At this very date， previous to official adulation and the adoption of a recognized type， we see him face to face in two portraits drawn from life， one physical， by a truthful painter， Guérin， and the other moral， by a superior woman， Madame de Sta？l， who to the best European culture added tact and worldly perspicacity. Both portraits agree so perfectly that each seems to interpret and complete the other. "I saw him for the first time，"[33] says Madame de Sta？l， "on his return to France after the treaty of Campo-Formio. After recovering from the first excitement of admiration there succeeded to this a decided sentiment of fear." And yet， "at this time he had no power， for it was even then supposed that the Directory looked upon him with a good deal of suspicion." People regarded him sympathetically， and were even prepossessed in his favor；"thus the fear he inspired was simply due to the singular effect of his person on almost all who approached him. I had met men worthy of respect and had likewise met men of ferocious character； but nothing in the impression which Bonaparte produced on me reminded me of either. I soon found， in the various opportunities I had of meeting him during his stay in Paris， that his character was not to be described in terms commonly employed； he was neither mild nor)violent， nor gentle nor cruel， like certain personages one happens to know. Abeing like him， wholly unlike anybody else， could neither feel nor excite sympathy； he was both more and less than a man； his figure， intellect， and language bore the imprint of a foreign nationality . .
. . far from being reassured on seeing Bonaparte oftener， he intimidated me more and more every day. I had a confused impression that he was not to be influenced by any emotion of sympathy or affection. He regards a human being as a fact， an object， and not as a fellow-creature. He neither hates nor loves， he exists for himself alone； the rest of humanity are so many ciphers. The force of his will consists in the imperturbable calculation of his egoism. He is a skillful player who has the human species for an antagonist， and whom he proposes to checkmate. . . Every time that I heard him talk Iwas struck with his superiority； it bore no resemblance to that of men informed and cultivated through study and social intercourse， such as we find in France and England. His conversation indicated the tact of circumstances， like that of the hunter in pursuit of his prey. His spirit seemed a cold， keen sword-blade， which freezes while it wounds.
I felt a profound irony in his mind， which nothing great or beautiful could escape， not even his own fame， for he despised the nation whose suffrages he sought. . . " - "With him， everything was means or aims； spontaneity， whether for good or for evil， was entirely absent."No law， no ideal and abstract rule， existed for him；"he examined things only with reference to their immediate usefulness； a general principle was repugnant to him， either as so much nonsense or as an enemy."Now， if we contemplate Guérin's portrait，[34] we see a spare body， whose narrow shoulders under the uniform wrinkled by sudden movements， the neck swathed in its high twisted cravat， the temples covered by long， smooth， straight hair， exposing only the mask， the hard features intensified through strong contrasts of light and shade， the cheeks hollow up to the inner angle of the eye， the projecting cheek-bones， the massive， protuberant jaw， the sinuous， mobile lips， pressed together as if attentive， the large， clear eyes， deeply sunk under the broad， arched eyebrows， the fixed， oblique look， as penetrating as a rapier， and the two creases which extend from the base of the nose to the brow， as if in a frown of suppressed anger and determined will.
Add to this the accounts of his contemporaries[35] who saw or heard the curt accent or the sharp， abrupt gesture， the interrogating， imperious， absolute tone of voice， and we comprehend how， the moment they accosted him， they felt the dominating hand which seizes them， presses them down， holds them firmly and never relaxes its grasp.