CHAPTER XXXVI.

"_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."