nish Don-by no means the worst figure in This was probably the most joyous and happy period of his existence. His health was good, his reputation was high, his circumstances were comparatively easy; his reputation had risen above the obscurations of party and prejudice, and he could quietly look down upon the slanderers, both literary and political, by whom he had been defamed, with a scorn which compassionated, even more than it condemned them. Despite the venial errors of his youth, he could look back upon a life devoted to the promotion of truth and loyalty, of religion and virtue. In politics his aspirations had been gratified, and his predictions realised, to the confusion of those who had calculated upon different results, and were, in truth, to be numbered amongst the allies of the common enemy. His children were growing up in happiness and in promise around him; and, in truth, it might be said, who so blest as he. The following we extract from his "Pilgrimage to Waterloo." He describes the greetings of his family upon his approach to his own house on his return. We regret exceedingly that we cannot give the whole description of this touching scene, as this poem is less known than any of his others to the general reader : "O joyful hour, when to our longing home The long-expected wheels at length drew nigh, When the first sound went forth, 'They come, they come !' And hope's impatience quicken'd every eye! Never had man whom Heaven would heap with bliss And there, a younger group, his sisters came: Smiling they stood with looks of pleased surprise, While tears of joy were seen in elder eyes. "Soon all and each came crowding round to share The cordial greeting, the beloved sight; What welcomings of hand and lip were there! And when those overflowings of delight But soon he was to feel a pang, and a shadow was to pass over him, which darkened all his remaining days. The youth above alluded to was one of those rare and gifted spirits, full of promise both of worth and eminence, who are sometimes lent to doating parents to be, for a brief season, their hope and their joy, but only, when their hearts begin to lean too fondly upon them, to be snatched away. was his father's pupil and playmate. Every day was developing faculties and affections which made him more beloved; and it was not until his powers, both moral and intellectual, had become not only "household words," but began to attract the admiration of strangers, that "A wasteful malady began To prey upon him," He and the troubled and anxious parents became tremblingly solicitous for the safety of their darling child. All was soon over. Their worst fears were realised. On the 17th of April, 1816, Herbert Southey, then in his tenth year, breathed his last, leaving a family, who had so short a time before been at the summit of happiness, steeped in affliction, of which, until the dawn of that other life, when those whom death hath separated shall be united, there could be no end. To soothe and mitigate such calamities the lenient hand of time does much; but its office is not to obliterate them. The aching void will always be felt, until we shall have learned that our saddest bereavements are intended to wean us from terrene enjoyments, to teach us, by powerful experience, to set our affections on things above, not on things of the earth, and that where our treasure is there should our hearts be also. The following extracts from the poet's letters, written immediately after this afflicting event, possess a touching interest: "MY DEAR BEDFORD,-Here is an end of hope and of fear, but not of suffering. His sufferings, however, are over, and, thank God, his passage was perfectly easy. He fell asleep, and is now in a better state of existence, for which his nature was more fitted than for this. You, more than most men, can tell what I have lost, and yet you are far from knowing how large a portion of my hopes and happiness will be laid in the grave For years it has been my daily prayer that I might be spared this affliction. with Herbert. "I will not venture to relate the boy's conduct during his whole illness. I dare not trust myself to attempt this. But nothing could be more calm, more patient, more collected, more dutiful, more admirable. "Oh! that I may be able to leave this country! The wound will never close while I remain in it. You would wonder to sce me, how composed I am. Thank God, I can control myself for the sake of others; but it is a life-long grief, and do what I can to lighten it, the burden will be as heavy as I can bear." "MY DEAR GROSVENOR,-Wherefore do I write to you? Alas, because I know not what to do. To-morrow, perhaps, may bring with it something like the beginning of relief. To-day I hope I shall support myself, or rather that God will support me, for I am weak as a child, in body even more than in mind. My limbs tremble under me; long anxiety has wasted me to the bone, and I fear it will be long before grief will suffer me to recruit. I am seriously apprehensive for the shock which my health seems to have sustained; yet I am wanting in no effort to appear calm and to console others; and those who are about me give me credit for a fortitude which I do not possess. Many blessings are left me-abundant blessings, more than I have deserved, more than I had ever reason to expect or even to hope. I have strong ties to life, and many duties yet to perform. Believe me, I see these things as they ought to be seen. Reason will do something, Time more, Religion most of all. The loss is but for this world; but as long as I remain in this world I shall feel it. "Some way my feelings will vent themselves. I have thought of endeavouring to direct their course, and may, perhaps, set al out a monument in verse for him and for myself, which may make our memories inseparable. "There would be no wisdom in going from home. The act of returning to it would undo all the benefit I might receive from change of circumstance for some time yet. Edith feels this; otherwise, perhaps, we might have gone to visit Tom in his new habitation. Summer is at hand. While there was a hope of Herbert's recovery, this was a frequent subject of pleasurable consideration; it is now a painful thought, and I look forward with a sense of fear to the season which brings with it life and joy to those who are capable of receiving them. You, more than most men, are aware of the extent of my loss, and how, as long as I remain here, every object within and without, and every hour of every day, must bring it fresh to recollection. Yet the more I consider the difficulties of removing, the greater they appear; and perhaps by the time it would be possible, I may cease to desire it." "Three things I prayed for the child's recovery, if it might please God; that if this might not be, his passage might be rendered easy; and that we might be supported in our affliction. The two latter petitions were granted, and I am truly thankful. But when the event was over, then, like David, I roused myself, and gave no way to unavailing grief, acting in all things as I should wish others to act when my hour also is come. I employ myself incessantly, taking, however, every day as much exercise as I can bear without injurious fatigue, which is not much." "MY DEAR WORDSWORTH,-You were right respecting the nature of my support under this affliction; there is but one source of consolation, and of that source I have drunk largely. When you shall see how I had spoken of my happiness but a few weeks ago, you will read with tears of sorrow what I wrote with tears of joy. And little did I think how soon and how literally another part of this mournful poem was to be fulfilled, when I said in it "To earth I should have sunk in my despair, Had I not claspt the Cross, and been supported there.'" We confess we have not heart, even if we had space, to proceed farther at present. In our next and concluding notice we shall find the poet in a more composed and happy frame of mind, and not leave him until we shall have followed him, also, to his latter end. ELECTRIC TELEGRAPH-SCIENTIFIC ERIAL VOYAGE OF MESSRS. BARRAL AND BIXIO-CONCLUSION. SUCH is the latest and greatest improvement of the Electric Telegraph. It has been objected to this system of Mr. Bain, that it provides a superfluity of power; that the exigencies of communication do not demand the extraordinary celerity and facility of despatch which it supplies; that to use it for the common purposes of telegraphic communication, is like employing a steam-engine to thread a needle. The answer to this is obvious. The public have not yet become familiar with the capabilities and the uses of this vast agent of intercommunication, which will soon show itself to bear to the post-office the same relation as the stocking-loom does to the knittingneedle, or the spinning frame to the distaff. They are now restrained from calling into play the functions of the Electric Telegraph by the excessive cost of transmission. To send a communication from London to Edinburgh or Glasgow, costs at the rate of eightpence per word. Using round numbers, a letter of moderate length, say one consisting of 300 words, would therefore cost ten pounds, and the answer to it, supposing it of equal length, as much more. Now, except in cases of the very highest importance, such a tariff constitutes an absolute prohibition. But with telegraphs working on the system adopted in England, it is difficult to see how this can be avoided. The tariff may be too high, and some reduction of its amount might increase the profits of the company, by augmenting the quantity of business done in a greater ratio than the diminution of the rate of charge. But such an extent of communication as we contemplate, and as we feel assured VOL. XXXVI.-NO. CCXII. will, sooner or later, be realised, would be utterly impracticable with the present telegraph. The probable effect of a considerable reduction in the charge for the transmission of telegraphic messages may, in some measure, be estimated from the state of telegraphic business in the United States. There a tariff, considerably lower than that which is es. tablished in England, has been adopted; and we find, accordingly, that the amount of the communications is increased in an enormous proportion, and that their character is altogether different. While, for example, no London journal, save the Times, is able to afford a daily telegraphic despatch of the French news, exceeding a few lines in length, and that only from Dover to London, the New York journals, the price of which is only one penny, while that of the London journals is five pence, receive by telegraph complete and detailed reports of the proceedings of Congress at Washington. During the trial of Professor Webster at Boston, on the charge of murder, which produced so much excitement in the United States and in Europe, a complete report of the examination of witnesses, and the speeches of counsel, was forwarded every night by telegraph from Boston to New York, and appeared in the morning journals the next day. Now, the telegraphic tariff in America, though inferior to that adopted in Europe, is very far above what it might, and no doubt will, be reduced to, when the improved and accelerated method of transmission, which we have described, shall be adopted. The methods now used in America K are those of Morse, and the earlier imThe method of provements of Bain. transmitting a written report by the application of the perforated ribbon of paper, which we have described, has been only recently patented in that country, and has not yet been brought into operation, consequently the celerity of communication, which would enable the transmission to be accomplished at a vastly reduced price, has not yet been practically realised there. In reference to what has been just stated, it may be interesting to mention, that one of the London journals had the spirit, not long since, to try, by experiment, whether the advantage to be derived from a long and detailed telegraphic despatch daily transmitted from Paris would, to use a commercial term, pay. A contract was, as we are assured, made with the telegraphic establishment, and a sum of more than £400 per month was actually paid for such daily communication. It was found, however, that the advantage was not adequate to the expense, for even at this price the intelligence was obliged to be conveyed in so compressed a style as to be deprived of its principal attraction. Even the daily despatch of the Times now published, consists, as will be perceived by reference to that journal, of a few heads of news, a sort of table of contents to the detailed despatch which is to follow. Such communications can have no interest or utility, except in cases where events of great importance have to be announced, a circumstance which it is evident can never be of daily Occurrence. By means of two conducting wires it is impossible, with the telegraphs now used in England, to transmit more than twelve hundred words per hour, and although that average capability be claimed for the existing system, we doubt extremely whether it can be realised one day with another. But assuming it to be practicable, it would follow that in a day of twelve hours two conducting wires could not transmit more than fourteen thousand four hundred words, which would be equivalent to 144 despatches of the average length of 100 words. Now it is clear that any reduction of the tariff which would give anything approaching to full play to the demands of the public, once awakened to the advantages which such a system of communication would offer, would create a demand for transmission far exceeding the powers of any practicable number of conducting wires. But with a system constructed on the principle adopted by Mr. Bain, a single wire is capable of transmitting about 20,000 words per hour, and two wires would therefore transmit 40,000 per hour, being thirty three times more than can now be transmitted. By the adoption of this system, therefore, the tariff of transmission might, with the same profit, be reduced in a ratio of about thirty to one, so that a despatch, the transmission of which would now cost a pound, would be sent at the cost of eight-pence. But it is evident that in the working out of the system, many other sources of economy would be developed, and a much greater reduction of expenses effected. When the powers of this improved telegraph shall be brought into full operation, and when this mode of intercommunication shall be available by the public in all parts of Europe, great changes in the social and commercial relations of the centres of commerce and population must be witnessed. Hitherto the use of the telegraph on the Continent has been limited to the government. The public has been altogether excluded from it. Such a system, however, cannot be of long duration, and the precursors of a speedy change are already apparent. A project of law has been presented to the Legislative Assembly by the French Government, to open the telegraph to commerce and the public. Lines of electric telegraph have been constructed, and are already in operation, along the principal lines of railway in France. A commission has been appointed by the Belgian Government, to report upon the means which ought to be adopted to construct lines of electric telegraph throughout that kingdom. Lines of considerable extent are in operation in the Prussian States, and still more extended systems are in preparation. Measures are in progress for the establishment of lines of electric telegraphs in the territories of Austria, Saxony, Bavaria, Wirtemburg, Baden, and all the lesser states of Germany. The Emperor of Russia has issued orders for the construction of lines of telegraphic wires to connect St. Petersburgh with Moscow, and with the Prussian, Saxon, and Austrian lines of telegraph. The measures for sinking a system of conducting wires in the channel between Dover and Calais are in progress. Of the ultimate practicability of this project there seems no good ground for doubt. In the United States wires have been already sunk in several arms of the sea, under which a neverending stream of despatches passes, and although the width of these pieces of water is in no case so considerable as that of the Straits of Dover, difficulties of the same kind as those encountered in the latter case have been successfully surmounted. When Dover shall have been united with Calais, by the realisation of this project, and when the various lines now in progress, and contemplated, on the Continent shall be completed, London will be connected by continuous lines of telegraphic communication with Brussels, Berlin, Hamburg, Lubeck, Bremen, Dantzig, Leipsic, Dresden, Prague, Vienna, Trieste, Munich, Augsburgh, Stuttgard, and the towns along the right bank of the Rhine, from Cologne to Basle; also with Amsterdam, the Hague, Rotterdam, Antwerp, and every part of Belgium; also with Boulogne, Lille, Valenciennes, Paris, Strasburgh, Bourdeaux, Lyons, Marseilles, and all the intermediate towns. On the arrival of the Indian mail at Marseilles the leading journals of London, at a cost which would ap pear fabulous, have obtained their despatches by means of special couriers riding express from Marseilles to Boulogne, and by express steamers from Boulogne to Folkestone. All this will be changed. The agent of the Times at Marseilles will receive from the Alexandrian steamer the despatches ready perforated on the ribbon of paper (a process which may be executed before their arrival); he will take it to the telegraph office, where it will be attached to the instrument, and will be transmitted direct to London at the rate of 20,000 words per hour on each wire. Two wires will, there fore, transmit three columns of the Times in eight minutes!! If a London merchant desire to despatch an important communication to his correspondent at Hamburg or Berlin, he will be able to do so, and to obtain an answer in five minutes, provided the letter and answer do not exceed a thousand words, and that his correspondent is ready without delay to reply. If the Foreign Secretary desire to send an important despatch to the British minister at Vienna, he is obliged at present to expedite it by a queen's messenger travelling express. He will then have only to get it perforated on a ribbon of paper in characters known only to himself and the ambassador, and to forward it to Vienna at the rate of three hundred words per minute. A project has been announced in the journals, which might be justly regarded as the creature of some candidate for Bedlam, if, after what we have stated as being actually practised, we could dare to pronounce anything of the kind impracticable. The project we allude to is, to carry a telegraphic communication across the Atlantic! It is proposed to encase a number of wires in a coating which will not be affected by sea water, and to sink it in the ocean! One extremity of this electric cable is to be fixed at New York or Boston, and the other, we presume, at Galway! On the occasion of the first meeting of the British Association held in Dublin, in 1836, Dr. Lardner, in a speech delivered in the Rotunda, startled the public by a prediction, that "the day was at hand when a railway across Ireland, from Dublin to Galway, or some other western port connected with a line of Atlantic steamers, would render Ireland one stage on a great highway, connecting London with New York." It is a fact sufficiently curious, that this prediction has been literally verified;" but what would have been said at that time, had the Doctor hinted at the bare It is a curious circumstance that public rumour should impute a statement to the effect, that a steam voyage across the Atlantic was a physical impossibility, to Dr. Lardner, who, as we have seen, was the first to predict the establishment of steam communication with America, and who made that prediction on an occasion at once so memorable and so public, in the presence of at least three thousand persons. The calumny, however, being fabricated and circulated by interested parties, amused those who delight to find scientific men com |