Chapter III: Franklin and Some Contemporaries (2)

We may, in passing, correct the error of those who credit French physicists with having originated the idea of the pointed conductor. Such writers should read the words of d'Alibard in the beginning of his memoir, where he says: "En suivant la route que M. Franklin nous a tracée, j'ai obtenu une satisfaction complète"; that is, "In following the way traced out by Franklin, I have met with complete success." To Franklin, therefore, belongs the idea of the pointed rod of 1750, which became the lightning conductor of subsequent years; to the Parisian savants belongs the great distinction of having been the first to make the experiment and verify the Franklinian view of the identity of the lightning of our skies with the electricity of our laboratories.

Franklin had precise ideas on the action of his pointed conductors, clearly recognizing their twofold function: (1) that of preventing a dangerous rise of potential by disarming the cloud; and (2) that of conveying the discharge to earth, if struck. In some of his letters, he complains of people who concentrate their attention on the preventive function, forgetting the other entirely. "Wherever my opinion is examined in Europe," he wrote in 1755, "nothing is considered but the probability of these rods preventing a stroke, which is only a part of the use I proposed for them; and the other part, their conducting a stroke which they may happen not to prevent, seems to be totally forgotten, though of equal importance and advantage."

A favorite illustration of Franklin's showing the discharging power of points, consisted in insulating a cannon ball against which rested a pellet of cork, hung by a silk thread. On electrifying the ball, the cork flies off and remains suspended at a distance, falling back at once, as soon as a needle is brought near the ball. (1747.)

He also used tassels consisting of fifteen or twenty long threads (Fig. 17), and even cotton-fleece, the filaments of which stand out when electrified, but come together when a pointed rod is held underneath. He also noticed that the filaments do not collapse when the point of the rod is covered with a small ball. (1762.)

Franklin's views on lightning-rods met with some opposition in France from the brilliant Abbé Nollet, and in England from Dr. Benjamin Wilson. The latter was mainly instrumental in bringing about the famous controversy of "Points _vs._ Knobs." In 1772, a committee was appointed by the Royal Society to consider the best means of protecting the powder-magazines at Purfleet from lightning. On the committee with Dr. Wilson were Henry Cavendish, the distinguished chemist and physicist, and Sir John Pringle, President of the Royal Society. The report favored sharp conductors against blunt ones advocated by Dr. Wilson. Five years later, in 1777, the question was again brought up, and again the new committee decided in favor of pointed terminals, convinced "that the experiments and reasons made and alleged to the contrary by Mr. Wilson were inconclusive."

Dr. Wilson, being a man of influence, succeeded in having his views taken up by the Board of Ordnance. It has been remarked that this controversy would never have attracted attention but for the fact that the discoverer of the effect of points was Franklin. He was an American and the dispute with the colonies was then at its height. The war of the Revolution had begun, and the British forces had already met with serious reverses. No patriot could, therefore, admit any good in points. George III. took sides, decreed that the points on the royal conductors at Kew should be covered with balls, and ordered Sir John Pringle to support Dr. Wilson. Sir John gave the dignified answer: "Sire, I cannot reverse the laws and operations of nature"; to which the King, incensed that so incompetent a man should hold such an important office, replied: "Then, Sir John, perhaps you had better resign," which Sir John did.

A wit of the time put the matter epigrammatically when he wrote:

"While you, great George, for knowledge hunt
And sharp conductors change to blunt,
The nation's out of joint;
Franklin a wiser course pursues,
And all your thunder useless views
By keeping to the point."

It was in connection with this heated controversy that Franklin wrote the following admirable words:

"I have never entered into any controversy in defence of my philosophical opinions. I leave them to take their chance in the world. If they are _right_, truth and experience will support them; if _wrong_, they ought to be refuted and rejected. The King's changing his _pointed_ conductors for _blunt_ ones is, therefore, a matter of small importance to me."

It was not until September, 1752, that Franklin raised a rod over his own house. This experimental conductor was made of iron fitted with a sharp steel point and rising seven or eight feet above the roof, the other end being buried five feet in the ground. In order to avoid useless personal displacement, Franklin, the economist of time, made an automatic annunciator similar to that devised by Gordon in 1745, and described by Watson in his _Sequel_, 1746, to apprize him of the advent of a good thunder-gust. Instead of making the rod of one continuous length, it was divided on the staircase, opposite his chamber door, the ends being drawn apart to a horizontal distance of a few inches. Screwing a pair of tiny gongs to the ends, he suspended between them a brass ball, held by a silk thread, to act as clapper. Whenever a thundercloud came hovering by, the bells began to ring, thereby summoning the philosopher to his "laboratory" on the staircase.

Franklin's rod, erected over his house in the summer of 1752, was evidently intended by him for experimental rather than protective purposes. There is no doubt whatever in his mind about the use of such pointed conductors for the protection of buildings and ships against the destructive effects of lightning. He expressly says, in an article printed in _Poor Richard's Almanack_ for 1753, that "It has pleased God in His infinite goodness to mankind, to discover to them the means of securing their habitations and other buildings from mischief by thunder and lightning. The method is this: provide a small iron rod (it may be made of the rod-iron used by the nailers), but of such a length, that one end being 3 ft. or 4 ft. in the moist ground, the other may be 6 ft. or 8 ft. above the highest part of the building. To the upper end of the rod fasten about a foot of brass-wire, the size of a common knitting needle, sharpened to a fine point; the rod may be secured to the house by a few small staples. If the house or barn be long, there may be a rod and point at each end, and a middling wire along the ridge from one to the other. A house thus furnished will not be damaged by lightning, it being attracted by the points and passing through the metal into the ground without hurting anything. Vessels also, having a sharp-pointed rod fixed on the top of their masts, with a wire from the foot of the rod reaching down round one of the shrouds to the water, will not be hurt by lightning."

It is well known, as Dr. Rotch, Director of the Blue Hill Observatory, recently pointed out, that the matter for these almanacs was prepared by Franklin himself under the pen-name of Richard Saunders. As the above passage appeared in the almanac for 1753, it is obvious that it must have been ready sometime toward the end of 1752. Furthermore, we know that it was actually in the hands of the printer in the middle of October of that year, for the _Pennsylvania Gazette_ of Oct. 19th says that the almanac was then in press and that it would be on sale shortly. Whence it follows that the year 1752 is the year of the invention of the lightning rod, and not 1753 or 1754 as often stated.

The instructions given by Franklin include all the essentials necessary for the erection of a lightning conductor. It may be made of iron or copper, flat or round, but must make good "sky" and good "earth." The former condition is secured by screwing to the top of the rod either copper or platinum terminals ending in sharp points; and the latter, by burying the lower end deep in moist soil. Between "sky" and "earth" the rod must be continuous.

The function of the rod is twofold, as Franklin well recognized, preventive and preservative. It prevents the stroke, under ordinary conditions, by the action of the points, which send off copious streams of air and dust particles electrified oppositely to that of the cloud. Even at a distance, the dangerous potential of the cloud is reduced by these convection currents and the stroke ordinarily averted. It is clear that ten points are more efficacious than one, and fifty more than five. Hence the number of points which we see distributed over the higher and more conspicuous parts of a building, all of which are carefully connected with the lightning conductor.

However well a building may theoretically be protected, conditions will occasionally arise when the rod will inevitably be struck; its preservative function then comes into play, by which it carries the energy of the disruptive discharge safely to earth.

The experience of more than a century shows that the lightning-rod affords protection in the great majority of cases; but it would be at least a mild exaggeration to say that it never failed, even when properly constructed.

At first, the erection of lightning-rods was opposed in the New World as well as in the Old: some based their opposition to the novelty on religious grounds, saying that, as lightning and thunder are tokens of divine wrath, it would be impious to interfere in any way with their manifestations. This objection was met by saying that for a parity of reason we should avoid protecting ourselves against the inclemencies of the weather.

Others opposed the use of the rods on the score that they invited or attracted the flash, which was answered by saying that they attract lightning as much as a rain-pipe attracts a shower, and no more.

The death of Professor Richmann, of the University of St. Petersburg, also tended to retard the adoption of the rod for the protection of buildings; but the invalidity of that objection became apparent when the circumstances of the accident became known. Richmann's conductor was like d'Alibard's (1751), an experimental rod, and as such was insulated at the lower end. It was, therefore, not a lightning-rod at all, inasmuch as it was not grounded. On August 6th, 1753, during a violent electric storm, Richmann happened to be close to his exploring rod observing the indications of a roughly-made electrometer, when a sharp thunder-clap was heard, and at the same instant a ball of fire was seen by Richmann's assistant to dart from the apparatus and strike the head of the unfortunate Professor, who fell over on a near-by chest and expired instantly. His assistant was stunned for a while. On regaining consciousness, he ran to the aid of the Professor; but it was too late, the body was lifeless.

In recording this tragic event, Priestley, the historian of electricity, says that, "It is not given to every electrician to die in so glorious a manner as the justly envied Richmann."

For one, we do not "envy" Professor Richmann's fate, and we think that the phrase "tragic manner" would better suit the circumstances of his death than the "glorious manner" of Dr. Priestley.

Risks of a similar character were taken by Franklin in Philadelphia, de Romas in Bordeaux, and d'Alibard's representative at Marly, when experimenting with kites and insulated rods; they took their lives in their hands, though they may not have thought so.

A few years ago, Sir William Preece said that a man might with impunity "clasp a copper rod an inch in diameter, the bottom of which is well connected with moist earth, while the top of it receives a violent flash of lightning; the conductor might even be surrounded by gunpowder in the heaviest storm without risk or danger."

It is not on record that the English electrician ever clasped a lightning conductor or even stood in close proximity to one during an electric storm. The above statement was as sensational as it was unwise and foolhardy. The neighborhood of a rod during a storm is a zone of danger, owing to the electrical surgings which are set up in it, and, as such, is to be avoided.

The death of Richmann caused quite a sensation throughout Europe, and naturally the lightning-rod came in for severe condemnation. Among the memoirs to which the fatality gave rise was one written in the heart of Moravia and addressed to the celebrated Euler, Director of the Academy of Sciences at Berlin. The writer was a monk of the Premonstratensian Order, whose field of labor was at Prenditz.

In the year 1754, this country priest made experiments with lightning conductors on a scale that transcended anything done in Paris, London or Philadelphia. The accompanying illustrations show the conductor which Divisch (also Diwisch) raised at Prenditz (also Brenditz) in the summer of that year to demonstrate publicly the efficacy of such apparatus in breaking up thunder-clouds and neutralizing the destructive energy pent up in their electric charges. Prenditz, it would appear, suffered severely from electric storms; and it was mainly for the safety of the locality that the good priest devoted himself with earnestness to the study of electrical phenomena.

As such a man deserves to live in the memory of posterity, we have sought out the leading facts of his career mainly from Father Alphons Zák, of Pernegg, in Lower Austria, a distinguished writer of the Order to which Divisch belonged, and have woven such details as we obtained from him and others into the simple narrative that follows.

Procopius Divisch (Prokop Diwisch) was born on Aug. 1st, 1696, at Helkowitz-Senftenberg in Bohemia. He spent his youth at Znaim, where he studied the humanities and philosophy at the College conducted by the Jesuit fathers in that Moravian city. In 1719, when in his twenty-third year, he decided to quit the common ways of the world in order to lead the higher life in the Premonstratensian Order at Kloster-Bruck. At the ripe age of 30, Divisch was ordained priest, in 1726, after which he taught philosophy and theology to classes of young aspirants to the ecclesiastical state. In 1733 he went to the University of Salzburg and won his double Doctorate in theology and philosophy. Three years later, in 1736, he was appointed parish priest of Prenditz, a small Moravian town on the road to Austerlitz, since of Napoleonic fame. Here he remained for five years, returning in 1741 to Bruck as Prior of the Kloster or monastery situated there. At the end of the Seven Years' War of the Austrian succession, he quitted Bruck, in 1745, for his parish at Prenditz, where he spent the last twenty years of his life in the pastoral ministrations of his sacred office and in electrical experimentation, of which he was very fond.

The curative property of the new agent was heralded throughout Europe about this time in terms of unmeasured praise. Some of Divisch's ailing parishioners, believing him to be an expert in electrical manipulation, applied to him for a little alleviation of their woes. The good-hearted priest did not turn them away, but thought it desirable to treat them to the therapeutic effect of such sparks as he could get from his homemade frictional machine. The results were various, depending probably on the confidence and imagination of the patient. Several remarkable cures seem to have been effected either by the electric spark or by the persuasive powers of the operator, or by both combined, with the result that people far and wide were divided in their opinion of the Pastor of Prenditz. Some physicians said that he was interfering with their practice, and even clergymen found fault with him for indulging in work which they thought unsuited to the cloth. A general impression, too, seems to have prevailed that his electrical experiments, especially those with his lightning conductor, were likely to prove harmful in more ways than one.

On the other hand, Divisch had admirers in high places, among whom were the Emperor Francis I. of Germany and his imperial consort, Maria Theresa. Having been invited to Vienna, Divisch repaired to the Austrian capital, where, with the aid of Father Franz, another electrical devotee, he gave a demonstration of the wonderful capability of the new form of energy before the grandees of the empire.

When he came to the electrical property of points, he showed their discharging power in a very original way, one which must have made his assistant uneasy for a while. At times, the machine worked by Father Franz gave excellent results; at others, it failed to generate. It was noticed by the critical few that when the machine failed, Divisch was close by; while when it worked normally, he was at some distance away. After a number of such alternations of success and failure which sorely perplexed the assistant, himself a man of renown in Vienna, Divisch explained the occurrence by saying, with a merry twinkle in his eye, that the failure of the machine to generate when he was close to it, apparently seeking out the cause of the breakdown, was due to a number of pin-like conductors which he had concealed for the purpose in his peruke and which neutralized the charge on the rotating generator!

The identity of the lightning of our skies with the artificial electricity of our laboratories was suspected by many before the middle of the eighteenth century. Englishmen like Hauksbee, Hall, Gray, Freke, Martin and Watson; Germans like Bose and Winkler, and Frenchmen like Abbé Nollet, had already published their suspicions and conjectures anent the matter. Franklin, too, had indicated twelve points of analogy between the two, in 1749, in his letter to Collinson, of London. Though he felt the force of the analogical agreement, he also felt that the matter could not be definitely settled without an appeal to experiment. Accordingly, he added: "The electric fluid is attracted by points; we do not know whether this property is in lightning. But since they agree in all the particulars wherein we can already compare them, is it not probable that they agree likewise in this? Let the experiment be made."

The experiment was made by Franklin himself by means of his kite two years later, in the summer of 1752, and also by the lightning-rod which he erected over his own house in the autumn of the same year. Doubtless Divisch heard of the marvelous effects obtained from d'Alibard's insulated conductor at Marly; at any rate, he erected in an open space at some little distance from his rectory at Prenditz, a lightning conductor 130 feet in height. As will be seen from the illustration, it bristled with points, for the Bohemian wizard argued rightly that five points would be more efficient than one, and 50 more efficacious than five. The weird-looking structure destined to ward off the lightning of heaven had no less than 325 well-distributed points. Lodge says in his _Lightning Conductors_: "Points to the sky are recognized as correct; only I wish to advocate more of them, any number of them, like barbed wire along ridges and eaves. If you want to neutralize a thunder-bolt, three points are not as effective as 3000." This was written in 1892; nearly 140 years before that date, we find a simple parish priest of an obscure village in Moravia using precisely such a multiple system of short, pointed conductors for the protection of life and property. This lightning conductor or _meteorological machine_, as Divisch called it, was erected by him at Prenditz on June 15th, 1754. On the top of the rod will be seen three light vanes, which were added in the interest of the feathered race in order to prevent incautious members from incurring the risk of electrocution by alighting on the apparatus during a storm. The wind whirled the vanes round like the cups of an anemometer, and thus kept the birds away from the zone of danger.

Several trials came to the electrical Pastor, and from quarters least expected. It happened in the second year after the erection of the apparatus that the summer was unusually dry, in consequence of which the crops failed almost completely. The farmers of the neighborhood were always suspicious of the strange-looking mast of Prenditz; and, be it said, that they were more than diffident about the propriety of interfering with the forces of nature even under the plea of protection, forgetting that they took great care to protect themselves against heat and cold, rain, snow and hail. The country ladies, no doubt, used parasols for one kind of protection; and the gentry, umbrellas for another. Anyhow, the people of Prenditz and the good folk around did not like the lofty mast, with its outstretched arms and bristling rows of suspicious-looking iron points connected to the ground by means of four long, heavy chains. For the nonce, they deemed their Pastor a queer fellow, who thought that he could avert the anger of heaven by the oddest kind of a machine which they ever laid their eyes on. It was argued in the councils of the hamlets that, whatever advantages Divisch claimed for his "machine," they were all of a negative character. It _prevented_ the lightning stroke, he said; that might be, but they did not _see_ the prevention. What they did see and keenly realize was the failure of their crops. That affected them very closely; and if, as they supposed, the apparatus of Prenditz had anything to do with it, the sooner they got rid of the machine the better. Divisch, it must be said, was liked by his people; but despite his popularity, the men of violence carried the day and the machine was doomed. Popular passion, excited by personal interest, got the better of the consideration due to the Pastor. On an appointed day, a band of bellicose farmers came down on the village and wrecked the apparatus which had cost the priest so much thought and manual labor and on which, knowingly and justly, he relied for the protection of the homesteads of his rustic flock.

This recalls a similar incident of mob violence which occurred at St. Omer in the north of France, where a manufacturer of that quaint old town, who had been in America and seen the usefulness of lightning conductors, proceeded to erect one over his own house. Hardly was it completed before the populace gathered together; and, when passion was sufficiently aroused by inflammatory remarks of the demagogues, the house was attacked and the conductor torn down. The manufacturer complained of the inaction of the "gardiens de la paix" and appealed to the courts to uphold his right to protect his home against lightning. He entrusted his case to a young, brilliant lawyer, as yet unknown to fame, but one destined to achieve unenviable notoriety during the revolutionary period. This, the first defender of the lightning-rod in a court of justice, was Robespierre.

The news of the untoward event soon reached the ears of the Premonstratensian's superiors at Kloster-Bruck; and, as they very wisely considered that the duty of a country priest is primarily to attend to the spiritual welfare of his people, rather than to invent machines for their protection against the bolts of heaven, they advised him to yield to the prejudice of his people and not reconstruct the objectionable apparatus.

Father Divisch accepted the friendly advice of his superiors and obeyed like a good Premonstratensian monk. The remains of the shattered "meteorological machine" were sent to the abbey at Bruck, where they could be seen for many years afterward. As a consequence of this act of vandalism, Divisch gave up experimenting with lightning-rods and with electricity itself. The villagers were satisfied, but the world at large lost the benefit that might accrue from the researches on atmospheric electricity which Divisch would have carried on during the remaining nineteen years of his life.

In giving up electricity, the disappointed priest turned his attention, first, to acoustics and then, practical man as he was, to the construction of musical instruments. It was not long before his genius brought out an orchestrion of wind and stringed instruments which was played like an organ with hands and feet, and which was capable of 130 different combinations. Prince Henry of Prussia offered a considerable sum of money for the invention, but Divisch died while the preliminaries of sale were arranging, and negotiations were broken off. The instrument remained for many years in the abbey at Bruck, where it was in daily use for the canonical office.

It is a curious coincidence that Franklin was also interested in musical instruments. He is credited with having devised an improved form of glass harmonica, one of which he presented to Queen Marie Antoinette.

Despite the bitter experience of Divisch, the introduction of lightning conductors into Italy was warmly advocated some years later by Padre Toaldo (1719-1797), an admirer and correspondent of Franklin. It was through his influence and personal activity that the magnificent thirteenth-century Cathedral of Siena was protected with lightning conductors after having been repeatedly struck during the centuries and seriously damaged. Toaldo published in 1774 his celebrated work on the protection of public edifices and private buildings against lightning; it contributed greatly to reassure public opinion on the value of "Franklinian rods," as the conductors were commonly called.

It is a matter of regret that Franklin used the words "the electric fluid is attracted by the points" in the passage quoted above, inasmuch as in the popular mind such "attraction" courts rather than averts danger. As already said, the rod no more "attracts" lightning than a rain-pipe attracts a downpour. Franklin knew very well the twofold function of his rods, the _preventive_, by which they tend to ward off the stroke by gradually and silently neutralizing the excessive energy of the cloud; and the other, the _preservative_, by which they convey the discharge safely to earth when struck. He even complains of people who concentrate their attention on the preventive function, forgetting the other entirely, adding that, "Wherever my opinion is examined in Europe, nothing is considered but the probability of these rods preventing a stroke, which is only a part of the use which I proposed for them; and the other part, their conducting a stroke which they may happen not to prevent, seems to be totally forgotten, though of equal importance and advantage." (1755.)

At a time, it was customary to make the rods rise to a considerable height above the building, in the belief that the diameter of the circle of protection was four times the height of the rod. Such a rule was an arbitrary one which facts soon showed to be unreliable and unsafe. It is now recognized that there is no such thing as a definite area of protection.

Were this a literary chapter, we would point out that either of the expressions "electric" storm or "lightning" storm is preferable to _thunder-storm_, because electricity or lightning is the active agent or principal feature of the impressive phenomenon. No one thinks of calling a hailstorm by the descriptive term of _patter-storm_; yet that would be just as logical and appropriate an appellative in one case as thunder-storm is in the other.

_Thunder-tube_ is certainly a startling misnomer applied to the long, narrow, glazed tubes formed in siliceous materials by the fervid heat of the flash, but not in any way by the sound-waves produced by the crash. _Thunder-bolt_ does not mean, despite the common opinion, a white-hot mass that accompanies the discharge; it is purely and simply the flash itself. A glowing mass that happens to come down in the track of the discharge is a _meteorite_, a body of cosmic not terrestrial origin, a visitor from space that chose the rarefied path of the flash for its descent to earth.

Again, there are no _thunder-clouds_ in nature, only electric clouds or lightning clouds; nor is there ever _thunder in the air_ save when the lightning breaks from cloud to cloud, or leaps from cloud to earth, or strikes from earth to cloud. But though thunder is only occasionally in the air, electricity always is. We have a normal electrical field in all seasons, times and places.

Though it is the lightning that kills and not the thunder, we would not, however, object to the following inscription which we found on a tombstone:

"Here lies (so and so), oh! what a wonder,
She was killed outright by a peal of thunder,"

because the suddenness of the peal may have given the aged lady a shock from which her failing heart was unable to recover.

We are well aware that such criticism of technical terms in popular use will have no reform effect whatever; because as long as people will say "the sun rises" and "the stars set," they will continue to speak of thunder-clouds and thunder-storms, thunder-tubes and thunder-bolts. Though containing an element of error, these expressions have the sanction of the centuries; and so, they have come to stay.

Returning to Divisch, that worthy priest and pioneer electrician died at Prenditz in his sixty-ninth year, on Dec. 21st, 1765, and was buried in the little churchyard where he had blessed many a grave during the twenty-five years of his ministration. A simple inscription marks the place of his interment, but a monument will soon be erected to his memory which will tell the passerby where sleeps the Premonstratensian pioneer of the lightning-rod.

About three months before the erection of his rod, _i.e._, in June, 1752, the idea occurred to Franklin that he could approach the region of clouds just as well by means of a common kite. Here are his words anent the novel and famous experiment with the "lightning kite":

"Make a small cross of two light strips of cedar, the arms so long
as to reach to the four corners of a large thin silk handkerchief
when extended; tie the corners of the handkerchief to the
extremities of the cross, so you have the body of a kite, which,
being properly accommodated with a tail, loop and string, will
rise in the air, like those made of paper; but this, being of silk,
is fitter to bear the wet and wind of a thunder-gust without
tearing. To the top of the upright stick is to be fixed a very
sharp-pointed wire, rising a foot or two above the wood. In the end
of the twine, next the hand, is to be held a silk ribbon, and where
the silk and cord join a key may be fastened. This kite is to be
raised when a thunder-gust appears to be coming on, and the person
who holds the string must stand within a door or window, or under
some cover, so that the silk ribbon may not be wet; and care must
be taken that the twine does not touch the frame of the door or
window. As soon as any of the thunder-clouds come over the kite,
the pointed wire will draw the electric fire from them, and the
kite with all the twine will be electrified, and the loose
filaments of the twine will stand out every way and be attracted by
an approaching finger. And when the rain has wetted the kite, so
that it can conduct the electric fire freely, you will find it
stream out plentifully from the key on the approach of your
knuckle. At this key the phial may be charged, and from electric
fire thus obtained spirits may be kindled and all the other
electric experiments be performed which are usually done by the
help of a rubbed glass globe or tube, and thereby the sameness of
the electric matter with that of lightning completely
demonstrated."[8]

Here we have the electric kite and manner of using it fully described without, however, any direct statement that the author himself actually experimented with it, although he does say that the experiment was successfully carried out. This is strictly true, but it may be safely contended that the precautions enumerated, the observation about the fibres of the cord, its improved conductivity when wetted by the rain and the like, all bespeak a knowledge of practical conditions that could be obtained only by way of experiment.

But if Franklin is not outspoken on the matter, some of his contemporaries are. Here is the kite incident as related in the _Continuation of the Life of Dr. Franklin_, by Dr. Stuber, a Philadelphian and intimate friend of the Franklins:

"While Franklin was waiting for the erection of a spire, it
occurred to him that he might have more ready access to the region
of clouds by means of a common kite. He prepared one by fastening
two cross-sticks to a silk handkerchief, which would not suffer so
much from the rain as paper. To the upright stick was affixed an
iron point. The string was, as usual, of hemp, except the lower
end, which was silk. Where the hempen string terminated, a key was
fastened. With this apparatus, on the appearance of a thunder-gust
approaching, he went out into the commons, accompanied by his son,
to whom alone he communicated his intentions, well knowing the
ridicule which, too generally for the interest of science, awaits
unsuccessful experiments in philosophy. He placed himself under a
shed to avoid the rain. His kite was raised. A thunder-cloud passed
over it. No sign of electricity appeared. He almost despaired of
success, when suddenly he observed the loose fibres of his string
move toward an erect position. He now presented his knuckle to the
key and received a strong spark. Repeated sparks were drawn from
the key, the phial was charged, a shock given, and all the
experiments made which are usually performed with electricity."

This testimony of a man who enjoyed the unlimited confidence of Franklin has a very matter-of-fact ring about it; there is not a note of uncertainty, not a word indicating doubt that his friend and neighbor went out to the fields accompanied by his robust son, carrying along with them a queer assortment of electrical impedimenta. This son, William by name, was twenty-two years of age at the time; and as he died in 1813, eleven years after the publication of Dr. Stuber's biographical sketch, he had ample time to contradict the kite story if instead of being a fact it were a mere romance. Nor is this all, for Dr. Stuber's narrative, given above, appears textually in the "Memoirs of the Life and Writings of Benjamin Franklin," edited by his grandson William Temple Franklin. The Doctor, be it remarked, was very fond of his grandson, whose "faithful service and filial attachment" he warmly commends in several of his letters, and whose regard for the memory of the statesman led him to undertake the task of preparing his works for publication. On page 211, Vol. I., he tells us that "As Dr. Franklin mentioned his electrical discoveries only in a very transient way, and as they are of a most important and interesting nature, it has been thought that a short disgression on the subject would be excusable and not void of entertainment. For this purpose the following account of the same, including the first experiment of the lightning kite, as given by Dr. Stuber, is here given."

In these concluding lines we have the testimony of Franklin's grandson to the authenticity of the "lightning kite" story. Moreover, the account as given by Stuber evidently meets with his cordial approval, since he transcribes it verbatim; and, as if to invest the quotations with unimpeachable authority, he tells us in the preface, p. viii., that "they deserve entire dependence because of the accuracy of the information imparted."

A word now from Priestley, also one of Franklin's intimate friends. In his _History of Electricity_, fourth edition, p. 171, he says that "Dr. Franklin, astonishing as it must have appeared, continued actually to bring lightning from the heavens by means of an electrical kite which he raised when a storm of thunder was perceived to be coming on." Then follows a description taken almost word for word from Dr. Stuber, whom he styles "the best authority on the subject."

If, perchance, the above testimony should not be deemed conclusive and final, all lingering doubt must be removed by Franklin's own words, for in his _Autobiography_, after briefly referring to the experiments made in France with pointed conductors, he adds: "I will not swell this narrative with an account of that capital experiment (the pointed conductor), nor of the infinite pleasure which I received on the success of a similar one I made soon after with a kite at Philadelphia, as both are to be found in histories of electricity."

Here, at last, we have Franklin's own word for it, that he made the kite experiment, and that he made it "soon after" the demonstration of his electrical discoveries which M. de Lor gave, by request, before Louis XV. and his court.

The "lightning kite" is, therefore, not a myth, as some have ventured to think, having been fully described by Franklin in his letter to Peter Collinson, dated October 19th, 1752, and having been made by him some time in June of the same year.

We have now to see whether Franklin was anticipated in the idea of the kite or in its use for electrical purposes. There are some who hold that he was anticipated by M. de Romas as to the idea, but not the actual experiment; while others credit the French magistrate with both. Let us examine the evidence which there is for these opinions.

M. de Romas lived in Nérac, a small town some seventy-five miles south of Bordeaux. He was a member of the bar; and at the time of the Franklinian furor in Europe was a judge of the district court. He took an interest in scientific matters quite unusual for men of his profession, proceeding, as soon as he had read of the efficiency of pointed conductors, to study their behavior for himself. His experiments met with surprising success, and were as much admired by the local savants as they were dreaded by the common folk. Letters containing his observations were regularly sent to the Academy of Bordeaux, where they were read with lively interest on account of their character and novelty. From the published _Actes_ of that body we learn that the first kite used by de Romas was raised by him on May 14th, 1753. Disappointment, however, attended this attempt, no electrical manifestation being observed, although rain fell and wetted the hempen cord. The magistrate of Nérac attributed his failure to the resistance of the string; and, like a good electrician, surprisingly good for the time, determined to improve its conductivity by wrapping a fine copper wire round its entire length. When this long and tedious operation was completed, he went out again to the fields on a stormy day, when, assisted by two of his friends, he raised the kite and soon got torrents of sparks from the wire-wound cord. This was on June 7th, 1753. The experiment was repeated from time to time, both for his own satisfaction and that of his assistants as well as for the entertainment of his ever-growing class of admiring spectators. Kites 7-1/2 ft. long and 3 ft. wide were raised 400 and even 550 ft. above ground when flashes nine feet long and an inch thick were drawn, so the account says, with the report of a pistol. The effect must have been truly spectacular. The kite was held by a silk ribbon fastened to the end of the hempen cord.

It is then a matter of history vouched for by the _Actes_ of the Academy of Bordeaux that May 14th, 1753, is the day on which the first use of a kite for electrical purposes was made in France; on the other hand, it is to be remembered that Franklin flew his "lightning kite" in June, 1752, almost a year earlier. As far, then, as the _fact_ is concerned, the Philadelphia philosopher was not anticipated by the Justice of Nérac.

From facts let us pass to writings. Franklin's letter to Collinson, in which he describes the electric kite, is dated October 19th, 1752, while that of M. de Romas, on which the claim for priority is founded, was addressed by him to the Academy of Bordeaux on July 12th, 1752, three months earlier. After a lengthy and interesting account of his experiments with pointed conductors, he concludes his communication as follows:

"C'est là, Monsieur, ce qu'il y a de plus important, car j'aurais bien d'autres particularités à vous communiquer; mais ma lettre, devenue d'une excessive longueur, m'avertit de finir. Je me réserve de mettre au jour la dernière (quoiquelle ne soit qu'un jeu d'enfant) lorsque je me serai assuré de la réussite par l'expérience que je me propose d'en faire et que je ne negligerai pas."

In English this would read: "Such, Sir, are the more important points which I have to communicate, and to which many others might be added, were it not for the excessive length of this letter, which warns me that it is time to bring it to a close. I will, however, give publicity to the last one of all (though it is only a child's plaything) as soon as I shall have assured myself of its success by an experiment which I have devised and which I shall not fail to make."

The words in brackets--"though it is only a child's plaything"--are all important, for it is on them and on them alone that the claim for priority has been put forth and maintained. It will be seen that the word kite (_cerf-volant_), does not occur in the letter, so that there can be no absolute certainty as to the nature of the _jeu d'enfant_ which the author had in mind, though it is very likely that the kite was meant. In his _Mémoire sur les moyens de se garantir de la foudre dans les maisons_, he says, after describing some experiments that he had made with pointed rods: "Néanmoins toujours plein du désir d'augmenter le volume du feu électricque, il fallut chercher le moyen pour y parvenir. En conséquence, je me plongeai dans de nouvelles méditations. Enfin une demi-heure après, tout au plus, le cerf-volant des enfants se présenta tout à coup à mon esprit, et il me tardait de la mettre à l'épreuve. Par malheur, je n'en avais pas le temps." In English: "Being anxious to augment the quantity of electric fire, I began to think of some means to effect my purpose, and soon became quite absorbed with the subject. Not more than half an hour elapsed before the idea of the kite suddenly occurred to me, and I longed for an opportunity to try it; but unfortunately I had not sufficient leisure at the time." The work in which this passage occurs was published at Bordeaux in 1776, shortly after the death of the author. De Romas always maintained that he did not borrow the idea of the kite from any one, but that it occurred to him while pursuing his experiments with pointed conductors.

It must be admitted that de Romas could not have been acquainted with Franklin's performance of June, 1752, when he sent to the Bordeaux Academy his letter of July 12th, of the same year, for we cannot suppose that in an age of sailing vessels such news would cross the Atlantic and reach an obscure provincial town in the southwest of France in the space of a month. On the other hand, it is equally improbable that a vague allusion to the electrical use of a kite made at Nérac on July 12th, by a man entirely unknown to fame as was de Romas, should be talked of on the banks of the Schuylkill before October 19th, the date of Franklin's memorable letter to Collinson. Moreover, the "_jeu d'enfant_" allusion as well as the very use of the kite by de Romas failed so completely to attract the attention of scientific men of his own country that he frequently and bitterly complained down to the end of his life, in 1776, of their persistent neglect of his claims to recognition.

From all this, we conclude:

(_a_) That Franklin's "lightning kite" is not a myth, the experiment having been made by him in June, 1752, and fully described by him in a memorable letter written to Peter Collinson, of London, dated October 19th of the same year:

(_b_) That de Romas independently had the idea of using a kite for electrical purposes as early as July 12th, 1752; but that he did not carry out his idea until May 14th, 1753; and, furthermore, that he did not succeed in getting any electrical manifestations until June 7th, 1753, his success then being due, at least in part, to the clever idea which he had of entwining the cord with a fine copper wire. Therefore, _suum cuique_.

In conclusion, we would say that the cardinal and enduring achievements of Franklin are:

(1) His rejection of the two-fluid theory of electricity and substitution of the one-fluid theory; (2) his coinage of the appropriate terms _positive_ and _negative_, to denote an excess or a deficit of the common electric fluid; (3) his explanation of the Leyden jar, and, notably, his recognition of the paramount role played by the glass or dielectric; (4) his experimental demonstration of the identity of lightning and electricity; and (5) his invention of the lightning conductor for the protection of life and property, together with his clear statement of its preventive and protective functions.

If Franklin was well acquainted with electrical phenomena, it is safe to say that his knowledge of human nature was wider and deeper still. This appears continually in his _Autobiography_, in his political writings, in business transactions and diplomatic relations.

On one occasion, while his re-election as clerk of the General Assembly was pending, a certain member made a long speech against him. Franklin listened with calm, dignified composure; and after his election, instead of resenting the opposition of the offending member, he determined that it would be better to disarm his antagonism and win his friendship. For this purpose he sent the assemblyman a courteously-worded request for the loan of a very scarce book which was in his library. The book was sent to Franklin, who returned it within a week with a note of thanks, which had the desired effect. Commenting on the event, our philosopher says that "it is more profitable to remove than to resent inimical proceedings."

Some of Franklin's views on general political economy are tersely set forth in the following passage: "There seem, in fine, to be but three ways for a nation to acquire wealth. The first is by _war_, as the Romans did in plundering their conquered neighbor; this is _robbery_. The second is by _commerce_, which is generally _cheating_. The third is by _agriculture_, the only _honest way_ wherein man receives a real increase of the seed thrown into the ground, in a kind of continual miracle wrought by the hand of God in his favour, as a reward for his innocent life and virtuous industry."

Franklin asserts his religious convictions in many passages of his "Autobiography" as well as on many occasions of his public life. Shocked by "Tom" Paine's views of fundamental religious truths, he says: "I have read your manuscript with some attention. By the argument which it contains against a particular Providence, though you allow a general Providence, you strike at the foundation of all religion. For, without the belief of a Providence that takes cognizance of, guards and guides, and may favour particular persons, there is no motive to worship a Deity, to fear His displeasure, or to pray for His protection. I will not enter into any discussion of your principles, though you seem to desire it. At present, I shall only give you my opinion that, though your reasonings are very subtile and may prevail with some readers, you will not succeed so as to change the general sentiments of mankind on that subject; and the consequence of printing this piece will be a great deal of odium drawn upon yourself, mischief to you, and no benefit to others. He that spits against the wind, spits in his own face."

This aphorism recalls the ripe wisdom contained in many of the sayings of "Poor Richard," for Franklin was a deep thinker, shrewd observer and quaint expositor of his own philosophy. Continuing, he fleeces Paine in the following noble words: "But were you to succeed, do you imagine any good would be done by it? You yourself may find it easy to live a virtuous life without the assistance afforded by religion; you having a clear perception of the advantages of virtue and the disadvantages of vice, and possessing strength of resolution sufficient to enable you to resist common temptations. But think how great a portion of mankind consists of weak and ignorant men and women, and of inexperienced, inconsiderate youth of both sexes, who have need of the motives of religion to restrain them from vice, to support them to virtue, and retain them in the practice of it till it becomes _habitual_, which is the great point for its security. And perhaps you are indebted to her originally, that is, to your religious education for the habits of virtue upon which you now justly value yourself. You might easily display your excellent talents of reasoning upon a less hazardous subject, and thereby obtain a rank with our most distinguished authors. For among us, it is not necessary, as among the Hottentots, that a youth, to be raised into the company of men, should prove his manhood by beating his mother."

Franklin concludes this magnificent expression of his religious faith by the solemn warning: "I would advise you, therefore, not to attempt unchaining the tiger, but to burn this piece before it is seen by any other person; whereby you will save yourself a great deal of mortification by the enemies it may raise against you, and perhaps a good deal of regret and repentance. If men are so wicked _with_ religion, what would they be _without_ it?"

Franklin's belief in the cardinal doctrine of the resurrection of the body is well expressed in the epitaph which he wrote for himself in 1728, when in his twenty-second year. It reads

The Body
Of
Benjamin Franklin
Printer,
(Like the cover of an old book
Its contents torn out
And stript of its lettering and gilding)
Lies here, food for worms.
But the work shall not be lost
For it will (as he believed) appear once more
In a new and more elegant edition
Revised and corrected
By
The Author.

However, when the statesman and philosopher was laid at rest beside his wife in the Cemetery of Christ Church, Philadelphia, in 1790, the marble slab which marked the grave bore no other inscription than Franklin's name and the date of his death.

Appreciating the great loss which the country sustained by the death of Franklin, Congress ordered a general mourning for one month throughout the fourteen States of the Union; and the French National Assembly decreed three days of public mourning at the instance of Mirabeau, who said in his address that "The genius that gave freedom to America and scattered torrents of light upon Europe, has returned to the bosom of the Divinity. Antiquity would have erected altars to that mortal who for the advantage of the human race, embracing both heaven and earth in his vast mind, knew how to subdue both thunder and tyranny."

The fugitive apprentice boy of 1723 turned out to be one of the most esteemed and eminent Americans of his day. Of an even temper and well-balanced mind, he was plain in dress, simple in manner, easy of approach and friendly to all. The success which he achieved during his long career of eighty-five years, shows what may be done by seizing the opportunities which come to every one, by concentration of mind, application to duty and tenacity of purpose. He attained distinction in science, in letters, in diplomacy; he stood for good government and true liberty. His name is a household one in his own country, where monuments, institutions and cities will bear it down to posterity.

ADDENDA.

_The Lightning Kite._

Fully described by Franklin in a letter to Peter Collinson, of London, dated October 19th, 1752.

Stuber in his "Continuation of the Life of Dr. Franklin," and Priestley in his "History of Electricity," affirm that Franklin made the experiment in June, 1752.

Franklin's son, William, never denied the story, although he figured in it as an active character.

William Temple Franklin, who prepared for publication his grandfather's works, gives the kite story almost verbatim from Stuber.

Finally, Franklin himself states that he made the experiment: Memoirs, Vol. I., p. 164.

_Franklin and de Romas._

June, 1752: Franklin raises his kite in a field near Philadelphia.

July 12, 1752: Letter of de Romas to the Academy of Bordeaux, in which a probable reference is made to the kite as _un jeu d'enfant_.