The members of the Government, who had been incarcerated during several hours, now wished to show their authority; they felt that their power had been shaken, and saw the necessity of strengthening it. What can a Government do in such a case? Call for a plébiscite. But this time Paris alone was consulted, and for a good reason. Thus, on the 1st November, the people, of Paris were enjoined to express their wishes by answering yes or no to this simple question:— “Do the people of Paris recognise the authority of the Government for the National Defence?” This was clear, positive, and free from all ambiguity. The partizans of the Commune declared vehemently that those who voted in the affirmative were reactionists. “Give us the Commune of ’93!“ shouted those who thought they knew a little more about the matter than the rest. They were generally rather badly received. It is no use speaking of ’93! Replace your Blanquis, your Félix Pyats, your Flourens by men like those of the grand revolution, and then we shall be glad to hear what you have to say on the subject. The inhabitants of Montmartre, La-Chapelle, Belleville, behaved like good citizens, keeping a brave heart in the hour of misfortune. However it came about, the Government was maintained by a majority of 557,995 votes against 62,638. Well, Messieurs of the Commune, try again, or, still better, remain quiet. During the night of the 21st of January the members of the National Defence and the chief officers of the army were assembled around the table in the council-room. They were still under the mournful impression left by the fatal day of the nineteenth, on which hundreds of citizens had fallen at Montretout, at Garches, and at Buzenval. Thanks to the want of foresight of the Government, the people of Paris were rationed to 300 grammes of detestable black bread a day for each person. All representations made to them had been in vain. Ration our bread by degrees, had been said, we should thus accustom ourselves to privation, and be prepared insensibly, for greater sufferings, while the duration of our provisions would be lengthened. But the answer always was: “Bread? We shall have enough, and to spare.” When the great crisis was seen approaching, the public feeling showed itself by violent agitation. It was not surprising, therefore, that all the faces of these gentlemen at the council-table bore marks of great depression. The Governor of Paris offered his resignation, as he was in the habit of doing after every rather stormy sitting; but his colleagues refused to accept it, as they had before. What was to be done? Had not the Governor of Paris sworn never to capitulate? After a night spent in discussing the question, the members of Government decided on the following plan of action. You will see that it was as simple as it was innocent! The following announcement was placarded on all the walls:—