Chapter 5

_October 5th._

From a military, or rather an engineering point of view, Paris is stronger to-day than it was two weeks ago. The defences have been strengthened. With respect, however, to its defenders, they are much what they were. The soldiers of the line and the marines are soldiers; the Mobiles and the Nationaux, with some few exceptions, remain armed citizens. Each battalion is an _imperium in imperio_. The men ignore every one except their own officers, and these officers exercise but little influence except when they consent to act in strict accordance with the feelings of those whom they are supposed to command. Some of the battalions appear to be anxious to fight, but it unfortunately happens that these are the very ones which are most undisciplined. The battalions of the _bourgeois_ quarters obey orders, but there is no go in them. The battalions of the artizan Faubourgs have plenty of go, but they do not obey orders. General Trochu either cannot, or does not, desire to enforce military discipline. Outside the enceinte, the hands of the Mobiles are against every man, but no notice is taken when they fire at or arrest officers of other corps. The Courts-martial which sit are a mere farce. I see that yesterday a Franc-tireur was tried for breaking his musket when ordered to march. He was acquitted because the court came to the conclusion that he was "un brave garçon." The application of military law to the Nationaux is regarded by these citizens as an act of arbitrary power. Yesterday several battalions passed the following resolution:--"In order to preserve at once necessary discipline and the rights of citizens, no man shall henceforward be brought before a council of war, or be awarded a punishment, except with the consent of the family council of his company."

I am not a military man, but it certainly does appear to me strange that the Prussians are allowed quietly to entrench themselves round the city, and that they are not disturbed by feints and real sorties. We can act on the inner lines, we have got a circular railroad, and we have armed men in numbers. General Trochu has announced that he has a plan, the success of which he guarantees; he declines to confide to a soul any of its details, but he announces that he has deposited it with his notary, Maître Duclos, in order that it may not be lost to the world in the event of his being killed. As yet no one has fathomed this mysterious plan; it appears to contemplate defensive rather than offensive operations.

Mont Valérien now fires daily. Its commander has been changed; its former one has been removed because the protests against the silence of this fort were so loud and strong. His successor, with the fate of his predecessor before him, bangs away at every Uhlan within sight. For the commanders of forts to be forced to keep up a continual fire in order to satisfy public opinion, is not an encouraging state of things. The assertion of the Government, that no reports of what is going on in France have been received from Tours, is discredited. They have got themselves in a mess by their former declarations that communications with the exterior were kept up; for if they know nothing, it is asked what can these communications have been worth. Our last news from outside is derived from a Rouen newspaper of the 29th ult., which is published to-day.

A few days ago it was announced that all pledges below the value of 20fr. would be returned by the Mont-de-Piété without payment. Since then everyone has been pledging articles for sums below this amount, as a second decree of the same nature is expected. It is not a bad plan to give relief in this manner to those in want. As yet, however, there is no absolute destitution, and as long as the provisions last I do not think that there will be. So long as flour and meat last, everyone with more or less trouble will get his share. As the amount of both these articles is, however, finite, one of these days we shall hear that they are exhausted. The proprietors have been deprived of their power to sue for rents, consequently a family requires but little ready money to rub on from hand to mouth. My landlord every week presents me with my bill. The ceremony seems to please him, and does me no harm. I have pasted upon my mantlepiece the decree of the Government adjourning payment of rent, and the right to read and re-read this document is all that he will get from me until the end of the siege. Yesterday I ordered myself a warm suit of clothes; I chose a tailor with a German name, so I feel convinced that he will not venture to ask for payment under the present circumstances, and if he does he will not get it. If my funds run out before the siege is over I shall have at least the pleasure to think that this has not been caused by improvidence.

Some acquaintances of mine managed in the course of yesterday to get out to Villejuif without being arrested. I have not been so fortunate. I have charged the _barrières_ three times, and each time have had to retire discomfited. My friends describe the soldiers of the line in the front as utterly despising their allies the Mobiles. They camp out without tents, in order to be ready at any moment to resist an attack.

_October 7th._

Paris would hardly be recognised under its present aspect by those citizens of the Far West who are in the habit of regarding it as a place where good Americans go when they die. In the garden of the Tuileries, where _bonnes_ used to flirt with guardsmen, there is an artillery camp. The guns, the pickets of horses, the tents, the camp-fires, and the soldiers in their shirt-sleeves, have a picturesque effect under the great trees. On the Place de la Concorde from morning to evening there is a mob discussing things in general, and watching the regiments as they defile with their crowns before the statue of Strasburg. In the morning the guns of the forts can be heard heavily booming; but the sound has now lost its novelty, and no one pays more attention to it than the miller to the wheel of his mill. In the Champs Elysées there are no private carriages, and few persons sitting on the chairs. The Palais de l'Industrie is the central ambulance; the Cirque de l'Impératrice a barrack. All the cafés chantants are closed. Some few youthful votaries of pleasure still patronise the merry-go-rounds; but the business cannot be a lucrative one. Along the quays by the river side there are cavalry and infantry regiments under tentes d'abri. The Champ de Mars is a camp. In most of the squares there are sheep and oxen. On the outer Boulevards lines of huts have been built for the Mobiles, and similar huts are being erected along the Rue des Remparts for the Nationaux on duty. Everywhere there are squads of Nationaux, some learning the goose-step, others practising skirmishing between the carts and fiacres, others levelling their guns and snapping them off at imaginary Prussians. The omnibuses are crowded; and I fear greatly that their horses will be far from tender when we eat them. The cabbies, once so haughty and insolent, are humble and conciliatory, for Brutus and Scævola have taught them manners, and usually pay their fares in patriotic speeches. At the Arc de Triomphe, at the Trocadero, and at Passy, near the Point du Jour, there are always crowds trying to see the Prussians on the distant hills, and in the Avenue de l'Impératrice (now the Avenue Uhrich), there are always numerous admirers of Mont Valérien gazing silently upon the object of their worship. In the Faubourg St. Antoine workmen are lounging about doing nothing, and watching others drilling. In the outer faubourgs much the same thing goes on, except where barricades are being built. Round each of these there is always a crowd of men and women, apparently expecting the enemy to assault them every moment. At the different gates of the town there are companies of Mobiles and National Guards, who sternly repel every civilian who seeks to get through them. On an average of every ten minutes, no matter where one is, one meets either a battalion of Nationaux or Mobiles, marching somewhere. The asphalt of the boulevards, that sacred ground of dandies and smart dresses, is deserted during the daytime. In the evening for about two hours it is thronged by Nationaux with their wives; Mobiles who ramble along, grinning vaguely, hand in hand, as though they were in their native villages; and loafers. There, and in the principal streets, speculators have taken advantage of the rights of man to stop up the side walks with tables on which their wares are displayed. On some of them there are kepis, on others ointment for corns, on others statuettes of the two inseparables of Berlin, William and his little Bismarck, on others General Trochu and the members of the Government in gilt gingerbread. The street-hawkers are enjoying a perfect carnival--the last editions of the papers--the Tuileries' papers--the caricatures of Badinguet--portraits of the heroic Uhrich, and infallible cures for the small-pox or for worms, are offered for sale by stentorian lungs. Citizens, too, equally bankrupt alike in voice and in purse, place four lighted candles on the pavement, and from the midst of this circle of light dismally croak the "Marseillaise" and other patriotic songs. As for beggars, their name is legion; but as every one who wants food can get it at the public cantines, their piteous whines are disregarded. Lodgings are to be hired in the best streets for about one-tenth part of what was asked for them two months ago, and even that need not be paid. Few shops are shut; but their proprietors sit, hoping against hope, for some customer to appear. The grocers, the butchers, and the bakers, and the military tailors, still make money; but they are denounced for doing so at the clubs as bad patriots. As for the hotels, almost all of them are closed. At the Grand Hotel, there are not twenty persons. Business of every kind is at a standstill. Those who have money, live on it; those who have not, live on the State: the former shrug their shoulders and say, "Provided it does not last;" the latter do not mind how long it lasts. All are comparatively happy in the thought that the eyes of Europe are on them, and that they have already thrown Leonidas and his Spartans into the shade.

The Government has placarded to-day a despatch from Tours. Two armies are already formed, we are told--one at Lyons, and the other at----. The situation of Bazaine is excellent. The provinces are ready. The departments are organising to the cry of "Guerre à outrance, ni un pouce de terrain, ni une pierre de nos forteresses!" I trust that the news is true; but I have an ineradicable distrust of all French official utterances. A partial attempt is being made to relieve the population. At the Mairies of the arrondissements, tickets are delivered to heads of families, giving them the right to a certain portion of meat per diem until January. The restaurants are still fairly supplied; so that the system of rationing is not yet carried out in its integrity.

I am not entirely without hopes that the trial through which France is passing will in the end benefit it. Although we still brag a good deal, there is within the last few days a slight diminution of bluster. Cooped up here, week after week, the population must in the end realise the fact that the world can move on without them, and that twenty years of despotism has enervated them and made other nations their equals, if not their superiors. As Sydney Smith said of Macaulay, they have occasional flashes of silence. They sit, now and then, silent and gloomy, and mourn for the "Pauvre France." "Nous sommes bien tombés." This is a good sign, but will it outlive a single gleam of success? Shall we not in that case have the Gallic cock crowing as lustily as ever? The French have many amiable and engaging qualities, and if adversity would only teach them wisdom, the country is rich enough to rise from the ruin which has overtaken it. M. Jules Simon has published a plan of education which he says in twenty years will produce a race of virile citizens; but this is a little long to wait for a social regeneration. At present they are schoolboys, accustomed to depend on their masters for everything, and the defence of Paris is little more than the "barring out" of a girls' school. They cannot, like Anglo-Saxons, organise themselves, and they have no man at their head of sufficient force of character to impose his will upon them. The existing Government has, it is true, to a certain extent produced administrative order, but they have not succeeded in inspiring confidence in themselves, or in raising the spirit of the Parisians to the level of the situation. The Ultras say justly, that this negative system cannot last, and that prompt action is as much a political as it is a military necessity.

The sixth livraison of the Tuileries papers has just appeared. Its contents are unimportant. There is a receipt from Miss Howard, the Emperor's former mistress, showing that between 1850 and 1855 she received above five million francs. This sum was not, however, a sufficient remuneration in her opinion, for her services, as in July, 1855, she writes for more, and says "the Emperor is too good to leave a woman whom he has tenderly loved in a false position." This and several other of her letters are addressed to the Emperor's Secretary, whose functions seem to have been of a peculiarly domestic character. Indeed, the person who fulfilled them would everywhere, except at a Court, have been called something less euphonious than "secretary." A report from M. Duvergier, ex-Secretary-General of the Police, is published respecting the _Cabinet Noir_. It is addressed to the then Minister of the Interior. It is lengthy, and very detailed. It appears that occasionally the Emperor's own letters were opened.

I went to the Hôtel de Ville this afternoon, to see whether anything was going on there. Several battalions passed by, but they did not demonstrate _en passant_. The place was full of groups of what in England would be called the "dangerous classes." They were patiently listening to various orators who were denouncing everything in general, and the Government in particular. The principal question seemed to be that of arms. Frenchmen are so accustomed to expect their Governments to do everything for them, that they cannot understand why, although there were but few Chassepots in the city, every citizen should not be given one. It is indeed necessary to live here and to mix with all classes to realise the fact that the Parisians have until now lived in an ideal world of their own creation. Their orators, their statesmen, and their journalists, have traded upon the traditions of the First Empire, and persuaded them that they are a superior race, and that their superiority is universally recognised. Utterly ignorant of foreign languages and of foreign countries, they believe that their literature is the only one in the world, and that a Frenchman abroad is adored as something little less than a divinity. They regard the Prussians round their city much as the citizens of Sparta would have regarded Helots, and they are so astonished at their reverses, that they are utterly unable to realise what is going on. As for trying to make them comprehend that Paris ought to enjoy no immunity from attack which Berlin or London might not equally claim, it is labour lost. "The neutrals," I heard a member of the late Assembly shouting in a café, "are traitors to civilisation in not coming to the aid of the Queen of Europe." They did their very best, they declare, to prevent Napoleon from making war. Yet one has only to talk with one of them for half an hour to find that he still hankers after the Rhine, and thinks that France wishes to be supreme in Europe.

_October 8th._

Yesterday I happened to be calling at the Embassy, when a young English gentleman made his appearance, and quietly asked whether he could take any letters to England. He is to start to-day in a balloon, and has paid 5,000f. for his place. I gave him a letter, and a copy of one which I had confided on Wednesday to an Irishman who is trying to get through the lines. I hear that to-morrow the Columbian Minister is going to the Prussian Headquarters, and a friend of mine assures me that he thinks if I give him a letter by one o'clock to-day this diplomatist will take it. The Corps Diplomatique are excessively indignant with the reply they have received from Count Bismarck, declining to allow any but open despatches through the Prussian lines. They have held an indignation meeting. M. Kern, the Swiss Minister, has drawn up a protest, which has been signed by himself and all his colleagues. The Columbian Minister is to be the bearer of it. It bombards Bismarck with copious extracts from Puffendorf and Grotius, and cites a case in point from the siege of Vienna in the 15th century. It will be remembered that Messenger Johnson, at the risk of his life and at a very great expense to the country, brought despatches to the Parisian Embassy on the second day of the siege. I recommend Mr. Rylands, or some other M.P. of independent character, to insist upon Parliament being informed what these important despatches were. The revelation will be a curious one.

Yesterday afternoon I made an excursion into the Bois de Boulogne under the convoy of a friend in power. We went out by the Porte de Neuilly. Anything like the scene of artificial desolation and ruin outside this gate it is impossible to imagine. The houses are blown up--in some places the bare walls are still standing, in others even these have been thrown down. The Bois itself, from being the most beautiful park in the world, has become a jungle of underwood. In the roads there are large barricades formed of the trees which used to line them, which have been cut down. Between the ramparts and the lake the wood is swept clean away, and the stumps of the trees have been sharpened to a point. About 8,000 soldiers are encamped in the open air on the race-course and in the Bois. Near Suresnes there is a redoubt which throws shell and shot into St. Cloud. We are under the impression that the firing from this redoubt, from Valérien, Issy, and the gunboat Farcy, which took place on Thursday morning, between 2 a.m. and 8 a.m., has destroyed the batteries and earthworks which the Prussians were erecting on the heights of St. Cloud and Meudon-Clamart. You, however, are better informed respecting the damage which was done than we are. When I was in the Bois the redoubt was not firing, and the sailors who man it were lounging about, exactly as though they had been on board ship. Occasionally Mont-Valérien fired a shot, but it was only a sort of visiting card to the Prussians, for with the best glasses we could see nothing of them. Indeed, the way they keep under cover is something wonderful. "I have been for three weeks in a fort," said the aide-de-camp of one of the commanders of a southern fort, "every day we have made reconnaissances, and I have not seen one single Prussian."

From what I learn, on good authority, the political situation is this. The Government consists mainly of Orleanists. When they assumed the direction of public affairs, they hoped to interest either Austria or Russia in the cause of France. They were, therefore, very careful to avoid as much as possible any Republican propagandism either at home or abroad. Little by little they have discovered that if France is to be saved it must be by herself. Some of them, however, still hanker after a Russian intervention, and do not wish to weaken M. Thiers' prospects of success at St. Petersburg. They have, however, been obliged to yield to the Republicanism of the Parisian "men of action," and they have gradually drifted into a Government charged not only with the defence of the country, but also with the establishment of a Republic. As is usual in all councils, the extreme party has gained the ascendancy. But the programme of the Ultras of the "ins" falls far short of that of the Ultras of the "outs." The latter are continually referring to '93, and as the Committee of Public Safety then saved France, they are unable to understand why the same organisation should not save it now. Their leaders demand a Commune, because they hope to be among its members. The masses support them, because they sincerely believe that in the election of a Commune Paris will find her safety. The Government is accused of a want of energy. "Are we to remain cooped up here until we are starved out?" ask the Ultras. "As a military man, I decline to make a sortie," replies General Trochu. "We are not in '93. War is waged in a more scientific manner," whispers Ernest Picard. The plan of the Government, if plan it has, appears to be to wear out the endurance of the besiegers by a defensive attitude, until either an army from the provinces cuts off their communications, or the public opinion of Europe forces them to raise the siege. The plan of the Ultras is to save Paris by Paris; to make continual sorties, and, every now and then, one in such force that it will be a battle. I am inclined to think that theoretically the Government plan is the best, but it ignores the material it has to do with, and it will find itself obliged either to adopt the policy of the Ultras, or to allow them to elect a "Commune," which would soon absorb all power. The position appears to me to be a false one, owing to the attempt to rule France from Paris through an occasional despatch by balloon. What ought to have been done was to remove the seat of Government to another town before the siege commenced, and to have left either Trochu or some other military man here to defend Paris, as Uhrich defended Strasburg. But the Government consisted of the deputies of Paris; and had they moved the seat of Government, they would have lost their _locus standi_. Everyone here sees the absurdity of Palikao's declaration, that Bazaine was commander-in-chief when he was invested in Metz, but no one seems to see the still greater absurdity of the supreme civil and military Government of the whole country remaining in Paris whilst it is invested by the German armies. Yesterday, for instance, a decree was issued allowing the town of Roubaix to borrow, I forget how much. Can anything be more absurd than for a provincial town to be forced to wait for such an authorisation until it receives it from Paris? It is true that there is a delegation at Tours, but, so long as it is nothing but a delegation, it will be hindered in its operations by the dread of doing anything which may conflict with the views of its superiors here. Paris at present is as great an incubus to France as the Emperor was. Yesterday M. Gambetta started in a balloon for Tours, and in the interests of France I shall be glad to see his colleagues one and all follow him. The day before a balloon had been prepared for him, but his nerves failed him at the last moment, and he deferred his departure for twenty-four hours.

M. Rochefort was "interviewed" yesterday by a deputation of women, who asked to be employed in the hospitals instead, of the men who are now there. He promised to take their request into consideration. I was down yesterday at the headquarters of the Ambulance Internationale, and I cannot say that I think that the accusations of the Ultra-press respecting the number of young Frenchmen there, is borne out by facts. There have been, however, a vast number of _petits crevés_ and others who have shirked military service by forming themselves into amateur ambulances. The "sergents de ville" have received orders to arrest anyone wearing the Red Cross who is unable to produce his certificate as an _infirmier_. This has thrown the _petits crevés_--the pets of priests and old ladies--those youths who are best described by the English expression, "nice young men for a small tea-party"--into consternation. I saw yesterday one of these emasculated specimens of humanity arrayed in a suit of velvet knickerbockers, with a red cross on his arm, borne off to prison, notwithstanding his whining protests.

Another abuse which has been put an end to is that of ladies going about begging for money for the "wounded." They are no longer allowed to do so unless they have an authorisation. I have a lively recollection of an old grandaunt of mine, who used to dun every one she met for a shilling for the benefit of the souls of the natives of Southern Africa, and as I know that the shillings never went beyond ministering to the wants of this aged relative, warned by precocious experience, I have not allowed myself to be caught by the "ladies."

A singular remonstrance has been received at the British Embassy. In the Rue de Chaillot resides a celebrated English courtezan, called Cora Pearl, and above her house floats the English flag. The inhabitants of the street request the "Ambassador of England, a country the purity and the decency of whose manners is well known," to cause this bit of bunting, which is a scandal in their eyes, to be hauled down. I left Mr. Wodehouse consulting the text writers upon international law, in order to discover a precedent for the case. Colonel Claremont is doing his best to look after the interests of his fellow-countrymen. I had a prejudice against this gentleman, because I was unable to believe that any one hailing from the Horse Guards could under any circumstances make himself a useful member of society. I find, however, that he is a man of energy and good common sense, with very little of the pipeclay about him.

From Monday next a new system of the distribution of meat is to come into force. Between 450 and 500 oxen and 3,500 sheep are to be daily slaughtered. This meat is to be divided into twenty lots, one for each arrondissement, the size of each lot to be determined by the number of the inhabitants of the particular arrondissement. The lot will then be divided between the butchers in the arrondissement, at twenty centimes per kilogramme below the retail price. Each arrondissement may, however, adopt a system of rations. I suspect most of the beef I have eaten of late is horse; anyhow, it does not taste like ordinary beef. To obtain a joint at home is almost impossible. In the first place, it is difficult to purchase it; in the second place, if, when bought, it is spotted by patriots going through the street, it is seized upon on the ground that any one who can obtain a joint for love or money must be an aristocrat who is getting more than his share. I met a lady early this morning, who used to be most fashionable. She was walking along with a parcel under her shawl, and six dogs were following her. She asked me to drive them away, but they declined to go. I could not understand their sudden affection for my fair friend, until she confided to me that she had two pounds of mutton in her parcel. A tariff for horse-flesh is published to-day; it costs--the choice parts, whichever they may be--1f 40c. the kilo.; the rest, 80c. the kilo.

_Figaro_ yesterday published a "correspondence from Orleans." The _Official Gazette_ of this morning publishes an official note from the Prefect of Police stating that this correspondence is "a lie, such as those which the _Figaro_ invents every day."

_Afternoon._

I have just returned from the Place de l'Hôtel de Ville. When I got there at about two o'clock six or seven thousand manifesters had already congregated there. They were all, as is the nature of Frenchmen in a crowd, shouting their political opinions into their neighbours' ears. Almost all of them were Nationaux from the Faubourgs, and although they were not armed, they wore a kepi, or some other distinctive military badge. As well as I could judge, nine out of ten were working men. Their object, as a sharp, wiry artizan bellowed into my ear, was to force the Government to consent to the election of a Commune, in order that the Chassepots may be more fairly distributed between the bourgeois and the ouvriers, and that Paris shall no longer render itself ridiculous by waiting within its walls until its provisions are exhausted and it is forced to capitulate. There appeared to be no disposition to pillage; rightly or wrongly, these men consider that the Government is wanting in energy, and that it is the representative of the bourgeoisie and not of the entire population. Every now and then, some one shouted out "Vive la Commune!" and all waved their caps and took up the cry. After these somewhat monotonous proceedings had continued about half an hour, several bourgeois battalions of National Guards came along the quay, and drew up in line, four deep, before the Hôtel de Ville. They were not molested except with words. The leading ranks of the manifesters endeavoured by their eloquence to convince them that they ought not to prevent citizens peacefully expressing their opinions; but the grocers stood stolidly to their arms, and vouchsafed no reply. At three o'clock General Trochu with his staff rode along inside the line, and then withdrew. General Tamisier then made a speech, which of course no one could hear. Shortly afterwards there was a cry of "Voilà Flourens--Voilà nos amis," and an ouvrier battalion with its band playing the Marseillaise marched by. They did not halt, notwithstanding the entreaties of the manifesters, for they were bound, their officers explained, on a sacred mission, to deposit a crown before the statue of Strasburg. When I left the Place the crowd was, I think, increasing, and as I drove along the Rue Rivoli I met several bourgeois battalions marching towards the Hôtel de Ville. I presume, therefore, that General Trochu had thought it expedient to send reinforcements. "We will come back again with arms," was the general cry among the ouvriers, and unless things mend for the better I imagine that they will keep their word. The line of demarcation between the bourgeois and the ouvrier battalions is clearly marked, and they differ as much in their opinions as in their appearance. The sleek, well-fed shopkeeper of the Rue Vivienne, although patriotic, dreads disorder, and does not absolutely contemplate with pleasure an encounter with the Prussians. The wild, impulsive working man from Belleville or La Villette dreads neither Prussians without, nor anarchy within. If he could only find a leader he would blow up himself and half Paris rather than submit to the humiliation of a capitulation. Anything he thinks is better than this "masterly inactivity." Above the din of the crowd the cannon could be heard sullenly firing from the forts; but even this warning of how near the foe is, seemed to convey no lesson to avoid civil strife. Unless General Trochu is a man of more energy than I take him to be, if ever the Prussians do get into the town they will find us in the condition of the Kilkenny cats.

_October 9th._

The representative of the Republic of Columbia, to whom I had given my letter of yesterday, has returned it to me, as he was afraid to cross the lines with it. The Briton who has paid for a place in a balloon is still here, and he imagines that he will start to-morrow, so I shall give him my Columbian letter and this one. I understand that any one who is ready to give assurances that he will praise everything and every one belonging to the Government, is afforded facilities for sending out letters by the Post-office balloons, but I am not prepared to give any other pledge except that I shall tell the truth without fear or favour.

The _Journal Officiel_ of this morning, and the Moderate papers, boast that the Ultra manifestation of yesterday was a complete failure. As usual, they cry before they are out of the wood. After I left the Place it appears that there was a counter manifestation of bourgeois National Guards, who arrived in military order with their arms. Jules Favre addressed them. Now as far as I can make out, these battalions went to the Hôtel de Ville on their own initiative. No one, however, seems to see any incongruity in the friends of the Government making an armed demonstration as a protest against armed and unarmed demonstrations in general. The question of the municipal elections will lie dormant for a few days, but I see no evidence that those who were in favour of it have altered their minds. As far as yesterday's proceedings were concerned, they only go to prove the fact, which no one ever doubted, that the bourgeoisie and their adherents are ready to support the Government, but they have also proved to my mind conclusively that the working men as a body have entirely lost all confidence in the men at the head of affairs.

On the pure merits of the question, I think that the working men have reason on their side. They know clearly what they want--to make sorties and to endeavour to destroy the enemy's works; if this fails--to make provisions last as long as possible by a system of rationing--and then to destroy Paris rather than surrender it. The Government and their adherents are waiters on Providence, and, except that they have some vague idea that the Army of the Loire will perform impossibilities, they are contented to live on from day to day, and to hope that something will happen to avert the inevitable catastrophe. I can understand a military dictatorship in a besieged capital, and I can understand a small elected council acting with revolutionary energy; but what I cannot understand is a military governor who fears to enforce military discipline, and a dozen respectable lawyers and orators, whose sole idea of Government is, as Blanqui truly says, to issue decrees and proclamations, and to make speeches. The only practical man among them is M. Dorian, the Minister of Public Works, M. Dorian is a hard-headed manufacturer, and utterly ignoring red tape, clerks, and routine; he has set all the private ateliers to work, to make cannon and muskets. I have not yet heard of his making a single speech, or issuing a single proclamation since the commencement of the siege, and he alone of his colleagues appears to me to be the right man in the right place. I do not take my views of the working men from the nonsense which is printed about them in official and semi-official organs. They are the only class here which, to use an Americanism, is not "played out." The Government dreads them as much as the Empire did; but although they are too much carried away by their enthusiasm and their impulsiveness, they are the only persons in Paris who appear to have a grain of common sense. "As for the Army of the Loire," said one of them to me this morning, "no one, except a fool or a Government employé, can believe that it will ever be able to raise the siege, and as for all these bourgeois, they consider that they are heroes because once or twice a week they pass the night at the ramparts; they think first of their shops, then of their country." "But how can you imagine that you and your friends would be able to defeat the Prussians, who are disciplined soldiers?" I asked. "We can at least try," he replied. I ventured to point out to my friend that perhaps a little discipline in the ouvrier battalions might not be a bad thing; but he insisted that the indiscipline was caused by their distrust of their rulers, and that they were ready to obey their officers. "Take," he said "Flourens' battalions. They do not, it is true, march as regularly as the bourgeois, and they have nothing but kepis and old muskets; but, as far as fighting goes, they are worth all the bourgeois put together." I do not say that Trochu is not wise to depend upon the bourgeois; all I say is, that as the Empire fell because it did not venture to arm any except the regular soldiers, so will Paris render itself the laughing stock of Europe, if its defence is to depend upon an apocryphal Army of the Loire, marines from the Navy, peasants from the provinces, and the National Guards of the wealthy quarters. To talk of the heroic attitude of Paris, when the Parisians have not been under fire, is simply absurd. As long as the outer forts hold out, it is no more dangerous to "man the ramparts" than to mount guard at the Tuileries. I saw to-day a company of mounted National Guards exercising. Their uniforms were exquisitely clean, but I asked myself of what earthly use they were. Their commander ordered them to charge, when every horse butted against the one next to him. I believe a heavy gale of wind would have disconnected all these warriors from their chargers. I fully recognise the fact that the leaders of the ouvriers talk a great deal of nonsense, and that they are actuated as much by personal ambition as by patriotism; but it is certain that the individual working man is the only reality in this population of corrupt and emasculated humbugs; everyone else is a windbag and a sham.

A decree has been issued, informing all who have no means of subsistence that they will receive a certain amount of bread per diem upon application at their respective mairies. We are also told that if we wish to make puddings of the blood of oxen, we must mix pigs' blood with it, otherwise it will be unwholesome.

It has been showery to-day, and I never have witnessed a more dismal Sunday in Paris. A pigeon from. Gambetta's balloon has returned, but this foolish bird lost _en route_ the message which was attached to its neck.