The History of the Telephone - Herbert N. Casson (story books for 5 year olds .TXT) 📗

And so, notwithstanding all that has been done since Bell opened up the way, the telephone remains the acme of electrical marvels. No other thing does so much with so little energy. No other thing is more enswathed in the unknown.

Not even the gray-haired pioneers who have lived with the telephone since its birth, can understand their protege. As to the why and the how, there is as yet no answer. It is as true of telephony to-day as it was in 1876, that a child can use what the wisest sages cannot comprehend.

Here is a tiny disc of sheet-iron. I speak—it shudders. It has a different shudder for every sound. It has thousands of millions of different shudders. There is a second disc many miles away, perhaps twenty-five hundred miles away.

Between the two discs runs a copper wire. As I speak, a thrill of electricity flits along the wire.

This thrill is moulded by the shudder of the disc.

It makes the second disc shudder. And the shudder of the second disc reproduces my voice.

That is what happens. But how—not all the scientists of the world can tell.

The telephone current is a phenomenon of the ether, say the theorists. But what is ether? No one knows. Sir Oliver Lodge has guessed that it is “perhaps the only substantial thing in the material universe”; but no one knows. There is nothing to guide us in that unknown country except a sign-post that points upwards and bears the one word—“Perhaps.” The ether of space!

Here is an Eldorado for the scientists of the future, and whoever can first map it out will go far toward discovering the secret of telephony.

Some day—who knows?—there may come the poetry and grand opera of the telephone.

Artists may come who will portray the marvel of the wires that quiver with electrified words, and the romance of the switchboards that tremble with the secrets of a great city. Already Puvis de Chavannes, by one of his superb panels in the Boston Library, has admitted the telephone and the telegraph to the world of art.

He has embodied them as two flying figures, poised above the electric wires, and with the following inscription underneath: “By the wondrous agency of electricity, speech dashes through space and swift as lightning bears tidings of good and evil.”

But these random guesses as to the future of the telephone may fall far short of what the reality will be. In these dazzling days it is idle to predict. The inventor has everywhere put the prophet out of business. Fact has outrun Fancy. When Morse, for instance, was tacking up his first little line of wire around the Speedwell Iron Works, who could have foreseen two hundred and fifty thousand miles of submarine cables, by which the very oceans are all aquiver with the news of the world? When Fulton’s tiny tea-kettle of a boat steamed up the Hudson to Albany in two days, who could have foreseen the steel leviathans, one-sixth of a mile in length, that can in the same time cut the Atlantic Ocean in halves? And when Bell stood in a dingy workshop in Boston and heard the clang of a clock-spring come over an electric wire, who could have foreseen the massive structure of the Bell System, built up by half the telephones of the world, and by the investment of more actual capital than has gone to the making of any other industrial association? Who could have foreseen what the telephone bells have done to ring out the old ways and to ring in the new; to ring out delay, and isolation and to ring in the efficiency and the friendliness of a truly united people?

End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of The History of the Telephone