willing to grant this if England in
return would cede Canada to the American union, and for a time the
question was debated in this form. Finally a compromise was adopted,
Congress promising to recommend to the state legislatures "to restore
the estates, rights, and properties of real British subjects,"--which
was of course a concession in words only, as Congress had no authority
to enforce such a recommendation. The preliminary treaty between
England and America was signed November 30, 1782, and Franklin had at
once to appease the wrath of the French government which felt it had
been duped. With consummate skill he accomplished this task, and all
the vexing questions at issue were settled by the signing, on September
3, 1783, of separate definitive treaties between the three hostile
powers.

Franklin's great work was done. He had before this urged Congress to
release him from his heavy duties, and at last--in 1785, after he had
assisted in making treaties with the other powers of Europe--his
resignation was accepted, and he was free to return home. Thomas
Jefferson came over to Paris as plenipotentiary in his stead. When
asked if he replaced Dr. Franklin, Jefferson used to reply: "I
_succeed_. No one can _replace_ him."

Franklin returned to Philadelphia laden with years and honors; yet
still his country could not let him repose. For three successive years
he was elected President of Pennsylvania; but the labors entailed were
not severe, and the old man found time for amusement and quiet study.
We have a beautiful picture of his life at home with his daughter and
her family in one of his letters of the time: "The companions of my
youth are indeed almost all departed; but I find an agreeable society
among their children and grandchildren. I have public business enough
to preserve me from ennui, and private amusement besides in
conversation, books, my garden, and cribbage. Considering our
well-furnished, plentiful market as the best of gardens, I am turning
mine, in the midst of which my house stands, into grass plots and
gravel walks, with trees and flowering shrubs. Cards we sometimes play
here in long winter evenings; but it is as they play at chess,--not for
money, but for honor, or the pleasure of beating one another. This will
not be quite a novelty to you, as you may remember we played together
in that manner during the winter at Passy. I have indeed now and then a
little compunction in reflecting that I spend