"Were we not inexperienced, hot-headed men who gathered in the Apollo room at the Raleigh to protest against the proceedings in Massachusetts? Were we not rash, windy orators in the House of Burgesses—nay, in Congress itself? Yet did we not accomplish great things—great good?" He laid his hand affectionately on the shoulder of the young man who remained silent, revolving many things, Aeneas-like, but too modest to oppose himself further to Mr. Jefferson.
"No, no, my boy," continued Mr. Jefferson, after an instant's silence, "do not believe that the awakening which made of us a great nation will not be equally glorious for France! And with such leaders as are hers, will she not march proudly and triumphantly forward to her day of glory? Will not a Lafayette do even more for his own country than ever he did for America? Even I have been able to help somewhat. 'Tis true, as Minister from the United States of America, I cannot use my official influence, but surely as a patriot, as an American citizen who is profoundly, overwhelmingly grateful for the aid, the generosity, the friendship of this great country, I can give counsel, the results of our experience, a word of encouragement, of good cheer."
He paused, his noble face alight with enthusiasm and emotion. Of all the fine traits of that fine character none was more strongly marked than that of gratitude. Never ashamed to show it, his only fear was that he might not prove grateful enough. Other Americans, of as great talents and colder hearts, could find it easy to believe that France had extended her aid to us for diplomatic purposes—to guard her own interests and humble her adversary, England—could look on with neutral eyes at her awful struggles, could keep America calmly aloof from all her entanglements. Not so Mr. Jefferson. Such a return for her services seemed to him but the acme of selfishness and ingratitude. It was not bad statesmanship that made him bear so long with the blunders, the impertinences, the fatuity of Monsieur Genet; it was the remembrance of all the benefits showered upon us by the country which that charlatan represented. Perhaps 'tis well that those who hold the welfare of a nation in their hands should, like the gods, feel neither fear, nor anger, nor love, nor hatred, nor gratitude—in a word, should be unmoved by forces that sway the common mortal, so that, free from all earthly claims, that nation soars away to dizzying heights of prosperity and power. Pro bono publico is a wellnigh irresistible plea. But there are statesmen in whose code of morals national virtues are identical with personal virtues, national crimes with personal crimes. Such a one was Mr. Jefferson.
"No, no," he went on, musingly, filling his long pipe with the mild, fragrant Virginia tobacco which had been shipped to him in the packet of two months back, "we must not forget our obligations. Would that we could pay some of the moneyed ones! The finances of this country are in a deplorable state and there are millions of indebtedness on account of our war. But if we cannot do that, we can, at least, give our moral aid to those who are trying to bring about great reforms in this kingdom—reforms which, I hope, will be carried through at the forthcoming States-General to be held in May. Already the elections are preparing, and some of our friends will undoubtedly represent their orders. D'Azay and Lafayette will assuredly be nominated from the noblesse."
"General de Lafayette and d'Azay!" said Calvert. "I should like to see them again. The last time was at Monticello."
"Yes, yes," returned Mr. Jefferson, smiling at the pleasant recollection of that last evening in Virginia. "Lafayette is still in Auvergne, I believe, busy with his elections, so that I fear he will not be here tomorrow, the evening of the weekly Legation reception. But d'Azay will doubtless present himself, since Monsieur de Beaufort tells us he returns tomorrow. Indeed, he and his aunt, Madame la Duchesse d'Azay, and his sister, the lovely Madame de St. André, are among my stanchest friends in this great city and nearly always do me the honor to be my guests at the receptions and dinners I find it both so agreeable and necessary to give. I have already engaged Mr. Morris's company for the evening. It will give me great pleasure to introduce two such Americans to the world of Paris," and he laid his hand affectionately, in his customary fashion, on the young man's shoulder.
As Mr. Jefferson had said, he entertained frequently, and 'twas a very brilliant society that gathered at least once a week in the salon of the minister from the young Republic, drawn thither by policy, curiosity, respect and admiration for Mr. Jefferson, a desire to consult him on the important topics of the hour, and a certain freedom from constraint—a feeling as of being on neutral ground. For already the salons of Paris were divided against themselves. No longer simply the gatherings of fashionable, of charming, of frivolous men and women, they had grown somewhat serious with the seriousness of the time. In the salon of Madame Necker gathered the solid supporters of the King, and, above all, the solid supporters of Monsieur Necker, who was at the height of his power and complacently ready to play the role of saviour to his country. At the Palais Royal crowded the queer followers of Monsieur le Duc d'Orléans, the enemies of the King. At the house of the beautiful Théroigne de Méricourt were to be found the men of the most advanced, the most revolutionary, ideas, the future murderers and despoilers of France. In the salon of the exquisite Madame de Sabran flocked all those young aristocrats, wits, sprigs of nobility, who believed in nothing in Heaven or earth save in the Old Order. There was the serious circle around Madame de Tessé, where new ideas were advanced and discussed, and there was the gay circle of Madame de Beauharnais, whose chief attractions were her delightful dinners, and who, the wits declared, had "intended to found a salon, but had only succeeded in starting a restaurant." Besides these, there were a dozen other important centres representing as many different shades of political faith. But in the salon of the American Legation gathered the best of every following, for, although Mr. Jefferson's democratic principles were, of course, well and widely known, yet was he so respected, his moderation and fairness so recognized, that all considered it an honor to be his friend and his presence a guarantee of amicable discussion and good-fellowship.
"I shall be very glad to meet your new friends, sir," said Calvert, smiling back at Mr. Jefferson as that gentleman arose and stood with his back to the fire, his tall, thin figure silhouetted by the firelight on the wall (the candles were still unlit), his hands clasped lightly behind his back, as was his wont. "I had the pleasure of meeting an old one this afternoon."
"Indeed," said Mr. Jefferson, "and who was that?"
"A poor French private named Bertrand, who served in a company under General de Lafayette's orders in the attack on Yorktown, and whom I had the occasion to know rather well. I fancy," he went on, smiling a little at the recollection of Beaufort's haughtiness, "that Beaufort was somewhat amazed at the cordiality of our meeting."