ng
has struck me as a little singular. Notwithstanding his strong
attachment to America and to her usages, Lafayette, while the practice
is getting to be common in Paris, has not adopted the use of carpets. I
do not remember to have seen one, at La Grange, or in town.

When I show myself at the door, Bastien, who usually acts as porter, and
who has become quite a diplomatist in these matters, makes a sign of
assent, and intimates that the General is at dinner. Of late, he
commonly dispenses with the ceremony of letting it be known who has
come, but I am at once ushered into the bed-room. Here I find Lafayette
seated at a table, just large enough to contain one cover and a single
dish; or a table, in other words, so small as to be covered with a
napkin. His little white lap-dog is his only companion. As it is always
understood that I have dined, no ceremony is used, but I take a seat at
the chimney corner, while he goes on with his dinner. His meals are
quite frugal, though good; a _poulet roti_ invariably making one dish.
There are two or three removes, a dish at a time, and the dinner usually
concludes with some preserves or dried fruits, especially dates, of
which he is extremely fond. I generally come in for one or two of the
latter.

All this time, the conversation is on what has transpired in the
Chambers during the day, the politics of Europe, nullification in
America, or the gossip of the chateau, of which he is singularly well
informed, though he has ceased to go there.

The last of these informal interviews with General Lafayette, was one of
peculiar interest. I generally sit but half an hour, leaving him to go
to his evening engagements, which, by the way, are not frequent; but, on
this occasion, he told me to remain, and I passed nearly two hours with
him.

We chatted a good deal of the state of society under the old regime.
Curious to know his opinions of their private characters, I asked a good
many questions concerning the royal family. Louis XVI. he described as
a-well-meaning man, addicted a little too much to the pleasures of the
table, but who would have done well enough had he not been surrounded
by bad advisers. I was greatly surprised by one of his remarks. "Louis
XVI," observed Lafayette, "owed his death as much to the bad advice of
Gouverneur Morris, as to any one other thing." You may be certain I did
not let this opinion go unquestioned; for, on all other occasions, in
speaking of Mr. Morri