l 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 the 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 them confined to signals seen or
signals heard. But the dot-and-line alphabet, in the few years of its
history, has already shown that it is not restricted to these two
senses, but makes itself intelligible to all. Its message, of course, is
heard as well as read. Any good operator understands the sounds of its
ticks upon the flowing strip of paper, as well as when he sees it. As he
lies in his cot at midnight, he will expound the passing message without
striking a light to see it. But this is only what may be said of any
written language. You can read this article to your wife, or she can
read it, as she prefers; that is, she chooses whether it shall address
her eye or her ear. But the long-and-short alphabet of Morse and his
imitators despises such narrow range. It addresses whichever of the five
senses the listener chooses. This fact is illustrat