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The Sea Scorpion. It Will Revolutionize Naval Warfare. Some Account nt Torpedoes, Past and Present. When that Connecticut genius, David Bnsh- nell, invented the Torpedo a hundred years aso. it was pooh-poohed by Europe n nations as a Yankee humbug. Our own government thought little of the invention,though Bnshuell succeed ed in blowing up a schooner and destroying a on board but one man. In the beginning of the war for independence, be failed to blow up the Eagle, an English sixty-four gun-ship, in New York harbor, but it was only because the diving machine, to which was attached the torpedo, arranged to go off by clock work,missed the ves sel. It did explode at the end of an hour-tbe time arranged for the clock to go off-and with a power that would have blown the Eagle as high as a kite,had it been under her bottom. Robert Fulton-the great steam-boat inventor —next tackled the torpedo question and did his best to make the nations of the world recognize its importance in naval warfare. He declared, in his letter to Joel Burton in 1807, that steam navigation itself was not halt as important as the torpedo system of defense and attack, and affirmed that if the Government would only give means of action, he would convince the him world of the torpedo’s superiority. He took his pet invention to Europe—to France first, where he showed to the first Napoleon the agent by which he might contend with the for midable British Sea Lion. But the shrewd con queror for once was short-sighted, and Fulton, whose sympathies were elastic, took his torpe do to England and showed John Bull how he could dispense with his fleets. But the British eye could not. or would not, see it. The Ad mirals (haughty old sea dogs, glorying in the grand fleet of war vessels that made Britain mis tress of the Seas) laughed in loud scorn at the Yankee ‘gimcrack,’ which they declared coward ly and contemptible, and fit only for Chinamen and Fejee islanders. Bat Pitt, the shrewdest head in England, thought there might be some thing in it and got a committee to decide upon it, which body was composed of men knowing as little about the matter under discussion as committees usually do (those at Fairs, for in stance.) There was only one naval officer among them. It was decided to put down the torpedo at once, lest if brought in use it would, by its short cuts to victory, soon put inferior nations on a naval equality with Britain. So Fnlton, disgusted,came back to his native country where he succeeded in obtaining five thousand dollars devil after her; bar So effectually had old Com modore Rogers protected the brig with iron ports below New Orleans, no fleet could have passed those ports.’ So says Admirable Porter, in a leDgthy and able article on ‘Torpedo War fare’ in the last North American Review -(au ar ticle from which we have gathered most of the information here given about this stealthy arm of the naval service.) The Admiral is a stong advocate of the torpedo and contends that no false humanity"thould prevent its being used in war, and perhaps, since nations will fight each other,the most prompt and deadly measures had better be used in order to secure decisive results at once, and end the hostilities so inimi- cable to commerce and agriculture. Our little water scorpions succeeded in de stroying no less than twenty of the enemies’ big vessels during the war. Some of them cost over a million of dollars each—the Tecumseh for in stance, blown up with Craven and all his men and officers on board in the attack of the Feder- als upon Mobile, by a hundred pound torpedo, that did not cost a hundred dollars. Admiral Porter gives a graphic account of the destruc tion in James River of the big Commodore Jones, that, while dragging for torpedoes, light ed upon one to her sorrow, and was ‘suddenly and without any apparent cause, lifted up bod ily, her wheels rapidly revolving in the air, till persons declared they could see the green grass of the river bank beneath her keel. An im mense fountain of foaming wat.9r shot to a great height, followed by a denser column thick with mud. The vessel absolutely crumbled to pieces, dissolved, as it were, in mid air, enveloped by the falling spray, mud, water and smoke. When the excitement of the explosion subsided, not a vestige of the vessel remained in sight, except small fragments of her frameithat came shoot ing to the surface. Every man on board was either killed or wounded.’ That was a big result to be eff .cted by a few hundred pounds of powder contained in a tank and fired off by electricity. A yet more primi tive machine blew up the formidable iron clad, Baron Da Kalb, off Yazoo City—merely a three gallon demijohn filled with powder and ignited by a friction fuse. In the famous expedition up Red River, it was a little twenty pound tor pedo that crippled the splendid and costly iron ram, Eastport so badly she had to be blown up to prevent her falling into the hands of the Con- ‘•Toll Mr. Srcils I thank him for his kind oiler, hat I am dying ” Not two weeks ago we were called upon to record the death of Miss Sallie E. Renan, of Tennessee, who was stricken down by yellow fever a few days after she had written one of her bright, en ergetic letters to our Senior, accepting his prop osition that she should take charge of his, ‘Bovs and Girls' paper, which he was arranging to is sue regularly. About the same time came a let ter from Mrs. Boyd ^Syivia Hope), formerly re siding here in Atlanta, where she has family connections and many friends, but then resid ing in McComb City. Miss. She wrote in pro found sadness. Her husband, to whom she was tenderly attached, had died of yellow fever a few days before; death and gloom were all around her, the future seemed devoid of brightness; she had no children to live for, and yet she felt it her duty to live and to try to be of some use in the world. Though she had some money which she desired to invent, she felt that only const ant work would keep her from morbid brooding over her sorrow and loneliness, and no work would please her so well as that of speaking through her pen to the young, for whom she felt such warm sympathy. Well pleased to secure so pure and pleasant a writer for his paper, Mr. Seals wrote at once of fering her the Editorship of the ‘B jys and Girls of the South, - and telling her to come on im mediately to Atlanta. He was expecting her on every train when he opened the black-sealed let- tc r containing the sad words: ‘Sylvia Hope is no more. She fell a victim to the fatal scourge. She would remain and nurse her husband through his last illness, and after hie death, weakened by grief and fatigue, she easily fell a prey to the fever. Your letter came to her on her death bed; she would have dictat ed an answer but could not; she only said ‘Tell Mr. Seals I thank him for his kind offer, but I am dying.’ Not often has a letter cast such a gloom over a household as did this over our little commu nity of the Sunny South. We had been lookiug forward to the pleasure of having Mrs. Boyd among us, associated with us in our daily labor. Her loveliness of character, her refinement, ami ability, sprightly intelligence, and gift of rapid and graceful composition, promised much for the future. Before we saw her hert, as the love ly woman we had known her years ago as federates. Admiral Porter declares that if Mai- / bright -eyed, gifted little girl in our old alma ma spars and netting reaching to the bottom, that she proved unassailable,and the test resulted in failure. Fulton felt that he had not had fair play, but he was disheartened and abandoned his cherished system of torpedo warfare to devote himself to the discovery that has given him suoh fame—that of steam navigation. The torpedo slept until 1829, when another American inventive genius became fascinated with its possibilities. This was no other than Samuel Colt, the inventor of the revolver. A* his very first public experiment, he blew up the old gun boat. Boxer, in New York Bay, with a torpedo exploded by galvanism. Afterwards, in the presence of the Cabinet and citizens of Wash- 1 ngton, he ‘utterly destroyed a schooner off Al. exandria, Virginia, while stationed five miles from her.’ This looked like business; and Con gress voted the enterprising experimenter sev enteen thousand dollars to perfect his plans. But public opinion was against him, the human itarians got after him sharp and bitter, headed by John Quincy Adams, who denounced the pro posed system of warfare as cowardly and dis honest. Colt was classed with Guy Faukes and spoken of as a disgrace to his country—a man who would discredit the glorious traditions of the young navy. So Colt succumbed to the pressure, as Fulton had done, and set himself to manufacturing the wonderful pistol, which introduced a new era of small arms. lory and his horse-marines had shown their usu al intelligence aDd energy in resisting with their torpedoes the Federal advance up Red River, few if any of the gunboats would have es caped. No wonder Geueral Beauregard asserted concerning Charleston, that he attached more importance to one torpedo for defending the place than to five ten inoh guns. The ‘Davids’ used by the Confederates was the first practical embodiment of the idea of tor pedo boats now being brought to such perfec tion. The David (so called in allusion to the Bible story of David and Goliah) was a number of narrow ‘cigar-shaped vessels each about fifty feet long, and carrying a torpedo at the end of a boom which could be run out, lowered uud*- j a j i t*. A si v^oued t>y nSfcRssity" was the original of the perfected torpedo vessel ‘which,’ says Admiral Porter, ‘will in future decide the issues of Naval bat' ties.’ For, since our little Confederacy pepper ed them so with torpedoes during her gallant struggle for independence, the United States naval officers have paid special attention to that heretofore despised branch of sea warfare. The torpedo vessel has been successfully developed, and the sagacious Admiral, who stands at the head of the naval service, declares that a Com mander ‘may well stand aghast at the prospect of his own iron clad ship, with its monster guns, being struck unawares by one of these stealthy and effective sea-devils, bristling with out riggers and exploding tails and endowed with a speed sufficient to overtake or escape frnm fViA cfrnnnoof oU{ nn > America meddled no more for the present with the torpedo,but she had a glimpse of what might be done with it, in the Crimean war, when the Russians used it to cripple some of John Bull’s big war dogs on the Baltic. But it was not un til onr civil war broke out in 1861, that the Sea Scorpion was brought into active use as a terri ble agent of offense and defense. It was David against Goliah with onr weak little Confederacy in those days,when our powerful enemy brought her fleet of mighty iron-clads against us. Only cunning could oope with this superior force. We must act the sword fish to this whale. Invul nerable from its outside,we must dive down and strike at the bottom with the active, daring and deadly little torpedo. How we did harass our big foe in those days of daring! Harbors and navigable rivers were filled with these water dev ils, as the Yankees called them, sometimes laid in groups and fired off by eleotricity and often of more simple construction. Batteries watched them on shore, and Wilmington, Charleston! and Savannah remained sealed ports to the ene. my till near the close of the war. Our blockade ranners passed out in safety and brought back the sinews of war, but the Federal Bhips were kept at bay. Persistently and bravely, under the heavy fire of our guns, they hunted with their grappling hooks and other tackle for the infernal machines;Joften they drew them out,but steadily and stealthily they were put back by the Southern boys. Had they been used at the from the strongest ships. Faither developements of the torpedo may be ooufidt3iitly looked for,since an average of twenty young officers now graduate each year from the Torpedo School at Newport, Rhode Island, and boards of officers are constantly testing fresh torpedo inventions at Newport. There are au tomatic powder-torpedoes—forty or more in number, and others charged with gun cotton and dynamite and fired by electricity. The fa mous fish torpedo, Whitehead, a clever im provement on our Confederate David, is cigar shaped and discharged from vessels. It is pro pelled by an engine using compressed air. Sometimes it fails, as our Davids used to do, and Admiral Porter gives a funny instance of ‘Whitehead’ which a British man-of-war dis charged against a Peruvian iron-clad—the Hu- ascan. The latter dexterously dodged the com pliment, and the torpedo ran into an harbor near by, where, having expended its compressed air, it rested quietly along side a Dutch mer chantman at anchor. ‘The Dutch Captain, sup posing it was a big fish, got out his fishing tackle and was disgusted at not getting a bite. ’ • ter institute at Thomasviile, Ga. We had seen the gradaal unfolding of her intellect, the deep ening and widening of her range of thought and aympathy and experience, destined to make her one of the best writers of our country. The readers of the Sunny South remember her pleas ant stories. In the first year of that paper’s ex istence she wrote for it regularly. Afterwards, she was possessed with the ‘noble discontent’ with her own work which is the earnest of high, er effort; and having leisure she set herself to study. She was also engaged in writing a book, and occasionally she wrote for Northern peri odicals in order to extend her literary reputation before her book should appear. She wrote al. fts-ugntiui, stndi&Tffi, young (she had not yet reached the prime of life), her future was full of promise, Alas, that it is blighted by the ter rible hand that has cut down so many of the young and gifted and beautiful during this fa tal summer! Sylvia Hope was eminently fitted to make friends and to render her home and husband hap py. She had innate tact, a warm, sympathetic nature, and fine artistic tastes that made her love to surround herself with the beautiful. To show how deeply she was regretted where she had liv ed, and how useful was her life and calm her death, we subjoin this memorial, written by the friend whose letter announced the mournful tid ings of her death. . Is Slie l*ro<ligy or Plagiarist ? -The letter^ which we publish below from Mr. William Flemming, Superintendant of Pub lic Schools in Augusta, was not for pub lication, bat the matter it so fully ex plains has so moved our curiosity, that, being unable ourself to answer the question, Did she write it ?” we cannot resist the temp tation of endeavoring to solve it in the best way we know of—by submitting the question ol authorship to the many readers cf the “Sunny South.” Besides, the letter is so pleasantly written, it shows such appreciation of poetry, such interest on the part of the writer in the youDg minds of which he has charge, and such a kindly consideration for the little girl’s feel ings, that we are sure it will please others as it lias done the one to whom it is addressed; and we trust to receive pardon for having taken the liberty to put it in print. The poem sent, beau tiful as it is, yet simple enough in matter to have been written by a girl of twelve. The wonder is in the finish, the polished simplicity, the felicity of expression. It seems singular that so young a writer should attain such per fection of style, yet it is not impossible. The poem has somehow a familiar sound ; and there comes a haunting recollection of having read it in the pages of the Noctes Ambrosianae long ago, but those special volumes ^almost the best prized of any in our possession) happened to be lent j ust now. We withhold the name of the little girl for the present. If no one among our readers can “place” the lines, we will give her the credit she deserves : * My Dear Madam.—Knowing of your exten sive acquaintance with all the departments of poetic literature, I take the liberty of writing to request that jou inform me whether or not you have ever see before the exquisite verses of poetry which I enclose with this letter. The circumstances connected with this little gem are most remarkable : “The teacher of one of our public schools out in the country has been in the habit of requiring original composition from her pupils, and a few days ago a little girl of twelve or thirteen, who has enjoyed no special advantages of education and whose parents are comparatively ignorant, handed in these verses as her composition. She has been accustomed to write her little essays in verse, but this one was so remarkable that the teacher intimated to her aunt that she had copied it. She positively denied this, and claimed the verses as her own unaided production. The teacher brought the poem to me to know if I could identify it. I was charmed, but knew nothing of its origin. L showed it to quite a number of literary friends, all of whom are delighted, but no one has been able to say positively that it has ever appeared in print before, though one iady is almost sure she has seen it in a magazine. Now we are in much doubt as to whether the little girl is a plagiarrist or a genius. The poem bears un mistakable marks of high talent or rather of genius in one so young and uncultivated, and yet all the circnmstaucial evidence we can ob tain goes to prove that she wrote it. I was so much interested in the matter, that I went, in company wi h a friend, on Saturday afternoon out to her humble home, some six miles from the city. The poetess was sweeping in the yard. Upon recognizing me, and divining our purpose, she dropped her broom, and ran into the house. After considerable persuasion, we induced her to come to the door and talk to us. She avows “?'***'* ——^to.thajioehrx-wul^agaj^^h^d^no by exhausting you, not only of electricity-which is the essence of physical force—but of the more subtle, cdic fluid, which is the secret of menta power, the delicate, intangible life of thought. One of these soul-suckers, cruel as the sanguin ary bat of the tropics, will fasten upon the intel lectual being, gradually, imperceptibly; soothing you with the charm of his presence, as the vam pire soothes with his fanning wings, until before you are aware of it, you are mentally exhausted i your brain is sapped and inelastic; all its riches have gone to feed the vampire, that for months has been a parasite upon it. Such a cold and crueFvampirisra was that which George Sand practiced upon Alfred De Musset, the most giftei poet that ever enriched French literature with his songs. Young, impassioned, was he ; imaginative, full of genius, and fire, and enthusiasm, and George Sand-then a beautiful, talented and ambitious woman—coveted to possess him intellectually more than physically. » c he wanted to drink the fine, subtle wine of his genius, that it might inspire the works she might give to the world. lie was a subject she desired to study, to analyze, to probe to its deepest depths, its in most and most delicate recesses; to dip her pen in all the warm, rich colors of his nature, though she must pierce his heart to reach them. The history of their intercourse is w -own ; it was all gain to her. Her cold, selfish, calculat ing nature absorbed the wealth of his own being* yielded up to her subtle searching, her keen curi osity, her cold analysis. It was a fruitful episode in her life, a fatal one to him. It furnished her with woof for many a vari- colored literary fabric ; for him it was the hot bed that forced iDto feverish growth some few splendid flowers of passionate thought, but which withered the root of his genius forever. When he returned from that fatal tour through Italy, in which he had accompanied George Sand, ‘he was,’ says his biographer, ‘sick in mind and sioul—an old, helpless man at twenty* three.’ The intellectual vampire had done its work. Swift was a vampire. He drained the soul of beautiful, devoted Stella of all its rich, delicate aroma, both of thought and feeling. He fed upon it, refreshed his jaded intellect with a nature rarer than his, a nature which yielded up its fine reserve only through the devotion of love. That it was speedily exhausted and suffered death in life was inevitable. That Lass O’Lowrie’s. she consented, and was not all discomposed when I impressed upon her the seriousness of the affair and told her how mortified she would teel if it should at last be found out that it was written by someone else. as From her manner I cannot doubt th;-t she J IOte iL 1 am to save her rom public disgrace of plagiarism, and hence before the piece is published. I want to fini real author if she is not the one tne Can you throw any light on the subject ’ I am very much interested and hope that a new star has amsen on the poetical horrizon. .Please reply at your earliest conveniencs. I am, with great respeot, Your obedient servant, Wm. H. Flemming. The Q,narrel About its Dramatization. Charles Rsaue, who stole the plot of ‘Fair Play, from Mrs. Southworth, has dramatized Mrs, Burnett’s popular novel ‘That Lass O Lowrie’B, for prod uction on the American as well as the English stage, warning all managers not to tres pass on his stage right, under penalty of beiDg pr emptly prosecuted. And this, when Mrs. Burn ett specially reserved the right of dramatiz ing her story— and when a stage version of it, prepared by her is now being put upon the Phil adelphia boards. Mrs. Burnett’s husband hav ing addressed a letter of remonstrance toReade, he replies in a strain of mingled insolence, sophism and condescension, saying generously ! that he will allow Mrs. Burnett a fee every time ^.nerfoiyTtoibiA^nt^v. a He also people to complain of literary theft, pirates of literature as they are, which is true, though it < L°™ 6 LT ith * bad . gr&ce from Mr. Reade. Mrs Burnett’s reply to this letter is the most complete bit of quiet and keen ‘taHr... Tearless Madness.-One of the most curious tacts connected with madness is the ut- ter absence of tears amidst the insane, observes the British Medical Journal. Whatever the form of madness, tears are conspicuous by their ab sence, as much in the depression of melancho lia, or the excitement of mania, as in the utter apathy of dementia. If a patient in a lunatic asylum be discovered in tears, it will be found that it is either a patient commencing to recover, or an emotional outbreak in an epileptio who is scarcely truly insane; while actually insane pa tients appear to have lost the power of weeping; it is only returning reason whioh can once more’ unloose the fountains of their tears. Even when a iunatic is telling one in fervid language how she has been deprived of her children, or the outrages that have been perpetrated on herself her eye is never even moist. °f yeHow fever at McComb, Miss, on in il"!’ of Oct. 1878, Mrs. G. H. Boyd, known Honie* readeiS of tbe SuNNT South as Sylvia Mrs. Boyd was a devoted wife and sister, and aa earnest worker in the Episcopal Church of this place. She is deeply mourned by a large circle of friends, for she was beloved by all who came within the radius of her bright smile, and her death has left a void in our hearts. Just eighteen days previous to her death, her husband fell a victim to the dreaded fever which 18 f d 0W !L° nT j rtlng our idolizfld South into a vale t °, de l h a , nd “owning. With Christian forti tude she bore her affliction; and her bleeding broken heart was endeavoring to say: ‘Father thy will, not mine, be done,’ when she was called to join her husband on ‘the other shore.’ As in an agony of tears we bent over her life less form, we were comforted by the knowledge that it was only soulless clay whioh was so soon Mr LOVE AND L to mingle with the dust, 'and that her pure spirit had winged its flight to realms of eternal maud* to faUhfully tad" she'obeyed 'the^c!^ Beside the silver winding Wve We strayed one eve, my love -ind T We rested on one sunny spot- ?Mv U rov^ e blu ,? f °r-get-me-not. . V ove * said he. ‘this flnwnr or. bit oi quiet and keen ‘taking off’ that we have read in a long time. She hews down his soph istry with the keen blade of truth barbed with sarcasm, none the less affective, because she chances to be a country woman, of the man she so calmly uses up. Here is her letter: Washington, D. C, Mr. Charles Reade, or a KC a» 1Xt UI faith and love and constancy,” Beside the silver winding Wve‘ I strayed alone; and with a r*-«- 1 rested on the same sweet spot ’ And kissed my poor n/-»f ™° r , h . < :. lla ' i , S!liled across the sea. D«wicu across tne sen a« J?_ a y e V le flower to me As pledge of mutual constancy- Beside the silver winding Wye We 11 walk no more, my love and I This sprig of dead for-got-me-not me of that sweet spot a , t . 1 , ermo , re l,lls fl°wer shall be A pledge of love and constancy. “So live that when the summons comes to ioin To fho UI f lerSb L e carava ' 1 th **‘ moves J lo the pale ranks of shade, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death. k 1 hou go not like the quarry-slave at night B^n 8 unfi?,eH..l U ^°. u L ha !’ 8U , 8tai '' ed and soothed AbmHR The draperyof 1his couch About him and lies down to pleasant dreams.* VT „ „ Belmont. .McComb, Miss. Oct 26th, 1878. An ingenidus locksmith in this city has iu Boys — Judging by the press reports, ‘ h 9m b ? Js . of tbls f ' ee country were on theram- page last week. One boy of ten tried to wreck a train through revenge, another shot a little girl for annoying himr half a dozen committed nntfi la v, leS L°A 6 fiulcided * one choked his mother until she had a spasm, while Jesse Pomeroy the boy fiend is reported to have flayed alive a poor little white kitten that was sent him by a compassionate lady as a pet. Of the girls, we ad t0 , 8 . a 7’ tbe ar gns-eyed Press gentlemen nnl i7 ery *L l ! le that * 8 bad t0 sa y* and we find one Rem that records a bit of heroism, on the fathifiw ht . tle T «xas girl, t en years old. Her M ® 1 ! d * ca Boon * bung himself to a tree, nd the child rescued him by climbing the tree and cutting the rope. . vented a new front door look, whioh, by a clock work arrangement, becomes deaf tc the en treaties of a latch-key after 12 o’clock at night. Whenever you pass a house at 1 a. m. and see a Parana awennanoe is expected, man sleeping on the fence, yon may know that nh»™hL . ‘ distance and those of other hi. wife ha. purchased onoon toeffly ‘I toeCel^bition y invited to b ® pr080nt at at Madison, Ga.— H^n^ ath ° dl,4t Sabbath School in Madison has its anniversary oelebration on Thursday 7th inst i an nsually interesting ocoasion. Choice selections of sacred music, songs, an ap- ?^^f B t % addr ti 8 ,and ori « inaI recitations are tatom«nf d *“ th ® 1 P ro 8 ramm ® of the enter- A very large attendance is expected. Human Vampires.-Once I had a trav eler from South America to describe to me his sensations after having suffered from a visitation of the vampire. He had gone to sleep in his swinging hammock, one breezeless, sultry night • on waking next morning, he found a peculiar anguor in all his limbs; even breathing seemed a tiresome operation. An old native woman brought him his coffee, and looking at him declared he was exhausted from having his veins tapped by the blood-sucking bat of (he country. Shuddering, I thanked Providence that there were no such creatures here, and yet I am not sure that the moral vampire is not worse than the physical one. The moral vampire is human, though without humanity. When he ^.'possess a heart, he is minus brains, and vice versa. He fasten, upon you and exhausts you at one of his visits either by drenching you with talk In one weak, washy, everlasting flood • or by forcing you to talk for his entertainment sitting and looking at you, in a cor placent, often a condescending silence that acts like an irritating plaster to your patience. You talk per force. Your instinct of courtesy, as well as your nervousness forbids you sitting with folded hands and a cool stare as your visitor does. You talk and talk ransack your brain for some spark of Prsmethean fire wherewith to animate the clay before you The effort leaves you exhausted. You have con- tributed to your vampire’s enjoyment, possibly, but it has drained you of vital force, taken all the electrical crispness out of your composition, and left you limp as a paper collar in dog days. There is a subtler kind of vampire that drains Oct., 27, 1878. Dear Sir: I have just been reading your renlv to Dr. Burnett’s letter, and I see from u 7 how a little misunderstanding has arisen I dH not see Dr. Burnett’s letter bffore It was“ent Lt T can scarcely tmnk he meant to ask from what you seem to fancy. I am a young woman and an English woman, but I am not young enough to ex pect anything from my compatriots whiclf the law does not demand for me. - ne law scendingly printed in English witiTThe'™ 8 Conde ' ment on the front page that it wasd^ with™*™®' cial permission of the authorities, ’ and I wa « formed of that fact by a letter from Messrs. Warne & Co nobly accompanied by a gift of a yellow- backed copy of the book which 1 shall naturally EE.? sacredly and tenderl r a « a delicate tribute from a generous publisher to a grateful author—a publisher who even went to the godlike ength of saying that he should be glad to give lo he world any other books I might write-upon the same terms. A gentlemen of the name of Hatton, in conjunction with another of the name Matthison, wrote a play founded on the story which made of Joan Lowrie a big-boned, maudlin young woman with a semimental passion for a pretentious prig; of Anice Barholm, an entrancing creature with all the engaging jauntiness and abandon of a barmaid, and also improved the other characters m the most encouraging manner Thesa gentlemen of course paid me nothing, but' 1 was not young enough then to expect sueh romantic lavishness; and besides, I felt it was onlyfair that they should have all they could make as a re compense for writing such a play. If I had writ ten such a, play I should have expected to be re- munerated handsomely, When I read it I was so moved by—shaii we deal in glittering generalises and call them conflicting emotions?—that I wrote a long letter to you, giving y OU all the pension I rJt- nay ’ e \ en begging y° u a « aa act of gen™ \ osi y to rescue the people I am fond of from drl- mu m mfamvr i__ , liras matic infamy, and make a good play which t n k ”-r co # u,d . do if you took it inhand diJ not ask you to give me any of the proceeds of i* L d . ld "°i:‘ hln , k 0f that at a »i what I cared for was something else. After I had written the ,if ter, I thought that perhaps as the thin? Knd l spoiled already, you would not care foH^a^dht not send it. 1 wish I had now k k * and dld l“j ?hth n ret ‘ ined an illu8i °uor s e o aU UntH e now I I fancied that a man’s Right was enough for Sim notwithstanding other people’s Wrong R f fh® point is that I wish you to feel Quito af Ut tbe score of my asking you to shar« UUC f ? Me on tlla proceeds of youfplay wifh ™ 7 ^ 1 **. ° f the would only be a fine accentuatinn e * 8 * H mand what other people don't get.° f '® 78elf t0 de ‘ QftTQ DO Plcrhfa in Un — j rights in America and it Uhl ere; but to infringe on these thm ®™ 8 ® youhave ^ed , T ,, , 8 «»ese that I nrote«i t ! Ia8S here, copyrighted it h„ pr ° te8t ' * wrote iffhts h... g l . 11 , ere > reserved <.t»<» «»> l..’ .TiTuS States)- wrote my plav hero ir . — —•*»» to produce another verson I 'shill Lr “® attemp<a —as I can. You W. k defend myself of Tiurn,, fed. it, own bntalr-I—• YouWS I ■». I k." bu, did ”