Commonly, out of three or four thousand citizens, only fifty or sixty attend; one of these, called a general assembly, which signifies the will of the people to the Convention, is composed of twenty-five voters.[3371] Accordingly, what would a sensible man, a friend of order, do in these dens of fanatics?
He stays at home, as on stormy days; he lets the shower of words spend itself, not caring to be spattered in the gutter of nonsense which carries off the filth of this district.
If he leaves his house at all he goes out for a walk, the same as in old times, to indulge the tastes he had under the old regime, those of a talkative, curious on-looker and friendly stroller, of a Parisian safe in his well run town.

"Yesterday evening," writes a man who feels the coming Reign of Terror, "I took my stand in the middle of the right alley of the Champs-Elysees;[3372] it was thronged with--who do you think?
Would you believe it, with moderates, aristocrats, owners of property, and very pretty women, elegantly dressed, seeking the caresses of the balmy spring breeze! It was a charming sight.

All were gay and smiling.

I was the only one that was not so...

I withdrew hastily, and, on passing through the Tuileries garden, I saw a repetition of what I had seen before, forty thousand wealthy people scattered here and there, almost as many as Paris contains."-- These are evidently the sheep ready for the slaughter-house.