MY DEAR S

-S:

II.

Washington, D. C.,

18-.

. Veni! vidi! vici! So said the great Roman, after victory. So says the engineer of the period, under similar circumstances.

It was, nevertheless, an achievement of magnitude and of difficulty. Prejudice, of deep root and of long continuance, opposed me at the outset. Conventionality, embodied in the form of a naval official, frowned darkly upon the champion of progress, your humble friend. Old ideas of economy-the crude notions of our antiquated forefathers -arose before me, like battle lines in Parisian streets, before the footsteps of Revolution. But, like Revolution, I nevertheless swept onward, bearing down prejudice, conventionality, and old ideas. Accordingly, these latter are dust, and I am jubilant.

Never shall I forget that memorable morning, when, with miniature dash-pot in one hand, and gilt-edged copy of " Mariotte's Law" in the other, I made my final effectual appeal to the Secretary of the Navy. Like an oracle I stood before him; and it is no exaggeration to say that I forced conviction upon his mind, with an energy and a righteous violence that literally withered him in his official arm chair. At first, I dwelt upon the simple principle of the cut-off. Then, incidentally, I gave him a detailed account of the life and services of James Watt. From this theme, by an easy and natural transition, I advanced to speak of myself; and, as is not usual with mankind, I made the most of the subject. I described, with scientific prolixity and minuteness, my own novel machinery, my improvements upon the clever, though crude, idea of your active, ambitious and promising mind; and into this description I introduced, with much effect, my celebrated paraphrase of a Hebrew melody, celebrating the dash-pot. Lastly, in a peroration, worthy, though I say it, of the Ciceronian age, I called upon him to submit to the eternal laws of the Universe, as illustrated in my authentic teachings. "Respect the divine law," I exclaimed, "of which I am but the humble representative! You may think to escape its power for a time, but you must surely submit to it at last. Yield,

therefore, without fruitless resistance. Do what you will, you cannot get far ahead of the old man up above. Even Isherwood, with all his gold lace and all his money, can avail you nothing. The laws of expansion operate without regard to Isherwood. I have placed his book on a cylinder-head of one of my engines, and it never made the least difference in the operation of the piston. Will you, then, be stayed on the noble road of progress by the voice of a quack and a beast, a knave and a wretch

A villain,

A cut-purse of the empire and the rule,

Who from the shelf the precious diadem stole,
And put it in his pocket?

Will you butt your head against a stone wall, because, like the man in the novel, you find it "so very satisfying"? No, you will not! Or, if a stone wall is to be butted, you will rather choose that it be the penetrable stone wall of man's ignorance, than the indomitable barrier of eternal law. You will be mindful of the sage fortitude of the pious American citizen of African descent, who said that when de Lord told him to butt a hole through a stone wall, it was his business to butt, and de Lord's business to carry him through. You will think of this, I say; and if Isherwood be powerful, you will be consoled by the reflection that all human power is weak against the power of Nature. And so, side by side with me, you will keep on butting."

-n," said the Secretary, when I thus concluded my harangue, "you are a great man. Take a chair, and let 's liquor. I shall believe in dash pots as long as I live; and you shall build us a new war ship."

"But Isherwood is my foe."

"Isherwood be."

We drank some straw-colored liquor, with our mouths, after that, and so our interview terminated.

And now the PENSACOLA is in progress of construction. The egg upon which long ago we commenced to brood, will soon break, and enable us to count our chickens-chickens of iron they will be to others, my friend-Mother Cary's chickens-but to us, chickens of gold!

"Swift fly the years, and rise th' expected morn!"

We began our work on this ship in 1858. It is now 1863. She will soon be finished, with the cut-off, and the novel machinery all complete, and I shall expect her to make such time as never was made

before, by any craft of equal size and pretension. To-day, by way of verifying Mariotte's Law, I have applied the cut-off principle to her stern, and have had the stern cut-off. The effect was rending, and I witnessed it with emotions of awe. To-morrow we shall put the stern on again. Having satisfied the Law, we must now disappoint and effectually dispose of the prophets-these latter, collected here in great numbers by the malignant Isherwood, having stated that our ship will be good for nothing without a stern. As if the erudite Drecognise stern necessity.

-n didn't

The Department recognises it, at any rate- for I have sent in my bill. All the clerks have been, for several weeks, busy in investigating the accounts: and poor creatures!—they are quite at their wits' ends. It is a comfort to think that they did'nt have far to go. As a final resort, they have procured a calculating machine. But calculating machines are vain as against dash-pots. The ship will cost $800,000 at the very least, and the Department will have to pay it.

Isherwood, I hear, suggests that such a ship ought not to cost more than $120,000, or, at furthest, more than $140,000. Strange that people will so cling to the delusions of the past. Because old-fashioned ships and engines have been built for little or nothing, is it imagined that the scientific marvels of the future are to be got without money and without price? Perish the mercenary idea-ignoble prejudice of most ignoble minds!

Indignation devours me quite.

I can no more,

D

-N.

P. S.

Several Days Later.-The great work is finished. The Ship has been tried, and a competent committee reports to the Navy Department that she is considered safe to run down the Potomac with the tide. Go Triumphe!

D.

C

III.

Rumor-ac spem fronte serenat-had often borne to my ears the musical name of D-n, the engineer. His engines, with the celebrated cut-off, had been described to me-by a pious clerk in the Navy Department-as "Chief among ten thousand, and altogether lovely." As a natural consequence, I had longed to behold a specimen of the great man's art. And now the golden opportunity had come. I was at Washington. So was the Pensacola, on board which an old friend of mine held the office of Chief Engineer. She was furnished with a D- -n engine. She would sail at nightfall. I did not hesitate. As the sun descended into the west, I descended into the grimy but goldlaced presence of my friend the Engineer.