Thirteen years later, a variety of causes, some of which will be unfolded in the course of this narrative, had contributed to irritate the impatience of the nation, while the unskillfulness of the existing minister had disarmed the royal authority.  And the very same reforms which would now have been accepted with general thankfulness were then only used by demagogues as a pretext for further inflaming the minds of the multitude against every thing which bore the slightest appearance of authority, even against the very sovereign who had granted them.  France and all Europe to this day feel the sad effects of Marie Antoinette’s interference.

She had given fatal proof of the truth of the words wrung from her by nervous excitement at the moment of the late king’s death, when she declared that Louis and she were too young to reign; and the best excuse that can be found for her is that she was not yet one-and-twenty.  It was not, however, wholly from submission to the interested malevolence of others that she had shown herself the enemy of the great financier and statesman.  She had a spontaneous dislike to the retrenchments which necessarily formed a great portion of his economical measures; not as interfering with the indulgence of any extravagant tastes of her own, but as restraining her power of gratifying her friends.  For she was entirely impressed with the idea that no person or body could have any right to call in question the king’s disposal of the national revenue; and that there was no prerogative of the crown of which the exercise was more becoming to the royal dignity than that of granting pensions or creating sinecures with no limitations but such as might be imposed by his own will or discretion.  And on this point her husband fully shared her feelings.  “What,” said he, on one occasion to Turgot, who was urging him to refuse an utterly unwarrantable application for a pension.  “What are a thousand crowns a year?” “Sire,” replied the minister, “they are the taxation of a village.”  The king acquiesced for the moment, but probably not without some secret wincing at the control to which he seemed to be subjected; and we may, perhaps, suppose that even the queen’s disapproval of the minister would have been less effectual had it not been re-enforced by the king’s own feelings.

In fact, that the part which she took against the great minister was the fruit of mere inconsiderateness and ignorance of the feelings and necessities of the nation, and that, if she had known the depth of the people’s distress, and the degree in which it was caused by the viciousness of the whole existing system of government, she would gladly have promoted every measure which could tend to their relief, we may find abundant proof in a letter which she had written to her mother, a few weeks earlier.  Maria Teresa had spoken with some harshness of the French fickleness.  Marie Antoinette replies:[7]