December 3rd, 1793
I am so glad that I have not yet taken thought nor any consideration into returning to the bloodshed streets and atrocity that is Paris. Lately it has seemed next to impossible to walk publicly without loosing your head the the so called rationalists that roam tempered streets. I would’ve expected the worst of which that can happened to already have become history over a year ago when pure but tame riots that crowd Paris lanes yet blood on cobblestones today prove me wrong.
Jacobins are the cause of this uncivil, preposterous exercise against thoughtful and impartial progress. Progress that was made with labouring words spoken by wise men. Progress made by arduous efforts to keep peace and social integrity. As always however, one must consider the notion that such an impulsive movement cannot be formulated from a party of men, but is most likely spawned from one man. In our case it is the man of infamous stature, Monsieur Robespierre. He is an intelligent man and a sophisticated thinker without argument. Though his ideas with the execution of opposition is far from sane and none useful to gain favour. What he has done and suspected will do to the crown and governing system will send France into turmoil and, send us back centuries in development and power.
Though for myself, I regretfully say that it will have no influence, for now I am out of reach of even the most relentless of Jacobins. Across the ocean strait and on the island of my enemies I will stay until I am assured that the state of France is in good order, or until the end of my days, the latter I assumer will come sooner. I should believe that Britain is not a bad place, though I must polish up my English a bit.