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And why thus lonely lingers she, when ali

The glorious gifts of Summer are no more?-
Her foot already treads Spring's leafy hall !
Her eyes see sunbeams gild the distant shore,

Distant, yet still how fair!

CLXXIV. - TELEGRAPHS.

1. From the earliest times, men have known how to communi cate with those living at a distance, especially in times of urgency by means of the fire-signal. When, however, from hill to bill over a whcle landscape, the beacon-flames arose, these signals could communicate no very definite information. It could only be learned that some great event had occurred. Vastly more useful, therefore, were the telegraphs, which, by varying the positions of their arms, represented letters, syllables, and whole words, and so rendered a regular conversation possible between individuals separated by a hostile army, or other insurmountable obstructions. The language which these telegraphs exchanged with one another, from one tower or steeple to another, before the eyes of the enemy, or thousands of the curious, depended upon an agreement between those who had to converse by these means; to them alone was it intelligible. Others, who lacked the key, could only guess at the meaning of the quickly-changing positions of the machine.

2. Of a quite different character are the telegraphs of which we now propose to speak. By their means the apparently im. possible has been made easy. Two persons, living fifty, or, indeed, hundreds of miles apart, may now communicate their thoughts in words, not, as in the case of the ordinary telegraph, in the space of an hour, or a half-hour, but instantly, as if they were seated at the same table. And could a connection by cop per wire be established between Washington and Pekin', and the loss of power which the electric fluid would sustain in such a space be avoided, then might a person in the capital of China receive intelligence from the United States in a fraction of a second; and even the man in the moon, if our electric fluid could be carried thither, would hear from the earth in the space of a second, for the transmission of thought by this method is swifter than light. The electric fluid travels in this way about two hundred and eighty-eight thousand miles in a second; a ray of light, only one hundred and ninety-two thousand miles.

3. But, in addition to this all-surpassing speed, such a mode of comniunication has quite other advantages over the ordinary telegraph. That which is to be communicated to a distant point is not seen by thousands of eyes, but only at the destined place does it make itself known. The course which the word thus expressed takes, in the invisible form of an electric discharge, is nidden under the earth, or, enclosed in the metal of the wire, passing high over the roofs of cities. But when it reaches its goal it announces itself, not only to the eye by the common telegraphic sign, but also to the ear. He with whom another communicates in the still, midnight hour, sits, perhaps, sunk in thought at his desk, or has fallen asleep, — the sound of a little bell arouses him; he listens; the sounds now of a lower, then of a higher toned bell are repeated; the number of bell-strokes, and the difference of the sounds, have meaning.

4. First, a deep sound, then, quickly succeeding, a higher, and then again a low note, represent an A; a low note, succeeded by two high notes, and again a low note, signifies B; a low note followed by no high note, and a high note followed by no low note, signify, the first E, the last J; three low notes, following one upon the other, stand for D. Thus, by the number and variety of sounds, every letter of the alphabet is expressed. Between the letters occurs a short pause; between the words the interval is longer. Thus, rapidly as an intelligent child may make out words by spelling, does it become possible by practice to understand the language of bells.

5. But suppose that the person to whom the distant intelligence comes is not awakened by the first stroke of the bell, and has lost the first part, or the whole, even, of what is thus communicated. Still, the loss is not irrep'arable. He finds, upon approaching the table at which his magical telegraph is arranged, that everything which he had failed to hear is set down there in visible characters. He finds a letter written, not, indeed, in ordinary characters, but in points, the peculiar position of which (corresponding to the different notes of the bell), and their combination, represent alphabetical signs, marked, like the sounds, with regularly occurring intervals between the letters and the words ; or, by another plan, he may find a message legibly printed out in bold letters on a narrow strip of paper.

6. In such phenomena as the motion of the electric fluid and of light, which the mind of man has taken into his service and learned to use at will, we have a type of the difference between the action of the mind and the body. Electricity and Light, although possessing power to penetrate space to an extent almost immeasurable, are indeed both material agents, and yet distance and time are almost annihilated by them; the connection they

establish, although by the material means of a metallic conductor, is miraculously direct and intimate. But what must that uniting attraction of souls be, which requires no corporeal medium, but darts instantaneously through an all-uniting spiritual element from one disembodied spirit to another ! Even now the director of an electric telegraph, although confined by the burthen of a body to a certain spot, is able at pleasure to converse with a distant friend, and be present with him in thought and will. What will not be possible when this confinement to the conditions of our planet shall fall away!

SCHUBERT

CLXXV. — THE ELECTRIC TELEGRAPH.

1. HARK! the warning needles click,

Hither - thither — clear and quick.
He who guides their speaking play
Stands a thousand miles away!
Here we feel the electric thrill
Guided by his simple will ;
Here the instant message read,
Brought with more than lightning speed

Sing who will of Orpheän El lyre
Ours the wonder-working wire !

2. Let the sky be dark or clear,

Comes the faithful messenger ;
Now it tells of loss and grief,
Now of joy in sentence brief,
Now of safe or sunken ships,
Now the murderer outstrips,
Now of war and fields of blood,
Now of fire, and now of flood.

Sing who will of Orpheän lyre,
Ours the wonder-working wire !

3. Think the thought, and speak the word,

It is caught as soon as heard,
Borne o'er mountains, lakes, and seas,
To the far antipodës ; EI
Boston speaks at twelve o'clock,
Natchez reads ere noon the shock
Seems it not a feat sublime ?
Intellect has conquered Time!

Sing who will of Orpheän lyre,

Ours the wonder-working wire! 1. Marvel — triumph of our day,

Flash all ignorance away!

Flash sincerity of speech,
Noblest aims to all who teach ;
Flash till Power shall learn the Right,
Flash till Reason conquer Might;
Flash resolve to every mind ;
Manhood flash to all mankind !

Sing who will of Orpheän lyre,
· Ours the wonder-working wire !

CLXXVI. — LOCHIEL'S WARNING.

Lochiel, a Highland chieftain, while on his march to join the Pretender, is met by one of the Highland seers, or prophets, who warns him to return, and not incur the certain ruin which awaits the unfortunate prince and his followers, on the field of Culloden.

Seer. LOCHIEL, Lochiel, beware of the day
When the Lowlands shall meet thee in battle array !
For a field of the dead rushes red on my sight,
And the clans of Culloden are scattered in flight:
They rally, they bleed, for their country and crown, -
Woe, woe to the riders that trample them down!
Proud Cumberland prances, insulting the slain,
And their hoof-beaten bosoms are trod to the plain.
But, hark! through the fast-flashing lightning of war,
What steed to the desert flies frantic and far ?
'Tis thine, O Glenullin! whose bride shall await,
Like a loye-lighted watch-fire, all night at the gate.
A steed comes at morning: no rider is there;
But its bridle is red with the sign of despair!
Weep, Albin! to death and captivity led !
0! weep! but thy tears cannot number the dead !
For a merciless sword on Culloden shall wave-
Culloden, that reeks with the blood of the brave !

Lochiel. Go preach to the coward, thou death-telling seer
Or, if gory Culloden so dreadful appear,
Draw, dotard, around thy old wavering sight,
This mantle, to cover the phantoms of fright!

Seer. Ha! laugh’st thou, Lochiel, my vision to scorn ?
Proud bird of the mountain, thy plume shall be torn!
Say, rushed the bold eagle exultingly forth,
From his home in the dark-rolling clouds of the North ?
Lo! the death-shot of foemen out-speeding, he rode
Companionless, bearing destruction abroad :
But down let him stoop from his havoc on high!
Ah! home let him speed, for the spoiler is nigh.
Why flames the far summit? Why shoot to the blast
Those embers, like stars from the firmament cast ?
'Tis the fire-shower of ruin, all dreadfully driven

From his eyry, that beacons the darkness of Ileaven.
0, crested Lochiel ! the peerless in might,
Whose banners arise on the battlements' height,
Heaven's fire is around thee, to blast and to burn;
Return to thy dwelling! all lonely return!
For the blackness of ashes shall mark where it stood,
And a wild mother scream o'er her famishing brood!

Lochiel. False wizard, avaunt! I have marshalled my clan
Their swords are a thousand, — their bosoms are one!
They are true to the last of their blood and their breath,
And like rea pers descend to the harvest of death.
Then welcome be Cumberland's steed to the shock!
Let him dash his proud foam like a wave on the rock !
But woe to his kindred, and woe to his cause,
When Albin her claymore indignantly draws !
When her bonneted chieftains to victory crowd,
Clanranald the dauntless, and Moray the proud,
All plaided and plumed in their tartan array -

Seer. Lochiel ! Lochiel ! beware of the day!
For, dark and despairing, my sight I may seal,
But man cannot cover what God would reveal.
'Tis the sunset of life gives me mystical lore,
And coming events cast their shadows before.
I tell thee, Culloden's dread echoes shall ring
With the blood-hounds that bark for thy fugitive King.
Lo! anointed by Heaven with the vials of wrath,
Behold, where he flies on his desolate path!
Now in darkness and billows he sweeps from my sight;
Rise! rise! ye wild tempests, and cover his flight! -
"T is finished. Their thunders are hushed on the moors :
Culloden is lost, and my country deplores.
But where is the iron-bound prisoner? Where?
For the red eye of battle is shut in despair.
Say, mounts he the ocean-wave, banished, forlorn,
Like a limb from his country cast bleeding and torn ?
Ah! no; for a darker departure is near;
The war-drum is muffled, and black is the bier ;
His death-bell is tolling; O! mercy, dispel
Yon sight, that it freezes my spirit to tell !
Life flutters, convulsed, in his quivering limbs,
And his blood-streaming nostril in agony swims!
Accursed be the fagots that blaze at his feet,
Where his heart shall be thrown, ere it ceases to beat,
With the smoke of its ashes to poison the gale—

Lochiel. Down, soothless insulter! I trust not the tale!
For never shall Albin a destiny meet
So black with dishonor, so foul with retreat.
Though my perishing ranks should be strewed in their gore
Like ocean-weeds heaped on the surf-beaten shore,
Lochiel, untainted by flight or by chains,
While the kindling of life in his bosom remains,

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