but the "Cosmopolite" of to-day says—"I should wish to have the pen of Jeremiah, to describe the desolation and calamities of this city, which has been the mistress of the new world. In the days of mourning that have passed, we have not been able to fix our eyes on any part of it, where we have not encountered desolation, weeping, and death. The palace has become a sieve, and the southern bulwark is destroyed; that part of the portal which looks towards the Monterilla is ruined; the finest buildings in the centre have suffered a great deal; innumerable houses at great distances from it have been also much injured by stray balls. Persons of all ages, classes, and conditions, who interfered in nothing, have been killed, not only in the streets, but even in their own apartments. The balls crossed each other in every direction, and the risk has been universal. The city has been in the dark during these days, without patrol or watch; and many malefactors have taken advantage of this opportunity, to use the murderous poniard without risk and with the utmost perfidy. At the break of day, horrible spectacles were seen, of groups of dogs disputing the remains of a man, a woman, and a child." The "Cosmopolite" goes on to insist upon the necessity of forming a new ministry and of a reform in the two houses.
August 1st.—Have just come in from a drive through the city. The palace and houses near it are certainly in a melancholy condition. The palace, with its innumerable smashed windows and battered walls, looks as if it had become stone blind in con-
