Now a perpetual copyright would be quite another matter.
I would like to give her a hint. Let her strike
for a perpetual copyright on that book. There
is precedent for it. There is one book in the
world which bears the charmed life of perpetual copyright
(a fact not known to twenty people in the world).
By a hardy perversion of privilege on the part of
the lawmaking power the Bible has perpetual copyright
in Great Britain. There is no justification for
it in fairness, and no explanation of it except that
the Church is strong enough there to have its way,
right or wrong. The recent Revised Version enjoys
perpetual copyright, too—a stronger precedent,
even, than the other one.
Now, then, what is the Annex but a Revised Version
itself? Which of course it is—Lord’s
Prayer and all. With that pair of formidable
British precedents to proceed upon, what Congress of
ours—
But how short-sighted I am. Mrs. Eddy has thought
of it long ago. She thinks of everything.
She knows she has only to keep her copyright of 1902
alive through its first stage of twenty-eight years,
and perpetuity is assured. A Christian Science
Congress will reign in the Capitol then. She
probably attaches small value to the first edition
(1875). Although it was a Revelation from on
high, it was slim, lank, incomplete, padded with bales
of refuse rags, and puffs from lassoed celebrities
to fill it out, an uncreditable book, a book easily
sparable, a book not to be mentioned in the same year
with the sleek, fat, concise, compact, compressed,
and competent Annex of to-day, in its dainty flexible
covers, gilt—edges, rounded corners, twin
screw, spiral twist, compensation balance, Testament-counterfeit,
and all that; a book just born to curl up on the hymn-book-shelf
in church and look just too sweet and holy for anything.
Yes, I see now what she was copyrighting that child
for.
It is true in matters of business Mrs. Eddy thinks
of everything. She thought of an organ, to disseminate
the Truth as it was in Mrs. Eddy. Straightway
she started one—the Christian Science Journal.
It is true—in matters of business Mrs.
Eddy thinks of everything. As soon as she had
got the Christian Science Journal sufficiently in debt
to make its presence on the premises disagreeable
to her, it occurred to her to make somebody a present
of it. Which she did, along with its debts.
It was in the summer of 1889. The victim selected
was her Church —called, in those days,
The National Christian Scientist Association.
She delivered this sorrow to those lambs as a “gift”
in consideration of their “loyalty to our great
cause.”
Also—still thinking of everything—she
told them to retain Mr. Bailey in the editorship and
make Mr. Nixon publisher. We do not know what
it was she had against those men; neither do we know
whether she scored on Bailey or not, we only know
that God protected Nixon, and for that I am sincerely
glad, although I do not know Nixon and have never even
seen him.
