A CONVERSATION OCCASIONED BY
A THUNDERSTORM.

LAURA. Oh, mamma, are you not afraid? MOTHER. Why should I, my dear? Besides, the thunder-cloud is very distant.

LAURA. How can you know, mamma?

MOTHER. By observing the space of time between seeing the lightning and hearing the thunder. Light, you know, comes more quickly to the eye than sound to the ear. The difference is perhaps greater than you would think. Light travels 12,000,000 of miles in a minute, and sound but 13 miles in a minute, or 1142 feet in a second. If between the flash and the report I can count but three seconds, I know that the cloud is only two-thirds of a mile distant; if four seconds, rather more than five-sixths of a mile; if five, a mile and about one-twelfth; if six, a mile and one-third; or to be more accurate, you can multiply 1142 by the number of seconds.

LAURA. That is very nice to know. But what is lightning?

MOTHER. I will try to explain it to you. You remember seeing an electrical machine, and feeling the shock lightning and thunder are effects of electricity in the clouds. Certain changes in the form of substances have been found to produce electricity. Thus, when watery vapour is condensed, the cloud formed is usually more or less electrical; and the

earth being in an opposite state, by having its electricity drawn from it, a discharge takes place, when the cloud comes within a certain distance of the earth, or when it meets with another cloud less electrical than itself. The discharge is lightning, and the undulation, or wavy motion in the air, produced by it is thunder. Do you understand this?

LAURA. Oh, yes; a flash of lightning is only some of the electric power passing from the clouds to the earth, or from one cloud to another, and thunder is the noise that the electric power makes in passing. But who discovered that lightning is electricity?

MOTHER. From the first time the electric light was observed, many persons had remarked its similarity to lightning; but Dr. Franklin is commonly said to have been the first who actually drew lightning from the clouds, and performed electrical experiments with it. This was in 1750, by means of an electrical kite.

LAURA. But was not this very dangerous?

MOTHER. Extremely so. Mr. Richman, professor at Petersburgh, about three years after Dr. Franklin, made a similar attempt, and lost his life. We are indebted to Dr. Franklin for the discovery that pointed bodies draw off the electric fluid more powerfully than any other.

LAURA. Then is that the reason we have conductors to our house?

MOTHER. It is; but there have been many disputes, first, as to whether conductors should be used at all; and, secondly, as to whether they should be pointed or not. Dr. Franklin imagined that with a number of metallic rods, of sufficient height, the electric fluid might be silently drawn from the clouds to the earth

without damage; but this appears fanciful. As to buildings, I believe it is now generally agreed, that they are best secured by metallic conductors from the roof to the ground, as leaden or copper gutters, with spouts into the ground. Pointed rods serve to discharge the cloud at the spot; but this ought not to be invited.

LAURA. Which is the worst kind of lightning?

MOTHER. The most formidable and destructive kind of lightning is when it appears like balls of fire. Wherever they fall, much mischief is the effect of their explosion. I recollect once seeing this appearance in a wild moor in the north-west of Cumberland. The effect was beautiful, but as I was in an open carriage the danger was great. The next to this in its destructive effects, is the zig-zag kind. The species unaccompanied by thunder, whose flashes are indistinct, and whose form cannot be easily observed, seldom does much mischief. The colour of lightning also shews its power to do hurt; the palest and brightest flashes being the most destructive in their effects.

LAURA. And what is the safest place in a thunderstorm?

MOTHER. The middle of the room, sitting on one chair, and placing the feet on the other. But you must not sit under a metallic lustre, suspended by a chain. It is still safer to bring two or three mattresses or beds into the room, and put the chairs on them; for not being conductors, the lightning will not pass through them. A hammock, hung with silken cords, equally distant from all the sides of a room, is considered safe. Dr. Priestley says, the place of most absolute safety must be the cellar, particularly the

middle of it; for when a person is lower than the surface of the earth the lightning must strike it before it can reach him. In the fields, the best place is within a few yards of a tree, but not quite under it.

LAURA. Is that all, mamma?

MOTHER. I must not forget to tell you, that you should never, during a thunder-storm, have any thing made of metal on your person, or hold any knife, &c. in your hand. You should also avoid being near the bell-rope. Perhaps the expedient of the Emperor Augustus would amuse you: he always carried about with him, as a kind of talisman against lightning, a piece of the skin of a sea-calf, and at the least appearance of a tempest sheltered himself in the most retired and secret place.

LAURA. The Emperor Augustus? was he so timid? MOTHER. I think Augustus was naturally very timid. He had, however, some reason to fear lightning, for he had once a very narrow escape. In an expedition against the Cantabri, who inhabited that part of Spain now called Biscay, the lightning struck his litter, and killed a slave carrying a light before him. In gratitude for his preservation, he dedicated a temple to Jupiter, the thunderer. I remember a still more narrow escape of another crowned head: Amurath the fourth emperor of Turkey, while asleep one afternoon, had his clothes burnt by lightning, while he himself was not in the least injured. LAURA. How very curious!

MOTHER. It is indeed; lightning has been known to melt a sword without injuring the scabbard, and I have heard even to break the bones, without injuring the flesh.

LAURA. When you know and hear so much of its danger, do you think it wrong to be frightened?

MOTHER. It would be very wrong to pass so sweeping a censure; I think in some cases fear of lightning is mere habit; in others it is constitutional weakness. The only true basis of real courage is trust in the protection of the Almighty-in that God by whom we know all things are ordered for our good. But having seen pious and excellent persons suffer much from apprehension during a thunder storm, I am most anxious to habituate you, my dear Laura, to view with tranquillity these great convulsions of nature.

LAURA. But why are there storms at all, mamma? MOTHER. You may be sure that all things are ordered for the best by an all-ruling Providence; with all the uses of storms we are probably not acquainted, but I remember a passage in Archdeacon Paley, which may prove to you that they have their use. After naming the various causes which corrupt the air, as flame, respiration, animal putrefaction, &c. he speaks of the methods used to restore it: one of these is agitation. "The foulest air shaken in a bottle with water for a sufficient length of time, recovers a great degree of its purity. Here, then, allowing for the scale upon which nature works, we see the salutary effects of storms and tempests. The yesty waves which confound the heaven and sea are doing the very thing which is done in the bottle.” Nothing can be of greater importance to living creatures than the salubrity of their atmosphere. It ought to reconcile us therefore to those agitations of the elements, of which we sometimes deplore the consequences, to know that they tend powerfully to