Man knows not what electricity is; yet, by an attentive observance of its effects, he avails himself of the power existing in an unknown source, and produces marvellous results. When the Grecian philosopher, Thales, sat rubbing a piece of amber, and watching the attraction of small particles of matter to its surface, he little knew of the mighty power that was then whispering to him its offer to serve mankind. And when Franklin, with the aid of a boy's plaything, drew down an electric current from the clouds, and caught a spark upon the knuckles of his hand, even he little conjectured that the time was so near when that strange element, which sent its messenger to him along the string of a kite, would become one of man's most submissive servants.
So many great results have sprung from the careful observation of the simplest phenomena, that we should never pass over inattentively the most trifling thing that offers itself to our examination. Nature, in her revelations, never seeks to startle mankind. The formation of a rock, and the elaboration of a truth, are alike the work of ages. It was the simple blackening of silver by the sun's rays which led to the discovery of the chemical agency of light. It was the falling of an apple which pointed Newton to the discovery of the laws of gravitation. It was the force of steam, observed as it issued from beneath the lid of a kettle, that led to the invention of the steam-engine. And it is said of Jacquard, that he invented the loom which so materially aided the commerce of nations, while watching the motions of his wife's fingers, as she plied her knitting. As great discoveries spring from such small beginnings, who among us may not be the herald of some great truth—the founder of some world-wide benefaction?
That the area of discovery has not perceptibly narrowed its limits, is evident from the fact that the greatest elements in nature are still mysteries to man. And though it may not be within the power of a finite being to unravel the chain of wonders that enfold the works of an infinite God,—still it is evident, from the progress which discovery has made, and from the good which discovery has done, that God does invite and encourage the human mind to contemplate the workings of Divine power, and to pursue its manifestations in every element, and in every direction.
The wonderful force of electricity astonishes us all the more when we view it in contrast with that equally wonderful element, light. We have seen that light travels with a velocity of 192,000 miles in a second, but that it falls upon a delicate balance so gently, that it produces no perceptible effect. As far as we know the nature of electricity, it is even more ethereal than light; yet, while the ether of light falls harmlessly and imperceptibly—even with the momentum of a flight of ninety-five millions of miles, the ether of electricity, bursting from a cloud only five hundred yards distant, will split massive stones, level tall towers with the dust, strike majestic trees to the ground, and instantly extinguish the life of man! Why does the one ether come divested of all mechanical force, while that which seems to be even more ethereal than it, is capable of exerting the mightiest force over material things? Does it not appear that the Creator of the universe has established these paradoxes of power to testify his Omnipotence—to show to man that with Him all things are possible; and that, in the grand cosmicism of the universe, every attribute of Omnipotence has been fulfilled?
"And the seventh angel poured out his vial into the air; and there came a great voice out of the temple of heaven, from the throne, saying, It is done."—Rev. xvi.
Let us now consider man's relation to this Omnipotence. He sees that electricity smites the tall edifice, and observes that in doing so it displays a choice of a certain substance through which it passes harmlessly, and that its violence is manifested only when its path is interrupted. Man, taking advantage of this preference of electricity for a particular conductor, stretches out an arm of that substance, and points it upwards to the clouds; electricity accepts the invitation, and passes harmlessly to the earth. But this not all: man learns by observation that electricity resides in all matter; that it may be collected or dispersed; that it travels along a good conductor at the rate of half-a-million of miles in a second of time; he constructs a battery, a kind of scientific fortress, in which he encamps the great warrior of nature; and then, laying down a conducting wire, he liberates the mighty force: but its flight must be on the path which man has defined, and its journey must cease at the terminus which man has decreed, where, by a simple contrivance of his ingenuity (the movements of a magnetic needle), the electric current is made to deliver whatever message of importance he desires to convey. Thus, the element which in an instant might deprive man of life, is subdued by him, and made the obedient messenger of his will.