When he talked with the purpose of pleasing, Buonaparte often told anecdotes of his life in a very pleasing manner; when silent, he had something disdainful in the expression of his face; when disposed to be quite at ease, he was, in Madame de Staël's opinion, rather vulgar. His natural tone of feeling seemed to be a sense of internal superiority, and of secret contempt for the world in which he lived, the men with whom he acted, and even the very objects which he pursued. His character and manners were upon the whole strongly calculated to attract the attention of the French nation, and to excite a perpetual interest even from the very mystery which attached to him, as well as from the splendour of his triumphs. The supreme power was residing in the Luxembourg ostensibly; but Paris was aware, that the means which had raised, and which must support and extend that power, were to be found in the humble mansion of the newly-christened Rue de la Victoire.
Some of these features are perhaps harshly designed, as being drawn recentibus odiis. The disagreement between Buonaparte and Madame de Staël, from whom we have chiefly described them, is well known. It originated about this time, when, as a first-rate woman of talent, she was naturally desirous to attract the notice of the Victor of Victors. They appear to have misunderstood each other; for the lady, who ought certainly to know best has informed us, "that far from feeling her fear of Buonaparte removed by repeated meetings, it seemed to increase, and his best exertions to please could not overcome her invincible aversion for what she found in his character."[340] His ironical contempt of excellence of every kind, operated like the sword in romance, which froze while it wounded. Buonaparte seems never to have suspected the secret and mysterious terror with which he impressed the ingenious author of Corinne; on the contrary, Las Cases tells us, that she combined all her efforts, and all her means, to make an impression on the general.[341] She wrote to him when distant, and, as the Count ungallantly expresses it, tormented him when present. In truth, to use an established French phrase, they stood in a false position with respect to each other. Madame de Staël might be pardoned for thinking that it would be difficult to resist her wit and her talent, when exerted with the purpose of pleasing; but Buonaparte was disposed to repel, rather than encourage the advances of one whose views were so shrewd, and her observations so keen, while her sex permitted her to push her inquiries farther than one man might have dared to do in conversing with another. She certainly did desire to look into him "with considerate eyes," and on one occasion put his abilities to the proof, by asking him rather abruptly, in the middle of a brilliant party at Talleyrand's, "whom he esteemed the greatest woman in the world, alive or dead?"—"Her, madam, that has borne the most children," answered Buonaparte, with much appearance of simplicity. Disconcerted by the reply, she observed, that he was reported not to be a great admirer of the fair sex. "I am very fond of my wife, madam," he replied, with one of those brief and yet piquant observations, which adjourned a debate as promptly as one of his characteristic manœuvres would have ended a battle.[342] From this period there was enmity between Buonaparte and Madame de Staël; and at different times he treated her with a harshness which had some appearance of actual personal dislike, though perhaps rather directed against the female politician than the woman of literature. After his fall, Madame de Staël relented in her resentment to him; and we remember her, during the campaign of 1814, presaging in society how the walls of Troyes were to see a second invasion and defeat of the Huns, as had taken place in the days of Attila, while the French Emperor was to enact the second Theodorick.
PARIS—PUBLIC HONOURS.
In the meantime, while popular feeling and the approbation of distinguished genius were thus seeking to pay court to the youthful conqueror,[343] the Directory found themselves obliged to render to him that semblance of homage which could not have been withheld without giving much offence to general opinion, and injuring those who omitted to pay it, much more than him who was entitled by the unanimous voice to receive it. On the 10th of December, the Directory received Buonaparte in public, with honours which the Republican government had not yet conferred on any subject, and which must have seemed incongruous to those who had any recollection of the liberty and equality, once so emphatically pronounced to be the talisman of French prosperity. The ceremony took place in the great court of the Luxembourg palace, where the Directory, surrounded by all that was officially important or distinguished by talent, received from Buonaparte's hand the confirmed treaty of Campo Formio.[344] The delivery of this document was accompanied by a speech from Buonaparte, in which he told the Directory, that, in order to establish a constitution founded on reason, it was necessary that eighteen centuries of prejudices should be conquered—"The constitution of the year THREE, and you, have triumphed over all these obstacles."[345] The triumph lasted exactly until the year EIGHT, when the orator himself overthrew the constitution, destroyed the power of the rulers who had overcome the prejudices of eighteen centuries, and reigned in their stead.
Dec. 28.
The French, who had banished religion from their thoughts, and from their system of domestic policy, yet usually preserved some perverted ceremony connected with it, on public solemnities. They had disused the exercises of devotion, and expressly disowned the existence of an object of worship; yet they could not do without altars, and hymns, and rites, upon such occasions as the present. The general, conducted by Barras, the president of the Directory, approached an erection, termed the Altar of the Country, where they went through various appropriate ceremonies, and at length dismissed a numerous assembly, much edified with what they had seen. The two Councils, or Representative Bodies, also gave a splendid banquet in honour of Buonaparte. And what he appeared to receive with more particular satisfaction than these marks of distinction, the Institute admitted him a member of its body[346] in the room of his friend Carnot, (who was actually a fugitive, and believed at the time to be dead,) while the poet Chenier promulgated his praises, and foretold his future triumphs, and his approaching conquest of England.[347]
There is nothing less philosophical than to attach ridicule to the customs of other nations, merely because they differ from those of our own; yet it marks the difference between England and her continental neighbour, that the two Houses of Parliament never thought of giving a dinner to Marlborough, nor did the Royal Society choose his successor in the path of victory a member by acclamation; although the British nation in either case acquitted themselves of the debt of gratitude which they owed their illustrious generals, in the humbler and more vulgar mode of conferring on both large and princely domains.
Meantime, the threat of invasion was maintained with unabated earnestness. But it made no impression on the British, or rather it stimulated men of all ranks to bury temporary and party dissensions about politics, and bend themselves, with the whole energy of their national character, to confront and resist the preparations made against them. Their determination was animated by recollections of their own traditional gallantry, which had so often inflicted the deepest wounds upon France, and was not now likely to give up to any thing short of the most dire necessity. The benefits were then seen of a free constitution, which permits the venom of party spirit to evaporate in open debate. Those who had differed on the question of peace or war, were unanimous in that of national defence, and resistance to the common enemy; and those who appeared in the vulgar eye engaged in unappeasable contention, were the most eager to unite themselves together for these purposes, as men employed in fencing would throw down the foils and draw their united swords, if disturbed by the approach of robbers.
Buonaparte in the meanwhile made a complete survey of the coast of the British channel, pausing at each remarkable point, and making those remarks and calculations which induced him to adopt, at an after period, the renewal of the project for a descent upon England.[348] The result of his observations decided his opinion, that in the present case the undertaking ought to be abandoned. The immense preparations and violent threats of invasion were carried into no more serious effect than the landing of about twelve or fourteen hundred Frenchmen, under a General Tate, at Fishguard, in South Wales. They were without artillery, and behaved rather like men whom a shipwreck had cast on a hostile shore, than like an invading enemy, as they gave themselves up as prisoners without even a show of defence to Lord Cawdor, who had marched against them at the head of a body of the Welsh militia, hastily drawn together on the alarm. The measure was probably only to be considered as experimental, and as such must have been regarded as an entire failure.[349]
The demonstrations of invasion, however, were ostensibly continued, and every thing seemed arranged on either side for a desperate collision betwixt the two most powerful nations in Europe. But the proceedings of politicians resemble those of the Indian traders called Banians, who seem engaged in talking about ordinary and trifling affairs, while, with their hands concealed beneath a shawl that is spread between them, they are secretly debating and adjusting, by signs, bargains of the utmost importance. While all France and England had their eyes fixed on the fleets and armies destined against the latter country, the Directory and their general had no intention of using these preparations, except as a blind to cover their real object, which was the celebrated expedition to Egypt.