THUNDERBOLTS 137 



THUNDERBOLTS 



THE subject of thunderbolts is a very fascinating one, and 

 all the more so because there are no such things in exist- 

 ence at all as thunderbolts of any sort. Like the snakes of 

 Iceland, their whole history might, from the positive point 

 of view at least, be summed up in the simple statement of 

 their utter nonentity. But does that do away in the least, 

 I should like to know, with their intrinsic interest and im- 

 portance ? Not a bit of it. It only adds to the mystery 

 and charm of the whole subject. Does anyone feel as 

 keenly interested in any real living cobra or anaconda as 

 in the non-existent great sea-serpent ? Are ghosts and 

 vampires less attractive objects of popular study than cats 

 and donkeys ? Can the present King of Abyssinia, inter- 

 viewed by our own correspondent, equal the romantic charm 

 of Prester John, or the butcher in the next street rival 

 the personality of Sir Eoger Charles Doughty Tichborne, 

 Baronet ? No, the real fact is this : if there w&re thunder- 

 bolts, the question of their nature and action would be a 

 wholly dull, scientific, and priggish one ; it is their un- 

 reality alone that invests them with all the mysterious 

 weirdness of pure fiction. Lightning, now, is a common 

 thing that one reads about wearily in the books on electricity, 

 a mere ordinary matter of positive and negative, density and 

 potential, to be measured in ohms (whatever they may be), 

 and partially imitated with Leyden jars and red sealing-wax 

 apparatus. Why, did not Benjamin Franklin, a fat old 



