From this letter it appears that the critical judgment of La Harpe, confirmed by D’Alembert, sided for _sceptrumque_ as better than _mox sceptra_. The verse of Turgot was not alone in its testimony. An incident precisely contemporaneous shows how completely France had fallen under the fascination of the American cause. Voltaire, the acknowledged chief of French literature in the brilliant eighteenth century, after many years of busy exile at Ferney, in the neighborhood of Geneva, where he had wielded his far-reaching sceptre, was induced in old age to visit Paris once again before he died. He left his Swiss retreat on the 6th of February, 1778, the very day on which Franklin signed the alliance with France, and, after a journey which resembled the progress of a sovereign, reached Paris on the 10th of February. He was at once surrounded by the homage of all most illustrious in literature and science, while the Theatre, grateful for his contributions, vied with the Academy. There were two characters on whom the patriarch, as he was fondly called, lavished a homage of his own. He had already addressed to Turgot a most remarkable epistle in verse, the mood of which may be seen in its title, “Épître à un Homme”; but on seeing the discarded statesman, who had been so true to benevolent ideas, he came forward to meet him, saying, with his whole soul, “Let me kiss the hand which signed the salvation of the people.” The scene with Franklin was more touching still. Voltaire began in English, which he had spoken early in life, but, having lost the habit, soon changed to French, saying that he “could not resist the desire of speaking for one moment the language of Franklin.” The latter had brought with him his grandson, for whom he asked a benediction. “God and Liberty,” said Voltaire, putting his hands upon the head of the child; “this is the only benediction proper for the grandson of Franklin.” A few weeks afterward, at a public session of the Academy, they were placed side by side, when, amidst the applause of the enlightened company, the two old men rose and embraced. The political triumphs of Franklin and the dramatic triumphs of Voltaire caused the exclamation, “Solon and Sophocles embrace!” It was more than this. It was France and America embracing beneath the benediction of “God and Liberty.” Only a month later Voltaire died. But the alliance with France had received new assurance, and the cause of American independence an immutable impulse.