everywhere at once or succeed in everything, and in 1813 Austria took
advantage of his other troubles to try and recapture the Queen of the
Adriatic by force, and when the general Napoleonic collapse came the
restitution was formally made, Venice and Lombardy becoming again
Austrian and the brother of Francis I their ruler.

All went fairly quietly in Venice until 1847, when, shortly after the
fall of the Orleans dynasty in France, Daniele Manin, now an eloquent
and burningly patriotic lawyer, dared to petition the Austrian Emperor
for justice to the nation whom he had conquered, and as a reply was
imprisoned for high treason, together with Niccolò Tommaseo. In 1848, on
March 17, the city rose in revolt, the prison was forced, and Manin not
only was released but proclaimed President of the Venetian Republic. He
was now forty-four, and in the year of struggle that followed proved
himself both a great administrator and a great soldier.

He did all that was humanly possible against the Austrians, but events
were too much for him; bigger battalions, combined with famine and
cholera, broke the Venetian defence; and in 1849 Austria again ruled the
province. All Italy had been similarly in revolt, but her time was not
yet. The Austrians continued to rule until Garibaldi and Victor Emmanuel
built up the United Italy which we now know. Manin, however, did not
live to see that. Forbidden even to return to Venice again, he retired
to Paris a poor and broken man, and there died in 1854.

The myriad Austrians who are projected into Venice every day during the
summer by excursion steamers from Trieste rarely, I imagine, get so far
as the Campo dominated by Manin's exuberant statue with the great winged
lion, and therefore do not see this fine fellow who lived to preserve
his country from them. Nor do they as a rule visit that side of S.