can impose self-denial and bear it. Like Erasmus, he may not aspire to become a martyr-but in the long voyages and tasks which, in his infirm old age, he has undertaken in his country's service, there is much of the sublimest spirit of martyrdom." “What did I tell you?" cried Lord X— as Mr. M- sat down. "Mr. M- has put the capstone on the pedestal, and I declare this meeting adjourned without day. But, before you tempt the elements, allow me, as a slight acknowledgment of the honor you have paid me, to have those empty tankards refilled, and fresh tobacco brought. Then we will all stand and drinkLong life to Benjamin Franklin, the Man Who Made America!" A CHAPTER XXX NINE YEARS' HAPPINESS S soon as the Treaty of Peace was signed and Franklin realized that he had assisted at the birth of a new nation, the fairest and the most promising child ever rocked in Liberty's cradle, he felt, as he had never experienced them before, the inroads of chronic disease and the loss of strength due to advancing years. His bright mentality remained unimpaired, but, although "the spirit was willing, the flesh was weak." He had borne the brunt of the fray-now was the time for stronger limbs and sturdier bodies to take up the work. He wrote to the Congress, asking for permission to return home, but it was not until April, 1785, that his successor was appointed and he was at liberty to do so. "Home! Would to God," he exclaimed one day, speaking to the Count de Chaumont, "that I could take with me Messieurs Dupont, Dubourg, and some other French friends, not forgetting yourself, with your good ladies. I might then, by mixing them with my friends in Philadelphia, form a little, happy society that would prevent my ever wishing again to visit Europe." He wrote at once to Mr. and Mrs. Bache: DEAR SON AND DAUGHTER: PASSY, May 10th, 1785. Having at length received from Congress permission to return home, I am now preparing for my departure, and hope to get away by the middle of next month, or the end at the farthest, tho' I know not yet whether it will be by the Packet or some other vessel. Fearing that the Packet may be crowded with passengers, I have desired my Cousin Jonathan Williams, now in London, to enquire whether there may not be found some good vessel bound directly to Philadelphia, who would agree to take me on board at Havre, with my grandsons and Servants, with my baggage, &c. Infirm as I am, I have need of comfortable room and accommodation. I must be well stowed or I shall not be able to hold out the voyage. Indeed my friends here are so apprehensive for me, that they press me much to remain in France, and three of them have offered me an asylum in their habitations. They tell me that I am here among people who universally esteem and love me; that' my friends at home are diminished by death in my absence; that I may there meet with envy and its consequent enmity which here I am perfectly free from; this, supposing I live to complete the voyage, but of that they doubt. The desire however of spending the little remaining of my life with my family, is so strong as to determine me to try at least, whether I can bear the motion of a ship. If not, I must get them to set me on shore somewhere in the channel, and content myself to die in Europe. It is long since I have heard from you or of you. I hope however that you and the children continue well. Ben is very well, and grows amazingly. He promises to be stout as well as a good man. Temple has been ill lately with a fever, but he is getting better and sends his duty. I suppose Ben writes. I am ever, my dear children, Your affectionate Father, B. FRANKLIN in his 80th year. Mme. de Tonnerre, who, as Mlle. de Passy, had looked upon Franklin as one of the family, said: "When you leave Passy, doctor, it will seem as though the village had lost its patriarch, and we our dearest friend." "My child," replied Franklin, using the, to him, most expressive term of endearment, "I shall never forget Passy and the nine years' happiness I have enjoyed here in the sweet society of a people whose conversation is instructive, whose manners are highly pleasing, and who, above all the nations of the world, have, in the greatest perfection, the art of making themselves beloved by strangers. After I return to America, I know that the scenes of all my pleasant dreams will be laid in Paris, or in its neighborhood." The Countess d'Houdetot wished him to pass another day in Sanoy, driving to Passy to extend the invitation in person. "My dear countess," said he, "I must decline for two reasons, both of which you have a right to know. In the first place, if my second visit were not so pleasant as that other, I should be always unhappy. Then I am so infirm that I cannot bear the motion of a carriage to go to Versailles for an audience of leave. I shall be obliged to write my farewell in a letter to the Count de Vergennes." "Will not the queen be offended?” she asked. "I trust not," he replied. "I should prefer to face the lightning from the skies rather than draw an angry spark from her eyes. "Very prettily spoken," cried the countess. "She ought to have heard you say it." The queen did not have that pleasure, but, a short time after Franklin left Paris, the Countess d'Houdetot showed to her intimate friends what she declared was written by Doctor Franklin and given to her as a parting souvenir. It ran: Fair Queen, I own from out the skies To draw the spark from Marie's eyes! It was a custom for the French kings to give their portraits to departing ministers, and King Louis did not forget it on this occasion. The one which he gave to Franklin was literally framed with brilliants, there being four hundred and eight diamonds in two circles around the portrait. This jeweled miniature was worth fifty thousand francs. The day for the final parting came at last, and such sad days always come too soon. On the morning of July twelfth, 1785, the journey to the coast began. Franklin was accompanied by the Count de Chaumont, his daughter, Mme. de Tonnerre, and a few other friends who had always shown a most affectionate regard for him. The doctor's two young grandsons were also of the party. The queen's litter, which was so constructed that it could be borne between two mules, was placed at Franklin's disposal, and the motion did not seriously incommode him. The night of the twelfth was passed at St. Germain. The next morning, after breakfast, the count and his daughter, with the rest of the party, bade their venerable and beloved friend farewell, and returned to Passy. Until the count received word that Franklin had arrived safely in America, he would allow no one to enter the Little House. "It is his," he said; "if our friend does not survive the journey, the Little House shall be his monument, and be kept sacred to his memory as long as this estate is mine." July thirteenth, the second day of the journey, was enlivened by an unlooked-for occurrence which, at first, filled them with apprehension. As the party was proceeding along the highway, a body of men came in sight and commanded it to stop. "What authority have you to interfere with a foreign minister and his suite?" cried one of Franklin's staunch friends. The leader of the opposing party replied: "You are within the archbishopric of the powerful Cardinal de la Rochefoucauld. He invites Doctor Franklin and his |