CONSIDERATIONS ON THE CASE OF DR. T[RAPP]'S SERMONS.* ABRIDGED BY MR. CAVE, 1739. 1. THAT the copy of a book is the property of is under the protection of the law; but my rethe author, and that he may, by sale or other-putation as an author is at the mercy of the wise, transfer that property to another, who has reader, who lies under no other obligations to a right to be protected in the possession of that property, so transferred, is not to be denied. 2. That the complainants may be lawfully invested with the property of this copy, is likewise granted. 3. But the complainants have mistaken the nature of this property; and, in consequence of their mistake, have supposed it to be invaded by an act, in itself legal, and justifiable by an uninterrupted series of precedents, from the first establishment of printing among us, down to the present time. 4. He that purchases the copy of a book, purchases the sole right of printing it, and of vending the books printed according to it; but has no right to add to it, or take from it, without the author's consent, who still preserves such a right in it, as follows from the right every man has to preserve his own reputation. 5. Every single book, so sold by the proprietor, becomes the property of the buyer, who purchases with the book the right of making use of it as he shall think most convenient, either for his own improvement or amusement, or the benefit or entertainment of mankind. 6. This right the reader of a book may use many ways to the disadvantage both of the author and the proprietor, which yet they have not any right to complain of, because the author when he wrote, and the proprietor when he purchased, the copy, knew, or ought to have known, that the one wrote and the other purchased under the hazard of such treatment from the buyer and reader, and without any security from the bad consequences of that treatment except the excellence of the book. 7. Reputation and property are of different kinds; one kind of each is more necessary to be secured by the law than another, and the law has provided more effectually for its defence. My character as a man, a subject, or a trader, do me justice than those of religion and morality. If a man calls me rebel or bankrupt, I may prosecute and punish him; but if a man calls me idiot or plagiary, I have no remedy, since, by selling him the book, I admit his privilege of judging, and declaring his judgment, and can appeal only to other readers, if I think myself injured. 8. In different characters we are more or less protected; to hiss a pleader at the bar, would perhaps be deemed illegal and punishable, but to hiss a dramatic writer is justifiable by custom. 9. What is here said of the writer, extends itself naturally to the purchaser of a copy, since the one seldom suffers without the other. 10. By these liberties it is obvious that authors and proprietors may often suffer, and sometimes unjustly: but as these liberties are encouraged and allowed for the same reason with writing itself, for the discovery and propagation of truth, though, like other human goods, they have their alloys and ill-consequences, yet, as their advantages abundantly prepon derate, they have never yet been abolished or restrained. 11. Thus every book, when it falls into the hands of the reader, is liable to be examined, confuted, censured, translated, and abridged: any of which may destroy the credit of the author, or hinder the sale of the book. 12. That all these liberties are allowed, and cannot be prohibited without manifest disadvantage to the public, may be easily proved; but we shall confine ourselves to the liberty of making epitomes, which gives occasion to our prese... inquiry. 13. That an uninterrupted prescription confers a right, will be easily granted, especially if it appears that the prescription, pleaded in defen of that right, might at any time have been interrupted, had it not been always thought agreeable to reason and to justice. Dr. Trapp, it will be recollected, was a popular be found of all kinds of writings, afford sufficient 14. The numberless abridgments that are to preacher; and about the year 1739, when Methodism might be said to be in its infancy, preached Four Ser-evidence that they were always thought legal, mons "On the Nature, Folly, Sin and Danger, of being for they are printed with the names of the abrighteous over much" which were published by Austen and Gilliver, and had an extensive sale. Mr. Cave, ever ready to oblige his readers with temporary subjects, took an extract from them, and promised a continuation, which never appeared; so that it was either stopped by a prosecution, or made up by other means. On all diffi. cult occasions Johnson was Cave's oracle. And the paper breviators and publishers, and without the least appearance of a clandestine transaction. Many of the books so abridged were the properties of men who wanted neither wealth, nor interest, nor spirit to sue for justice, if they had thought now before us was certainly written on that occasion. themselves injured. Many of these abridgments Gent. Mag. July, 1787. Imust have been made by men whom we can least suspect of illegal practices, for there are few books of late that are not abridged. 15. When Bishop Burnet heard that his "History of the Reformation" was about to be abridged, he did not think of appealing to the Court of Chancery; but, to avoid any misrepresentation of his History, epitomised it himself, as he tells us in his preface. 16. But, lest it should be imagined that an author might do this rather by choice than necessity, we shall produce two more instances of the like practice, where it would certainly not have been borne if it had been suspected of illegality. The one, in Clarendon's History, which was abridged in 2 vols. 8vo.; and the other in Bishop Burnet's "History of his own Time," abridged in the same manner. The first of these books was the property of the University of Oxford, a body tenacious enough of their rights; the other, of Bishop Burnet's heirs, whose circumstances were such as made them very sensible of any diminution of their inheritance. 17. It is observable, that both these abridgments last mentioned, with many others that might be produced, were made when the act of parliament for securing the property of copies was in force, and which, if that property was injured, afforded an easy redress: what then can be inferred from the silence and forbearance of the proprietors, but that they thought an epitome of a book no violation of the right of the proprietor. 18. That their opinion, so contrary to their own interest, was founded in reason, will appear from the nature and end of an abridgment. 19. The design of an abridgment is, to benefit mankind by facilitating the attainment of knowledge, and by contracting arguments, relations, or descriptions, into a narrow compass; to convey instruction in the easiest method, with out fatiguing the attention, burdening the memory, or impairing the health of the student. 22. To abridge a book, therefore, is no viola tion of the right of the proprietor, because to be subject to the hazard of an abridgment was an original condition of the property. 23. Thus we see the right of abridging authors established both by reason and the customs of trade. But, perhaps, the necessity of this practice may appear more evident, from a consideration of the consequences that must probably follow from the prohibition of it. 24. If abridgments be condemned as injurious to the proprietor of the copy, where will this argument end? Must not confutations be likewise prohibited for the same reason? or, in writings of entertainment, will not criticisms at least be entirely suppressed, as equally hurtful to the proprietor, and certainly not more necessary to the public? 25. Will not authors who write for pay, and who are rewarded commonly according to the bulk of their work, be tempted to fill their works with superfluities and digressions, when the dread of an abridgment is taken away, as doubtless more negligences would be committed, and more falsehoods published, if men were not restrained by the fear of censure and confutation? 26. How many useful works will the busy, the indolent, and the less wealthy part of mankind be deprived of? How few will read or purchase forty-four large volumes of the Transactions of the Royal Society, which, in abridgment, are generally read, to the great improvement of philosophy? 27. How must general systems of sciences be written, which are nothing more than epitomes of those authors who have written on particular branches, and whose works are made less necessary by such collections? Can he that destroys the profit of many copies, be less criminal than he that lessens the sale of one? 28. Even to confute an erroneous book will 20. By this method the original author be- become more difficult, since it has always been comes, perhaps, of less value, and the proprietor's a custom to abridge the author whose assertions profits are diminished; but these inconve- are examined, and sometimes to transcribe all niences give way to the advantage received by the essential parts of his book. Must an inmankind from the easier propagation of know-quirer after truth be debarred from the benefit ledge; for as an incorrect book is lawfully criti- of such confutations, unless he purchases the cised, and false assertions justly confuted, book, however useless, that gave occasion to the because it is more the interest of mankind that answer? error should be detected and truth discovered, than that the proprietors of a particular book should enjoy their profits undiminished; so a tedious volume may no less lawfully be abridged, remains only, that we show that we have not. because it is better that the proprietors should printed the complainant's copy, but abridged it. suffer some damage, than that the acquisition of 30. This will need no proof, since it will apknowledge should be obstructed with unneces- pear, upon comparing the two books, that we sary difficulties, and the valuable hours of thou-have reduced thirty-seven pages to thirteen of sands thrown away. the same print. 29. Having thus endeavoured to prove the legality of abridgments from custom, and the necessity of continuing that custom from reason, 21. Therefore, as he that buys the copy of a book, 31. Our design is, to give our readers a short buys it under this condition, that it is liable to be view of the present controversy; and we require confuted if it is false, however his property may that one of these two positions be proved, either be affected by such a confutation; so he buys it that we have no right to exhibit such a view, or likewise liable to be abridged if it be tedious, how-that we can exhibit it without epitomising the ever his property may suffer by the abridgment.writers of each party. LETTER ON FIREWORKS. FROM THE GENTLEMAN'S MAGAZINE, Jan. 1749. have set Europe in a flame, and, after having gazed a while at their fireworks, have laid themselves down where they rose, to inquire for what they had been contending. It is remarked likewise, that this blaze, so transitory and so useless, will be to be paid for, when it shines no longer: and many cannot forbear observing, how many lasting advantages might be purchased, how many acres might be drained, how many ways repaired, how many debtors might be released, how many widows and orphans, whom the war has ruined, might be relieved, by the expense which is about to evaporate in smoke, and to be scattered in rockets: and there are some who think not only reason, but humanity, offended, by such a trifling profusion, when so many sailors are starving, and so many churches sinking into ruins. The first reflection that naturally arises is upon the inequality of the effect to the cause. Here are vast sums expended, many hands, and some heads employed, from day to day, and from month to month, and the whole nation is filled with expectations, by delineations and narratives. And in what is all this to end? in a building that is to attract the admiration of ages? in a bridge, which may facilitate the commerce of future generations? in a work of any kind which may stand as the model of beauty, or the pattern of virtue? To show the blessings of the late change of our state* by any monument of these kinds, were a project worthy not only of wealth, and power, and greatness, but of learning, wisdom, and virtue. But nothing of this kind is designed; nothing more is projected, than a crowd, a shout, and a blaze: the mighty work of artifice and contrivance is to be set on fire for no other purpose that I can see, than to show how idle pyrotechnical virtuosos have been busy. Four hours the sun will shine, and then fall from his orb, and lose his memory and his lustre together; the spectators will disperse as their inclinations lead them, and wonder by what strange infatuation they had been drawn together. In this will consist the only propriety The fireworks are, I suppose, prepared, and of this transient show, that it will resemble the therefore it is too late to obviate the project: but war of which it celebrates the period. The I hope the generosity of the great is not so far powers of this part of the world, after long pre-extinguished, as that they can for their diversion parations, deep intrigues, and subtile schemes, drain a nation already exhausted, and make us * The peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, 1748. It is no improper inquiry by whom this expense is at last to be borne: for certainly nothing can be more unreasonable than to tax the nation for a blaze, which will be extinguished before many of them know it has been lighted; nor will it be consistent with the common practice, which directs that local advantages shall be procured at the expense of the district that enjoys them. I never found in any records, that any town petitioned the parliament for a maypole, a bull-ring, or a skittle-ground; and, therefore, I should think, fireworks, as they are less durable, and less useful, have at least as little claim to the public purse. pay for pictures in the fire, which none will have the poor pleasure of beholding but themselves. PROPOSALS FOR PRINTING BY SUBSCRIPTION, ESSAYS IN VERSE AND PROSE, BY ANNA WILLIAMS. FROM THE GENTLEMAN's Magazine, sept. 1750. WHEN a writer of my sex solicits the regard | study, for furnishing the world with literary enof the public, some apology seems always to be expected; and it is unhappily too much in my power to satisfy this demand; since, how little soever I may be qualified, either by nature or tertainments, I have such motives for venturing my little performances into the light, as are suf ficient to counterbalance the censure of arrogance and to turn off my attention from the 550 threats of criticism. The world will perhaps be | press. The candour of those that have already something softened when it shall be known, that my intention was to have lived by means more suited to my ability, from which being now cut off by a total privation of sight, I have been persuaded to suffer such Essays as I had formerly written, to be collected, and fitted, if they can be fitted, by the kindness of my friends, for the encouraged me, will, I hope, pardon the delays incident to a work which must be performed by other eyes and other hands: and censure may surely be content to spare the compositions of a woman, written for amusement, and published for necessity. A PROJECT FOR THE EMPLOYMENT OF AUTHORS. FROM THE UNIVERSAL VISITER, APRIL, 1756. SIR, TO THE VISITER. pleasure, it might well be doubted in what degree of estimation they should be held; but when they are referred to necessity, the controversy is at an end: it soon appears, that though they may sometimes incommode us, yet human life would scarcely rise, without them, above the common existence of animal nature: we might indeed breathe and eat in universal ignorance, but must want all that gives pleasure or security, all the embellishments and delights, and most of the conveniences and comforts of our present I KNOW not what apology to make for the little dissertation which I have sent, and which I will not deny that I have sent with design that you should print it. I know that admonition is very seldom grateful, and that authors are eminently choleric; yet, I hope, that you, and every impartial reader, will be convinced, that I intend the benefit of the public, and the advancement of knowledge; and that every reader, into whose condition. hands this shall happen to fall, will rank himself Literature is a kind of intellectual light, which, among those who are to be excepted from gene-like the light of the sun, may sometimes enable ral censure. I am, Sir, your humble servant. Scire velim quare toties mihi, Navole, tristis Occurris fronte obductâ, ceu Marsya victus.-Juv. There is no gift of nature, or effect of art, however beneficial to mankind, which either by casual deviations, or foolish perversions, is not sometimes mischievous. Whatever may be the cause of happiness, may be made likewise the cause of misery. The medicine, which, rightly applied, has power to cure, has, when rashness or ignorance prescribes it, the same power to destroy. us to see what we do not like; but who would wish to escape unpleasing objects, by condemning himself to perpetual darkness? Since, therefore, letters are thus indispensably necessary, since we cannot persuade ourselves to lose their benefits for the sake of escaping their mischiefs, it is worth our serious inquiry, how their benefits may be increased and their mischiefs lessened; by what means the harvest of our studies may afford us more corn and less chaff; and how the roses of the gardens of science may gratify us more with their fragrance, and prick us less with their thorns. I have computed, at some hours of leisure, the I shall not at present mention the more forloss and gain of literature, and set the pain which midable evils which the misapplication of literait produces against the pleasure. Such calcula- ture produces, nor speak of churches infected tions are indeed at a great distance from mathe- with heresy, states inflamed with sedition, or matical exactness, as they arise from the induc- schools infatuated with hypothetical fictions. tion of a few particulars, and from observations These are evils which mankind have always made rather according to the temper of the com- lamented, and which, till mankind grow wise and putist, than the nature of things. But such a modest, they must, I am afraid, continue to lanarrow survey as can be taken, will easily showment, without hope of remedy. I shall now that letters cause many blessings, and inflict touch only on some lighter and less extensive many calamities; that there is scarcely an indi- evils, yet such as are sufficiently heavy to those vidual who may not consider them as imme- that feel them, and are of late so widely diffused, diately or mediately influencing his life, as they are chief instruments of conveying knowledge, and transmitting sentiments; and almost every man learns, by their means, all that is right or wrong in his sentiments and conduct. If letters were considered only as means of as to deserve, though perhaps not the notice of the legislature, yet the consideration of those whose benevolence inclines them to a voluntary care of public happiness. It was long ago observed by Virgil, and I suppose by many before him, that "Bees do not make honey for their own use;" the sweets their minds to form inconsiderate hopes, they which they collect in their laborious excursions, are harassed and dejected with frequent disapand store up in their hives with so much skill,pointments. are seized by those who have contributed neither toil nor art to the collection; and the poor animal is either destroyed by the invader, or left to shift without a supply. The condition is nearly the same of the gatherer of honey, and the gatherer of knowledge. The bee and the author work alike for others, and often lose the profit of their labour. The case, therefore, of authors, however hitherto neglected, may claim regard. Every body of men is important according to the joint proportion of their usefulness and their number. Individuals, however they may excel, cannot hope to be considered singly as of great weight in the political balance; and multitudes, though they may, merely by their bulk, demand some notice, are yet not of much value, unless they contribute to ease the burden of society, by cooperating to its prosperity. If I were to form an adage of misery, or fix the lowest point to which humanity could fall, I should be tempted to name the life of an author. Many universal comparisons there are by which misery is expressed. We talk of a man teased like a bear at the stake, tormented like a toad under a harrow, or hunted like a dog with a stick at his tail; all these are indeed states of uneasiness, but what are they to the life of an author! of an author worried by critics, tormented by his bookseller, and hunted by his creditors. Yet such must be the case of many among the retailers of knowledge, while they continue thus to swarm over the land; and, whether it be by propagation or contagion, produce new writers to heighten the general distress, to increase confusion, and hasten famine. Having long studied the varieties of life, I can Of the men, whose condition we are now ex-guess by every man's walk, or air, to what state amining, the usefulness never was disputed; of the community he belongs. Every man has they are known to be the great disseminators of noted the legs of a tailor, and the gait of a scaknowledge, and guardians of the commonwealth; man, and a little extension of his physiognomical and of late their number has been so much in acquisitions will teach him to distinguish the creased, that they are become a very conspi- countenance of an author. It is my practice, cuous part of the nation. It is not now, as in when I am in want of amusement, to place myformer times, when men studied long, and passed self for an hour at Temple Bar, or any other through the severities of discipline, and the pro- narrow pass much frequented, and examine one bation of public trials, before they presumed to by one the looks of the passengers; and I have think themselves qualified for instructors of their commonly found, that, between the hours-of countrymen; there is found a nearer way to eleven and four, every sixth man is an author. fame and erudition, and the inclosures of litera- They are seldom to be seen very early in the ture are thrown open to every man whom idle-morning, or late in the evening, but about dinner ness disposes to loiter, or whom pride inclines to time they are all in motion, and have one uniform set himself to view. The sailor publishes his eagerness in their faces, which gives little oppor journal, the farmer writes the process of his an-tunity of discerning their hopes or fears, their nual labour; he that succeeds in his trade, pleasures or their pains. thinks his wealth a proof of his understanding, and boldly tutors the public; he that fails, considers his miscarriage as the consequence of a capacity too great for the business of a shop, and amuses himself in the Fleet with writing or translating. The last century imagined, that a man, composing in his chariot, was a new object of curiosity; but how much would the wonder have been increased by a footman studying behind it? There is now no class of men without its authors, from the peer to the thresher; nor can the sons of literature be confined any longer to Grub-street or Moorfields; they are spread over all the town and all the country, and fill every stage of habitation from the cellar to the garret. But in the afternoon, when they have all dined, or composed themselves to pass the day without a dinner, their passions have full play, and I can perceive one man wondering at the stupidity of the public, by which his new book has been totally neglected; another cursing the French, who fright away literary curiosity by their threats of an invasion; another swearing at his bookseller, who will advance no money without copy; another perusing as he walks, his publisher's bill; another murmuring at an unanswerable criticism; another determining to write no more to a generation of barbarians; and another resolving to try once again, whether he cannot awaken the drowsy world to a sense of his merit. It sometimes happens, that there may be remarked among them a smile of complacence, or a strut of elevation; but if these favourites of fortune are carefully watched for a few days, they seldom fail to show the transitoriness of human felicity; the crest falls, the gayety is ended, and there appear evident tokens of a successful rival, or a fickle patron. It is well known, that the price of commodities must always fall as the quantity is increased, and that no trade can allow its professors to be multiplied beyond a certain number. The great misery of writers proceeds from their multitude. We easily perceive that in a nation of clothiers, no man could have any cloth to make but for his own back; that in a community of bakers every But of all authors, those are the most wretched, man must use his own bread; and what can be who exhibit their productions on the theatre, and the case of a nation of authors, but that every who are to propitiate first the manager, and then man must be content to read his book to himself? the public. Many an humble visitant have I for surely it is vain to hope, that of men labour-followed to the doors of these lords of the drama, ing at the same occupation, any will prefer the work of his neighbour to his own; yet this expectation, wild as it is, seems to be indulged by many of the writing race, and therefore it can be no wonder, that like all other men who suffer seen him touch the knocker with a shaking hand, and, after long deliberation, adventure to solicit entrance, by a single knock; but I never stayed to see them come out from their audience, because my heart is tender, and being subject to frights |