path the whole army was to pass and the columns to charge; for the impetous torrent could not be forded. But a gate closed the further end of the bridge, while the houses filled with soldiers enfiladed the entire opening, and the artillery planted on the heights over it commanded every inch of the narrow way. The high rolling ground along the river was black with the masses of infantry, sustained by terrific batteries of cannon, all trained on that devoted bridge, apparently enough in themselves to tear it in fragments. To crown the whole, an old castle frowned over the stream, on whose crumbling battlements cannon were so planted as to command the bridge. As if this were not enough to deter any man from attempting the passage, another row of heights, over which the road passed, rose behind the first, covered with pine trees, affording a strong position for the enemy to retire to if driven from their first. Thus defended, thirty-five thousand men, supported by eighty cannon, waited to see if the French would attempt to pass the bridge. Even the genius of Massena might have been staggered at the spectacle before him. It seemed like marching his army into the mouth of the volcano to advance on the awful batteries that commanded that long, narrow bridge. It was not like a sudden charge over a short causeway; but a steady march along a narrow defile through a perfect tempest of balls. But this was the key to Vienna, and the Marshall resolved to make the attempt-hoping that Lannes, who was to cross some distance further up, would aid him by a movement on the enemy's flank. The Austrians had foolishly left four battalions on the side from which the French approached. These were first attacked, and being driven from their positions, were forced along the causeway at

the point of the bayonet, and on the bridge followed by the pursuing French. But the moment the French column touched the bridge, those hitherto silent batteries opened their dreadful fire on its head. It sank like a sand bank that caves under the torrent. To advance seemed impossible; but the heroic Cohorn, flinging himself in front, cheered them on, and they returned to the charge, driving like an impetous torrent over the bridge.

"Amid the confusion and chaos of the fight between these flying battalions and their pursuers, the Austrians on the shore saw the French colors flying, and fearing the irruption of the enemy with their friends, closed the gate and poured their tempest of cannon balls on friend and foe alike. The carnage then became awful. Smitten in front by the deadly fire of their friends, and pressed behind with the bayonets of their foes, those battalions threw themselves into the torrent below, or were trampled under foot by the steadily advancing column. Amid the explosion of amunition wagons in the midst, blowing men into the air, and the crashing fire of the enemy's cannon, the French beat down the gate and palisades and rushed with headlong speed into the streets and village. But here, met by fresh battalions in front, and swept by a destructive cross-fire from the houses, while the old castle hurled its storm of lead on their heads, these brave soldiers were compelled to retire, leaving two-thirds of their number stretched on the pavement. But Massena ordered up fresh battalions, which, marching through the tempest that swept the bridge joined their companions, and regaining the village, stormed the castle itself. Along the narrow lanes that led to it the dead lay in swathes, and no sooner did the mangled head of the column reach the castle walls, than it disappeared before the dreadful

fire from the battlements as if it sunk into the earth. Strengthened by a new reinforcement, the dauntless French returned to the assault, and battering down the doors, compelled the garrison to surrender. The Austrian army, however, made good their position on the pine-covered ridge behind the village, and disputed every inch of ground with the most stubborn resolution. The French cavalry, now across, came on a plunging gallop through the streets of the village, trampling on the dead and dying, and amid the flames of the burning houses, and through the smoke that rolled over their pathway, hurried on with exulting shouts and rattling armor to the charge. Still the Austrians held out, till threatened with a flank attack they were compelled to retreat.

"There was not a more desperate passage in the whole war than this. Massena was compelled to throw his brave soldiers, whether dead or wounded, into the stream, to clear a passage for the columns. Whole companies falling at a time, they choked up the way and increased the obstacles to be overcome. These must be sacrificed, or the whole shattered column that was maintaining their desperate position on the farther side be annihilated. It was an awful spectacle to see the advancing soldiers, amid the most destructive fire, themselves pitch their wounded comrades, while calling out most pitiously to be spared, by scores and hundreds into the torrent. Le Grand fought nobly that day. Amid the choked-up defile and deadly fire of the batteries, he fearlessly pressed on, and in answer to the advice of his superior officer, deigned only the stern reply, Room for the head of my columns-none of your advice;' and rushed up to the very walls of the castle. The nature of the contest, and the narrow bridge and streets in which it raged, gave

to the field of battle the most horrid aspect. The dead lay in heaps and ridges piled one across the other, mangled and torn in the most dreadful manner by the hoofs of the cavalry and the wheels of the artillery which were compelled to pass over them. TWELVE THOUSAND men thus lay heaped, packed and trampled together, while across them was stretched burning rafters and timbers which wrung still more terrible cries and shrieks from the dying mass. Even Bonaparte, when he arrived, shuddered at the appalling sight, and turned with horror from the scene. The streets were one mass of mangled, bleeding, trampled men, overlaid with burning ruins.". American Review.

Such was one of the world's ten thousand bloody conflicts. Suppose all the courage and endurance displayed on this horrible occasion could te brought into the service of peace and non-resistance! Should we hear any more of the extreme difficulty, if not impossibility, of carrying out the doctrine? Suppose these soldiers to have been devoted Christian non-resistants, scattered over the whole earth; and suppose them exposed to all the robberies, assaults and batteries, abuses, injuries and insults by any means likely to fall to their lot; and then, let our objector tell us how much harder their service would be, in the army of the Prince of Peace, than that of the Prince of murderers! The truth is, men can endure almost any thing they choose. What they have endured as the servants of sin, is a proof of what they are capable of enduring for righteousness' sake. The latter service requires. not a thousandth part of the physical and mental suffering of the former. How flimsy then is the objection we are considering! Let it never be repeated by any man calling himself a Christian. A true heart, a sound prin

ciple of action, and a conscientious will, can never find Christian non-resistance either an unattainable or an unsupportable virtue.

OBJECTION III.-MORE DIFFICULT IN SMALL THAN LARGE

MATTERS.

"The practice of non-resistance is more difficult in small than large matters. It is not in abstaining from war and battle, or in enduring great and notorious injuries with forbearance, that non-resistance imposes the heaviest burdens. Men gather strength in such cases from the consciousness of public admiration and sympathy,—and even from the magnitude of the conflict and the consequent glory of a triumph. Extraordinary events and occasions inspire an extraordinary enthusiasm, power and firmness of purpose. But in every-day life, where people pass through a thousand trials, consuming to the vital spirits of their being, unnoticed, unsympathized with, unpitied and uncared for, it is by no means so easy to endure the mean, vexatious aggressions, wrongs and insults of petty injurers. But your doctrine obliges the abused wife of a brutal husband, and the insulted and smitten victim of insolent scoundrelism, to refrain from defensive violence, and even from prosecutions at law, at least under the existing type of human government. It does not appear that you would allow even a mob to be repelled with military force, or so much as a demand to be made on the government for the protection of one's property, family or life. It is this extreme and intolerable nicety of your doctrine to which I object, as much as to any thing about it."

ANSWER.

There is truth in the assertion that a practical ex