Opinion in Paris. -- The majority of the population constitutional. --The new régime unpopular. -- Scarcity and high cost of food. -Catholic customs obstructed. -Universal and increasing discontent. --Aversion or indifference to the Girondins. -- Political resignation of the majority. -- Modern customs incompatible with pure democracy. --Men of property and income， manufacturers and tradesmen， keep aloof. -- Dissension， timidity， and feebleness of the Conservatives. -- The Jacobins alone form the sovereign people.
And it is of no account because， first of all， in this great city of Paris the Girondists are isolated， and have no group of zealous partisans to depend upon. For， if the large majority is opposed to their adversaries， that is not in their favor， it having secretly， at heart， remained "Constitutionalists."[53] "I would make myself master of Paris，" says a professional observer， "in ten days without striking a blow if I had but six thousand men， and one of Lafayette's stable-boys to command them." Lafayette， indeed， since the departure or concealment of the royalists， represents the old， fixed， and innermost opinion of the capital. Paris submits to the Girondists as well as to the Montagnards as usurpers； the mass of the public regards them with ill-will， and not only the bourgeoisie， but likewise the majority of the people loathe the established government.
Work is scarce and food is dear； brandy has tripled in price； only four hundred oxen are brought in at the Poissy market instead of seven or eight thousand； the butchers declare that there will be no meat in Paris next week except for the sick.[54] To obtain a small ration of bread it is necessary to wait five or six hours in a line at the baker's shops， and，[55] as is customary， workmen and housekeepers impute all this to the government. This government， which so poorly provides for its needs， offends them yet more in their deepest feelings， in the habits most dear to them， in their faith and worship.
The common people， even at Paris， is still at this time very religious， much more so than at the present day. When the priest bearing the Host passes along the street， the crowd "gathers from all sides， men， women， and children， young and old， and fall on their knees in worship."[56] The day on which the relics of saint Leu are borne in procession through the Rue St. Martin， "everybody kneels； Idid not see a man，" says a careful observer， "that did not take off his hat. At the guard-house of the Mauconseil section， the entire company presented arms." At the same time the "citoyennes around the markets talked with each other to know if there was any way of decking houses with tapestry."[57] The following week they compel the revolutionary committee of Saint-Eustache[58] to authorize another procession， and again each one kneels： "everybody approved of the ceremony， no one， that I heard of； making any objection. This is a striking picture. . . . I saw repentance， I saw the parallel each is forced to draw between the actual state of things and the former one.
I saw what a privation the people had to endure in the loss of that which， formerly， was the most imposing of all church ceremonies.
People of all ranks and ages were deeply affected and humble， and many had tears in their eyes." Now， in this respect， the Girondists， by virtue of being philosophers， are more iconoclastic， more intolerant than any one， and there is no reason for preferring them to their adversaries. At bottom， the government installed by the recent electoral comedy， for the major portion of the Parisians， has no authority but the fact of its existence； people put up with it because there is no other， fully recognizing its worthlessness；[59] it is a government of strangers， of interlopers， of bunglers， of cantankerous， weak and violent persons. The Convention has no hold either on the people or on the bourgeois class， and in proportion as it glides more rapidly down the revolutionary hill， it breaks one by one the ties with which it is still connected to the undecided.
In a reign of eight months the Convention has alienated public opinion entirely. "Almost all who have property of any kind are conservative，"[60] and all the conservatives are against it. "The gendarmes here openly speak up against the Revolution， even up to the revolutionary tribunal， whose judgments they loudly condemn. All the old soldiers detest the actual order of things."[61] -- The volunteers "who come back from the army appear angry at putting the King to death， and on that account they would flay all the Jacobins."[62] --No party in the Convention escapes this universal disaffection and growing aversion. "If the question of guillotining the members of the Convention could be put to an open vote， it would be carried against them by a majority of nineteen-twentieths，"[63] which， in fact， is about the proportion of electors who， through fright or disgust， keep away from the polls. Let the "Right" or the "Left" of the Convention be victors or vanquished， that is a matter which concerns them； the public at large does not enter into the discussions of its conquerors， and no longer cares for either Gironde or "Mountain." Its old grievances always revive "against the Vergniauds， Guadets" and company；[64] it does not like them， and has no confidence in them， and will let them be crushed without helping them. The infuriates may expel the Thirty-Two， if they choose， and put them under lock and key.
"There is nothing the aristocracy (meaning by this， owners of property， merchants， bankers， the rich， and the well-to-do)， desire so much as to see them guillotined."[65] 'Even the inferior aristocracy (meaning petty tradesmen and head-workmen) take no more interest in their fate than if they were so many escaped wild beasts . . .
