The news of the signature of the preliminaries of peace between England and France, came to put the crown to Bonaparte’s good fortune.  When I learned that England had recognised his power, it seemed to me that I had been wrong in hating it; but circumstances were not long in relieving me from this scruple.  The most remarkable article of these preliminaries was the complete evacuation of Egypt:  that expedition therefore had had no other result than to make Bonaparte talked of.  Several publications written in places beyond the reach of Bonaparte’s power, accuse him of having made Kleber be assassinated in Egypt, because he was jealous of his influence; and I have been assured by persons worthy of credit, that the duel in which General D’Estaing was killed by General Regnier was provoked by a discussion on this point.  It appears to me, however, scarcely credible that Bonaparte should have had the means of arming a Turk against the life of a French general, at a moment when he was far removed from the theatre of the crime.  Nothing ought to be said against him of which there are not proofs; the discovery of a single error of this kind among the most notorious truths would tarnish their lustre.  We must not fight Bonaparte with any of his own weapons.

I delayed my return to Paris to avoid being present at the great fete in honour of the peace.  I know no sensation more painful than these public rejoicings in which the heart refuses to participate.  We feel a sort of contempt for this booby people which comes to celebrate the yoke preparing for it:  these dull victims dancing before the palace of their sacrificer:  this first consul designated the father of the nation which he was about to devour:  this mixture of stupidity on one side, and cunning on the other:  the stale hypocrisy of the courtiers throwing a veil over the arrogance of the master:  all inspired me with an insurmountable disgust.  It was necessary however to constrain one’s feelings, and during these solemnities you were exposed to meet with official congratulations, which at other times it was more easy to avoid.

Bonaparte then proclaimed that peace was the first want of the world:  every day he signed some new treaty, therein resembling the care with which Polyphemus counted the sheep as he drove them into his den.  The United States of America also made peace with France, and sent as their plenipotentiary, a man who did not know a word of French, apparently ignorant that the most complete acquaintance with the language was barely sufficient to penetrate the truth, in a government which knew so well how to conceal it.

The first consul, on the presentation of Mr. Livingston, complimented him, through an interpreter, on the purity of manners in America, and added “the old world is very corrupt;” then turning round to M. de ——­, he repeated twice, “explain to him that the old world is very corrupt:  you know something of it, don’t you?” This was one of the most agreeable speeches he ever addressed in public to this courtier, who was possessed of better taste than his fellows, and wished to preserve some dignity in his manners, although he sacrificed that of the mind to his ambition.