I could not be any more upset, my illustrious doctor, to have spent my autumn so far from you; in saying this, I flatter myself that you do not take it as a compliment à la Française. I am no less upset, I assure you, at not having been able to write you a single word. However, the life I lead here is so regimented by the schedule we keep, and by my errands at the port, that I don't have a minute to myself. On top of this, I was obliged to write some things in order to enlighten some people on a subject about which they knew nothing and about which nonetheless they had been talking an astonishing amount of nonsense.
You [must] have felt on numerous occasions how tiresome it is to enlighten people, and to instruct them on matters which it is essential for them to understand; I could tell you and boast of having felt the same way here. The poor reasoning that I have heard about lightning rods is so strange, that I have not yet quite recovered from it. But I would have never believed that there could be people who combine so much presumption with so much ignorance. There is a professor here who understands nothing about electricity; together with another man who has done a few paltry experiments on this subject and who understands no more than the first, they have written a memoir against lightning rods that was send to the Minister. M. le maréchal de Castries said what you might imagine he would. But don't you marvel at the foolish vanity of a man who thinks he understands more about this subject than you, and the finest minds in science who work on this topic; more than the most celebrated academies in Europe, who completely resolved the question of the utility and benefits of lightning rods. But we must leave these people to their ignorance and their foolishness; and I will tell you about something that will interest you more. Last week, I was able to install a lightning rod on a vessel, the first to have been put on a vessel of the King. The ship is called the Etoile, a 100-ton flat-bottomed barge, commanded by a ship's lieutenant, M. de Voutron, who seemed to be a man of merit. He left for St. Domingue, and promised me to carefully observe everything that happened to this lightning rod. It is installed on the back-stays (1) of the fore-topgallant mast (2), like M. Wenn's rod; but it is there for good and attached, because I thought that if it was held in reserve to be used if there was need, it might not be used at all. The chain is not exactly like that of M. Nairne's; I thought I should change it slightly so that it fits better on the back-stays. On the truck (3) of the fore-topgallant mast, there is a little weathercock spire of pure red copper, and this spire is tipped with a handsome gilded tip which extends another two or two and half feet. The tip's metallic connection with the chain is via a strip of copper imbedded in the fore-topgallant mast, which joins up with the chain, so that the connection is very exact and very tight. This is truly a fine improvement. Finally, this chain reaches the sea as it descends, connecting metallically with the main chains (4), and from there passing by metal lances beneath the water-line on the ship's hull. This way there is a line, or rather a metal shaft which starts at the top of the fore-topgallant mast and goes down to the sea. As there were complaints that the chains were hitting the ship's hull, I thought it best to put the metal connection along the hull itself. This would not result in any difficulties, given the movement of the ship which continuously moves it away from the space which it was occupying, and the immense quantity of water which will instantly dissipate the electrical energy. Nevertheless, I would love to hear your ideas on this subject if your affairs allow you, my illustrious doctor, to write me a note; you realize the pleasure this would give me.
I was planning to leave this area last week or this week, but the workers are going so slowly, at the rate that work is done here in this port, that I am still here; I don't know if I will be able to leave near the start of next month, as I hope. Adieu, my illustrious doctor, please keep me in your affections, so dear to me, and believe that no matter in what region of the universe I inhabit, you will never find a more sincere admirer, nor a friend who is so passionately attached, than I