Thomas Edison, “The Perfected Phonograph,” The North American Review, June 1888.

Ten years ago I contributed to the North American Review a paper on the
“Phonograph and its Future” in which I sketched the solution of certain problems
accomplished by my invention, and predicted some of the uses to which it would
be put.  Other weighty matters engaged much of my time and attention after that
article was published, but the future of which I then spoke has now arrived, and
the predictions which I made at that time are now verified.  For, when these
words appear in print, the demonstration of the phonograph’s practical
adaptability to the purposes mentioned by me will have been completed, and the
perfected instrument itself will be in the hands of the public, to be tested and
employed by them at will. . . .

It may be of interest, here, to contrast briefly the perfected phonograph with the
mere exhibition models shown, all over the world, in 1878.  Those models were
large, heavy machines which purposely sacrificed distinctness of articulation, in
order to secure a loud tone which could be heard in a large room. . . . Tin-foil was
used as the material on which the indentations were to be made.  The cylinders
were revolved by hand, or by clock-work; and there were numerous other details
of construction which differed from those of the instruments now completed.  At
that time I had made various designs for a special kind of electric motor, differing
from all others, to run the machine, in place of clock-work; and the phonograph
as we now manufacture it is provided with such a motor, which turns the cylinder
noiselessly, uniformly and easily.  Instead of tin-foil, I now use a cylinder of wax
for receiving the record of sound-pulsations, as in the original experiment.  One
diaphragm (the “recorder”) receives these pulsations, which are incised on the
wax, in exceedingly fine lines, hardly visible to the naked eye, by means of a
small point pressing against the wax.  A turning tool attachment, near this
recording diaphragm pares off the surface of the wax, removing any record which
may previously have been left there, and smoothing the way for whatever you
wish to speak into the “recorder.”  When you have finished speaking, two simple
motions bring the reproducing diaphragm into place directly over the wax; and
this diaphragm, provided with a very delicate but durable needle, takes up and
reproduces the vibrations registered in the fine lines of indentation, bringing them
to the ear by means of a tube. . . . The adjustment of these receiving and
transmitting diaphragms, known as the “recorder” and the “reproducer,” are very
exact, but very easily arranged.  And a machine, once adjusted after being set
up, will run well with very little attention or readjustment, for a long period of time.
The battery, also, conveniently placed in a box under the desk which holds the
instrument, will last for six weeks or more, according to use, without renewal.  A
scale and indicator running the whole length of the cylinder, in front, enable you
to observe at what point you began talking, so that the reproducer may be set at
that point on the wax as soon as you wish to take off the record.  Another very
handy attachment supplies a key for suspending the reproduction of sounds
when it is going on too rapidly for the copyist who is writing it out.  A second key,
when pressed down, will run the reproducer back so as to repeat anything which
has not been clearly understood, and this may be done any desired number of
times.

It is curious to reflect that the Assyrians and Babylonians, 2,500 years ago,
chose baked clay cylinders inscribed with cuneiform characters, as their medium
for perpetuating records; while this recent result of modern science, the
phonograph, uses cylinders of wax for a similar purpose, but with the great and
progressive difference that our wax cylinders speak for themselves. . . . With our
facilities, a sovereign, a statesman, or a historian, can inscribe his words on a
phonograph blank, which will then be multiplied a thousand-fold; each multiple
copy will repeat the sounds of his voice thousands of times; and so, by reserving
the copies and using them in relays, his utterance can be transmitted to posterity.
. . . Instrumental and vocal music. . . can be recorded on the perfected
phonograph with startling completeness and precision. . . .

In my article ten years ago, I enumerated among the uses to which the
phonograph would be applied. Letter writing and all kinds of dictation without
the aid of a stenographer.  2. Phonographic books, which would speak to blind
people without effort on their part.  3. The teaching of elocution.  4. Reproduction
of music.  5. The “Family Record”—a registry of sayings, reminiscences, etc., by
members of a family, in their own voices, and of the last words of dying persons.
6. Music boxes and toys.  7. Clocks that should announce in articulate speech
the time for going home, making meals, etc.  8. The preservation of languages,
by exact reproduction of the manner of pronouncing.  9. Educational purposes;
such as preserving the explanations made by a teacher, so that the pupil can
refer to them at any moment, and spelling or other lessons placed upon the
phonograph for the convenience of memory. 10. Connection with the telephone,
so as to make that invention an auxiliary in transmission of permanent and
invaluable records, instead of being the recipient of momentary and fleeting
communications.

Every one of these uses the perfected phonograph is now ready to carry out.  I
may add that, through the facility with which it stores up and reproduces music of
all sorts, or whistling and recitations, it can be employed to furnish constant
amusement to invalids, or to social assemblies, at receptions, dinners, etc.  Any
one sitting in his room alone may order an assorted supply of wax cylinders
inscribed with songs, poems, piano or violin music, short stories, anecdotes, or
dialect pieces, and, by putting them on his phonograph, he can listen to them as
originally sung or recited by authors, vocalists and actors, or elocutionists.  The
variety of entertainment he thus commands, at trifling expense and without
moving from his chair, is practically unlimited. . . . In teaching the correct
pronunciation of English, and especially of foreign languages, the phonograph as
it stands seems to be beyond comparison, for no system of phonetic spelling can
convey to the pupil the pronunciation of a good English, French, German or
Spanish speaker so well as a machine that reproduces his utterances even more
exactly than a human imitator could.

The speeches of orators, the discourse of clergymen, can be had “on tap,“ in
every house that owns a phonograph.  It would not be very surprising if, a few
years hence, phonograph newspaper bulletins should be issued on wax
cylinders. . . .
The wax cylinders can be sent through the mails in little boxes which I have
prepared for that purpose, and then put upon another phonograph at a distant
point, to be listened to by a friend or business correspondent.  To obviate the
difficulty caused by the friend’s not having a phonograph of his own, pay stations
will be established, to which any one may take the phonogram that he has
received, have it placed on the instrument, and the contents recited to him from
the machine, as well as copied out at the same moment by a type-writer.  Thus
the phonograph will be at the service of every one who can command a few
cents for the fee. . . .

My private secretary to-day speaks all letters into a phonograph, from which they
are taken off by a type-writer or ordinary long-hand writer, with an immense
saving of time and trouble. . . .

Furthermore, two business men, conferring together, can talk into the recorder by
means of a double transmitting tube, with perfect privacy, and yet obtain upon
the cylinder an unimpeachable transcript of their conversation in their own
voices, with every break and pause, every hesitation or confident affirmation,
every partial suggestion or particular explanation, infallibly set down in the wax.
They can then have this conversation written out or typed by a secretary, for
future reference; or can, if they prefer, have it multiple-copied by our mechanical
process.  In this way, many misunderstandings may be avoided. . . .In fact, the
phonograph will do, and does at this moment accomplish, the same thing in
respect of conversation which instantaneous photography does for moving
objects; that is, it will present whatever it records with a minute accuracy
unattained by any other means. . . .

It must be borne in mind that I am not talking now of things which may be made
possible in the future.  I did my predicting ten years ago; and the functions above
mentioned are those which the present perfected phonograph is able to fulfill at
this moment.  To use the phonograph, a little instruction and practice are needed,
but much less than the type-writer requires and hardly more than the training
needed for the operation of a sewing machine.

Various other uses for which the phonograph is now fully ripe might be
mentioned; but I do not want to give to these memoranda the character of a
catalogue.  Enough has been said, I think, to indicate that the phonograph, unlike
children, should be “seen” and “heard.”  It is no longer in a state of infancy.  It
may be still in its childhood; but it is destined to a vigorous maturing.  The
phonograph, in one sense, knows more than we do ourselves.  For it will retain a
perfect mechanical memory of many things which we may forget, even though
we have said them.  It will become an important factor in education; and it will
teach us to be careful of what we say—for it imparts to us the gift of hearing
ourselves as others hear us—exerting thus a decidedly moral influence by
making men brief, businesslike and straightforward, cultivating improved
manners, and uniting distant friends and associates by direct vocal
communication.