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. Andre, 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.