I have always had a great fondness for men older than myself. Always preferring to associate with my superiors than my inferiors in intellect, and hence when brought in contact with one of America’s noblest and most cultivated men (withal, the then richest man in the United States, if not in the world), by his son-in-law, with whom I had formed a close intimacy abroad, I sought his society, and he, in turn, appeared at least to enjoy mine. Dining with him constantly, I suggested that he should dine with me; to which he readily assented. So I went to Cranston, my landlord of the New York Hotel, and put him to his trumps to give me a suitable dinner. His hotel was then crowded, and I had actually to take down a bedstead and improvise a dining-room. Cranston was one of those hotel-keepers who worked as much for glory as for money. He gave us simply a perfect dinner, and my dear old friend and his wife enjoyed it. I remember his saying to me, “My young friend, if you go on giving such dinners as these you need have no fear of planting yourself in this city.” I here give the menu of this dinner: _CARTE DU DINER._ Les Huitres, salées. Le Potage de Consommé de Volaille, à la Royale. Le Basse rayée, grillée, Sauce Remoulade. Les Pommes de Terre, à la Lyonnaise. La Mayonnaise de Homard, decorée à la gélée. Le Filet de Bœuf, piqué, rôti, aux champignons. Les Cailles, truffées, à la Financière. Les Côtelettes d’Agneau, à la Soubise. Les Tomates, à l’Americaine. Les Petits Pois, à la Française. Canvas-back Ducks, roasted. Le Celeri, au jus. Les Huitres, grillées, à la Ste. Augustine. Le Pouding de Cabinet. La Gélée, au rhum. Les Méringues, à la Chantilly. Les Glaces de Crême, à la Portugaise. Les Quatre Mendiants. Les Fruits. Le Café, etc. _L’Hôtel New York_, _Mercredi, le 5 Janvier, 1859_. Just at this time three charming men visited New York and were fêted by my little circle of friends. They were Lord Frederick Cavendish, Hon. Evelyn Ashley, and G. W. des Voeux, now Governor of Hong Kong; three of the brightest spirits I had ever met, and without the slightest pretension; in fact, just what the real English gentleman always is,--the first gentleman in the world. Fearing a cold winter, and a friend who was going off on a foreign mission offering me his furnished house in Savannah, with all his servants, etc., I took it on a lease and proposed leaving for my native city in January. Finding my English friends also going South, I invited them to pass a month with me in my Southern home. All my European purchases, my china, glass, and bric-à-brac, I did not even unbale in New York, but shipped them directly to Savannah. Before leaving I took the precaution to order my marketing from old Waite of Amity Street (the then famous butcher), to be sent to me weekly, and started my new Southern household.