The Fulton County news. [volume] (McConnellsburg, Pa.) 1899-current, 1907-08-29
The Imaginative Novelist
BY the Editor of Life.

BY the Editor of Life.
When 1t is not deliberately fantas-
.ic, the imagination of the novelist
equipped with scientific training
sometimes takes on the nature OF
prophecy-th prophecy that. accord
ing to our modern understanding, is !
no wise supernatural, but Is simply |
perception of the truth, raised to
the nth power. Such seer, along
material lines, was Jules Verne, who,
as everybody knows, foretold In his
fictions such marvels as the sub
marine boat. We seem to recall that
Bulwer Lytton, "a kind of splendid
charlatan," did something of the
same sort In "The Coming Race"
And now comes II. G.. Wells, who,
two years ago, in his remarkable
work, "A Modern Utopia" antici-
pated the amazing announcement,
recently cabled from London, that
Louis Brennan, with the aid of the
gyroscope, has perfected a new syg-
TEN of locomotion whereby railway
trains of great width may attain an
incredible speed. Had the Herald's
special cable conveyed this news, the
sophisticated readers of that jour
nails pseudoscientific "beats" might
have passed the salt and sought the
sobering effect Of the society" col
umn. But 1t was set forth on the
first page of the Sun, and fortified
by the auspices of the Royal Socl-
ety." Hence, though we rubbed our
eyes and read again, we knew 1t must
be SO.
And now let us compare prophecy
with the facts in hand. at has been
decided" says Mr.. Brennan, "to make
the experimental wagon twelve feet
wide, or one and a half times as
wide as usual" Again: "Mr. Bren-
mans confident dream" says the Lon
don correspondent, "is of a trans
continental line furnished with a
travelling hotel with rooms fifteen or
twenty feet wide that will carry pas
sengers in perfect comfort and safety
at a speed of 12O to $50 miles an
hour"
What did Mr.. Wells say? "A
Utopian train is just peculiar kind
OF hotel corridor that flies about the
earth while one sleeps" To read
his chapter of an imaginary trip to
London from some distant point on
the Continent is like reading a news
account of what we are now assured
is really to happen in the near future.
The author and his companion, the
botanist, reach the railway station,
with its books and comforts, and, ex-
changing their shoes for slippers, sit
down at ease like men in club. A
bell tinkles, they see the label LON
don" on the doorway, and presently
they pass into an equally comfortable
gallery. And when the train, with
It's few windows, and with all the
appointments of club, has started,
they do not know 1t:
"The botanist touches my arm and
mods towards a pretty little lead
paned window, through which we
see village sleeping under cloudy
moonlight go flashing by. Then a
skylit lake, and then a string of sway
ing lights, gone with the leap of a
camera-shutter.
1.-TWO hundred miles an hour!"
Their observation is but momen-
tary; for when one travels beyond
certain speed there is nothing but
fatigue in looking out of a window,
says the author, "and this corridor
train, twice the width of it's poor ter
restrial brother, will have no need of
that distraction.
AS Alfred Russell Wallace has
pointed out, mankind through all the
centuries preceding the nineteenth
knew nothing much better than the
ox-cart. Then, presto! the steam
locomotive, and civilization moved
forward at one enormous stride. And
now: One hundred and fifty miles
an hour! New York to San Fran
cisco in a day! Only few weeks
ago, Mr.. Hartman was pointing out
what others had pointed out In years
gone blythe need of widening the
railway gauge. But Mr.. Brennans
wheels go round on single rail. It
only goes to show that our captains
of industry need the counsel of the
imaginative novelist. Or was Mr..
Wells, after all. in the confidence OF