again caught and put in their cages."[66] "Guadet， Pétion， Brissot， would not find thirty persons in Paris who would take their part， or even take the first step to save them."[67]
Apart from all this， it makes little difference whether the majority has any preferences； its sympathies， if it has any， will never be other than platonic. It no longer counts for anything in either camp， it has withdrawn from the battle-field， it is now simply the stakes of the conflict， the prey and the booty of the winner. For， unable or unwilling to comply with the political system imposed on it， it is self-condemned to utter powerlessness. This system is the direct government of the people by the people， with all that ensues， permanence of the section assemblies， club debates in public， uproar in the galleries， motions in the open air， mobs and manifestations in the streets； nothing is less attractive and more impracticable to civilized and busy people. In our modern communities， work， the family， and social intercourse absorb nearly all our time； hence， such a system suits only the idle and rough outcasts who feel at home there； the others refuse to enter an environment expressly set up for singles， orphans， unskilled persons， living in lodgings， foul-mouthed， lacking the sense of smell， with a gift of the gab， robust arms， tough hide， solid haunches， expert in hustling， and with whom blows replace arguments.[68] -- After the September massacres， and on the opening of the barriers， a number of proprietors and persons living on their incomes， not alone the suspected but those who thought they might become so， escaped from Paris， and， during the following months， the emigration increases along with the danger. Towards December rumor has it that lists have been made up of former Feuillants； "we are assured that during the past eight days more than fourteen thousand persons have left the capital."[69] According to the report of the Minister himself；[70] "many who are independent in fortune and position abandon a city where the renewal of proscription is talked of daily." -- "Grass grows in the finest streets，" writes a deputy， "while the silence of the grave reigns in the Théba？des (isolated villas) of the faubourg Saint-Germain." -- As to the conservatives who remain， they confine themselves to private life， from which it follows that， in the political balance， those present are of no more account than the absentees. At the municipal elections in October， November， and December， out of 160，000 registered voters， there are at first 144，000， then 150，000， and finally 153，000 who stay away from the polls； these， certainly， and for a much better reason， do not show themselves at the assemblies of their sections. Commonly， out of three or four thousand citizens， only fifty or sixty attend； one of these， called a general assembly， which signifies the will of the people to the Convention， is composed of twenty-five voters.[71] Accordingly， what would a sensible man， a friend of order， do in these dens of fanatics？ He stays at home， as on stormy days； he lets the shower of words spend itself， not caring to be spattered in the gutter of nonsense which carries off the filth of this district.
If he leaves his house at all he goes out for a walk， the same as in old times， to indulge the tastes he had under the old régime， those of a talkative， curious on-looker and friendly stroller， of a Parisian safe in his well run town. "Yesterday evening，" writes a man who feels the coming Reign of Terror， "I took my stand in the middle of the right alley of the Champs-Elysées；[72] it was thronged with -- who do you think？ Would you believe it， with moderates， aristocrats， owners of property， and very pretty women， elegantly dressed， seeking the caresses of the balmy spring breeze！ It was a charming sight. All were gay and smiling. I was the only one that was not so. . . Iwithdrew hastily， and， on passing through the Tuileries garden， I saw a repetition of what I had seen before， forty thousand wealthy people scattered here and there， almost as many as Paris contains." -- These are evidently the sheep ready for the slaughter-house. They no longer think of defense， they have abandoned their posts to the sans-culottes， "they refuse all civil and military functions，"[73] they avoid doing duty in the National Guard and instead pay their substitutes. In short， they withdraw from a game which， in 1789， they desired to play without understanding it， and in which， since the end of 1791， they have always burnt their fingers. The cards may be handed over to others， especially as the cards are dirty and the players fling them in each others' faces； as for themselves they are spectators， they have no other ambitions. -- "Leave them their old enjoyments，[74] leave them the pleasure of going and coming throughout the kingdom； but do not force them to take part in the war. Subject them to the heaviest taxation and they will not complain； nobody will even know that they exist， while the most serious question that disturbs them in their thoughtful days is， can one amuse one's self as much under a republican form of government as under the ancient régime？" They hope， perhaps， to escape under cover of inoffensive neutrality. Is it likely that the victor， whoever he is， will regard people as enemies who are resigned to his rule before-hand？ "Adandy[75] alongside of me remarked， yesterday morning， 'They will not take my arms away， for I never had any.' Alas，' I replied to him， 'don't make a boast of it， for you may find forty thousand simpletons in Paris that would say the same thing， and， indeed， it is not at all to the credit of Paris.'" -- Such is the blindness or self-complacency of the city dweller who， having always lived under a good police， is unwilling to change his habits， and is not aware that the time has come for him to turn fighting man in his turn.