The Revocation of the Edict of Nantes, one of the greatest crimes and
follies which history records, was too colossal a misdeed for the guilt
of its perpetration to be charged upon one man, however wicked or however
powerful he may have been. In this case, as in so many others, Louis was
the exponent of conditions, the visible representative of circumstances
which he had done nothing to create. Just as he was the strongest king
France ever had, without having contributed himself to the predominance of
the monarchy, so, in the blind and cruel policy of intolerance which led to
the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes, he was the delegate and instrument
of forces which existed independently of him. A willing instrument, no
doubt; a representative of sinister forces; a chooser of the evil part when
mere inaction would have been equivalent to a choice of the good. Still, it
is due to historic accuracy to point out that, had he not been seconded by
the existing condition of France, he would not have been able to effect the
evil he ultimately brought about.

Louis' reign continued thirty years after the Revocation of the Edict of
Nantes, years crowded with events, particularly for the military historian,
but over the details of which we shall not linger on this occasion. The
brilliant reign becomes unbearably wearisome in its final period. The
monotonous repetition of the same faults and the same crimes--profligate
extravagance, revolting cruelty, and tottering incapacity--is as fatiguing
as it is uninstructive. Louis became a mere mummy embalmed in etiquette,
the puppet of his women and shavelings. The misery in the provinces grew
apace, but there was no disturbance: France was too prostrate even to
groan.

In 1712 the expenditure amounted to two hundred forty millions, and the
revenue to one hundred thirteen millions; but from this no less than