The poor old century had lost us America, whose chief son, General George Washington, died in 1799. In 1799 we were at war with France truly, but England itself had not been menaced—the war was being fought in Egypt. Napoleon had suddenly deserted his army there, and had returned to France post-haste, for affairs were happening in Paris which needed his presence, if his ambitious schemes were ever to ripen and bear fruit. He arrived, dissolved the Council of Five Hundred, and the Triumvirate consisting of himself, Cambacérès, and Le Brun was formed. Then, whether in sober earnest, or as a bit of political by-play, he wrote on Christmas day, 1799, the following message of goodwill and peace: “_Bonaparte, First Consul of the Republic, to His Majesty the King of Great Britain and Ireland._ “Paris, 5 Nivôse, year VIII. of the Republic. “Called by the wishes of the French nation to occupy the first magistracy of the French Republic, I deem it desirable, in entering on its functions, to make a direct communication to your Majesty. “Must the war, which for four years has ravaged every part of the world, be eternal? Are there no means of coming to an understanding? “How can the two most enlightened nations of Europe, more powerful and stronger than is necessary for their safety and independence, sacrifice to the idea of a vain grandeur, the benefits of commerce, of internal prosperity, and domestic happiness? How is it they do not feel that peace is as glorious as necessary? “These sentiments cannot be strangers to the heart of your Majesty, who rules over a free nation, with no other view than to render them happy. “Your Majesty will only see in this overture, my sincere desire to effectually contribute to a general pacification, by a prompt step, free and untrammelled by those forms which, necessary perhaps to disguise the apprehensions of feeble states, only prove, in the case of strong ones, the mutual desire to deceive. “France and England, by abusing their strength, may, for a long time yet, to the misery of all other nations, defer the moment of their absolute exhaustion; but I will venture to say, that the fate of all civilized nations depends on the end of a war which envelopes the whole world. “(_Signed_) BONAPARTE.” Fair as this looks to the eye, British statesmen could not even then, in those early days, implicitly trust Napoleon, without some material guarantee. True, all was not _couleur de rose_ with the French army and navy. The battle of the Nile, and Acre, still were in sore remembrance. Italy had emancipated itself, and Suwarrow had materially crippled the French army. There were 140,000 Austrians hovering on the Rhine border, and the national purse was somewhat flaccid. No doubt it would have been convenient to Napoleon to have patched up a temporary peace in order to recruit—but that would not suit England.