It is just through this breach that hope steals like a beam of light， and gradually finds its way down to the depths below. For the last fifty years it has been rising， and its rays， which first illuminated the upper class in their splendid apartments in the first story， and next the middle class in their entresol and on the ground floor. They have now for two years penetrated to the cellars where the people toil， and even to the deep sinks and obscure corners where rogues and vagabonds and malefactors， a foul and swarming herd， crowd and hide themselves from the persecution of the law. -- To the first two provincial assemblies instituted by Necker in 1778 and 1779， Loménie de Brienne has in 1787 just added nineteen others； under each of these are assemblies of the arrondissement， under each assembly of the arrondissement are parish assemblies[8].
Thus the whole machinery of administration has been changed. It is the new assemblies which assess the taxes and superintend their collection； which determine upon and direct all public works； and which form the court of final appeal in regard to matters in dispute. The intendant， the sub-delegate， the elected representative[9]， thus lose three-quarters of their authority.
Conflicts arise， consequently， between rival powers whose frontiers are not clearly defined； command shifts about， and obedience is diminished. The subject no longer feels on his shoulders the commanding weight of the one hand which， without possibility of interference or resistance， held him in， urged him forward， and made him move on. Meanwhile， in each assembly of the parish arrondissement， and even of the province， plebeians， "husband-men，"[10] and often common farmers， sit by the side of lords and prelates. They listen to and remember the vast figure of the taxes which are paid exclusively， or almost exclusively， by them -- the taille and its accessories， the poll-tax and road dues， and assuredly on their return home they talk all this over with their neighbor. These figures are all printed； the village attorney discusses the matter with his clients， the artisans and rustics， on Sunday as they leave the mass， or in the evening in the large public room of the tavern. These little gatherings， moreover， are sanctioned， encouraged by the powers above. In the earliest days of 1788 the provincial assemblies order a board of inquiry to be held by the syndics and inhabitants of each parish. Knowledge is wanted in detail of their grievances. What part of the revenue is chargeable to each impost？ What must the cultivator pay and how much does he suffer？ How many privileged persons there are in the parish， what is the amount of their fortune， are they residents， and what their exemptions amount to？ In replying， the attorney who holds the pen， names and points out with his finger each privileged individual， criticizes his way of living， and estimates his fortune， calculates the injury done to the village by his immunities， inveighs against the taxes and the tax-collectors. On leaving these assemblies the villager broods over what he has just heard. He sees his grievances no longer singly as before， but in mass， and coupled with the enormity of evils under which his fellows suffer. Besides this， they begin to disentangle the causes of their misery： the King is good -- why then do his collectors take so much of our money？
This or that canon or nobleman is not unkind -- why then do they make us pay in their place？ -- Imagine that a sudden gleam of reason should allow a beast of burden to comprehend the contrast between the species of horse and mankind. Imagine， if you can， what its first ideas would be in relation to the coachmen and drivers who bridle and whip it and again in relation to the good-natured travelers and sensitive ladies who pity it， but who to the weight of the vehicle add their own and that of their luggage.