clothe themselves in sackcloth, and weep, if it were possible, in the anguish of their spirit, tears of blood. But what they are in the sight of God, is a thought, perhaps, that never occurs to them. With regard to the estimation in which surrounding nations hold them, however, they seem to have some concern. Yet, even here, their natural gaiety comes in to their relief. They know that they are an enslaved and conquered people, and they groan, in wardly, beneath the oppression of foreign armies, subsisting on their soil.-Yet still they talk and laugh themselves into a persuasion that they are independent-that they were never subdued that they freely recalled the present sovereign and his family to the throne-that they are contented and happy beneath his reign-and thus they dream and talk of freedom while they wear the fetters, and dance, like the maniac, in their chains. The wise and the prudent amongst them, it is true, think and speak differently." We know," say they, "that we are enslaved your armies keep the Bourbons on the throne-we were willing to resign the former leader, but not willing to take your choice of a successor. It is an insufferable degradation, that other nations should guide the destinies of France-and insulted and vanquished as we are prisoners in our own country-with foreign armies consuming our produce, and forbidding the expression of our feelings-is it to be imagined that we can endure all

this unmoved, and not, in the silence imposed upon us, meditate revenge?"

What I have written is not what I have supposed to be the feelings of the thoughtful and intelligent, but is the substance of a conversation with a man, whose rank and information give weight to his opinions. Your's, &c.

LETTER X.

Paris.

MY DEAR

I alluded, in my last, to the feeling that prevails amongst the thoughtful and enlightened, respecting the present state of France. To what I then said, I ought to add, that the general impression is in favour of the king. He is considered a mild and benignant prince-anxious for the welfare of his people. But alas! the people are restless and turbulent, and a monarch of less amiable qualities would suit them better. The exploits and enterprises of their former ruler have rendered them a martial people--their ears have been accustomed to the shouts of victory-their eyes to the pomp and splendour of military spectacles—and their vanity has been flattered by the spoils of conquered nations collected in their capital. Destitute, then, of that moral principle which exults when the wrongs of the injured are redressed-and those domestic habits and attachments which are favourable to the cultivation of the arts of peace, how can it be expected that they should sit down at once, contented in the tranquillity that has settled on the ruins of

their independence-that throws them back upon themselves to brood upon their national degradation-and gives them leisure to contemplate the proud and giddy eminence from which they have fallen. It must be expected, that after the cessation of such a tempest, a considerable agitation should long be felt, and it will be well, indeed, if the elements are not gathering strength for another storm. Perhaps, while the present monarch lives, no immediate danger need be apprehended. If he should adopt a liberal and enlightened policy-if he should unshackle himself from the fetters which a superstitious and a mercenary priesthood are striving, but too successfully, to rivet on him-if he should adopt efficient plans for the instruction of the rising generation in the principles of the bible, which are those of morality, loyalty, and peace—and if God, by whom kings rule and princes decree justice, should spare him for a few years, to foster and to cherish these wise and salutary measures, the danger will be greatly lessened. By the influence of such an education, pure and upright principles will be: instilled into the minds of the rising population-domestic virtues will be inculcated, and domestic habits formed-the national character will become more benevolent and mild-and the people, recovered from the wild and feverish dreams of anarchy and conquest, will learn how much more conducive to their real interests and genuine happiness, is the calm and steady process of affairs, beneath

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the auspices of a legitimate and paternal prince, than the impetuous torrent that hurried them along, in wild and giddy transport, in the guilty schemes and boundless projects of a proud usurper.

With respect to the other branches of the family, except, perhaps, the amiable, but superstitious, Duchess D'Angouleme, the public feeling is by no means as favourable. It is to be feared, therefore, that the death of the present monarch, should it happen before the public mind is more generally tranquillized and settled, would bring a dreadful day to France! I should not wish to be in Paris, at that period.There is certainly no great love for the English in the breasts of our French neighbours-nor can it be expected that there should be. They tolerate us, however, for our money-they feel the circulation of our cash throughout their capital, and they are contented, for a season, to bury their deep-rooted animosity in their coffers, while they return us secret curses for the wealth we squander. Here and there, they shew their spite in ridiculous caricatures, and theatrical exhibitions, with now and then, a haughty look and a disdainful sneer-like the snarling of the. mastiff at the hands that supply his food and rivet his chain! But, if ever the mastiff should get loose, woe to the objects of his long-sinothered and deeply-cherished hate. Much, indeed, of the cringing servility of the French manners is gone. The immense crowds of clerks and apprentices, and coarse and