ir sufferings under the persecution of a party, are disposed
to expect they will not be less tenacious of power, nor less arbitrary in
the exercise of it than any of the intervening factions. The present
government is composed of such discordant elements, that their very union
betrays that they are in fact actuated by no principle, except the
general one of retaining their authority. Lanjuinais, Louvet, Saladin,
Danou, &c. are now leagued with Tallien, Freron, Dubois de Crance, and
even Carnot.

At the head of this motley assemblage of Brissotins, Orleanists, and
Robespierrians, is Sieyes--who, with perhaps less honesty, though more
cunning, than either, despises and dupes them all. At a moment when the
Convention had fallen into increased contempt, and when the public
affairs could no longer be conducted by fabricators of reports and
framers of decrees, the talents of this sinister politician became
necessary; yet he enjoys neither the confidence of his colleagues nor
that of the people--the vanity and duplicity of his conduct disgust and
alarm the first, while his reputation of partizan of the Duke of Orleans
is a reason for suspicion in the latter. But if Sieyes has never been
able to conciliate esteem, nor attain popularity, he has at length
possessed himself of power, and will not easily be induced to relinquish
it.--Many are of opinion, that he is secretly machinating for the son of
his former patron; but whether he means to govern in the name of the Duke
of Orleans, or in that of the republic, it is certain, had the French any
liberty to lose, it never could have found a more subtle and dangerous
enemy.*

* The Abbe, in his _"notices sur la Vie de Sieyes,"_ declares that
his contempt and detestation of the colleagues "with whom his
unfortunate stars had connected him," were so great, that he
determined, from his first arrival at the Convention, to take no
part in public affairs. As these were his original sentiments of
the Assembly, perhaps he may hereafter explain by which of their
operations his esteem was so much reconciled, that he has
condescended to become their leader.

Paris may, without exaggeration, be described as in a state of famine.
The markets are scantily supplied, and bread, except the little
distributed by order of the government, not to be obtained: yet the
inhabitants, for the most part, are not turbulent--they have learned too
late, that revolut