occasion to excite the enthusiasm of the Convention:  Coupilleau de Fontenay, one of the “mild and moderate party”, repulsed the petitioners with harshness, and their claim was silenced by a call for the order of the day.  The poor Renauds were afterwards coldly referred to the Committee of Relief, for a pittance, by way of charity, instead of the property they have a right to, and which they have been deprived of, by the base compliance of the Convention with the caprice of a monster.

Such relapses and aberrations are not consolatory, but the times and circumstances seem to oppose them—­the whole fabric of despotism is shaken, and we have reason to hope the efforts of tyranny will be counteracted by its weakness.

We do not yet derive any advantage from the early maturity of the harvest, and it is still with difficulty we obtain a limited portion of bad bread.  Severe decrees are enacted to defeat the avarice of the farmers, and prevent monopolies of the new corn; but these people are invulnerable:  they have already been at issue with the system of terror—­ and it was found necessary, even before the death of Robespierre, to release them from prison, or risk the destruction of the harvest for want of hands to get it in.  It is now discovered, that natural causes, and the selfishness of individuals, are adequate to the creation of a temporary scarcity; yet when this happened under the King, it was always ascribed to the machinations of government.—­How have the people been deceived, irritated, and driven to rebellion, by a degree of want, less, much less, insupportable than that they are obliged to suffer at present, without daring even to complain!

I have now been in confinement almost twelve months, and my health is considerably impaired.  The weather is oppressively warm, and we have no shade in the garden but under a mulberry-tree, which is so surrounded by filth, that it is not approachable.  I am, however, told, that in a few days, on account of my indisposition, I shall be permitted to go home, though with a proviso of being guarded at my own expence.—­My friends are still at Arras; and if this indulgence be extended to Mad. de la F____, she will accompany me.  Personal accommodation, and an opportunity of restoring my health, render this desirable; but I associate no idea of freedom with my residence in this country.  The boundary may be extended, but it is still a prison.—­Yours.

Providence, Aug. 15, 1794.

To-morrow I expect to quit this place, and have been wandering over it for the last time.  You will imagine I can have no attachment to it:  yet a retrospect of my sensations when I first arrived, of all I have experienced, and still more of what I have apprehended since that period, makes me look forward to my departure with a satisfaction that I might almost call melancholy.  This cell, where I have shivered through the winter—­the long passages, which I have so often traversed in bitter rumination—­the