He had been made the confidant of that Prince in an immense number of important commissions; the King had sent him the “Red Book,” from Paris, in a parcel; and the part which was concealed during the Constituent Assembly still remained so in 1793.  Gamin hid it in a part of the Chateau inaccessible to everybody, and took it from under the shelves of a secret press before our eyes.  This is a convincing proof that Louis XVI. hoped to return to his 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 a minister; and although amidst various counsels he often knew which was the best, he never had the resolution to say, “I prefer the opinion of such a one.”  Herein originated the misfortunes of the State.—­SOULAVIE’S “Historical and Political Memoirs Of the Reign Of louis XVI.,” Vol ii.