the electric fluid,
sent up his kite made of an old silk handkerchief. A wire extended from
the upright stick of the kite, and this was connected with the cord,
which when wet acted as a good conductor. The part of the cord held in
his hand was of silk, and between this and the wet hempen cord a key
was inserted and connected with a Leyden jar. How successful the
experiment proved to be, all the world knows. Somehow all the important
events of Franklin's life are dramatic and picturesque, and this scene,
especially, of the philosopher in the storm drawing down the very
thunderbolts of heaven has always had a fascination for the popular
mind. The detailed story of the experiment became public only through
Franklin's conversation with his friends. When he learned that his
theory had been previously verified in France, his modesty was so great
that in writing he simply told how the experiment might be performed
with a kite, never that he himself had actually accomplished it. In
consequence of this discovery he was at once elected a member of the
Royal Society of London, Yale and Harvard gave him the honorary degree
of master of arts, and everywhere he was celebrated as the foremost
philosopher of the day.

When the time comes we shall see that Franklin's scientific fame was a
real aid to him in his diplomatic career; now we must turn our eyes
backward and trace from the beginning his slow rise in political and
civic power. And it is a peculiar feature of the day and of Franklin's
individual character that many of his reforms took their start in the
gayety of social intercourse. There was nothing morose, nothing stern,
in our genial philosopher. Though always temperate, his vivacity and
easy politeness made him welcome in any merry company of the day. He
could sing with the best of the young blades and even compose his own
ditties; and one of these songs, "The Old Man's Wish," he tells us he
sang at least a thousand times. The chorus of the song is
characteristic enough to be quoted:--

"May I govern my passions with absolute sway,
Grow wiser and better as my strength wears away,
Without gout or stone, by gentle decay;"

and another ballad in praise of his wife still has a kind of
popularity:--

"Of their Chloes and Phyllises poets may prate,
I sing my plain country Joan,
These twelve years my wife, still the joy of my life,
Blest day that I made her my own."

Franklin's first public