he navy. After
Napoleon's declaration to our ambassador that France was bringing her
forces on active service up to 480,000 men, the above-named increase
of the British forces might well seem a reasonable measure of defence.
Yet it so aroused the spleen of the First Consul that, at a public
reception of ambassadors on March 13th, he thus accosted Lord
Whitworth:

"'So you are determined to go to war.' 'No, First Consul,' I
replied, 'we are too sensible of the advantage of peace.' 'Why,
then, these armaments? Against whom these measures of precaution? I
have not a single ship of the line in the French ports, but if you
wish to arm I will arm also: if you wish to fight, I will fight
also. You may perhaps kill France, but will never intimidate her.'
'We wish,' said I, 'neither the one nor the other. We wish to live
on good terms with her.' 'You must respect treaties then,' replied
he; 'woe to those who do not respect treaties. They shall answer
for it to all Europe.' He was too agitated to make it advisable to
prolong the conversation: I therefore made no answer, and he
retired to his apartment, repeating the last phrase."[249]

This curious scene shows Napoleon in one of his weaker petulant moods:
it left on the embarrassed spectators no impression of outraged
dignity, but rather of the over-weening self-assertion of an autocrat
who could push on hostile preparations, and yet flout the ambassador
of the Power that took reasonable precautions in return. The slight
offered to our ambassador, though hotly resented in Britain, had no
direct effect on the negotiations, as the First Consul soon took the
opportunity of tacitly apologizing for the occurrence; but indirectly
the matter was infinitely important. By that utterance he nailed his
colours to the mast with respect to the British evacuation of Malta.
With his keen insight into the French nature, he knew that "honour" was
its mainspring, and that his political fortunes rested on the
satisfaction of that instinct. He could not now draw back without
affronting the prestige of France and undermining his own position. In
vain did our Government remind him of his admission that "His Majesty
should keep a compensation out of his conquests for the important
acquisitions of territory made by France upon the Continent."[250] That
promise, although official, was secret. Its violation would, at the
worst, only offend the