s former
instruments rose against him and forced him to escape to one of your
islands--I believe Dominico. Of this island, in return for his
hospitable reception, he took plans, according to which our General
Lagrange endeavoured to conquer it last spring. Lacrosse is a perfect
revolutionary fanatic, unprincipled, cruel, unfeeling, and intolerant.
His presumption is great, but his talents are trifling.

LETTER XXXIV.

PARIS, October, 1805.

MY LORD:--The defeat of the Austrians has excited great satisfaction
among our courtiers and public functionaries; but the mass of the
inhabitants here are too miserable to feel for anything else but their
own sufferings. They know very well that every victory rivets their
fetters, that no disasters can make them more heavy, and no triumph
lighter. Totally indifferent about external occurrences, as well as
about internal oppressions, they strive to forget both the past and the
present, and to be indifferent as to the future; they would be glad could
they cease to feel that they exist. The police officers were now, with
their gendarmes, bayoneting them into illuminations for Bonaparte's
successes, as they dragooned them last year into rejoicings for his
coronation. I never observed before so much apathy; and in more than one
place I heard the people say, "Oh! how much better we should be with
fewer victories and more tranquillity, with less splendour and more
security, with an honest peace instead of a brilliant war." But in a
country groaning under a military government, the opinions of the people
are counted for nothing.

At Madame Joseph Bonaparte's circle, however, the countenances were not
so gloomy. There a real or affected joy seemed to enliven the usual
dullness of these parties; some actors were repeating patriotic verses in
honour of the victor; while others were singing airs or vaudevilles, to
inspire our warriors with as much hatred towards your nation as gratitude
towards our Emperor. It is certainly neither philosophical nor
philanthropical not to exclude the vilest of all passions, HATRED, on
such a happy occasion. Martin, in the dress of a conscript, sang six
long couplets against the tyrants of the seas; of which I was only able
to retain the following one:

Je deteste le peuple anglais, Je deteste son ministere; J'aime l'Empereur
des Francais, J'aime la paix, je hais la guerre; Mais puisqu'il faut la
soutenir Contre une Nation Sauvage, Mon plus doux, mon