ve evil was forgotten.

A Chamber of Justice was next instituted to inquire into the malversations
of the loan-contractors and the farmers of the revenues. Tax-collectors
are never very popular in any country, but those of France at this period
deserved all the odium with which they were loaded. As soon as these
farmers-general, with all their hosts of subordinate agents, called
_maltotiers_,[4] were called to account for their misdeeds, the most
extravagant joy took possession of the nation. The Chamber of Justice,
instituted chiefly for this purpose, was endowed with very extensive
powers. It was composed of the presidents and councils of the parliament,
the judges of the Courts of Aid and of Requests, and the officers of the
Chamber of Account, under the general presidence of the minister of
finance. Informers were encouraged to give evidence against the offenders
by the promise of one-fifth part of the fines and confiscations. A tenth
of all concealed effects belonging to the guilty was promised to such as
should furnish the means of discovering them.

[4] From _maltote_, an oppressive tax.

The promulgation of the edict constituting this court caused a degree of
consternation among those principally concerned, which can only be
accounted for on the supposition that their peculation had been enormous.
But they met with no sympathy. The proceedings against them justified
their terror. The Bastille was soon unable to contain the prisoners that
were sent to it, and the gaols all over the country teemed with guilty or
suspected persons. An order was issued to all innkeepers and postmasters
to refuse horses to such as endeavoured to seek safety in flight; and all
persons were forbidden, under heavy fines, to harbour them or favour their
evasion. Some were condemned to the pillory, others to the galleys, and
the least guilty to fine and imprisonment. One only, Samuel Bernard, a
rich banker and farmer-general of a province remote from the capital, was
sentenced to death. So great had been the illegal profits of this
man,--looked upon as the tyrant and oppressor of his district,--that he
offered six millions of livres, or 250,000l. sterling, to be allowed to
escape.

His bribe was refused, and he suffered the penalty of death. Others,
perhaps more guilty, were more fortunate. Confiscation, owing to the
concealment of their treasures by the delinquents, often produced less
money than a fine. The severity of the govern