"_To him who hath shall be given, and he shall have abundance._"
The life of Dr. Franklin appears to have been one continued
exemplification of this most animating promise; for scarcely had he
finished that noble work just mentioned, before he was called to
another which acquired him a still higher reputation, I mean his
wonderful discoveries in electricity, and his application of them to
the preservation of human life and property. The manner in which this
honour was conferred on Dr. Franklin, is enough to convince all honest
minds that there is a kind Providence over the ways of men, that often
turns their "_seeming evils into real good_."
Among the many benefits which he derived from the dangerous scenes of
London, where he was so severely tried, and where he so gloriously
triumphed, was his acquaintance with a Mr. Collinson, of that city.
This gentleman had a soul of uncommon sensibility to the charms of
virtue. His first interview with Franklin, was in Watts's
printing-office. The sight of a youthful stranger, not yet out of his
teens, exhibiting such practical lessons of virtue to the deluded
young PORTER DRINKERS of London, filled him with admiration of his
character. On getting acquainted with him, he was in pleasing doubt,
whether most to esteem his heart or admire his head.
When Franklin left England, the generous Collinson accompanied him on
board the ship, and at parting, the two friends exchanged _canes_,
with promises of everlasting friendship and constant correspondence by
letters. Soon as all London had become filled with the aforesaid rage
for electricity, and electrical experiments, Collinson wrote the whole
history of them to Franklin, with a compliment to his genius, and an
earnest request that he would turn it to that subject, and accompanied
all with the present of a small electrical instrument. Franklin's
curiosity was excited. He immediately set to work; and presently made
discoveries that far exceeded all that Collinson had promised himself.
He discovered the power of metallic points to draw off the electrical
matter--he discovered a _positive_ and a _negative_ state of
electricity--he explained on electrical principles, the phenomena of
the famous Leyden vial--he explained the phenomena of the aurora
borealis, and of thunder-gusts--he showed the striking resemblance in
many respects between electricity and lightning.
1st. In giving light.
2d. In colour of the light.
3d. In crooked direction.
4th. In swiftness of motion.
5th. In being conducted by metals.
6th. In cracking in exploding.
7th. In subsisting in water or ice.
8th. In rending the bodies it passeth through.
9th. In killing animals.
10th. In melting metals.
11th. Firing inflammable substances.
12th. Emitting a sulphurous smell.
13th. In being attracted by iron points.
"We do not, indeed," says he, "know that this property is in
lightning, but since electricity and lightning agree in so many other
particulars, is it not probable that they agree also in this?"
He resolved at any rate to make the experiment. But foreseeing what a
blessing it would be to mankind, to disarm the lightnings of their
power to harm, he did not in the pitiful spirit of ordinary inventors,
cautiously conceal the dawnings of a discovery that promised so much
glory to his name. On the contrary, and with a philanthropy that
throws eternal loveliness over his character, he published his ideas,
inviting all the philosophers to make experiments on this important
subject, and even pointed the way, _i.e._ by insulated bars of iron
raised to considerable heights in the air.
Immediately, metallic bars, some of them forty feet high, were raised
towards the heavens, by sundry philosophers, both in France and
England. But God, as if pleased with such disinterested virtue,
determined to reserve to Franklin the honour of confirming the truth
of his own great theory. His plan to accomplish this, was in that
simplicity which characterizes all his inventions.
To a common kite, made of silk rather than paper, because of the rain,
he fixed a slender iron point. The string which he chose for his kite
was of silk, because of the fondness of lightning for silk; and for
the same reason, at the lower end of the string he tied a key. With
this simple preparation, he went out on the commons back of
Philadelphia, as a thundergust was coming on, and raised his kite
towards the clouds. The lightning soon found out his metallic rod, as
it soared aloft on the wings of the kite, and greeted its polished
point with a cordial kiss. With joy he beheld the loose fibres of his
string raised by the fond salute of the celestial visitant.
He hastened to clap his knuckle to the key, and behold, a smart spark!
having repeated a second, and a third time, he charged a phial with
this strange visitor from the clouds, and found that it exploded
gunpowder, set spirits of wine on fire, and performed in all respects
as the electrical fluid.
It is not easy to express the pleasure which this clear confirmation
of his theory must have given to our benevolent philosopher, who had
already counted up some of the great services which he should thereby
render to the world.
He lost no time in communicating these discoveries to his friend
Collinson in London, by whom they were read with unimaginable joy.
Collinson instantly laid them before the Royal Society, not doubting
but they would be printed among their papers, with the same enthusiasm
which he had felt. But to his great mortification they were utterly
rejected. Upon this, Collinson went in high dudgeon and printed them
himself, which was looked on as a very desperate kind of undertaking,
especially as he chose for his book, a title that seemed to carry a
death warrant on its face, _viz._ "NEW EXPERIMENTS ON ELECTRICITY,
MADE AT PHILADELPHIA, IN NORTH AMERICA." Some ventured however to read
the EXPERIMENTS ON ELECTRICITY MADE IN NORTH AMERICA, though with
pretty nearly such motives as usually lead people to see the learned
pig, or to hear a woman preach. But the scoffers were soon turned into
admirers. Discoveries so new and astonishing, presented in a manner so
simple, struck every reader with admiration and pleasure. The book
soon crossed the British channel, and was translated into most of the
languages of Europe. A copy of it, though miserably translated, had
the fortune to fall into the hands of the celebrated Buffon, who
immediately repeated the experiments and with the most complete
success. Lewis XV. hearing of these curious exhibitions, expressed a
wish to be a spectator of them. A course of experiments was made
before him and his court, to their exceeding surprise and diversion,
by Buffon and De Lor. The history of electricity has not recorded
those experiments. But it is probable, that they were not of so comic
a character as the following, wherewith Dr. Franklin would sometimes
astonish and delight his Philadelphia friends, during the intervals of
his severer studies.
I. In the presence of a large party at his house, he took up a pistol
which he had beforehand charged with inflammable air, well stopped
with a cork, and presented it to Miss Seaton, a celebrated belle in
those days. She took it from the doctor, but could not help turning
pale, as though some conjuration was brewing. "_Don't be afraid,
madam_," said he, "_for I give you my word that there is not a grain
of powder in it; and now turn it against any gentleman in the room
that you are angry with._" With a sudden blush, she turned it towards
a gentleman whom she soon after married. In the same instant, the
doctor drew a charged rod near the mouth of the pistol, the electric
spark rushed in, and set fire to the inflammable air; off went the
pistol; out flew the cork, and striking her lover a smart shock in the
face, fell down on the floor, to the exceeding terror at first, but
afterwards, to the equal diversion of the young lady and the whole
company. This he called THE MAGIC PISTOL.
II. At another time, in a large party at his house, all eager, as
usual, to see some of his ELECTRICAL CURIOSITIES, he took from the
drawer a number of little dogs, made of the pith of elder, with straw
for feet and tails, and set them on the table. All eyes were fixed on
him. "_Well, Miss Eliza_," said he, addressing the elegant Miss E.
Sitgreaves, "_can you set these little dogs a dancing?_" "_No indeed,
I can't_," replied she. "_Well_," replied he, "_if I had such a pair
of eyes as you have, I think I could do it._" She blushed. "_However,
let us see_," continued he, "_if we can't do something._" He then took
a large tumbler from the table, which he had previously charged with
the electric fluid, and clapped the tumbler over the dogs; whereupon
they instantly fell to skipping and jumping up the sides of the
tumbler, as if they were half mad to get out of it. This he called
"THE DANCING DOGS."
III. During something like a _levee_, at his house, one night, a
couple of ladies who had been at London and Paris, were speaking in
rapturous terms of the splendours of those royal courts, and of the
diamond stars which they had seen, glittering with more than solar
lustre on the breasts of the Prince of Wales and the Dauphin. At
length one of the fair orators, as if wrought up to a perfect
adoration of the wondrous stars which she had been so elegantly
depicting, turned to the doctor, and smartly asked him if he would not
like mightily to have such a star. "_To be sure, madam_," replied he
with his usual gallantry, "_and suppose we order one?_" She looked
surprised. "_Boy_," continued he, "_bring me down one of my electrical
jars, and put it on the sideboard._" While the servant was gone, the
doctor took a plate of tin, and cutting it into a dozen angles, like a
star, poised it on a wire projecting from his prime conductor. "_Well
now, ladies, put out the candles, and you shall see a star not
inferior to that of the prince of Wales._" The candles were put out,
and a turn or two of the jar being made, the lightning flew to the
plate of tin, and appeared at the extremities of its angles, in a
blaze of light beautiful as the morning star. This he called "THE
ELECTRIC STAR."
IV. On his sideboard was placed an electrical jar, concealed behind a
large picture of a man dressed in purple and fine linen. At a short
distance stood a little brass pillar, in front of which was the
picture of a poor man lying down ragged and wan as Lazarus. From the
ceiling, and reaching down to the sideboard, was suspended by a fine
thread, the picture of a boy, with a face benevolent and beautiful as
a youthful cherub. "_Well, now, gentlemen, do you know who these
are?--This is the proud, unfeeling Dives; that, the poor dying
Lazarus; and here is a beautiful boy, that for humanity's sake, we
will call the son of Dives. Now gentlemen, can any of you make this
lovely child the minister of Dives' bounty to poor Lazarus?"_
They all confessed their inability; regarding him at the same time
with an eye of expectation. Without being noticed by his company, he
charged the jar behind the picture of Dives with electric fluid from
his prime conductor. Instantly, the beauteous youth flew to it, and
getting charged flew to the brass pillar behind Lazarus, which
possessed no electricity, and imparted to it his whole load. He then
flew back to the jar of Dives, and receiving a second supply, hastened
to poor Lazarus and emptied himself again. And thus it went on to the
astonishment of the spectators, alternately receiving and imparting
until it had established a balance between them, and then, as if
satisfied, it came to a pause.
Seeing their surprise, the doctor thus went on. "Well, now, gentleman,
here is a fine lesson for us all. This electric fluid, which you saw
animating that youth, came down from heaven to teach us that men were
as assuredly designed to be helpmates to men, as were the two eyes,
the two feet, or the two hands, to assist one another. And if all who
are overcharged with this world's riches would but imitate this good
little electrical angel, and impart of their superabundance to the
empty and the poor, they would, no doubt, even in this world, find a
much higher pleasure than in hoarding it up for ungrateful heirs, or
spending it on vanity." This he called "DIVES AND LAZARUS."
But it were an endless task to enumerate all the rare and beautiful
phenomena, wherewith he would surprise and delight the vast circles of
friends and citizens, whose curiosity was so pressing, that, as he
says, _it almost wore him out_.
Sometimes, in order to show them the force of electricity he would
turn his wires against a pack of cards, or a quire of paper, and the
subtle fluid would instantly dart through, leaving a beautiful
perforation like the puncture of a large needle.
Sometimes, to show the wondrous qualities of electricity, he would let
them see it darting, like a diamond bead, through a long cylinder of
water, not hurt, like other fires, by that element.
Sometimes he would place a young lady, generally the handsomest of the
company, on his electrical stool; then by slily touching her dress
with his magic wand, he would so fill her lovely frame with the
electric fluid, that, on the approach of any young gentleman to kiss
her, a spark from her ruby lips would suddenly drive him frightened
and staggering back. This was called the "MAGIC KISS."
Sometimes he would fix figures of horses cut in paper, on wires nicely
poised, so as to move in circles round his prime conductor, then, from
his magic wand, he would dash on them a stream of mimic lightning,
which, potent as the whips and spurs of Newmarket, would set them all
in full speed, bending and buckling with glorious emulation in the
beautiful contest, to the great amusement of the spectators. The
public named this the "ELECTRICAL HORSE RACE."
Sometimes he would suspend, near the ceiling, a large flock of finely
picked cotton, or place on a distant table, a paper of gunpowder; then
from his wires, artfully directed, he would send a flash of lightning,
instantly exploding the powder, and wrapping the cotton into a blaze.
Sometimes he would take the model of a double-geared water mill,
turning two pair of stones, and placing it near his prime conductor,
direct a stream of electric fire against the large wheel, setting it
in motion, and with it the whole machinery of his mill, to the equal
surprise and pleasure of the beholders.
Sometimes he would take the figures of the sun, moon, and earth, cut
in papers, and fix them on wires, nicely balanced. Then, by the force
of the electric fluid, he would set them a-going in most harmonious
style--the earth revolving round her own axis; the moon round the
earth; and both round the sun; all exactly according to the course
which the hand of the Creator had prescribed to these mighty orbs.
For the sake of those who have never considered this wonderful
attraction of lightning to iron rods, I beg leave to relate the
following very extraordinary and daring experiments of Dr. Franklin.
In a large chamber, which he kept for his electrical apparatus and
experiments, he suspended a number of bells, all connected by wires,
and communicating, through the gable end of the house, with the large
lightning rods that descended along the chimney to the ground. His aim
in this contrivance was, that he might know whenever a lightning cloud
passed over his house in the night; and also what freight of
electrical fluid it carried about with it. For, as it seldom passes,
without paying a loving visit to his rod, so it always told, with
great honesty, the amount of its inflammable cargo, especially if it
was ample; in which case, it was always sure to set the bells a
ringing at a terrible rate.
And besides these, he had numbers of men and women of the Lilliputian
stature, cut in paper, and so artfully attached to the clappers, that
as soon as the bells began to ring, the men and women began to dance
also, and all of them more and more merrily, according as this
extraordinary kind of music played up more briskly. But though, for
the amusement of his friends, Franklin would sometimes set his bells
and dolls to ringing and dancing, by his electricity, yet his main
object was, to invite the lightnings to be the bell ringers, and
dancing masters to his puppets, that, as before observed, he might
become better acquainted with the nature of lightning, and thus extend
his electrical experiments and knowledge.
But it must be owned, that when the lightnings were drawn down for
this purpose among the bells and wires of his chamber, the
entertainment was almost too terrible to be agreeable to any but
philosophers.
The elegant J. Dickinson, Esq. informed me, that he was at Dr.
Franklin's one evening, with a large party, when a dreadful cloud
began to rise, with distant thunder and lightning. The ladies, panic
struck, as usual, were all in a prodigious bustle for their bonnets,
to get home. The doctor entreated them not to be frightened; for that
they were in the safest house in Philadelphia; and indeed, jokingly
offered to underwrite their lives at the low premium of a groat a
head.
When the storm was near its worst, he invited his company up into his
large chamber. A glimmering light faintly showed them his electrical
apparatus of globes, cylinders, bells, wires, and the Lord knows what,
conveying to those of the superstitious sort, a strong idea of a magic
cell, or a haunted castle, at least. Presently a dreadful clap of
thunder shook the house over their heads, the chamber was filled with
vivid lightnings, darting like fiery serpents, crackling and hissing
along the wire all around them, while the strong smell of sulphur,
together with the screams of the poor ladies, and the ringing of the
bells, completed the terribleness of the scene, inspiring a fearful
sense of the invisible world.
"_But all these things, gentlemen_," he would say, smiling all the
time on his crowding and gaping friends, as a parent on his children,
whom he saw surprised at small matters, "_all these things are mere
nothings; the childish sportings of an art but yet in its cradle_.
ELECTRICITY, gentlemen, is of the terrible family of lightning, that
most powerful of the works of God on this globe, and the chosen
instrument of most of his operations here below. It is the electric
fluid, (passing from a full cloud to an empty one,) that makes his
voice, and that, as the scripture says, _a terrible voice_, even the
THUNDER, to terrify the guilty, and to increase in the virtuous a
becoming reverence of the Creator. For if the electric fluid passing
from a small jar, cause so loud a crack, why should we wonder at the
dreadful peals of thunder that are occasioned, when thousands and
myriads of acres of clouds are throwing off their electric fluid in
rivers of living fires, sufficient to blow up the globe itself, if the
Almighty were but to let loose his hold on these furious agents. And
this electric fluid is that same lightning which, as David says,
_shines out from one end of Heaven to another_, and that so
instantaneously, that were all the men, women, and children, on earth,
joining hands, to form a ring round this great globe, an electric
shock given to the first person in that ring, would so suddenly reach
the last, that they themselves would probably be at a loss to
determine which of them received it first.
"Thus the electric fluid, in the form of lightning, serves also in the
hand of heaven as the _red rod_ to restrain the vicious. Does the
benevolent governor of the world seek to impress a salutary awe on the
gambler, the drunkard, and such immoral characters, whose lives are in
constant opposition to their own and the happiness of others? He but
speaks to his ready ministers, the lightnings. Quickly, from the
sultry cloud, coming up with muttering thunder, black and terrible as
nature's approaching pall, the frightening flash bursts forth, rending
the trees and houses over their heads; killing their flocks and herds;
and filling the air with smoking sulphur, a strong memento of that
dismal place to which their evil practices are leading them. And when,
to unthinking mortals, he sees fit to read instruction on a wider
scale, he only needs but beckon to the ELECTRIC FLUID. Straightway
this subtle servant of his power rushes forth, clad in various forms
of terror, sometimes as the roaring WHIRLWIND, unroofing the palaces
of kings, and desolating the forests in its course. Sometimes with
dreadful stride it rushes forth upon the 'howling wilderness of
waves,' in shape of the funnelled water-spout, with hideous roar and
foam, whirling the frightened billows to the clouds, or dashing them
back with thundering crash into their dismal gulphs; while the hearts
of the seamen, looking on, sink with terror at the sight, and even
sharks and sea-monsters fly for refuge to their oozy caverns.
"Sometimes, with the bolder aim of the earthquake, it strikes both sea
and land at once, sending the frightened globe bellowing and trembling
along her orbit, sadly pondering the coming day, when the measure of
sin being filled up, she shall be wrapt in these _same electric
fires_, perhaps, and lose her place for ever among the starry train."
But though the experiments above mentioned are highly curious; and
also Dr. Franklin's reflections on them abundantly philosophical and
correct, for what I know, yet the world should learn that the
gratification of public curiosity formed but a very small part of his
many and grand discoveries in electricity. For soon as he had
ascertained that lightning was the same thing with the electric fluid,
and like it, so passionately fond of iron that it would forsake every
thing else in its course, to run along upon that beloved metal, he
conceived the plan of putting this discovery to those beneficent uses
for which alone he thought the power of discovery was given to man,
and which alone can consecrate it to the divine Giver.
"_The_ GRAND _practical use_," says the learned Mr. Immison, who,
though a Scotch monarchist himself, had the extraordinary virtue to be
a profound admirer of our republican American,--"the grand practical
use which Dr. Franklin made of this discovery was to secure houses and
ships from being damaged by lightning; a thing of vast consequence in
all parts of the world, but more especially in North America, where
thunder gusts are more frequent and their effects, in that dry air,
more dreadful than they are ever known to be with us. This great end
he accomplished by the cheap, and seemingly trifling, apparatus of a
pointed metallic rod, fixed higher than any part of the building, and
communicating with the ground, or rather the nearest water. This rod
the lightning is sure to seize upon preferably to any other part of
the building, unless it be very large; in which case, rods may be
erected at each extremity; by which means this dangerous power is
safely conducted to the earth, and dissipated without doing any harm
to the edifice."
Had any thing more been necessary to convince the world of the value
of lightning rods to buildings, it was abundantly furnished by several
very terrible instances of destruction which took place about this
time in several parts of America, for no other reason upon earth, as
every one must admit who reads the account, but the want of lightning
rods.
There, for example, was the affair of the new church, in the town of
Newberry, New-England. This stately building was adorned on its north
end with an elegant steeple or tower of wood, running up in a fine
square, seventy feet from the ground to the bell, and thence went off
in a taper spire of wood, likewise seventy feet higher, to the
weathercock. Near the bell was fixed an iron hammer to strike the
hours; and from the tail of the hammer, a wire went down through a
small gimblet hole in the floor that the bell stood upon, and through
a second floor in like manner; then horizontally under the plaistered
ceiling of that floor to a plaistered wall, then down that wall to a
clock which stood about twenty feet below the bell.
Now come, gentlemen, _you_ who have no faith in lightning rods--you
who think it _blasphemy_ to talk of warding off GOD ALMIGHTY'S
LIGHTNING!--as if it were not just as pleasing to him to see you
warding off the lightning by steel rods, as warding off the ague and
fever by jesuit's bark; come, I say, and see how very visibly he
approbates our works of wisdom, which make us like himself. You have
read the structure of this steeple--the top, a _seventy feet spire
without any rod_--then a rod that went down zigzag, about thirty feet;
then a plaistered brick and stone wall without any rod, to the ground.
A dreadful cloud came over the steeple. At the first flash, away went
the whole of the seventy foot wooden spire, scattered all over the
church yard in splinters fit to boil the preacher's tea kettle. The
lightning then found the iron wire which it instantly seized on,
quitting all things else for that, and darting along with it in so
close an embrace, as barely to widen a little the gimblet holes
through which it passed. It then followed the wire in all its
meanders, whether perpendicular or horizontal--never turning either to
the right or to the left, to hurt the building, but passed through it
the whole length of the wire, which was about thirty feet, as
harmlessly as a lamb. But soon as its dear chain was ended, it assumed
the furious lion again; attacking the building with the most
destructive rage, dashing its foundation stones to a great distance,
and in other respects damaging it dreadfully.
Now what can be more reasonable than doctor Franklin's remarks on this
very remarkable occurrence?
"I. That lightning, in its passage through a building, will leave
wood, brick, or stone, to pass as far as it can in metal; and not
enter those again, till the metal conductor ceases.
"II. The quantity of lightning that passed through this steeple must
have been very great, by its effects on the lofty spire, &c., and yet
great as this quantity was, it was conducted by a small wire without
the least damage to the building as far as the wire extended.
"III. Hence it seems probable, that if even such a small wire had been
extended from the top of the steeple to the earth, before the storm,
no damage would have been done by that stroke of lightning."
A fate exactly similar to this attended the great Dutch church, of New
York, in 1750. As far as the wire was extended, which was from the top
of the steeple, to within a few feet of the earth, the lightning
closely accompanied it, passing with it through small holes in the
floors, without doing the least damage. But the instant it quitted the
wire, it commenced its ravages on the building.
The summer of 1760 was dreadfully hot in Pennsylvania; and the thunder
gusts frequent and terrible. Several ships at the wharves were struck
and greatly injured. One of them in particular, a very large ship, had
her mainmast torn to pieces, and her captain and three seamen killed.
Of houses, both in town and country, many were struck; and some of
them, as barns with large quantities of hay, and warehouses with hemp,
were set on fire and destroyed to the great detriment and terror, both
of the unfortunate sufferers and their neighbours.
These things, though melancholy in themselves, were not without their
good effects. They served to place in the strongest point of view, the
admirable efficacy of the newly invented lightening rods. For, while
buildings destitute of them, were often struck, and sometimes with
great loss of lives and property, those houses that had them, were
hardly ever known to be hurt, though the neighbours who saw the dismal
clouds when they bursted, with such hideous peals of thunder and
streams of lightning, were sickened with horrid apprehension that all
was lost. And even the house keepers themselves, when recovered from
their terrors and faintings, would fly shrieking from chamber to
chamber, amidst the clouds of sulphur to see who were _dead_. But
behold, to the delicious wonder of themselves and congratulating
friends, all were safe. But still the cry was, _certainly the house
was struck! the house was surely struck! let us examine the
conductors_.
The conductors were resorted to and examined, and behold! the wondrous
laws imposed of God on the most powerful of his creatures! The furious
lightnings had fallen on the houses in torrents of fire, threatening a
wide destruction. But the iron rods, faithful to their trust, had
arrested the impending bolts, and borne them in safety to the ground.
But it was found that the cataracts of lightning had proved too
powerful for the rods; in some instances melting them in two at their
slenderest parts, and in others entirely consuming them into smoke.
But though these GUARDIAN RODS had perished in their conflict with the
rude lightnings, yet they had succeeded in parrying the dreadful
stroke with perfect safety to the buildings and their terrified
inhabitants; thus impressing all men with joy and thankfulness, _that
God had given such complete victory over one of the most terrible of
all our natural enemies_.
In short, to use the handsome language of president Adams, "nothing
perhaps that ever occurred on earth, could have better tended to
confer universal celebrity on man, than did these lightning rods of
doctor Franklin's. The idea was certainly one of the most sublime ever
suggested to the human imagination. That mortal man should thus be
taught to disarm the clouds of heaven, and almost snatch from his hand
'_the sceptre and the rod_!'"
The ancients would, no doubt, have enrolled among their gods, the
author of so wonderful an invention. Indeed the reputation which
Franklin acquired by it, not only in America, but in Europe also, far
transcended all conception. His _lightning rods_, or as the French
called them, his "_paratonerres_," erected their heads, not only on
the temples of God and the palaces of kings, but also on the masts of
ships and the habitations of ordinary citizens. The sight of them
every where reminded the gazing world of the name and character of
their inventor, who was thought of by the multitude as some _great
magician_ dwelling in the _fairy lands_ of North America, and to whom
God had given controul over the elements of nature.
And equally wonderful was the change produced by them in the state of
general comfort. The millions, who had hitherto trembled at the cloud
rising in the heat of summer, could now look on it with pleasing awe
as it rose dark and solemn, with all its muttering thunders. And even
amidst the mingled flash and crash of the earth shaking tornado, the
very women and children, if they had but Franklin _paratonerres_ to
their chimnies, would sit perfectly composed, silently adoring God for
teaching such great salvation to men.
But the pleasure which doctor Franklin found in these plaudits of an
honest world was not without an alloy. Though the end of his labours
had been to do good; yet he soon discovered that there were some who
sickened at his success. Alas!
"Among the sons of men, how few are known
Who dare be just to merit, not their own."
Certain invidious scribblers, in London and Paris, began to decry his
well-earned glory, by pretending that it was all due to the Abbe
Nollet, to doctor Gilbert, or some other wonderful Frenchman or
Englishman, as the real father of electricity. Franklin took no notice
of all this impotent malice; nor indeed was it necessary; for soon as
it dared to present its brazen front in print, it was attacked by the
first-rate philosophers of Europe, who nobly taking the part of
Franklin, soon showed, to the general satisfaction, that whatever
others may have dreamed about the late wonderful discoveries in
electricity, they were all due, under God, to the great American
philosopher, who for these, and many other important discoveries, had
a good right to share with Newton in the following bold compliment.
"Nature and nature's works lay hid in night,
God said, let Franklin be, and all was light."