As soon as Lewis was again at Marli, he repeated to the Court
assembled there the announcement which he had made at Saint
Germains. The whole circle broke forth into exclamations of
delight and admiration. What piety! What humanity! What
magnanimity! Nor was this enthusiasm altogether feigned. For, in
the estimation of the greater part of that brilliant crowd,
nations were nothing and princes every thing. What could be more
generous, more amiable, than to protect an innocent boy, who was
kept out of his rightful inheritance by an ambitious kinsman? The
fine gentlemen and fine ladies who talked thus forgot that,
besides the innocent boy and that ambitious kinsman, five
millions and a half of Englishmen were concerned, who were little
disposed to consider themselves as the absolute property of any
master, and who were still less disposed to accept a master
chosen for them by the French King.

James lingered three days longer. He was occasionally sensible
during a few minutes, and, during one of these lucid intervals,
faintly expressed his gratitude to Lewis. On the sixteenth he
died. His Queen retired that evening to the nunnery of Chaillot,
where she could weep and pray undisturbed. She left Saint
Germains in joyous agitation. A herald made his appearance before
the palace gate, and, with sound of trumpet, proclaimed, in
Latin, French and English, King James the Third of England and
Eighth of Scotland. The streets, in consequence doubtless of
orders from the government, were illuminated; and the townsmen
with loud shouts wished a long reign to their illustrious
neighbour. The poor lad received from his ministers, and
delivered back to them, the seals of their offices, and held out
his hand to be kissed. One of the first acts of his mock reign