of Versailles.  This novelty turned the light heads of the Frenchwomen.  Elegant entertainments were given to Doctor Franklin, who, to the reputation of a man of science, added the patriotic virtues which invested him with the character of an apostle of liberty.  I was present at one of these entertainments, when the most beautiful woman out of three hundred was selected to place a crown of laurels upon the white head of the American philosopher, and two kisses upon his cheeks.  Even in the palace of Versailles Franklin’s medallion was sold under the King’s eyes, in the exhibition of Sevres porcelain.  The legend of this medallion was

“Eripuit coelo fulmen, sceptrumque tyrannis.”

The King never declared his opinion upon an enthusiasm which his correct judgment no doubt led him to blame.  The Queen spoke out more plainly about the part France was taking respecting the independence of the American colonies, and constantly opposed it.  Far was she from foreseeing that a revolution at—­such a distance could excite one in which a misguided populace would drag her from her palace to a death equally unjust and cruel.  She only saw something ungenerous in the method which France adopted of checking the power of England.

However, as Queen of France, she enjoyed the sight of a whole people rendering homage to the prudence, courage, and good qualities of a young Frenchman; and she shared the enthusiasm inspired by the conduct and military success of the Marquis de La Fayette.  The Queen granted him several audiences on his first return from America, and, until the 10th of August, on which day my house was plundered, I preserved some lines from Gaston and Bayard, in which the friends of M. de La Fayette saw the exact outline of his character, written by her own hand: 

         “Why talk of youth,
          When all the ripe experience of the old
          Dwells with him?  In his schemes profound and cool,
          He acts with wise precaution, and reserves
          For time of action his impetuous fire. 
          To guard the camp, to scale the leaguered wall,
          Or dare the hottest of the fight, are toils
          That suit th’ impetuous bearing of his youth;
          Yet like the gray-hair’d veteran he can shun
          The field of peril.  Still before my eyes
          I place his bright example, for I love
          His lofty courage, and his prudent thought. 
          Gifted like him, a warrior has no age.”

[During the American war a general officer in the service of the United States advanced with a score of men under the English batteries to reconnoitre their position.  His aide-de-camp, struck by a ball, fell at his side.  The officers and orderly dragoons fled precipitately.  The general, though under the fire of the cannon, approached the wounded man to see whether any help could be afforded him.  Finding the wound had been mortal, he slowly rejoined