I have been engaged under my father in the working out of numerous inventions of his, and the taking out of patents on his account, also in advising others professionally with him, and by myself, and have been engaged in numerous questions of disputes resulting from patents; and I have had frequent occasion to use the patents and inventions of others. I have also had to introduce improvements of my own without patents, and to defend my use of them against patents.

I have thus for the last twenty-eight years been in the midst of everything connected with inventions, and in constant contact with the operation of the patent laws.

I have been behind the scenes the whole time.

The result has been that I have never taken out a patent myself, or ever thought of doing so; and I have gradually become convinced that the whole system of patents is, in the present advanced state of arts and science and manufactures, productive of immense evil.

I think that it does nothing of what it professes to do, and which I believe to be impracticable in the present state of things, but that, on the contrary, it impedes everything it means to encourage, and ruins the class it professes to protect, and that it is productive of immense mischief to the public.

I should wish to observe that my opinions are not formed from any theory, or from any consideration of what are or ought to be the laws of patents, or whether the details of such laws are capable of improvement or otherwise; but they are simply the result of a very long and tolerably intimate knowledge of the operation of the hope of protection held out, and the operation of that protection such as it can be when obtained; and these results do not, in my opinion, depend at all upon any question of whether patents are cheap or dear, whether they are granted sparingly or profusely, by a simple or by complicated machinery; it is the ruinous effects upon the class of inventors, of the false dreams and hopes excited by the system, and the injurious effect upon improvements of the greater or less degree of exclusive privilege which is attained, which I have had constantly before my eyes for so many years, and which must be increased by any real improvement of the patent laws.

I should, therefore, be an advocate for very cheap patents granted with great facility, to the poor illiterate workman, as well as to the rich manufacturer with his counsel and agents, and as well protected as legal ingenuity can devise.

I believe, paradoxical as it may seem, that the privileges thus promised and granted to inventors are most injurious to them. To understand this, it must be known and borne in mind that useful inventions or improvements in the present day, certainly in nine hundred and ninety-nine cases out of a thousand, are not new discoveries, but generally slight modifications of what is already in use; judicious applications of known principles and of well-known and common parts of machinery, or of common substances, very often mere revivals or re-inventions of something which had many times previously been thought of, and perhaps tried, and failed from the want only of some substance or of some tool which has since been introduced.

I believe that the most useful and novel inventions and improvements of the present day are mere progressive steps in a highly wrought and highly advanced system, suggested by, and dependent on, other previous steps, their whole value and the means of their application probably dependent on the success of some or many other inventions, some old, some new. I think also that really good improvements are not the result of inspiration; they are not, strictly speaking, inventions, but more or less the results of an observing mind, brought to bear upon circumstances as they arise, with an intimate knowledge of what has already been done, or what might now be done, by means of the present improved state of things, and that in most cases they result from a demand which circumstances happen to create. The consequence is that most good things are being thought of by many persons at the same time; and if there were publicity and freedom of communication, instead of concealment and mystery, ten times or a hundred times the number of useful ideas would be generated by each man, and with less mental effort and far less expenditure of time and money.

In the first place it must be a good thing, it must be an improvement upon the very ‘best thing’ of the same sort: the chances are of course great against this.

Secondly.—It must be new, nothing of the sort must have been in use before—how very few things can be devised which will bear this test. I do not know of half-a-dozen clear cases of distinctly new inventions since I have been acquainted with machinery and science; and, judging from analogy, I cannot bring my mind to believe that these would bear the test of a strict and searching enquiry by interested parties. The chances are then immensely against his invention, if good enough to be disputed, proving to be new enough to stand as giving a claim to exclusiveness.

Thirdly.—It must not depend for its success upon the use of some other exclusive and privileged invention, or else of course it is of little saleable value, even if not an infringement upon the previous patent.

Fourthly.—There must be a demand existing or creatable for the article produced; or, like many other good things, it will be out of time, and drop accordingly.

Fifthly.—He must find some parties whose interest it is to encourage the introduction of the change, and who have the means of combating those interests which are embarked in previous monopolies.

It is known to all persons acquainted with the subject that, in nine cases out of ten of successful inventions, the patents are not beneficially enjoyed by the original inventor. And it always must be so. The mere original invention forms generally but a small part of the whole business or merit of bringing into useful operation any new thing. Judgment, a knowledge of the world, and of business and other qualities not particularly belonging to inventors, are just as requisite as mere ingenuity, although they are not the subject of protection. Capital and connection are also generally required. All these command, as they ought to do, a large share in the ultimate profits, but it is rare that an inventor at once finds such a partner. The invention generally changes hands once or twice, or oftener, till some chance brings it into operation; and ultimately it is (as must be admitted by all who know anything about these matters) very rarely, even in the case of good things, that the party who originated the subject of the patent has ultimately any large beneficial interest in it; and certainly, from these and all the other causes mentioned, it is an undoubted fact that inventors, on the whole, make a heavy annual loss, quite irrespective of mere patent fees, by inventions and patents, and that patents are not therefore a benefit to the present class of inventors, and particularly not to the poorer members of the class.

Without the hopes of any exclusive privileges, I believe that a clever man would produce many more good ideas, and derive much more easily some benefit from them. It is true that he will aim only at earning a few pounds instead of dreaming of thousands; but he will earn these few pounds frequently, and without interfering with his daily pursuits; on the contrary, he will make himself more useful.

The impediments thrown in the way of improvements by the existence of patents will hardly be credited by those who are not familiar with the operation of them. In the present state of things they create such barriers that it is almost wonderful that any improvements can be effected.

Again, the most respectable houses take out patents merely to secure a monopoly of some one form of article without much regard to the superiority of it. The result of all this is that it is almost impossible now to introduce the slightest real improvement in anything without infringing upon some patent, and exposing oneself to be proceeded against by some patentee.

The extent to which improvements are impeded by this state of things is hardly conceivable, except to those who, like myself, are daily suffering under it.

There is another very serious evil produced by the system. In taking out a patent, the necessity for avoiding all claim to anything that can be shown to have been patented or in common use before compels you in most cases to seek rather what part of it can best be patented than what it is that is good in the invention. Comparatively trivial points are frequently patented in order to secure the monopoly of that which, although it constitutes the merit of the invention, may not happen to be so new in every respect as to admit of a patent. When the patent is taken, other modes of carrying out the real invention are discovered; these modes are patented and the original patentee is obliged to lose the benefit of his invention or to buy up these new patents. There are instances where enormous sums have been spent in this manner to protect an original invention.

And, lastly, there is an evil which acts like a numbing disease on all improvements; a patentee frequently dares not himself introduce improvements in any apparatus or process which he has patented, for fear of thus injuring his patent; and I have seen numerous cases of very important inventions where all improvement has been thus checked and resisted by the very parties most capable of effecting them, and who would have brought great talent and zeal to the work if they had been free.

March 28, 1856.

June 28, 1870.

‘Dear Isambard Brunel,—I will endeavour to supply you with some reminiscences of your father, before he became a public man, and was engrossed by the very severe labour of his profession.

‘The most striking feature in his character as a young man, and one which afterwards produced such great results, was an entire abnegation of self in his intercourse with his friends and associates.

‘His influence among them was unbounded, but never sought by him; it was the result of his love of fair play, of his uniform kindness and willingness to assist them, of the confidence he inspired in his judgment, and of the simplicity and high-mindedness of his character.

‘From 1824 to 1832 he joined his friends in every manly sport; and when, after his accident at the Tunnel, he was obliged to withdraw from more violent exercise, he was still ready to co-operate in the arrangements required to give effect to whatever was in hand.

‘Whether in boating, in pic-nic parties, or in private theatricals, he was always the life and soul of the party; for his skilful arrangements, as well as his never-failing invention and power of adaptation of whatever came to hand, made him the invariable leader in every amusement or sport in which he took part.

‘During that portion of the period to which these notes refer, when your father was engaged at the Tunnel works, the freshness and energy with which he joined in the amusements of his friends after many consecutive days and nights spent in the Tunnel—for frequently he did not go to bed, I might almost say, for weeks together—surprised them all.

‘His power of doing without sleep for long intervals was most remarkable. He also possessed the power, which I have never seen equalled in any other man, of maintaining a calm and even temper, never showing irritation even when he was bearing an amount of mental and bodily fatigue which few could have sustained. His presence of mind and courage never failed him, and it was especially exhibited after the first irruption of water into the Tunnel, when he descended in the diving-bell to examine the extent of the disturbance of the bed of the river, and the injury, if any, which had been done to the brickwork.

‘The bell could not be lowered deep enough, and he dropped himself out of the bell, holding on by a rope, and ascertained by careful examination that the brickwork was uninjured.

‘He was several minutes in the water; and upon this fact being stated, many persons, and I think the officers of the Royal Humane Society, denied the possibility of his retaining his consciousness so long in the water, forgetting, which he did not, that his lungs were filled with air at two and a half atmospheres’ pressure.

‘In 1830, he joined the Surrey Yeomanry and attended drill, and was out with the troop to which he belonged on several occasions.

‘He made friends and conciliated opponents among all classes of electors—especially among working men, large bodies of whom he met on several occasions—and among all shades of politicians; and to his energy, good judgment and skilful arrangement of electioneering details, which were not then so well understood as they now are, very much of the success achieved was due.

‘No one, I believe, ever saw him out of temper or heard him utter an ill-natured word. He often said that spite and ill-nature were the most expensive luxuries in life; and his advice, then often sought, was given with that clearness and decision, and that absence of all prejudice, which characterised his opinions in after-life.

‘All his friends of his own age were attached to him in no ordinary degree, and they watched every step in his future career with pride and interest.

‘In fact, he was a joyous, open-hearted, considerate friend, willing to contribute to the pleasure and enjoyment of those about him; well knowing his own power, but never intruding it to the annoyance of others, unless he was thwarted or opposed by pretentious ignorance; and then, though at times decided and severe in his remarks, he generally preferred leaving such individuals to themselves, rather than, by noticing them, to give prominence to their deficiencies.

‘In 1825 and 1826 he attended the morning lectures at the Royal Institution, and the eagerness and rapidity with which he followed the chemical discoveries which were then being made by Mr. Faraday, showed the facility with which he gained and retained scientific knowledge.

‘To write more would lead me to the events of a later period of his life, in the history of which you require no aid from me; nevertheless, I cannot refrain from adding a few words upon your father’s personal and professional character, which was not, in my opinion, adequately appreciated by the public.

‘His professional friends before his death, and his private friends at all times, well knew the genius, the intense energy, and indefatigable industry with which every principle and detail of his profession was mastered; and both knew and valued the high moral tone which pervaded every act of his life.

‘The public, however, did not see him under the same circumstances.

‘Their imperfect acquaintance with his character arose in a great degree from his disregard of popular approbation, for he was never so satisfied with his own work as to feel himself entitled to receive praise in the adulatory style of modern writing, and he preferred to work quietly in his own sphere, and to rely on the intrinsic merits of his undertakings bringing their reward, rather than to court temporary popularity.

‘This knowledge, always used without ostentation, soon placed him above most of his contemporaries; and his intimate acquaintance with the strength and peculiarities of the various materials he had to employ, and of the best and most economical mode of applying them, impressed both directors and contractors with a degree of confidence in his estimates and opinions which no one had before possessed.

‘His power of observation was singularly accurate; he was not satisfied with a hasty or superficial examination, nor with the mere assertion of a fact; his mind required evidence of its correctness before he could receive and adopt it. I may illustrate this by a reference to the experiments he made with French mesmerists, and the pains he took to expose the farce of table-turning and its accompanying follies.

‘It was his excellence in these respects, when still young, which soon earned for him a great reputation as a witness before the Committees of the Houses of Parliament.

‘His calmness and unobtrusive manner, when under severe examination, or while attending public meetings, led many to think him cold, and regardless of the feelings or interests of those with whom he was associated; but nothing was further from his character, as every one knew who was engaged in the consultations upon the result of which future proceedings depended.

‘He was a prudent and cautious, but bold adviser, and a warm-hearted and generous friend.

‘Yours faithfully,
‘W. Hawes.

‘Isambard Brunel, Esq.’

February, 1870.

‘My dear Isambard,—You ask me to jot down for you any reminiscences I have of your father’s love and feeling for art.

‘When your father and I went to Italy together in 1842, posting from Westminster to Rome and back again, I had ample opportunities of observing his love and enthusiasm for nature and art.

‘Overwhelmed as he was with work in England at the time, it was no easy matter for him to leave the country for a couple of months; and I remember that our starting at all was uncertain up to the last moment; and that, an hour before quitting London, it was only by a coup de théâtre, which he most adroitly performed, that he escaped the serving of a subpœna, the bearer of which had actually penetrated to the dining-room door in Duke Street.

‘I remember your father agreeing with me, that our experiences merely of post-boys and their various characteristics would be worthy of recording in detail—from Newman’s two smart lads, who took us the first stage out of London, on to the genuine “postillon” (boots and all) we found at Calais; then to the wild young brigands (in appearance) who, inspired by the prospect of extra “buon mano,” whirled us along the road from Civita Vecchia towards Rome, and winding up with the stolid German who rose slowly in his stirrups, and distracted us by a melancholy performance on the horn slung round him, and which no entreaty would induce him to give up.

‘We posted from Calais, viâ Paris, to Châlons-sur-Saône, marvelling the whole way whereabouts “La Belle France” was to be found; for a drearier and more utterly monotonous ride of something like 800 miles it is impossible to conceive. From Châlons we went down the river to Lyons, then onwards, visiting Nismes, and through Arles to Toulon.

‘The work for which your father had come to Italy commenced at Genoa, and he was met there by a staff appointed by the Government to accompany him during his stay.

‘While at Genoa he came to me one morning and said, that, in consequence of some delay, he had a week in which to make complete holiday, and gave me the choice of Florence or Rome. I need scarcely say that I chose Rome, and for three days we were in the Eternal City, seeing more in that time than those to whom we related our proceedings could believe.

‘How well do I remember our entering Rome by the gate on the Civita Vecchia road, and standing up in the carriage to get our first view of St. Peter’s, and, having seen it, the blank look of disappointment we turned on each other at the sight! But the interior of the great church as far exceeded our expectations as the exterior had fallen short of them.

‘We were back at Genoa to the minute your father had appointed; and the work being completed there, we went on to Turin. Here we were in time to be present at the Court balls and ceremonies consequent upon the marriage of the present King of Italy.

‘From Turin we proceeded to Milan.

‘At Milan your father parted from his staff, and completed the work he had undertaken as far as it was necessary to do so in Italy. From Milan, therefore, our journey home was one of uninterrupted enjoyment through those glorious Lombard towns to Venice, which happily we reached in a gondola from Mestre, and not by a railway viaduct; then through the Tyrol to Munich, and so down the Rhine to Belgium, reaching home from Antwerp.

‘The next and last time that your father and I journeyed on the Continent together was in April 1848, when he wished to see Paris in Republican garb, and asked me to accompany him.

‘We were there for some days, and, armed with cards of admission, on which our names were inscribed with the prefix of “Citoyen,” heard and saw the various celebrities of the hour.

‘Affectionately yours,
J. C. Horsley.

‘Isambard Brunel, Esq.’