In windy weather the electric wires form an Eolian harp, which occasionally emits most unearthly music. “I say, Jack!” said an engine-driver to his stoker, who, like himself, was listening for the first time to this querulous sort of noise proceeding from the newly erected wires along his line, “I say, Jack! ain’t they a giving it to ’em at Thrapstone?”
When the posts and wires of the electric telegraph between Northampton and Peterborough were being erected, an honest farmer, who for many minutes had very attentively been watching the operation, inquired of the chief superintendent to what use it was to be applied? On being informed that by its means he would in a few minutes receive at Wellingboro’ a list of the Mark Lane prices in London, he evidently incredulously asked how that was to be done; and on its being explained to him that the intelligence would be sent down to him “letter by letter,” he exclaimed, “But you don’t mean to say that, besides letters, it will bring down parcels too?”
As the rails and electric wires are now immediately before us, we cannot refrain from observing that the two inventions, like all branches of science, not only materially assist each other, but that the former, to a considerable degree, has created the latter: for instance, it may be truly said that Mr. M‘Adam materially assisted the invention of the innumerable little four-wheeled carriages which burst into existence as soon as, in consequence of good roads, it became possible for a single horse to draw a whole family. In like manner, it may, we submit, be reasonably and fairly asserted that the gradients and police of the railway have materially assisted the invention, or rather the application, of galvanic electricity to wires, which, placed along unguarded high roads, would have been practically useless.
On the outside of the Central Telegraph Station, as well as in the interior, there is an electric clock, the latter of which is worked by a small battery contained in a white jar capable of holding about three quarts, and, the pendulum being operated upon by combined electricity with galvanism, the clock requires no winding up, and would, therefore, go perpetually, or rather as long as the battery lasts; and if the Company would, instead of gas-burners, adopt the electric light, their establishment would then, sui generis, be complete.
Considerable instruction, with some little amusement, might, no doubt, be derived from a perusal of the variegated information, intelligence, and ordinary as well as extraordinary private messages which have been despatched and recorded by the electric telegraph; but the Company very properly faithfully refuse—be it important or unimportant—to unveil to any one what they consider to have been confidentially intrusted to their care.
Those, however, who have recourse to the invention often divulge their own secrets; and accordingly here is one which came to us direct from one of the parties concerned.
During a marriage which very lately took place at ——, one of the bridesmaids was so deeply affected by the ceremony, that she took the opportunity of the concentrated interest excited by the bride to elope from the church with an admirer. The instant her parents discovered their sad loss, messengers were sent to all the railway stations to stop the fugitives. The telegraph also went to work, and with such effect that, before night, no less than four affectionate couples legitimately married that morning were interrupted on their several marriage jaunts, and most seriously bothered, inconvenienced, and impeded by policemen and magistrates, who
“Like envious clouds seem’d bent to dim their glory,
And check their bright course to the Occident.”