A spirit that had been hid, since the world began, in a coffer of metal and acid,—­the genie of the lightning,—­shut down, as by the seal of Solomon in the Arabian tale, was let loose but the other day, and commenced to do the bidding of man.  Every one found that he could transport his thought to the ends of the earth in the twinkling of an eye.  That spirit, with its electric wings, soon flew from city to city, and whithersoever the magnetic wire could be traced through the air, till the nations of all Europe stood as face to face, and the States of this great Union gazed one upon another.  It made a continent like a household,—­a cluster of peoples like members of a family,—­each within hearing of the other’s voice.

But one achievement remained to be performed before the whole world could become one.  The ocean had hitherto hopelessly severed the globe into two hemispheres.  Could man make it a single sphere?  Could man, like Moses, smite the waves with his electric rod, and lead the legions of human thought across dry shod?  He could,—­and he did.  We all remember it well.  A range of submarine mountains was discovered, stretching from America to Europe.  Their top formed a plateau, which, lying within two miles of the surface, offered an undulating shoal within human reach.  A fleet of steamers, wary of storms, one day cautiously assembled midway over it.  They caught the monster asleep, safely uncoiled the wire, and laid it from shore to shore.  The treacherous, dreadful, omnipotent ocean was conquered and bound!

How the heart of the two worlds leaped when the news came!  Then, more than at any time before, were most of us startled into a conviction of how real progress was,—­how tremendous, and limitless, apparently, the power which God had put into man.  Not that this, in itself, was greater than that which had preceded it, but it was the climax of all.  The mechanical feat awoke more enthusiasm than even the scientific achievement which was its living soul,—­not because it was more wonderful, but because it dispelled our last doubt.  We all began to form a more definite idea of something great to come, that was yet lying stored away in the brain,—­laid there from the beginning.  Like the Magian on the heights of Moab, as he saw the tents of Israel and the tabernacle of God in the distance, we grew big with an involuntary vision, and were surprised into prophecies.

It was wonderful to see the Queen of England, on one side of that chasm of three thousand miles, wave a greeting to the President, and the President wave back a greeting to the Queen.  But it was glorious to see that chord quiver with the music and the truth of the angelic song:—­

  “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth
       peace,
  Good-will toward men!”

Soon, however, came a check to the excitement.  For above a score of days was that mysterious highway kept open from Valentia to Trinity Bay.  But then the spell was lost, the waves flowed back, old ocean rolled on as before, and the crossing messages perished, like the hosts of Pharaoh in the sea.