His surgeon, M. Cloquet, gives this instance of his marvellous powers of physical endurance:— “During his last illness he acquainted us with the nature of the medical treatment which he had undergone in 1803 for a fracture of the thigh, occasioned by a fall on a slippery pavement. Deschamp and Boyer, whose memory I respect, and whom I am proud to have had for my masters, were summoned in their professional capacity to his assistance. The fractured limb was inclosed in a machine which kept it in a constant state of tension; and, as La Fayette had promised those skilful surgeons to support the pain with patience as long as they might judge it necessary for his cure, he uttered not a single complaint for the fifteen or twenty days during which the apparatus was applied. When it was removed, the surgeons were unable to conceal the annoyance they felt at the effect produced by the bandages. Deschamp turned pale; Boyer was stupefied; the upper bandages had, by their pressure, cut deeply into the muscles of the inside of the thigh, and laid bare the femoral artery: the action of the lower ones had been less violent, but they had produced a mortification of the skin at the back part of the foot and laid bare the tendons of the toes. In consequence of La Fayette’s stoical fortitude, the vigilance of his surgeons was completely at fault. Deep scars bore evidence of the truth of one of his observations to us, uttered, however, in confidence, through an apprehension of injuring, not the interests, but the memory of two individuals for whom he felt gratitude, although their exertions on his behalf had been unsuccessful. A length of time elapsed before he recovered from the lamentable consequences which resulted from his medical treatment, and which were followed by an almost complete anchylosis and lameness of the hip-joint.” La Fayette’s frankness of nature was proverbial. An intimate friend of the family, Madame Dupaty, said of him:— “To appreciate his frankness you must have known him as thoroughly as we did. He was too honest not to leave his keys always in the locks, even in politics.” La Fayette’s conversation was graceful, easy, full of good humor, and peculiarly charming, without descending to frivolity. He was quick at repartee, and apt in uttering _bon mots_, as the following incidents will illustrate:— “When he was arrested by the Austrians in 1792, an aide-de-camp of Prince de ——, the enemy’s general, came to him, on behalf of his superior, to demand the money of the army which he had been obliged to leave. La Fayette, astonished at the demand, laughed heartily; and when the aide-de-camp advised him to take the matter more seriously, ‘How can I help laughing?’ said he; ‘for all that I can understand of your demand is, that had your prince been in my place he would have run away with the military chest.’ The aide-de-camp had nothing to say in reply, took leave of the prisoner, and departed as he came.”