twenty-five per cent. We have here an inversion of the usual order of
things, and it is with these facts before us that you claim to have your
monopoly extended over another thirty millions of people; in consideration
of which, our people are to grant to the authors of foreign countries a
monopoly of the privilege of supplying them with books produced abroad.
This application strikes me as unwise. It tends to produce inquiry, and
that will, probably, in its turn, lead rather to a reduction than an
extension of your privileges. Can it be supposed that when, but a few
years hence, our population shall have attained a height of fifty
millions, with a demand for books probably ten times greater than at
present, the community will be willing to continue to you a monopoly,
during forty-two years, of the right of presenting a body that is common
property, as compensation for putting it in a new suit of clothing? I
doubt it much, and would advise you, for your own good, to be content with
what you have. Aesop tells us that the dog lost his piece of meat in the
attempt to seize a shadow, and such may prove to be the case on this
occasion. So, too, may it be with the owners of patents. The discoverers
of principles receive nothing, but those who apply them enjoy a monopoly
created by law for their use. Everybody uses chloroform, but nobody pays
its discoverer. The man who taught us how to convert India rubber into
clothing has not been allowed even fame, while our courts are incessantly
occupied with the men who make the clothing. Patentees and producers of
books are incessantly pressing upon Congress with claims for enlargement
of their privileges, and are thus producing the effect of inducing an
inquiry into the validity of their claim to what they now enjoy. Be
content, my friends; do not risk the loss of a part of what you have in
the effort to obtain more."

The question is often asked: Why should a man not have the same claim to
the perpetual enjoyment of his book that his neighbor has in regard to the