FROM the time of the invention of printing, about 1450, to the end of the fifteenth century, the works of living authors played practically no part in the German book-trade, and the question of commercial results for their writers did not call for consideration. The printers and publishers of this period busied themselves almost exclusively in putting into print the manuscripts of the earlier ages. In this class of undertakings the principal task was to secure through the collation of different manuscripts an authoritative and trustworthy text, and the literary service required was not that of an author but of an editor. It is the contention of Schurmann and of other German historians that in the folio and quarto reprints of the fifteenth century German printers took the lead, and that their preëminence was hardly contested by the other printers of Europe until the time of the Reformation. This view, however, fails to do justice to the importance of the scholarly labours of Aldus of Venice, who was unquestionably the leading publisher of the fifteenth and early sixteenth century. As previously pointed out, Luther was probably the first German author to draw attention to the iniquity of literary piracy, and to prophesy the evils that must result to the development of German literature unless legislation could be secured that would make a substantial recognition of the property rights of literary producers. He took the ground that such recognition could not be adequately given by the system of privileges, the tendency of which was to narrow instead of to widen the conception of literary property. He emphasised also the right of the author to come into direct relations with his reader, and by means of his personal control of all the editions circulated of his works to preserve his text from corruption (Text-Verfälschung) and to have the assurance that the words that came to the reader were the words that had originally been written by the author.

Luther’s interest in this question of the correctness of the text was, in fact, much keener than in regard to the remuneration of the author, and he was even ready to give his aid to unauthorised issues of his own writings by correcting the proofs of the same. The accuracy of the text was, of course, of special importance in connection with the vital subjects which Luther was presenting to the attention of his readers, and was also the more difficult of attainment on account of the material differences at that time existing between the dialects of North and South Germany.

He writes in 1524: “Des falschen Druckens und Bücherverderbens fleissingen sich jetzt viele.”[154] (There are many now busying themselves with the spoiling of books through misprinting them.)

Literary piracy in Germany may be said to have begun almost at once with the invention of printing. Before manuscript copies had been replaced by printed books, the possession of a manuscript was held to carry with it the right to make copies of the same ad libitum. As a very natural, though hardly warranted consequence of this practice, the possession of a printed copy of a work was for a considerable time also believed to carry with it the right to make and to dispose of further printed copies, and the first upholders of an author’s copyright found themselves obliged to contend against the claim of “ancient precedent.”

Early in the history of the German book-trade, there arose a practice among leading publishers of respecting each other’s undertakings, irrespective of any privileges or other legal protection given to the works in question. To this practice there were, of course, numerous exceptions, but it exercised nevertheless, during the period previous to the existence of national copyright systems, an important influence in educating trade opinion and public opinion to a recognition of and a respect for literary property. The many important publications of Anthoni Koberger of Nuremberg, whose business activity dated from 1473, were issued entirely without privilege, and appear, with a few exceptions, not to have been interfered with by rival publishers. He took pains to protect himself by giving to those publishers whose competition was most likely to be serious, shares in his more important ventures. In 1495, for instance, he entered into a compact with Nicholas Kessler, of Basel, under which each agreed not to interfere or to compete in any way with works undertaken by the other.

The works of Albert Dürer, both in art and in literature, afford early examples of the attempts of local governments to secure protection for copyrights. In 1512, complaint was made to the Magistracy of Nuremberg that a certain man was offering for sale some prints or drawings which pretended to be the work of Dürer and which bore Dürer’s signature, but that both the designs and the signatures were counterfeits. Thausing[155] is of opinion that it was only the forgery of the signatures that was complained of, but Schurmann appears to believe that there had been an attempt also to imitate Dürer’s work. The decision of the magistrates was that the sale of these prints must be stopped, and that the copies remaining which bore the fraudulent signature must be confiscated. In 1532, some time after the death of Dürer, a certain Hans Guldemund re-engraved the Triomph-wagen, and began to sell impressions from this unauthorised plate. The magistrates, upon being appealed to by Dürer’s widow, promptly forbade Guldemund to make any further sales. The latter evidently delayed giving obedience to the order, and this was accordingly re-affirmed two weeks later.

Dürer’s Instruction in Perspective, first published in 1525, appeared in Paris in a Latin translation in 1532, and copies of this Paris edition shortly found their way into sale in Nuremberg and in other German cities. Dürer’s widow, who had, in 1528, secured an imperial privilege for her husband’s writings, made complaint of these unauthorised sales, and, in October, 1532, the magistrates of Nuremberg summoned all the booksellers of the town and cautioned them against keeping in stock or selling any copies of the unauthorised editions. On the same day, copies of this Nuremberg order were sent to the magistrates of Strasburg, Frankfort, Leipzig, and Antwerp, with the request that similar orders should be issued in those cities for the protection of Dürer’s works. It does not appear for how long a term the widow succeeded in protecting these copyrights either in Nuremberg or elsewhere.

The last case in which the infringement of Dürer’s works came into question presents an instance of a larger claim for the protection of an author’s idea than would be accepted under modern copyright law. Dürer’s treatise on Proportion was being put into print in Nuremberg by Hieronymus Andreä. It became known, however, that Andreä, in conjunction with a painter named Beham, himself had in preparation a work on the subject of Proportion, and in July, 1528, the magistrates of Nuremberg issued an edict forbidding these two authors from proceeding with the publication of their volume (which must, he saw fit to assume, have been based upon the labours of Dürer) until the publication of the authentic work (das rechte Werk) had been completed. Beham protested that his volume was entirely original and quite distinct in its plan from that of Dürer. The magistrates, however, took the ground that the idea or plan of a treatise on this subject had originated with Dürer, and that Dürer’s heirs were entitled to be protected against any attempt to diminish (by means of such advance competition) the commercial value of such plan. Beham was obliged to content himself by publishing at this time that part of his work only which had to do with the subject of Proportion in Horses. His chapters on Proportion in the Human Figure were held in manuscript until 1546, when they were printed in book form in Frankfort. The completion of his publication showed that he had been entirely correct in his contention that he had not borrowed in any way from the material left by Dürer. The magistrates themselves do not appear to have adhered to their original charge that Andreä and Beham were pirating Dürer’s work, or they would, instead of simply prohibiting their publication until the Dürer book was in the market, have enjoined its publication altogether as a plagiarism or infringement. They seem simply to have convinced themselves that Dürer’s wife and other heirs were entitled to the first fruits of any profits that could be secured from the subject of Proportion, on the ground that Dürer was the first author to give attention to this subject.

In certain special instances, such as the above, local pride in an author of fame, and personal interest on the part of the magistrates, served to bring about a special protection for literary productions. It appears, however, that German authors could not, as a rule, depend upon securing even a local protection for their works simply on the ground of prior publication, as it is from this time, namely the first third of the sixteenth century, that special privileges begin to make their appearance.

Under an order of the Rath of the city of Basel, issued in October, 1531, printers of books in that city were enjoined from reprinting or pirating the books of each other, for a term of three years after the first publication of such books, under a penalty of one hundred guldens. Schurmann understands that this and similar local ordinances had no reference to the protection of new works by contemporary writers, but were designed simply to prevent unprofitable competition in connection with new editions of standard or classical works. If a printer or publisher issued an edition of a book belonging to this class, he was to be protected for a term of three years, within the territory of the municipality, against the competition of other editions (whether better or poorer, dearer or cheaper) of the same book.

As far as new and original works were concerned, it appears as if the possession of a copy, or at least of a copy in manuscript form, was held to carry with it the right to reproduce. This right there were in any case, until the middle of the eighteenth century, practical difficulties in the way of gainsaying for rival reproductions which were not put into print within the same municipality. It was only with the organisation of the book-trade in the middle of the eighteenth century and the establishment in Frankfort and Leipzig of the Book-Fairs with their systems of book-exchanges, that there began to be any systematic efforts to protect literary and publishing undertakings over the territory covered by the book-trade of the empire.

Until nearly the end of the eighteenth century, the protection of literary property in Germany depended upon the system of privileges, imperial or local; but these privileges were, for the most part, concerned simply with the property interests of the publishers and printers, only a small proportion of them having to do with modern books or with the rights of living authors. Such privileges covered, at the outset, three classes of literary undertakings: first, official publications, a term including in the earlier times the service books of the Church and school text-books as well as the authorised text of government edicts, laws, and announcements; secondly, editions of works taken from the body of the world’s literature (literärisches Gemeingut), i.e., the first printing (Vordrück) of the same; and third, new works presenting a first consideration of a specific subject, more particularly of a subject of a scientific, technical, or practical nature. For this last class of undertakings, the recipient of the privilege claimed a control not only of the specific book which he had produced or of which he was the owner, but a monopoly for the time being, within the district covered by the privilege, of the subject considered in such book.

The writer who had, for instance, produced a book on the Use of Herbs, or the publisher who had employed a writer to prepare such a book (the subject not having been treated before, or at least not recently) would consider himself aggrieved and would contend that his rights had been infringed, if the publication within the same territory of another book on herbs should be permitted. If the privilege covered an edition of a Latin author, the holder believed himself authorised to prevent the publication within the territory covered by his privilege of any other edition of the same author, even although such competing edition might, in respect to the revision of the text and to the editorial work in the notes and commentaries, be entirely distinct from his own.

Local privileges of this kind, which undertook to give to the possessor an exclusive control for a certain term of a specific classic text, were, of course, practically identical with the trade monopolies, also characteristic of the age, which were conceded for the sale, within certain territories, of articles of assured commercial value, such as salt or wool. Such privileges can hardly be classed with copyrights.

Local privileges came, before long, to be divided into two classes, the one entitled privileges “for works” or “for books,” and the other “for writers” or “for authors.” The Frankfort ordinance of 1660 distinguishes between Bücher and Autores. The Tractatus de typographis, bibliopolis, etc., of Fitsch, published in 1675, speaks of privileges for libros et scriptores, and again for autores et libros. The earliest German privilege of which there is trustworthy record was issued in 1501 by the Imperial Council, not to an individual, but to an association entitled the Sodalitas Rhenana Celtica (Rhenish Celtic Society) for the publication of an edition of the dramas of Hroswitha of Gandersheim, which had been prepared for the Press by Conrad Celtes. These dramas had been written about 985. This Hroswitha privilege, while later than the early Venice privileges, antedates by two years the first instance in France, and by seventeen years, the first in England. After 1501, there is a long series of imperial privileges issued directly by the Imperial Chancellor in the name of the Emperor. One of the earlier of these was given for Lectura aurea semper Domini Abbatis antiqui super quinque libris decretalium, in 1510, a work printed by Johann Schott. In 1512, an imperial privilege was issued to the historiographer, John Stadius, for all that he should print, the first European privilege which was made to cover more than a single work or which undertook to protect books not yet published. I find no record in Germany of any privileges similar to those cited in Venice, for a whole class of works, or for an entire language.

An imperial patent of 1685 uses the terms (as if in antithesis to each other) “A privileged book,” and “A book purchased from its author” (vom Authore mit Kösten erhandelten Buch). Later, we find references to “privileged” and “non-privileged” books, under the latter being understood original works by contemporary writers. Pütter (who may be called the father of the modern theory of property in literary productions), writing in 1764, uses for the unprivileged books the term eigenthumlich (individual), and for the privileged the term nicht-eigenthumlich (non-individual).

It is to be inferred from such examples that it was customary to secure privileges only for reissues of old books (which reissues might, of course, and usually did, constitute the first publication for Germany), or for a monopoly of some special subject. For original works by living writers (except in connection with a claim to control the subject) privileges were apparently not, as a rule, thought to be necessary or to add materially to the protection of the author’s rights. The practice in different States and in different cities, however, evidently varied very considerably, and there must have been no little uncertainty and confusion from the conflicting claims of authors, publishers, and printers undertaking to control in several States the sales of books for which privileges had been secured in but one.

Pütter is of opinion[156] that the purpose of authors in securing privileges was at this time not so much to protect themselves from piracy as to prevent or impede competition. In no other way, as he contends, can well be explained the short terms (six, three, and even two years) for which these privileges to authors were issued, as it is evident that they could not have expected to sacrifice their authors’ rights or, as we should now say, their copyrights, at the expiration of such terms.

Schurmann concludes that the system of privileges had, in fact, little connection with the recognition or the protection of the rights of authors as producers (such rights as English authors were about this time beginning to claim under the common law). The advantage secured by an author under a privilege was, on the one hand, a certain monopoly (usually, of course, for a limited territory as well as for a limited term), and on the other, a simpler and more effective method of controlling or protecting his books than that afforded by the system of proceedings under the law.

The possessor of an imperial privilege was, at least nominally, in a position to enforce penalties against an unauthorised reprinter in any portion of the empire, and without reference to the local authorities, the principal limitation on such action being the difficulties not infrequently placed in his way by local officials who happened not to be well disposed towards the imperial authority. At the Frankfort Fair, however, which soon came to be recognised as the central and controlling organisation and exchange not only of the German but of the European book-trade, an imperial privilege was usually accepted as of valid and adequate authority.

Notwithstanding such recognition of imperial authority, the records of German publishing during the last half of the seventeenth century and the first portion of the eighteenth are full of complaints of piracies and of contentions concerning the control of literary property.

The purpose and the effect of the imperial privilege system would not be rightly estimated if we failed to remember that they were intended to secure an imperial supervision of literary production no less than an assured foundation for the business of publishing books. No works could secure an imperial privilege that had not first received the approval of the censors in charge of the district in which the book was printed. In case the work concerned itself with political affairs, the censorship was usually referred directly to certain imperial councillors in Vienna (Reichshofrath). Sometimes the imperial censors found it necessary to override the authority of the local examiners and to revoke their authorisations. In 1777, the Berlin publisher Nicolai secured a privilege for the publication of The Life and Opinions of Johann Burkels. The year following, the privilege was cancelled from Vienna, on the ground that it had been obtained surreptitiously and with the connivance of certain Prussian censors who were in sympathy with “the gross errors of the Arians and Socinians.” The circulation of the work within the Holy Roman Empire was at the same time prohibited.

The grounds upon which the imperial authority claimed the right to supervise the literary productions of the realm are not quite clear. In an official document of 1780, occurs the phrase, “The regulation of books (das Bücher-regal) which has for many years been within the control of the Emperor.” In a memoir addressed to the Emperor, in 1762, by the imperial Hofrath, the former is referred to as the tribunal in which from the beginning of the sixteenth century have been vested the control and supervision of the literature produced within the realm.

Schurmann is of opinion that the authority for the regulation of books (Bücher-regal) was derived from or connected with the rights reserved to the imperial authority under the Golden Bull. To these rights belonged the control of the final judicial appeal, and the issue and supervision of all claim of privileges. A century after the issue of the Golden Bull, at the time of the invention of printing, the reserved powers (Reserva-rechte) of the empire had become materially weakened, and were being in large part exercised by local authorities, and the attempt of the Emperor to enforce control over literary production and distribution, now becoming of such extended importance, was from the outset met by no little antagonism and protest on the part of princes and municipal magistracies.

The contention of these latter that the control of this new department of industry and production rested properly with them, was strengthened by the fact that the business of book-publishing was of necessity dependent upon the printing-presses, and the right to license and to protect the presses had never been included in the imperial powers, but had from the outset been exercised by the princes or magistrates. An evidence of this local control of the presses is afforded by the form (in use from the earliest times) of the oath which had to be taken by all printers working under such local licenses. This oath, while making due recognition of the local authority under which the licence was issued, bound the printers also to an observance of the imperial enactments. The requirement of the local licences was, however, evidently not universal, for we hear of certain “corner printing-offices” (Winkel-drückereien) which appear to have worked outside of any local control.

The attempts of the imperial authority to secure an imperial supervision over the literary output of the realm, were to some extent confused and interfered with by the contention of the Church that such supervision properly belonged to her. The Archbishop of Mayence, who was also the Chancellor of the Empire, was especially active in enforcing an ecclesiastical censorship over all the presses and publishing concerns within his diocese, which happened to include the most important of the earlier centres of publishing enterprise. His example was followed by other bishops throughout the empire, and the records show that such ecclesiastical censorship was exercised from the several diocesan capitals and also from such Universities as those of Cologne, Trèves (Trier), and Leipzig.[157]

The emperors were not likely to accept with patience this clerical interference with a domain regarded as their own, and, in 1455, Frederick III. appointed Doctor Jacob Össler to the post of imperial supervisor of literature and superintendent of printing, an appointment which was confirmed by Frederick’s successor, Maximilian I. Össler was a jurist, but his censorship included the control of theological literature, as if it were the intention of the Emperor to emphasise the authority of the lay power as against the pretensions of the Church. The headquarters of the imperial superintendent of literature were placed in Strasburg, which was at the time the most important town in the empire for printing and for bookselling.

In 1512, a so-called “privilege,” one of the earliest, was issued by the Emperor Maximilian I. to Johann Stab in Lintz, “historiographer and cartographer.” It covered “all works” which he “might cause to be printed.” It is the understanding of Kapp, however, that this authorisation is to be understood not as a privilege but as an appointment to the office of “supervisor of books.” The records contain the titles of a number of books, engravings, and charts as having been issued under the authority and with the name (imprint?) of the historiographer, with permissions or licences protecting them against competition for the term of ten years. It appears, further, that he had the power to shorten this term of protection, and to declare the works open to reprinting within a shorter period than ten years. The privileges thus controlled by Stab were for “books,” not for “authors,” and can probably, therefore, be understood as having to do only with material which was not the production of contemporary writers. There is nothing to show what range of territory was covered by Stab’s supervisorship, or whether this may be considered as having possessed equal authority with that of Össler, or as having been subordinated to this.

Dr. Jacob Spiegel, secretary to the Emperor, appears also to have exercised, between the dates of 1515-1520, the functions of a supervisor or censor of literature, and the stamp of his official approval is found on several books of the time. On the Germania of Æneas Sylvius (afterwards Pius II.), originally issued in Italy in 1464, and printed for the first time in Germany in 1515, by R. Beck of Strasburg, the form of approval or privilege is worded as follows: Per Cesarem. Ad Mandatum Cesaris Majest. proprium Jacob Spiegel.

The question has been raised as to why the decrees of the imperial Diet contain no references to the imperial control of book-publishing. Schurmann explains this omission on the ground that such control was exercised as a personal right of the Emperor. In 1495, a time when under the leadership of Berthold, Elector of Mayence, a concerted effort was made on the part of the electors and princes to limit in various respects the authority and privileges of the imperial Crown, the contention saw made (quite in the spirit of the eighteenth century) that the princes and those deputed by them for the task, were much better able than the Emperor could be, to judge for their several domains what books should be permitted and what should be forbidden.

Reference has already been made to the privilege issued in 1501, for an edition of the dramas of the nun Hroswitha. Hroswitha, or Helena von Rossow, was a nun of the Benedictine convent of Gandersheim, who had died nearly six hundred years before. Her literary work is referred to in an earlier chapter. The privilege to Celtes was, therefore, in the nature of a monopoly for material which, in the absence of such privilege, would have remained common property. This privilege is of interest as indicating that at the time it was issued the imperial authority over literary property was recognised by the States and municipalities of Germany as extending only over the imperial cities (Reichsstädte). Even to this control there was a noteworthy exception, as Frankfort, which in connection with its Book-Fair was becoming each year of greater importance as a centre of the book-trade, was apparently not included in the territory covered by an imperial privilege, and its magistracy had retained the right to issue privileges on its own account. We find, therefore, that Celtes, in this same year, 1501, secured a privilege for his book from the Magistracy of Frankfort.

Schurmann draws a distinction between the imperial privileges which emanated directly from Vienna, and those issued in Nuremberg and elsewhere under the authority of the Reichsregiment, or imperial Diet, and says that well authenticated instances of the former class begin only with the year 1510, and that for the succeeding half century the number issued was but inconsiderable.

It was only after 1569, when the imperial commission was appointed to supervise the operations of the Book-Fair at Frankfort, that the imperial privileges became numerous and important. The small part taken by the imperial authority during this half century in the supervision of literature appears to have been due to the fact that in the particular districts where book-publishing was most active there was the greater unwillingness to recognise that its control properly belonged within the functions of the Emperor. Under the imperial decrees of Nuremberg, in 1524, of Speyer, in 1529, and of Augsburg, in 1530, the contention of the Emperor to control as a personal function of the Crown the whole business of printing and publishing, was replaced by an arrangement under which the immediate supervision of the printing-presses was left to the local or state governments, while the imperial authority provided (through magistrates appointed for the purpose) a final court of appeal.

After the battle of Mühlberg, in 1547, the claims of the Emperor to the full control of nearly all divisions of government were asserted with fresh vigour and persistency, and, in 1548, an imperial edict was issued placing the presses of the empire under strict police supervision, especially with reference to any publications which had to do with ecclesiastical matters. There continued, however, to be more or less confusion in connection with the exact bearing of the imperial enactments concerning literary property, and these enactments were very far from securing any general obedience. There was also no little counterfeiting and falsification of the imperial privileges.

On this ground, Maximilian II., in 1569, called upon the Magistracy of Frankfort to establish or to enforce better police regulations for the protection of privileged books, and for the prevention of the publication of books that had not been inspected and licensed. The magistracy endeavoured to free the city from the responsibility of such a task, and requested the Emperor to send to Frankfort some scholarly commissioners to take charge of the proposed supervision. This request was fulfilled, in 1579, by Rudolph II., who directed the clerk of the imperial Court and the Dean of the Frankfort Convent to serve as the first members of such commission.

This imperial commission, working in Frankfort, exercised an influence over all the book-trade of which Frankfort was the centre. Its operations were very largely controlled by the interests, real or imaginary, of the Catholic Church, and the oppressive supervision and arbitrary censorship which resulted had not a little to do with the discouraging of literary undertakings in Frankfort and with the transfer of publishing enterprise and of the business of book distribution to Protestant Leipzig.

With the growth of Leipzig as a book-producing and book-selling centre, the privileges issued in the Electorate of Saxony assume an increasing importance, and from 1598 we find that these electoral privileges are being largely secured by publishers throughout Germany. A commission was appointed by the Elector to take the supervision of the Book-Fair, and the literary responsibilities of this electoral commission very soon largely exceeded those of the imperial commission sitting in Frankfort, the more particularly as, after 1627, an imperial privilege, unless confirmed by the Leipzig commission, was very frequently disregarded altogether by the Leipzig book-dealers. While the imperial and the Saxon privileges are, in connection of course with their influence upon the book-trade of Frankfort and of Leipzig, the best known and the most frequently referred to in the history of literary production in Germany, the encouragement given to the trade of printing and publishing by certain so-called “particular” privileges must not be lost sight of. An early example of this class was the “Letter of aid and protection” (Schirm und Versprech-brief) which the Elector Frederic I., as Landgrave of Alsace, in 1466, gave to master Heinrich Eckstein, “for the purpose of furthering his good trade of printing,” ecclesiastical and lay protection by water and by land. A more comprehensive and more “particular” privilege was that previously referred to which had been issued, in 1469, by the Senate of Venice to the German printer, Johann von Speyer (Johann de Spira), under which was given, for the term of ten years, the exclusive right to do printing within the Venetian dominions.

Throughout the German realm, this form of the protection or encouragement of book-production appears to have been exercised chiefly by the imperial cities. There was evidently among the earlier German publishers a good deal of dependence upon what would now be called the courtesy of the trade, an understanding under which the publishers or printers in any one State, or at least in any one town, would refrain from interference with each other’s undertakings. This understanding or arrangement was, however, assisted by the short-term privileges, a protection already referred to issued by the municipalities, or their magistrates, and forbidding interference for periods ranging from six months to five years.

In Brandenburg, the development of the system of privileges was of necessity retarded by the slow progress made within the electorate by the business of book-publishing or book-selling. Between the years 1544 and 1575, the present capital of the German Empire contained not a single printing-press (several attempts made previous to 1544 to establish a printing business having failed), and what little printing work it required it was obliged to have done in Wittenberg or Frankfort on the Oder. In 1567, Johann Eichhorn, of Frankfort on the Oder, received a privilege to carry on a printing business, which privilege provided that within the entire Mark no competing printing-office should be authorised or permitted.

The first book-dealer in Berlin was Hans Werner, who, in 1594, established his printing-office and shop on the Cologne side of the Spree. He secured from the Elector John George, “for the furtherance of public interests,” a privilege authorising the publication of certain works (in the main, text-books and books for Church worship) which had passed the censorship of the Faculty of the University of Frankfort on the Oder. Any parties reprinting these books were to be fined two hundred thalers, half of the fine going to Werner. He also received an authorisation to establish a bindery, in the event of the work done for him by the existing bindery proving unsatisfactory. He was further exempted from municipal taxes on the condition that he should not overcharge the citizens of Berlin for his books. It is not stated by what authority the question of overcharging was to be determined.

For twenty years, Werner’s establishment remained the only book concern in Berlin. In 1613, he fell into disfavour with the Elector, John Sigismund (who had become a convert to Calvinism), by refusing to publish the writings of the Reformed Church. His privilege was not withdrawn, but a new privilege was issued to the Brothers Hans, with whom was associated Samuel Kalle, for the publication of religious and theological works. The new firm received, either from the Elector or from the municipality, a gift of sufficient lumber with which to build its shop. By the beginning of the eighteenth century, the number of privileged book-dealers in Berlin had risen to four, but at that date but one, Michael Rudiger, was a publisher on his own account. In 1702, The Orphanage Publishing Concern of Halle (das Hallische Waisenhaus), a firm still in existence, was authorised to open a book-shop in Berlin. With the exception of the productions of this Orphanage Press in Halle, the publications of Brandenburg-Prussia, during the reign of the first two kings, were in the main restricted to Bibles, Hymnals, calendars, and text-books. The privileges in the new Prussian kingdom, while in form merely authorisations for the printing of books, covered, in fact, considerably more than such authorisations. They included protection against reprinting or piracy, guarantees against local competition, freedom from taxes and imposts, and not infrequently assurances of material aid in establishing a book-business and in carrying it through its first and most difficult period. The earlier Prussian monarchs were evidently fully appreciative of the importance to the higher welfare of the state of this new business of publishing, and were ready to do whatever might be within the power of the Government to encourage its development.

With the increase of book-production in Prussia and in North Germany generally, we find a change in business methods, and a tendency to separate the work of publishing from that of printing. With this change comes a different arrangement of privileges, and a closer distinction between authorisations or protections issued for literary productions and concessions granted for the purpose of furthering certain trade undertakings. The former class came to be known as “general” and the latter as “special” privileges; they were also spoken of respectively as publishing privileges and printing privileges (Verlags und Drück Privilegien). Under the latter classification came calendars and periodicals. Roughly speaking, the former class of privileges had for their purpose what we should now term the protection of copyrights, and the latter the prevention or limitation of competition. The imperial “general” privileges continued to be substantially limited in their range to the imperial cities, at least in so far as they carried with them monopoly rights.

The Saxon “general” privileges were found to confuse or interfere with the working of the Leipzig Book-Fair privileges, and with the beginning of the seventeenth century they ceased to be issued. The Fair privileges did not undertake to confer any “monopoly” rights for a literary undertaking, but simply to secure for a work the right to be offered to the book-trade of Germany, in so far at least as this trade now concentrated itself in Leipzig. The fees for this Book-Fair privilege went into the treasury of the Fair.

The privileges issued by the Book-Fairs or Book-Trade Associations of Frankfort and Leipzig are peculiar in the respect that they make no distinction between publishing and printing authorisations (Verlags und Drück Privilegien). Through this lack of recognition of a distinction which had always heretofore obtained, and also by reason of the similar form given to the special privileges whose short terms called from time to time for renewal, not a little confusion arose in the work of regulating the relations of the book-trade. It is, in fact, only surprising that the confusion and the difficulty were not greater,— considering that general and special privileges, not only imperial and Saxon and Prussian, but emanating also from various of the principalities of the empire, together with the trade privileges of the Frankfort and Leipzig Associations, were all more or less in force for any one assortment of books that could be offered for sale at the two Fairs. It was not until the eighteenth century that the confusing and inadequate system of imperial and local privileges was replaced by interstate copyright conventions which secured a uniformity of protection for literary property throughout the States of the German Empire.

The historian Luden says:

“The printing-press is important, not so much on the ground of its reproduction or multiplication of copies of a written work, but because of the assurance that these copies will be distributed. It is hardly to be denied that in the thought of trafficking in ideas there is something repelling from which it is difficult to free one’s mind.”[158]

When Luden was writing, the “war of liberation” had just been brought to a close, and, for the first time since the battle of Jena, the territory of North Germany was free from the presence of the invader. It was less than a decade since the publisher Palm had been shot, under the instructions of Napoleon, for printing a pamphlet in defence of the liberty of Germany. The Weimar historian and the other German writers of his time might well have been interested in the question of the right of authors to secure an untrammelled circulation for their productions. At this time, however, nearly a century after the death of Palm, a martyr to the cause of the freedom of the Press, the imperial Government of Germany is not yet prepared to concede such freedom to its political critics. The Palm of to-day would indeed not be shot, but he might be imprisoned and his Press would certainly be stopped.

It was speedily realised that while the production of books could be developed almost indefinitely, the practicability of securing a remunerative distribution of books would be very closely limited unless the inadequacy of the ordinary trading regulations could be supplemented by a special system of legislation planned to meet the special requirements of this new object of trade.

In the beginning of the book-making industry, the printer was known simply as printer, as it was understood without further specification that he must also be the publisher of the works printed by him. Soon, however, we find associated with his undertakings the names of partners who had nothing directly to do with the book-manufacturing, but who contributed their aid either for the sake of literary development or for some other motives apart from the thought of business profit, and in the lists of such associates occur the names of nobles, of ecclesiastics, and of wealthy scholars. Later, we find record of printing-houses of larger resources who did not need and did not accept coöperation from outsiders; while, as a still later development come the publishing firms who have separated themselves altogether from the technical work of book-manufacturing and who employ only the presses and the binderies of other concerns. With the beginning of the sixteenth century, begins a transformation of book-printers into simple book-dealers or publishers. This change was, of course, however, far from being universal, but limited itself in the main to the book-concerns of the two Fair-centres, Frankfort and Leipzig.

A little later is to be noted an increase in the number of the publications, the risk and outlay for which were greater than could safely be assumed by a single publisher, and in the production of which several publishers were associated, unless the individual publisher had secured the necessary aid from some princely friend, or occasionally even from a corporation (like the Town Council of Nuremberg).

Erasmus, writing in the year 1523, concerning the publishing House of Johann Froben of Basel, speaks of the three methods under which Froben’s books were placed in the market. The smaller works, for which the risk was not too considerable, he would publish as ventures of his own; while for the more important undertakings, he would often secure the aid of some outside capitalist, for whom Froben would act simply as a commission agent. The third method was to give shares in the venture to fellow publishers like Lachner, also of Basel, Koberger of Nuremberg, and Birckmann of Cologne.

Even with such arrangements, however, for the division of editions between firms having each its own special channels of distribution, the facilities for placing books in the hands of buyers, and probably also the actual demand on the part of any possible buyers, remained very inadequate in proportion to the means of production and to the pressure for production. Books which were very much wanted by a certain number of readers, were not wanted by enough people to ensure a remunerative sale, and hence resulted not a few disappointments, losses, and misfortunes to printers and to publishers. Luther, in his Table-Talk, makes reference to these troubles of the printers, but believes the cause of the same to be simply the commercial greed and lack of intellectual interest on the part of the public.

The period 1650-1764 witnessed the growth of the system of book-exchange, under which, publishers in disposing of their productions were obliged to accept in payment the stock of other publishers, and the net market value of books came to be measured in other books. This method, if it did not add very promptly to the receipts of the dealers, had at least the advantage of facilitating the distribution of books, and of furthering the organisation of the book-trade. In concentrating into the hands of a single individual the business of publishing, distributing, and retailing books, it necessitated the giving of exclusive attention to the work of handling books.

In the “printers’ period,” the men who interested themselves in the management of printing ventures were very apt to interest themselves also in other business undertakings. Döring, for instance, was in the first place a goldsmith, and only secondly a printer. Lotter, who did some of the first printing for Luther, kept a wine-shop and an inn, in which he not infrequently had Luther as his guest. Cranach, in addition to being a painter and an apothecary, carried on a shop for the sale of books and printing-paper, and finally, in 1524, established a printing-office, and, associating with himself Döring, entered upon the production of a complete set of the writings of Luther.[159]

The necessity of securing for the work of a printing-office the services of scholarly assistants for the proof-reading was speedily recognised. Not many printers were competent to take the responsibility assumed by the Venetian Aldus, of revising and even of annotating the texts as printed, and many were the complaints concerning the grievous errors contained in the earlier volumes printed in Germany, and the unfavourable comparisons made between the work of the German compositors and that which came from the earlier Italian or Paris printers. Authors contended, with Luther, that the first and chief right of an author was to have his message correctly presented to his readers, while scholarly readers were outspoken in their protests against the marring through the vagaries and blunders of the typesetters of the beauty of classical texts or the purport of theologic instruction. The better printing-houses finally associated with their work scholarly editors who took charge, not merely of the proof-reading but of the general supervision of the manuscripts or texts as these passed through the press; and the work of a “press-corrector” came to be considered as professional in its requirements and importance.[160]

There was, nevertheless, in certain scholarly circles, a prejudice against the receipt of money for literary work, or, as Erasmus put it, against being paid by one’s printer. The objection of Luther to gaining pecuniary advantage from his writings rested, however, upon the different ground that his literary work was carried on for the cause of the Lord and that “Christ had already rewarded him a thousandfold.”

Erasmus made it a ground for criticism upon Ulrich von Hutten that the latter had permitted himself to accept money from his printer.[161] Brunsel, the defender of Hutten, denied that he had ever been paid for his writings, but contended further that if such payment had been made, it was no reason for reproach. A workman had a right to be paid for his work. In any case, said Brunsel, such a criticism came with a bad grace from Erasmus, who had been under pay with Aldus Manutius of Venice and with Froben of Basel. From the latter he was said to have received a yearly honorarium of two hundred guldens, in payment apparently of editorial service. There is record of a payment by Aldus, in 1508, of twenty pieces of gold for some work done by Erasmus in revising and preparing for the Press the text of the poems of Plautus.[162] Thomas Murner received, in 1514, for his Geuchmatt four guldens,[163]—a sum which, as Schurmann points out, was not so inconsiderable, when we remember that the scholar Pellican had been able to support himself for a year on sixteen guldens.

The jurist, Ulrich Zasius, received, in 1526, from his publisher in Basel for his Intellectus Juris Singulares, fifty guldens. Conrad Gesner, writing from Lausanne in 1539, complains that he has not been able to put as thorough work into his books as they deserved, because, he says, “I am, like others of my class, under the necessity of writing for daily bread.”[164] A remark of Gesner, in 1558, that the publishers wanted big books, and were unwilling to accept small volumes even as a gift, is of interest as indicating that, even at that early period, the book-trade of the Continent had behind it an experience by the lessons of which it could profit.

The relatively large prices paid as compensation for the literary undertakings referred to in the earlier records, are evidence that for these undertakings the initiative had been on the part of the publishers. In the cases in which the literary suggestion came from the authors, the compensation was usually materially smaller, or, in case the venture did not prove remunerative, often disappeared altogether. The question of the proper rate or extent of the compensation to authors, was of necessity further complicated by the growth of the exchange system, before referred to. When the publisher, out of an edition of a thousand copies had disposed of five or six hundred, and had received pay for the same in miscellaneous stock, a large portion of which might remain in his warehouse for years, it was certainly not easy to determine what portion of the edition ought properly to be considered as having been sold, and to be so accounted for.

The custom soon arose of putting the author’s compensation into the shape of books. Sometimes he would receive a certain number of copies of his own work only, and sometimes, in addition, a selection of the books against which his own had been exchanged. In the smaller number of cases only was the author able to arrange for a portion at least of his pay in money.[165]

The free copies of his book which came to the author were, however, not infrequently utilised as a means of securing cash receipts. These were the copies reserved for the patron who had “graciously accepted” the dedication of the book. The dedications were too often not simple expressions of personal friendship or of scholarly appreciation, but fulsome laudations and exaggerated flatteries, which were meant to be paid for in hard cash.

Kapp, in decrying this business of selling dedications or of printing dedications, associates it directly with the demoralising practice of accepting honorariums from publishers.[166] He fails, however, to draw the inference, which appears to be a natural one, that after two centuries of publishing (of printed books) the labours of the writers of the books were so inadequately remunerated that they were driven to emulate Martial and his associates of the later Augustan age and to look to patrons (bribed with dedications) for a payment for their productions.

The real difficulty, as Schurmann points out, lay in the necessitous and uncertain position of the scholarly classes, who were driven to put more labour into the writing of books than the community of the time was prepared to compensate.

Erasmus treated with indifference the charge of von Hutten that he made his dedications a subject of trade, and he probably had sufficient warrant for his indifference. In the case of not a few of the works of Erasmus, as with many other books of the time, it seems evident that in exchange for the dedication, the “patron” of literature had provided in exchange for the compliment the funds requisite for the printing of the book, or sometimes even for the support of the author while it was being written. It occasionally happened (though probably never with any books of Erasmus) that the “patron” failed to receive the full consideration for his services, as there are instances of books in which the author’s dedication appears only in the author’s “free copies,” or even only in the portion of the author’s supply which was to be delivered to the patron. For other copies of his supply the author might arrange with some other patron for a dedication, while in the copies left in the hands of the publisher, still a third dedication might be used, the earnings of which last had, under the agreement, been reserved by the publisher.[167]

According to Kirchhoff[168] and Kapp[169] this business of selling dedications had by the beginning of the seventeenth century reached very large proportions. The Magistracy of the city of Leipzig made announcement, in 1594, that they would authorise no more dedications, having been altogether overburdened with them. In 1606, when the philologist Goldast asked permission of the Burgomaster of Memmingen to dedicate to him a new Commentary, he was cautioned that he would have to content himself with an honorarium of a ducat, as the magistrates of that place were receiving each day similar applications.

As late as 1798, the Senate of Hamburg gave notice that future dedications of literary productions would no longer receive acknowledgment unless written authorisations for the same had been previously secured. An instance occurred in 1887, in which this regulation concerning a written authorisation was relied upon with some literalness of interpretation. A musical composition had been dedicated to the “Shade” of the composer Hummel, on the fiftieth anniversary of his death. A notice was issued by the poet Castelli, on behalf of the Hummel family, that this dedication must be withdrawn unless a written authorisation could be shown from the “Shade” of the departed composer.

According to Kapp, the practice of authors undertaking the publication of their works at their own risk and expense (selbst-verlag) developed during the same period as the dedication system, and together with the latter, came in great part to a close towards the end of the eighteenth century. Trade difficulties arose in connection with the handling by the authors of the editions of their own books, as it became necessary for them to follow the general trade practice of the time and to accept their payment or a portion of their payment in the stock of the dealers to whom they made sales. Feeling, however, in no way bound by the regulations of the book-trade, they were ready to sell this exchange stock at prices often considerably below those of the regular book-market, a practice which naturally produced confusion and dissatisfaction among the dealers. In this practice the authors of Germany enjoyed a much greater freedom of action than was possessed at the time by their brethren in France, where the organised book-dealers had succeeded in limiting to members of their own body the right to sell books.

How far the protests of the book-trade may have succeeded in checking this practice on the part of the authors of entering into bookselling business without being willing to submit themselves to bookselling regulations, it is not easy to determine from the records available. It is probable, however, that the most effective check was the disappointing results secured by the authors themselves from by far the larger portion of their publishing and bookselling ventures.

Towards the end of the eighteenth century the method of subscription publishing, which apparently had originated in England, began to be followed, particularly in the case of books issued directly by their authors. Under this method, subscriptions and advance payments were secured from subscribers interested in the undertaking and willing to purchase one or more copies, and the moneys so advanced were expected to be utilised in the production of the book, and were as a rule so applied. Even publishers found this subscription method a convenience and an advantage in diminishing the risk of the speculation in an undertaking of importance. In the case, however, of books issued by publishers on the subscription plan, it was not usual to receive any money from the subscribers until the books were delivered.