river, the vast masses of the enemy in their strong intrenchments, the frowning batteries, loaded to the muzzle with grape-shot, to sweep the advancing ranks, the well fed war-horses in countless numbers, prancing for the charge, apparently presented an obstacle which no human energy could surmount.

Napoleon, seeing the ample preparations made to oppose him, ordered his troops to withdraw beyond the reach of the enemies' fire, and to prepare for breakfast. As by magic the martial array was at once transformed into a peaceful picnic scene. Arms were laid aside. The soldiers threw themselves upon the green grass, just sprouting in the valley, beneath the rays of the sun of early spring. Fires were kindled, kettles

boiling, knapsacks opened, and groups, in carelessness and joviality, gathered around fragments of bread and meat.

The Archduke Charles, seeing that Napoleon declined the attempt to pass the river until he had refreshed his exhausted troops, withdrew his forces also into the rear to their encampments. When all was quiet, and the Austrians were thrown completely off their guard, suddenly the trumpets sounded the preconcerted signal. The French troops, disciplined to prompt movements, sprang to their arms, instantly formed in battle array, plunged into the stream, and, before the Austrians had recovered from their astonishment, were half across the river. This movement was executed with such inconceivable rapidity, as to

excite the admiration as well as the consternation feats of the most romantic valor, and in the disof their enemies. With the precision and beauty play of the most perfect contempt of life. In of the parade ground, the several divisions of the every fortress, at every mountain pass, upon every army gained the opposite shore. The Austrians rapid stream, the Austrians made a stand to arrest rallied as speedily as possible. But it was too the march of the conqueror. But with the footlate. A terrible battle ensued. Napoleon was steps of a giant, Napoleon crowded upon them, victor at every point. The Imperial army, with pouring an incessant storm of destruction upon their ranks sadly thinned, and leaving the ground their fugitive ranks. He drove the Austrians to gory with the blood of the slain, retreated in con- the foot of the mountains. He pursued them up fusion to await the arrival of the reinforcements the steep acclivities. He charged the tempests coming to their aid. Napoleon pressed upon their of wind and smothering snow with the sound of rear, every hour attacking them, and not allowing the trumpet, and his troops exulted in waging them one moment to recover from their panic. war with combined man and the elements. Soon The Austrian troops, thus suddenly and unex- both pursuers and pursued stood upon the sumpectedly defeated, were thrown into the extreme mit of the Carnic Alps. They were in the region of dejection. The exultant French, convinced of of almost perpetual snow. the absolute invincibility of their beloved chief, which seemed memorials of eternity, spread bleak ambitiously sought out points of peril and adven- and cold around them. The clouds floated beneath tures of desperation, and with shouts of laughter, their feet. The eagle wheeled and screamed as and jokes, and making the welkin ring with songs he soared over the sombre firs and pines far below of liberty, plunged into the densest masses of their on the mountain sides. Here the Austrians made foes. The different divisions of the army vied a desperate stand. On the storm-washed crags with each other in their endeavor to perform, of granite, behind fields of ice and drifts of snow

The vast glaciers,

which he French cavalry could not traverse, they intellect. It was addressed to his illustrious adsought to intrench themselves against their tire-versary, the Archduke Charles. less pursuer. To retreat down the long and nar

"General-in-chief. Brave soldiers, while they row defiles of the mountains, with the French in make war, desire peace. Has not this war alhot pursuit behind, hurling upon them every mis-ready continued six years? Have we not slain sile of destruction, bullets, and balls, and craggy enough of our fellow-men? Have we not infragments of the cliffs, was a calamity to be avoid-flicted a sufficiency of woes upon suffering hued at every hazard. Upon the summit of Mount Tarwis, the battle, decisive of this fearful question, was to be fought. It was an appropriate arena for the fell deeds of war. Wintry winds swept the bleak and icy eminence, and a clear, cold, cloudless sky canopied the two armies as, with fiend-like ferocity, they hurled themselves upon each other. The thunder of artillery reverberated above the clouds. The shout of onset and the shrieks of the wounded were heard upon eminences which even the wing of the eagle had rarely attained. Squadrons of cavalry fell upon fields of ice, and men and horses were precipitated into fathomless depths below. The snow drifts of Mount Tarwis were soon crimsoned with blood, and the warm current from human hearts congealed with the eternal glacier, and there, em-sibility of saving Austria by the force of arms. balmed in ice, it long and mournfully testified of man's inhumanity to man.

The Archduke Charles, having exhausted his last reserve, was compelled to retreat. Many of the soldiers threw away their arms, and escaped over the crags of the mountains; thousands were taken prisoners; multitudes were left dead upon the ice, and half-buried in the drifts of snow. But Charles, brave and energetic, still kept the mass of his army together, and with great skill conducted his precipitate retreat. With merciless vigor the French troops pursued, pouring down upon the retreating masses a perfect storm of bullets, and rolling over the precipitous sides of the mountains huge rocks, which swept away whole companies at once. The bleeding, breathless fugitives at last arrived in the valley below. Napoleon followed close in their rear. The Alps were now passed. The French were in Austria. They heard a new language. The scenery, the houses, the customs of the inhabitants, all testified that they were no longer in Italy. They had with unparalleled audacity entered the very heart of the Austrian empire, and with unflinching resolution were marching upon the capital of twenty millions of people, behind whose ramparts, strengthened by the labor of ages, Maria Theresa | had bidden defiance to the invading Turks.

Twenty days had now passed since the opening of the campaign, and the Austrians were already driven over the Alps, and having lost a fourth of their numbers in the various conflicts which had occurred, dispirited by disaster, were retreating to intrench themselves for a final struggle within the walls of Vienna. Napoleon, with 45,000 men, flushed with victory, was rapidly descending the fertile steams which flow into the Danube.

Under these triumphant circumstances Napoleon showed his humanity, and his earnest desire for peace, in dictating the following most noble letter, so characteristic of his strong and glowing

manity? It demands repose upon all sides. Europe, which took up arms against the French Republic, has laid them aside. Your nation alone remains hostile, and blood is about to flow more copiously than ever. This sixth campaign has commenced with sinister omens. Whatever may be its issue, many thousand men, on the one side and the other, must perish. And after all we must come to an accommodation, for every thing has an end, not even excepting the passion of hatred. You, general, who by birth approach so near the throne, and are above all the little passions which too often influence ministers and governments, are you resolved to deserve the title of benefactor of humanity, and of the real saviour of Austria. Do not imagine that I deny the pos

But even in such an event your country will not be the less ravaged. As for myself, if the overture which I have the honor to make, shall be the means of saving a single life, I shall be more proud of the civic crown which I shall be conscious of having deserved. than of all the melancholy glory which military success can confer."

To these magnanimous overtures the Archduke replied: "In the duty assigned to me there is no power either to scrutinize the causes or to terminate the duration of the war, I am not invested with any authority in that respect, and therefore can not enter into any negotiation for peace."

In this most interesting correspondence, Napoleon, the plebeian general, speaks with the dignity and the authority of a sovereign; with a natural, unaffected tone of command, as if accustomed from infancy to homage and empire. The brother of the king is compelled to look upward to the pinnacle upon which transcendent abilities have placed his antagonist. The conquering Napoleon pleads for peace; but Austria hates republican liberty even more than war. Upon the rejection of these proposals the thunders of Napoleon's artillery were again heard, and over the hills and through the valleys, onward he rushed with his impetuous troops, allowing his foe no repose. At every mountain gorge, at every rapid river, the Austrians stood, and were slain. Each walled town was the scene of a sanguinary conflict, and the Austrians were often driven in the wildest confusion pell-mell with the victors through the streets. At last they approached another mountain range called the Stipian Alps. Here, at the frightful gorge of Neumarkt, a defile so gloomy and terrific that even the peaceful tourist can not pass through it unawed, Charles again made a desperate effort to arrest his pursuers. It was of no avail. Blood flowed in torrents, thousands were slain. The Austrians, encumbered with baggage-wagons and artillery, choked the narrow passages, and a scene of indescribable

not merely a burst of romantic enthusiasm, but | ing passed beyond the snow-clad summits of the it was dictated by a deep insight into the possi- Alps, were lost to Italian observation, far away bilities of the future. "If one day the French upon the tributaries of the Danube. Rumor, people," he afterward remarked, "should wish to create a monarchy, the Emperor might object that he had recognized a republic." Both parties being now desirous of terminating the war, the preliminaries were soon settled. Napoleon, as if he were already the Emperor of France, waited not for the plenipotentiaries from Paris, but signed the treaty in his own name. He thus placed himself upon an equal footing with the Emperor of Austria. The equality was unhesitatingly recognized by the Imperial government. In the settlement of the difficulties between these two majestic powers, neither of them manifested much regard for the minor states. Napoleon allowed Austria to take under her protection many of the states of Venice, for Venice had proved treacherous to her professed neutrality, and merited no protection from his hands.

Napoleon, having thus conquered peace, turned to lay the rod upon trembling Venice. Richly did Venice deserve his chastising blows. In those days, when railroads and telegraphs were unknown, the transmission of intelligence was slow. The little army of Napoleon had traversed weary leagues of mountains and vales, and hav

with her thousand voices filled the air. It was reported that Napoleon was defeated-that he was a captive-that his army was destroyed. The Venetian oligarchy, proud, cowardly, and revengeful, now raised the cry, "Death to the French." The priests incited the peasants to frenzy. They attacked unarmed Frenchmen in the streets and murdered them. They assailed the troops in garrison with overwhelming numbers. The infuriated populace even burst into the hospitals, and poniarded the wounded and the dying in their beds. Napoleon, who was by no means distinguished for meekness and longsuffering, turned sternly to inflict upon them punishment which should long be remembered. The haughty oligarchy was thrown into a paroxysm of terror, when it was announced, that Napoleon was victor instead of vanquished, and that, having humbled the pride of Austria, he was now returning with an indignant and triumphant army burning for vengeance. The Venetian Senate, bewildered with fright, dispatched agents to deprecate his wrath. Napoleon, with a pale and marble face, received them. Without uttering a word he listened to their awkward attempts

most consummate firmness and wisdom. All the states of Italy, Piedmont, Genoa, Naples, the States of the Church, Parma, Tuscany, were agitated with the intense desire for liberty. Napoleon was unwilling to encourage insurrection. He could not lend his arms to oppose those who were struggling for popular rights. In Genoa, the patriots rose. The haughty aristocracy fell in revenge upon the French, who chanced to be in the territory. Napoleon was thus compelled to interfere. The Genoese aristocracy were forced to abdicate, and the patriot party, as in Venice, assumed the government. But the Genoese democracy began now in their turn, to trample upon the rights of their former oppressors. The revolutionary scenes which had disgraced Paris, began to be re-enacted in the streets of Genoa. They excluded the priests and the no

thunders of Napoleon's cannon were reverberating across the lagoons which surround the Queen of the Adriatic. The doge, pallid with consternation, assembled the Grand Council, and proposed the surrender of their institutions to Napoleon, to be remodeled according to his pleasure. While they were deliberating, the uproar of insurrection was heard in the streets. The aristocrats and the republicans fell furiously upon each other. The discharge of fire-arms was heard under the very windows of the council-house. Opposing shouts of "Liberty forever," and "Long live St. Mark," resounded through the streets. The city was threatened with fire and pillage. Amid this horrible confusion three thousand French soldiers crossed the lagoons in boats and entered the city. They were received with long shouts of welcome by the populace, hungering for republican liberty. Resistance was hopeless. An unconditional sur-bles from participating in the government, as the render was made to Napoleon, and thus fell one nobles and priests had formerly excluded them. of the most execrable tyrannies this world has Acts of lawless violence passed unpunished. ever known. The course Napoleon then pursued The religion of the Catholic priests was treated was so magnanimous as to extort praise from his with derision. Napoleon, earnestly and elobitterest foes. He immediately threw open the quently, thus urged upon them a more humane prison doors to all who were suffering for polit-policy. "I will respond, citizens, to the confiical opinions. He pardoned all offenses against dence you have reposed in me. It is not enough himself. He abolished aristocracy, and estab- that you refrain from hostility to religion. You lished a popular government, which should fairly should do nothing which can cause inquietude represent all classes of the community. The to tender consciences. To exclude the nobles public debt was regarded as sacred, and even the from any public office, is an act of extreme inpensions continued to the poor nobles. It was justice. You thus repeat the wrong which you a glorious reform for the Venetian nation. It condemn in them. Why are the people of Genoa was a terrible downfall for the Venetian aristoc- so changed? Their first impulses of fraternal racy. The banner of the new republic now kindness have been succeeded by fear and terror. floated from the windows of the palace, and as it Remember that the priests were the first who waved exultingly in the breeze, it was greeted rallied around the tree of liberty. They first with the most enthusiastic acclamations, by the told you that the morality of the gospel is dempeople who had been trampled under the foot of ocratic. Men have taken advantage of the faults, oppression for fifteen hundred years. perhaps of the crimes of individual priests. to unite against Christianity. You have proscribed without discrimination. When a state becomes accustomed to condemn without hearing, to applaud a discourse because it impassioned; when exaggeration and madness are called virtue, moderation and equity designated as crimes, that state is near its ruin. Believe me, I shall consider that one of the happiest moments of my life in which I hear that the people of Genoa are united among themselves and live happily."

This advice, thus given to Genoa, was intended to re-act upon France, for the Directory then had under discussion a motion for banishing all the nobles from the Republic. The voice of Napoleon was thus delicately and efficiently introduced into the debate, and the extreme and terrible measure was at once abandoned.

All Italy was now virtually at the feet of Napoleon. Not a year had yet elapsed since he, a nameless young man of twenty-five years of age, with thirty thousand ragged and half starved troops, had crept along the shores of the Mediterranean, hoping to surprise his powerful foes. He had now traversed the whole extent of Italy, compelled all its hostile states to respect republican France, and had humbled the Emperor of Austria as emperor had rarely been humbled before. The Italians, recognizing him as a countryman, and proud of his world-wide renown, regarded him, not as a conqueror, but as a liberator. His popularity was boundless. Wherever he appeared the most enthusiastic acclamations welcomed him. Bonfires blazed upon every hill in honor of his movements. The bells rang their merriest peals, wherever he appeared. Long Napoleon performed another act at this time, lines of maidens strewed roses in his path. The which drew down upon him a very heavy load reverberations of artillery and the huzzas of the of obloquy from the despotic governments of populace saluted his footsteps. Europe was at Europe, but which must secure the approval of peace; and Napoleon was the great pacificator. every generous mind. There was a small state For this object he had contended against the in Italy called the Valteline, eighteen miles wide, most formidable coalitions. He had sheathed and fifty-four miles long, containing one hundred his victorious sword, the very moment his ene- and sixty thousand inhabitants. These unfortu nies were willing to retire from the strife. nate people had become subjects to a German Still the position of Napoleon required the state called the Grisons, and, deprived of all