well as appreciated, and the ingenuity now afloat is too extensive for one not to apprehend that individuals, even in good faith, may make some addition to qualify them to take out a first patent for the principle; whereas, if you brought it at once, now, before the competent authorities, especially under the advantage of an introduction such as Mr. Drummond can give you to Lord Brougham, a short delay in your proceeding to America may secure you this desirable object immediately.

With every sincere good wish for your success and the credit you so richly deserve, I am, dear sir,

Yours faithfully
ELGIN.

While it is futile to speculate on what might have been, it does seem as if Morse made a serious mistake in not taking Lord Elgin’s advice, for there is no doubt that, with the influential backing which he had now secured, he could have overcome the churlish objections of the Attorney-General, and have secured a patent in England much to his financial benefit.  But with the glamour of the Russian contract in his eyes, he decided to return home at once, and the opportunity was lost.

We must also marvel at the strange fact that the fear expressed by Lord Elgin, that another might easily appropriate to himself the glory which was rightly due to Morse, was not realized.  Is it to be wondered at that Morse should have always held that he, and he alone, was the humble instrument chosen by an All-Wise Providence to carry to a successful issue this great enterprise?

Regarding one of his other visitors, the Earl of Lincoln, it is interesting to learn that there was another meeting between the two men under rather dramatic circumstances, in later years.  This was on the occasion of the visit of the Prince of Wales, afterward Edward VII, to America, accompanied by a suite which included, among others, the Duke of Newcastle.  Morse was invited to address the Prince at a meeting given in his honor at the University of the City of New York, and in the course of his address he said:—­

“An allusion in most flattering terms to me, rendered doubly so in such presence, has been made by our respected Chancellor, which seems to call for at least the expression of my thanks.  At the same time it suggests the relation of an incident in the early history of the Telegraph which may not be inappropriate to this occasion.  The infant Telegraph, born and nursed within these walls, had scarcely attained a feeble existence ere it essayed to make its voice heard on the other side of the Atlantic.  I carried it to Paris in 1838.  It attracted the warm interest, not only of the continental philosophers, but also of the intelligent and appreciative among the eminent nobles of Britain then on a visit to the French capital.  Foremost among these was the late Marquis of Northampton, then President of the Royal Society, the late distinguished Earl of Elgin, and, in a marked degree, the noble Earl of Lincoln.  The last-named nobleman in a