nse and public spirit as Voltaire was for poetical power and satirical
keenness. These two great men met, and their meeting is worthy of
description. The American envoys had asked permission to call on the
veteran of literature, a request that was willingly granted when
Voltaire learned that Franklin was one of the number. What passed
between them may be briefly related.

They found the aged poet reclining on a couch, thin of body, wrinkled of
face, evidently sick and feeble; yet his eyes, "glittering like two
carbuncles," showed what spirit lay within his withered frame. As they
entered, he raised himself with difficulty, and repeated the following
lines from Thomson's "Ode to Liberty," a poem which he had been familiar
with in England fifty years before.

"Lo! swarming southward on rejoicing suns,
Gay colonies extend, the calm retreat
Of undisturbed Distress, the better home
Of those whom bigots chase from foreign lands;
Not built on rapine, servitude, and woe,
And in their turn some petty tyrant's prey;
But bound by social Freedom, firm they rise."

He then began to converse with Franklin in English; but, on being asked
by his niece to speak in French, that she and others present might
understand what was said, he remarked,--

"I beg your pardon. I have, for the moment, yielded to the vanity of
showing that I can speak in the language of a Franklin."

Shortly afterwards, Dr. Franklin presented him his grandson, whereupon
the old man lifted his hands over the head of the youth, and said, "My
child, God and liberty! Recollect those two words."

This was not the only scene between Franklin and Voltaire. Another took
place at the Academy of Sciences at one of the meetings of that body.
The two distinguished guests sat side by side on the platform, in full
view of the audience.

During the proceedings an interruption occurred. A confused cry arose,
the names of the two great visitors alone being distinguishable. It was
taken to mean that they should be introduced. This was done. They rose
and acknowledged the courtesy by bowing and a few words. But such a
formal proceeding was far from enough to satisfy the audience. The noise
continued. Franklin and Voltaire shook hands. This gave rise to
plaudits, but the confused cries were not stilled; the audience wanted
some more decided demonstration.

"Il faut s'embrasser, a la Francoise" ["You must embrace, in French
fashion"], they cried.