Messieurs Odillon Barrot, Thiers, Lamoriciere,
and Duvergier de Haurannes are ministers. Our watchwords are,--Order,
Union, Reform!

(Signed) ODILLON BARROT.
THIERS.

This proclamation may be said to have been the beginning of the
end. The soldiers were disgusted; supporters of the monarchy lost
heart; the secret societies now felt that the game was in their
hands. By that time barricades without number, it was said, had
been thrown up in the streets. The suburbs of Paris were cut off
from the capital. During the previous night, arms had been everywhere
demanded from private houses; but in obtaining them the insurgents
endeavored to inspire no unnecessary terror. One lady in the English
quarter was found kneeling by the bedside of her dying child. When
a party of armed men entered the chamber they knelt down, joined
their prayers to hers for the soul that was departing, and then
quitted the room in silence, placing a guard and writing over the
door in chalk: "Respect this house, for death is here."

By nine o'clock on Wednesday morning the troops, disgusted by the
order which forbade them to defend themselves, reversed their arms
and fraternized with the people, the officers sheathing their swords.

A little later, Odillon Barrot, who supposed himself to be the
people's favorite, rode along the Boulevard to proclaim to the
rioters that he was now their minister, and that the cause of reform
was assured. He was met with cries of "Never mind him! We have no
time to hear him! Too late, too late! We know all he has to say!"
About the same time the Ecole Militaire was taken; but a guard
_en blouse_ was posted to protect the apartments of the ladies
of the governor. The fight before the Palais Royal occurred about
noon. The palace, which was the private property of Louis Philippe,
was sacked, and many valuable works of art were destroyed.

The royal family were sitting down to breakfast about midday when
a party of gentlemen, among them M. Emile de Girardin, made their
way into the Tuileries, imploring the king to abdicate at once
and spare further bloodshed. Without a word, Louis Philippe drew
pen and paper towards him and wrote his abdication. Embracing his
grandson, the little Comte de Paris, he went out, saying to the
gentlemen about him: "This child is your king."

Through the Pavillon de l'Horloge, the main entrance to the Tuileries,
came a party of dragoons, leading their horses down the marble
s