opulent towns with clothing-stores on every block, and churches
galore, with their poor-boxes bursting with gold. Soldiers, can you
resist the alluring prospect?"

"Vive l'Empereur!" cried the army, with one voice.

Napoleon frowned.

"Soldiers!" he cried, "Remember this: you are making history;
therefore, pray be accurate. I am not yet Emperor, and you are
guilty of an anachronism of a most embarrassing sort. Some men make
history in a warm room with pen and ink, aided by guide-books and
collections of anecdotes. Leave anachronisms and inaccuracies to
them. For ourselves, we must carve it out with our swords and
cannon; we must rubricate our pages with our gore, and punctuate our
periods with our bayonets. Let it not be said by future ages that we
held our responsibilities lightly and were careless of facts, and to
that end don't refer to me as Emperor until you are more familiar
with dates. When we have finished with Italy I'll take you to the
land where dates grow. Meanwhile, restez tranquille, as they say in
French, and breathe all the air you want. France can afford you that
in unstinted measure."

"Vive Bonaparte!" cried the army, taking the rebuke in good part.

"Now you're shouting," said Napoleon, with a smile. "You're a good
army, and if you stick by me you'll wear diamonds."

"We have forgotten one thing," said Barras a few days later, on the
eve of Napoleon's departure. "We haven't any casus belli."