The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1898-05-08
THE LITERARY OUTLOOK.
r,xo INTERESTING INCIDENTS OF
KIPIING's POETRY.

vcrris and GeIett Burgess and
Tbeir Recent work.
New York, May 7.A7Everybody by now
,.,oUs Rudyard Kipllng's poem, Recess
sfora1" which pronounced in so impress
-i,.e and masterful a way the last word
-, Oueen Victoria's diamond jubilee. The
,+orv Of how this poem came to be pub
1isbed is rather a pretty one and has not
ret been publicly told. A young Ameri-
.,an woman, whose name 1 am not at lib
ort,, 10 disclose, was visiting Mr.. Kip
ling and enjoying the high privilege OF
having him read her some of the things
maj he had still by him, undecided as
vel when or whether to release them to
che printer Among them was "Reces-
sionaL" which Mr.. Kipling himself SEEM
ed TO regard with, perhaps, less esteem
than any of the others. His guest was
particularly impressed by it, was indeed
NOT enthusiastic over it, recognized
its greatness Enthusiastically, and urged its
Immediate publication with all her power.
Mr. Kipling yielded his scruples and mail
cd the poem to the London Times, and 1t
promptly appeared in the complimentary
way of which we know-that Is, conjoined
with the Queens formal letter of thanks
20 her subjects for the splendid testimony
Of affection they had just paid her, and
highly commended along with the letter
in a Times leader.
Mr. Kipllng's poems, by the way, seem
to be prolific of pleasant condolences. The
poem he published in the current number
of McClure's Magazine on torpedoes and
torpedo boats supplies one. 1 am not in
the secrets of McClure's, and so cannot
say how long the editors had had thai
peculiarly Apostle poem by them when
they published it. But from what
know of such matters in general, / should
say that it was morally sure that the
poem was written not few months ago;
the instance 1 have just recited shows how
slow Mr.. Kipling is to part with his pro-
auctions. But however far back the poem
may have been written, such was the
poets prescienee that he inserted in il
the lines
The doom-bolt in the darkness freed
The mine that splits the main.
am told that when the poem came
up in proof room from the printer, the
printers proofreader has raised a query
on the margin of the proof whether
main in the second line should not be
spelled with a capital M and a final "e"
Imagine the feelings of an up-to-date edi-
tor when 10 such a question he had to
answer, self-denying, 'Nor'
About ten years ago there appeared in
Scribners Magazine a short story, ma
tive enough in it's characters and atmos-
phere, but rather French in its theme
and sentiment and its dramatic clever
ness and signed with the name of Mar
garet Sutton Briscoe. The name had
never before appeared, I believe, in any
of the more important magazines, but it
has appeared not infrequently since;
and the capable woman who bears it
illustrates very Interestingly in her ca
reer. the success that may be expected
10 attend patient, unresting pursuit
OF an earnest, well-defined purpose. At
the time she submitted her early stories
at Scrlbner's she was young girl living
in Baltimore. She had had fair education,
good family training and some social ex-
perience. But she had had no special
guidance in her writing, and she enjoyed
no literary pull" Her native instinct
for her chosen craft soon disclosed to her,
however that if her writing were to be
so, even her early stories had rarely the
fault of SO many early stories, that they
related nothing that they got nowhere.
And then she discovered that, for her,
at least, It was important to have the seat
OF production somewhere near the center
OF the market; that to sit in some secluded
oale remote from the general literary
tide, and with no knowledge of its par
ucular curves and eddies, was likely to
shooting of arrows into the mere air. So
she came on to New York and for several
years practically made her home here.
Then she was married to Prof. Arthur
Hopkins of Amherst college, and re-
moved to Amherst, Mass, where she is
now the capable director of a house, a
devoted wife and mother, something of
social leader, and yet pursues her lit
erary labors faithfully a given number
OIL hours every day, and is showing a
constapt improvement In the quality of
her work. The book of short stories
which she has just brought out, "Jimty
ana Others" is her third, and it's excel
Ience over the earlier ones is obvious
ana, what Is more, it gives clear promise
OF books to come that shall be Still bet
ter.
must say that l find in Mrs Hopkins
an attractive and inspiring instance. In
NIlthS the other day OF MIR. Morgan
robertson, 1 found it prudent to warn
the literary aspirant against a possibly
ialse interference that might be suggested
by the story of his career. I am not
sure that a similar warning is not called
LOT in the case of Mrs. Hopkins. I'm
doubtedly she was forwarded some
what on coming to New York, by her
social gifts; very likely ii was, in part,
the unconscious potency of these in her
that prompted her to come. If she had
mad the Wordsworthian shyness of ma
ture she might have had the Words
Worthian power of reclusive production.
But be that as it may, she came; and
she conquered, in some measure, social
ly. She did not sit all her days in a
literary attic and send her submissions
by post, with a stamped envelope for
return. On the contrary, she soon at
tained-and I don't know but 1 may say
she made it her business to atlantic
the hight so wondered at and envied by
the more ingenious of the noyices, the
night, namely, of knowing all the edi-
tors to their personal discomfort; she
showed herself to them a person whom,
whatever You might think OF her writings,
II was pleasure to know, and, thanks to