he CHAP. In be treaty with France, just as with a tranquil eye The official conduct of Franklin and his intercourse with persons of highest rank were marked by the most delicate propriety, as well as by perfect self-respect. His charm was simplicity, which gave grace to his style and ease to his manners. No lifelong courtier could have been more free from vulgarity; no diplomatist more true to his position as minister of a republic; no laborer more consistent with his former life as a working-man; and thus he won respect and love from all. When a celebrated cause was to be heard before the parliament of Paris, the throng which filled the house and its approaches opened a way on his appearance, and he passed through to the seat reserved for him amidst the acclamations of the people. At the opera, at the theatres, similar honors were paid him. It is John Adams who said: "Not Leibnitz or Newton, not Frederic or Voltaire, had a more universal reputation; and his character was more beloved and esteemed than that of them all." Throughout Europe, XXIX. 1778. March. XXIX. March. CHAP. there was scarcely a citizen or a peasant of any culture who was not familiar with his name, and who 1778. did not consider him as a friend to all men. At the academy, D'Alembert addressed him as the man who had wrenched the thunderbolt from the cloud, the sceptre from tyrants; and both these ideas were of a nature to pass easily into the common mind. From the part which he had taken in the emancipation of America, imagination transfigured him as the man who had separated the colonies from Great Britain, had framed their best constitutions of gov ernment, and by counsel and example would show how to abolish all political evil throughout the world. Malesherbes spoke of the excellence of the institutions that permitted a printer, the son of a tallowchandler, to act a great part in public affairs; and if Malesherbes reasoned so, how much more the workmen of Paris and the people. Thus Franklin was the venerable impersonation of democracy, yet so calmly decorous, so free from a disposition to quarrel with the convictions of others, that, while he was the delight of freethinking philosophers, he escaped the hatred of the clergy, and his presence excited no jealousy in the old nobility, though sometimes a woman of rank might find fault with his hands and skin, which toil had imbrowned. Yet he understood the movement of the French of his day. He remarked to those in Paris who learned of him the secret of statesmanship: "He who shall introduce into public affairs the principles of primitive Christianity will change the face of the world;" and we know from Condorcet that while in France he said one day in a public company: XXIX. March. "You perceive liberty establish herself and flourish CHAP. almost under your very eyes; I dare to predict that by and by you will be anxious to taste her bless- 1778. ings." In this way he conciliated the most opposite natures; yet not for himself. Whatever favor he met in society, whatever honor he received from the academy, whatever respect he gained as a man of science, whatever distinction came to him through the good-will of the people, whatever fame he acquired throughout Europe, he turned all to account for the good of his country. Surrounded by colleagues some of whom envied him and for no service whatever were greedy of the public money, he threw their angry demands into the fire. Arthur Lee intrigued to supplant him with the persevering malignity of consuming envy; the weak and incompetent Izard brought against him charges which bear the strangeness of frenzy; but he met their hostility by patient indifference. Never detracting from the merit of any one, he did not disdain glory, and he knew how to pardon envy. Great as were the injuries which he received in England, he used towards that power undeviating frankness and fairness, and never from resentment lost an opportunity of promoting peace. In England, Rockingham, Richmond, Burke, Fox, Conway, respected Franklin, and desired to meet his offers. So, too, did Lord North, though he had not courage to be true to his convictions. On the other side stood foremost and firmest the king, and Chatham arrayed himself against American independence. Richmond, as a friend to liberty, made frank April. advances to Chatham, sending him the draught of XXIX. CHAP. an address which he was to move in the house of lords, and entreating of him reunion, mutual confi1778. dence, and support. Chatham rejected his overture, April 7. and avowed the purpose of opposing his motion. Accordingly, on Tuesday, the seventh of April, against earnest requests, Lord Chatham, wrapped up in flannel to the knees, pale and wasted away, his eyes still retaining their fire, came into the house of lords, leaning upon his son William Pitt and his son-in-law Lord Mahon. The peers stood up out of respect as he hobbled to his bench. The Duke of Richmond proposed and spoke elaborately in favor of an address to the king which in substance recommended the recognition of the independent sovereignty of the thirteen revolted provinces and a change of administration. Chatham, who alone of British statesmen had a right to invite America to resume her old connection, rose from his seat with slowness and difficulty, leaning on his crutches and supported under each arm by a friend. His figure was marked with dignity, and he seemed a being superior to all those around him. Raising one hand from his crutch, and casting his eyes towards heaven, he said: "I thank God, that, old and infirm, and with more than one foot in the grave, I have been able to come this day to stand up in the cause of my country, perhaps never again to enter the walls of this house." The stillness that prevailed was most affecting. His voice, at first low and feeble, rose and became harmonious; but his speech faltered, his sentences were broken, his words no more than flashes in the midst of darkness, shreds of sublime but unconnected eloquence. He recalled his prophecies XXIX. 7. of the evils which were to follow such American CHAP. measures as had been adopted, adding at the end of each: "and so it proved." He could not act with 1778. April Lord Rockingham and his friends, because they persisted in unretracted error. With the loftiest pride he laughed to scorn the idea of an invasion of England by Spain or by France or by both. "If peace cannot be preserved with honor, why is not war declared without hesitation? This kingdom has still resources to maintain its just rights. Any state is better than despair. My lords! I rejoice that the grave has not closed upon me, that I am still alive to lift up my voice against the dismemberment of this ancient and most noble monarchy." The Duke of Richmond answered with respect for the name of Chatham, so dear to Englishmen; but he resolutely maintained the wisdom of avoiding a war in which France and Spain would have America for their ally. Lord Chatham would have replied; but, after two or three unsuccessful efforts to rise, he fell backwards, and seemed in the agonies of death. Every one of the peers pressed round him, save only the Earl of Mansfield, who sat unmoved. The senseless sufferer was borne from the house with tender solicitude to the bed from which he never was to rise. The king in great glee wrote at once to Lord North: "May not the political exit of Lord Chatham incline you to continue at the head of my affairs?" The world was saddened by the loss of so great a man. The appearance of Lord Chatham was never more beautiful than in these last months of his public career. He came to parliament still |