y convinced that that
landing would take place, and he was not deceived. The Ottoman Porte
had, indeed, been persuaded that the conquest of Egypt was not in her
interest. She preferred enduring a rebel whom she hoped one day to
subdue to supporting a power which, under the specious pretext of
reducing her insurgent beys to obedience, deprived her of one of her
finest provinces, and threatened the rest of the empire.

On his return to Cairo the General-in-Chief had no longer any doubt as to
the course which the Porte intended to adapt. The numerous class of
persons who believed that the Ottoman Porte had consented to our
occupation of Egypt were suddenly undeceived. It, was then asked how we
could, without that consent, have attempted such an enterprise? Nothing,
it was said, could justify the temerity of such an expedition, if it
should produce a rupture between France, the Ottoman empire, and its
allies. However, for the remainder of the year Bonaparte dreaded nothing
except an expedition from Gaza and El-Arish, of which the troops of
Djezzar had already taken possession. This occupation was justly
regarded as a decided act of hostility; war was thus practically
declared. "We must adopt anticipatory measures," thought Napoleon;
"we must destroy this advanced guard of the Ottoman empire, overthrow
the ramparts of Jaffa and Acre, ravage the country, destroy all her
resources, so as to render the passage of an army across the desert
impracticable." Thus was planned the expedition against Syria.

General Berthier, after repeated entreaties, had obtained permission to
return to France. The 'Courageuse' frigate, which was to convey him
home, was fitting out at Alexandria; he had received his instructions,
and was to leave Cairo on the 29th of January, ten days before
Bonaparte's departure for Syria. Bonaparte was sorry to part with him;
but he could not endure to see an old friend, and one who had served him
well in all his campaigns, dying before his eyes, the victim of nostalgia
and romantic love. Besides, Berthier had been for some time past,
anything but active in the discharge of his duties. His passion, which
amounted almost to madness, impaired the feeble faculties with which
nature had endowed him. Some writers have ranked him in the class of
sentimental lovers: be this as it may, the homage which herthier rendered
to the portrait of the object of his adoration more frequently excited
our merriment than our sensibil