EFFECTS OF A STROKE OF LIGHTNING, WHICH OCCURRED ON THE 13TH OF APRIL, 1832.

ONE of the most awful, and at the same time grand phenomena of nature, is exhibited, when the electric fluid has accumulated in the upper regions of the atmosphere, and darts with destructive and deadly violence to the earth. A thunderstorm scarcely passes over any part of the country, but we hear of buildings destroyed, stacks burnt, or lives lost and such is the rapidity with which the fluid approaches and passes through the human body, in most cases depriving the individual of life, that before he can even think of guarding against the stroke, he is hurried into an eternal world. Any facts, therefore, relating so this direful phenomenon, must be at all times interesting, not only to the philosopher; but also to the general reader: we shall, therefore, without further remark, introduce an accurate statement of facts, relative to a stroke of lightning which occurred on the 13th of April last, a little distance from Tenbury; written by Benjamin Boddington, Esq. of Badger Hall, and which Mr. Faraday has communicated to the world through the medium of the Philosophical Magazine.

It appears from the statement, that Mr. and Mrs. F. Boddington were riding in the barouche seat of their post-chariot; when rain beginning to fall, and distant thunder being heard, Mr. Boddington put up an umbrella; but perceiving it was an old one, and somewhat torn, he gave it to his wife, to hold over her bonnet, while he put up another. While extending the latter, a flash of lightning struck them both senseless, threw the horses on the ground, and cast the post-boy to a considerable distance the servants who were inside the carriage were unhurt. Mrs. Boddington stated, that she neither saw the flash, nor heard the thunder; but her first consciousness was the feeling of suffocation: she felt, however, that they had been struck by lightning.

The passage of the electric fluid, as connected with Mrs. Boddington, was traced most distinctly. It struck the umbrella she held in her hand, which was made of cotton, and had lost the ferule that is usually placed at the end of the stick; so that there was no point to attract the spark. This it literally shivered to pieces, the springs in the handle were forced out, the wires that extended the whalebone broken, and the covering rent into a thousand shreds.

From the wires the fluid passed to the wire attached to the edge of her bonnet, the cotton thread twisted round the wire being burnt off at the place of entrance over the left eye. From this part the fluid crossed the back of the head, and passed down into the neck above the left shoulder it singed the hair it came in contact with in its passage; made a hole in a handkerchief that was, round her throat; and zigzagged along the skin of her neck to the steel busk of her stays, leaving a painful wound, and affecting the hearing of the left ear. The busk was enclosed in a brown-paper case, which was perforated on the outside, and the busk fused for about a quarter of an inch on the upper surface, where it presented a blistered appearance. Its passage down the busk could not be traced in any way; but its exit at the bottom was as clearly indicated as its entrance at the top; the steel was fused in the same manner, and the paper perforated in the same way, but on the opposite side.

The fluid, in passing through the busk, communicated to it some curious magnetic properties: both ends were found strongly to attract the south pole of the needle, and the upper part, for some considerable way down. The point of northern attraction was about one-third of the length of the busk from the bottom; the greatest portion of the busk had consequently acquired southern attraction. The passage of the fluid through the gown and petticoat was distinguished by marks of burning; and upon its leaving the busk, it pierced the inside of the stays, and all the garments under them; and penetrated both thighs, where it left deep wounds. It next perforated every article on which she sat, and tore the cloth which covered the cushion very extensively the passage of the fluid through the cushion, which was stuffed with horse-hair, could not be traced; but the cloth edge of the cushion immediately behind where Mrs. Boddington sat, was torn outwards, and the leather that covered the iron was forced off in the same spot, clearly marking its egress from the cushion, and entrance in the iron.

:

The above are the facts connected with Mrs. Boddington, and the statement proceeds to notice the facts connected with Mr. Boddington, previous to tracing the further progress of the fluid. Mr. Boddington, it appears, was insensible for about the space of ten minutes, and when he revived he was perfectly unconscious of what had occurred: he felt his eyesight affected, and pain all over him. The umbrella, which he was extending, was made

of silk, and it appears the fluid principally passed down the handle to his left arm, as it was but slightly damaged. A portion of it, however, made a hole in the brim of his hat, and burnt off all the hair below it, together with the eye-brows and eye-lashes. The electric stream shattered the left hand, fused the gold shirt-buttons, and tore the clothes in a most extraordinary manner; forcing parts of them, together with the buttons, to a considerable distance: it inflicted a deep wound on the wrist, and laid the arm bare to the elbow; which is presumed to have been, at the moment, very near his left waistcoat-pocket, in which there was a knife; as this was forced from its situation, every article of dress torn away, and a severe wound made on his body it also made a wound on his back, and set fire to his clothes in its passage to the iron of the seat.

Another portion descended to the right hand which held the lower part of the stick of the umbrella: this was attracted by the sleeve-button, where it made a wound, passed down the arm, (which it discoJoured, and broke the skin off in two small places,) to a gold pencil-case in the right waistcoat pocket. The great coat which he wore was very thick; this was torn to picces, and the coat immediately above the waistcoat pocket much rent: but the waistcoat itself was merely perforated in two places, where the fluid approached the pencil case, and where it receded from it: at this part it set fire to his trowsers and drawers; and inflicted a deep wound round his back, (the whole of which was literally flayed,) in its passage to the iron of the seat. It is worthy of notice, that when the fluid arrived at the pencil-case, it had accumulated so much intensity, as to melt one end thereof, and displace a cornelian seal at the other extremity and it may also be remarked, that a very striking difference was observable in the wounds of Mr. and Mrs. Boddington: her's were fractures of the flesh; and his, on the contrary, whether deep or shallow, were all burns, and had a white and blistered appearance.

After passing over Mr. and Mrs. Boddington in the manner above described, the whole shock was collected in the iron that formed the back of the barouche seat: the leather attached to it was torn off; the iron broken in two, immediately opposite the spring; and the ends of the fractured parts bent forward, so as nearly to touch it. By this conveyance it is supposed the electric fluid diffused itself over the whole of the under-carriage, and passed to the earth by

the tires of the wheels, as four holes were made in the road at the points they touched at the moment of the shock. They were about fifteen inches in diameter, perfectly round, and nearly as deep as they were wide: the stones appeared to be thrown out as if done by a miner's blast.

The horse which the postilion rode was found to be dead, but no wound was visi. ble, nor any apparent cause for his death: the brass front of the bridle was indented inwards, as if struck with a hammer, and a corresponding mark was found on the bone of the head; from this spot to the termination of the spine, the flesh was quite black and putrid for about the space of three inches, and there were diverging marks of the same nature on each side of the head, which passed under the throat: similar but much wider ones were observed on the flanks.*

The spot on which the accident occurred was elevated ground; but by no means the summit of the surrounding country: on the contrary, there were many higher hills in the neighbourhood, and the road was so much hollowed out, that the banks must have been nearly equal to the height of the carriage.

In a field to the right, within a few yards of the hedge, and exactly opposite to where the shock took place, was a very high peartree, which bore no trace of injury. The statement concludes with a few collateral facts. The landlord of the inn at Tenbury was sitting in his parlour talking to another person, when he saw the flash of lightning that must have caused the accident; he observed to his companion, that he had never before seen so singular a flash, as it appeared to divide into four parts when it came within about thirty yards of the earth. From this circumstance, and the traces of the different strokes being so distinct, Mr. Boddington considers that they were not struck by a single discharge of electric matter, but were enveloped in a mass of electricity. The fluid appears to have pervaded the atmosphere, as many things were magnetized that were not in the line of any of the tracks that could be traced. Parts of Mr. Boddington's watch were highly magnetized, especially the balance-wheel: this was shown to Mr. Faraday when at Oxford, who set it afloat on a cork, and found the poles so well defined, that Mr. Boddington has since had it mounted as a compass.

Mr. Boddington in conclusion regrets that more minute researches were not made

It appears that the fluid passed through the brain, and along the spine; and thus the death of the animal may be accounted for.

at the time, as to these facts; but states that whoever has watched over the sick bed of a beloved son, with but faint hopes of his recovery, will not be surprised that philosophical investigations were all absorbed in the deeper interest of the affections.

CREATION.-NO. VII.

(Second Series.)

We have at length arrived at the morning of the last day occupied by Elohim in the creation of the universe, and find it noted: "And God said, Let the earth bring forth the living creature after his kind, cattle, and creeping thing, and beast of the earth, after his kind and it was so. And God made the beast of the earth after his kind, and cattle after their kind, and every thing that creepeth upon the earth after his kind: and God saw that it was good. And to every beast of the earth, and to every fowl of the air, and to every thing that creepeth upon the earth, wherein there is life, God said, I have given every green herb for meat: and it was so." Or, as it may be rendered, Elohim commanded, Let the earth become prolific, bearing life, the creatures of motion, according to their varieties: cattle and prone animals, and the beasts of the earth, according to their varieties. And it was established. Elohim formed the beasts of the earth according to their varieties; the cattle according to their kind, and every creature prone upon the earth according to his variety. And Elohim surveyed the whole, and behold it was beautifully perfect. And to every animal of the terrene, to every winged of the ethereal, and to every creature prone upon the earth possessing life, Elohim pronounced, I have given even every green herb: to them it is sustenance. And it was established.

In this last day of creation, we behold, as we have during every preceding day, a steady progression in the great work, and also a forward movement, as to the dignity of the subjects formed. We have before us, in the former part of this day's work, the last link in the chain of creation, which connects man with the clods of the earth; and in the latter part thereof, we shall behold man, himself, the very last link in that chain, connecting matter and spirit; and in this spirit we behold the bond of union between the created atoms, and the uncreated, eternal Elohim. The dignity of the animals, called on this day into existence, is obvious, from the written word, which declares: "All flesh is not the same flesh; but there is one kind of flesh of men,

another flesh of beasts, another of fishes, and another of birds." For there we have, in the order of being, the beasts which were this day created, ranked next unto man, who is the head of the creation; and, indeed, the shade of difference between the structure of certain of these animals, which approach nearest to the corporeal frame of man, is only perceptible to a nice examiner.

The power of extracting heat from the atmosphere is an attribute of a hot-blooded animal, such as this day received being: for this power, by which the whole animal frame, and especially the vital parts thereof, maintain a temperament higher than the surrounding air, is essential to the being of these animals; and whenever this power becomes extinct, the animal dies. The extraction of heat from the atmosphere takes place in the act of breathing; atmospheric air, which contains latent heat, is inhaled; and in the high temperature of the lungs, this latent heat is suddenly rendered active; and the incessant repetitions of the act of breathing, supplies the heat in perpetuity, so as to keep up the temperament from day to day.

The act of breathing, while it is incessant, is involuntary, and even unconscious. The act of breathing, in an animal not amphibious, is incessant; hence the exclamation, "Man, whose breath is in his nostrils." For in its passage to and from the lungs, the breath is perpetually passing through the mouth or nostrils, and of course, although it is not stationary, it is always there; yet there fleeting, as is his passage through time. The act of breathing is involuntary. The breath does not depend upon incessant recurrences to acts of will, in the animal breathing. Happy is it for the creature that this is not the case: for the whole attention of the animal would be completely engrossed, did every act of breathing depend upon a distinct act of the will, during its waking hours; and during the hours of rest, such incessant acts of will would banish sleep. If we attempt, indeed, to amend the breathing by recurring to acts of will, our efforts are abortive; for we soon discover that we breathe more freely in the natural way, than by our artificial mode. Breathing is, also, an unconscious act. Unless we turn our attention to the subject, we do not perceive the several acts; but the process of breathing continues as regularly as if we directed the whole. Thus are the whole of the animal, as well as mental, powers in man, left perfectly unencumbered and undistracted, to the free exercise of whatever functions or duties the wants or the pleasure of the animal require. What wisdom, what power, what perfec

tion in the Creator, is here displayed! Had the act of breathing depended upon the will of the animal, and had the circulation of the blood, consequent thereon, been other wise than serenely regular, what annoyance to the feelings, what disturbance to the whole animal system, and perturbation of the whole mental faculties, would have occu pied and harassed the animal throughout the unenviable period of its existence !

Perhaps the breathing of an animal may be thus defined: Cold air is suddenly introduced into the cavity of elastic lungs, where the temperature is higher than the atmosphere; this cold air is as suddenly rarefied, and, of course, expanded: but the cavity being already full of air, this expansion acts upon the elasticity of the lungs, and contracts their volume. The reaction of the elastic lungs expels the air; but as the air, thus acted upon, escapes freely through the mouth or nostrils, the lungs, by the force of the spring of contraction, expand beyond the natural volume; and then a second re-action of the lungs leaves a cavity for, and inhales air from, the atmosphere, to fill up the vacuity: this air, in its turn, is rarefied and expelled; and thus in succession may the acts of breathing in a hot-blooded animal perpetuate its breath. The reverse of all these may perpetuate this in a cold-blooded animal.

"Elohim formed the beasts of the earth according to their varieties, the cattle according to their kind, and every creature prone upon the earth according to his variety."

The Great Creator here notes three distinct classes of animals; each of which, in the order in which they stand, demands our attention. As the amphibious, aqueous, and airy animals, were created for the air and waters-to swim and fly-so are the animals on this day called forth by the Omnific Word intended to stock the land-to run, walk, and creep, upon, or near, the earth's surface. Rich are the varieties of these, equally with those created on the preceding day; unwearied by previous labours, vast as they were, creation is not cut short, much less abandoned; for on this eventful day, the superiority of the work rises as transcendently over the former day's work as any one of these do over the other: so true it is, that "Jehovah, which made heaven and earth, neither slumbereth nor sleepeth."

The first class of animals here enumerated are the beasts of the earth. The elephant and rhinoceros of the land, in the vast, may rank with the whale and the hippopotamus of the waters; and quadrupeds of every grade, from these to the lion, and

down to the squirrel, and even to the fieldmouse, seem to be included here: supposing the next class, the cattle, to consist only of animals domesticated by man. If the fluids teemed with life, the earth, become prolific, bears life also in abundance. Here the majestic lion, the tiger arrayed in grandeur, and with beauty,the leopard tribes, in all the varieties of fur, even to the cat of the woods, range at large and in numerous districts possess the earth: while the bear, the wolf, the hyena, the jackal, the fox, and a host of others, independent of man, are, "like the wild ass, used to the wilderness, that snuffeth up the wind at her pleasure, and in her occasion who can turn her away?" The teeth, the tongues, the vitals, the blood, the juices, the arteries, the veins, the sinews, the bones, the skin, the hair, the nails, and all their several members, included in the head, the neck, the body, the feet, and tail, are so curious, so admirably adapted to their several uses, and so fitly joined each to each, that infinite wisdom here shines equally conspicuous in all the parts of these multifarious animals as it does in the whole. On this class, which includes the whole of the wild animals, volumes have been written in every age; we are, therefore, in possession of the recorded wisdom and experience of all the ages of the world upon this interesting subject, amounting to a mass of information, which it is impossible to epitomize into the narrow limits of these essays. Whoso runneth, may read; and while he reads, may he adore the Creator!

The second class of animals on this day created are the cattle. Of these we note a rich variety, from the huge ox to the pigmy antelope, whose lowing and whose bleating are familiar to our ears. Every nation and every clime has its variety of this class of animals, domesticated for the uses of man and for his pleasure, whose habits are restrained by culture, and disciplined to subserve his purposes, to which their docility bows, and to which their strength is turned, ministering to him from day to day. For man to have been alone would not have been well, therefore mankind are each to each social and fraternal; but for man to have been alone, excepting only his brother man, would not have been good, for where all are equal, an object is wanting whereto to bow the mind. the inferior animals, ministering to his wants, returning his caresses, learning wisdom at his voice, and obeying the intima. tions of his will, while they bow the man, they lead him up to his munificent Head, who hath thus given him life, and all

But

things. In volumes of natural history, and in the journals of travellers, we read descriptions of wild animals, and are treated with anecdotes illustrative of their manners, but the domestic animals are a part of the volume of creation, spread wide open before us from day to day, wherein we cannot but read, whether we will learn or not, to acknowledge the hand that feeds us and them. This class of animals are, in several instances, endowed with the powers of rumination, whereby the food, when imperfectly masticated, is returned into the palate and rechewed, which we term, chewing the cud; horns also and hoofs crown many of their heads, and defend their feet; while a familiarity of manner, aloof from the fears betrayed by wild animals on the approach of man, renders them rather associates with, than foes, even to the tender branches of his household.

The third class of beings on this day called forth, are the creatures prone upon the earth. The whole of that beautiful, but, to man, hateful tribe of animals, denominated serpents, which, by the undulations of their flexible bodies glide over the earth's surface, and hiss away their enemies, belong to this class. Some of these are of the most enormous size, while others, even deadly vipers, are not larger than a worm. The earth-worms, also, and of worms varieties abundant, class here, together with insects having feet, all but innumerable. It is to these that the inspired volume, minute as they are, sends man to receive a lesson on diligence and foresight; when it says, "Go to the ant, thou slug gard; consider her ways, and be wise: which, having no guide, overseer, or ruler, provideth her meat in the summer, and gathereth her food in the harvest." We behold the labours of these indefatigable insects, which swarm around their ant-hill, at once their store-house and their home, with astonishment at the evident vigour of their bodies, and the no less conspicuous instinct, which, in their judicious and methodical labours, carries them up to that point in the chain of being, which so nearly approaches mind. Here, as heretofore, even to enumerate would overcharge our paper; such is the abundance, for we cannot say redundance, seeing nothing is created in vain, which every where presents itself in the creation of God.

"And Elohim surveyed the whole, and, behold, it was beautifully perfect:" All were pronounced to be perfect, rich, and good, on the day in which they were seve. rally created, from the first survey to the 2D. SERIES, NO, 23.-VOL. II.

last-no one day in this respect differed from another; indeed, how could it possibly be otherwise? The great Creator was, is, and for ever will be, holy, just, and good, and therefore good alone can proceed from Him. It is in Infinite Wisdom to conceive good, and it is equally in Infinite Power to execute the good when it was once determined-the will and the work are one. What a lesson are those daily surveys made by the Creator, of all that was done in the day, to man!

"And to every animal of the terrene, to every winged of the ethereal, and to every creature prone upon the earth, possessing life, Elohim pronounced, I have given even every green herb: to them it is sustenance." The bodies of all these animals were composed of earth, and their fluids of water, united to gas, the whole being tempered with caloric; and the director implanted in each, is the most subtile principle of which matter is capable, namely, instinct. This principle directs the animal, and when hungry it eats, when thirsty it drinks, when weary it sleeps, when blithesome it frolics, and when deprived, aggrieved, or afflicted, it moans. A creature that moves, digests, and evacuates, consumes its substance, and must, therefore, feed, or be fed. The vegetable finds its own food within the scope of its location, and if within these limits it cannot secrete enough of genial matter to sustain its waste, and maintain its substance, it must languish, decay, and die: but the animal, being a locomotive being, can roam at will; and if a small district does not afford him genial supplies, he lays a larger under contribution. To instinct, the senses are subservient; the animal sees, smells, touches and tastes, and whatever offends his senses, unless sore pressed with hunger, he rejects. Thus the animal which must seek his food, and is endowed with a will to choose it, is provided with organs suited to his wants; while the vegetable, which is fed by the genial matter which surrounds it, provides for itself by its own affinities -the one feeds, the other is fed; but both are furnished with the requisites of life, and live. How beautifully diversified, how rich in life, is creation!

The declaration here made on the gift of every green herb to the animals on this day created, namely. "To them it is sustenance," must be attended to in its course. This was the day of creation, the day of primeval purity, of innocence and peace, and I doubt not, the food then assigned to the animals was adapted to their wants, genial to their frame, and calculated, under 167.-VOL. XIV.

3 U