512 De Bourrienne’s Memoirs. [May, 
undress himself, and was never afterwards tempted to favour us with a second 
representation of the masquerade.” 
M. de Bourrienne draws a lively picture of the sufferings of the French 
army in Egypt, and of the general discontent that prevailed amongst the 
troops, almost amounting to open rebellion against the authority of Bo- 
naparte. ‘ Plague, pestilence, and famine” had, it seems, wonderfully 
cooled the warlike ardour of the Republican heroes. Into what extremes 
will not over-excitement plunge the creatures who yet boast that reason 
has stamped them with the image of their Maker, and endowed them 
with the perfection of moral beauty! Those who had followed the des- 
tinies of Napoleon when the meridian brightness of his star was unsul- 
lied by a single cloud—those who had acquired name and opulence 
from the favor of one whose smile was fortune, and whose praise was 
fame—even these bade adieu to the enthusiastic feelings which mocked 
at suffering, while triumph was at hand—which had dared all while the 
perspective of famine and disease was yet in the distance—and which 
now were exchanged for the selfish desire of sacrificing to their hopes 
and their fortunes him to whom they owed hope, fortune, all !—All re- 
gretted their momentary apostacy from the altar of self—all renewed 
their homage to their hideous deity. 
** J will here assert, because it is a truth to which the testimony of thou- 
sands bears incontestable evidence, that from the instant the French army set 
foot on the soil of Egypt, disgust, anxiety, and discontent took undivided pos- 
session of all. From the moment of the arrival of the troops, the bright illu- 
sions of the expedition had faded,—the sad reality alone remained. What 
bitter lamentations have I not heard from Murat, from Lannes, from Berthier, 
from Bessiéres—from all! These incessant, immoderate, and ill-timed com- 
plaints often assumed the aspect of open rebellion against the authority of 
Bonaparte, whom they deeply afflicted, and whom they occasionally betrayed 
into the expression of severe reproach, and the violence of intemperate sallies. 
Proud self-sufficiency of human nature! Stoical insensibility to human suffer- 
ing! Ardent and enthusiastic heroism, that would sacrifice friends, fortune, 
country, to the dreams of ambition, and the glory of the Republic! How low 
were you then fallen! How contemptible then appeared those sublime senti- 
ments that exist but in the fancy of the poet, glowing with the fervour of 
inspiration—or in the reveries of the patriot by his fire-side, encircled with the 
tranquil pleasures of existence, and a stranger to the privations which on a 
foreign and pestilential soil, await the exile from his country and his home! 
Each now thought of France—of his affections—of his pleasures ;—some per~ 
haps—(shall I speak out ?)—of the opera !—All found it impossible to recon-" 
cile themselves to the idea of a separation from home which seemed destined 
to be eternal. 
’ © Bonaparte himself was overwhelmed on learning the terrible catastrophe 
at Aboukir—the burning of our fleet. Spite of the energy of his character, 
how could he have triumphed over the shock inflicted on him by so many dis- 
asters. To the painful sensation caused by the ill-timed complaints and the 
moral discouragement of his companions in arms, was added the reality of a 
vast, positive, and irreparable evil. His perspicacity enabled him to calculate 
at a single glance its fatal consequences. All communication with France 
was cut off. No other chance of return was left, than one from which the 
conqueror of Italy turned with horror—with despair ;—a disgraceful capitula- 
tion with an exasperated foe. No chance was left, (and this blow was to him 
the most terrible of all) no hope remained of preserving his conquest. At the 
very moment too when this disastrous blow was struck, he meditated the pro- 
ject of returning to France for the purpose of demanding reinforcements. Was 
it to be expected that these united considerations—the present replete with 
