two others, I have not heard a single speaker able to talk
connectedly for five minutes. Wild invectives against the Prussians,
denunciations against Europe, abuse of every one who differs from the
orator, and the very tallest of talk about France--what she has done,
what she is doing, and what she will do--form the staple of almost all
the speeches.

_Evening._

I went down to Belleville this afternoon. Everything was quiet. The
people, as usual, in the streets doing nothing. If you can imagine the
whole of Southwark paid and fed by the Government, excused from paying
rent, arrayed in kepis and some sort of uniform, given guns, and passing
almost all the time gossiping, smoking, and idling, you will be able to
form a correct notion of the aspect of Belleville and the other outer
faubourgs. The only demonstration I have heard of has been one composed
of women, who marched down the Rue du Temple behind a red flag, shouting
"Vive la Commune." As far as is yet known, about one-seventh of the
population have voted "No." The army and the Mobiles have almost all
voted "Yes." A friend of mine, who was out driving near Bobigny, says he
was surrounded by a Mobile regiment, who were anxious to know what was
passing in Paris. He asked them how they had voted. "For peace," they
replied. "If the National Guards wish to continue the war, they must
come out here and fight themselves." Many battalions have issued
addresses to the Parisians saying that they will not fight for a
Commune, and that the provinces must have a vote in all decisions as to
the future destinies of France. General Vinoy also has issued an order
to the 13th Corps d'Armee, declaring that if the peace of Paris is
disturbed he will march at its head to put down disorders.

_November 5th._

That Paris is prudent to seize upon the first loophole to get out of the
position into which she has inconsiderately thrust herself is most
certain. Never for a moment did I believe that the Parisians,
indifferent to all but honour, would perish to the last man rather than
give up one inch of territory, one stone of a fortress. Heroic constancy
and endurance under misfortune are not improvised. A population,
enervated by twenty years of slavery, corruption, and luxury, is not
likely to immolate itself for country, like the Spartans at Thermopylae.
People who mean to die do not sign a preliminary round-robin to do so.
Real fighting soldiers do not parade the streets behind