ould be.[1] This, however, is precisely the state of things that,
as we are now assured, should be brought about in this country, prices
being raised, and readers being driven to the circulating library by
reason of the deficiency of the means required for forming the private
one. It is the one that _would_ be brought about should our authors,
unhappily for themselves, succeed in obtaining what is now demanded.

[Footnote 1: New York _Tribune_, Nov. 29]

The day has passed, in this country, for the recognition of either
perpetuity or universality of literary _rights_. The wealthy Carolinian,
anxious that books might be high in price, and knowing well that monopoly
privileges were opposed to freedom, gladly cooperated with Eastern authors
and publishers, anti-slavery as they professed to be. The enfranchised
black, on the contrary, desires that books may be cheap, and to that end
he and his representatives will be found in all the future co-operating
with the people of the Centre and the West in maintaining the doctrine
that literary _privileges_ exist in virtue of grants from the people who
own the materials out of which books are made; that those privileges have
been perhaps already too far extended; that there exists not even a shadow
of reason for any further extension; and that to grant what now is asked
would be a positive wrong to the many millions of consumers, as well as an
obstacle to be now placed in the road towards civilization.

The amount now paid for public service under our various governments is
more than, were it fairly distributed, would suffice for giving proper
reward to all. Unfortunately the _distribution_ is very bad, the largest
compensation generally going to those who render the smallest service. So,
too, is it with regard to literary employments; and so is it likely to
continue throughout the future. Grant all that now is asked, and the
effect will be seen in the fact, that of the vastly increased taxation
ninety per cent. will go to those who work for money alone, and are
already overpaid, leaving but little to be added to the rewards of
conscientious men with whom their work is a labor of love, as is the case
with the distinguished author of the "History of the Netherlands."

Twenty years ago, Macaulay advised his literary friends to be content,
believing, as he told them, that the existing "wholesome copyright" was
likely to "share in the disgrace and danger" of the more extended one