Page:Speeches, correspondence and political papers of Carl Schurz, Volume 4.djvu/368

doubt, the mishaps at the beginning of the war had produced a discouraging impression. Society, too, began to be a little sobered in its sympathies by the monotonous reports of defeat. The republican spectacle did not come up to its expectations. Then Franklin arrived in Paris. Here was a new sensation. He was the revelation of America to Europe. And more. He was the picturesque embodiment of the philosophical republicanism dreamed of in French society. He was the familiar character of Poor Richard, “Bon homme Richard,” alive. He was the renowned sage who had tamed the lightning of heaven. He was the courageous patriot who had pleaded the cause of his country at the bar of the British Parliament, defied the power of the court and made the Declaration of Independence—for, indeed, in their opinion, he had done it all alone. His very appearance seemed to tell the whole story. No artistic imagination could have shaped a finer embodiment of that which everybody wished the representative New-World republican to be. He was then seventy years old, the very picture of robust old age; his face benignant, shrewd, self-possessed, placid and serene; his bearing one of natural ease and dignity. He did not, as some traditions have it, affect a rustic appearance. The woolen stockings, the heavy shoes tied with leather strings and the broad-brimmed hat are a myth. His attire was simple and modest, but gentlemanly according to the taste of the time. On public occasions or in society he appeared in black velvet, white stockings and silver-buckled shoes. But he threw aside the fashionable wig, wearing only his natural hair, thin on the top of the head, but falling in ample gray locks upon his shoulders. His conversation was quiet, straightforward and instructive; full of wise sayings, quaintly original, witty and good-natured, always within the rules of good taste, showing that he knew the ways of the world.