
to look on a certain page for the market intelli-
gence, on another for the foreign telegrams ; and

Journalism. 233

on a third for the editorial criticisms of the
world's proceedings. All this has been done
while he was enjoying a quiet evening at home,
or was at the play, and even while he slept.
The advertisement-receiving business of such a
newspaper is carried on, of course, all through
the day, up to seven o'clock, but this is quite
apart, and not till six does the first of the editorial
staff begin to arrive at the office. The editor
himself, however, generally the most hard-worked
as well as the supremely responsible member, has
already been engaged for an hour or two. He
receives callers by appointment in the afternoon,
and with his secretary goes through the day's
correspondence. The people who write to editors
are of all classes, from the cabinet minister to the
carter, and the requests that he receives are of
infinite variety.

A hundred subjects crop up in the postbag,
and before he goes off to dinner the editor has
also to see the diary for the day's events, settle
as far as can be done at that early hour what
the subjects of the night's leading articles are to
be, discuss a political question with a leader-
writer whom he has summoned to see him speci-
ally, and leave instructions for other leader-
writers as to the work they are to take up when
they arrive at the office at ten o'clock. Just be-
fore he leaves at seven the editor receives from
the chief sub-editor, whose staff is by this time
at work opening and dealing with reports, a

234 The Pen and the Book.

statement of the number of columns the adver-
tisements will occupy, and the editor notifies the
" sub." of any special articles that are expected,
and for which space must be allowed in the
measurement. If the advertisements, speeches,
etc., are very heavy, the editor decides that the
paper must be larger than usual, a ten-page or a
twelve-page issue, a point of great importance,
as it involves an extra expenditure of perhaps
£60. Having dined at home or at his club, the
editor returns to the office at half-past ten, when
everyone is in the thickest of the work. Mes-
sengers are passing into the various rooms with
proofs from the printer, the editor receiving
proofs of everything, each sub-editor, those with
which he is concerned, and the leader-writer a
proof of the speech or item of news upon which
his article is to be founded. Eight or a dozen
reporters, whose work has been apportioned
on the previous night by the chief reporter, —
this engagement to the one who knows ecclesi-
astical matters particularly well, another to the
reporter who knows scientific affairs, and so on
— soon have returned from their engagements,
and are writing up their " copy," which is then
handed over to the sub-editors. There may be
six, eight, or more sub-editors, and their work
consists of going through all the " copy " that
comes in by hand and telegraph from reporters
in town or country, striking out superfluous
phrases here and mischievous or possibly libel-

Journalism. 235

cms statements there, and sending the material
lay a slide or lift to the printing department,
marked with instructions as to the kind of type
it is to be set in. In a well-regulated office
each sub-editor has his own department of news
to look after. When the report of a police-
case arrives, the chief sub-editor passes it on to
that one of his men whose special charge is the
police-reports. As each batch of the " copy " of
a long political speech is delivered at the office
by a telegraph boy, it is handed by the chief to
another sub-editor, or (if the hour is late) is is dis-
tributed among several, in order that it may be
punctuated and given to the printer without any
loss of time. A labour report goes to one sub-
editor, a cricket or racing meeting is dealt with
by another, a law report by a third ; and from
half-past six to two o'clock the sub-editors' room
is a scene of constant but silent activity. In
another room the foreign sub-editor is receiving
despatches from all parts of the world. Some
are from Renter's agents, others from the Cen-
tral News agents, and still others from Dalziel's
agents, but greatest prominence is given to des-
patches from the paper's own correspondents, as
these telegrams are exclusive to it while the agency
telegrams are sent to every newspaper which
orders and pays for them. Special correspon-
dence is more costly, but most of the London
morning papers have correspondents of their own
in the capitals of Europe and in New York,

236 The Pen and the Book.

while The Times covers the whole world with
highly-qualified men. How important a service
of exclusive information may be to a newspaper
was exemplified in the first half of the year 1898
in the case of the telegrams sent by Mr. George
A. Morrison, its Peking correspondent, which
enabled The Times to acquaint the world with
the Russo-Chinese negotiations affecting our in-
terests at the Chinese Court before the British
Government itself knew of them. In another
room of the editorial office, or in several, are the
leader writers, perhaps writing against time and
with the printer's boy on the carpet asking for
more copy. All through the night the editor
and the associate-editor are being applied to on a
thousand points ; the printer sending down page
after page of the paper for his inspection before
it goes into the foundry to be cast ; the leader-
writer waiting for instructions ; the proof-reader
with a particular query which nobody but the
editor himself can settle ; and a messenger an-
nouncing that a personage has called with most
important information relating to South Africa,
for which he wants a good price as well as a guar-
antee of secrecy as to the source. The drafting
of the contents-bill, which comes on as midnight
approaches, is in some offices done by a subordi-
nate, but it is often done by the editor himself,
and the latter arrangement is preferable, for no
one appreciates so exactly as the editor the sell-
ing value of a line on the bill, or distinguishes so

4

Journalism. ''237

clearly what items of the day's contents are likely
to " draw " the public. Further on, the literary
editor is turning over the day's book$ in the seclu-
sion of his own chamber, assigning 'each that he
judges worthy of notice to its reviewer, with
possibly a word of instruction as to space if l^he
reviewer is known to be loquacious, but without
any instruction at all in most cases. An assistant
takes charge! of these books, keeps a record of
each as it is sent out, and passes them on to the
despatch department.

The literary department of the newspaper is
a modern growth and a most remarkable one.
To The Daily Chronicle, under the editorship of
Mr. A. E. Fletcher, belongs the credit of bfiag
the first to inaugurate a distinct department for
the daily review of books — a departure which
was, perhaps, looked upon rather jealously by
the exclusively literary organs. These papers,
however, are happily strong enough to Jhave
large publics of their own. Other morning
journals followed the lead of The Chronicle, and
gave increased attention to the literary side,
without which no paper is to-day " possible."

In the London press, as a whole, the review-
ing is well done, and singularly free from malice.
A reviewer of many years' standing, who has in
his time reviewed works for a number of papers,
told the writer that he never received from any
editor a hint as to how a book should be re-
viewed— favourably or otherwise. The literary

238 The Pen and the Book.

movement is an active force in the provinces
also. It must be remembered, however, that
publishers of books court reviews on any terms.
Whether the reviewer expresses himself as well
or ill impressed by a book, or as not impressed
at all, does not greatly matter, so long as it has
secured the publicity of being reviewed. In
other words it is recognised that reviews do un-
doubtedly influence readers, and must have an
effect on the sale of books. Reviewers are only
in a few cases all-round journalists ; they are a
class by themselves, many of them purely
critics, others themselves authors as well as
critics.

A man does not always enter journalism in
the deliberate way in which another attaches
himself to his life-profession at the very outset.
Before he has become a journalist — probably
drifting into the profession, though not so much
by chance as rather in the natural process of
finding one's level — he has often pursued other
callings. If journalism be described as a refuge
for those who have failed to get a footing else-
where, the description is, therefore, at least so
far accurate, in view of the fact that so many
have left those branches and adopted journalism.
But the description fails utterly when it is in-
tended, as it commonly is, to imply reproach to
the standing of the profession. The old saying
which consigns to the Church those who are not
blessed with talents for anything, cannot by the

Journalism. 239

subtlest casuistry be adapted to suit journalism ;
for in journalism very definite and exceptional
talents are required, and moreover, it is a field in
which there is no kind of beneficent sentimental-
ity under whose shade the incompetent may be
sheltered in high position. As the school of
practical life, also, is the most indispensable
training-ground for the journalist, it is more
likely to be a positive advantage to him if he
approaches his career after having been at work
of a different character, because in that case he
has inevitably gained experience which will be
of value to him in a hundred ways. To say that
no knowledge comes amiss to the journalist is only
to express a very exact truth. There is no reason
why he should not know the Bible and Shakes-
peare, and if to these he adds an acquaintance
with Milton, so much the better. He need not
have had a classical education, though that is an
advantage in his equipment. The more languages
he knows besides his own, the more lucrative
position he will be able to command, but the
least of his acquirements in this respect must be
a workable knowledge of French and German.
Also, a distinguished journalist once advised the
young journalist who possessed £500 to spend it
all in travelling ; which is an excellent thing to
do, as nothing broadens and informs the mind so
much as travel. History he must know from the
roots, and especially he who starts to-day in
journalism should not neglect a close study of

240 The Pen and the Book.

the history of the United States, a country which
is probably destined to go hand in hand with
Great Britain, if not to lead it, in the future
march. With all these the journalist requires
training in the faculty of interpretation, and this
is probably best got in the graduated work of a
newspaper office, although of the leaders in jour-
nalism it may be said that they are born with it.
On the correctness of his instincts much depends.
In the office of a great paper, witnessing the
phases of the whole outer world as they present
themselves to the corporate institute of the Press,
studying how every beat of the pulse of its
readers is answered and their minds on national
and parochial questions of every kind interpreted
by a good newspaper, the young journalist is in-
troduced to a responsible acquaintance with his
calling. This training in the faculty of exhaus-
tive observation he receives usuaUy in the pro-
vinces. London itself is too specialized to
be a good preparatory school : it is the finish-
ing academy, the goal, and is much too busy
to find time for training men in the initiatory
stages. The best experience is gained on
newspapers in Manchester, Leeds, Edinburgh,
Glasgow, Liverpool, and other provincial centres
which have a large variety of institutions. These
papers, again, draw a proportion of their men
from small country papers. The reporter has
been earning, say £l a week on a weekly paper
in a small town, increased to 30/- or 32/- weekly

Journalism. 241

by correspondence for city papers, which pay him
either by a fixed salary or on space rates. At
length he is offered a post on one of the city
papers, which, although it may not give him
much more money than he has been earning,
means a certain step to earning more, and a posi-
tion carrying more prestige. On a large provin-
cial morning paper he wih1 be the " junior " man,
paid at £80 or £90, which if he stays and gets a
reputation for proficiency will increase on a first-
class staff to £250, and higher in the case of
chief-reporters and good men with long experience.
While the majority have no ambition beyond the
provincial newspaper and steady wages, there are
always a few whose talents call for a wider
sphere of activity ; for these London contains
many allurements. These come to London on
the first opportunity, which occurs either when
they are sent to the metropolitan office of their
own journal, or when a London paper searching
for new blood makes a tempting offer to them.

The reporting of political speeches is now prac-
tically left to the sole charge of the press
agencies. When Dickens was a reporter papers
sent their own men into the country by stage
coach to report political speeches. At a later
day a few papers would combine to get a report
done, each sending one man to work with the
others. To-day a corps of reporters attend im-
portant political gatherings and does a report
for the whole of the newspapers of the country.

242 The Pen and the Book.

This is 'the work of the agencies. The reports
are telegraphed from anywhere and delivered on
the sub-editor's desk at 10/- or 15/- a column.
A newspaper often sends one of its own staff to
such a meeting, however, in order to write a
special descriptive account. Another effect of
the press agencies has been the abolition of
the miscellaneous worker — the " penny-a-liner."
There are, of course, hundreds of men who are
paid at the rate of Id. a line, but the " penny-a-
liner " in the old somewhat disreputable, Bohe-
mian sense has disappeared. Thirty years ago
Fleet Street was a very different place from what
it is now. These were the days of the " penny-
a-liner." Careless of dress ; careless of life ; his
day perpetually afternoon when things were
flourishing ; and who, when he had to go without
a meal (or without two or three meals at a time)
accepted the inevitable with philosophic grace ;
this man lived purely on his powers of observa-
tion and his readiness to seize opportunity. He
was not industrious ; regular labour of any kind
would not have suited him. He followed his own
feeble will. To-day a long description of a
horrible murder ; to-morrow a brief paragraph
about the feeding of swans in the park ; an
account of some extraordinary occurrence ; the
unearthing of a foreign revolutionary who had in
him all the makings of a hero — on no subject was
the pen of this nomad not exercised. He loved his
pipe and his glass and his friend ; very often, he

Journalism. 243

loved his glass too well. In his favourite tavern in
Fleet Street he foregathered every evening with
half-a-dozen fellow-journalists. Every district
and every incident had its penny-a-liner. Now
all this is only a memory. The profession has
risen steadily in tone and ideals. The nomad
has died out ; the drunken journalist is to be met
with strictly par exception. Exterior circum-
stances have borne their part in effecting this
change. Life is more rapid, not in one but in every
field of activity. In the newspapers the first re-
flection of every movement is seen, and on the face
of the newspaper itself there is printed to-day,
for those who have eyes to see, unmistakable
signs of steadiness and regulated industry. The
day of the drunken journalist is over ; the bril-
liant but erratic person who worked to-day and
drank through the rest of the week has been
displaced by the vigilant, steady man who works
every day, and whose " copy " can be depended
upon to arrive in time. But the principal factor
in the abolition of the " penny-a-liner " has been
the Press Agency. In London the Press Asso-
ciation, the Central News, the National Press
Agency, and the Exchange Telegraph Company
principally, supply the papers with all newrs of a
routine character. Their reporters cover the
whole field on behalf of hundreds of papers who
subscribe to them throughout the country, and
by reason of the number of their subscribers they
are able to supply intelligence at a much lower

244 The Pen and the Book.

cost than each of the papers would spend if each
kept men of its own to collect the common news.
The effect of the news agencies has been felt
also in the Gallery. Service in the Gallery of
the Houses of Parliament was at one time one of
the highly-prized positions which the journalist
desired. To represent one's paper in the mother
of Parliaments will always be a coveted honour,
but the Gallery to-day is no longer the pinnacle of
greatness it was considered ten and fifteen years
ago. When newspaper* combined to cheapen
their parliamentary reports, they formed an
association which does the same reports for hun-
dreds of papers, and, therefore, does not leave to
the individual journalist the same great chance
of making money which he had formerly. Twelve
years ago the journalist, besides having greater
opportunities to earn extras in reporting, might
easily write half-a-dozen " letters " from the
Gallery for different papers, weekly, bi-weekly,
and daily, and draw a guinea a-piece for them.
Now the Press Association and the Central News
supply Parliamentary reports and " letters " to
hundreds of papers at the rate of about 10/- a
column. Many Gallery men in those days earned
£20 a week, and sometimes more, right through
the Session. To-day it is a big week which pro-
duces £10, and the nominal pay is about £6
weekly. Exclusive of leader-writers and the
staffs of the news agencies, there are sixty men
in the Gallery for the London papers, and a

Journalism. 245

similar number for the provincial papers. The ,
largest staff is that of The Times, which num-
bers sixteen, including a summary writer. Most
of the London men are " annuals " : that is, they
are attached to their journal on a yearly salary ;
while the greater part of the provincial paper
men are " sessionals," which means that they are
paid only for the time Parliament is sitting.
When Parliament is not sitting the " annuals "
are at the beck and call of their paper to share
in the ordinary work, but they have usually a
large amount of leisure. The " sessionals " are
less fortunate, and have to depend on chance
Law-Court work or any jobs from their offices
during the recess. Lobbying is one of the most
onerous and irksome duties of the Parliamentary
journalist. There are about forty lobbyists, who
do not, as a rule, enter the Gallery in the course
of the day at all. They mix with the Members
in the Lobby, secure information about appoint-
ments to Committees, watch party intrigues, and
in general read the outward signs of the whole
inner movement of party politics. This work
requires a great amount of tact, and the Lobbyist,
whose salary ranges from £300 to £500 a year,
is frequently consulted by his editor as a guide
in shaping policy.

A man who enters the profession through the
gates of reportership is liable to become mechani-
cal in his work and limited in his outlook. Scores
of men have been expert shorthand writers, and

\ 246 The Pen and the Book.

have desired to go no higher in the profession.

v They can " take down " the fastest speaker and
render a faithful transcription of his speech, but
ask them to summarise in a few sentences the
pith of what has been said and they are helpless.

, The journalist is only a journalist when he is an
all-round man, and he must not be a mechanical
worker. Therefore, if one has been trained as a
reporter he must assimilate all the experience of
*his probationary years, and at the same time
divest himself of the mechanical habits which his
work in that period has induced. At the present
day shorthand is becoming less and less a neces-
sity to the journalist. It is now to be regarded
as merely an accomplishment, an instrument to
^e taken up and laid down at will. If the varied
knowledge of life is secured without undergoing
a shorthand-reporter ship, the young journalist
will lj.ave escaped the danger of falling into the
mechanical rut. He may at once write, and if
he writes with knowledge, discrimination, and in
simple, direct language, his work will be accepted.
Another way of entering the profession in
London is by becoming secretary to a journalist
of eminence, whose good word, generously given
when it is deserved, will be valuable in after
years, when the secretary himself is seeking to
take his place in the senior ranks. It must not
be supposed, however, that personal influence
alone can secure a post for a man. An idea
commonly held in some circles is that posts go

Journalism. 247

by favour : that if one knows an editor intimately
or personally, his future is as good as assured,
however poor his ability. Nothing is more
absurd, and the beginner ought to sweep such an
idea clear from the horizon of his hopes and
fears. If the stranger bears an introductory
letter from one journalist to another, undoubtedly
a certain deference is secured for him — for jour-
nalists are the fairest of friends. But this does
not carry the stranger far. Only so far that
when he sends in his first article it will be kindly
regarded : a special lookout will have been kept
for it, and if it is good enough it will be printed.
Then if the editor wants to order a special piece
of work to be done and there are two men he
knows who are equally capable of doing it, he
will give it to the one who has been recommended
by his friend. The important fact to be grasped,
therefore, is that good work is the one and only
standard by which an editor is guided in Accept-
ing contributors to his paper. He will not offer
a position on his staff to any man until he is
satisfied that he is a ready and^a well-informed
writer, and that his copy can be depended upon
in every way. Young contributors who send
contributions to any or every paper in turn, have
a trick of believing in their jealous hearts that
their articles have been returned without being
looked at, but a moment's reflection should con-
vince them that one of the reasons of the editorrs
existence is to pick out the good articles from the

248 The Pen and the Book.

enormous number of all kinds that he receives.
The term " good " is employed here in the edi-
torial sense, because an article may be interesting
and well-written, and yet have to be rejected
to make room for another which has no other
qualification than that of being suitable to the
public interests of the moment. An article on
the North Pole, for example, would be useless
to an editor when the roar of battle is in
the ears of the nation. At such a time the
demand would be for articles on the regiments
that have been sent to the front, the career of
the General or the Commander of the Fleet, the
character of the enemy, picturesque accounts of
the territory in which the engagement is likely
to be fought out, and suchlike. It is not
necessary here or in any book whatever to say
what subjects should be chosen by the free-lance ;
that is, the man who, without being attached to
one paper, sends his article to several in turn,
according as he thinks it will be likely to suit the
readers of a certain one. There is no rule. The
journalist judges for himself what is uppermost
in the public mind ; each able writer has a test
of his own for knowing what new subject the
public will be interested in reading about at the
morning or the evening meal, and he goes to
work to produce that. The market is large :
there are something like 25 daily, 50 weekly
(including the illustrated journals), and 70
monthly papers and magazines that are open for

Journalism. 249

articles of a general character. The choice of
material is wide as life. No subject nowadays,
from the portraits of Christ to a fight in the
House of Commons, is debarred from discussion
in the daily newspapers. The persons to be
encountered here and there in the world who
would have a newspaper exclude reports of
scandal and vice, may be assured that so long as
scandal and vice are allowed to happen in the
world the newspapers will continue to give to
such occurrences the moral reprobation of pub-
licity. When Mr. Balfour not long ago made
a daring excursion into literary criticism, and
declared that the mine of fiction was worked
out, Mr. William Black asked the statesman to
be reassured, for (he said) so long as the world
contained two men and a maid, there would be
fresh plots and situations for the novelist's pen.
It is so with journalism. The informative
article describing the nature and resources of the
latest part of China to be grabbed by Russia
gets a place in the columns beside an account of
the latest invention in flying machines. A criti-
cism of the new Prisons Bill from the point of
view of the habitual criminal ; a " society "
description of the duchess's ball ; an article
treating rain as the music of the spheres — noth-
ing comes amiss. Picturesqueness in the style
of telling is another factor in successful daily
journalism to-day. Simple bald facts satisfied
the London papers of ten years ago, but now-

250 The Pen and the Book.

a-days the high-pressure living has created a
demand for brief, animated, vivid pictures of
events. It is necessary to tell the facts in a terse,
striking manner. The reader must be led on
through a continuous narrative to the end, and
not be obliged \o leave off with a yawn when he
is only half-way through. This requirement of
picturesqueness is good for the journalist, be-
cause it gfves him more opportunity of stamping
his individuality upon his work, and differentia-
ting himself from "the crowd." At the same
time he must not write round his subject. A
merely literary man is likely to fall into this
error ; he lets the facts wait upon the method.
To get and state the facts is the journalist's first
consideration ; he is writing for the hour, not
for posterity. If he tells his story with polished
literary effect, so much the better, but even if
literary form be poor an article will stand an ex-
cellent chance of admission to newspapers if the
writer possesses the journalistic nose, and has
run to earth the most interesting, or entertaining,
or amusing, phases of his subject. Not more
than five in every hundred throughout the whole
vast army of newspaper readers will detect a
split infinitive in a sentence ; but the commercial
man will drop his paper impatiently if for two
mornings it neglects to quote the market price of
certain stocks he is interested in ; the lady will
be grievously disappointed if there is nothing
about the Princess and the bazaar and no news

Journalism. 251

of the music world ; the cricket enthusiast will
vote the paper mad if it does not contain a
description of his county's great victory ; and
every honest (and dishonest) man and woman
will instantly abandon to its hopeless fate a
newspaper which fails to show them daily the
true tragedy of other people's lives.

The weekly journals demand a literary treat-
ment of a subject, and the magazines an extended
treatise upon it. Chance contributions are less
frequently sent to weekly journals than they are
to daily papers, as a weekly is produced more
leisurely, and there is time for known contributors
to be requisitioned. In the monthly magazines
and reviews, however, the scope is the widest
possible, for with certain exceptions there are no
regular contributors to them, and the names of
new men appear every month on their title-pages.
The Quarterly and The Edinburgh reviews are
written by scholars and theologians. The highest
experts of every branch of knowledge and in-
dustry contribute to The Nineteenth Century,
The Fortnightly Review, The Contemporary
Review, and The National Review. Less impo-
sing and more purely literary magazines are The
Cornhill, and Longman's. The average pay of
the best monthly magazines is a guinea a page.
Special articles, of course, are paid at special
rates. An eminent statesman who is an authority
on certain questions once wrote an article for one
of the monthly reviews, and when the editor

252 The Pen and the Book.

asked his opinion as to the cheque he replied that
he never wrote for less than £75. Editors, how-
ever, are reputed to be confident in their own
estimate of the value of contributions, and in this
case a cheque was drawn for £50 and duly for-
warded. American magazines are very liberal
when there is a big man to be booked on this side
of the Atlantic. They will instruct their agent
to offer as much as £100 for an article by, say,
a political party leader. In this way American
magazines secure exceptional contributions, for in
their boldness they offer a large sum to the very
topmost authority, who, possibly, is by no means
a regular writer, and whom the London editor
has not dreamed of approaching. One form of
literary effort that is tempting to magazine con-
tributors may be profitably repressed, namely,
the laboured critical literary essay. Its day has
gone ; the world is too much occupied to care for
the ordinary essayist's estimate of the genius of
Marlowe, Swift, or Browning. The young writer,
however, would be well advised to direct his
talents to any other field of production rather
than the literary essay. He may observe, for
one thing, that humour is sadly to seek in our
English magazines, and he may be assured that
originality in humour is certain of open arms any-
where. At the same time there are a few writers
from whom a literary essay is always welcome.
Need one mention the names of John Morley,
Leslie Stephen, Dowden, and Saintsbury ?

Journalism. 253

There are a few great prizes in London editor-
ships, prizes of £2,000 a year and upwards.
Many men are earning from £500 to £800 in the
ordinary branches ; and a few specialists as much
as £1,500 or £2,000.

Leader- writing is usually paid at from three to
five guineas a column. It is desirable to aim for
a position on the staff of a paper, either by being
paid a salary or being guaranteed regular work
which will be paid at space rates. Sub-editors
receive from four to eight guineas weekly. The
ordinary London reporter who attends meetings
earns from £4 to £6 weekly. A descriptive
writer or an interviewer earns £8 or £10 weekly.
Some reporters and descriptive writers are on the
staffs of the papers at an annual salary, while
others, the majority, are paid at space rates— Id.
to 2d., and in some cases 3d. per line. Religious
journalism is badly paid, with certain exceptions.
Trade journalism pays, as a rule, well ; and
fashion journalism also. The latter, which must
be taken to include the ladies' page and the
" weddings " departments of the daily paper,
affords the best chance for women, who are not
seen to advantage otherwise in the bustle of work
which a daily paper requires ; they are lacking
in the invaluable quality of humour, and too
often deficient in the capacity to write ordinary
English, besides being physically unable to com-
pete with men in the wear and tear of daily
journalistic life. For daily journalism is emphati-

254 The Pen and the Book.

cally a career for the young and the strong ; not
for old men (there are very few men in it over
fifty years of age), nor for invalids, and hardly
for women. Above all, vigour and bravery are
required in the war correspondent, an art which,
however, since the best days of Gruneisen,
Russell, and I^orbes, has greatly decayed ; the
opportunity for personal distinction in securing,
and cunning contrivance in despatching, news
from the battle-field having almost disappeared,
and been replaced by precise regulations on
behalf of each army for superintending and
limiting the correspondent's facilities and facts.
Esprit dc corps in the profession is maintained
by the Institute of Journalists, founded in 1889,
which is at the present time establishing a provi-
dent fund whereby members will be able to insure
against incapacitation, and also on the system
which allows the insurer to receive a return for
his money after a certain number of years ; by
the Press Fund, a wealthy institution, dating
from the sixties, for helping journalists in cases
of breakdown, and their families when they die ;
and by the Press Club, to which a fair proportion
of the rank and file belong.

The question of anonymous as opposed to
signed Journalism, is one that intimately con-
cerns the entrant to the profession to-day.
Opinion is widely at variance on the prospects of
the new practice of signed articles. One school
of journalists clings to the belief that the corpor-

Journalism. 255

ate WE is the secret of the power of the English
press ; the other, a small one, is all for individual
recognition of the journalist's merits. The Nine-
teenth Century does not admit to that review any-
thing that is not signed, and the monthly periodi-
cals, as a whole, publish very few articles with-
out the writer's name. In the popular illustrated
magazines everything is signed. In the weekly
press The Spectator holds strictly to anonymity,
but The Saturday Review, under its new manage-
ment, appears every week with many signed con-
tributions. In the daily press the practice of
signing special articles has grown remarkably
during the last few years. The St. James's
Gazette and The Pall Mall Gazette, among the
evening papers, and The Daily Mail and The
Daily Chronicle, among the morning ones, are the
chief papers to countenance it regularly. Occa-
sionally The Daily Telegraph has a signed .criti-
cism or social article, and more frequently The
Westminster Gazette, but no daily paper publishes
signed leading articles, while The Times, The
Standard, and The Morning Post do not publish
signed articles in any part of the paper. There-
fore, " the childish imposture of the editorial WE,"
which Mr. John Morley declared sixteen years
ago to be " already thoroughly exploded," is still
prevalent.* Men, like the editor of The Standard

* Did Mr. John Morley understand the meaning of the
Editorial "We?" I am told by an old journalist that it
represented not the paper at all, but the general public, whose
views the Editor professed to set forth under this pronoun.
— W.B.

256 The Pen and the Book.

and the editor of The Guardian believe, doubt-
less, in the increased power which a man may
wield if little is known about him by those over
whom he is placed. Mystery is always attractive
to the average person, who, if he is favourably
impressed by one whose personal acquaintance he
does not enjoy, will exaggerate his good qualities,
and if not, he will magnify the bad ones. As
British editors may fairly be said to possess in
the public sight only good, disinterested qualities,
the respect of their readers for them is never in
doubt. But, if a curious individual were to ask
any six men in Piccadilly, or Cheapside, on any
morning of the year, the name of the editor of
The Times or The Standard, of The Daily
News or The Daily Chronicle, or the names of
any of the distinguished writers in these journals,
the chances are greatly against one of them
being able to do aught but appear surprised at
the question, and apologetically confess his ignor-
ance. They do not know any of the men who
write for the papers, and the very editors, men
who influence every day the life around them,
are unknown by name and unrecognised in indi-
viduality.

It is objected that signed Journalism takes
away freedom of expression ; obviously this may
be the result in the case of men who are not
strong enough to back their opinions, but with
the best and most conscientious journalist it need
not be so. Indeed, it is not so : many living

Journalism. 257

writers might be mentioned whose criticisms are
not less outspoken because they are signed ; on
the contrary, they seem to be written the more
carefully and with a keener sense of responsi-
bility when the name appears. Certainly, they
are not the less vigorous or fearless than are the
contributions of anonymous writers. That a
section of the public appreciates a change which
allows them to know whose opinions they are
reading, and which shows them the journalist as
an honest, intellectual worker, unshrouded by any
artificial mystery, is undoubted, and indications
of this, as has already been mentioned, are grow-
ing. Signed Journalism (its advocates may be
supposed as saying) is like placing a banquet of
carefully-reasoned opinions before the reader, and
leaving to his judgment the selection of what
dishes suit his palate and digestion ; whereas with
anonymous journalism he is ostentatiously directed
as to what he should eat. The present writer has
asked for the opinions of many leading editors
and journalists upon the subject. These opinions,
as was to be expected, differed widely.

Those who object to the signing of articles do
so on the ground (1) that the influence of the
papers would be lessened by the signing of
articles : (2) that there is no marked increase in
the number of signed articles : (3) that the
anonymity which shields its writers has largely
contributed to its character for incorruptibility :
(4) that personal journalism leads to blunders

258 The Pen and the Book.

which are impossible under the restraints imposed
by the traditions of great papers : that while a
specialist's opinion carries additional weight by
the use of his name, it is not the business of the
editor to fabricate a bubble reputation for a casual
contributor : that the unsigned article is in many
cases a real joint effort, the collective opinion of
the editor and his staff: that in the case of signed
articles, the writer thinks first of himself, in the
other case, he thinks first of his subject : that
the leading article does not represent the views
of the writer, but the policy of the paper : that
a paper is not run in order to advance writers,
but to defend views and to disseminate intelli-
gence. Those who are in favour of signed
articles argue (1) that the traditional power of
the leading article, unsigned, never amounts to
much : (2) that the power of the individual writer
would be enormously increased, and with it the
standard of his work : that all articles which
express personal views should be signed : that it
is due to a good writer that his name should be
known : that signed articles are useful for expert
opinion : that the tendency is towards signed
articles except in the case of political leading
articles. There seems a prevalence of opinion
that whatever papers are signed, some certainly
should not be : that all expressions of personal
opinion should be signed, and that it would be
fatal to a paper if it were handicapped by being
connected with the " personality, the preferences,

Journalism. 259

the prejudices, the experiences of any indi-
vidual"

After all, the first and the last word about
presenixlay journalism, as well as about the
journalism of the future, so far as that can be
foreseen is that it is, and is likely to be, accom-
plished under conditions calling for the constant
and disciplined suppression of the journalist's
self. The present writer remembers to have
read somewhere, and admired, as a tyro in jour-
nalism, the opinion that the best journalist was
the one who lived in a cellar. Like all good
illustrations, this possibly exaggerated the idea
it was intended to convey, but the moral of it is
none the less clear. The journalist is a teacher
as well as a guide ; the real journalist is only one
man in five hundred. It is not a crowded pro-
fession ; there is plenty of room for good men,
especially at the top. There, the journalist must
be superior morally and intellectually to those
whom he aspires to instruct and guide. He
must also hold aloof from the ordinary public
and personal entanglements of life. Every
movement must be viewed from the outside : like
Tourgueneff, the best journalist is the " born on-
looker " ; but with this addition, that he must
also be a man of action. To be an onlooker in
events, and yet not a sharer in them, secures the
proper degree of impartiality and impersonalness
which in a journalist are among the highest re-
quirements. His part in life may be likened to

260 The Pen and the Book.

one who, unseen, sails every day in a calm,
judicial atmosphere, over, but not too far above,
the haunts of men, witnessing the heroic deed
and the common tragedy on the land, reading
from every point a lesson, and then with fresh-
ness and point directing affairs so that they may
lead to the result which only a beneficent and
liberal mind, believing disinterestedly in the
future of mankind, can conceive. He plays
many parts ; if he choose, he can enter any
society whatever. In a brilliant picture of
London greatness, drawn by a Voltaire of the
future, he will compare with the favoured citizen
of Athens, who, after listening to Pericles in the
Assembly, and worshipping with Phidias in the
Parthenon, could adjourn from a play of So-
phocles to a supper with Aspasia — with the
important restriction, however, that the supper
must be over before midnight to allow the
London editor to drive to Fleet Street in time to
write his " leader " for the morning paper. A
man of principle, as well as of assurance and
talents, the editor in the first rank to-day must
possess the courage of the soldier, the sympathy
of the poet, the practical sense of the statesman.
No position affords so great a scope for unselfish
genius ; none is so varied in its interests and
outlook ; none so attractive to the mind which
is content to watch the influence for good it may
work from behind. " Give yourself royally,"
murmured the dying Carlyle to Professor Tyn-

Journalism. 261

dall when asked for a last message ; and it is
no presumption to say that this maxim is acted
upon in the profession of Journalism torday, no
less than it has been in the days of Barnes and
Delane and Macdonell.

CHAPTER IV.

,THE RELATIONS OF THE BOOKSELLER AND
THE AUTHOR.

IN Literature there are but two persons, pro-
perly speaking, concerned. There is the writer,
who creates, and the bookseller, who distributes
his work to the public. Between these two has
sprung up the publisher, who is not in reality
wanted in the production of current general liter-
ature. That is to say, a simple committee of
authors and booksellers could manage with ease
the whole of the production of general literature.
There might be other committees for the manage-
ment of scientific and technical literature ; others
for educational literature, and so forth. But the
creator and the distributor are the only two
actually necessary. It should, therefore, be the
chief aim of the creator and distributor to come
more and more into touch, and to work together,
quietly and experimentally at first ; but yet to
work together. Such a committee as this, if
once formed and prudently managed, would be
able to supersede the general publisher altogether.

Relations of Bookseller and Author. 263

I think that no one has ever jet pointed out to
writers the cardinal fact that they are entirely
dependent, not upon publishers, who can only
offer their books to the trade, but upon booksellers,
who offer them to the public. I am sure that no
one has ever exhorted writers to recognise this
fact loith the corollary that it is their boundcn duty
to do all in their power for the maintenance and
the prosperity of the bookseller. If he cannot
afford to " stock " books, how are books to be
published ? — for publication must include exhi-
bition for sale. They cannot otherwise be said
to be published. As a matter of fact — I have
already stated this, and I repeat it — there are
hundreds of books produced every year which
have no chance whatever, because they are never
exhibited for sale. The bookseller says, if they
are asked for, that he has not got them in stock,
but that he can get them.

Yet the bookseller and the author, in spite of
their community of interest, have been drifting
more and more apart. It is the policy of the
publisher to keep them apart. It should be their
own policy to come together.

It is admitted on all sides that the bookseller's
position was never worse than it is at this moment.
The love of literature ; the habit of reading ;
the buying of books ; are all increasing by leaps
and bounds ; yet the bookseller cannot live ; he
grows every day poorer. The worst feature of
the case is that his growing poverty is accelerated

264 The Pen and the Booh.

by the condition of his trade. These conditions
must be altered if the bookseller is to live at all.

Books are to-day multiplied to so great an
extent that even the more wealthy booksellers
cannot keep in stock all the books that might be
offered to the public, far less the poor country
bookseller. Remember what has been said of
novelists — tha.t in the list of W. H. Smith and
Son there are 1,300 ! How can a bookseller
have all the works of 1,300 novelists on his
shelves ? How many never get on any book-
seller's shelves at all ? As for high-priced books,
the bookseller does not dare to order them on the
chance of selling them. We have consequently
a state of things in which not only high-priced
books, but also the ordinary novels are never
exhibited at all, unless on the shelves of a few
booksellers. In other words, they are not pub-
lished. Booksellers simply cannot any longer
afford to subscribe books which they are not
tolerably certain to sell.

What are the causes of this depression of the
trade ? They are set forth in the report of a
sub-committee appointed by the Society of
Authors to consider this and other questions.
The following is an abridged version of this
report : —

(i). The 3d. in the shilling discount is gener-
ally advanced as the sole cause of the depression
of trade. This, however, is not the case ; there
are other causes. Besides, this discount is not

Relations of Bookseller and Author. 265

universal. Where the practice prevails, it is
quite clear that the small bookseller cannot live
by the sale of copyright works alone.

(ii). A second cause of the present position is
the depression of agriculture, which has inflicted
such enormous losses on country gentlemen,
cathedral and county clergy, and fellows of
colleges, all of whom were formerly buyers of
books.

(iii). The competition of drapers, who have
added cheap books to their other wares.

(iv). The partial loss of the educational book
trade, whether of elementary or of higher schools,
which is now often carried on direct between
schools and publishers.

(v). The practice of many free libraries,
which deal with the publisher, or the wholesale
agent, instead of the local bookseller.

(vi). A want of energy and " push " among
booksellers as a whole. It is quite evident that
if the mass of people are to buy books they must
have books, like everything else, offered to them.

Other causes, not mentioned in this report,
may be adduced. For instance, the real risk of
the book trade, namely, the reception of a book
by the public, has been shifted by the publisher
upon the bookseller, who can ill afford to bear it*
He has to buy whether he is able to sell again or
not. Then the terms offered them are ruinously
hard. For instance, a book published at 10/6
costs 7/2 and sells at 8/-. One at 2 1/- costs net

266 The Pen and the Book.

14/3 and sells 15/9, the profits being materially
less than their office expenses. Publishers refuse
to recognize that the discount system exists.
They keep to the old terms which were adopted
before the discount system. Therefore, the profit
to be divided between author and publisher is out
of all proportion to that allowed the bookseller,
who buys a book on the chance and risk of selling
it. Again, the cost of production of the second
and following editions is very much less than that
on the first. An ordinary 6/- book can be pro-
duced for a second edition of 3,000 copies at 9d.
a copy. Does the bookseller get any better
terms for the new editions ? He does not. On
.such a book there is an actual profit of 2/10 a
copy, but the bookseller gets no better terms.
Of course the bookseller should be able to get a
book in second and future editions, at reduced
terms, while the author should have an increased
royalty. It is true that if the bookseller orders
twelve copies, thirteen are sent him, the return
for the price of twelve : or twenty-five as twenty-
four, or seven as six-and-a-half. But this odd
copy frequently proves a doubtful advantage.
That is to say, if he cannot sell the odd copy,
what good is it to him ? And, though he may
save by the odd copy in the case of a cheap
book, he cannot order largely of a high priced
book and so has to pay for single copies.

Again, the publisher puts in a claim for his
office expenses. But he refuses to make the

Relations of Bookseller and Author. 267

least allowance for the bookseller's office ex-
penses, which, in many cases, exceed the actual
possible profit.

Now, if the bookseller is swept away, how is
literature to be offered to the public ?

By means of the stores ? By means of the
drapers ? By means of grocers or any other
tradesmen ? Perhaps. That may be the fate of
literature. Remember, however, that a very
large class of book buyers are those who live in
the quiet country where reading is the favourite
amusement. If the bookseller of the country
ceases to exist, the stores cannot take his place,
because there are no stores in country towns, and
the drapers know nothing at all about new litera-
ture, and have so far only attempted the very
cheapest form of non-copyright books.

There is, however, a possibility of preserving
the bookseller.

(i). By improving the terms and letting him
have books at a lower rate. It is objected that
the booksellers will use this privilege in order to
increase the present rate of discount. But book-
sellers are not suicides.

(ii). By supplying the bookseller with books
on sale or return.

If this is done the shop may be supplied at
once with as many new books as the bookseller
chooses to take ; the public will be attracted to
the show of new books : there will be an appear-
ance of prosperity, which itself will help to induce
prosperity.

268 The Pen and the Book.

It is objected that many of these books will be
returned unsold and soiled. Perhaps. Whether
is it better that they should have their chance
and fail, or that they should be on the shelves
and be kept clean, but remain unseen and have
no chance of circulation ?

(iii). By abolishing the odd copy and having
a uniform price.

(iv). By the issue of non-copyright Avorks by
the booksellers themselves for themselves. This
they could do without any capital at all or any
expenditure.

(v). By forming collections of prize books for
their schools.

There are other expedients (see the " Method
of the Future," p. 207), but these suggestions
will suffice. I would not, however, omit personal
effort. What I, for my OAvn part, desire, above
all, is that the writer shall feel that the bookseller,
like himself, belongs to the book; that it is the
interest of the writer, whether the writer of one
book only or of many, in whatever branch he
may work, to maintain the bookseller. He is
absolutely necessary to the writer. The publisher
is not ; a distributing machinery may be started
by means of booksellers alone, or authors alone,
but no one can do without the bookseller.

What can be done for him, then, by individual
effort ?

A. great deal. Any one man may create, in his
own town, public opinion, and maintain it, in

Relations of Bookseller and Author. 209

favour of buying the books for the free library
or the village libraries of the local bookseller ;
the school books of the local bookseller ; the
prize books of the local bookseller ; and indeed
all the books wanted by the country people, of
the local bookseller. It is possible, too, to
awaken the public to a desire for beauty in the
appearance of their books ; to make them loathe
ill-printed books on vile paper even though they
are offered for a few pence. My chief desire, I
repeat, is to awaken in the mind of my reader —
a literary aspirant — a sense of brotherhood be-
tween the author and the bookseller. I am
convinced that the former has it in his power
materially to benefit the latter. And I hope that
the bookseller will learn to turn to the author as
his friend for help and, through him, to the public
for sympathy.

CHAPTER V.
COPYRIGHT AND LITERARY PROPERTY.

BY G. H. THRING,

Secretary of the Society of Authors.

IT will be the object of the following chapter to
consider the question of literature as property
protected by law. For many generations litera-
ture has been property, and has had a commercial
side, yet it has not been exclusively the property
of the author, its originator, nor has it returned
to the originator the pecuniary reward which he
should be entitled to claim.

As this property more than any other is the
actual production of the individual, one would
have thought that it ought, more than any other
property, to be his in eternal possession.

For many generations, however, the producer,
after publication, had no protection at all, and
has it now only for a limited time.

Literary property is treated in accord with the

Copyright and Literary Property. 271

doctrines of modern socialism, as, after a fixed
period, the public are allowed to scramble for it.

Literary property has no doubt from the very
earliest times been a source of livelihood, if a
poor one, to its founder. The ancient tribal
story teller kept himself alive in this way.

We may pass over the ancient and mediaeval
periods of authorship.

When literature began to be adopted as a
profession, that is, in the 17th century, the
literary man was always in a dependent position,
subject to a patron, the hack of a bookseller.

If he was not such a dependent he was one
who gained his living by other means and took
to literature as a pastime. So that there were
really two classes of literary men : those who
made a living out of literature, as Dryden; and
those who lived by other means, as Milton.

The first of these produced literary property,
and turned it to some commercial value to them-
selves.

The second produced literary property, which
they did not look upon as a means of livelihood.

In both these cases, in the first through ne-
cessity ; in the second, through carelessness, the
chief gains went to the distributor, the trades-
man.

Up to the statute of Anne, 1709, the first
copyright law, it is doubtful whether the exclu-
sive right of multiplying copies of an original
work existed. There was no statutory founda-

272 The Pen and the Book.

tion for such a right, and it can only have existed,
if at all, at common law. Although literary
property with a commercial value existed, the
originator, the author, had no exclusive copy-
right in his work, which anybody might reprint
and sell for his own advantage.

It is a curious fact, that may be noticed en
passant, that the laws which were originally
framed to protect the printer, have finally placed
the author, the real owner, in an independent
position.

Printing was first introduced into England by
Caxton in 1474, and almost at once the great
pecuniary value of it became evident. During
the beginning of the sixteenth century it does
not appear that the position of authors advanced
much as possessors of their own property. But
it appears that the Crown was trying to establish
a prerogative right over the printing of books, as
such right was likely to be of great pecuniary
importance, and in the early part of this same
century it appears that certain books were printed
under this prerogative right.

In 1556 the Charter of the Stationers' Com-
pany was granted, stating among other things
that no person in England should practise the art
of printing unless he were one of this society.

Here is, perhaps, the first evidence of the
increase in the value of literary property. In
fact, it had been at last brought "within the
range of practical politics.'

Copyright and Literary Property. 273

But still the author is not considered. It is
the tradesman who has to be legislated for.

The Stationers' Company was, in many ways,
a very powerful corporation. It had the right
of making by-laws which were as binding as the
laws of the land, and it had the power to prevent
others printing, and to search for and burn, and
otherwise deal with piratical works and works
against Church or State. This extract is suffi-
cient to show the influence that was thrown into
the hands of the printers. The Author must sell
to a member of the Stationers' Company or run
the risk of not getting a public hearing.

The next important event in the evolution
of literary property is the Licensing Act of
Charles II, 1662.

This Act again had practically no reference to
authors, but was brought in as a restraint on free
printing, and, with this end in view, it forbade
the printing of any book unless first licensed and
entered in the register of Stationers' Company.
It forbade the printing of books contrary to the
doctrine of the Church or opposed to the estab-
lished government.

The Act finally forbade any person from
printing or importing, without the consent of the
owner, any book which any person had the sole
right to print by virtue of letters patent or entry
on the register of Stationers' Company.

The penalty for infringement was a fine, half
of which went to the king and half to the owner.

274 The Pen and the Book.

This licensing Act was continued by various
subsequent Acts, but finally expired in 1679.

For some years the Stationers' Company
appear to have endeavoured to rule the whole
position, and passed by-laws with the view of
keeping control of the literary market and print-
ing presses.

In 1709 was passed 8 Anne, Chap. 19, what is
commonly known as the Statute of Anne on the
petition oft repeated of the booksellers and pub-
lishers.

It is still clear that the author had very little
voice in the matter of his own property. Yet,
whether he knew it or not, he gained a point
by this Act, and the Legislature for the first
time seemed to recognise that the author had
some property in the outflow of his own genius.

Clause 1 gave a statutory right to the author
for 14 years and no longer in the printing of his
work.

The Act also provided against unlawful print-
ing and importing.

Such piratical action to be liable to penalty.

There was to be registration at Stationers'
Hall, and finally it provided after the expiration
of 14 years that the sole right of printing or
disposing of copies should return to the authors,
if they were living, for another period of 14 years.

It was at a date subsequent to this statute,
after the first copyrights existing under it ex-
pired, that the great controversy arose concerning

Copyright and Literary Property. 275

the common law right of property existing in an
author as distinct from the statute law right.
The controversy was no doubt exceedingly im-
portant at the time, but it is hardly worth while
at this period to go into the " pros " and " cons "
of this vexed question.

It is sufficient to state that prior to the statute
some sort of common law right in literary pro-
perty, shadowy and undefined, existed. That
after the statute of Anne it was argued that
literary property was statute defined, and that,
therefore, no common law right existed.

After much disputation it was decided in
Donaldson v. Beckett that prior to publication a
common law right existed in the author ; after
publication his rights were statute defined.

It is impossible to see how the judgment on
the question of common law and statute right
could well have been other than as settled in
Donaldson v. Beckett, but it is easy to see what
a revolution in literary property would have
taken place if the verdict had been different.

The question of what amounts to publication
is of vast importance, but this is hardly the
place to go into a detailed discussion of the sub-
ject, even if space permitted.

The position of an author's property under
statute law varied but little during the next
century. Under a statute of Geo. III. the
author's exclusive right was extended for the
term of his life.

276 The Pen and the Book.

Musical compositions appear to have been in-
cluded under all these acts by implication.

Dramatic property, or rather the right of
representation, a most important branch of this
subject, appears to have escaped the notice of the
legislature until quite a late date. Dramatic
authors reserved their rights by not allowing the
words of dramas to be published. So that it was
impossible for any but a very diligent scribe to
obtain a complete copy with a view to acting the
piece. It is probable also that as there were few
theatres and few theatrical companies it would
not be worth any one's while to rob the author by
this method, but finally the position of the dram-
atist was defined, as it was decided in the courts
that acting a play was not publication, and there-
fore the common law right still existed in the
author until publication in book form. As it
appeared that an author's rights with regard to
dramatic representation needed some sounder
basis than a mere decision in the courts, a
statute was passed, 3 and 4 William IV, c. 15,
giving to the author of an unpublished tragedy,
etc., the sole right of representation, to an author
of any published dramatic piece the right of re-
produ^tion for a period of twenty-eight years, or
to the end of the author's life. This act has
been considerably varied and modified by the
great act of 5 and 6 Viet., c. 45. On this latter
act the law of literary property now depends.
It repealed all former acts dealing with book

Copyright and Literary Property. 277

copyright. Musical compositions were especially
mentioned in the definition of book. With resrard

O

to dramatic right, public performance under
certain restrictions is made equivalent to first
publication, so that after public performance the
dramatist's property in the right of representa-
tion is on the same lines as the author's after
publication.

Common law rights are also commensurate in
the dramatist before public representation, in the
author before publication.

It is now necessary to consider more particu-
larly and in detail what security 5 and 6 Viet.
c. 45 gave to the author.

Firstly, the definition of " book " was very
comprehensive. It included " every volume, part
or division of a volume, pamphlet, sheet of letter-
press, sheet of music, map, chart, or plan separ-
ately published."

The definition of " dramatic piece " included
every tragedy, comedy, play, opera, farce or
other musical or dramatic entertainment.

" Copyright " was construed to mean " the
sole and exclusive liberty of printing and other-
wise multiplying copies of any subject to which
the said word is herein applied."

The copyright was to endure for the life of
the author and for seven years, or for forty-two
years from the date of first publication.

There was a clause referring to registration at
Stationers' Hall, followed by clauses dealing with

278 The Pen and the Book.

questions of false entry, transfer of entry, ex-
punging of entry, etc.

Clause ""17 prevents piratical importation of
copies, and clause 18 refers to copyright in
encyclopaedias, reviews, and magazines, etc.

It is perhaps the worst clause that has ever
been drafted in an Act of Parliament. To
discuss its difficulties and to attempt to unravel
its mysteries is a task impossible in a short
chapter, 'but points of it will be treated later
when dealing with serial rights.

Clause 20 extends the term of copyright in
dramatic and musical compositions, making it
commensurate from the first representation with
that of a book.

The other clauses deal with questions of in-
fringement and minor matters.

This, then, is in brief the substance of the act
on which an author's property now rests as far
as England and the British Dominions are con-
cerned.

There are, however, two other matters which
bear greatly on the commercial value of this
property ; the first is the Berne Convention,
which was signed at Berne on the 9th day of
September, 1886, and confirmed by order in
Council under the International Copyright Act
of 49 and 50, Vic. c. 33, and which has been
further added to by the meeting of delegates at
Paris in 1896. The second the American Copy-
right Act of 1891.

Copyright and Literary Property. 279

International Copyright which culminated in
the Berne Convention has only been recognised
by civilised countries in the present centnry ; in
fact the first Act on the subject was passed in
1837, the first year of the Queen's reign. This
was repealed by 7 and 8 Vic. c. 12, which gave
larger scope for making copyright arrangements
with foreign countries. Under this Act conven-
tions were entered into with many states by
orders in Council, but the result of so many
different conventions was unsatisfactory and gave
rise to serious complications which might have in
time become even more involved, as the copy-
right laws in each of the states were different.

Accordingly, certain delegates of the follow-
ing nations met at Berne, namely : Germany,
Belgium, Spain, France, Great Britain, Haiti,
Switzerland, Italy, Tunis, and on the 9th Sept.,
1886, the Convention was signed.

It provided that authors of any of the countries
of the Union (i.e., the signatories to the conven-
tion) should enjoy in the other countries for
their works, whether published in one of those
countries or unpublished, the rights which the
respective laws do now or may hereafter grant to
natives.

The enjoyment of these rights was subject to
the accomplishment of the conditions and for-
malities prescribed by law in the country of
origin of the work, and could not exceed in the
other countries the term of protection granted in
the country of origin.

280 The Pen and the Book.

Then followed an exhaustive definition of
literary and artistic works.

Protection was given to translations as follows :

Authors of any of the countries of the Union
shall enjoy in the other countries the exclusive
right of making or authorising the translation of
their works until the expiration of ten years
from the publication of the original work in one
of the countries of the Union.

Authorised translations are protected as ori-
ginal works.

Other articles follow bearing on dramatic and
musical works, anonymous and pseudonymous
works, and the rights of the separate nations re-
served, etc. The delegates met again at Paris
in 1896, and amongst other things passed an ex-
tension of time as regards the protection of
/^.translations.

Since the signing of the Convention Norway
has joined the Union, 15th April, 1896.

This Union has naturally added greatly to the
security of author's property, and has also in-
creased its commercial value, as with the greater
intercourse between the European nations the
literature of the different countries gets more
widely spread. Authors with the greatest repu-
tations in all branches of literature, science and
art, are translated into many languages.

There was one blot, however, on International
Copyright which fell particularly hardly on
British authors. America had not joined with

Copyright and Literary Property. 281

the other nations, but still continued to pirate
English authors, and to rob them of the efforts of
their genius, without in many cases making the
slightest acknowledgment. This was not alL
In some cases mutilated editions were published
with the names of the authors, and still there was
no remedy. At last in 1891 the American Copy-
right Bill became law.

This Act gives copyright to authors in the
States subject to compliance with the conditions
and formalities necessitated by the Act. Pub-
lication must be simultaneous in the States and
the country of origin.

The books must be printed from type set up
in the States.

This latter condition is most ill-advised, and
contrary to the spirit of all International tiiegis-
lation.

To a limited extent the Act increased authors'
property and added to its commercial value.

Every step that confirms to authors the pro-
perty that ought to be theirs, yet is often taken
away from them by their governments, is a step
in advance.

What may be an ideal form of law for authors
will be dealt with later.

Having now brought the evolution of literary
property to its present statutory definition as
regards England and other nations, it will be
necessary to show what an author can do with
the property he has thus finally acquired.

282 The Pen and the Book.

He has the right, subject to certain statutory-
limitations and regulations, of reproducing copies
of his work.

This right again, owing to the development of
the commercial side of literature along certain
lines, has been sub-divided into distinct and
separate methods of reproduction.

The author of a work has : —

1. Book rights (the right of production in
book form).

2. Serial rights (the right of publication in
the form of periodical or magazine issue).

If the work is in dramatic form, he may have
in addition :—

3. Representation rights.
Under certain circumstances.

4. Lecture rights. (These rights exist prior
to publication in book form, as when lectures are
published in book form anyone may read them
as lectures or otherwise.)

It is only necessary here to consider the book
rights and serial rights, as, although the other
rights form undoubtedly part of the same pro-
perty, the term " literary property " has come to
be considered through restriction, in its use to be
mainly applicable to book and serial rights. The
most important of these rights, " Book rights,"
will be first considered. It is most important,
because thousands of works are never produced
in serial form at all. In the dealings between
the author and the modern publisher these rights

Copyright and Literary Property. 283

alone are generally involved, and these rights
alone have to be protected.

For many years past it has been the habit for
publishers who act as the middlemen between
the authors and their public to draw up the
agreements between themselves and the authors.
As nearly all the printed agreements have been
prepared from the point of view of the former, it
is a matter of considerable importance to put
before the author the ways and means to protect
his own property in these agreements. (See also
chapter on " The Author and the Publisher.")

The book rights may be dealt with in four
different ways : —

(i). By an agreement for sale outright, which
system will convey the copyright, and thus in-
clude the serial rights.

N.B. — This is the only form which will cover
the serial rights by implication.

(ii). By an agreement for sale on commission.
Under this method the author pays for the cost
of production.

(iii). By an agreement for profit-sharing. On
this basis the most usual agreement is a half
share of profits.

(iv). By an agreement for payment by
royalty. By which is meant a payment of a
certain percentage on the published, or advertised
price of each book sold.

All other agreements do not differ from these
forms except in combining the principles of two

284 The Pen and the Book.

or more of them into one. Generally such com-
bination is to the disadvantage of the author.

In considering the nature of the author's book
rights, as dealt with here, it will not be necessary
to discuss the question of the nature of copyright,
for with the exception of method No. 1, the copy-
right is always, and ought always to be, retained
by the author. It is sufficient to state that in
method No. 1, the author gives up all his
property, without limit or restriction, in consider-
ation of a lump sum as an equivalent.

(i). SUB -DIVISION BY COUNTRY. — It is
possible, and often necessary, to divide the rights
of publishing thus: to (1) Great Britain; (2)
America ; (3) the Colonies and Dependencies of
Great Britain ; (4) each Colony separately ; (5)
the Continent ; (6) the United States, etc. In
addition, under this heading, should be included
the rights of translation into different languages,
and in consequence the publication in translation
form in different countries.

(ii). LIMITATION BY TIME OK EDITION. —
It is possible to limit the right of publishing,
first, to a certain number of years, or, second, to
a certain number of editions. The first should,
as a general rule, be avoided, as it enables the
publishers of the book, if still selling towards the
end of the term, to print more than they can sell
within the period, and therefore to go on selling
the book after the limit assigned. It thus prac-

Copyright and Literary Property. 285

ticallj prevents the author from transferring his
rights except at a heavy pecuniary loss ; for it
has been decided in the Courts that a publisher
with a time limit has a right to continue selling
the stock in hand at the expiration of such limit,
but not the right of reprinting. A time limit is,
however, of considerable advantage to the author
in case he should be desirous of collecting his
works into the hands of one publisher, or of
otherwise reconsidering his position.

If, therefore, the author should be desirous of
placing a time limit in his agreement, he must be
careful, by a suitable clause, to protect himself
from the danger pointed out above.

The second is absolutely essential in educa-
tional, technical, scientific, and other works of
similar nature that require, through change of
ideas and discoveries, to be brought up to date
periodically. The author should be able to
renew the control of his work.

(iii.) LIMITATION BY FORM OF PUBLI-
CATION.— This is, qua works of fiction published
in England, limitation to the three volume, 6s.,
3s. 6d., etc. forms (other countries have also
recognised forms — America has i^ dollar, etc.);
qua, other books to the various prices common to
the trade.

It should be remarked that all the sub-divisions
in No. 1 are capable of the limitations 2, 3, and
vice versa, all the limitations under 2 and 3 are
capable of sub-divisions in No. 1. Thus the

286 The Pen and the Book.

book rights are capable of being divided into a
great number of minor rights, though in matter
of practice they are generally only divided into
the following : —

(1) Great Britain ; (2) the Colonies and De-
pendencies ; (3) the United States ; (4) the Con-
tinental (Tauchnitz) ; (5) Translation Rights ;
(6) Limitation by Editions ; (7) Limitation by
Form.

The author has now before him the nature of
his book rights, and he must be sure before sign-
ing an agreement that he is quite clear that the
portion of those rights he is giving away coin-
cides with those rights that he desires to transfer.

FORMS OF AGREEMENT.

It will be necessary to give a few general
notes and hints on the diverse methods of dealing
with book rights, giving a cursory view of the
systems to be avoided.

In pointing out methods and clauses to be
accepted with caution it does not follow that
agreements containing none of those here referred
to are therefore perfect. Faults of commission
are so much more easily discovered than faults of
omission.

Before entering further into the question of
these agreements, an author should clearly under-
stand that the assignment of the right of pub-
lishing, even if it continues so long as the legal
term of copyright is not an assignment of copy-

Copyright and Literary Property. 287

right. The verbal distinction may be slight, but
the legal distinction is large. The contract for
publication is a personal contract. To give one
of many differences, in a bankruptcy, if a pub-
lisher held the right to publish, the contract
would terminate, if he held the copyright the
book would become an asset of the bankrupt
estate.

(i). The sale of copyright is very much to be
condemned, and it is only admissible in the case
of " sale outright " — a method of publishing, not
uncommon, which must be adopted with great
hesitation and only with the advice of experienced
persons. Some writers, however, hold that the
best method of publishing is to sell the literary
estate outright, making sure that the price given
is such as to cover all reasonable chances of
success. If an author desires to capitalise his
rights, let him do so only after ascertaining, as
carefully as possible, what those rights mean.

It should be incidentally mentioned that it has
hitherto been practically useless from a pecuniary
point of view to publish any work of fiction on
commission, or, indeed, to pay anything towards
the production of this kind of literature. But com-
mission agreements are not only useful, but some-
times essential, for books of a technical nature ;
and in the case of these books, if the system is
carefully managed, the result to the author in the
end is, perhaps, more satisfactory than any other
form of publication. Another kind of publishing

288 The Pen and the Book.

on commission is now being introduced. If this
proves successful, it is destined to make a great
change in the publishing of the future.

(ii). In publishing on commission the author
should take care before entering into the contract :

1. That the cost of production is only that
which will be actually incurred.

2. That hte can prevent charges for advertis-
ing where no money is paid.

3. That he can keep control of the advertising,
the amount to be expended, and the papers
chosen for the advertisements.

4. That he can check the charges made for
corrections.

(iii). The third method is that of profit
sharing. This method cannot be too strongly
condemned on account of the complicated state-
ment of accounts which is generally rendered.
To an ordinary individual, publishers' accounts
are most difficult to understand, and in some
cases are intentionally made so. Even when the
bona-Jides on both sides is indisputable, cases of
difference of opinion are likely to occur. Either
the book is over-advertised, or advertised in the
wrong papers, and therefore the profits are re-
duced ; or the book is under-advertised and the
sales thereby curtailed.

Again, the amount charged for corrections,
which it is almost impossible to check, may lead

Copyright and Literary Property. 289

to a feeling of distrust, where especially (for a
profit-sharing arrangement is a quasi-partnership)
there should be confidence. The writer of techni-
cal books of all sorts should beware of this form
of agreement, as publishers often put forward
this method of publishing as equitable where
there is some risk of the sales not covering the
cost of production, or of the book going slowly.

If, however, the author desires to publish
under this system, he should obtain, before enter-
ing into an agreement, an estimate of the cost of
production from the publisher. To this he should
add the sum to be agreed upon in advertising,
over which he should retain some control, and an
approximate amount for author's corrections.
After reckoning the total that would arise from
a reasonable sale of the work, he should see
whether there could be any profit left to be
divided.

The words " incidental expenses " are often
inserted in a half-profit agreement, referring to
the cost of production. This term is very un-
satisfactory, and should, if possible, be struck
out. As, however, some publishers will not enter
into an agreement on this basis without demand-
ing some deduction for office rent, expenses, etc.,
it may sometimes be found policy to yield on this
point. In such a case the difficulty ought to be
met by some fixed sum, say 5 per cent., on the
cost of production of the book. This, though the
best attainable clause, is still unsatisfactory, as it

290 The Pen and the Book.

contravenes the great basis of all agreements
between the author and the publisher, namely,
that their interests should be in common. Office
expenses, of course, if they are considered by one
of the three persons concerned with the sale of a
book, namely, author, bookseller, and publisher,
should be considered by all.

(iv). The fourth method is that of royalty.
This is the simplest and most convenient form of
agreement, the accounts are clear and easily
understood, and to check them involves but little
labour.

THE SYSTEMS OF DEFERRED KOYALTY,

(i). After cost of production has been covered.

(ii). After the sale of a certain number of
copies, should be strenuously avoided.

The first of these methods is absolutely inad-
missible as involving all the objections of the
profit-sharing arrangement, and the second is
only admissible if the royalty is proportionately
increased after the sale of the stated number, and
if the author is sure that the publishers stipulate
to print a larger number than the number stated
on which no royalty is paid.

Now that some stand has been made to sell
books at a net figure, authors should be careful
that their royalty is paid on the published price,
and that the book is not going to be sold net :
the equivalent of 15 per cent, on the published

Copyright and Literary Property. 291

price of an ordinary six shilling book is 18 per
cent, on a net book of 5s.

Every author who cannot command the highest
scale, should, however small the royalty offered
him, stipulate for an increase with increased
sales. The system of a royalty increasing with
the sales is equitable to both parties, and the
author thereby avoids being dependent on the
" generosity " of the publisher if the sales are
large. There are no doubt some royalties which
cannot be increased, or in other words some
authors, on account of their popularity, can de-
mand the highest royalty from the beginning.
An example of an increasing royalty would be,
say, 10 per cent, of the published price on the
sale of the first 500 copies, 15 per cent, up to
2,000, 20 per cent, after the sale of 2,000, etc.

This form of payment is very convenient for
educational works. It may be doubtful whether
an educational book will be taken up by the
educational centres. Should the work however
meet with the approval of teachers it will sell in
its thousands, and the returns will be great. A
successful educational work, for instance, has a
far greater circulation than any popular novel.

As agreements have been from time to time
offered where the royalty decreases with the in-
creased circulation, it is only necessary after the
former statement to mention that such an ar-
rangement is worse than absurd.

If the book is a prize in the book lottery, the

292 The Pen and the Book.

author with a rising royalty will reap a propor-
tionate return, and no publisher who is desirous
of dealing fairly with authors will object, when
the book is selling in its thousands, to paying the
author accordingly, but it must be under agree-
ment. It is impossible to give more than a most
cursory statement with regard to agreements for
sale of bookrights, but those whom the subject
really interests must be referred to the books on
,the subject, "The Methods of Publishing,"
"Addenda to the Methods of Publishing," the
" Cost of Production," published by the Society
of Authors. Examples with figures are given
in another part of this work (p. 154, et seq.}.

The next branch of literary property to be
considered is SERIAL RIGHTS. As has been
pointed out, owing to the large increase of the
reading public, the result of education, the pro-
duction of literary property has enormously in-
creased.

.The issues of periodicals, magazines, daily and
weekly papers have kept pace, and publication in
this periodical form has added considerably to an
author's profits. As the circulation thus obtained
does not interfere with the book circulation the
author gains a wider public, and in consequence
a larger commercial value for his work.

Serial rights may be divided as follows : —

These are the common forms : —

1. Rights in some important London maga-
zine or paper.

Copyright and Literary Property. 293

2. Rights in some important American maga-
zine or paper.

3. Secondary rights in England.

4. Secondary rights in America.

5. Rights in the Colonies and Dependencies
of Great Britain.

In selling any of these rights the awtfior should
be very careful of what he is selling, and of the
date of publication.

If the author is careless, he may find that he
has sold all serial rights, that his story is being
syndicated in the provinces and in America, and
is bringing in moneys that he could have put into
his own pocket, or that his work is being con-
stantly reproduced in serial versions in the same
paper.

Another result of this carelessness may be that
he finds his work in serial form advertised at
absurdly cheap prices, which may tend to depre-
ciate the value of any fresh work from his pen.

He may find again, that he has brought himself
within the toils of the Copyright Act. The
eighteenth section referring to magazines, etc.,
runs as follows : —

("xviii). And be it enacted, that when any
publisher or other person shall, before or at the
time of the passing of this Act, have projected,
conducted, and carried on, or shall hereafter,
project, conduct and carry on, or be the proprietor
of any encyclopaedia, review, magazine, peri-
odical work, or work published in a series of

294 The Pen and the Book.

books or parts, or any book whatsoever, and shall
have employed, or shall employ, any persons to
compose the same, or any volume, parts, essays,
articles, or portions thereof for publication in or
as part of the same, and such work, volumes,
parts, essays, articles, or portions shall have been
or shall hereafter be composed under such em-
ployment, on the terms that the copyright therein
shall belong to such proprietor, projector, pub-
lisher, or conductor, and paid for by such pro-
prietor, projector, publisher, or conductor, the
copyright in every such encyclopaedia, review,
magazine, periodical work, and work published in
a series of books or parts, and in every volume,
part, essay, article and portion so composed and
paid for, shall be the property of such proprietor,
projector, publisher, or other conductor, who shall
enjoy the same rights as if he were the actual
author thereof, and shall have such term of copy-
right therein as is given to the authors of books
by this Act ; except only that in the case of
essays, articles, or portions forming part of and
first published in reviews, magazines, or other
periodical works of a like nature, after the term
of twenty-eight years from the first publication
thereof respectively, the right of publishing the
same in a separate form shall revert to the author
for the remainder of the term given by this Act :
Provided always, that during the term of twenty-
eight years the said proprietor, publisher, or con-
ductor shall not publish any such essay, article, or

Copyright and Literary Property. 295

portion separately or singly, without the consent,
previously obtained, of the author thereof, or his
assigns : Provided also that nothing herein con-
tained shall alter or affect the right of any person
who shall have been, or who shall be so employed
as aforesaid, to publish any such his composition
in a separate form, who by any contract, express
or implied, may have reserved, or may hereafter
reserve to himself such right ; but every author
reserving, retaining, or having such right shall be
entitled to the copyright in such composition
when published in a separate form, according to
this Act, without prejudice to the right of such
proprietor, projector, publisher or conductor, as
aforesaid."

It will be seen from this that when the pro-
prietor employs and pays (a most important
feature) a writer on the terms that the copyright
in the work done shall belong to such proprietor,
then the proprietor can for twenty-eight years
republish the work, but only with the consent of
the author ; but that the author may on the
other hand expressly or impliedly retain his
copyright. The question of what would happen
if nothing was said about copyright is left open.
Does the author impliedly reserve it ?

One case decided in the courts seems to point
to this view, but the question is still, by good
authorities, considered doubtful.

The author should always endeavour to have
a special contract, and should, under all circum-

296 The Pen and the Book.

stances, try to avoid coming under the ban of
the 18th section.

If the author can sell both the American and
English serial rights, he must arrange for simul-
taneous publication so as not to lose the American
copyright.

There are certain periodicals that publish long
stories in single numbers.

This is often the case with annuals.

The author, when selling to such periodicals,
should keep this point before him, as it is pos-
sible that such circulation may damage the book
rights, and if this is likely, he should secure an
enhanced price.

The author should never sign a receipt for
moneys in payment for serial use which is so
expressed as to convey the copyright to the
proprietor.

If an author does not understand what he is
signing, he had better take the advice of someone
who does.

He should be careful of the date of publication,
for the very simple reason that the tale will be
published in book form, and it cannot appear in
this form until it has run at any rate for some
months as a serial.

It it important for an author to arrange that
the publication of one story does not conflict
with the publication of another.

There is the further question that many
periodicals do not pay until publication takes

Copyright and Literary Property. 297

place. This, of course, could not be delayed in-
definitely, but the expense and difficulty of
bringing the machinery of the law to work
ought, if possible, to be avoided. Let the con-
tract be quite clear by taking a little care in the
beginning.

Authors should be careful also that their MS.
is sent typewritten. If typewriting is too expen-
sive, then the writing should be very distinct.

There is no doubt, however, that a typewritten
MS. increases an author's chance of being read,
and he should not neglect this chance.

The author should always retain a copy in
case of accidents, and should be very careful of
the position and repute of the periodical he
intends to deal with. An author, when writing
to an editor, should clearly state what he is offer-
ing for sale. Thus :

"Dear Sir, — I beg to offer you the enclosed
for serial publication in number of

or any number that may be subsequently agreed
upon."

The author should also mention the price that
he is willing to take, that is if he is particular on
this point.

If the tale is accepted without any further
special stipulations, then it is accepted on the
terms of the letter.

It is important, therefore, to keep copies of
letters.

Before closing these remarks on the manage-

298 The Pen and the Book.

ment of literary property at the present day,
under the present laws, some mention must be
made of the literary agent.

In the last few years, as has been shown owing
to the influence of education, the reading public
has increased proportionately, and an enormous
outcrop of magazines have been started to meet
the reading demand.

In addition, as already pointed out, the Berne
Convention and the American Copyright Act
increased the value of the author's property, and
confirmed him in possession of his own if to a
limited extent only, at any rate, to an extent
that he had never enjoyed before, in consequence
he had a large estate to farm, and it needed to
be fairmed carefully.

An author is as a rule endowed with an artis-
tic temperament ; he knows little of farming an
estate, and is wholly unbusinesslike in making
commercial bargains. The outcome of this posi-
tion was the literary agent. An author who
makes his living by writing had to place serial
rights in England — in London and the provinces
— in America — arranging for simultaneous pub-
lication— in the Colonies. He had in addition
to arrange for book publication in England and
America, Colonial and Continental Bookrights
and Translation rights. Each of these rights
possessed a commercial and market value.

The literary agent, who knew the market
prices, who was in touch with editors of papers

Copyright and Literary Property. 299

and publishers, saw his chance and stepped in to
help the bewildered author, who either was not
reaping the benefit of the sale of all his rights,
or was, owing to ignorance, constantly undersell-
ing his real value.

The American Copyright Law added es-
pecially to the author's difficulties.

The worry and trouble of correspondence with
regard to simultaneous publication was much
more easily arranged by a middleman, so that the
author, although he might pay perhaps 10 per
cent, to the agent, increased his own income con-
siderably beyond that figure, and at the same
time was relieved from the danger of business
tricks and wiles.

But it is only to the author with an established
position that the agent is essential. He may
circulate the MSS. of minor authors and take
the business responsibility off their shoulders,
but he also takes the 10 per cent.

To these he may be useful, but if so at a price.

In these cases the agent cannot do more than
the author for himself.

But one word of warning must be given.
Under no circumstances should an author assign
the power of placing these outside rights, serial
rights in England, America, translation rights,
dramatic rights and other secondary rights, to the
publisher, for this reason, that such work does
not lie within the scope of the publisher's busi-
ness ; that his office is not to place literary work

300 The Pen and the Book.

in other hands, but to produce in book form for
the author ; that these rights left with the pub-
lisher are not likely to receive anything like the
same attention as if left with the agent ; that the
publisher is the only party that gains by the
control, and that the author loses.

It should be added that the publisher generally
asks 30 to 50 per cent, as a reward for this
agency woyfe, whereas that of the agents is from
10 to 15. When this fact is made known it is
no wonder that the publisher tries to secure
everything, and cries out against the literary
agent.

The last portion of this chapter will be de-
voted to showing what recent attempts have
been made towards bettering the position of
authors since 5 and 6 Vic. c. 45 was passed. A
Royal Commission on Copyright sat in 1875, but
its authority was revoked owing to the death of
its chairman, and a Commission sat in 1876,
composed of many eminent lawyers and others.

The Commissioners delivered their Report in
1878.

The Commission was appointed owing to the
faet that a law had been passed in Canada, 1875,
which, it was thought, conflicted with the
Imperial Act of 1842.

The difficulties that seemed to arise under the
Canadian Act were finally settled judicially in
the case of Smiles v. Belford, which case decided
that the Canadians had no power to pirate the

Copyright and Literary Property. 301

works of English authors who had not obtained
copyright as required by the Canadian law.

There was another injustice that the Colonials
at this period objected to, namely, that to obtain
copyright in the British Dominions, a book must
be published in England.

This difficulty was met in the International
and Colonial Act of 1886, by which publication
in any part of Her Majesty's Domiirioes secures
for the author universal British Copyright.

There have been other minor acts dealing
with the sale of books in the Colonies, in order
to enable the inhabitants to get good literature
cheap.

These acts bear but slightly on the commer-
cial value of an author's work, and have not been
touched upon.

The suggestions in the Report of the Commis-
sioners were many and exhaustive, and the
document is well worthy of perusal by those
interested in the future of Copyright.

There are seven subjects dealt with : —

1. Books. 2. Musical compositions. 3. Dra-
matic pieces. 4. Lectures. 5. Engravings, and
other works of the same kind. 6. Paintings,
Drawing, and Photography. 7. Sculptures.

With regard to Books, the Commissioners
went very carefully into the case of duration of
the term of copyright, and, after putting forward
all the arguments for and against, decided to
report in favour of Life and 30 years, giving

302 The Pen and the Book.

Her Majesty, by Order in Council, power to vary
the term to meet any international arrangement.

With regard to Clause 18 of the Act of 1845,
which relates to Magazine copyright, they sug-
gested that the term of 28 years should be
altered to three years, and that this provision
should be retrospective.

They recommended that publication in any
part of the British Dominions should secure
copyright* throughout the Dominions, and that
a British author who publishes a work outside the
British Dominions should not be prevented
thereby from obtaining copyright within them
by a subsequent publication therein.

That the benefit of the copyright laws should
extend to all, British subjects and aliens also.

With regard to abridgments, that no abridg-
ment of copyright works should be allowed dur-
ing the term of copyright without the consent of
the owner of the copyright.

One very important point was dealt with touch-
ing dramatic and musical compositions. After
deciding that the terms of copyright should be
the same as that of books, the Commissioners
further proposed in order to avoid the union
between the literary and performing rights that
the printed publication of such works should give
dramatic or performing rights, and that public
performance should give literary copyright.

They considered that the right of dramatising
*N.B. — This recommendation has been carried out, see above.

Copyright and Literary Property. 303

a novel should be reserved to the author, and that
copyright in lectures should exist for the life of
the author and thirty years.

With regard to registration it was proposed to
make it compulsory, and the British Museum
authorities were considered the fittest persons to
have charge of this duty.

Other recommendations followed as to penalties
for future piracies and restrictive measures, and
lastly a very exhaustive treatise dealt with
Colonial and International legislation.

It has been thought necessary to set out the
main points of the Commission in some detail as
all the subsequent attempts at legislation have
been based on it.

The last attempt was made in 1879, when the
Duke of Rutland, one of the Commissioners (then
Lord John Manners) brought in a measure on
behalf of the Conservative Government. This
bill, owing to the dissolution of Parliament in
1880, was not proceeded with. It was a bill
framed to carry out the suggestions of the Com-
mission from which it differed only in one or two
points.

In 1882 and 1888 two bills, the Musical Com-
position Acts were introduced and became law.

In 1886, as stated previously, the Berne Con-
vention was signed. This seemed to give a
stimulus to copyright, as the same year the
Society of Authors drafted a bill, which how-
ever was not brought before Parliament. After

304 The Pen and the Book.

the passing of the American Copyright Act in
1890, the society again showed their activity in
the cause of copyright, and Lord Monkswell in
1891 brought forward a bill promoted by them
for consolidating and amending the law.

This bill dealt with all classes of copyright
property, literary and otherwise, and was very
carefully considered by all parties interested. It
followed in the main the report of the Commis-
sion, only differing from this report as far as
literary property is concerned in minor points.
This bill was read a second time in the House
of Lords, subject to the singular condition im-
posed by Lord Halsbury, as representing the
Government, that it should not be further pro-
ceeded with.

Copyright legislation remained stationary until
the beginning of the year 1896, when the Society
of Authors decided to appoint a sub-committee
to reconsider in full the question of consolidating
and amending the Copyright Acts.

The question of applying for a full consolidat-
ing and amending bill was very seriously dis-
cussed, and finally, for various reasons, set aside.

This course must be acknowledged as a
thoroughly sound one, as a bill embodying the
question of consolidating Acts of Parliament is
never likely to be brought forward, except by the
Government itself. It is practically useless for
private individuals, however influential, or how-
ever influential the bodies they represent, to deal

Copyright and Literary Property. 305

with a question so large and so difficult as the
consolidation of the Copyright Acts. It is no
longer a question of obtaining uniformity for
different kinds of literary and artistic property,
and for the methods of dealing with them in
Great Britain and Ireland.

There is the wide question further involved of
the British Colonies, which question a little time
back reached a very acute stage with regard to
the reproduction of copyright books in Canada,
and there is the still wider question of Interna-
tional Copyright under the Berne Convention.
To have a full knowledge on these points, it is
absolutely necessary to be behind the scenes, and
to know the negotiations of the Colonial and
Foreign Office that have been, or may be, pend-
ing. The society, therefore, wisely settled to
bring forward a small amending bill which
might deal with the points which were in most
pressing need of amendment, but the society
naturally only confined itself to literary and
dramatic property, and, with that object in
view, thought first of merely dealing with the
eighteenth section of the existing Act of 1842,
which has been, since the act was passed, so
great a stumbling block. This section, quoted in
full on page 293, refers to literary property con-
tributed to magazines, periodicals and encyclo-
paedias. It is extremely badly drawn, and almost
impossible to interpret. Council was instructed
on behalf of the society to deal with the matter.

306 The Pen and the Book.

Instructions had no sooner been delivered than a
letter appeared in the Times from Mr. Tree with
regard to the dramatic rights of novelists in their
own works, apropos of the pirated versions of
"Trilby" that were appearing in the country.
The society at once joined forces with Mr. Tree
and determined to widen the scope of their pro-
ceedings. A meeting of other bodies interested
in literary copyright was called. Mr. Longman
represented the Publishers' Association, Mr.
Daldy the Copyright Association. A plan was
submitted to those present for the drafting of a
Bill amending the law on the following important
points : —

1. The eighteenth Section (Magazine Copy-
right).

2. The Dramatisation of novels.

3. Copyright in lectures.

4. The term of copyright.

5. Abridgment of books.

6. The question of copyright in titles.

It was decided, after mature deliberation, to
drop the following points :—

1. The term of copyright.

2. The questions of copyright in titles.

The former, it was thought, would be better
left for the Consolidating Bill, and the latter was
considered too difficult a question to handle at
the present time and in the present bill. It was
not, however, till July, 1897, that the bill was in
a fit state to be placed before the House of Lords.

Copyright and Literary Property. 307

Considerable delay had occurred, as it appeared
that the representatives of the Publishers' and
Copyright Associations, although acting for these
bodies, could not bind them, and had, from time
to time, to refer to their principals. This method
of procedure would naturally tend to complicate
the position. If those engaged in the work had
been more numerous, the negotiations might have
been prolonged indefinitely, like a suit in Chan-
cery. The main points of the bill had met with
the assent of all parties. The sub-committee of
the society then "took the bull by the horns,"
placed the bill in Lord Monkswell's hands, and
left the details to be fought out in committee.
In its final shape the bill dealt with the following
points : —

1. Copyright in periodical works.

2. Articles in encyclopaedias.

3. Lectures.

4. Abridgments.

5. A short clause touching newspapers, being
merely declaratory of the present law.

6. Dramatisation.

7. Summary remedy for infringement of
dramatic copyright.

8. Date of publication.

There was some objection raised to the bill, as
then settled, by one or two persons of importance
who had not been consulted in its initial stages.
Their objections were mainly based on the method
of drafting the bill, and on the fact that the bill

308 The Pen and the Book.

dealt in one or two points with newspapers.
Neither of these objections, however, can now be
considered to hold water, as the bill has been re-
drafted on behalf of the House of Lords by Lord
Thring, whose parliamentary draftsmanship will
no doubt satisfy the objection, and the clauses
referring to newspapers have been struck out, as,
after mature consideration, it was felt that these
ought to be dealt with in a Consolidating bill,
but this is rather anticipating. The bill was
read a first time in the House of Lords, and on
July 1st a very strong committee of Peers, of
whom Lord Monkswell acted as chairman, sat
upon the Bill. The committee were as follows :
Lord Monkswell (chairman), Lords Farrer,
Hatherton, Hobhouse, Knutsford, Pirbright,
Tennyson, Thring, and Welby.

Evidence was summoned before the committee
touching the amendments proposed, and the Bill
was finally re-drafted, and passed the third read-
ing on July 23rd, 1897. In its final state it dealt
with : —

1. Translations.

2. Magazine copyright.

3. Copyright in lectures.

4. Abridgments.

5. Dramatisation of novels.

6. Summary remedy for infringement of
dramatic copyright, 1897.

In the autumn of 1897 it was proposed by the
Secretary of the Copyright Association to gather

Copyright and Literary Property. 309

together all those bodies interested in copyright
to draft a Consolidating bill, and the members
of a joint committee were summoned to meet at
Mr. Murray's offices. The bill which was sub-
mitted for their perusal was a bill which had
been drafted five years ago by the Secretary of
the association, and had been added to from time
to time when any fresh points occurred.

Its draftsmanship was in many points doubtful,
although it was rumoured that this most impor-
tant question had received the consideration of
two members of the Bar, Q.C's., whose names
could not be mentioned. This much was, how-
ever, clear, the Bill contained clauses materially
differing from those clauses already approved by
the Copyright Association in the Society of
Authors' Amending Bill, and others that were
not in accord with the letter and spirit of the
Copyright Commission. Apart from this, how-
ever, such an undertaking at that time was inop-
portune, as it conflicted with the passing of the
Amending Bill, and was prejudicial to copyright
interests, as amendment ought to precede conso-
lidation. If, therefore, the bill of the society
should be successfully passed, it would then be
high time to consider the question of consolida-
tion, if consolidation from private sources can
possibly be of any material advantage. Under
any circumstances, if the question of consolidation
was going to be undertaken by private individuals,
it would only be undertaken satisfactorily on one

310 The Pen and the Book.

basis ; that is, by drawing together all the differ-
ent producers of copyright property, as distinct
from the holders of copyright — the tradesmen of
literary, artistic, and musical wares are not likely
to propose a law for the benefit of producers.
Their interests may be in some respects similar,
but they must in many points be dissimilar, — that
the views of such producers of copyright property
should be taken either through the societies which
represent the different branches, or through re-
presentative men from each branch ; that a cer-
tain sum should be subscribed by all concerned,
and that the best parliamentary draftsmen secur-
able should receive instructions to draft a Bill
containing all the main points which had been
agreed upon between the joint committee of
producers ; that another counsel eminent for his
knowledge of copyright law should also be
instructed to join in consultation with the com-
mittee and counsel previously appointed ; that
the bill thus drafted should be put before a joint
committee of producers and holders, summoned
for the purpose, and that at all meetings of such
committee counsel should be present to keep the
legal aspect of the bill constantly before the
committee. This course is absolutely necessary,
for the artistic temperament is not always capable
of grasping legal niceties. It must certainly be
considered that the producers of copyright pro-
perty should form a large majority of this
committee.

Copyright and Literary Property. 311

It does not seem at all desirable, even under
the most favourable circumstances, that such a
Copyright Bill should be put forward, nor does
it seem that, if put forward, it would be accepted,
although possibly it might be of benefit to any
future Government that thought of taking the
matter up seriously. Where such serious ques-
tions as the position of Great Britain and Ireland
with its colonies, and with other countries in the
universe, have to be discussed, it is not only fit-
ting, but absolutely necessary, that the party re-
presenting public opinion at the time should take
up a subject so vast and so important. It cannot
possibly be of any avail that a few gentlemen,
honourably known as publishers, or highly-gifted
as authors, should solemnly sit down to discuss a
Consolidating Bill without any recognised legal
adviser or parliamentary draftsman, and without
any previous and laboured inquiry into the Copy-
right laws. The bill in its final form was not,
however, so unsatisfactory as in its initial stages
might have been deduced.

It followed the suggestions of the Copyright
Commissioners on some points.

It took most of the best ideas from the two
bills of the Society of Authors brought forward
in 1891 and 1897 by Lord Monkswell, and finally
put forward again those clauses and definitions
dealing with copyright in newspapers that had
been struck out of the bill of 1897.

The bill of the Society of Authors, 1897,

312 The Pen and the Book.

brought forward by Lord Monkswell, and the
Consolidating Bill, brought forward by Lord
Herschell, were both before the House of Lords
in the opening session of 1898, and were both
referred to a select committee.

It is feared, however, that the introduction of
the large measure has effectively stopped copy-
right legislation for the present, as the question
of the consolidation of copyright is an Imperial
question, as stated previously, and the Govern-
ment are anxious to avoid it.

It is impossible to say, therefore, what the
immediate future will bring about, but if ever the
happy time should arrive when Imperial Federa-
tion will be placed on a permanent and stable
basis, then Copyright Law Reform will meet
with the attention that it merits.

At that time, no doubt, the Americans will
also have come to consider themselves as on an
equality with the citizens of other civilised
powers, and will have done away with the trade
considerations of their present bill.

Finally it is hoped that there will be one uni-
form International Copyright Law for all civilised
states, and all those interested in this vast and
increasing literary property should labour with
this object in view.

CHAPTER VI.

SUMMARY.

IN the following Summary the information and
warnings given above at length are recapitulated
briefly for purposes of convenience and reference.

1. PREPARATORY.

(i). Write only on one side of the paper.

(ii). In order to know the length of your MS.,
use a uniform size of paper so as to have very
nearly the same number of words on every page.
Therefore the number of words on a page multi-
plied by the number of pages gives the length of
the MS.

(iii). If you can afford it, get your MS.
typewritten. This gives you a first proof, which
you can revise and alter as much as you please
without additional cost. If you cannot afford it,
write legibly with spaces or new pages for the
divisions and chapters.

2. WITH THE EDITOR.

(i). In offering your MS., as an unknown

314 The Pen and the Book.

writer, jour main object is to make an appear-
ance : let your only stipulation be that your name
is to appear. Always insist, if you can, upon the
publication of your name. The only way to arrive
at literary success is to get your name known in
connection with your work.

(ii). Do not continue to send all your work to
the same editor, even though he may offer to
take it. Try to get known to as many editors as
possible. Every magazine means a different set
of readers.

(iii). When, if ever, you are so fortunate as
to become acceptable to the public, you can begin
to offer your MSS. with conditions as to time
and terms.

(iv). Sell to the editor your first serial right
in this country only. Reserve all other rights.

(v). If the cheque arrives with a receipt con-
veying the copyright to the proprietor of the
magazine, strike out the clause before you sign it.

(vi). Avoid magazines of small circulation.
Aim at appearing in those which are most widely
circulated.

(vii). While you are not strong enough to
insist on terms, yield, but take a note of terms
that are forced upon you, and, when you are
strong enough, try another magazine.

(viii). In your choice of a magazine, first
study the class of articles which appear in it,
and send your own papers only to the magazine
which seems most likely to suit your subject.

Summary. 315

(ix). If you are offering work to a serious
paper, such as one of the quarterlies, or a high-
class monthly, write to the editor first, offering to
send it for approval.

(x). If you are offering a story, send it with
a short scenario of the plot.

3. WITH THE PUBLISHER.

(i). Remember that a publisher is a man of
business, who makes money by selling books.
He is, therefore, moved by no enthusiasms for
literature, but simply by the consideration of
what will pay.

(ii). Meet him as one business man should
meet another, with the wholesome suspicion, based
on experience, that he will " best " you if he can.

(iii). Learn from the preceding pages what
sized book your MS. would make, what it would
cost to print, bind, and advertise : observe how
the publisher deals with the bookseller : and what,
therefore, will be the profit or the loss on the
book by working out imaginary sales.

(iv). Read carefully the " Draft Agree-
ments " issued by the Committee of the Pub-
lishers' Association, in order to find out the
various ways by which your publisher will pro-
bably endeavour to " grab " the whole of the
profits. This committee has artlessly disclosed
almost all the tricks practised by the trade — not
quite.

Let us, however, draw up a few of the rules to

316 The Pen and the Book.

be observed in an agreement. There are three
methods of dealing with literary property : —

I. That of selling it outright.

This is in many respects the most satisfactory,
if a proper price can be obtained. But the trans-
action should be managed by a competent agent.

II. A profit-sharing agreement.

In this case the following rules should be
attended to : —

(i). Not to sign any agreement in which the
cost of production forms a part.

(ii). Not to give the publisher the power of
putting the profits into his own pocket by charg-
ing for advertisements in his own organs ; or by
charging exchange advertisements.

(iii). Not to allow a special charge for " office
expenses," unless the same allowance is made to
the author.

(iv). Not to give up American, Colonial, or
Continental rights.

(v). Not to give up dramatic, serial, or trans-
lation rights.

(vi). Not to bind yourself for future work to
any publisher. This is most important. As well
bind yourself for the future to any one solicitor
or doctor.

( vii). To get the agreement stamped in case of
any subsequent dispute.

Summary. 317

III. The royalty system.

In this system, which has opened the door to a
most amazing amount of overreaching, it is,
above all things, necessary to know what the
proposed royalty means to both sides. It is now
possible for an author to ascertain approximately
and very nearly the truth. From time to time
the very important figures connected with royal-
ties are published in The Author. Readers can
also work out the figures for themselves (see
p. 210). Let no one, not even the youngest
writer, sign a royalty agreement without finding
out what it gives the publisher as well as himself.

The four points which the Society has always
demanded from the outset are : —

(i). That both sides shall know what an
agreement means.

(ii). The inspection of those accounts which
belong to the author. We are advised that this
is a right, in the nature of a common law right,
which cannot be denied or withheld.

(iii). That there shall be no secret profits.

(iv). That nothing shall be charged which has
not been actually paid — for instance, that there
shall be no charge for advertisements in the pub-
lisher's own organs, and none for exchanged
advertisements ; and that all discounts shall be
duly entered for the benefit of author as well as
publisher.

If these points are carefully looked after, the

318 The Pen and the Book.

author may rest pretty well assured that he is in
right hands. At the same time, he will do well
to send his agreement to the Secretary of the
Society of Authors before he signs it.

4. WITH THE PRINTER.

(i). In a profit-sharing agreement you have a
right to a voice in the arrangements with printer,
paper-maker, and binder.

(ii). The chief point for you personally to
observe with the printer is to furnish him with a
clearly written or typewritten MS.

(iii). If typewritten you should make all cor-
rections before the MS. goes to the printer.

( iv). You will probably find in your publisher's
agreement a clause allowing corrections " up to
5/- or 10/- " or anything else, per sheet, care
being taken not to explain the connection between
money, and sheets, and corrections.

The meaning is this. Corrections are charged
by the work of the compositor per hour. If
there is a change in the line, or what is called
" running over," there may be a very grave
addition to the cost.

5. WITH THE TYPEWRITER.

It seems generally understood that typewriting
should cost I/- to 1/3 per thousand words, in
duplicate.

6. COPYRIGHT.
(i). In a book.

Summary. 319

Copyright at present lasts for forty-two years
from first publication, or for the life of the author
and seven years after.

(ii). In a magazine article.

Copyright in a magazine article is a difficult
subject to deal with. Readers are referred to
p. 305, where Mr. Thring treats of it at length.

7. INTERNATIONAL COPYRIGHT.

On this point, the important point to be re-
membered, is that the author must not, on any
account, allow the publisher either to act as his
agent in securing rights under this head, or to
take any share in the profits arising from those
rights.

Nor must he allow his publisher to share
in rights of translation, Continental rights, or
dramatic rights.

8. REGISTRATION or TITLES.

There is no real copyright in titles. An author,
however, can bring an action for damage done to
his book by the sale of another with the same
title. If he can prove damage, he will win his
case.

9. THE LITERARY AGENT.

The rise and rapid development of the literary
agent have been already considered. I do not
advise a beginner to go to an agent in the attempt
to place magazine articles. In the case of a

320 The Pen and the Book.

book it is different. An agent may lend impor-
tant assistance, even to a beginner, in placing his
book. But the greatest care must be observed
in the employment of an agent. His is a kind of
work which demands the utmost integrity : he
must be wholly on the side of the author, his
client. I have heard, for instance, rumours of
an agent taking money from a publisher for bring-
ing him work. Such a practice, if it were found
out, would instantly blast the character of an
agent.

APPENDIX.
SOCIETY OF AUTHORS, 1898.

PRESIDENT.

GEORGE MEREDITH.

Sir Edwin Arnold, K.C.T.E., C.S.I.

J. M. Barrie.

A. W. a Beckett.

Robert Bateman.

F. K. Beddard, F.R.S.

Sir Henry Bergne, K.C.M.G.

Sir Walter Besant.

Augustine Birrell, M.P.

Rev. Prof. Bouney, F.R.S.

Right Hon. James Bryce, M.P.

Right Hon. Lord Burghclere, P.C.

Hall Caine.

Egerton Castle, F.S.A.

P. W. Clayden.

Edward Clodd.

W. Morris Colles.

Hon. John Collier.

Sir W. Martin Conway.

F. Marion Crawford.

The Right Hon. Lord Curzon.

Austin Dobson.

A. Conan Doyle, M.D.

A. W. Dubourg.

Prof. Michael Foster, F.R.S.

D. W. Freshfleld.

Richard Garnett, C.B., LL.D.

P.dmund Gosse.

H. Rider Haggard.

Thomas Hardv.

COUNCIL.

Jerome K. Jerome.

J. Scott Keltic, LL.D.

Rudyard Kipling.

Prof. E. Ray Laukester. F.R.S

W. E. H. Lecky, P.C.

J. M. Lely.

Rev. W. J. Loftie, F.S.A.

Sir A. C. Mackenzie, Mus. Doc

Prof. J. M. D. Meiklejohn.

Herman C. Merivale.

Rev. C. H. Middieton-Wake.

Sir Lewis Morris.

Henry Norman.

Miss E. A. Ormerod.

J. C. Parkinson.

The Right Hon. Lord Pirbright,

P.C., F.R.S.

Sir Frederick 1'ollock, Bart., LL.D.
Waltpr Herries Pollock.
W. Baptiste Scoones.
Miss Flora L. Shaw.
G. P.. Sims.
S. Squire Sprigge.
J. J. Stevenson.
I'rancis Storr.
William Moy Thomas.
H. D. Trailli D.C.L.
Mrs. Humphry Ward.
Miss Charlotte M. Yonge.

Anthony Hope Hawkins.

•Kan. Counsel : E. M. Underdown, Q.C.

COMMITTEE OF MANAGEMENT.

ffiliattman : Sir W. Martin Conway.

A. W. a Beckett.
Sir Walter Besant.
Egertnn Castle, F.S.A.
W. Morris Colles.
D. W. Freshfleld.
H. Rider Haggard.

Anthony Hope Hawkins.

J. Scott Keltie, LL.D.

J. M. Lely.

Sir A. C. Mackenzie, Mus. Doc.

Henry Norman.

Francis Storr.

ART.

Hon. John Collier (chairman).
Sir W. Martin Conway.
M. H. Spielmann.

SUB-COMMITTEES.

MUSIC.
C. Villiers Stanford, Mus. Doc.

(chairman).
Jacques Blumenthal.
DRAMA.
Henry Arthur Jones (chairman). | A. W. a Beckett. I Edward Rose.

f Field, Roscoe & Co., Lincoln's Inn Fields.
G. Herbert Thring, B.A., 4, Portugal Street.

j: G. Herbert Thring, B,A.
OFFICES.

4, PORTUGAL STREET, LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS, W.C

THE

SOCIETY OF AUTHORS

(INCORPORATED).

PRESIDENT:

GEORGE MEREDITH.

WHEN this Society was first established, its founders
were actuated by two leading principles. First, that
the relations between author and publisher require to
be placed once for all upon a recognised basis of
justice. Second, that questions of copyright — domes-
tic and international — require to be kept steadily in
the public mind, that authors may receive by legisla-
tion the rewards to which they are entitled.

I.

No one has ever denied that the relations of author
to publisher are at the present moment in the most
unsatisfactory condition possible. There are no fixed
principles ; there has never been any attempt to
decide on what principles books should be published ;
there are twenty different methods of publication,
not one of which, has ever been advanced or defended
on the grounds of justice and fairness to author and
publisher alike. Not only are there no fixed princi-
ples, but the trade of publishing is infested and
brought into disrepute by persons who prey upon the
ignorance and inexperience of authors, plundering
them in their agreements and cheating them in their
returns.

Appendix. 323

The better regulation of the trade by the adoption
of principles recognised as just and equitable would be
a step in the highest degree serviceable to litei'ature.
It would give independence to authors who now,
often in total ignorance of fair prices, have to take
humbly what they can get, with no other allies than
their own reputation and the competition of the
trade; it would cause the weeding out of houses
whose existence is a disgrace to the trade ; it would
stem the output of books \vhich ought not to be
published, and would not appear but for the vanity
of their writers and the greed of the publishers who
live by producing such works.

In order to show the absolute necessity for re-
form, the Society began from the outset to collect
facts, and to show the exact position with regard to
the production of books. After some years of patient
investigation and accumulation the Society has been
enabled to prove the following, among other points.

(1.) Owing to the growth of a system by which
publishers' accounts alone, among all other business
returns, have been received by authors without audit
or examination, the door has been open to frauds of
every description. In other words, the temptation to
steal without the danger of detection has been held
out before a large body of men. It has been proved
up to the hilt by facts that in a great number of
cases the temptation has proved to be too strong to be
resisted.

(2.) The robbery of authors — in these cases —
takes the following forms : —

a. The cost of composition, machining, paper and

binding is set down in excess, sometimes
double, of the actual sum paid.

b. The charge for corrections is set down at any-

thing the publisher pleases.

c. Charges are made for " office," " sundries,"

" travellers," " readers," and all kinds of
things not in the agreement.

324 Appendix.

d. Excessive charge for advertisement. Here

many forms of trick are perpetrated. First,
no details are rendered, so that anything
may be set down. If details are demanded,
the announcement of the book in the pub-
lisher's own lists and circulars, for which the
publisher pays nothing, is charged ; the ad-
vertising of the book in the publisher's
magazine, for which the publisher pays noth-
ing, is charged ; the advertising of the book
in other magazines by exchange, for which
the publisher pays nothing, is charged.
There are many other ways of misleading
the author, but these are the commonest.
In fact, there is nothing whatever to pre-
vent, what is often done, the sweeping of
the whole profits of a book into the pub-
lisher's own hands by charging for adver-
tisements in his own magazines, which cost
him nothing.

e. Fraudulent return of number of copies sold.

f. Fraudulent return of moneys received.
Where the publisher takes the cost on himself, and

a royalty is offered to the axithor on all copies sold, it
would seem that the author, not being liable for the
expense, is secure from most of these forms of trickery
— from all, in fact, save the last two. But as the
royalty is often withheld until the cost of production
and advertisement have been covered, the application
df our remarks to the royalty system is apparent.
Again, under the royalty system few authors know
what the royalty offered yields to the publisher and
what to the author, which is equivalent to saying that
but few authors truly comprehend the bargains pro-
posed to them.

It is not enough to state these things, most of
which were known or suspected before. The Society
has proved them by publishing a book which contains

Appendix. 325

an account of them, with the actual agreements sub-
mitted to authors, and their working, their meaning,
and their results. In another book it has given
illustrations, in different type, of what books of all
kinds do actually cost to print and publish. With
these two books in their hands, authors ought to be
able to protect themselves. If the figures are trouble-
some they may apply to the Secretary of the Society
for their explanation.

The Society, during the last few years, has been
able to save a great number of authors from pillage.
It has caused certain houses, who had grown shameless
with their impunity, to become more careful ; it has
awakened a wholesome spirit of distrust in those who
send MSS. to publishers ; it has caused a wider re-
cognition of the reality of literary property ; and it is
still preparing the way for a thorough reform of the
whole conduct and management of literary property.

It is also no small matter that the Society has
saved many who, having none of the qualities re-
quired to insure literary success, would have been
dragged in, by lying assurances, to pay large sums of
money for what they were informed were the costs of
production. In other words, the Society has done
much to restrict the publication of worthless books.

The publisher is not the only person whom the
Society has to combat in maintaining the property of
Authors.

The question of magazine rights and of the respon-
sibilities of editors of weekly and monthly papers is
constantly in dispute, especially as Section XVIII. of
the Copyright Act referring to magazines is badly
worded, difficult of interpretation, and involved. The
legal advice to be obtained from the Society can be
obtained nowhere else. No other persons have had
such constant practice and experience in these matters
as the secretary of the Society and its solicitors.
Legal advice is, as a rule, expensive, but the Society
includes this in the yearly subscription.

326 Appendix.

It is further necessary from time to time to obtain
moneys for contributions or the return of MSS. with-
held. This the secretary can very often do when the
author cannot.

The prestige and weight of the Society's name is of
considerable value on these occasions, and, should this
prove insufficient, there is still the weight of the law
as a last resource.

In bankruptcy cases the claim of the member is
simply placed in the hands of the Society's solicitors,
who take the necessary steps for proving the claim
and recovering the dividend, if any, under the bank-
ruptcy, without any charge to the member, who thus
receives his full dividend without payment of any law
expenses.

The Society has, further, created a branch of work
in which young writers can, for a small fee of one
guinea, obtain the examination of a MS. by a com-
petent man or woman of letters, and an opinion —
such an opinion as would be given by a "coach" —
on the nature and literary value of a work. The
Reading Department has now been used by hundreds
of young writers, with the result that bad and im-
mature work has been kept from publication, and the
writers have been directed into better methods.

This kind of criticism is very responsible work.
The Society's readers — as the work sent up is almost
entirely fiction — are mostly novelists who have proved
their competence to appreciate good work by the
work they have themselves put forth. The Society is
also in touch with critical readers on almost every
subject.

The methods in which the Society has acted, as
well as the abuses against which its action has been
taken, are well illustrated by the specimen cases
which have been appended to the yearly reports. It
is a question for the consideration of the committee
whether publicity should be given to the names of the

Appendix. 327

offenders. In many cases where the Society would
have readily exposed the transaction, the victim has
not been so willing.

The following is a list of the works put forth or
preparing by the Society :

1. " The Cost of Production." (Fourth edition

now preparing.) 2s. Qd. 1891.

2. " The Various Methods of Publishing, with a

Notice of the Frauds practised in connection
with them." (Third edition now prepar-
ing.) 3s. 1891.

3. "The History of La Societe des Gens de

Lettres" Is. 1889.

4. " Literature and the Pension List." 3*. 6d.

1889.

5. " Copyright Law Reform." 1*. 6<2. 1891.

6. "The Society of Authors." A record of its

action from its foundation. By Walter
Besant (Chairman of Committee, 1888-
1892.) Is.

7. "The Contract of Publication in Germany,

Austria, Hungary, and Switzerland. By
Ernst Lunge, J.U.D. 2*. Qd.

8. "The Growth and Development of the
Literary Profession." (Preparing.)

9. " International Copyright." (Preparing.)
10. " Equitable Publishing." (Preparing.)

It will be seen that several of these books have
attained to a wide circulation.

In May, 1890, the Author was issued, as the
official journal of the Society, under the editorship of
Sir Walter Besant, the then Chairman of the Com-
mittee. It is the only paper in the United Kingdom
having for its main object the definition and defence
of the author's rights ; in its pages there is published
every month information upon all kinds of questions
as they arise, concerning literary property and its
maintenance.

328 Appendix.

While in no way relaxing their efforts toward the
bringing about of a better state of things, the com-
mittee are anxious to do what they ran for individual
authors under existing conditions. With this view
the secretary (who is himself a solicitor) confiden-
tially, and with the assistance of the Society's solicitors
if he should think necessary, advises as to the safe-
guarding of literary property, examines agreements,
examines and advises upon accounts rendered, and
advises authors who wish to bring out works at their
own expense. By seeking such advice, a writer will
at least guard himself against falling into bad hands.

To sum up, the Society maintains :

1. That literary property, already vast, is rapidly
growing, and forms a considerable portion of the
national wealth.

2. That it has been hitherto practically undefended,
and that it needs to be protected.

3. That the present modes of dealing with this
great body of property are based on no principles of
right and justice, and leave the door open to every
kind of fraud.

4. That it is highly desirable to awaken a general
recognition of literary property, to create a spirit of
jealousy over its management, and to introduce the
same watchfulness into literary transactions as obtains
in all other business affairs.

With this view the Society recommends :

1. That the accounts of publishers should be sub-
mitted, like all other accounts between men who have
shares in any enterprise, to audit.

2. That authors — even experienced authors — should
take counsel with those whose business it is to study
the subject, on the best method of publishing, and as
to the risks to be encountered.

3. That, consequently, all agreements should be
examined for authors by an experienced hand.

4. That no author should allow publication to be
proceeded with until the agreement is signed.

Appendix. 329

MUSICAL PUBLICATIONS AND COPYRIGHTS.

In 1894 certain of the leading English musical
composers decided to ask the Society whether it
would use its organisation on behalf of musical author-
ship and property, to the same extent as it did on
behalf of literary authorship and property.

The matter was duly brought before the committee.
On looking through the articles of incorporation, it
was at once seen that they had been drawn up with a
view to assist all authors in the widest sense of
authorship, and the committee accordingly willingly
undertook to do their best to strengthen the rights of
musical composers to their own property, and to give
them the aid and experience of the Society in legal
and other matters.

Sir A. C. Mackenzie was elected a member of the
Council and committee, so as to be ready should any
musical question be brought forward, to give the
committee his valuable assistance.

The committee trust that their efforts in this direc-
tion may have as beneficial a result on behalf of
musical composers, as their work during the past has
had for the owners of literary property.

II.

THE QUESTION OF COPYRIGHT.

Under this heading may be mentioned the action
of the committee from time to time in procuring
counsel's opinion in disputed and doubtful cases, or in
taking cases into court, or noting and publishing
cases. The following are some of the cases and
opinions : —

1. Macdonald v. The National Review.

2. Rideal v. Kegan Paul.

3. Secret Profits.

4. Russian Copyright and Translation of Russian

Books.

330 Appendix.

5. Canadian copyright.

6. The rights of critics and criticism.

7. Assignment of right to publish.

With regard to the matter of American Copyright,
the question is now settled for a time. In March,
1891, an American Copyright Bill was passed, to take
effect from July, 1891, giving to foreign authors a
copyright in their works under certain conditions.
Some of these conditions may still be the subject of
amendment, but the desired reform, which in all our
previous circulars we have urged upon the notice of
the American public, has now substantially taken
place.

But there is no similar progress to report with
regard to domestic legislation. The Society of Authors
six years ago drafted a Bill for the amendment and
consolidation of the law of Copyright in this country.
The Bill was laid before the Board of Trade by
Mr. Underdown, Q.C., Hon. Council to the Society,
and had the general approval of all interested in
Copyright Reform. During 1890, a sub-committee
met regularly for the discussion of the Bill, under
the chairmanship of Sir Frederick Pollock, and finally
Lord Monkswell took charge of the Bill in the
House of Lords, where it was read for the first time
in November 1890, and for the second in May, 1891.
It was then shelved for the rest of the session. It is
unnecessary to say more of the details of the Bill
here, as one of the publications of the Society contains
the memorandum in full,* but it will not be amiss to
point out a few instances of defects in the existing
law, which were provided for in Lord Monkswell's
Bill, and call loudly for amendment.

1. The terms of Copyright for different classes of
work are now all different. In Lord Monkswell's
Bill they are uniform.

* " Copyright Law Reform," by J. M. Lely. Is. Gd.

Appendix. 331

2. At the present time, an article in a magazine
is locked up for twenty-eight years. In Lord
Monkswell's Bill it is proposed to give the author-
leave to reprint in three years.

3. The right to make an abridgment is for the
first time recognised by Lord Monkswell's Bill as
part of the copyright. At the present time, the
amount of mutilation possible under an unlimited
assignment of the copyright is unlimited.

4. Authors have in England at the present time
almost no dramatic rights. Lord Monkswell's Bill
secures these rights to the author of the books.

5. Lastly, the existing law consists of no less
than eighteen Acts of Parliament, besides common
law principles, which are to be found only by searching
the hxw repoi-ts. Owing to the manner in which the
Acts have been drawn, the law is in many cases
hardly intelligible, and is full of arbitrary distinctions
for which it is impossible to find a reason. Lord
Monkswell's Bill consolidates all this material.

The Society will continue to urge upon Imperial
Parliament the necessity for remedial legislation, and
begs to point out that it is the duty of all men of
letters ot all denominations to do all in their power
to secure the passage of measures so directed towards
their benefit.

The Council call attention to the fact that this
Society is the only institution which exists in this
country Jor the protection of literature. It is, there-
fore, one which demands the support of every author
in the three kingdoms and the colonies. The protection
and help it has afforded to authors is every year
growing more and more. The influence it has already
produced upon the character of agreements submitted
to authors is already very marked, and is growing
every year more and more. This influence is now
felt not by members of the Society only, but by all
who write. We work for everybody, whether they

332 Appendix.

belong to us or not. It is, however, not right that
of those who are benefited by our action some should
stand aloof and refuse to come in, and leave to the
rest the burden of support. We have, already, 1500
members, among whom are most of our leading men
and women of letters. But we ought to have five
times that number : we want everybody who writes a
book, and so makes himself a member of the great
Guild of Literature, to feel that it is his duty to
support the only Society which has ever existed for
the maintenance of his rights.

Again, the Council feel it necessary to state
emphatically that substantial progress in their objects
will follow in direct proportion, not only as the
muster-roll of members includes more and more all
living authors, but also as the Association comes to
be considered the one body which can give advice and
assistance to aspirants to the profession of letters.
When the Society of Authors can fairly boast that it
speaks and acts in the name of the entire body of
English men of letters, the mere material interests of
the profession will be protected and advanced in a
manner hitherto unknown and unattempted.

Owing to the kindness of its legal advisers, the
Society is enabled to afford its members skilled
assistance and advice which, under ordinaiy circum-
stances, they would be quite unable to procure else-
where without incurring great expense ; it should be
mentioned at the same time that the Secretary is also
a solicitor ; and the Society proposes, with the advice
of its Solicitors, to take up and tight, if necessary at
its own expense, cases which are of a special and
typical kind. This has already been done on more
than one occasion with success. ( Vide Appendix to
Report for 1891).

Finally, the Society, through its Secretary, is in
constant communication with other bodies in all parts
of the world whose interest it is to maintain the rights

Appendix. 333

of Authors in America, in Germany, in France, <fcc.,
and is constantly striving to obtain due recognition
of the rights of authorship in all civilised countries.

A great step in the right direction was made under
the Berne Convention, and it is to be hoped that the
supreme right of an Author to control the product
of his own brain will be world- wide.

The foregoing are the immediate objects of the
Society ; other and larger schemes remain for future
development.

G. HERBERT THRING,

By Order. Secretary.

THE WORK OF THE SOCIETY.

1. The maintenance, definition, and defence of

literary and musical property.

2. The consolidation and amendment of the Laws

of Domestic Copyright.

3. The promotion of International Copyright.
The first of these objects requires explanation. In

order to defend literary and musical property, the
Society acts as follows :

a. It aims at defining and establishing the prin-

ciples which should rule the methods of
publishing.

b. It examines agreements submitted to authors,

and points out to them the clauses which
are injurious to their interests, and what is
of more importance to the author, and more
difficult for the author to ascertain, what
clauses should be inserted that are omitted.
It seems hardly necessary to remark, were
it not that the fact is so often forgotten,
that such technical legal advice and labour
on, and incident to, the settling of an agree-
ment could only be acquired at the expense

334 Appendix.

of from .£2 to .£3 from the ordinary solicitor,
and that even then the great majority of the
profession have very little knowledge of the
special kind requisite for this work. The
guinea subscription to the Society seems to
be then, on this item alone, a moderate
charge for the work done ; but this is not
all the subscription covers.

c. It advises authors as to the best publishers for

their purpose, and keeps them out of the
hands of unscrupulous traders. Such in-
formation as the Society possesses and is
willing to impart to its members has been
acquired at considerable cost, and with great
trouble.

d. It publishes from time to time, books, papers,

etc., on the subjects which fall within its
province, and has published sundry books
explanatory of and bearing on the questions
and interests at stake. It has recently pub-
lished a most interesting book on publishing
contracts in certain foreign countries, kindly
written for the Society by Herr Lunge, of
Zurich. It intends to produce other works
as may from time to time be required.

e. It looks through accounts to see if they are on

the face of them correct, and advises, after
careful perusal, what course should be taken.
If necessary, with the sanction of and at the
member's expense, it appoints a reliable
accountant to vouch the accounts on the
member's behalf. This is no ordinary ac-
countant's work, but requires particular
technical skill which can only be applied
through the offices of the Society. But the
Society does more than this, for in particular
cases which involve some definite principles,
with the approval of the committee, it

Appendix. 335

undertakes to take the case entirely into its
own hands, pay the accountant's charges,
and all other costs that may be incidental
thereto.

f. It examines estimates of the cost of production,
so that in the case of an author paying for
the printing, etc., he should not be over-
charged. This is of course most advan-
tageous to writers of educational, medical,
technical, etc., books. These writers are
sometimes young men anxious to come be-
fore the public and propoxmd some new
theory. It is of vital importance that they
should lose as little by the cost of produc-
tion as possible, and the payment of one
guinea per annum seems but a small fee for
the knowledge that the Society has so
laboriously acquired, and which the Society
alone can transmit.

g. It takes action on behalf of its members for
the recovery of MSS. sent to publishers and
editors, and not returned, and for the pay-
ment of moneys due for literary work done ;
and with the sanction of the Committee or
Chairman, carries the matter if necessary
right through the court to judgment, where,
even if successful, it has to expend more
money than would be covered by many
years' subscriptions. In cases of bankruptcy,
the claims of all of its members concerned
are placed in the hands of its solicitors, and
what is possible is done to secure payment.
All the legal work of formal proof of debt,
&c., is carried through without any charge to
members.

h. It upholds, by legal action if necessary, the
important principles on which literary and
musical property is based.

336 Appendix.

i. The Secretary of the Society is himself a
solicitor, and is competent therefore to pass
a legal opinion. In cases of doubt or grave
import, he can call in the Society's consulting
solicitors to back his opinion Further, if
the question is from one cause or another
exceedingly difficult, or if the matter at
issue is one that needs the weight of a great
legal name to enforce it, with the sanction
of the Committee and at the Society's
expense, the opinion of some eminent counsel
is obtained and published for the benefit of
members. This latter course is one that
necessitates considerable outlay.
j. In every other way possible the Society pro-
tects, warns, and informs its members as to
the pecuniary interest of their works.
k. The Society issues a monthly paper devoted
to the maintenance of literary property.
The Author publishes every month the facts
and figures relating to cost of production,
the sale of books, and everything connected
with publishing. It is the only paper which
deals with these subjects. The so-called
literary papers, if they touch on them at all,
do so solely from the publisher's point of
view. The Author is issued free to all
members of the Society, but members are
invited to pay for it, if they can do so, at
an annual subscription of 6s. 6d. The
present circulation of the Author, of which
a considerable number are sold, is 2,000
every month.

All these things the Society does for the fee of
£1 Is. per annum.

The Committee have put forward these main heads
of its work, but think it necessary to mention that
in addition there are numerous minor points touching

Appendix. 337

literary property that constantly come to, and are
settled by, the Secretary.

The Committee regret the need of mentioning the
pecuniary value of the work done by the Society for
its members, but reasons for this course have arisen,
owing to the fact of certain complaints being made
by those who, joining the Society, have expected it to
do what it never undertook to perform.

It should be borne in mind that, although a
member may not have had occasion to seek the
assistance of the Society in drawing an agreement or
in auditing an account he may have benefited very
greatly by the action of the Society in other cases.
For example, many practices of overcharge for pro-
duction, of charging for advertisements not paid for,
of offering ridiculous royalties, have been rendered
difficult and dangerous; this is entirely due to the
action of the Society. It cannot be put too strongly
that every case taken up by the Committee and pushed
through to the end helps every single man or woman
engaged in the literary profession. For this reason
alone everyone so engaged ought to join the Society,
and ought to support it to the best of his ability.

CONDITIONS OF MEMBERSHIP.

The subscription is one guinea annually, payable
on the 1st of January of each year. The sum of ten
guineas for life membership entitles the subscriber to
full membership of the Society.

Cheques and Postal Orders should be crossed " The
Union Bank of London, Limited, Chancery Lane
Branch;" or, "The London Joint Stock Bank,
Limited, Westminster Branch."

Names of those who wish to be proposed as
members may be sent at any time to the Secretary
at the Secretary's offices. Subscriptions paid by
members elected after 1st of October will cover the
next year.

338 Appendix.

The Secretary can be personally consulted between
the hours of Two p.m. and Five p.m., except on
Saturdays. It is preferable that an appointment
should be made by letter.

All communications made by the Secretary to those
seeking his advice are absolutely confidential, and on
this understanding alone advice is given.

ASSOCIATES.

Persons who have not published a book can only
join the Society as Associates. The subscription and
the advantages to be obtained, are the same as those
of membership, the difference being that an Associate
has no power to vote at the General Meeting. On
notifying the Secretary of the publication of a book,
their names will be transferred to full membership.

REGULATIONS CONCERNING
MANUSCRIPTS.

1. The Society has a staff of readers who are

competent to give a critical report upon
MSS. submitted to them.

2. The fee for this service will for the future be

one guinea, unless any special reason be
present for making it higher or lower. The
amount must then be left to the Secretary's
discretion.

3. For this sum a report will be given upon

MSS. of the usual three volume length, or
upon collections of stories making in the
aggregate a work of that length.

4. In every case the fee and stamps for return

postage must accompany the MSS.

5. The fee will be given entirely to the reader.

6. The readers will not attempt to give an

opinion upon the technical character of a

Appendix. 339

work. In some cases, however, the Society
will, when required, obtain a technical
opinion.

It is requested that a label may be sent with
the MSS., having upon it the author's name,
the nom-de-plume (if any) under which the
work is written, and the address to which,
the MSS. is to be returned. This communi-
cation will be held as confidential.

The Society, while it takes every possible
care of MSS. entrusted to it, is not liable
for damage by fire or otherwise.

WARNINGS.

Authors are most earnestly warned —

1. Not to sign any agreement of which the

alleged cost of production forms an integral
part, unless an opportunity of proving the
correctness of the figures is given them.

2. Not to enter into any correspondence with

publishers who are not recommended by ex-
perienced friends, or by this Society.

3. Never, on any account whatever, to bind

themselves down to any one firm of pub-
lishers.

4. Not to accept any proposal of royalty without

consultation with the Society.

5. Not to accept any offer of money for MSS.,

without previously taking advice of the
Society.

6. Not to accept any pecuniary risk or responsi-

bility without advice.

7. Not, under ordinary circumstances, when a

MS. has been refused by the well-known
houses, to pay small houses for the produc-
tion of the work.

PUBLICATIONS OF THE SOCIETY.

1. THE ANNUAL REPORT. That for January, 1898,
can be had on application to the Secretary.

2. THEAUTHOR. A Monthly Journal devoted especially
to the protection and maintenance of Literary Property.
Issued to all Members. Annual Subscription, 6s. 6d.

3. LITERATURE AND THE PENSION LIST. By
W, MORRIS COLLES, Barrister-at-Law. 3s.

4. THE HISTORY OF THE SOCIETY DES GENS
DE LETT RES. By S. SQUIRE SPRIGGE, late Secretary
to the Society. Is.

5. THE COST OF PRODUCTION. In this work speci-
mens are given of the most important forms of type, size
of page, etc., with estimates showing what it costs to
produce the more common kinds of books. 2s. 6rf.

6. THE VARIOUS METHODS OF PUBLICATION.

By S. SQUIRE SPRIGGE. In this work, compiled from the
papers in the Society's offices, the various forms of agree-
ments proposed by Publishers to Authors are examined,
and their meaning carefully explained, with an account
of the various kinds of fraud which have been made
possible by the different clauses in their agreements. 3s.

7. COPYRIGHT LAW REFORM. An Exposition of Lord
Monkswell's Copyright Bill of 1890. With Extracts
from the Report of the Commission of 1878, and an
Appendix containing the Berne Convention and the
American Copyright Bill. By J. M. LELY, Barrister-at-
Law. Is. 6d.

8. THE SOCIETY OF AUTHORS. A Record of its
Action from the Foundation. By WALTER BESANT
(Chairman of Committee, 1888-1892). Is.

9. THE pONTRACT OF PUBLICATION in Germany,
Austria, Hungary, and Switzerland. By ERNST
LUNGE, J.U.D. 2s. Qd.

10. THE ADDENDA TO THE " METHODS OF PUB-
LISHING." By G. HERBERT THRING. Being Addi-
tional Facts collected at the office of the Society since the
publication of the " Methods," with Comments and
Advice. 2s.

INDEX.

PAGE

Act 5 and 6 Viet, c 45 ... 277

Act 7 and 8 Viet, c 12 ... 279

Advertising ... ... 151

„ no uniformity 195

,, useless .. 195

,, publishers .. 179

Advice to publishers ... 122

Agents, literary ... 214

Agreements, draft ... 191

Alleged failures . . ... 52

Always sign name . . 228
American and other rights
not to give to pub-
lisher 299

„ copyright ... 296

Arrangement, art of ... 47

Art, stud}' of ... ... 51

Articles and papers should

be clearly written ... 228

„ length of ... 226

,, rate of pay ... 229
,, should they be

signed? 255

Attractive style wanted 229
Audience, the possible ... 34
Audit necessary .. ... 202
,, points to observe 204
Author's bill, Society of 304
„ contempt for ... 16
, , claim nothing but
bare honesty ... 217
,, close union with
bookseller ... ,.. 208
„ property, posi-
tion of 275

PAGE

Authors, neglect of, by
aristocracy and the

Court 18

,, property ... 282

,, railing at authors 17

,, wore no uniform 15

Bad writers all local ... 38
Beginners want a begin-
ning 228

Berne, Conference of . . 279

Binding 150

Book, object of this . . 42

„ rights 282

,, rights may be dealt

with in four ways 280
Book rights by country 284
Bookseller and Author ... 262
„ closer union of
author and ... 208, 269
,, in a bad way... 263
British Museum recom-
mended for registra-
tion 303

Calamities and sufferings

of authors ... ... 12

Canon of style, a ... 52

Chatterton, a modern ... 27-

Colonies, copyright in ... 305
Commercial side of liter-
ature ... 132, 144
,, value and liter-
ary value ... ... 7, 20

Commission publishing ... 176

342

Index.

Commission agent, one

thing necessary ... 209

,, Example .. 177

,, a guarantee 180
,, publishing,
comparing ordinary

methods with ... 209
,, for copyright

bill 306

Composition 149

Concession vainly de-
manded 212

Conference of Berne . . 279
Consolidating Bill, diffi-
culties in 310

,, „ stops

the way 312

Contributions, receiving 247

,, to cheap

Journals ... ... 57

Copy should be kept .. 227

Copyright 270

,, Act, 18th sec-
tion 293

,, American .. 296
, , Bill, Society of

Authors 305

,, Consolidating

Bill 209

,, duration of... 302
,, international 305
„ of a serial, do
not part with ... 314
,, sale of ... 287
, , Society of
Authors appoint com-
mittee on ... ... 30

law, the first 271

,, law in Canada 300

„ what it is ... 319

„ international 319

Corrections ... ... 150

Cost of production 145-166

„ what it means ... 148

„ Example ... 154, 160

,, summary... ... 164

PAGE
Court of Cassation,

opinion of ... ... 205

Critic, a judge ... .. 67

„ born not made ... 64
Criticism, necessary every-
where ... . . 65

,, on sermons does

not exist ... .. 64

Daily paper, conduct of 232
,, „ routine of . 232
„ ,, officers in . 233
, , , , literary de-
partment ... ... 237

Dangers to guard against 198

Date of publication ... 296

Deferred royalty ... ... 290

Dishonesty and fraud ... 200

„ » how

to prove 200

the

plain facts 200

,, ,, proof

of 200

,, „ alleged
custom of trade . . . 201
Draft agreement of Pub-
lishers' Association . 191
Drama, formerly no great

prize... ... ... 106

Dramatic rights .. .. 282

Dramatist, elementary

rules 110

Dramatization of a novel 302

Duration of copyright . . . 302

Editor, great writer not

always good ... 115
„ conditions and

qualifications ... 116
,, must forget his

prejudices 117

„ value of a good... 114
, , possible services

to the country ... 119

in search of one . 224

Index.

343

PAGE

Editor, so many desire

the work 120

,, not open to in-
fluence ... .. 224
,, complaints about 225
,, keeps MSS. too long 225
, , does not return MSS 225
,, how to approach an 225
„ soil MSS. .. 225
,, complaints of ... 225
,, inform of an in-
tention of offering
paper elsewhere ... 228
„ of the better sort 226
,, master of the situ-
ation 228

„ try more than

one 314

Educational 190

books 53, 54, 140,
196, 219

English literature ... 38

Essay 189

Essayist, the popular ... 72
Examples of cost of pro-
duction ... .. 157
Exchanges, profit by ... 203
Experience, alleged ... 197
Extras... . 153, 182, 183

False start often made ... 51
Fiction an ancient art ... 80
„ occupies itself with
the whole of human-
ity 82

,, human interest
first necessity ... 83
sympathy in ... S3
select single fig-
ures as types ... 84
effect of truth in 86
must not invent 87
must be able to
describe ... ... 88

„ dramatic repre-
sentation 89

PAGE

Fiction, selection in ... 89
, , clearness of draw-
ing 96

,, methods of pre-
senting a character . 90
„ directness of pur-
pose 91

belief in the story 92
moral purpose ... 93
beauty of work-
manship ... ... 93

style 94

the story ... 96

daily practice ... 98
observations ... 98
reading ... . . 98

analysis 99

cultivation of self 100

resolution ... 101
getting advice on

MSS 101

taking trouble ... 1 02

length of work . 102

the short story . 104
Foreign languages ... 56

Form of agreement . . . 286

Gallery, the 244

General culture ... ... 50

Great Britain and the

Colonies 311

Greek and Latin classics 46

Handwriting, legible ... 227
Heads and divisions ... 48
Helping the bookseller,

how ... ... .. 267

History, books of ..188

Illustrations ... ... 153

Immunity from detection
a certain cause of dis-
honesty 201

' ' Incidental expenses "... 289
Independence of literature

growing ... ... 25

344

Index.

PAGE

Influence not needed . . . 225
Information as to cost of

production ... ... 220

,, how met by

publishers ... ... 221

Instance in bookseller . . . 263

Institute of Journalists.. 254
International and Colonial

Act of 1884 301

Is a false return a crimi-
nal offence ? 204

Journalism, a ladder ... 27

231

,, best school of 240

,, prof ession for

the young 254

Journalist, obscurity of 231
,, old Bohemian 242
, , anonymous . . . 232
, , generally be-
fore other professions 238
,, generally tries
something else first 238
,, should travel 238
,, training of ... 240
, , observation . . . 240
,, Bohemian ... 242
,, Bohemian gone 243
, , compared with
literary man . . . 250
„ large number

of 248

,, the best ... 259
,, an outside ob-
server ... ... 259

Journalists, Institute of 254

Knowledge of literature

necessary 45

Leader writing ... . 253

„ writer, the ... 71

Lecture rights ... ... 282

Length, observe usual . . . 226

Licensing Act of 1662 ... 271

PAGE

Limitation by third edi-
tion 284

,, by form of

publication ... ... 285

List of publishers to

watch 197

Literary agent ... 214,319
,, „ with a pub-
lisher 223

,, ,, uses of... 215
,, ,, care in

selecting ... ... 217

,, „ rise of ... 298
,, essay, the ... 252
,, life, the, num-
bers engaged in .. 5,6
,, ,, the, all the
professions engaged
in it . . . . . 5

,, ,, the, defini-
tion of . ... 6

,, the, denied

to be a profession ... 7
,, ,, the, fascin-
ation and charm ... 9
,, ,, contempt of 14
,, ,, position has

improved 24

„ property belongs

to author ... ... 145

,, property ... 142
„ army, the ... 51
,, life, the, reasons
for its fees .. ... 9

,, life, some dan-
gers 29

,, life, the happiest 40
,, ,, defined ... 43
,, value and Com-
mercial value ... 7

Literature, definition of 7

,, destruction of 123, 193
,, knowledge of ,
necessary ... .. 45
„ care in selec-

tion . ... 216

Index.

345

PAGE

Literature and first book 218
, , articles in maga-
zine 218

, , genesis of ... 226
Live by magazines. Do

not try to 230

Living by poetry ... 71

Lobbying 245

Local Literature... ... 37

Logrolling ... ... 69

Logic ... .. ... 47

Lord John Manners' Act 303

Lord Monkswell's Bill ... 307

Bill,

points in ... ... 307

Bill,

read in House ... 308

Bill,

final state of ... 308
,, „ intro-
duces Bill 304

Love and respect of the
world, the greatest

prize... ... ... 10

Magazine, choice of . . 226
, , article, length

of 226

,, writing for ... 135

,, how to choose 226
,, try more than

one 228

Magazines ... ... 251

,, and Quarterlies 251

Man of letters, a modern 28
„ ,, a success-
ful 36

Means 184-5

Method, the future, com-
parison with old

methods 209

„ future 207-8

,, of publication,

sale of property . . . 167
„ of publication,

profit shewn ... 168

PAGE

Methods of publication 162, 166
,, of publication,

royalty 173

,, of publication,

commission ... ... 176

Metre, study of ... ... 76

Money, beneath the con-
sideration of authors 19
Moulding ... ... 149

Musical Composition Acts

1882 and 1888 ... 303

,, critic ... 69

Must be attractive ... 229

Name, always sign . . . 228

National character lowered
by contempt of litera-
ture 27

Newspapers and maga-
zines, number of ... 61

Novel, the workings of ... 140

Novelist, art of the ... 80

,, the five stages of 138

Novelists, great number

of 59

,, incomes of ... 143

Novels, writing . ... 138

Object of this book . . 42
Observation, the founda-
tion of literature ... 62

„ how to cul-
tivate 63

,, necessary for

the essayist ... ... 63

, , necessary for

preacher and critic ... 64

Offer of a MS., form ... 297

Office expenses ... 169, 289

,, Author's. 170

,, example . 172

Paper 156

Papers, number of ... 248
Paris, Decision of Court

of Cassation... . 205

346

Index.

PAGE

Pay and rate of pay ... 229
,, on publication .. 297
, , rate of, for articles . . . 229
Penny- a-lining gone ... 243
Penny journals, contribu-
tions to 55

» „ great

number of ... ... 57

Picturesqueness wanted . 249
Plunder, ways of ..197

Poetry, absorbing ... 79

Poet, rules for a young . . 75

Possible audience, the ... 34
Profit sharing ... 168,288
,, tricks and

frauds 169

,, discounts 169
Publishers' Association

draft agreement ... 191

Publisher, choice of ... 191
„ certain points

to observe ... ... 197

, , real services

of 193, 194

,, a man of busi-
ness 146

„ expect to be

treated by a man of

business ... ... 147

,, in the employ-
ment of ... ... 121

,, the illiterate,

gone 127

,, with a, warn-
ings ... 315

Publishers' draft agree-
ments ... 191, 212, 214

services of ... 193
way of receiv-

ng tigures ... ... 221

just share ... 199

vade mecum 163

lists, to watch 197

number of .. 61

tout 129

agency, price of 300

PAGE

Publishing, bad grooves . 127

, , trading on ig-
norance of author ... 127
Publishing of the future 207
,, on Commis-
sion 288

Puppets, use of .. .. 114

Readers in 1750 31

„ in 1830 31

in 1898... 32

, , of a popular novel 35
Header. qualifications

wanted 123

,, to publishers ... 122

Registration 303

of titles ... 319

Religious journalism ... 253
,, publishers, method

of 216

Reporting 240

Reporters ... ... 241

Research ... 129

Returns of commission

publishing ... ... 177-8

Reviewing 68

Rhetoric 47

Right of audit 202

„ a common law ... 202

Risk 183

,, none for hundreds of

writers ... ... 184

,, what it really is ... 185

,, reduction of ... 185

Royal Commission of 1875 300

,, ,, report of 301

Royalties with educational

books 291

Royalty, an increasing ... 291

, , on net books . . . 290

,, system 279

" „ table of 174

,, deferred .. 175

Rule of daily work ... 52

Sale of property 167

Index.

347

Secret profits
Serial rights

PAGE
200
282, 292

Seriousness, a necessity 43

Sham degradation in con-
sidering commercial

side 132

not

existing with printers
or any other profes-
sion .., ... .. 137

Shorthand . ..245

Sign name always .. 228

Signed articles ... . . 255
, , or unsigned ? . . 254

Signing the receipt . . 296
„ paper, insist on 314

Skilled persons to consult 147

Slating 68

Society of Authors' Bill 304

„ Copy-
right Bill 305

Solicitors ignorant of liter-
ary property
,, not skilled per-
sons

Special subjects ..

Stamp s y stem, the

, , system proposed . . .

Standards

Stationers' Company
founded

Statute of Anne ... 1 70,

Stereotyping

Style

Successful man of letters, a

Summary

Sweating prices ...

Taste of the public
Technical books .. 53,

,, writers

The full mind

„ eighteenth century
careless about liter-
ature ... ... 21

PAGE

The guarantee trick 180, 181
Three requisites of an

honourable profession 24

Titles, Registration of ... 319

Touts, publishers' ... 129

Trade Journalism ... 287

,, price 181

Translations, to read ... 46
Travel important for a

Journalist 239

„ books of 189

Try more than one maga-
zine 228

Type-setting 149

Typewritten copy useful 297

Unfinished MS. , never

send it . ... 228

Unsuccessful writers ... 177

Vade mecurn, publishers' 163

147

Warnings...

296

as to publishers

315

147

as to agreements

316

187

as to profit shar-

205

ing

316

205

as to royalty . .

317

52

as to printer . .

318

"We " the editorial, what

272

it means

255

274

Writers by profession . . .

54

149

,, classified list of

59

49

Writing, importance of...

313

30

313

Young writer cannot

167

make his own terms

228

,, ,, should get

38

into as many different

187

papers as possible ...

228

141

,, ,, should sign

64

his name

228

,, ,, should send

in MSS. completed ...

228

NEW & FORTHCOMING BOOKS.

HER WILD OATS : A Story of the

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amongst the Dissenters, by JOSEPH PARKER, D.D.,
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THE QUEEN'S JUSTICE : A True

Story of Indian Village Life, by SIR EDWIN
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A TOUCH OF THE SUN, by Mrs. AYL-

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THE HISTORY OF A MAN, by THE

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THOMAS BURLEIGH, 370, OXFORD STREET, LONDON.

PR

4104

P4

1899

Besant, (Sir) Walter
The pen and the book

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