in hostility, and yet blood flows faster than ever. This sixth campaign has commenced under ominous circumstances. End how it will, some thousands of men more will be slain on either side; and at length, after all, we must come to an agreement, for every thing must have an end at last—even the angry passions of men. The executive directory made known to the emperor their desire to put a period to the war which desolates both countries; but the intervention of the court of London opposed it. Are there no means of coming to an understanding, and must we continue to cut each others throats for the interests or passions of a nation, herself a stranger to the miseries of war? You, the general in chief, who approach by birth so near the crown, and are above all those petty passions which agitate ministers and the members of government, will you resolve to be the benefactor of mankind, and the true saviour of Germany? Do not suppose that I mean by that expression to intimate that it is impossible for you to defend yourself by force of arms; but, under the supposition that fortune were to become favorable to you, Germany would be equally exposed to ravage.

With respect to my own feelings, general, if this proposition should be the means of saving one single life, I should prefer a civic crown so merited to the melancholy glory attending military triumph.'

The archduke's grave and simple answer was a striking contrast to this theatrical declamation. 'Unquestionably, sir, in making war and in following the road prescribed by honor and duty, I desire as much as you the attainment of peace for the happiness of the people, and for the sake of humanity. Considering, however, that in the situation I hold it is no part of my business to enquire into and determine the quarrel of the belligerent powers, and that I am not furnished on the part of the emperor with any plenipotentiary powers for treating, you will excuse me, general, if I do not enter into a negociation with you touching a matter of the highest importance but which does not lie within my department. Whatever shall happen, either respecting the future chances of the war, or the prospect of peace, I request you to be equally convinced of my distinguished esteem.'

The negociation was broken off; the archduke made a lion-like retreat, fighting through the mountains, and turning fiercely on the French, who hung on his march step by step, until Upper Styria was evacuated, and Buonaparte, entering upon Lower Styria, saw before him the boundless plain of Austria, and, between his battalions and the walls of Vienna, nothing but a fugitive population, cities terrified and throwing open their gates, and a broken host carrying dismay far and wide.

He descended from the hills and advanced within a few marches of the capital, where the archduke had determined to fight the final battle for his country. But the spirit of the Germans was at last broken; the fears of a great and luxurious city roused by the unusual clamors of war, and still more nearly touched by the sight of the wounded and wreck of its own volunteers, over

whelmed the courage of the government. The court gave the fatal example of despair by sending its treasures into Hungary. The archduke alone raised his voice in the grand council for resistance to the last. The army, indignant at defeat and strongly devoted to this gallant soldier, were ready to perish with him before a French foot should pollute the mother city of the empire. He represented to the council that Buonaparte at every step in advance was leaving his resources behind, that he was plunging into a country where every man's hand would be raised against him, that the warlike dependencies of Austria were ready to pour down their thousands and tens of thousands on the rear of the French, and finally that peace now made would be only a truce leading to a bloodier and more conclusive war. On the 13th of April, 1797, the preliminaries of peace were signed at Leoben. Buonaparte had felt the hazard of his position in the midst of the hostile millions of Austria; and he acknowledged it in his answer to the murmurs of the directory, at his giving a respite to the empire. If,' said he, in his despatch from Leoben, at the commencement of the Italian campaigns, I had made a point of going to Turin, I should never have passed the Po; had I insisted prematurely on advancing to Rome, I should never have secured Milan; and, now had I made an indispensable object of reaching Vienna, I might have destroyed the republic.'

In some of the battles and situations which marked the progress and character of the Italian campaigns, circumstances of a personal nature to Buonaparte occurred, which cannot be omitted in any notice of his life, however brief.

It seems a singular custom was established in the army of Italy. After each battle, the oldest soldiers used to hold a council, and confer a new rank on their young general, who, when he made his appearance in the camp, was received by the veterans, and saluted by his new title. They made Buonaparte a corporal at Lodi, and a serjeant at Castiglione; and hence the surname of petit caporal, which for a long time was applied to him by the soldiers.

The right to command, which Buonaparte possessed in a very great degree, appeared so undeniable, that every one yielded to it, from the general down to the private. One day he had occasion to complain to Berthier that the measures prescribed for provisioning the army had not been followed, 'That,' said Berthier,' is astonishing; however, I have given my orders for this purpose.'-'What do you call your orders?' replied Buonaparte, briskly. 'Here is only one man who has any right to give orders, and that is myself; it is the business of the rest to obey: and so to begin with you, sir, mount your horse, and see that my orders are obeyed.'

A body of 4000 or 5000 Austrians, partly composed of those who had been cut off at the battle of Lonado, partly of stragglers from Lunsdonowich, received information from the peasantry, that the French troops, having departed in every direction to improve their success, had only left a garrison of 1200 men in the town of Lonado, the commander of the division resolved instantly to take possession of the town, and thus

to open his march to the Mincio, to join Wurmser. Now it happened that Buonaparte himself, coming from Castiglione with only his staff for pretection, had just entered Lonado. He was surprised when an Austrian officer was brought before him blindfolded, as is the custom on such occasions, who summoned the French commandant of Lonado to surrender to a superior force of Austrians, who, he stated, were already forming columns of attack to carry the place by irresistible force of numbers. Buonaparte, with admirable presence of mind, collected his numerous staff around him, caused the officer's eyes to be unbandaged, that he might see in whose presence he stood, and upbraid him with the insolence of which he had been guilty, in bringing a summons of surrender to the French commanderin-chief in the middle of his army. The credu lous officer, recognising the presence of Buonaparte, and believing it impossible that he could be there without at least a strong division of his army, stammered out an apology, and returned to persuade his dispirited commander to surrender himself and the 5000 men and upwards whom he commanded, to the comparatively small force which occupied Lonado. They grounded their arms accordingly to one-fourth of their number, and missed an inviting and easy opportunity of carrying Buonaparte prisoner to Wurmser's head quarters.

'The number of the dead near Bassano was considerable. Curious to ascertain the loss of the enemy, Buonaparte in the evening rode over the field with his staff, when their notice was attracted by the howlings of a dog, that seemed to increase in proportion as they approached the spot whence they proceeded. In the deep silence of a beautiful moon-light night,' said the emperor, a dog leaping suddenly from beneath the clothes of his dead master, rushed upon us, and then immediately returned to his hidingplace, howling piteously. He alternately licked his master's hand, and ran towards us, as if at once soliciting aid and seeking revenge. Whether owing to my own particular turn of mind at that moment, the time, the place, or the action itself, I know not, but certainly no incident on any field of battle ever produced so deep an impression on me. I involuntarily stopped to contemplate the scene. This man, thought I, has friends in the camp or in his company, and here he lies forsaken by all except his dog. What a lesson nature presents here, through the medium of an animal! What a strange being is man! and how mysterious are his impressions! I had without emotion ordered battles which were to decide the fate of the army: I had beheld with tearless eye the execution of those operations by which numbers of my countrymen were sacrificed; and here my feelings were roused by the mournful howlings of a dog! Certainly at that moment I should have been easily moved by a suppliant enemy. I could very well imagine Achilles surrendering up the body of Hector at the sight of Priam's

tears.'

Several anecdotes are related, of the danger to which Buonaparte was personally exposed during the three days' fighting at Arcole. Las Cases, mentioning the bridge at Arcole, says, 'Here

Napoleon in person tried a last effort: he seized a standard, rushed towards the bridge, and fixed it there. The column he led had half cleared the bridge when the flank fire caused their attack to fail. The grenadiers of the head of the column, abandoned by the rear, hesitate and are induced to retire; but they will not abandon their general: they seize him by his arms, his hair, and his clothes, and drag him along with them in their flight, amidst the dead, the dying, the fire and the smoke. The generalin-chief is thrown into a marsh, where he sinks up to the middle: he is in the midst of the enemy; but the French perceive that their general is not amongst them... A cry is heard of Soldiers! forward to rescue the general!' These brave men instantly turn, and rush upon the enemy; they drive them beyond the bridge, and Napoleon is saved.'

'Napoleon acknowledged, whilst at St. Helena, that he considered himself in the greatest danger at Arcole; his horse was shot under him; when, rendered furious by the wound, the animal seized the bit between his teeth, and galloped on towards the enemy. In the agonies of death he plunged into a morass, and expired, leaving his rider nearly up to his neck in the swamp, and in a situation from which, as he could not extricate himself, he thought the Austrians would have come and cut off his head, which appeared just above the surface. However the approach of the French troops in all probability prevented them.'

'After these three hard fought days of Arcole, Buonaparte surprised a sleeping sentinel. Napoleon, who offered up his own repose as a sacrifice for the more imperious calls of promptitude and glory, proceeded, alone, to visit the outskirts of the camp, and in this survey arrived at the spot where lay extended the sleeping sentinel, who could hardly be deemed guilty of a breach of duty, but the unwilling victim of extreme fatigue, that totally overpowered him. Buonaparte, unmindful of his dignity, and actuated only by noble motives, took up the soldier's musket, which lay beside him; when, placing it upon his own shoulder, he continued to mount guard for nearly an hour, in order to insure the safety of the camp. The grenadier at length awoke, and sought for his piece in vain, but, by the light of the moon, perceived the general, who had thus paid respect to his repose.

'O! I am undone !' vociferated the soldier, recognising Napoleon, whose lineaments are graven upon the heart of every warrior.

'No, my friend,' replied the general with extreme affability, at the same time surrendering up his musket, the battle was obstinate and long enough contested to excuse your having thus yielded to the impulse of fatigue; one moment of inattention, however, might endanger the safety of the camp; I was awake, and have only to advise that you would be more upon your guard for the future!'

Among the officers who perished in the battle of Arcole, were Muiron, as before related, and Elliot, whose names have been consecrated by Buonaparte to immortality; the former fell on the 15th, the latter on the 16th, and both near the

was an object of suspicion to the directory, which, at variance with each other, unpopular with the nation, and despised by the armies, were, nevertheless, resolved to retain their power against every competitor. But Buonaparte entertained views of supplanting them he could not conceal from himself, and it was equally obvious to all who were acquainted with the lofty character of his ambition. But as the time was not come, or, to use his own metaphor, as the fruit was not ripe,' it was necessary that he should open to himself another field of exertion, where he might reap the glorious harvest of conquest and renown. Visions of oriental dominion dazzled his imagination, the subjugation of Egypt, which was to reveal to science the buried treasures of the birth-place of all knowledge, and give to France a new colony, with all that had been torn from her by the Bri tish arms: the gate to India, and the secure citadel of the Mediterranean. This was the magnificent, and we may truly add the atrocious, project which he submitted to the directory, which they at once adopted, and which they appointed the conqueror of Italy to execute: whatever they thought of the undertaking itself their motives were undoubtedly those of freeing themselves from the invidious presence of a servant in whom they dreaded a master; and of chaining up, far from France, a body of troops fierce with victory, and sworn to the fortunes of their general. Be it remembered, at this period of meditated and unprovoked invasion, Egypt was a province of the grand signior, with whom France was in profound peace, and who according to the long established relations of Europe was her natural ally. On the 19th of May, 1798, the Egyptian armament sailed from Toulon. On the 29th of June the troops landed at Alexandria and pursued the armed Copts and Mamelukes through the valley of the Nile into Upper Egypt. But the enemy that was yet to confront and pursue Napoleon through all his career, to grow with his growth and strengthen with his strength, and finally to strike him to the earth without hope, was now roused. On the 15th of August the British fleet, under Nelson, was seen steering down on the bay of Aboukir. The French fleet was instantly attacked. The long preparations for defence, the land batteries, the hazards of a difficult and untried shore, all gave way to Nelson. In an action, whose story is immortal, the French armament was destroyed, the French expedition sealed up in a foreign country, and England made the mistress of the Mediter

ranean.

The vague and wild hope entertained by Buonaparte of making an impression on the eastern world, which might place its destinies at his command, and give him a throne more enviable than Europe could bestow, soon vanished from his view; while his moral obliquities, his contempt of God and man, his mean hypocrisy and deep impiety, were seen at this early period of his career. The poisoning at Jaffa we put out of the question: it is neither more nor less than a foul calumny. But the massacre at that place is universally known; and it is a crime without palliation. That the victims had forVOL. XV.

feited their faith to a lawless conqueror, who had fought them in their native land for the purpose of spoliage and destruction, is no palliation of the wholesale murder which was perpetrated at Jaffa. 1200 prisoners, and probably more, who had surrendered themselves to Napoleon, and were apparently admitted to quarter, were two days after marched out of the fort, divided into small bodies, and then deliberately shot; and, in case the musket was not effectual, were des patched by bayonets. This was an outrage which cannot be sheltered by the laws an usages of war, barbarous as they are. It was the deed of a bandit and a savage, and ought to be execrated by good men, who value and would preserve the mitigations which Christianity has infused into the conduct of national hostilities But in this, and in all the other passages of his public life, Buonaparte was not restrained by any sense of virtue or humanity: with him no means which promised success were thought the worse for their guilt. But crimes against humanity, in conquerors and usurpers, are too common to excite either much wonder or deep indignation, as society is at present constituted. Yet few men have gone to such length in impious extravagance as this man of destiny. It was not enough for him to boast of his triumph over the cross, or to profess Mahometanism. He claimed inspiration and a commission from God, and was anxious to join the character of prophet to that of hero. This was the beginning of the great weaknesses and errors into which he was betrayed by that spirit of self-exaggeration which, under the influence of past success, and of unbounded flattery, was already growing into a kind of insanity. In his own view he was fit to be a compeer with Mahomet. His greatness in his own eyes made him blind to the folly of urging his supernatural claims on the Turk, who contemned even more than he abhorred a Frank; and who would sooner have sold himself a slave to Christians than have acknowledged a renegade Christian as a sharer of the glories of Mahomet.

On the arrival of the fleet at Alexandria, Buonaparte issued a proclamation, from which we extract the following:

The people whom we are going amongst, are Mahometans; the first article of their faith runs thus:-There is no other God but God, and Mahomet is his prophet. Do not contradict them; act with them as we have done with the Jews, and with the Italians; pay respect to their muftis and their imans, the same as you have to rabbis and bishops; show the same tolerance for their mosques, and all the ceremonies prescribed by their Alcoran, as you have already shown for convents and synagogues, for the religion of Moses, and for that of Jesus Christ.'

At length the French disembarked from the roads of the town, which they attacked, and which capitulated, after a dreadful carnage; the inhabitants, however, were respected by their conquerors; their commander concluded a treaty with the Arabs, and, so far from opposing their religious customs, he spoke of Mahomet as an extraordinary personage, who was worthy of the homage of all nations. In his first proclamation

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to the Alexandrians there is found this remarkable passage:

Cadies, sheicks, imans, tehorbajas, tell your people that we are the true Mussulmans. Was it not we that overthrew the power of the pope?"

The Arabs, who in the morning had attacked the advanced guard, sent a deputation to the general-in-chief, with some French soldiers who had fallen into their hands. They declared that, as the French only came to fight the Mamelukes, they could not be their enemies. Buonaparte broke bread with them, as a symbol of the faith of treaties, and made them various presents. They warmly expressed their gratitude; they swore to be faithful to the alliance! and returned, plundering all the French they encountered!

From Alexandria the army took the road to Cairo, and defeated the Arabs and Mamelukes, who had gathered together to dispute with them the passage to Rhamania and Chabrane. The Mameluke cavalry sought in vain to cut down the French troops; they remained in an impenetrable line; twenty times they were about to charge, but were restrained by fear; at length they thought proper to make good their retreat.

In the morning of the 10th of July the army came in sight of the pyramids, and at night they were within six leagues of Cairo. They found twenty-three beys intrenched with all their force at Embabe; Buonaparte caused them to be attacked in their intrenchments, by Generals Dessaix and Rampon; and, notwithstanding their fine appearance and some sorties, victory declared in favor of the French. Almost all the Mamelukes were slain; 2000 cavalry, and the greater number of the beys, fell on this day: their leader, Murad Bey, was wounded in the cheek. More than fifty pieces of cannon, and 400 loaded camels, became the spoil of the conquerors.

This brilliant victory was followed by the surrender of Cairo, on the 22d of July; but, before Buonaparte entered that city, he addressed a proclamation to the inhabitants:

'People of Cairo, I am satisfied with your behaviour; you did well not to oppose yourselves against me: I am come to destroy the race of the Mamelukes, and to protect the commerce of the natives. Be easy, you have nought to fear; let each individual return peaceably to his home, continue to exercise your usual ceremonies of religious worship, for it is my will they should be continued. Fear not for your wives, your houses, nor your properties; dread not the disturbance of that religion which I sincerely venerate.'

On the 1st of August, 1798, the battle of Aboukir, so fatal to the French navy, took place: Buonaparte wrote to the directory on that eventful day as follows:

It appeared to me that admiral Brueys would not go to Corfu till he was certain it was impossible for him to enter the port of Alexandria, and that the army, from which he had received no intelligence for a considerable time, should be in a position which would prevent their retreating. If, in this fatal instance, he has been in fault, he has expiated his error by a glorious death. In this circumstance destiny has been

uncontrollable, as in many otners, and it proves to us, that if it gives us the subjugation of the continent, it gives the empire of the seas to our rivals. But, however severe this reverse of fortune, it can be attributed only to her accustomed fickleness: she has not yet abandoned us, so far from it, she has favored us, during this operation, more than she ever did before.

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When I arrived before Alexandria, I learnt that the English had passed by with a powerful force a few days before. In spite of a terrible storm, at the risk of being shipwrecked, I disembarked. I recollected that, while preparations were making for their landing, the signal for battle was waving at a distance. It was justice to myself. O Fortune!' I exclaimed, wilt thou abandon me? only five days, and .' I marched all night, I attacked Alexandria at early dawn, with 3000 men, worn out with fatigue, without cannon, without cartridges, and in five days I conquered Rosetta and Demanhour, so that I had already established myself in Egypt. In five days I knew the squadron would be safe from the attacks of the English, however formidable their numbers: so far, however, from that, it remained exposed to them all the rest of the month. It got a supply of rice for two months from Rosetta. The English were in sight, with a superior number of sail, for ten days, in this part of the sea: they gained the intelligence of our having taken possession of Egypt, and of our entry into Cairo. When Fortune saw that all her favors were useless, she abandoned our fleet to Fate.'

Ibrahim Bey fled towards Syria, where Buonaparte resolved to pursue him with vigor, knowing that he had concluded a treaty of peace between England and Turkey, and that he might expect to be attacked by these two powers, as well by land as by sea. All the ports of Egypt were blockaded, and he had received no intelligence from France since the affair at Aboukir. He therefore disposed his force, but he wished first to view the pyramids.

Being accompanied by many officers of his staff and others, he visited the grand pyramid of Cheops, attended by many muftis and imans. It was on this occasion that, beholding the aspect of these imperishable masses, he cried out from the top of these pyramids, Forty ages behold us!'

The following conversation passed in the presence of his suite, with the mufti and imans, Solyman, Ibrahim, and Mohamed. This Napoleon afterwards owned was quackery,' but of a sublime order.

Buonaparte.-God is great and his works are marvellous. Behold a great work of men's hands. What was the intention of him who built this great pyramid?

Solyman. He was a powerful king of Egypt, whose name we believe was Cheops. He wished to hinder sacrilegious persons from violating the repose of his ashes.

Buonaparte.-The great Cyrus was buried in the open air, that his body might return to its elements: do you not think he acted wisest? Do you think so?

Solyman (bowing).-Glory to God, to whom all power is due!