"His joy was but momentary; for the supposed rabbit happened to be a stout cat, who, spitting and squalling with rage, instantly stuck his teeth and nails, like any fury, into the eagle's thighs, making the blood and feathers fly at a dreadful rate. "HOLD! HOLD! _for mercy's sake, hold!_ cried the eagle, his wings shivering in the air with very torment. "Villain! retorted the cat, with a tiger-like growl, dare you talk of _mercy_ after treating me thus, who never injured you?" O, God bless you, Mr. CAT, is that you? rejoined the eagle, mighty complaisant; 'pon honour, I did not intend, sir. I thought it was only a rabbit I had got hold of--and you know we are all fond of rabbits. Do you suppose, my dear sir, that if I had but dreamt it was you, I would ever have touched the hair of your head? No, indeed: I am not such a fool as all that comes to. And now, my dear Mr. CAT, come let's be good friends again, and I'll let you go with all my heart. "Yes, you'll let me go, scoundrel, will you--here from the clouds--to break every bone in my skin!--No, villain, carry me back, and put me down exactly where you found me, or I'll tear the throat out of you in a moment. "Without a word of reply, the eagle stooped at once from his giddy height, and sailing humbly down, with great complaisance restored the cat to his simple farm-yard, there to sleep, or hunt his rats and mice at pleasure." A solemn silence ensued. At length, with a deep prophetic sigh, lord Spencer thus replied: "_Ah! Dr. Franklin I see the drift of your fable; and my fears have already made the application. God grant_, that Britain may not prove the eagle, and America the cat." This fable paraphrased in the WHIG papers of that day, concludes in this way: "Thus Britain thought in seventy-six, Her talons in a hare to fix; But in the scuffle it was found, The bird received a dangerous wound, Which, though pretending oft to hide, Still rankles in his Royal side." CHAPTER XLI. Doctor Franklin now began to find his situation in London extremely unpleasant. For twelve years, like heaven's own minister of peace, he had pressed the olive-branch on the British ministry; and yet after all, their war-hawks could hardly tolerate the sight of him. They even went so far as to call him "_the hoary headed villain, who first stirred up the Americans to rebellion_." As soon as he could obtain his passports he left England. His old friend, Strahan, advised him to continue in that country, for that America would soon be filled with tumult and bloodshed. He replied, "_No, sir, where liberty is, there is my country._" Unbounded was the joy of the Americans on the return of so great a patriot and statesman. The day following he was elected by the legislature of Pennsylvania, a member of Congress. The following letters, in extract, to his constant friend, and the friend of science and liberty, the celebrated doctor Priestley, will show how full his hands were