dered and perfumed coiffures of the courtiers. The novelty charmed the lively imagination of the French ladies. Elegant fêtes were given to the man who was said to unite in himself the renown of one of the greatest of natural philosophers with "those patriotic virtues which had made him embrace the noble part of Apostle of Liberty." Madame Campan records that she assisted at one of these fêtes, where the most beautiful among three hundred ladies was designated to place a crown. of laurel upon the white head of the American philosopher, and two kisses upon the cheeks of the old man. Even in the palace, at the exposition of the Sèvres porcelain, the medallion of Franklin, with the legend, “ Eripuit cœlo," etc., was sold directly under the eyes of the King. Madame Campan adds, however, that the King avoided expressing himself on this enthusiasm, which, "without doubt, his sound sense led him to blame." But an incident, called "a pleasantry," which has remained quite unknown, goes beyond speech in explaining the secret sentiments of Louis the Sixteenth. The Comtesse Diane de Polignac, devoted to Marie Antoinette, shared warmly the "infatuation" with regard to Franklin. The King observed it. But here the story shall be told in the language of the eminent lady who records it: "Il fit faire à la manufacture de Sèvres un vase de nuit, au fond duquel était placé le médaillon avec la légende si fort en vogue, et l'envoya en présent d'étrennes à la Comtesse Diane."1 Such was the exceptional treatment of Franklin, and of the inscription in his honor which was "so much in vogue." Giving to this incident its natural interpretation, it is impossible to resist the conclusion,

1 Mémoires sur la Vie privée de Marie Antoinette, par Madame Campan, Tom. I. p. 234.

that the French people, and not the King, sanctioned American independence.

The conduct of the Queen on this occasion is not recorded, although we are told by the same communicative chronicler, who had been her Majesty's companion, that she did not hesitate to express herself more openly than the King on the part taken by France in favor of American independence, to which she was constantly opposed. A letter from Marie Antoinette, addressed to Madame de Polignac, under date of April 9, 1787, declares unavailing regret in memorable words: "The time of illusions is past, and to-day we pay dear on account of our infatuation and enthusiasm for the American War." Evidently, Marie Antoinette, like her brother Joseph, thought that her "business was to be a royalist."

But the name of Franklin triumphed in France. So long as his residence continued there he was received with honor; and when, after the achievement of independence, and the final fulfilment of all that was declared in the verse of Turgot, he undertook to return. home, the Queen who had looked with so little favor upon the cause he so grandly represented - sent a litter to receive his sick body and carry him gently to the sea. As the great Revolution began to show itself, his name was hailed with new honor; and this was natural; for the French Revolution was an outbreak of the spirit that had risen to welcome him. In snatching the sceptre from a tyrant he had given a lesson to France. His death, when at last it occurred, was the occasion of a magnificent eulogy from Mirabeau, who, borrowing the

1 Bulletin de l'Alliance des Arts, 10 Octobre, 1843. See, also, Goncourt, Histoire de Marie Antoinette, p. 221.

idea of Turgot, exclaimed from the tribune of the National Assembly," Antiquity would have raised altars to the powerful genius, who, to the benefit of mankind, embracing in his thought both heaven and earth, could subdue lightning and tyrants." On his motion, France went into mourning for Franklin. His bust became a favorite ornament, and, during the festival of Liberty, it was carried, with the busts of Sidney, Rousseau, and Voltaire, before the people to receive their veneration.2 A little later, the eminent medical character, Cabanis, who had lived in intimate association with Franklin, added his testimony, saying, that the enfranchisement of the United States was in many respects his work, and that the Revolution, the most important to the happiness of men which had then been accomplished on earth, united with one of the most brilliant discoveries of physical science to consecrate his memory; and he concludes by quoting the verse of Turgot.3 Long afterwards, his last surviving companion in the cheerful circle of Madame Helvétius, still loyal to the idea of Turgot, hailed him as "that great man who placed his country in the number of independent states, and made one of the most important discoveries of the age." 4

It is time to look at this verse in its literary relations, from which I have been diverted by its commanding

1 Grimm, Correspondance, Tom. XVI. pp. 427, 428.

2 Louis Blanc, Histoire de la Révolution Française, Tom. VI. p. 316. 8 Notice sur Benjamin Franklin: Œuvres Posthumes, Tom. V. p. 220. 4 Morellet, Mémoires, Tom. I. p. 290. Nothing but Franklin's eminence could have obtained the place he has in the spiteful work, "Histoire d'un Pou Français, ou l'Espion d'une nouvelle Espèce, tant en France qu'en Angleterre, contenant les Portraits des Personnages intéressans de ces deux Royaumes," which appeared at Paris in 1781. See Chapters VIII. and XIV.

import as a political event; but this naturally enhances the interest in its origin.

The poem which furnished the prototype of the famous verse was " Anti-Lucretius, sive de Deo et Natura,” by the Cardinal Melchior de Polignac. Its author was of that patrician house associated so closely with Marie Antoinette in the earlier Revolution, and with Charles the Tenth in the later Revolution, having its cradle in the mountains of Auvergne, near the cradle of Lafayette, and its present tomb in the historic cemetery of Picpus, near the tomb of Lafayette, so that these two great names, representing opposite ideas, begin and end side. by side. He was not merely author, but statesman and diplomatist also, under Louis the Fourteenth and Fifteenth. Through his diplomacy a French prince was elected King of Poland. He represented France at the Peace of Utrecht, where he bore himself very proudly towards the Dutch. By the nomination of the Pretender, at that time in France, he obtained the hat of a cardinal. At Rome he was a favorite, and also at Versailles, with some interruptions. His personal appearance, his distinguished manners, his genius, and his accomplishments, all commended him. Literary honors were superadded to political and ecclesiastical. He succeeded to the chair of Bossuet at the Academy. But he was not without the vicissitudes of political life. Falling into disgrace at court, he was banished to the abbacy of Bonport. There the lettered Prince of the Church occupied himself with a refutation of Lucretius, in Latin verse.

The origin of the poem is not without interest. Meeting Bayle in Holland, the Frenchman found the indefatigable skeptic most persistently citing Lucretius, in

whose elaborate verse the atheistic materialism of Epicurus is developed and exalted. Others had answered the philosopher directly; but the indignant Christian was moved to answer the poet through whom the dangerous system was proclaimed. His poem was, therefore, a vindication of God and religion, in direct response to a master-poem of antiquity in which these are assailed. The attempt was lofty, especially when the champion adopted the language of Lucretius. Perhaps no writer of Latin verse since the admired Sannazaro, found equal success. Even before its publication, in 1747, it was read at court, and was admired in the princely circle of Sceaux. It appeared in elegant editions, was translated into French prose by Bougainville, and into French verse by Jeanty-Laurans, also most successfully into Italian verse by Ricci. At the latter part of the last century, when Franklin reached Paris, it was hardly less known in literary circles than a volume of Grote's History in our own day. Voltaire, the contemporary arbiter of literary fame, regarding the author only on the side of literature, said of him, in his "Temple du Goût":

"Le Cardinal, oracle de la France,

Réunissant Virgile avec Platon,

Vengeur du Ciel et vainqueur de Lucrèce." 1

The last line of this remarkable eulogy has a movement and balance not unlike the Latin verse of Turgot, or that which suggested it in the poem of Polignac; but the praise it so pointedly offers attests the fame of the author. Nor was this praise limited to the "fine frenzy" of verse. The "Anti-Lucretius" was gravely pro

1 Le Temple du Goût, 1, 11, 12: Euvres (édit. 1784), Tom. XII. p. 141.