My son is gone to Paris. My wife and my two daughters, who
love you as a brother, present you with the sincere,
grateful expressions of their friendship. The last word
George told me at his setting out was not to forget him in
my letter to you. He will accompany me to America.

Adieu, my dear Huger, I shall to the last moment of my
life be wholly

Yours,
LAFAYETTE.

The wish to revisit the land of his adoption was strong, but many
years were to pass before it could be carried out. He was forty years
old when he was liberated from Olmuetz, and he was sixty-seven when he
paid his last visit to our shores.

He little dreamed of the reception he was to find, for the whole
American people were waiting to greet, with heart and soul, the man who,
in his youth, had taken so noble a part in their struggle for freedom.
He reached New York on the 16th of August, 1824. He came with modest
expectation of some honorable attentions--nothing more. On the _Cadmus_
he asked a fellow-traveler about the cost of stopping at American hotels
and of traveling in steamboats and by stage; of this his secretary, M.
Levasseur, made exact note. He came to visit the interesting scenes of
his youth and to enjoy a reunion with a few surviving friends and
compatriots. Instead, he found a whole country arising with one vast
impulse to do him honor. It was not mere formality; it was a burst of
whole-souled welcome from an entire nation. So astonished was he, so
overcome, to find a great demonstration awaiting him, where he had
expected to land quietly and to engage private lodgings, that his eyes
overflowed with tears.

The harbor of New York was entered on a Sunday. He was asked to accept
a sumptuous entertainment on Staten Island till Monday, when he could
be received by the city with more honor. On that day citizens and
officers, together with old Revolutionary veterans, attended him. Amid
the shouting of two hundred thousand voices he reached the Battery.
The band played "See the Conquering Hero Comes," the "Marseillaise,"
and "Hail, Columbia." Lafayette had never dreamed of such a reception
or of such sweeps of applause. The simple-hearted loyalty of the
American people had a chance to show itself, and their enthusiasm knew
no bounds. Lafayette's face beamed with joy. Four white horses bore
him to the City Hall, while his son,