They were universally admired, and the maker was
congratulated upon his success. It was in the summer that these fatal
bags were finished. Having occasion to be absent for a month, he left
them hanging in the factory. Judge of his consternation when, on his
return, he found them softening, fermenting, and dropping off their
handles. The aquafortis did indeed "cure" the surface of his
India-rubber, but only the surface. Very thin cloth made by this
process was a useful and somewhat durable article; but for any other
purpose, it was valueless. The public and signal failure of the
mail-bags, together with the imperfection of all his products except
his thinnest cloth, suddenly and totally destroyed his rising
business. Everything he possessed that was salable was sold at auction
to pay his debts. He was again penniless and destitute, with an
increased family and an aged father dependent upon him.
His friends, his brothers, and his wife now joined in dissuading him
from further experiments. Were not four years of such vicissitude
enough? Who had ever touched India-rubber without loss? Could he hope
to succeed, when so many able and enterprising men had failed? Had he
a right to keep his family in a condition so humiliating and painful?
He had succeeded in the hardware business; why not return to it? There
were those who would join him in any rational under-taking; but how
could he expect that any one would be willing to throw more money into
a bottomless pit that had already ingulfed millions without result?
These arguments he could not answer, and we cannot; the friends of all
the great inventors have had occasion to use the same.
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