I do not think, as far as regards the Parisians, Count Bismarck is right in his opinion that the French will for many years to come attempt to reverse the verdict of the present war. The Parisian bourgeois is fond of saving money. As long as war meant a military promenade of the army across the Rhine, followed by a triumphal entry into Paris, he was by no means averse to it, for he considered that a French victory reflected itself on him, and made him a hero in the eyes of the world. Now, however, that he has discovered that there is a reverse to this picture, and that it may very possibly mean ruin to himself, he will be very cautious before he again risks the hazard of the die. Should the disasters of France result in the emancipation of the provinces from the rule of Paris, they will be a positive benefit to the nation. If the thirty-eight million Frenchmen outside Paris are such fools as to allow themselves to be ruled by the two million amiable, ignorant, bragging humbugs who are within it, France will most deservedly cease to be a power of Europe. If this country is to recover from the ruin in which it is overwhelmed it is absolutely essential that Paris should cease to be its political capital, and that the Parisians should not have a greater share in moulding its future policy than they are numerically entitled to. CHAPTER XIV. _December 18th._ Prisoners have before now endeavoured to while away their long hours of captivity by watching spiders making their webs. I can understand this. In the dreary monotony of this dreariest of sieges a spider would be an event. But alas, the spider is outside, and we are the flies caught in his toils. Never did time hang so heavily on human beings as it hangs on us. Every day seems to have twice the usual number of hours. I have ceased to wind up my watch for many a week. I got tired of looking at it; and whether it is ten in the morning or two in the afternoon is much the same to me; almost everyone has ceased to shave; they say that a razor so near their throats would be too great a temptation. Some have married to avoid active service, others to pass the time. "When I knew that there was an army between my wife and myself," observed a cynic to me yesterday, "I rejoiced, but even the society of my wife would be better than this." There is a hideous old woman, like unto one of Macbeth's witches, who makes my bed. I had a horrible feeling that some day or other I should marry her, and I have been considerably relieved by discovering that she has a husband and several olive branches. Here is my day. In the morning the boots comes to call me. He announces the number of deaths which have taken place in the hotel during the night. If there are many he is pleased, as he considers it creditable to the establishment. He then relieves his feelings by shaking his fist in the direction of Versailles, and exit growling "Canaille de Bismarck." I get up.