Chapter 20

There were four others the titles of which I do not recall; but the two mentioned made an impression on my mind, because I had read the first one only a short time before; and knew it to be a perfectly pure story. The second one happened to have been written by an acquaintance of mine, J. D. Jerrold Kelly, now a commander in the United States Navy. If he ever reads this article he will probably be informed for the first time that he is accused of having written an immoral story. The funny part of the incident was that the letter in question closed with the following: "I will admit that I have not read any of these books. I would not soil my mind by reading them; but I think the titles are quite sufficient to lead many a weak-minded person astray." I leave the reader to draw his own conclusions.

I said that the bookseller does not necessarily come into contact with author or publisher in the building of a book. He is, however, frequently called upon by authors of the class that might be termed unsuccessful. These want his help. One came to me with a proposition that I take five thousand copies of a book he had written. "It's a wonderful book," he said. "Nothing like it has been written; and it's bound to make a great stir. It will revolutionize society completely. All it needs is for you to 'push' the sale." When I asked to see the book, he said it was not published yet. "I am looking for a publisher; and will let you see a copy as soon as it is ready. But," he added, "if you would give me your order now it would be a great help in securing a publisher." It is scarcely necessary for me to add that I did not feel called upon to help him to the extent of ordering five thousand copies of the book without seeing it, even if society had to remain unrevolutionized for a while longer. I never saw the author again; nor have I heard of the book. Now many books must have been written for which no publisher could be found! The pity is that so many have found publishers--a statement with which I feel sure publishers and booksellers alike will agree.

A year or two ago I was asked by a friend to give some advice to a lady who had written a book. She did not take my advice, however, when I gave it--I hardly expected that she would. In fact, she went directly contrary to it, and practically published the book herself. Later she came to me with the proposition that I take her book and "push" it as the Century Dictionary and Encyclopedia was being pushed; she was sure it would have a large sale, if only I would advertise it in the same way that these other books were being advertised--full pages in the daily papers. The retail price of her book was, I believe, one dollar. These are but two instances; I could mention many more equally ridiculous. How that word "push" does grate on my ears! It will put me in a bad humor about as quickly as anything I can recall.

My first experience in the book business was on Nassau Street, then one of the great book streets of New York City, if not the greatest. One morning shortly after the store opened an elderly couple from the country came in--the man evidently interested in books; but the woman not at all. While he was looking over the counters she remained well in the centre of the main aisle, a short distance behind him. Presently he came to a counter on which there was a placard: "Books fifty cents each." By some mistake an expensive volume had been laid with these second-hand books. The man picked it up and began leafing it over. Then turning to the woman he said, "That's cheap at fifty cents." "What's it good for?" was her query. "I wouldn't spend fifty cents for it." Then I heard him say, "That's worth more than fifty cents. If that's the price I'll buy it." "Young man, what's the price of this book?" This last to me. I told him, "Nine dollars." The look he gave the woman was not unkindly, but it spoke volumes. He knew a thing or two about books; he was thoroughly conscious of his superiority over her, when it came to their value.

During the last thirty years a magnificent work has been done in suppressing and destroying the filthy literature that was almost openly sold in the streets of many of our largest cities. Too much credit cannot be given the society that took the matter in hand. I believe that nearly every dealer to-day aims to keep his stock free from demoralizing books; but in the nature of things the line of demarcation cannot be drawn with entire satisfaction to all. About twenty years ago an itinerant dealer was arrested in a New Jersey town for selling a certain book. I was present at the trial, which was somewhat farcical. The defendant had gathered together a large number of catalogues to show that the book had been sold by the most reputable dealers in the country; and that it was included in the catalogues of most of the public libraries. But the judge would not allow this as evidence. He took the stand that the whole question rested upon the book itself. It did not matter what the rest of the world thought of the book; they were there to judge whether or not it was immoral. (The penalty for selling an immoral book in New Jersey was, I think, at least one year's imprisonment.) The jury was composed of twelve yokels, eleven of them had never heard of the book, the twelfth said he had read it about twenty years earlier. As the whole thing hinged on the opinion of the jury as to its character, copies were supplied by the defendant, and the jury was sent into another room to read the book. After an hour or so they returned. All agreed that the story was not immoral, and the case was dismissed.

It would be a pleasure for me to write of the many distinguished persons with whom I have become acquainted during my career as a bookseller and buyer. But were I once to begin on the subject I fear my readers would believe me lacking in "terminal facilities." I should regret, however, to have to close this article without mention of the many delightful friendships I have formed with authors, customers, and publishers. And I may add, with the men who sell to me--whom, almost to a man, I have found thoroughly conscientious. These are pleasant features that go a long way toward compensating one for being in a business, the profits of which, at the best, are small as compared with those of other lines of trade.

SELLING BY SUBSCRIPTION

By Charles S. Olcott.

The business of selling books may be divided, in a general way, into two divisions, one seeking to bring the people to the books, the other aiming to take the books to the people. The first operates through the retail book stores, news-stands, department stores, and the like. The other employs agents, or advertises in the newspapers or magazines, to secure orders or "subscriptions," on receipt of which the books are delivered. The latter method of selling has become known as the "Subscription-book" business.

The agent usually calls at the office or home of his prospective customer and shows samples of the text pages, illustrations, bindings, etc., bound together in a form known as a "prospectus." Sometimes he exhibits a number of different prospectuses. The customer signs an order blank, which the agent turns over to the publisher, who makes the delivery and collects the money. To cover the entire country, the large publisher establishes branch offices in many different cities or sells his books to so-called "general agents," who secure their own canvassers.

It may be asked, why does such a method exist? Do not people know enough to go to the book stores and ask for what they want? And why go to a man and urge him to buy a book he does not want? The answer goes deep into human nature. People have to be urged to take very many things which they know they ought to have. The small boy knows he ought to go to school, but has to be coaxed. Parents know he ought to go, but compulsory education laws have been found necessary in many states. The churches are good, but people sometimes need urging even to go there. Life insurance, honestly conducted, is one of the greatest blessings a man can buy with money, but the principal expenditures of the great companies are the vast sums spent in pleading with the people to take advantage of it.

Experience has proved this to be true of books. Men and women must be employed to show the people their value. The latest novel, if popular and well advertised, will sell fairly well in the retail store, but an encyclopædia, or any extensive set of books, must be taken directly to the people and explained by competent salesmen if the publishers hope to pay the cost of the plates within a lifetime. This is strikingly illustrated in the case of the "Encyclopædia Britannica." The sales in England of the original ninth edition were less than ten thousand sets. In America, where subscription methods were adopted from the first, and in England, after some enterprising American subscription-book men took it in hand, the sales may be fairly estimated at something like one hundred and fifty thousand sets.

Twenty or thirty years ago, by far the most common form of subscription book was the variety labelled "Manual of Business," or the "Complete Farm Cyclopedia," or the "Road to Heaven." The publisher did not advertise for customers but for agents. The books were sold directly to the agent, and he in turn delivered them to his customers and collected the money. Anybody out of employment could take up the business. The aim was to get as many agents as possible and sell them the books. The agent canvassed with a "prospectus" after committing to memory his little story. The subscribers signed their names in the back of the prospectus. Sometimes the young and inexperienced agent ordered as many copies as he had signatures or more. Woe unto him if he did, for oftentimes they would not "deliver." Many years ago I remember calling at a modest little home in the Middle West. While waiting in the parlor, I noticed how peculiarly it was furnished. Every corner of the little square room contained a monument of symmetrical design, all different, but each some three or four feet high, and all built of books, as a child might build a fairy castle out of his wooden blocks. A closer inspection showed that all the volumes were copies of the same book bound in "half morocco"! The explanation came later when I was incidentally informed that "Willie had tried canvassing, but most of 'em backed out."

This reminds one of the remark of Thoreau when, four years after the publication of his first book (at the author's expense), the publisher compelled him to remove 706 unsold copies out of the edition of 1000, and he had them all carted to his home. "I now have," he said, "a library of nearly 900 volumes, over 700 of which I wrote myself." It is an interesting fact in this connection that the successors of that publisher are to-day, fifty years later, successfully selling by subscription an edition of Thoreau's writings in 20 volumes, the set in the cheapest style of binding costing $100.

Among the famous books sold by this method have been Blaine's "Twenty Years in Congress," Stanley's "In Darkest Africa," and Grant's "Memoirs." The handsome fortune which the publishers of the latter were enabled to pay to Mrs. Grant was made possible only by the application of the subscription method of reaching the people.

Another form of subscription book, now fortunately obsolete, was the book in "parts." A "part" consisted of some twenty-four or forty-eight pages, or more, in paper covers. These were delivered and paid for by the buyer in instalments of one or two at a time until the entire work was complete. Then the binding order was solicited. It was an expensive and unsatisfactory makeshift, intended to reach those who could pay only a dollar or two a month. The theory was that the people could not be trusted, and therefore the book must be cut up and delivered in pieces. Later the publishers learned that "most people are honest," and the modern method is to deliver the complete publication and collect the price in monthly instalments. This plan has proved far more economical both to subscribers and publishers, and the losses are few if the management is careful and conservative. One house which carefully scrutinizes its orders has suffered losses of less than one per cent on a business of several millions of dollars covering a period of fifteen years.

In late years by far the greatest part of the subscription-book business has been done with complete sets of books, usually the writings of the leading standard authors. These books are sold directly to the subscriber who gives a signed order, and the publisher makes the delivery, pays the agent a cash commission, and collects the payments as they fall due. The old, worthless, "made-up" books are rapidly disappearing, and the subscription-book of to-day is as a rule a vastly superior article to that of a score of years ago. In fact some of the oldest and most reliable publishing houses in America now offer their choicest output by subscription. A large investment of capital in plates, illustrations, editorial work, etc., such as is necessary in many of the extensive editions of standard works, could not be made unless there, were an assured return. The subscription method of selling makes such undertakings possible, and the result of its adoption has been the issue of many superb publications which never would or could have been undertaken, had the retail book store been the only outlet to the market. The subscription business has in this way proved a marked benefit to the lovers of fine editions of their favorite authors. The book-lover has been benefited, too, in the matter of prices. The agent's commission under the modern methods is no greater than the bookseller's profit, and no extraordinary allowance is made for losses, as many imagine, for the losses are comparatively small. The desire to extend his business leads the publisher to make his books more attractive, while there is plenty of competition to keep the prices down. It is a fact that the buyer is to-day getting a far better book for his money than ever before.

The personnel of the canvassing force has also undergone a change. A business such as the best houses are now doing requires agents of intelligence, tact, and judgment. The callow youth cannot succeed as he did once. The man who has failed at everything else will fail here. There are now men and women engaged in selling books by subscription, who possess business ability of a high order. Many of them have well-established lines of trade,--regular customers who depend upon them to supply their wants and keep them informed. The old jibes about the book-agent fall flat when applied to them. They do not bore their customers or tire them out. They serve them, and the customers are glad to be served by them.

I have taken care to point out that these observations apply to the business as conducted by the older and more conservative book publishers, who value their reputation. In a consideration of the subject a sharp distinction should be drawn between such publishers and a class of irresponsible schemers who by various ingenious devices seek to gain the public ear and then proceed to impose upon their victims to the full extent of their credulity. In recent years many schemes have been devised,--a few honest, some about half honest, and the rest miserable "fakes."

One of the earliest and most successful "schemes," not dishonest but certainly ingenious, was that of a publisher who had a large stock of unmarketable books whose retail price was $6 a volume. He organized an association and sold memberships at $10, the membership entitling the subscriber to one of the $6 books and the privilege of buying miscellaneous books at a discount. The discounts really were no greater than could have been obtained in any department store, but the "association" thought it had a great concession and multiplied so rapidly that the unmarketable book had to be reprinted again and again.

The next "scheme" to come into prominence was the so-called "raised contract." The process was simple. The order blank read, for example, $5 a volume, but the publisher wanted "a few influential citizens like yourself" to write testimonials, and had a few copies for sale to such people--only a very few--at $3, merely the cost of the paper and binding. By paying cash you could get another reduction, and as a special favor from the agent still another, and so on, until you found the price whittled down to the ridiculously low sum of $2.65. When the customer woke up and found that all his neighbors were also "influential citizens" who had bought at the same price or possibly less, and that the book would be dear at $2, he mentally resolved to "buy no more from that house." The figures are given merely to illustrate the idea and are not quoted from any particular proposition. It is unfortunately true, however, that the plan here illustrated is now in daily use by many concerns, although there are indications that it is gradually dying as the result of overwork!

Another scheme is to advertise a "a few slightly damaged" copies of a book for sale at barely the cost of the sheets--to save rebinding. A publisher once confided to me that he was doing a "land-office business" selling "slightly damaged stock." "How do you damage the stock," I asked,--"throw the books across the room?" "No," he replied, laughing, "we haven't time to do that."

Some of the schemes are so ludicrous as to cause one to wonder how anybody can be made to believe the story. Such was the one which soberly informed the prospective customer that he had been selected by a committee of Congress as one of a few representative citizens to whom the United States government would be willing to sell some of its precious documents. He was not asked to subscribe, but merely to "let us know" if he didn't want it, for "another gentleman" was quite anxious to secure his copy, etc. Of course the fortunate representative citizen made haste to secure the copy which Congress intended him to have. I am told that the originator of this scheme made a fortune out of it.

All these schemes, from the laughably absurd to the contemptibly mean, should be regarded merely as an excrescence upon the legitimate subscription-book business. They are like the "get-rich-quick" and "wildcat" banking schemes which flourish in prosperous times, but have nothing whatever in common with legitimate financial affairs. It is unfortunate for the book trade that these schemers selected books as the particular kind of merchandise upon which to exercise their ingenuity. They admit that their agents are expected not to canvass the merits of the book, but to "sell their story." They might have done the same thing had they chosen jewelry, bric-a-brac, rugs, paintings, stocks, bonds, or anything else as the subject for their exploitation. The reliable publishers are hoping that at no distant date the schemers will take up some of these other lines, although they bear no grudge against the latter.

If any prejudice exists in the public mind against subscription books, it is caused by the illegitimate use of books as a means of "fooling" if not of swindling the people. There are many honorable men and many houses of the highest class who are engaged in the subscription-book business. These should no more be classed with such schemers as I have described than Tiffany's with the diamond merchants who ornament the fronts of their stores with the three balls. The leading legal lights of the world and the gentry who frequent the police courts are all called lawyers; the eminent surgeon who performs marvellous operations involving incredible knowledge and skill and the half-breed who used to pull teeth in front of the circus, the brass band drowning the shrieks of his victims, are both called doctors. The eminent divine and his ignorant colored brother may both be preachers. Intelligent people know how to discriminate between these, and do not condemn the one for the faults of the others. And so the intelligent and honorable book agent who represents a thoroughly reliable publishing house deserves to be differentiated from the fellow who comes with a lie on his tongue, for which an unscrupulous schemer is directly responsible.

The subscription-book business, in the hands of honorable men, has performed a great service to the whole country, by putting good books into thousands and hundreds of thousands of homes, where, but for them, there would be little to read beyond the newspaper or the magazine. The best publishers have found it the most practicable method of distribution for their more extensive productions, and thousands of thoughtful men are glad of the opportunity to receive the representatives of such houses and to have the best of the new publications promptly brought to their attention.

SELLING AT AUCTION

By John Anderson, Jr.

While the auctioneer is admitted to be an important factor in the handling of a book once it has become a finished product, his relations to it are not clearly understood, even by many of those who avail themselves of his services as a medium of sale or purchase. An endeavor shall therefore be made to present here, in the simplest possible way, some facts which may prove both pertinent and enlightening.

It is to be presumed that the auctioneering of books began at the time when it first became apparent to the owners of libraries that a necessity existed for the establishment of a system by which they could reach the largest number of buyers, and bring about the quickest sales and returns, for these are, admittedly, the distinguishing features of the auction method, as opposed to all others.[4] Selling to the highest bidder proved the happy solution of the problem, and to this day it has been universally recognized as the most satisfactory method of dispersion. To quote a book as having sold for so much at auction gives it in the minds of all true bookmen the best possible criterion of value. The prices obtained, though variable, represent a consensus of opinion, and may be considered as standards.

[Footnote 4: "But it was soon perceived, that when necessity or inclination determined the disposal of libraries, the auction method was on the whole by far the best, producing as it did, and still does, competition amongst a larger circle of intending purchasers, with a better result than would have been obtained by selling _en bloc_."--JOHN LAWLER, in "Book Auctions in England in the Seventeenth Century."]