but he could not endure to see an old friend, and one who had served him
well in all his campaigns, dying before his eyes, the victim of nostalgia
and romantic love. Besides, Berthier had been for some time past,
anything but active in the discharge of his duties. His passion, which
amounted almost to madness, impaired the feeble faculties with which
nature had endowed him. Some writers have ranked him in the class of
sentimental lovers: be this as it may, the homage which Berthier rendered
to the portrait of the object of his adoration more frequently excited
our merriment than our sensibility.

One day I went with an order from Bonaparte to the chief of his staff,
whom I found on his knees before the portrait of Madame Visconti, which
was hanging opposite the door. I touched him, to let him know I was
there. He grumbled a little, but did not get angry.

The moment was approaching when the two friends were to part, perhaps
forever. Bonaparte was sincerely distressed at this separation, and the
chief of his staff was informed of the fact. At a moment when it was
supposed Berthier was on his way to Alexandria, he presented himself to
the General-in-Chief. "You are, then, decidedly going to Asia?" said
he.--"You know," replied the General, "that all is ready, and I shall set
out in a few days."--"Well, I will not leave you. I voluntarily renounce
all idea of returning to France. I could not endure to forsake you at a
moment when you are going to encounter new dangers. Here are my
instructions and my passport." Bonaparte, highly pleased with this
resolution, embraced Berthier; and the coolness which had been excited by
his request to return home was succeeded by a sincere reconciliation.

Louis Bonaparte, who was suffering from the effects of the voyage, was
still at Alexandria. The General-in-Chief, yielding to the pacific views