In colonial America, glasses were one of those things that tended to set the wearer apart. According to “The First Scientific American,” they were generally understood to be medical devices, but also ones that had a certain edge of scientific innovation to them. If you wore glasses, you may have been able to present yourself as someone on the cutting edge (who also had weak eyesight, sure). When Benjamin Franklin developed an even more advanced pair of spectacles, it likely helped to further set him apart as an intellectually curious innovator in the colonies and beyond.

The glasses in question were bifocals, not unlike the kind you might pick up at an optometrist’s today. If you aren’t familiar with the concept, bifocals allow the wearer to focus in on things that are close and far away, depending on what section of the lenses they look through. Typically, the upper portion of the bifocals allow you to view things far away, while the lower section lets you focus in on things that are closer to you, such as the text of Franklin’s beloved books. 

Today, bifocals and similar glasses like trifocals are made in a relatively seamless fashion. Franklin, however, apparently took two different lenses and cut them in half. He then joined them together, seams and all, in a set of frames, per the Smithsonian. It’s not exactly the smooth transition of modern lenses, but one that seemingly pleased him all the same for the concept’s versatility.

One of Benjamin Franklin’s most famed interests was electricity. Clearly, there were no lightbulbs, no wiring systems, and no electricians at the time. But people knew that electricity was a very real natural force. One only had to take a glimpse at the awesome power of lightning to understand that something really interesting was going on.

While it’s safe to assume that a majority of people were only going to glimpse lightning from within a safely sheltered building, Franklin’s curiosity wasn’t going to let him sit by and observe from a distance. He’s now pretty famous for his experiments with electricity, including one where he flew a kite during a storm to demonstrate the connection between electricity and lightning. According to The Franklin Institute, this doesn’t mean Franklin “discovered” electricity. And the kite wasn’t struck by lightning — instead, it picked up ambient static electricity. Otherwise, Franklin and his son — who accompanied his father on the experiment — could have easily ended up smoldering corpses.

But Franklin does get credit for inventing a specific type of lightning rod. The Franklin Institute explains that lightning was a pretty destructive force that could seriously damage buildings. He realized that an iron rod, affixed to a high point on a building and grounded to another spot away from the structure, could alleviate a lot of that risk. His variation, which came with a point rather than a rounded end, was ultimately installed on quite a few structures.

Benjamin Franklin was clearly a cultured man. When he was deployed as an ambassador to Europe in the aftermath of the American Revolution, per the U.S. Department of State, it became obvious that Franklin knew how to make a good impression.

Part of being a cultured person at this time was having an appreciation for the arts. And Franklin apparently was no exception. Take the glass armonica. According to The Franklin Institute, one of the more popular party tricks at this time, on both sides of the Atlantic Ocean, was to hold a musical performance using glasses filled with water. Filled with the right amount of water and with the correct technique, the glasses can be made to “sing,” resonating like a musical instrument. In fact, you may have seen this done or even attempted it yourself.

But Franklin apparently wasn’t interested in what must have been a pretty laborious setup. You know, you’d have to get out all of the different glasses, figure out just the right amount of water for each one, remember what order to set them up in, and then play your tune. Franklin’s glass armonica sought to simplify that process. It was essentially a wooden cabinet with the glasses already nestled together. A mechanism would set it to rotate and, with moistened fingertips, a musician could theoretically play it with ease. At the time, the glass armonica was one of Franklin’s biggest hits, though its popularity faded in the decades following his death.

Benjamin Franklin helped to establish a subscription-based lending library in 1731 Philadelphia, per the Benjamin Franklin Historical Society, and was also obviously someone who not only knew how to read but deeply loved the pursuit of knowledge. What’s more, young Franklin truly made his mark as a prolific writer and printer, oftentimes writing satirical and incisive essays and pamphlets under a variety of pseudonyms (via The Library Company of Philadelphia). During his growth as a commentator and writer, Franklin developed a keen sense of evaluating society, individuals, and, of course, the political landscape.

All of this led to what may well have been the very first American political cartoon, courtesy of none other than Franklin. And, no, it doesn’t have much to do with the American Revolution, at least not directly. According to History, it’s actually related to the French and Indian War. Published in Franklin’s Pennsylvania Gazette newspaper, it depicts a snake cut into various portions, each labelled to represent the colonies. Beneath it is the stark maxim, “Join, or Die.” The image, which became widely known soon after its first printing, essentially told the colonists to get their act together lest outside forces enact a bloody takeover.

For better or for worse, Franklin can be considered the father of U.S. political cartooning. Every newspaper political cartoon that’s either made you nod in agreement or roll your eyes in exasperation owes some portion of its existence to Franklin’s 1754 depiction of a dissected snake.