Many of them have already ceased to exist, but counting old and new newspapers, there must at least be sixty published every day.

How they manage to find paper is to me a mystery.
Some of them are printed upon sheets intended for books, others upon sheets which are so thick that I imagine they were designed to wrap up sugar and other groceries.

Those which were the strongest in favour of the Empire, are now the strongest in favour of the Republic.

Editors and writers whose dream it was a few months ago to obtain an invitation at the Tuileries or to the Palais Royal, or to merit by the basest of flatteries the Legion of Honour, now have become perfect Catos, and denounce courts and courtiers, Bonapartists and Orleanists.

War they regard as the most wicked of crimes, and they appear entirely to have forgotten that they welcomed with shouts of ecstacy in July last the commencement of the triumphal march to Berlin.
_January 2nd._ Yesterday evening, notwithstanding the cold, there were groups on the Boulevards shouting "_a bas Trochu_." It is understood that henceforward no military operation is to take place before it has been discussed by a Council of War, consisting of generals and admirals.