mes, but upon his
own fortunes. He arrived in Paris where he gathered 450,000 men,
many of them mere youths, to support him with their blood. But (p. 203)
Europe was weary of slaughter. Kings might tremble for their crowns,
it was the people, aroused to frenzy, that impelled them to action. On
Napoleon's heels, besides, there was a bloodhound whom nobler
instincts than mere self-preservation inspired to ceaseless pursuit.
Alexander I, at this time, earned and deserved the glorious surname of
The Well-beloved. Not a thought of self-glory or personal
aggrandizement sullied the relentless chase. Emperors and kings
dreading the awakened conscience of the people would have made peace,
and they could have done so with security for themselves, but
Alexander said, "No!" Under fire at the four days' battle of Leipzig,
he personally directed reenforcements where they were required. And
when, at last, the host of invaders stepped on the soil whose people
during twenty years had committed outrages in almost every known
country of Europe, they were noble words which the Autocrat addressed
to his troops whom he had brought so far away from home. "By invading
our empire," he says, "the enemy has done us much harm, and has
therefore been subjected to a terrible chastisement. The anger of God
has overthrown him. Do not let us imitate him. The merciful God does
not love cruel and inhuman men. Let us forget the evil he has wrought;
let us carry to our foes, not vengeance and hate, but friendship, and
a hand extended in peace."

These were not mere words; Alexander the Well-beloved was sincere. But
it was he who refused to receive Napoleon's envoy at Freiburg, and it
was he who, when Napoleon, fighting like a tiger at bay, was
defeating the separated armies, so that the British envoy urged to (p. 204)
come to terms with him, answered, "It would not be a peace but a
truce. I cannot come four hundred leagues to your assistance every
day. No peace, so long as Napoleon is on the throne!" By his direction
the united armies rolled like an avalanche upon Paris,--and Napoleon
gave up the struggle by abdicating.

Again it was Alexander the Well-beloved who intervened when other
powers would have overwhelmed the fallen colossus. It was Alexander
who procured for his enemy the sovereignty of the island of Elba, and
commissioned Count Schouvalof to escort him. "I confide to you a great
mission;" he said; "you will answer to me with your head for