Greetings, my friends. Some months ago, I happened to overhear a conversation about something called the ‘Telectroscope’ – a word which immediately caught my attention as worthy of my own neologistic invention. Listening closely, I learned that the Telectroscope was a work of art, which took the form of a huge tube or tunnel disappearing into the ground by the side of the river Thames. Passers-by looking into the tunnel could see all the way under the Atlantic ocean, as far as New York, and could gesticulate at their counterparts gazing into their own tunnel in the American United States some three and a half thousand miles away.

From the utilitarian point of view, the fine arts are useful, in that they add to the total sum of pleasure, and for this reason I applaud the Telectroscope. It is, however, clear to everyone that the device must be some sort of trompe l’oeil, a visual sleight of hand, in essence based on trickery, wherein perhaps lies some degree of its artfulness. Nonetheless it is a most intriguing idea which deserves some further consideration. While creating the illusion of an immensely long tunnel – in truth, a simple idea – whose fictional construction in the nineteenth century by an imaginary inventor was documented in the publicity generated by the installation, in reality the Telectroscope worked by the use of the most modern and sophisticated technology, viz. a broadband internet connection.

The Telectroscope purported to be a gigantic telescope, through which people could communicate across (or rather beneath) the Atlantic ocean. As a student at Oxford, I was interested in telescopes, and on one occasion succeeded in viewing the phaenomenon of Madam Venus through a telescope officially designated for the use of university fellows only. I obtained a clear view of Venus, who appeared considerably broader than a crown piece. Later in my life, I used the metaphor of the telescope when describing the usefulness of a gazetteer of the statistics of the United States – indeed in a phrase which can only be described as prescient, I wrote that this work was a telescope in which one could see England and English America (as it then was).

The unnatural extent of the range of the Telectroscope also calls to my mind an invention which I devised for use in my projected Panopticon prison – the conversation tube. These tubes would connect the governor with both the cells of the inmates, and with his sub-governors. I also realized that such tubes could be brought into use in government offices – the prime minister in his central station could be connected by conversation tube with all his subordinate ministers in their offices. By experiment I established that by means of a narrow tube, the slightest whisper could be transmitted very much further and more easily than the normal speaking voice without the aid of such device, viz. approximately 350 feet.

I must confess that the idea of connecting continents by tunnel did not occur to me during my lifetime. I did, however, conceive of the notion of connecting the Atlantic with the Pacific ocean by means of a channel. My writings entitled ‘Junctiana Proposal’ expound on this topic, and I am proud to record that the Panama Canal which was eventually built bears close similarities to my plan.

In the 1820s many schemes, and at least seven routes, were proposed to build such a Canal. My initial proposal was written in 1822, at a time when I was in contact with a representative of the Colombian government and another from the Mexican government. The proposal was for a canal via Lake Nicaragua linking the Pacific and Atlantic Oceans through land then bordered by and to be donated by Mexico and Colombia for ‘universal benefit’. However, I was not concerned with the construction of the canal, but with the management of it – I envisaged that the canal would be managed by a joint stock company under the protection of the American United States.

The project of building a canal was eventually completed in the early 1900s by the United States, who were granted rights to administer indefinitely the Panama Canal, which was opened in 1914. This treaty became a contentious diplomatic issue between Panama and the United States, resolved with the signing of the Torrijos-Carter Treaties in 1977 returning the former Canal Zone territories to Panama, and leading to full control by the Panama Canal Authority in 1999.

Lastly on related subjects, it is perhaps interesting to note that my brother Samuel Bentham, in his day a most renowned engineer and inventor, was a close colleague of Marc Isambard Brunel in the Portsmouth block mills of the early nineteenth century. Brunel of course went on to become famous for many other projects but of prime importance was his work on the Thames tunnel, which, despite many setbacks opened as a pedestrian tunnel in 1843, and is still in use today as part of the London Underground network. And of course, should any of you who pass by my residence in UCL wish to visit Paris, it is but a short step to St Pancras station, and then a little under three hours’ journey time to that beautiful city, thanks to the feat of engineering – and the not unworthy successor to Brunel’s labours – which is the Channel Tunnel. I myself visited Paris on more than one occasion, but alas! for me, the journey took at least a week rather than three hours. Modern technology seems to be causing the diminution of both time and space. The Telectropscope allowed us to see our fellow citizens of the world in New York – what ever or who ever will be next?

Yours devotedly,

J.B.