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yrlIE INDIAN ADVOCATE.
1! days at homo. For some time the solu tion of this affair has seemed to be approaching. The Garibaldians wish to come out, but evidently are in no hurry. Were they to come immediately, all would bo at an end; and each one could return home. These gentlemen undoubtedly fear us." The Garibaldians feared, indeed, those defenders of the Popacy, and, to overthrow them, resorted to shameful means. The history of that epoch is filled with their attempts to assassinate isolated soldiers. And to these attempts they added infernal machinations; as, the blowing up of the Soristery-barracks, which buried beneath their ruins almost the whole of the Zouave band. "Death to such cowards!" cried out Julius, "they murder you on the street corners, as they would vile beasts." This war of ambuscades, surprises, and treachery , so repugnant to French valor, rendered our young volunteers indignant. "A buttle in the bright sun-light would be a feast;" wrote Theodore Wibanse, "wore they ten to our one, wo would gladly encounter thorn; but within the walls of a large city, under cover of the darkness, one's heart, notwithstanding its bravery, fools shaken." Upon hearing of the arrival of new volunteers, in a letter to his parents, Julius said, "Tell them that if they wish to enjoy the wifddinij-fcast, they must hasten. Preparations have been going on for some time, and the feast will be magnificent. Till wo meet again, a thousand apologies, dear par ents, for the pain I have caused you." And, as if to soften these last linos, in a postscript he adds: "Something tells me that I will see you again." The expectation of facing death at any momont, kept this Zouave in the gravo thought of religion. There is nothing more beautiful than the tone of this truly Christian soldier's letters. "Do you know," ho writes, "that we never sloop without a pure conscience; for our situation is such that wo hourly expect to bo killed: Would you not like to hear of your son dying in a battle, where wo would be one against forty? What death more beautiful than to die for God in the person of His Vicar? Ah! then, do not weep, I pray you, but rather have a Tc Dcum sung; for if I die, it will be as a martyr." The hour of sacrifice was at hand. On the 27th of October, Garibaldi occu pied the two small cities of Montana and Monte Rotondo; it might therefore reasonably be expected to sec him at any time under the walls of Rome. Time, however, was not left him; the French auxiliary troops, headed by General do Failly, was about to land in Civita Vicchia,' and on the night of the 2nd of November, the small Ponti fical army, strengthened by this body, advanced to meet the enemy, The tricolored flag fluttered by the side of the Papal colors; for then, as in the beautiful days of her history, France held in her hand the sword of God. While the French formed the reserve, the Zouaves formed the vanguard; be cause it was but just that these young heroes, so long alone in the strife, should now be first in honor. "We advance," writes one of the actors of that scene, like Ilenguenet, a former student of St. Bertin's, "singing the song of Battalion." The conflict was begun without any satisfactory result. When, however, General de la Ohar rette, arriving in the midst of leaden balls, cried out: "Removo that, my friends, at the point of your bayonets," and urged his horse to the front, each man instantly dropped his sack, and rushed upon the enemy. It was a liv ing water-spout, not to be rosisted; tho Garibaldians, completely routed, fled to Montana. Ilenguonot, though he had suffered several wounds, was not tho least ardent to pursue thorn; he had recognized tho chiof oLtho sacrilogious