Louis XVIII.
“There is no etiquette requisite when we talk to our friends:” such was the kind encouragement given to me by the benevolent Louis XVIII. of France, when I expressed my apprehension that the deep interest of the subject on which he permitted me to address him, might so engross my feelings as to render me, (in appearance,) unmindful of the respectful deference due to his exalted station; and with truth did the monarch honour me by designating himself as a friend. At his death I had not to regret only the loss of a sovereign whose condescending kindness admitted the petitioner to his presence, but also those lengthened conversations in which were displayed the brilliant emanations of his highly cultivated mind, and the fruits of deep classical research: or did I only lament the deprivation of his royal bounties. I wept for the loss of the beneficent being, whose heart had expanded in sympathy to the sorrows of a widowed mother, whose gracious recollections honoured a father’s grave, and to whom in the hour of trial I never appealed in vain. Would that my words could do justice to the devoted veneration my heart bears him! Wit and eloquence were his to a supreme degree. None ever possessed to a greater extent the talent of saying that which was appropriate, kind, or conciliating. In his language he reminded me of the fairy tale, which describes pearls, diamonds, and precious stones as falling from the lips of the speaker.