For a long time all negotiations proved abortive.  None of the European powers would acknowledge the new Government, of which Bonaparte was the head; and the battle of Marengo was required before the peace of Amiens could be obtained.

Though the affairs of the new Government afforded abundant occupation to Bonaparte, he yet found leisure to direct attention to the East—­to that land of despotism whence, judging from his subsequent conduct, it might be presumed he derived his first principles of government.  On becoming the head of the State he wished to turn Egypt, which he had conquered as a general, to the advantage of his policy as Consul.  If Bonaparte triumphed over a feeling of dislike in consigning the command of the army to Kleber, it was because he knew Kleber to be more capable than any other of executing the plans he had formed; and Bonaparte was not the man to sacrifice the interests of policy to personal resentment.  It is certainly true that he then put into practice that charming phrase of Moliere’s—­“I pardon you, but you shall pay me for this!”

With respect to all whom he had left in Egypt Bonaparte stood in a very singular situation.  On becoming Chief of the Government he was not only the depositary of all communications made to the Directory; but letters sent to one address were delivered to another, and the First Consul received the complaints made against the General who had so abruptly quitted Egypt.  In almost all the letters that were delivered to us he was the object of serious accusation.  According to some he had not avowed his departure until the very day of his embarkation; and he had deceived everybody by means of false and dissembling proclamations.  Others canvassed his conduct while in Egypt:  the army which had triumphed under his command he had abandoned when reduced to two-thirds of its original force and a prey to all the horrors of sickness and want:  It must be confessed that these complaints and accusations were but too well founded, and one can never cease wondering at the chain of fortunate circumstances which so rapidly raised Bonaparte to the Consular seat.  In the natural order of things, and in fulfilment of the design which he himself had formed, he should have disembarked at Toulon, where the quarantine laws would no doubt have been observed; instead of which, the fear of the English and the uncertainty of the pilots caused him to go to Frejus, where the quarantine laws were violated by the very persons most interested in respecting them.  Let us suppose that Bonaparte had been forced to perform quarantine at Toulon.  What would have ensued?  The charges against him would have fallen into the hands of the Directory, and he would probably have been suspended, and put upon his trial.