"I would then say lightning was electricity, and that it could be controlled, and that human life might be protected from the thunderbolt." "But would not that thwart the providence of God?" "No, it would merely cause a force of Nature to obey its own laws so as to protect life instead of destroying it." The sky darkened. The sun went out. The sea birds flew inland and screamed. The field birds stood panting on the shrubs with drooping wings. A rattling thunder peal crossed the sky. The wind began to rise, and to cause the early blasted young fruit to fall in the orchards. The waves on the Delaware curled white. "Let us go to the cattle-shed," said Father Franklin. "I have been laughed at all my life, and do not care to have my neighbors tell the story of my experiment to others if I should fail." The two went together to the cattle-shed on the green meadow. The wind was roaring in the distance. The poultry were running home, and the cattle were seeking the shelter of the trees. The cloud was now overhead. Dark sheets of rain in the horizon looked like walls of carbon reared against the sky. The lightning was sharp and frequent. There came a vivid flash followed by a peal of thunder that shook the hills. "The cloud is overhead now," said Franklin. He ran out into the green meadow and threw the kite against the wind. It rose rapidly and was soon in the sky, drifting in the clouds that seemed full of the vengeful fluid. At the termination of the hempen cord dangled the key, and the silk end was wound around the philosopher's hand. The young man took charge of a Leyden jar which he had brought to the shed, in which to collect electricity from the clouds, should the experiment prove successful. The cloud came on in its fury. The rain began to fall. Franklin and his son stood under the shed. The air seemed electrified, but no electricity appeared in the hempen string. Franklin presented his knuckle to the key, but received no spark. What was that? The hempen string began to bristle like the hair of one electrified. Was it the wind? Was it electricity? Benjamin Franklin now touched the key with thrilling emotion, while his son looked on with an excited face. It was a moment of destiny not only to the two experimenters in the dashing rain, but to the world. If Franklin should receive a spark from the key, it would change the currents of the world's events. Flash! It came clear and sharp. The heavens had responded to law--to the command of the human will guided by law. Again, another spark. The boy touches the key. He, too, is given the evidence that has been given to his father. The two looked at each other. "Lightning is electricity," said Silence Dogood. "It can be drawn away from points of danger; no one need be struck by lightning if he will protect himself." "God himself," once said a writer, "could not strike one by lightning if one were insulated, without violating his own laws."