isten to its answer. There has been time
to reconnoitre, to concert together; there would have been time to act!

Why is nothing done? Why has nothing been done yet? Generals Clement
Thomas and Lecomte have been assassinated; this is as incontestable as
it is odious. Does all Paris wish to partake with the criminals in the
responsibility of this crime? The regular Government has been expelled.
Does Paris consent to this expulsion? Men invested with no rights, or,
at least, with insufficient rights, have usurped the power. Does Paris
so far forget itself as to submit to this usurpation without resistance?

No, most assuredly no. Paris abominates crime, does not approve of the
expulsion of the Government, and does not acknowledge the right of the
members of the Central Committee to impose its wishes upon us. Why then
does Paris remain passive and patient? Does it not fear that it will be
said that silence implies consent? How is it that I myself, for example,
instead of writing my passing impressions on these pages, do not take my
musket to punish the criminals and resist this despotism? It is that we
all feel the present situation to be a, singularly complicated one. The
Government which has withdrawn to Versailles committed so many faults
that it would be difficult to side with it without reserve. The weakness
and inability the greater part of those who composed it showed during
the siege, their obstinacy in remaining deaf to the legitimate wishes of
the capital, have ill disposed us for depending on a state of things
which it would have been impossible to approve of entirely. In fine,
these unknown revolutionists, guilty most certainly, but perhaps
sincere, claim for Paris rights that almost the whole of Paris is
inclined to demand. It is impossible not to acknowledge that the
municipal franchise is wished for and becomes henceforth necessary.

It is for this reason that although aghast at the excesses in
perspective and those already committed by the dictators of the 18th
March, though revolted at the thought of all the blood spilled and yet
to be spilled--this is the reason that we side with no party. The past
misdeeds of the legitimate Government of Versailles damp our enthusiasm
for it, while some few laudable ideas put forth by the illegitimate
government of the Hotel de Ville diminish our horror of its crimes, and
our apprehensions at its misdoings.

Then--why not dare say it?--Paris, which is so impressionable