Poor Louis! the one could be made with pen and paper; but by what miracle could he produce the other?  How gladly would he have given them anything.  But what could he do?  There was not enough money to pay the salaries of his officials, nor for his gay young queen’s fetes and balls!  The old way would have been to impose new taxes.  But how could he tax a people crying at his gates for bread?  He made more promises which he could not keep; yielded, one after another, concessions of authority and dignity; then vacillated, and tried to return over the slippery path, only to be dragged on again by an irresistible fate.

Louis’ Minister of Finance, Turgot, was a trained economist and a man of very great ability.  When Louis assured the people, in the speech after his coronation, that there were to be “no more loans, no fresh burdens on the people,” he did not know how Turgot was going to accomplish this miracle.  He was unaware that it was to be done by cutting off the cherished privileges of the nobility, and that the proposed reforms were all aimed at the privileged classes.  When this became apparent, indignation was great at Versailles.  The court would not hear of economy.  Turgot was dismissed, and Necker, a Swiss banker (father of Madame de Stael), called to fill his place.

Necker made another mistake.  He took the people into his confidence, let them know the sources of revenue, the nature of expenditures, and measures of relief.  This was very quieting to the public, but exasperating to the privileged classes, who had never taken the people into their confidence, and considered it an impertinence for them to inquire how the moneys were spent.  And so Louis, again yielding to the pressure at Versailles, dismissed Necker; then, in the outburst of rage which followed, tried to retrace his steps and recall him.

But events were moving too swiftly for that now.  In the existing temper of the people, small reforms and concessions were unavailing.  They were demanding that the States General be called.

The critical moment had come.  If Louis of his own initiative had summoned that body to confer over the situation, it would have been a very different thing; but a call of the States-General at the demand of the people was a virtual surrender of the very principle of absolutism.  The work of Richelieu, Mazarin, and Louis XIV. would be undone; for it would involve an acknowledgment of the right of the people to dictate to the king, and to participate in the government of the nation.  The whole revolutionary contention was vindicated in this act.

The call was issued; and when Louis, in 1789, convoked the States General, he made his last concession to the demands of his subjects.

That almost-forgotten body had not been seen since Richelieu effaced all the auxiliary functions of government.  Nobles, ecclesiastics, and Tiers Etat (or commons) found themselves face to face once more.  The courtly contemptuous nobles, the princely ecclesiastics were unchanged, but there was a new expression in the pale faces of the commons.  There was a look of calm defiance as they met the disdainful gaze of the aristocrats across the gulf of two centuries.