tions of the Jacobins, nor the hopes of the people,
have been able to oppose the progress of a sentiment which, operating on
a character like that of the French, is more fatal to a popular body than
even hatred or contempt. The long duration of this disastrous
legislature has excited an universal weariness; the guilt of particular
members is now less discussed than the insignificance of the whole
assemblage; and the epithets corrupt, worn out, hackneyed, and
everlasting, [Tare, use, banal, and eternel.] have almost superseded
those of rogues and villains.
The law of the maximum has been repealed some time, and we now procure
necessaries with much greater facility; but the assignats, no longer
supported by violence, are rapidly diminishing in credit--so that every
thing is dear in proportion. We, who are more than indemnified by the
rise of exchange in our favour, are not affected by these progressive
augmentations in the price of provisions. It would, however, be
erroneous and unfeeling to judge of the situation of the French
themselves from such a calculation.
People who have let their estates on leases, or have annuities on the
Hotel de Ville, &c. receive assignats at par, and the wages of the
labouring poor are still comparatively low. What was five years ago a
handsome fortune, now barely supplies a decent maintenance; and smaller
incomes, which were competencies at that period, are now almost
insufficient for existence. A workman, who formerly earned twenty-five
sols a day, has at present three livres; and you give a sempstress thirty
sols, instead of ten: yet meat, which was only five or six sols when
wages was twenty-five, is now from fifty sols to three livres the pound,
and every other article in the same or a higher proportion. Thus, a
man's daily wages, instead of purchasing four or five pounds of meat, as
they would have done before the revolution, now only purchase one.
It grieves me to see people whom I have known at their ease, obliged to
relinquish, in the decline of life, comforts to which they were
accustomed at a time when youth rendered indulgence less necessary; yet
every day points to the necessity of additional oeconomy, and some little
convenience or enjoyment is retrenched--and to those who are not above
acknowledging how much we are the creatures of habit, a dish of coffee,
or a glass of liqueur, &c. will not seem such trifling privations. It is
true, these are, strictly speaking, l
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