CYCLE PATENTS AND INVENTORS.
The ever ubiquitous Yankee inventor fell upon an inexhaustible mine
when he tapped the virgin soil of cycledom, and his English brother
has not been much less fortunate; in fact, it is questionable whether
Jonathan has been able to keep the start of Brother Bull in this
matter, with three thousand patents on record in the American office
against three thousand five hundred provisional in the English,
thirteen hundred and twenty of the latter being sealed, up to March,
1889. Few fields of invention have ever developed so rapidly and
interested so many inventors with as little apparent advance to the
casual observer. As I have stated in a former chapter, the advance has
been a sort of evolution, creditable to those who work the changes, yet
with little chance at any time for what is termed a broad patent. When
the saddle was raised up over the cranks and the front wheel enlarged,
a great stride forward in the art was made, yet it is questionable
whether such changes afforded sufficient ground for strong patent
claims; twenty years ago they certainly would not have done so, with
the feeling and usual action of the patent authorities and general
stupidity of patent attorneys at that time. Mere changes in the sizes
of wheels would stand a much better chance of being patentable now
than some time ago. We have, in fact, a patent now existing, given out
to an Englishman, on the Safety rear-driving pattern of machine, in
which the proportional diameter of the wheels is pretty well claimed.
How this patent was wedged into the American office is somewhat
remarkable; if it could be held valid, makers of rear-drivers with a
front wheel as large or larger than the rear would find it warm work to
continue. Fitting cranks upon the drive-wheel would, with modern patent
attorneys, have afforded a broad field for good claims, but it did not
seem to in Lallement’s time, seeing the kind he got. The rubber tire,
in spite of the fact that it was perhaps the greatest element of all
in making a cycle a practical roadster, was so old in other relations
that the U. S. patent of Serrel, No. 87,713, afforded no protection
to the inventor; but even if it had been used on the wheels of some
machines within the knowledge of the Patent Office, which could be
used as a reference, a good attorney would now hardly abandon a claim
for its use in a cycle on that account. The claim to the hollow or
tubular construction of frame,[8] though ingenious, was laughed at by
good patent experts; it was the one thing that was old and by right
absolutely unpatentable. Yet the attempt to hold it had at one time
better prospects of being successful than any other in connection with
the great principles in modern cycles; unless the mud-guard should
be considered a great principle. The ball-bearings were broadly old,
as shown in the American office; still, very good patents have been
obtained upon them, sufficient to cause several famous law-suits. There
was some good ground for these patents, but I doubt if any better than
was found in the case of the rubber tire, the large drive-wheel, or,
particularly, the step for mounting the ordinary bicycle, and possibly
no better than was found in the tubular construction.
The American Patent Office and the courts more recently take the view
that if a man has really done something in the art they will give him a
patent. This is absolutely necessary under existing circumstances, as
it is almost impossible, with the enormous number of patents that have
been issued, to invent anything upon which the Office cannot find some
sort of reference, and for this reason it is proper that the evidence
of invention should rest largely on the fact of general success and
value in the market. The courts are liable to ask, “Why, if a certain
invention is so old and obvious and in such great demand, was it not
used before?”
The Patent Offices, both in America and in England, have become so
utterly clogged with cycle patents that it takes great ingenuity to
get in anything that is broadly new. The patents are necessarily on
some detail of construction, except perhaps in the open field afforded
by the innovation of the rear-driver, just as there has been some
attempt to improve upon the “Rothigiesser system,” in which a German
inventor claims to ride “hands-off”, as spoken of elsewhere. There
is also a good opening in tandem bicycles and tricycles, and in the
anti-vibration element of the rear-driver, but the field is rapidly
closing in.
THE CYCLE INVENTOR.
Close upon the question of patents comes the idea of the cycle
inventor. It is not my desire to in any way curtail the income of
the respective governments of the world, or to embarrass the Patent
Offices thereof, by causing a lack of new applications, but the cycle
inventor, as well as inventors in other departments, might profit by
a little advice from a personal stand-point. A glance at the numerous
samples of patents illustrated in this book, and a thought of the total
number issued, should be enough to convince any fair-minded reader
that many useless fees are yearly dropped into the patent-slot at both
the American and English offices. This fact, together with an extended
experience in other departments of invention and a limited turn at the
gridiron upon which the cycle inventor is grilled, has caused a few
facts appertaining to inventors and patents to dawn upon me, which
I now propose to inflict upon the reader. These things are not the
discovery of a sore-head; they are related by one who has to thank
the patent department of his country for all of his worldly financial
success.
If you think of a good thing in cycles, don’t rush off to the Patent
Office all at once; just stop a little, there is no hurry, and do
this. Draw off a good sketch of the thing, put a date upon it at once,
and explain it to one or two trustworthy friends and have them sign
the sketch as witnesses. Get this done, and then breathe a little
while. Next, write out this question in large bold letters,—Do I want
to go into the cycle business? After cool deliberation, taking into
account your capacity, your wealth, your family, present occupation,
and prospects, if you can answer in the affirmative, then you may be
bolder. If your answer is nay, then go very cautiously. In any case,
be sure you do this next. Send the sketch and about ten dollars to a
first-class patent-attorney, with instructions to make a five-dollar
preliminary examination and to spend the other five dollars in copies
of patents nearest allied to your invention, and insist that the
attorney sends these copies to you. Either in the English or American
office you should be able to get them at twenty-five cents each, and
for less if you order a quantity. If you have any knowledge of the
art, you ought to be as good a judge as the attorney whether these
patents anticipate your own or not; but whatever you do, don’t take
out a patent simply because one can be had. Study calmly and lucidly
whether your thing is of any account or not, and practically try it, if
possible. If you conclude to take out a patent, be sure and employ a
good attorney, being particularly wary of the low-priced men. Not that
I would say to always employ the old attorneys of great reputation,
because a young practitioner, if unusually bright, will perhaps make up
in extra time spent upon the case what he lacks in astuteness of snap
judgment.
Beware of the “no patent, no pay” fellows. It costs just as much to
find out that the office will not grant the patent as to find out that
it will, unless a careful preliminary settles the case definitely. You
can be assured that if the invention is promising it will ultimately,
in all probability, have to stand the scrutiny of a court before
it will be of any great value. If you do not intend to go into the
manufacture of your invention, a good plan is to offer it to a reliable
man already in the business before you go into any expense at all;
of course, taking the precaution of having your sketch witnessed, as
before advised. Very few manufacturers in the cycle or any other line
are the notorious patent thieves they are commonly supposed to be;
especially are they loath to take advantage of a confiding inventor who
has no patent. Of course, if you have taken out a patent, and pretend
by virtue thereof to assert that you are protected, you make yourself
a legitimate prey if your patent happens to be invalid, which it often
is even when the invention deserves the most rigid protection. There
are, in all, over five thousand patents in the world in connection with
the cycle art, many of which are sound. Think of this before you divert
your mind from your legitimate business. It seems hard to the general
would-be inventor to say it, but I believe that the proper persons to
spend their time and talents in the invention of cycles are the persons
employed by the manufacturers for that purpose. In trusting to the
judgment of the manufacturer in regard to any idea you may have, if you
keep your sketch and a copy of your correspondence, it will be powerful
evidence against him if he plays false with you and goes into a fight
for priority of invention. Almost any manufacturer will answer a letter
about a new idea in his own line, and if he decides against you he
will generally give his reasons, from which you can judge whether it
will pay you to go ahead or not. This advice may seem to encourage a
great risk to the inventor, but I give it from the experience on both
sides of the fence. Inventors will say that they get no attention
from manufacturers; this, when true, is almost invariably because the
alleged invention is absolutely unworthy of any attention at all,
though of course all inquiries should receive courteous answers.
The real inventor is a very nice fellow, but the chronic inventor is
generally a bore. Take notice, my dear reader, of one fact, how few
of the great inventions were the work of chronic inventors. I do not
refer to men who have simply taken out a number of patents in their own
particular line: one of the best cures for chronic inventorism is to
resolve to confine yourself to one line; the next best cure being to
firmly conclude never to take out a second patent until the first has
paid you something, or has done you some good in some way. The great
inventors are those who stick to one thing until success is attained or
absolute failure fully demonstrated. Why, now, this anathema against
the chronic inventor? It is this: the chronic inventor is lazy; you
say he will stay up at night, work all day, and never sleep; well, let
him, all except the work; this element is supposititious. It is _not_
work, and here is just where the trouble comes in,—the chronic inventor
stops just where the work begins. It is fun to invent, and it only
takes a little practice to be able to accomplish it; it is as easy as
“castle-building,” but when you come to build the real castle, out of
good hard stone and grimy mortar,—“ay, there’s the rub!”
The men who have really done something to the benefit of the world, are
those who have reduced their inventions (or those of some one else) to
practice and brought them before the people. A great invention which
has never gotten beyond the confines of the brain that evolved it might
as well never have been evolved at all. Nor is it any better that a
pasteboard model lies moulding in the garret; and, strange as it may
appear, a record of the same in the Patent Office does not help matters
much. See the number of patents, many of which are good, lying in the
files at the Patent Office,—neglected and forgotten by everybody except
the examiner, who persistently uses them as ammunition against the
real benefactor of mankind who, though subsequent, would like to do
something with them.
Before my early entrance into the arena of invention, I had a suspicion
that some of the work of benefiting mankind, if so high a title be
justifiable, consisted in getting an invention into practical and
useful form for general use. I also had some premonition that it
would require a portion of the ingenuity to get the pay for it at the
hands of the populace. In this connection a diverting amusement was
discovered in the way of apportioning the ingenuity to the different
departments of the required work. My original scale was as follows:
One-half of the ingenuity to inventing the thing, one-fourth to getting
up the tools and making same, and one-fourth to placing upon the market
and gathering in the returns.
After a little experience the schedule was remodelled, making one-third
to each section. Later on, the entire schedule underwent a most
decided and radical change. It stands now as follows:
_Scale of proportional genius required for each department in
benefiting mankind (and yourself) by means of invention_: Two per
cent., inventing; seven per cent., getting into shape; three per
cent., getting American patent; one-hundredth of one per cent.,
getting English patent; ten per cent., getting patent through
court; twenty-eight per cent., getting the money; forty-nine and
ninety-nine-hundredths per cent., keeping it after you get it.
[8] Pickering, March 30, 1869, No. 88507.