Providence, Aug. 11, 1794.
I have for ſome days contemplated the fall of Robeſpierre and hiſ adherents, only as one of thoſe diſpenſations of Providence, which were gradually to purſue all who had engaged in the French revolution. The late change of parties has, however, taken a turn I did not expect; and, contrary to what has hitherto occurred, there is a manifeſt diſpoſition in the people to avail themſelves of the weakneſs which is neceſſarily occaſioned by the contentions of their governors.
When the news of this extraordinary event firſt became public, it waſ ever where received with great gravity—I might ſay, coldneſs.—Not a comment was uttered, nor a glance of approbation ſeen. Things might be yet in equilibrium, and popular commotions are always uncertain. Prudence was, therefore, deemed, indiſpenſable; and, until the conteſt was finally decided, no one ventured to give an opinion; and many, to be certain of guarding againſt verbal indiſcretion, abſtained from all intercourſe whatever.
By degrees, the execution of Robeſpierre and above an hundred of hiſ partizans, convinced even the moſt timid; the murmurs of ſuppreſſed diſcontent began to be heard; and all thought they might now with ſafety relieve their fears and their ſufferings, by execrating the memory of the departed tyrants. The priſons, which had hitherto been avoided aſ endangering all who approached them, were ſoon viſited with leſſ apprehenſion; and friendſhip or affection, no longer exanimate by terror, ſolicited, though ſtill with trepidation, the releaſe of thoſe for whom they were intereſted. Some of our aſſociates have already left us in conſequence of ſuch interceſſions, and we all hope that the tide of opinion, now avowedly inimical to the deteſtable ſyſtem to which we are victims, will enforce a general liberation.—We are guarded but ſlightly; and I think I perceive in the behaviour of the Jacobin Commiſſarieſ ſomething of civility and reſpect not uſual.
Thus an event, which I beheld merely as the juſtice which one ſet of banditti were made the inſtruments of exerciſing upon another, may finally tend to introduce a more humane ſyſtem of government; or, at leaſt, ſuſpend proſcription and maſſacre, and give this haraſſed country a little repoſe.
I am in arrears with my epiſtolary chronicle, and the hope of ſo deſirable a change will now give me courage to reſume it from the concluſion of my laſt. To-morrow ſhall be dedicated to this purpoſe.— Yours.