One privilege remains the most considerable of all， that of the king； for， in his staff of hereditary nobles he is the hereditary general. His office， indeed， is not a sinecure， like their rank； but it involves quite as grave disadvantages and worse temptations. Two things are pernicious to Man， the lack of occupation and the lack of restraint； neither inactivity nor omnipotence are in harmony with his nature. The absolute prince who is all-powerful， like the listless aristocracy with nothing to do， in the end become useless and mischievous. - In grasping all powers the king insensibly took upon himself all functions； an immense undertaking and one surpassing human strength. For it is the Monarchy， and not the Revolution， which endowed France with administrative centralization [32]. Three functionaries， one above the other， manage all public business under the direction of the king's council； the comptroller-general at the center， the intendant in each generalship，[33] the sub-delegate in each election， fixing， apportioning and levying taxes and the militia， laying out and building highways， employing the national police force， distributing succor， regulating cultivation， imposing their tutelage on the parishes， and treating municipal magistrates as valets. "Avillage，" says Turgot，[34] "is simply an assemblage of houses and huts， and of inhabitants equally passive. . . . Your Majesty is obliged to decide wholly by yourself or through your mandataries. . .
. Each awaits your special instructions to contribute to the public good， to respect the rights of others， and even sometimes to exercise his own." Consequently， adds Necker， "the government of France is carried on in the bureaux. . ..The clerks， relishing their influence， never fail to persuade the minister that he cannot separate himself from command in a single detail." Bureaucratic at the center， arbitrariness， exceptions and favors everywhere， such is a summary of the system. "Sub-delegates， officers of elections， receivers and comptrollers of the vingtièmes， commissaires and collectors of the tailles， officers of the salt-tax， process-servers， voituriers-buralistes， overseers of the corvées， clerks of the excise， of the registry， and of dues reserved， all these men belonging to the tax-service. Each of these will， aided by his fiscal knowledge and petty authority， so overwhelm the ignorant and inexperienced tax payer that he does not recognize that he is being cheated." [35] A rude species of centralization with no control over it， with no publicity， without uniformity， thus installs over the whole country an army of petty pashas who， as judges， decide causes in which they are themselves contestants， ruling by delegation， and， to sanction their theft or their insolence， always having on their lips the name of the king， who is obliged to let them do as they please. - In short， the machine， through its complexity， irregularity， and dimensions， escapes from his grasp. A Frederick II. who rises at four o'clock in the morning， a Napoleon who dictates half the night in his bath， and who works eighteen hours a day， would scarcely suffice for its needs. Such a régime cannot operate without constant strain， without indefatigable energy， without infallible discernment， without military rigidity， without superior genius； on these conditions alone can one convert twenty-five millions of men into automatons and substitute his own will， lucid throughout， coherent throughout and everywhere present， for the wills of those he abolishes. Louis XV lets "the good machine"work by itself， while he settles down into apathy. "They would have it so， they thought it all for the best，"[36] is his manner of speaking when ministerial measures prove unsuccessful. "If I were a lieutenant of the police，" he would say again， "I would prohibit cabs." In vain is he aware of the machine being dislocated， for he can do nothing and he causes nothing to be done. In the event of misfortune he has a private reserve， his purse apart. "The king，" said Mme. de Pompadour， "would sign away a million without thinking of it， but he would scarcely bestow a hundred louis out of his own little treasury." -Louis XVI strives for some time to remove some of the wheels， to introduce better ones and to reduce the friction of the rest； but the pieces are too rusty， and too weighty. He cannot adjust them， or harmonize them and keep them in their places； his hand falls by his side wearied and powerless. He is content to practice economy himself；he records in his journal the mending of his watch， and leaves the State carriage in the hands of Calonne to be loaded with fresh abuses that it may revert back to the old rut from which it is to issue only by breaking down.
