prominent.  The great States are in every case to gain at the expense of their weaker neighbours; Austria is to be appeased; and France is to reap enormous gains ultimately at the expense of smaller Germanic or Italian States.  These facts should clearly be noted.  Napoleon was afterwards deservedly blamed for carrying out these unprincipled methods; but, at the worst, he only developed them from those of the Directors, who, with the cant of Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity on their lips, battened on the plunder of the liberated lands, and cynically proposed to share the spoil of weaker States with the potentates against whom they publicly declaimed as tyrants.

The chief aim of these negotiations, so Clarke was assured, was to convince the Court of Vienna that it would get better terms by treating with France directly and alone, rather than by joining in the negotiations which had recently been opened at Paris by England.  But the Viennese Ministers refused to allow Clarke to proceed to their capital, and appointed Vicenza as the seat of the deliberations.

They were brief.  Through the complex web of civilian intrigue, Bonaparte forthwith thrust the mailed hand of the warrior.  He had little difficulty in proving to Clarke that the situation was materially altered by the battle of Arcola.  The fall of Mantua was now only a matter of weeks.  To allow its provisions to be replenished for the term of the armistice was an act that no successful general could tolerate.  For that fortress the whole campaign had been waged, and three Austrian armies had been hurled back into Tyrol and Friuli.  Was it now to be provisioned, in order that the Directory might barter away the Cispadane Republic?  He speedily convinced Clarke of the fatuity of the Directors’ proposals.  He imbued him with his own contempt for an armistice that would rob the victors of their prize; and, as the Court of Vienna still indulged hopes of success in Italy, Clarke’s negotiations at Vicenza came to a speedy conclusion.

In another important matter the Directory also completely failed.  Nervous as to Bonaparte’s ambition, it had secretly ordered Clarke to watch his conduct and report privately to Paris.  Whether warned by a friend at Court, or forearmed by his own sagacity, Bonaparte knew of this, and in his intercourse with Clarke deftly let the fact be seen.  He quickly gauged Clarke’s powers, and the aim of his mission.  “He is a spy,” he remarked a little later to Miot, “whom the Directory have set upon me:  he is a man of no talent—­only conceited.”  The splendour of his achievements and the mingled grace and authority of his demeanour so imposed on the envoy that he speedily fell under the influence of the very man whom he was to watch, and became his enthusiastic adherent.