The sun had not risen on the 16th of June, when the enemy began a cannonade, with all the force which they had been laboring to bring to the front in the night. The battle was then commenced; and it continued without interruption till nightfall, being sustained on both sides with great resolution. The first victim on board the Constitucion was again an Italian officer, of great bravery and of the highest promise, Guiseppe Barzone; and I regretted that I could not take charge of his remains, in consequence of the fury of the contest. Much damage was done on both sides. The Republican vessels were riddled and shattered. The corvette, in consequence of not having her shot-holes accurately stopped, leaked so much that she could not be kept afloat without great difficulty, the pumps being at work without cessation. The commandant of the Terceira had been killed in a most daring enterprise by land against the enemy's vessels. In him I lost my best and bravest companion. The killed were numerous, and still more the wounded. The remaining time I was constantly occupied on account of the sinking condition of the vessels. However, there were still powder and shot on board, and we must fight—not for victory, not to save ourselves, but for honor. Some men laugh at the honors of a soldier; but Italians have given strong proof of the existence and power of such a principle in their breasts, particularly in other places and at a later period than that to which we are now attending, especially when Rome was surrounded by the armies of four nations, in 1849, and long defended herself. Those who scoff at the idea of honor in an honest soldier who fights for his friends and country, can too often show base respect for men who abuse and assassinate their fellow-beings, or who claim to be the supporters of their political or religious opinions, though they may be monsters in cruelty or infamous in vice, especially if surrounded with the power of the great or the splendor of courts. We fought for honor, although six hundred miles distant from Montevideo, with enemies from all quarters, after a series of battles, privations and misfortunes, and almost sure of losing everything. In the meantime Vidal, the minister of war of the Republic, squandered doubloons to support his splendid banquets, in the first capitals of Europe. Such is the honor of the world! It is thus that the lives of generous Italians are despised and sacrificed, and they are buried in a land of exile, in the continent of their countryman, Columbus, or in other regions of the earth. Such was Castelli, who was beheaded at Buenos Ayres; Borso di Carminati, shot in Spain;—and this, although they were superior men, and had rendered great services to ungrateful foreigners.