France, which insulted the memory of the heroic old man, was on its knees before a child. September 12, an enormous crowd was surging around the palace of the Parliament in Paris. Little Louis XV. alighted from his carriage amidst acclamations, and formally entered the palace. He took off his hat, and then, replacing it on his head, said graciously: “Gentlemen, I have come here to assure you of my affection. Monsieur the Chancellor will acquaint you with my will.” And the first president responded: “We are all eager to contemplate you upon your bed of justice like the image of God on earth.”
“Princes are badly brought up,” says the Marquis d’Argenson. “Nothing flatters and nothing corrects them.” Ought not one to be indulgent toward a prince to whom his governor, Marshal Villeray, kept repeating on the balcony of the Tuileries: “Look, master, look at these people; well! they are all yours, they all belong to you.” The regent said to the little monarch: “I am here only to render you my accounts, to offer matters for your consideration, to receive and execute your orders.” The child thought himself a man already.