From these examples, out of many which might be cited, it seems evident that during the centuries in which Greek literature was at its height, the practice of plagiarism was very general, even among authors whose originality and creative power could not be questioned. Emerson’s dictum that “man is as lazy as he dares to be” was assuredly as true two thousand years ago as at the time it was uttered.
We may further conclude that while plagiarism, when detected, called forth a certain amount of criticism and raillery, especially when the author appropriated from was still living, it did not bring upon the “appropriators” any such final condemnation as would cause them to lose caste in the literary guild or to forfeit the appreciation of the reading public. This leniency of judgment could doubtless be more safely depended upon by writers who had given evidence of their own creative powers. The acknowledged genius could say with Molière: “Je prends mon bien où je le trouve,” and such a claim would be admitted the more readily as, when a genius does to the work of another the honor of utilizing it, the material so appropriated must usually secure in its new setting a renewed vitality, a different and a larger value.
The case of a small writer venturing to appropriate from a greater one was naturally judged much more harshly, and if a literary theft was detected in a production which was submitted in open contest for public honors, the verdict was swift and severe.
An instance of such public condemnation is referred to by Vitruvius.[38] One of the Ptolemies had instituted at Alexandria some literary contests in honor of Apollo and the Muses. Aristophanes, the grammarian, who on a certain day acted as judge, gave his decision, to the surprise of the audience, in favor of a contestant whose composition had certainly not been the most able. When asked to defend his decision, he showed that the competing productions were literal copies from the works of well known writers. Thereupon the unsuccessful competitors were promptly sentenced before the tribunal as veritable robbers, and were ignominiously thrust out of the city.
“Itaque rex jussit cum his agi furti, condemnatosque cum ignominia dimisit.”
This was, however, certainly an exceptional case, as well in the clumsiness of the plagiarism as in the swiftness of the punishment. The weight of evidence is, I am inclined to believe, in favor of the view, that in the absence of any protection by law for the author’s “rights,” whether literary or commercial, in his productions, the protection by public opinion, even for living writers, was very incidental and inadequate; while it seems further probable that, especially as far as the works of dead authors were concerned, but a small proportion of the “borrowings” were ever brought to light at all or became the occasion for any criticism. Much, of course, depended upon the manner in which the appropriation was made. As Le Vayer cleverly says: “L’on peut dérober à la façon des abeilles sans faire tort à personne; mais le vol de la fourmi, qui enlève le grain entier, ne doit jamais être imité.”[39]
There is one ground for forgiving these early literary “appropriators” even of les grains entiers—namely, that by means of such transmissal by later writers of extracts borrowed from their predecessors, a good deal of valuable material has been preserved for future generations which would otherwise have been lost altogether.
In considering such examples of plagiarism as are referred to by Greek writers and the general attitude of these writers to the practice, it is safe to conclude that authors cannot depend upon retaining the literary control of their own productions and cannot be prevented from securing honor for the productions of others unless public opinion can be supplemented with an effective copyright law.
Suidas, the lexicographer, relates that Euphorion, the son of Æschylus, and himself also a writer, gave to the world as his own certain tragedies which were the work of his father, but which had not before been made known (nondum in lucem editis).[40] It does not appear that any advantage other than a brief prestige accrued to Euphorion through his unfilial plagiarism.
Such advantage was, however, more possible for the author of a drama than for the author of any other class of literature, for seats in the theatre, which had at first been free, were later sold to the spectators at a drachme (Plato’s Apology of Socrates). The drachme was equal in cash to about eighteen cents, and in purchasing power to perhaps seventy-two cents of our money. This price was, according to Barthelémi,[41] reduced by Pericles to an obolus, equal in cash value to about three cents.