The third estate, on the contrary, in naming its representatives, had to traverse three stages. Eight days at latest after having received the notification, the inhabitants composing the tiers état in the towns and country parishes, above the age of twenty-five, were invited to unite in their usual place of assembly, before the justice, or, in his default, before their syndic, for the purpose of naming a number of delegates, the number being proportioned to the population--two for two hundred fires and under, three for more than two hundred, four for three hundred and over, and so on, in progression. These delegates were required to betake themselves to the seat of the secondary bailiwick of their arrondissement, and there elect one quarter of their number. Those who had passed this ordeal were next bound to transport themselves to the principal bailiwick, and there, united with the deputies of that particular arrondissement of the bailiwick, and with the delegates of the town corporations, to form, under the presidence of the lieutenant-general, a college to which was remitted the final election of deputies. Such organization had this advantage,--it gave to the elections, at a period when the relations of men with each other were much more limited than they are at present, guarantees of sincerity which they could not have had by direct universal suffrage. At each stage the electors knew those who solicited their votes. A communication was established through an uninterrupted chain of confidential trusts, from the most humble member of the primary assemblies to the delegates sent to Versailles from the grand colleges. On Monday, the 16th March, 1789, seven hundred and fifty ecclesiastics, four hundred and thirty nobles, and three hundred deputies of the third estate, assembled in Évreux for the final election of delegates. At eight o’clock in the morning, the great bell of the Cathedral boomed over the city to announce the opening of the first session. From the summit of the central spire floated a white standard, powdered with golden lilies. Ropes had been flung across the streets, and from them were slung banners and flags bearing patriotic inscriptions, ‘Vive le Roy!’ and ‘Vive les États Généraux.’ The lilies of France fluttered from the windows of the barracks, the hospital, and the Palais de Justice. The weather was cold. The winter had been of unprecedented severity, and the snow was not gone. On the north side of the Cathedral it was heaped between the buttresses in dirty patches. It glittered on the leaden roof of the aisles. In the streets it was kneaded into black mud; it lurked white and glaring in corners. Women had been up at daybreak sweeping the slush from their door-steps, and making the causeway before their houses look as clean as the season permitted. The limes in the palace-garden had not disclosed a leaf; the buds were only beginning to swell.