“In the dim meadows flecked with asphodel, I shall remember!”
It was months after this suggestion came to me that I found the context and motive of the verse. I had to wait for the rest, and take whatever came.
[Illustration: A CORNER OF THE DRAWING-ROOM.]
_Host._ This subject of suggestions, and how they come, is an interesting one. It reminds me of what the astronomers tell us of certain methods they employ. For instance, they expose, by means of telescopic action, a sensitive photographic plate to the action of light from portions of the heavens where nothing is seen. After a long exposure they look at the plate, and something may be seen that was never seen before--star, nebulæ, or perhaps a comet--something which the telescope will not reveal to the eye. As an instance of my use of this exposure plan I will mention this: some years ago I read a great deal about shipwrecks--a subject which always interests me--some accounts in the daily papers and some sea stories, such as those of Clark Russell, who is my favorite marine author, and the question came into my mind: “Is it possible that there should be any kind of shipwreck which has not been already discovered?” For days and days I exposed my mind to the influence of ideas about shipwrecks. At last a novel notion floated in upon me, and I wrote “The Remarkable Wreck of the Thomas Hyke.” I have since had another idea of an out-of-the-way shipwreck, which I think is another example of a wreck that has never occurred; but this is a variation and amplification of a wreck about which I read.
_Guest._ Has it ever happened that any of your fancies turned out to be actual fact? Truth is said to be stranger than fiction.
_Host._ In some instances just that thing has happened. In one story I had a character whose occupation was that of an analyzer of lava, specimens being sent to him from all parts of the world. In this connection a foreigner inquired of him if there were any volcanoes near Boston, to which city he was on his way. This preposterous idea was, of course, quickly dismissed in the story. But I received a letter from a scientific man in New England who thought I would like to know that, not far from Boston, but in a spot now covered by the ocean, there existed in prehistoric times an active volcano. As to the practical application of some of my fanciful inventions, I may say that two young ladies on Cape Cod imitated the example of Mrs. Leeks and Mrs. Aleshine, and having put on life preservers, and each taking an oar, found no difficulty in sweeping themselves through the water, after the fashion of the two good women in the story. I will also say that the Negative Gravity machine is nothing but a condensed balloon. As soon as a man can make a balloon which can bear his weight and can also be put in a money belt, he can do all the things that the man in the story did. I may also say that naval men have written to me stating that it is not impossible that some of the contrivances mentioned in “The Great War Syndicate” may some day be used in marine warfare. I myself have no doubt of this, for there is no reason why a turtle-backed little ironclad, almost submerged, should not steam under the stern of a great man-of-war like the “Camperdown,” and having disabled her propeller blades, tow her _nolens volens_ into an American port, where she could be detained until peace should be declared.
