We do not care to question the merits of the states-general of 1484; we have but lately striven to bring them to light, and we doubt not but that the enduring influence of their example and their sufferings counted for much in the progress of good government during the reign of Louis XII.  It is an honor to France to have always resumed and pursued from crisis to crisis, through a course of many sufferings, mistakes, and tedious gaps, the work of her political enfranchisement and the foundation of a regimen of freedom and legality in the midst of the sole monarchy which so powerfully contributed to her strength and her greatness.  The states-general of 1484, in spite of their rebuffs and long years after their separation, held an honorable place in the history of this difficult and tardy work; but Louis XII.’s personal share in the good home-government of France during his reign was also great and meritorious.  His chief merit, a rare one amongst the powerful of the earth, especially when there is a question of reforms and of liberty, was that he understood and entertained the requirements and wishes of his day; he was a mere young prince of the blood when the states of 1484 were sitting at Tours; but he did not forget them when he was king, and, far from repudiating their patriotic and modest work in the cause of reform and progress, he entered into it sincerely and earnestly with the aid of Cardinal d’Amboise, his honest, faithful, and ever influential councillor.  The character and natural instincts of Louis XII. inclined him towards the same views as his intelligence and moderation in politics suggested.  He was kind, sympathetic towards his people, and anxious to spare them every burden and every suffering that was unnecessary, and to have justice, real and independent justice, rendered to all.  He reduced the talliages a tenth at first and a third at a later period.  He refused to accept the dues usual on a joyful accession.  When the wars in Italy caused him some extraordinary expense, he disposed of a portion of the royal possessions, strictly administered as they were, before imposing fresh burdens upon the people.  His court was inexpensive, and he had no favorites to enrich.  His economy became proverbial; it was sometimes made a reproach to him; and things were carried so far that he was represented, on the stage of a popular theatre, ill, pale, and surrounded by doctors, who were holding a consultation as to the nature of his malady:  they at last agreed to give him a potion of gold to take; the sick man at once sat up, complaining of nothing more than a burning thirst.  When informed of this scandalous piece of buffoonery, Louis contented himself with saying, “I had rather make courtiers laugh by my stinginess than my people weep by my extravagance.”  He was pressed to punish some insolent comedians; but, “No,” said he, “amongst their ribaldries they may sometimes tell us useful truths let them amuse themselves, provided that they respect