position tres critique—­Je voudrois bien voir la fin de tout cela;" ["God knows, we are very miserable at present—­we are in a very critical situation—­I should like to see an end of all this.”] you may be sure he languishes for the restoration of the monarchy, and hopes with equal fervor, that he may live to see the Convention hanged.  In these sort of conferences, however, evaporates all their courage.  They own their country is undone, that they are governed by a set of brigands, go home and hide any set of valuables they have not already secreted, and receive with obsequious complaisance the next visite domiciliaire.

The mass of the people, with as little energy, have more obstinacy, and are, of course, not quite so tractable.  But, though they grumble and procrastinate, they do not resist; and their delays and demurs usually terminate in implicit submission.

The Deputy-commissioners, whom I have mentioned above, have been at Amiens some time, in order to promote the levying of recruits.  On Sundays and holidays they summoned the inhabitants to attend at the cathedral, where they harangued them on the subject, called for vengeance on the coalesced despots, expatiated on the love of glory, and insisted on the pleasure of dying for one’s country:  while the people listened with vacant attention, amused themselves with the paintings, or adjourned in small committees to discuss the hardship of being obliged to fight without inclination.—­Thus time elapsed, the military orations produced no effect, and no troops were raised:  no one would enlist voluntarily, and all refused to settle it by lot, because, as they wisely observed, the lot must fall on somebody.  Yet, notwithstanding the objection, the matter was at length decided by this last method.  The decision had no sooner taken place, than another difficulty ensued—­those who escaped acknowledged it was the best way that could be devised; but those who were destined to the frontiers refused to go.  Various altercations, and excuses, and references, were the consequence; yet, after all this murmuring and evasion, the presence of the Commissioners and a few dragoons have arranged the business very pacifically; many are already gone, and the rest will (if the dragoons continue here) soon follow.

This, I assure you, is a just statement of the account between the Convention and the People:  every thing is effected by fear—­nothing by attachment; and the one is obeyed only because the other want courage to resist.—­Yours, &c.

Rouen, March 31, 1793.

Rouen, like most of the great towns in France, is what is called decidedly aristocratic; that is, the rich are discontented because they are without security, and the poor because they want bread.  But these complaints are not peculiar to large places; the causes of them equally exist in the smallest village, and the only difference which fixes the imputation of aristocracy on one more than the other, is, daring to murmur, or submitting in silence.