Bonaparte, First Consul of the Republic, to his Majesty the King
of Great Britain and Ireland.
Called by the will of the French nation to the chief magistracy
of the Republic, I think it proper to inform your Majesty
personally of this fact.
Must the war, which for two years has ravaged the four quarters
of the globe, be perpetuated? Is there no means of staying it?
How is it that two nations, the most enlightened of Europe,
more powerful and strong than their own safety and
independence require; how is it that they sacrifice to their
ideas of empty grandeur or bigoted antipathies the welfare
of commerce, eternal prosperity, the happiness of families?
How is it that they do not recognize that peace is the first
of needs and the first of a nation’s glories?
These sentiments cannot be foreign to the heart of a king who
governs a free nation with the sole object of rendering it happy.
Your Majesty will see in this overture my sincere desire to
contribute efficaciously, for the second time, to a general
pacification, by an advance frankly made and free of those
formalities which, necessary perhaps to disguise the dependence
of feeble states, only disclose in powerful nations a mutual
desire to deceive.
France and England can, for a long time yet, by the abuse of
their powers, and to the misery of their people, carry on the
struggle without exhaustion; but, and I dare say it, the fate
of all the civilized nations depends on the conclusion of a
war which involves the universe.
Bonaparte paused. “I think that will do,” said he. “Read it over, Bourrienne.”
Bourrienne read the letter he had just written. After each paragraph the First Consul nodded approvingly; and said: “Go on.”
Before the last words were fairly uttered, he took the letter from Bourrienne’s hands and signed it with a new pen. It was a habit of his never to use the same pen twice. Nothing could be more disagreeable to him than a spot of ink on his fingers.
“That’s good,” said he. “Seal it and put on the address: ‘To Lord Grenville.’”
Bourrienne did as he was told. At the same moment the noise of a carriage was heard entering the courtyard of the Luxembourg. A moment later the door opened and Roland appeared.
“Well?” asked Bonaparte.
“Didn’t I tell you you could have anything you wanted, general?”
“Have you brought your Englishman?”
“I met him in the Place de Buci; and, knowing that you don’t like to wait, I caught him just as he was, and made him get into the carriage. Faith! I thought I should have to drive round to the Rue Mazarine, and get a guard to bring him. He’s in boots and a frock-coat.”