[On the 19th of October, that is to say, thirteen days after he had taken up his abode at Paris, the King went, on foot and almost alone, to review some detachments of the National Guard.  After the review Louis XVI. met with a child sweeping the street, who asked him for money.  The child called the King “M. le Chevalier.”  His Majesty gave him six francs.  The little sweeper, surprised at receiving so large a sum, cried out, “Oh!  I have no change; you will give me money another time.”  A person who accompanied the monarch said to the child, “Keep it all, my friend; the gentleman is not chevalier, he is the eldest of the family.”—­Note by the editor.]

The day after the arrival of the Court at Paris, terrified at hearing some noise in the gardens of the Tuileries, the young prince threw himself into the arms of the Queen, crying out, “Grand-Dieu, mamma! will it be yesterday over again?” A few days after this affecting exclamation, he went up to the King, and looked at him with a pensive air.  The King asked him what he wanted; he answered, that he had something very serious to say to him.  The King having prevailed on him to explain himself, the young Prince asked why his people, who formerly loved him so well, were all at once angry with him; and what he had done to irritate them so much.  His father took him upon his knees, and spoke to him nearly as follows:  “I wished, child, to render the people still happier than they were; I wanted money to pay the expenses occasioned by wars.  I asked my people for money, as my predecessors have always done; magistrates, composing the Parliament, opposed it, and said that my people alone had a right to consent to it.  I assembled the principal inhabitants of every town, whether distinguished by birth, fortune, or talents, at Versailles; that is what is called the States General.  When they were assembled they required concessions of me which I could not make, either with due respect for myself or with justice to you, who will be my successor; wicked men inducing the people to rise have occasioned the excesses of the last few days; the people must not be blamed for them.”

The Queen made the young Prince clearly comprehend that he ought to treat the commanders of battalions, the officers of the National Guard, and all the Parisians who were about him, with affability; the child took great pains to please all those people, and when he had had an opportunity of replying obligingly to the mayor or members of the commune he came and whispered in his mother’s ear, “Was that right?”

He requested M. Bailly to show him the shield of Scipio, which is in the royal library; and M. Bailly asking him which he preferred, Scipio or Hannibal, the young Prince replied, without hesitation, that he preferred him who had defended his own country.  He gave frequent proofs of ready wit.  One day, while the Queen was hearing Madame repeat her exercises in ancient history, the young Princess could not at the moment recollect the name of the Queen of Carthage; the Dauphin was vexed at his sister’s want of memory, and though he never spoke to her in the second person singular, he bethought himself of the expedient of saying to her, “But ‘dis donc’ the name of the Queen, to mamma; ‘dis donc’ what her name was.”