CHAPTER XXXV.
ELECTRICS.
I have something of interest to say about the first laying of the electric telegraph across the Atlantic. Sir Culling Eardley invited a number of savants, among them Wheatstone and Morse, and others, both English and American, to a great feast inaugurating the completion of the cable: and I, amongst other outsiders, had the honour of being asked. I had written, and after dinner I read, the verses following, which had the good and great effect of originating the first message (see the seventh stanza) which was adopted by acclamation and sent off at once; being only preceded, for courtesy-sake, by a short friendly greeting from Queen to President, and President to Queen. The heading runs in my book as "The Atlantic Telegraph."
"World! what a wonder is this,
Grandly and simply sublime,—
All the Atlantic abyss
Leapt in a nothing of time!
Even the steeds of the sun
Half a day panting behind,
In the flat race that is run,
Won by a flash of the mind!
"Lo! on this sensitive, link—
It is one link, not a chain—
Man with his brother can think
Spanning the breadth of the main,—
Man to his brother can speak
Swift as the bolt from a cloud,
And where its thunders were weak
There his least whisper is loud!
"Yea; for as Providence wills,
Now doth intelligent man
Conquer material ills,
Wrestling them down as he can,—
And lay one weak little coil
Under the width of the waves,
Distance and Time are his spoil,
Fetter'd as Caliban slaves!
"Ariel?—right through the sea
We can fly swift as in air;
Puck?—forty minutes shall be
Sloth to the bow that we bear:
Here is Earth's girdle indeed,
Just a thought-circlet of fire,—
Delicate Ariel freed
Sings, as she flies, on a wire!
"Courage, O servants of light,
For you are safe to succeed;
Lo! you are helping the Right,
And shall be blest in your deed.
Lo! you shall bind in one band,
Joining the nations as one,
Brethren of every land,
Blessing them under the sun!
"This is Earth's pulse of high health
Thrilling with vigour and heat,
Brotherhood, wisdom and wealth,
Throbbing in every beat;
But you must watch in good sooth
Lest to false fever it swerve,—
Touch it with tenderest truth
As the world's exquisite nerve!