"Adieu--I know not if the courier will be permitted to depart; but, as I
believe the streets are not more unsafe than the houses, I shall make an
attempt to send this. I will write again in a few days. If to-morrow
should prove calm, I shall be engaged in enquiring after the fate of my
friends.--I beg my respects to Mons. And Mad. de ____; and entreat you
all to be as tranquil as such circumstances will permit.--You may be
certain of hearing any news that can give you pleasure immediately. I
have the honour to be," &c. &c.




Arras, September, 1792.

You will in future, I believe, find me but a dull correspondent. The
natural timidity of my disposition, added to the dread which a native of
England has of any violation of domestic security, renders me unfit for
the scenes I am engaged in. I am become stupid and melancholy, and my
letters will partake of the oppression of my mind.

At Paris, the massacres at the prisons are now over, but those in the
streets and in private houses still continue. Scarcely a post arrives
that does not inform M. de ____ of some friend or acquaintance being
sacrificed. Heaven knows where this is to end!

We had, for two days, notice that, pursuant to a decree of the Assembly,
commissioners were expected here at night, and that the tocsin would be
rung for every body to deliver up their arms. We did not dare go to bed
on either of these nights, but merely lay down in our robes de chambre,