that is necessary. I write so fully because I am off to Mashonaland, and I can trust you to respect my confidence. It is a fearful thought to feel that you possess a patent, and to doubt whether your life will last you through the circumlocution of the forms of the Patent Office. I have that inner conviction that if I can live I have thought out something that is worthy of being registered at the Patent Office; the fear is, shall I have the time and the opportunity? And I believe, with all the enthusiasm bred in the soul of an inventor, it is not self-glorification I desire, but the wish to live to register my patent for the benefit of those who, I think, are the greatest people the world has ever seen, but whose fault is that they do not know their strength, their greatness, and their destiny, and who are wasting their time on their minor local matters, but being asleep do not know that through the invention of steam and electricity, and in view of their enormous increase, they must now be trained to view the world as a whole, and not only consider the social questions of the British Isles. Even a Labouchere who possesses no sentiment should be taught that the labour of England is dependent on the outside world, and that as far as I can see the outside world, if he does not look out, will boycott the results of English labour. They are calling the new country Rhodesia, that is from the Transvaal to the southern end of Tanganyika; the other name is Zambesia. I find I am human and should like to be living after my death; still, perhaps, if that name is coupled with the object of England everywhere, and united, the name may convey the discovery of an idea which ultimately led to the cessation of all wars and one language throughout the world, the patent being the gradual absorption
