Ireland, and the British colonies,
containing probably thirty-two millions of people who use the English
language. The time, too, has been gradually extended until it now reaches
forty-two years, or thrice the period for which it was originally granted.
Nevertheless, no life is more precarious than that of an Englishman
dependent upon literary pursuits for support. Such men are almost
universally poor, and leading men among them, Tennyson and Sir Francis
Head for instance, gladly accept the public charity, in the form of
pensions for less than five hundred dollars a year. This is not a
consequence of limitation in the field of action, for that is six times
greater than it was when Gay netted L1,600 from a single opera, and Pope
received L6,000 for his "Homer;" five times greater than when Fielding had
L1,000 for his "Amelia;" and four times more than when Robertson had
L4,500 for his "Charles V.," Gibbon L5,000 for the second part of his
history, and McPherson L1,200 for his "Ossian."[1] Since that time money
has become greatly more abundant and less valuable; and if we desired to
compare the reward of these authors with those of the present day, the
former should be trebled in amount, which would give Robertson more than
sixty thousand dollars for a work that is comprised in three 8vo. volumes
of very moderate size. It is not a consequence of limitation of time, for
that has grown from fourteen to forty-two years--more than is required
for any book except, perhaps, one in five or ten thousand. It should not
be a consequence of poverty in the nation, for British writers assure us
that wealth so much abounds that wars are needed to prevent its too rapid
growth, and that foreign loans are indispensable for enabling the people
of Britain to find an outlet for all their vast accumulations. What, then,
is the cause of disease? Why is it that in so wealthy a nation literary
men and women are so generally poor that it should be required to bring
their poverty before the world, to aid in the demand for an extension to
other countries of the monopoly so well secured at home? In that country
the fortunes of wealthy men count by millions, and, that being the case,
an average contribution of a shilling a head towards paying for the
copyright of books, would seem to be the merest trifle to be given in
return for the pleasure and the instruction derived from the perusal of
the works of English authors, and yet even that small sum does n