“On the morning of the 8th of January, we found ourselves, after several days’ hard marching and fatigue, in the vicinity of the river San Gabriel; on the north side of which the enemy had fortified themselves to the number of five hundred mounted men, with four pieces of artillery, under Gen. Flores, and in a position so commanding, that it seemed impossible to gain any point by which our troops could be protected from their galling fire. They presented their forces in three divisions—one on our right, another on our left, and a third in front, with the artillery. On reaching the south side of the river, the commodore dismounted, forded the stream, and commanded the troops to pass over, which they did promptly under the brisk fire of the enemy’s artillery. He ordered the artillery not to unlimber till the opposite bank should be gained; as soon as this was effected, he ordered a charge directly in the teeth of the enemy’s guns, which soon resulted in the possession of the commanding position they had just occupied. The first gun fired was aimed by the commodore before the charge was made up the hill; this overthrew the enemy’s gun, which had just poured forth its thunder in our midst. Having gained this important position, a brisk cannonading was kept up for some time. We encamped on the spot for the night. The next day we met the enemy again on the plains of the Mesa, near the city. They made a bold and resolute stand; tried our lines on every side; and manœuvred their artillery with much skill. But the firm and steady courage with which our troops continued to defend themselves, repelled their attempts at a general charge, and we found ourselves again victorious. We encamped again near the battleground, and on the morning of the tenth marched into the city, while the adjacent hills were glistening with the lances of the enemy.” SUNDAY, JAN. 31. It is sweet in a land of tumult and strife to see the Sabbath sun come up. Its sacred light melts over the rough aspects of war like melting dew down the frontlet of the crouched lion. May the spirit of devotion, in its ascending flight, bear into a serener element the aspirations of the human heart! There let faith, and hope, and immortal love build their tabernacle. It shall be a dwelling for the soul when the palaces, temples, and towers of earth are in ruins. Over its gem-inwoven roof shall stream the light of stars that never set; flowers that cannot die shall wreath its colonnade, and hang in fragrant festoons from its walls; while the voices of streamlets, as they flash over their golden sands, shall pour unceasing music on the wandering air.