Chiteau. When teaching Louis XVI. his trade
Gamin took upon himself the tone and authority of a master. "The King was
good, forbearing, timid, inquisitive, and addicted to sleep," said Gamin
to me; "he was fond to excess of lock-making, and he concealed himself
from the Queen and the Court to file and forge with me. In order to convey
his anvil and my own backwards and forwards we were obliged to use a
thousand stratagems, the history of which would: never end." Above the
King's and Gamin's forges and anvils was an, observatory, erected upon a
platform covered with lead. There, seated on an armchair, and assisted by
a telescope, the King observed all that was passing in the courtyards of
Versailles, the avenue of Paris, and the neighbouring gardens. He had
taken a liking to Duret, one of the indoor servants of the palace, who
sharpened his tools, cleaned his anvils, pasted his maps, and adjusted
eyeglasses to the King's sight, who was short-sighted. This good Duret,
and indeed all the indoor servants, spoke of their master with regret and
affection, and with tears in their eyes.

The King was born weak and delicate; but from the age of twenty-four he
possessed a robust constitution, inherited from his mother, who was of the
House of Saxe, celebrated for generations for its robustness. There were
two men in Louis XVI., the man of knowledge and the man of will. The King
knew the history of his own family and of the first houses of France
perfectly. He composed the instructions for M. de la Peyrouse's voyage
round the world, which the minister thought were drawn up by several
members of the Academy of Sciences. His memory retained an infinite
number of names and situations. He remembered quantities and numbers
wonderfully. One day an account was presented to him in which the
minister had ranked among the expenses an item inserted in the account of
the preceding year. "There is a double charge," said the King; "bring me
last year's account, and I will show it yet there." When the King was
perfectly master of the details of any matter, and saw injustice, he was
obdurate even to harshness. Then he would be obeyed instantly, in order
to be sure that he was obeyed.

But in important affairs of state the man of will was not to be found.
Louis XVI. was upon the throne exactly what those weak temperaments whom
nature has rendered incapable of an opinion are in society. In his
pusillanimity, he gave his confidence to