On his arrival at Marseilles, he hears that war has been declared by France against Austria; for the republican Ministry, which Louis XVI. had recently been compelled to accept, believed that war against an absolute monarch would intensify revolutionary fervour in France and hasten the advent of the Republic.  Their surmises were correct.  Buonaparte, on his arrival at Paris, witnessed the closing scenes of the reign of Louis XVI.  On June 20th he saw the crowd burst into the Tuileries, when for some hours it insulted the king and queen.  Warmly though he had espoused the principles of the Revolution, his patrician blood boiled at the sight of these vulgar outrages, and he exclaimed:  “Why don’t they sweep off four or five hundred of that canaille with cannon?  The rest would then run away fast enough.”  The remark is significant.  If his brain approved the Jacobin creed, his instincts were always with monarchy.  His career was to reconcile his reason with his instincts, and to impose on weary France the curious compromise of a revolutionary Imperialism.

On August 10th, from the window of a shop near the Tuileries, he looked down on the strange events which dealt the coup de grace to the dying monarchy.  Again the chieftain within him sided against the vulture rabble and with the well-meaning monarch who kept his troops to a tame defensive.  “If Louis XVI.” (so wrote Buonaparte to his brother Joseph) “had mounted his horse, the victory would have been his—­so I judge from the spirit which prevailed in the morning.”  When all was over, when Louis sheathed his sword and went for shelter to the National Assembly, when the fierce Marseillais were slaughtering the Swiss Guards and bodyguards of the king, Buonaparte dashed forward to save one of these unfortunates from a southern sabre.  “Southern comrade, let us save this poor wretch.—­Are you of the south?—­Yes.—­Well, we will save him.”

Altogether, what a time of disillusionment this was to the young officer.  What depths of cruelty and obscenity it revealed in the Parisian rabble.  What folly to treat them with the Christian forbearance shown by Louis XVI.  How much more suitable was grapeshot than the beatitudes.  The lesson was stored up for future use at a somewhat similar crisis on this very spot.

During the few days when victorious Paris left Louis with the sham title of king, Buonaparte received his captain’s commission, which was signed for the king by Servan, the War Minister.  Thus did the revolutionary Government pass over his double breach of military discipline at Ajaccio.  The revolutionary motto, “La carriere ouverte aux talents,” was never more conspicuously illustrated than in the facile condoning of his offences and in this rapid promotion.  It was indeed a time fraught with vast possibilities for all republican or Jacobinical officers.  Their monarchist colleagues were streaming over the frontiers to join the Austrian and Prussian