ery outset there was developed an antagonism between the
notions of the Directory and Bonaparte's interests. The latter
observed all the forms of consulting his superiors, but acted without
the slightest reference to their instructions, often even before they
could receive his despatches. Both he and they knew the weakness of
the French government, and the inherent absurdity of the situation.
The story of French conquest in Italy might be told exactly as if the
invading general were acting solely on his own responsibility. In his
proclamations to the Italians was one language; in his letters to the
executive, another; in a few confidential family communications, still
another; in his own heart, the same old idea of using each day as it
came to advance his own fortunes. As far as he had any love of
country, it was expended on France, and what we may call his
principles were conceptions derived from the Revolution; but somehow
the best interests of France and the safety of revolutionary doctrine
were every day more involved in the pacification of Italy, in the
humiliation of Austria, and in the supremacy of the army. There was
only one man who could secure all three; could give consistency to the
flaccid and visionary policy of the Directory; could repress the
frightful robberies of its civil agents in Italy; could with any show
of reason humble Italy with one hand, and then with the other rouse
her to wholesome energy; could enrich and glorify France while
crushing out, as no royal dynasty had ever been able to do, the
haughty rivalry of the Hapsburgs.

These purposes made Bonaparte the most gentle and conciliatory of men
in some directions; in others they developed and hardened his
imperiousness. His correspondence mirrors both his mildness and his
arbitrariness. His letters to the Directory abound in praise of his
officers and men, accompanied by demands for the promotion of those
who had performed distinguished services. Writing to General Clarke on
November nineteenth, 1796, from Verona, he says, in words full of
pathos: "Your nephew Elliot was killed on the battle-field of Arcola.
This youth had made himself familiar with arms; several times he had
marched at the head of columns; he would one day have been an
estimable officer. He died with glory, in the face of the foe; he did
not suffer for a moment. What reasonable man would not envy such a
death? Who is he that in the vicissitudes of life would not agree to
lea