mous course they were pursuing.

France, eager to destroy the last hope of Italian
emancipation,--France, the alguazil of Austria, the soldiers of
republican France, firing upon republican Rome! If there be angel
as well as demon powers that interfere in the affairs of men, those
bullets could scarcely fail to be turned back against their own
breasts. Yet Roman blood has flowed also; I saw how it stained
the walls of the Vatican Gardens on the 30th of April--the first
anniversary of the appearance of Pius IX.'s too famous encyclic
letter. Shall he, shall any Pope, ever again walk peacefully in these
gardens? It seems impossible! The temporal sovereignty of the Popes
is virtually destroyed by their shameless, merciless measures taken
to restore it. The spiritual dominion ultimately falls, too, into
irrevocable ruin. What may be the issue at this moment, we cannot
guess. The French have retired to Civita Vecchia, but whether to
reembark or to await reinforcements, we know not. The Neapolitan force
has halted within a few miles of the walls; it is not large, and they
are undoubtedly surprised at the discomfiture of the French. Perhaps
they wait for the Austrians, but we do not yet hear that these have
entered the Romagna. Meanwhile, Rome is strongly barricaded, and,
though she cannot stand always against a world in arms, she means at
least to do so as long as possible. Mazzini is at her head; she has
now a guide "who understands his faith," and all there is of a noble
spirit will show itself. We all feel very sad, because the idea of
bombs, barbarously thrown in, and street-fights in Rome, is peculiarly
dreadful. Apart from all the blood and anguish inevitable at such
times, the glories of Art may perish, and mankind be forever despoiled
of the most beautiful inheritance. Yet I would defend Rome to the last
moment. She must not be false to the higher hope that has dawned upon
her. She must not fall back again into servility and corruption.

And no one is willing. The interference of the French has roused the
weakest to resistance. "From the Austrians, from the Neapolitans,"
they cried, "we expected this; but from the French--it is too
infamous; it cannot be borne;" and they all ran to arms and fought
nobly.

The Americans here are not in a pleasant situation. Mr. Cass, the
Charge of the United States, stays here without recognizing the
government. Of course, he holds no position at the present moment
that can enable hi