The Whispering Gallery, Part I [pp. 174-177]

THE WHISPERING GALLERY
memories. It occurred to him that it would be a graceful thing to present the remaining copy to her, which accordingly he did. She read the book with interest; but as
their friendship never had ripened into, etc., it had no sacred character for her. She
lent it to her sister, and her sister lent it to a neighbor, and the neighbor lent it to a
cousin, and the cousin lent it to another cousin, and that cousin lent it to her sweetheart, and he lost it. Then the original recipient wrote to the author and told him, with
an air of triumph, how much she had done to spread his fame, and how many persons
had enjoyed his book.'All of which,' said he to himself, as he folded up her letter,
'means that six persons who should have bought my book, if they cared to read it,
haveLhad the reading without cost to them and without profit to me.'"
"But perhaps not one of them would ever have bought the book, or even heard of
it," suggested Miss Ravaline.
"'Perhaps so," said Elacott; "but even then the author would have been no poorer
in pocket, and he would not have the humiliating consciousness of having been sponged.
However, that is only the first stage of the evolutionary process that ends in our great
free libraries. One of the six persons who read the free copy was a wealthy lady who
had a strong taste for literature but could not afford to spend fifty cents for a book. As
no more happened to come along that she could read for nothing, she set her wits at work
to devise means by which she could have the privilege of reading for next to nothing.
The result was the invention of the book club -a very neat scheme for enjoying an
author's work and diminishing his profits. If twenty-five persons wish to read a halfdollar book, by forming a club they can buy one copy and pass it around, at a cost of two
cents to each."
"Again let me suggest," said Miss Ravaline, "that some of those persons probably
would not care enough for the book to pay the full price - would not care to own it
and some others could not afford to buy it, however they might wish it."
"Those whose desire to read it does not rise above the value of two cents might as
well let it alone," said Elacott. "As for those who could not afford, I will consider them
presently, when I come to the question of affording. Let us make a liberal discount for
all these say sixty per cent. We then have left, out of the twenty-five, ten who might
have been purchasers in the ordinary way. Thus you see the book club has cheated the
author out of a sale of nine copies."
"I doubt," said I, "if your discount, liberal as it appears, is large enough. The
books purchased by such clubs are mainly of the kind that few would care to own."
"Still," said Elacott, "there must be some saving in it, or the club would not exist.
If it is only a buying of one copy instead of two, the transaction (as I look upon it) is
hardly fair treatment of author and publisher. But your remark about the character of
the books opens up another argument. If it is true - and I presume it is -it proves a
much more serious wrong than any diminishing of legitimate profits. For money and
time for reading are both limited; and whatever tends to concentrate them upon the
books that are not worth owning, may be construed as a wrong to the writers and publishers of the nobler books that are worth owning, as well as a misleading of the readers
themselves."
"That certainly is worth considering," said I. "And yet it appears to me that even
this argument is not flawless. To make a perfect one, we should have to begin by classifying the reader which of course we can do only approximately. There are the readers who will not read anything in which they can not find solid intellectual profit. They,
175