him but his son-for with his usual prudence, he communicated his design to no other person, lest he might fail. His son assisted him to raise the kite by the hempen cord-to the end of the cord he fastened a key. Below the key, a silk string secured his kite to a post.

Franklin then waited under the shed. A thunder cloud passed over without producing any effect. For some time there were no signs of electricity. Franklin began to despair, when he observed some loose threads of the hempen string rise and stand erect, exactly as if repelled from each other by being charged with electricity. He presented his knuckle to the key, and drew from it the well known electrical spark. His emotion was so great that he heaved a deep sigh, and he felt that he could at that moment willingly have died. Indeed, as he well knew, his life was greatly hazarded by this bold experiment, for, as the rain increased, the cord became a better conductor, and the key gave out its electricity copiously. Had the hemp been thoroughly wet, it is believed he would not have survived.

But Franklin lived to make many other similar experiments. He brought down the lightning into his house by means of an iron rod, and leisurely applied it to various uses for perfecting his theory. To him we owe the simple, cheap, and effective plan of preserving buildings from lightning-by means of a pointed metallic rod raised above the building, and communicating at the lower end with the earth. This lightning rod ought to be in use far more generally than it is.

WASHINGTON.

My young readers have heard of Washington, the illustrious American who conducted that war of independence which terminated in England's loss of a valuable colony, and in the first establishment of the great and free nation of America.

But you are perhaps not distinctly aware of what was the peculiar value of the life and deeds of Washington, which have so elevated him in the esteem of posterity. There have been greater soldiers, although his valour alone would have rendered him eminent.

When the house of Burgesses in Virginia, passed a vote of thanks for some military ser

vices of young Washington, and he vainly attempted to stammer forth his acknowledgments, "Sit down, Mr. Washington," said the president; "your modesty equals your valour, and that surpasses the power of any language that I possess."

There have been greater statesmen, and yet America has reason to look with pride to his part in the civil establishment of the state.

But Washington stands first among warriors and statesmen as an enlightened republican patriot, as a great champion of the people independent of all titles, forms, and ceremonies.

He undertook to lead the war of independence in these simple, straightforward words. "I beg leave to assure the Congress that, as no pecuniary consideration could have tempted me to accept this arduous employment at the expense of my domestic ease and happiness, I do not wish to make any profit from it. I will keep a strict account of my expenses; those I do not doubt you will discharge, and that is all I desire."

It is quite certain, he accepted the task solely to benefit his country. "I shall rely," said he,

"confidently on that Providence which has heretofore preserved and been bountiful to me."

In this spirit, pious, humble, modest, yet firm and valiant in the post of danger, he carried through the momentous war. And at the close he bore his honours with the same meekness and simplicity in which he had commenced his task. It was an affecting scene, when he retired from public office into private life amidst the blessings of the joyful people. He refused even a grant of money for his services. "At length," he writes to Lafayette, "I am become a private citizen on the banks of the Potomac."

"Envious of none, I am determined to be pleased with all; and this, my dear friend, being the order for my march, I will move gently down the stream of life, until I sleep with my fathers."