onte Mario.
When the Romans were anxious at seeing French troops move in that
direction, Lesseps said it was only done to occupy them, and conjured
the Romans to avoid all collision which might prevent his success
with the treaty. The sham treaty was concluded on the 30th of May, a
detachment of French having occupied Monte Mario on the night of the
29th. Oudinot flies into a rage and refuses to sign; M. Lesseps goes
off to Paris; meanwhile, the brave Oudinot attacks on the 3d of June,
after writing to the French Consul that Ire should not till the 4th,
to leave time for the foreigners remaining to retire. He attacked in
the night, possessing himself of Villa Pamfili, as he had of Monte
Mario, by treachery and surprise.

Meanwhile, M. Lesseps arrives in Paris, to find himself seemingly or
really in great disgrace with the would-be Emperor and his cabinet. To
give reason for this, M. Drouyn de Lhuys, who had publicly declared
to the Assembly that M. Lesseps had no instructions except from the
report of the sitting of the 7th of May, shamefully publishes a
letter of special instructions, hemming him in on every side, which M.
Lesseps, the "Plenipotentiary," dares not disown.

What are we to think of a great nation, whose leading men are such
barefaced liars? M. Guizot finds his creed faithfully followed up.

The liberal party in France does what it can to wash its hands of this
offence, but it seems weak, and unlikely to render effectual service
at this crisis. Venice, Rome, Ancona, are the last strong-holds of
hope, and they cannot stand for ever thus unsustained. Night before
last, a tremendous cannonade left no moment to sleep, even had the
anxious hearts of mothers and wives been able to crave it. At morning
a little detachment of French had entered by the breach of St.
Pancrazio, and intrenched itself in a vineyard. Another has possession
of Villa Poniatowski, close to the Porta del Popolo, and attacks
and alarms are hourly to be expected. I long to see the final one,
dreadful as that hour may be, since now there seems no hope from
delay. Men are daily slain, and this state of suspense is agonizing.

In the evening 'tis pretty, though terrible, to see the bombs, fiery
meteors, springing from the horizon line upon their bright path, to do
their wicked message. 'T would not be so bad, methinks, to die by one
of these, as wait to have every drop of pure blood, every childlike
radiant hope, drained and driven from th