of the Austrian army, "knows
nothing whatever about the art of war. He is a perfect ignoramus. He
sets at defiance all the established rules of military tactics. There is
no doing any thing with him."

Napoleon, after a series of terrible conflicts and most signal triumphs,
drove the Austrians out of Italy, pursued them into their own country,
and at Leoben, almost within sight of the steeples of Vienna, dictated
a peace, which crowned him, in the estimation of his countrymen, with
the highest glory. Josephine now went from Paris to Italy to meet her
triumphant husband. They took up their residence at the Castle of
Montebello, a most delightful country seat in the vicinity of Milan.

And here Josephine passed a few months of almost unalloyed happiness.
The dark and tempestuous days through which she had recently been led,
had prepared her to enjoy most exquisitely the calm which ensued. She
had been in the deepest penury. She was now in the enjoyment of all that
wealth could confer. She had been widowed and homeless. She was now the
wife of a victorious general whose fame was reverberating through
Europe, and her home combined almost every conceivable attraction. She
had been a prisoner doomed to die, and her very jailer feared to speak
to her in tones of kindness. Now she was caressed by nobles and princes;
all the splendors of a court surrounded her, and every heart did her
homage. Josephine presided at all her receptions and entertainments with
an elegance of manner so winning as perfectly to fascinate the Milanese.
"I conquer provinces," said Napoleon of her at that time, "but
Josephine wins hearts." The vicinity of Montebello combines perhaps as
much of the beautiful and the sublime in scenery as can be found at any
other spot on the surface of the globe. Napoleon sympathized most
cordially with Josephine in her appreciation of the beautiful and the
romantic; and though he devoted the energies of his mind, with
unsleeping diligence, to the ambitious plans which engrossed him, he
found time for many delightful excursions with his fascinating bride.
There is not, perhaps, in Italy a more lovely drive than that from
Milan, along the crystal waters of Lake Como to Lake Maggiore. This
romantic lake, embosomed among the mountains, with its densely wooded
islands and picturesque shores, was a favorite resort for excursions of
pleasure. Here, in gay parties, they floated in boats, with well-trained
rowers, and silken awn