e, for
lee shores, railroad collisions, and that curious class of maritime
accidents where one steamer runs into another under the impression that
she is a light-house. Imagine the Morse alphabet applied to a
steam-whistle, which is often heard five miles. It needs only _long_
and _short_ again. "_Stop Comet_," for instance, when you send it down
the railroad line, by the wire, is expressed thus: ... - .. .... .. .
.. -- . - Very good message, if Comet happens to be at the telegraph
station when it comes! But what if Comet has gone by? Much good will
your trumpery message do then! If, however, you have the wit to sound
your long and short on an engine-whistle, thus:--Scre scre, scre;
screeee; scre scre; scre scre scre scre; scre scre--scre, scre scre,
screeeee scrceeee; scre; screeeee;--why, then the whole neighborhood,
for five miles round, will know that Comet must stop, if only they
understand spoken language,--and, among others, the engineman of Comet
will understand it; and Comet will not run into that wreck of worlds
which gives the order,--with his nucleus of hot iron and his tail of
five hundred tons of coal.--So, of the signals which fog-bells
can give, attached to light-houses. How excellent to have them
proclaim through the darkness, "I am Wall"! Or of signals for
steamship-engineers. When our friends were on board the "Arabia" the
other day, and she and the "Europa" pitched into each other,--as if, on
that happy week, all the continents were to kiss and join hands all
round,--how great the relief to the passengers on each, if, through
every night of their passage, collision had been prevented by this
simple expedient! One boat would have screamed, "Europa, Europa,
Europa," from night to morning,--and the other, "Arabia, Arabia,
Arabia,"--and neither would have been mistaken, as one unfortunately
was, for a light-house.

The long and short of it is, that whoever can mark distinctions of time
can use this alphabet of long-and-short, however he may mark them. It
is, therefore, within the compass of all intelligent beings, except
those who are no longer conscious of the passage of time, having
exchanged its limitations for the wider sweep of eternity. The
illimitable range of this alphabet, however, is not half disclosed when
this has been said. Most articulate language addresses itself to one
sense, or at most to two, sight and sound. I see, as I write, that the
particular illustrations I have given are all of