in reply, which saved me from the clutches of the respectable A. and B., and quite decided me that it was better posterity should suffer from the loss of my book, than that I should suffer from the loss of my money.

I may add that the above are a few of the experiences to which any beginner is liable when acting without advice. In my successful undertakings I have been fortunate enough to fall into the hands of one of the most honourable members of the profession.

"CURSED COINCIDENCES."

London, June 10, 1890.

There is a source of great annoyance and pecuniary loss to authors for which it is possible that some remedy may be found by your aid. I can best set it forth by stating the simple fact that every one of the last six works which I have written, or on which I have collaborated, has been met or anticipated by a similar publication on the same subject; in every instance to my own detriment and annoyance, or that of others. In some of these cases the coincidence was doubtless accidental; and I am satisfied that the authors of the books were as ignorant that I was engaged on a like work, as I was of their intentions. Could we have known it I am sure that we should have been spared in one way or the other great trouble, loss, and vexation.

It is true that such an extraordinary run of bad luck savours of the marvellous; but if anyone who reads this suspects me of mistake or exaggeration, I shall be glad to supply him with all the details, and refer him to my publishers, who will fully confirm my assertions. But the history of literature is full of instances of men who, after devoting months or years to a work, have had the sorrow to learn that another had been engaged in a similar task.

The very obvious remedy for this among honourable men would be for authors to announce their intentions, and make it known in your columns what they are actually engaged on and really intend to publish. On the other hand, there are innumerable hacks and quacks in literature who would avail themselves of these very announcements to "hurry up" works on the same subjects, to say nothing of the half-honest scribes who would pre-empt a subject by declaring that they are engaged on it-the engagement being like that of the American young woman who admitted, in a

breach of promise case, that she had nothing written to prove a betrothal, nor had the defendant ever spoken to her, but that "looks had passed between them." Many men seem to think that if they have only looked at a subject it is their property for ever.

If there were a real guild of literary men holding and exercising power-such as the Society of Authors may become this great evil of "the unlucky chance," or cursed coincidence, could really be obviated. For it could declare thieves and plagiarists "niddering" or infamous, and by establishing and exacting a high code of honour it could eliminate much of the disreputable Bohemianism or carelessness as to morals from the profession of letters. And if it be not really a profession it would soon become one by the simple process of outlawing all who disgrace it. For in fact the dishonest writer is as great an injury to his betters in the craft as the dishonest publisher, and deserves even greater punishment. A few cases of flagrant meanness vigorously exposed would soon end the career of many literary sharpers. CHARLES G. LELAND.

THE EXCHANGE OF BOOKS.

W0

WOULD it be possible to open a Book Exchange in the pages of The Author? I am myself continually compelled to buy books which serve their purpose and are henceforth of no more use to me. I buy them not for their rarity but for their practical use. Others there are who are always looking out for the completion of sets or the improvement of collections, for first editions, for books specially bound, for books privately printed (of which a certain second-hand bookseller is now bringing out a catalogue). Everybody who wants books depend upon those excellent people, the second-hand booksellers and their lists. They depend upon the people who, like myself, are always wanting to get rid of books. Why cannot The Author give us space, if only a page, to advertise our wants and our wares? Members of the Society should, perhaps, be allowed to take up a certain space for the mere cost of the printing and paper. Other people might be made to pay for the privilege at such a rate as would assist the finances of the paper. Can my suggestion find a corner?

F. R. S.

LEAFLET No. II.

ON ROYALTIES.

HAT is loosely and ignorantly called "The Royalty System"-a system where all is chaos-may be defined as payment by results. It came into existence chiefly as a sop to authors who were discontented with the so-called half-profit system, after it had been worked into a system which gave all the profits to the publisher. "At least," they thought, "there will be something for us if we are to have so much for every copy sold." They therefore signed any agreement in this sense that was placed in their hands without asking what it meant-what the proposed arrangement kept for the publisher and what it would give them. They signed what they were told to sign, and they took what was offered them. They began to sign these royalty agreements about twenty years ago, when the " system" first came into use. They have continued to sign them; they are signing them every day, and it is not too much to say that not one single author up to this day of writing, outside the office of the Society, knows when he signs, what he has kept for himself, or what proportion of the results of his labour he has given to the man who sells his book.

In accordance with the principles of this Society, which endeavours to throw light upon everything connected with the production and sale of books, or in other words, enables authors to understand exactly what they give away and what they reserve —what, in fact, an agreement means-the Leaflet of this month is devoted to a very brief statement of the "Royalty System" in its various forms applied to author and publisher.

The discovery that the author was as easily gulled by a Royalty as by a show of half profits, caused certain gentry to introduce improvements into the original plan. Thus the Royalty at first offered and eagerly taken by the ignorant author was 10 per cent. on the published price from the beginning. Then one man sharper than his brothers discovered that his authors would take 5 per cent. from the beginning; another that his men

would take 10 per cent. on the trade price; a third, and this was the most happy discovery of all, that his men would take 10 per cent., to begin when a great number of copies had been first sold.

In the forthcoming work on "Methods of Publication," the author prints a table which shows the working of the system and the results to author and publisher.

He takes as an example an ordinary novel in one volume, sold at 6s., a very common form of book at this day. These six shilling novels vary considerably in length, running from 70,000 words

to 180,000 words-or even more. The average length, however, may be taken as from 70,000 to 100,000 words.

The cost of producing such a work is, with a liberal allowance for advertising, as follows:

(1) For the first 1,000 copies nearly £100. (2) For the second edition of 3,000 copies, £120, or with a liberal increase of advertising, £150.

(3) If the success be so great as to justify a large edition of 10,000, the cost of production of this edition would be about £360, or with increased advertising say £400.

(4) The trade price of the book varies from 3s. 4d. to 3s. 8d. We may fairly take it at

3s. 6d.

The trade price is generally arrived at bytaking two-thirds of the published price and allowing thirteen copies as twelve. In the case of the great distributing houses an additional 10 per cent. is allowed. There are also cases in which lower terms are given for special reasons. Many copies, however, are sold at a higher price.

(5) The publisher therefore obtains—

a. For the first edition of 1,000 copies, £175.

B. For a second edition of 3,000 copies,

£525

7. For an edition of 10,000 copies, £1,750. Out of this he has to pay the author, printer, papermaker, binder, and the advertisements.

We might proceed at once to our table, but for one objection which will be raised. It is this.

Suppose the publisher prints 10,000 copies and sells only 1,000 copies, he then has 9,000 copies on his hands. That is true. To overprint is a mistake that inexperienced publishers often make: experienced, rarely. The wise publisher feels his way even though to print 3,000 only will cost him a halfpenny more on each copy than boldly to order 10,000. When the demand for a popular book ceases, which is not suddenly but gradually, the prudent publisher is not generally left with many copies on hand. It must be remembered that we are here speaking of a popular and successful book, of which there are a great many issued every year. Now, then, for our table. publisher's profits (1) what he pays to the author, (2) what he pays for production. The reader will see set forth in order the respective shares of profit presented by a 5 per cent. up to a 35 per cent. royalty to author and to publisher. The percentage is taken on the published price, the full price of 6s.

We deduct from the

Since it is more common to meet with a success corresponding with the second than with the first table, let us consider what the figures mean. They speak for themselves, but to those who cannot understand figures let us explain.

"Your publisher, dear Sir or Madam, when he benevolently offers you a 5 per cent. royalty, will on a second edition of 3,000 copies make £330 to your £45, i.e., eight times your share. If he gives you 10 per cent.-which is common-he will make £285 to your £90, that is, three times your share. If 15 per cent. he will make £240 to your £135, ie., twice your share. If 20 per cent., £195 to your £180. If 25 per cent., £170 to your £225. If 30 per cent., £105 to your £270. Consider this, and refuse the 10 per cent. with indignation."

As for the "fancy" royalties, those on trade price, those to begin when a certain number of copies have gone and so forth, the reader may calculate for himself the meaning of these proposals. We will, however, on a future occasion assist his calculations. With the help of these tables, too, the reader will be able to make an intelligent attempt towards finding an answer to the question, "What proportion of profit should in equity be the share of the publisher in the case of a book which has no risk?"

be extended at the death of an Author to his widow and children."

Every one may not know the pathetic incident to which the Fund actually owed its origin. It was this. A member of a club in London, much frequented by literary men, being arrested for a small debt, died in consequence. It then leaked out that the unfortunate scholar had lived for years in the extremest poverty, but had borne his sufferings in silence. Some fifteen years before this occurrence, in the very club of which he was a member, an attempt had been set on foot to found some sort of pension scheme, but it had fallen through, after a few desultory meetings. This, however, galvanized it into life again.

Mr. David Williams was from the first the life and soul of the movement. He had been the person with whom the idea first originated, and he was the first to assist in its resuscitation. He organized the scheme, and was indefatigable in its promotion. He levied taxes on all his friends and acquaintances, and persuaded actors, poets, and princes to sound the praises of the new institution. We fear he must have been, good worthy man, a terrible bore.

We learn that he himself made house-to-house visits in behalf of his project, and collected large sums of money in that way. In addition to which he gave personal attention to all the routine business, with the result that, when the Society had literally thousands invested, and a most magnificent roll of supporters, the executive expenses were returned as only £50.

In 1818 the Society was incorporated.

After Williams's death, however, the Society had rather a stormy time. This was not only due to the loss of their indefatigable leader. The extreme secrecy with which the doles were made, while showing the kindly delicacy of the administrators, might, it is obvious, if sufficient care were not taken, be the source of abuse. Sufficient care was not taken, and abuses followed.

The affairs of the Society were at that time administered by an Executive Committee and a Council. The Executive Committee did the work, and the Council lent their name. When some of the work could not be approved of, a quarrel took place between the Council and the Committee. Many of the Council joined in the general demand for an investigation into the manner in which the Society's affairs had been conducted.

Then came an agitation for reform. The leader of this was Dickens, who attributed the malpractices, which had undoubtedly occurred, to the demoralizing effect inflicted upon men by much sitting on boards of direction. The demand was to a certain extent acceded to, and Dickens, Mr. Wentworth

Dilke, and Sir E. L. Bulwer were placed upon the first Committee of reform, and no one has since that day breathed a word against the way in which the Fund is administered.

The benefits are disposed entirely without regard to religious sect, the only disqualification being offences against public morality. Neither are they confined to Englishmen. At the dinner of 1822, when Chateaubriand's health was proposed by the Duke of York, as the ambassador of France, he mentioned, in his acknowledgment of the toast, that he was himself aware of the benevolent character of the Fund, for, during the period of the French Revolution, a French literary gentleman was in difficulties, and these difficulties having been represented to the Committee by one of his friends, a sum was voted sufficient to relieve him from all anxiety, and that at a time when the institution was itself struggling into notice. This gentleman, Chateaubriand continued, was thus enabled to maintain his ground. At the Restoration he returned to France to acquire fresh honours as a literary man, and to rise in the favour of his Sovereign. He had now returned to England, but in a different capacity-as the ambassador of his Sovereign; and he was that man.

When Macaulay inveighed against all institutions having for their object the pecuniary relief of authors, he was taking a position he might be expected to take, one which it was dignified for him to take, and one which we sincerely wish could rationally be taken. Macaulay's contention was that good work would always find sufficient pay, and that therefore the very people who would require such assistance were the people who did not do good work. That, in fact, all such Societies must lead to the encouragement of the incompetent. This of course is very far from being the case. A great deal of admirable work, useful to mankind, and most creditable to the author, never can command sufficient circulation to make it remunerative.

The Fund most wisely allows for the fact that, whereas while the author is able to work at full pressure, he may keep his head above water, there may come a time when such a state cannot be continued. His methods may get out of date. The very lucidity of his teaching may have enabled some younger man, more in touch with modern thought, to carry similar work to a point of higher perfection. Old age and sickness may arrive. At once poverty stares the author of unremunerative work in the face. He need be in no way improvident and yet be unable to lay aside money to meet such an emergency.

It is in such cases as these that the bounty of the Royal Literary Fund is freely and delicately bestowed.

It is in such cases as these that such assistance is too often urgently necessary.

There exists another institution for the relief of authors. There is a provision on the Civil List for pensions to the amount of £1,200 per annum, which should be devoted to the reward of (1) Persons having just claims on the Royal benevolence; (2) Persons who have rendered personal service to the Crown; (3) Persons who have benefited the public by discoveries in science; (4) Persons who have benefited the public by their attainments in literature and the arts.

Mr. Colles' book* has shown very clearly that these pensions are awarded in a most reprehensible manner, and are very generally devoted to the relief of people often having no claim to charity at all, certainly having no claim upon this establishment, and occasionally having a distinct claim to bounty from other sources. The author may well look somewhat askance at an institution whose

benefits are administered with so much caprice, and so regularly reaped by the wrong people.

While there is no doubt that the writers of much good work do not derive much good pay from it, so that in certain cases the assistance of charity becomes absolutely needful, it is perfectly certain that there would be fewer such cases if the literary man were more alive to his own interests, more careful of his own property. We learn from the Prince of Wales's speech that the Royal Literary Fund has lately made grants to the families of the late J. G. Wood and the late R. A. Proctor. These men's names were household words; their teaching and their books were known in every family. They were not devoted to abstract and abstruse science; they did not produce works of great research, appealing necessarily to so small a public as to make it impossible that their work should be pecuniarily successful. On the contrary, they were the most popular expositors whom the world has ever seen of the physical and natural wonders of the world. Their books had an enormous popular circulation, and the fact that it has been necessary for their families to apply for assistance to the Royal Literary Fund speaks volumes for the statement made so often in the paper of this Society. "The nature of literary property is misunderstood and its very reality is hardly recognized." Had these writers understood the value of their own property they would never, perhaps, have become the recipients either in life, or through their widows, after death, of the Literary Fund Bounty.

"Literature and the Pension List," by W. Morris Colles. Cr. 8vo., 35. 6d. Henry Glaisher, 95, Strand, W.C.

VOL. I.

T

A HARD CASE.

No. II

HIS publisher, Mr. Henry SkimpingtonBrown, prided himself on his doublebarrelled name. It certainly lent weight

to his assurances that he was in a position to produce guarantees from most influential people that he was honest-nay more, that he was generous.

He came under the notice of the Society of Authors in the following way. He was an advertising person, whose letter paper bore the elastic title of "publisher" upon it, and whose address was in Fleet Street. An author, bitten by one of his specious circulars, sent a manuscript to him for his consideration. Here is the author's account of

what followed :

"I unfortunately entrusted my book to Mr. Skimpington-Brown. He engaged to publish for me any number of copies required "up to 1,000," beginning at 200. The book came out. I at once began to receive letters from friends, acquaintances, and book-sellers, complaining that they could not obtain copies through the ordinary channels. Mr. Mudie also informed me privately that my publisher was I wrote requite unable to meet his orders. peatedly to Mr. Skimpington-Brown demanding an explanation. Sometimes I got an evasive answer; generally no notice was taken of my letters. By this time I was quite certain that something was wrong, and a friend of mine, who interviewed him for me, elicited from him:-that he had only printed 100 copies; that the type had been broken up; and that he had not enough money to pay for composition again."

The author had given the man £80 to produce the book. Now, although a part of the money paid was for advertisement of the book, no advertisements were ever seen except in a trade circular once or twice. Hardly any copies were sent out for review. What reviews were obtained were very good ones.

Therefore when the author applied to the Society of Authors, the position of affairs was thus:-He had been induced to pay the publisher a sum of money equivalent to double as much as was actually spent in bringing the little book out; also an extra £5 on some pretext or other; third, a large sum for author's corrections. Only 100 copies were printed. The circulating libraries could not put the book on their lists, because they could get no copies. The author had received nothing back but a small sum obtained by privately disposing of a few copies to his friends.

A few letters were written which seemed to have

D