weight of her navy into the scale of the world, and to exercise the
influence of her gold in all the Cabinets of Europe. Peace must be
broken; since it was evident that England was determined to break it.
Why not anticipate her? Why allow her to have all the advantages of the
first step? We must astonish Europe! We must thwart the policy of the
Continent! We must strike a great and unexpected blow. Thus reasoned
the First Consul, and every one may judge whether his actions agreed with
his sentiments.

The conduct of England too well justified the foresight of Bonaparte's
policy; or rather England, by neglecting to execute her treaties, played
into Bonaparte's hand, favoured his love for war, and justified the
prompt declaration of hostilities in the eyes of the French nation, whom
he wished to persuade that if peace were broken it would be against his
wishes. England was already at work with the powerful machinery of her
subsidies, and the veil beneath which she attempted to conceal her
negotiations was still sufficiently transparent for the lynx eye of the
First Consul. It was in the midst of peace that all those plots were
hatched, while millions who had no knowledge of their existence were
securely looking forward to uninterrupted repose.

Since the Revolution Paris had never presented such a spectacle as during
the winter of 1802-3. At that time the concourse of foreigners in the
French capital was immense. Everything wore the appearance of
satisfaction, and the external signs of public prosperity. The visible
regeneration in French society exceedingly annoyed the British Ministry.
The English who flocked to the Continent discovered France to be very
different from what she was described to be by the English papers. This
caused serious alarm on the other side of the Channel, and the English
Government endeavoured by unjust complaints to divert attention from just
dissatisfaction, which its own secret intrigues excited. The King of
England sent a message to Parliament, in which he spoke of armaments
preparing in the ports of France, and of the necessity of adopting
precautions against meditated aggressions. This instance of bad faith
highly irritated the First Consul, who one day, in a fit of displeasure,
thus addressed Lord Whitworth in the salon, where all the foreign
Ambassadors were assembled:

"What is the meaning of this? Are you then tired of peace? Must Europe
again be deluged with blood? Preparations for