We are now in a position, according to our military authorities, to hold out as long as our provisions last. If Paris does this, without being so heroic as her citizens imagine that she already is, she will have done her duty by France. Nicholas said, when Sebastopol was besieged, that winter was his best ally; and winter will soon come to our aid. The Prussians are a long way from their homes; if the provinces rise it will be difficult for them to keep their lines of communication open, and to feed their troops. It may also be presumed that they will be harassed by the 300,000 armed men who are cooped up here, and who are acting on the inner circle. Cannon are being cast which, it is expected, will render the sorties far more effective. On the other hand, the question has not yet been solved whether the Parisians will really support the hardships of a siege when they commence, and whether there will not be internal dissensions. At present the greatest confidence is felt in ultimate success. The Parisians cannot realise to themselves the possibility of their city being taken; they are still, in their own estimation, the representative men of "la grande nation," and they still cite the saying of Frederick the Great that, were he King of France, not a sword should be drawn without his permission, as though this were a dictum that a sage had uttered yesterday. They feed every day on the vaunts and falsehoods which their newspapers offer them, and they digest them without a qualm. While they expect the provinces to come to their aid, they are almost angry that they should venture to act independently of their guidance. They are childishly anxious to send out commissaries to take the direction of affairs in Normandy and Touraine, for the provincials are in their eyes slaves, born to serve and to obey the capital. Indeed, they have not yet got over their surprise that the world should continue to move now that it is deprived of its pivot. All this folly may not prevent their fighting well. Fools and braggarts are often brave men. The Parisians have an indomitable pride, they have called upon the world to witness their achievements, and the thought of King William riding in triumph along the Boulevards is so bitter a one, that it may nerve them to the wildest desperation. If, however, Bazaine capitulates, and the armies of the Loire and of Lyons are only the figments of their own brains, it may be that they will bow to what they will call destiny. "Heaven has declared against us," is an expression that I already hear frequently uttered. It is indeed as impossible to predicate here, as it is in London, what may be the mood of this fickle and impulsive population a week hence. All I can positively say is, that at the present moment they are in "King Cambyses' vein." We ought not to judge a foreign nation by our own standard, but it is impossible not to re-echo Lord Bolingbroke's "poor humanity" a hundred times a day, when