The unpleasant and discreditable disputes, of which we have given some account in the last chapter, form, unhappily, the most marked events of Napoleon's latter life. For the five years and seven months that he remained in the island of St. Helena, few circumstances occurred to vary the melancholy tenor of his existence, excepting those which affected his temper or his health. Of the general causes influencing the former, we have given some account; the latter we shall hereafter allude to. Our present object is a short and general view of his personal and domestic habits while in this melancholy and secluded habitation.

Napoleon's life, until his health began to give way, was of the most regular and monotonous character. Having become a very indifferent sleeper, perhaps from his custom of assigning, during the active part of his life, no precise time for repose, his hours of rising were uncertain, depending upon the rest which he had enjoyed during the earlier part of the night. It followed from this irregularity, that during the day time he occasionally fell asleep, for a few minutes, upon his couch or arm-chair. At times, his favourite valet-de-chambre, Marchand, read to him while in bed until he was composed to rest, the best remedy, perhaps, for that course of "thick-coming fancies," which must so oft have disturbed the repose of one in circumstances so singular and so melancholy. So soon as Napoleon arose from bed, he either began to dictate to one of his generals, (Montholon or Gourgaud generally,) and placed upon record such passages of his remarkable life as he desired to preserve; or, if the weather and his inclination suited, he went out for an hour or two on horseback. He sometimes breakfasted in his own apartment, sometimes with his suite, generally about ten o'clock, and almost always À la fourchette. The fore part of the day he usually devoted to reading, or dictating to one or other of his suite, and about two or three o'clock received such visitors as had permission to wait upon him. An airing in the carriage or on horseback generally succeeded to this species of levee, on which occasions he was attended by all his suite. Their horses, supplied from the Cape of Good Hope, were of a good race and handsome appearance. On returning from his airings, he again resumed the book, or caused his amanuensis take up the pen until dinner-time, which was about eight o'clock at night. He preferred plain food, and eat plentifully, and with an apparent appetite. A very few glasses of claret, scarce amounting to an English pint in all, and chiefly drank during the time of dinner, completed his meal. Sometimes he drank champagne; but his constitutional sobriety was such, that a large glass of that more generous wine immediately brought a degree of colour to his cheek. No man appears to have been in a less degree than Napoleon, subject to the influence of those appetites which man has in common with the lower range of nature. He never took more than two meals a day, and concluded each with a small cup of coffee. After dinner, chess, cards, a volume of light literature, read aloud for the benefit of his suite, or general conversation, in which the ladies of his suite occasionally joined, served to consume the evening till ten or eleven, about which time he retired to his apartment, and went immediately to bed.

We may add to this brief account of Napoleon's domestic habits, that he was very attentive to the duties of the toilet. He usually appeared in the morning in a white night-gown, with loose trousers and stockings joined in one, a chequered red Madras handkerchief round his head, and his shirt-collar open. When dressed, he wore a green uniform, very plainly made, and without ornament, similar to that which, by its simplicity, used to mark the sovereign among the splendid dresses of the Tuileries, white waistcoat, and white or nankeen breeches, with silk stockings, and shoes with gold buckles, a black stock, a triangular cocked hat, of the kind to be seen in all the caricatures, with a very small tri-coloured cockade. He usually wore, when in full dress, the riband and grand cross of the Legion of Honour.[248]

Such were the personal habits of Napoleon, on which there is little for the imagination to dwell, after it has once received the general idea. The circumstance of the large portion of his time employed in dictation, alone interests our curiosity, and makes us anxious to know with what he could have found means to occupy so many pages, and so many hours. The fragments upon military subjects, dictated from time to time to Generals Gourgaud and Montholon, are not voluminous enough to account for the leisure expended in this manner; and even when we add to them the number of pamphlets and works issuing from St. Helena, we shall still find room to suppose either that manuscripts remain which have not yet seen the light, or that Napoleon was a slow composer, and fastidious in the choice of his language. The last conjecture seems most probable, as the French are particularly scrupulous in the punctilios of composition, and Napoleon, emperor as he had been, must have known that he would receive no mercy from the critics upon that particular.

The avowed works themselves, fragments as they are, are extremely interesting in a military point of view; and those in which the campaigns of Italy are described, contain many most invaluable lessons on the art of war. Their political value is by no means so considerable. Gourgaud seems to have formed a true estimation of them, when, in answer to Baron Sturmer's inquiries, whether Napoleon was writing his history, he expressed himself thus:—"He writes disjointed fragments, which he will never finish. When asked why he will not put history in possession of the exact fact, he answers, it is better to leave something to be guessed at than to tell too much. It would also seem, that not considering his extraordinary destinies as entirely accomplished, he is unwilling to detail plans which have not been executed, and which he may one day resume with more success." To these reasons for leaving blanks and imperfections in his proposed history, should be added the danger which a faithful and unreserved narrative must have entailed upon many of the actors in the scenes from which he was lifting the veil. It is no doubt true, that Napoleon seems systematically to have painted his enemies, more especially such as had been once his adherents, in the most odious colours, and particularly in such as seemed likely to render them most obnoxious to the ruling powers; but the same principle induced him to spare his friends, and to afford no handle against them for their past efforts in his favour, and no motive for taking from them the power of rendering him farther service, if they should be in a capacity to do so.

These considerations operated as a check upon the pen of the historian; and it may be truly said, that no man who has written so much of his own life, and that consisting of such singular and important events, has told so little of himself which was not known before from other sources. But the present is not the less valuable; for there is sometimes as much information derived from the silence as from the assertions of him who aspires to be his own biographer; and an apology for, or vindication of, the course of a remarkable life, however partially written, perhaps conveys the most information to the reader, next to that candid confession of faults and errors, which is so very seldom to be obtained in autobiography.

Napoleon's Memoirs, together with the labour apparently bestowed upon his controversial pamphlets written against Sir Hudson Lowe, seem to have furnished the most important part of his occupation whilst at St. Helena, and probably also of his amusement. It was not to be expected that in sickness and calamity he could apply himself to study, even if his youth had furnished him with more stores to work upon. It must be remembered that his whole education had been received at the military school of Brienne, where indeed he displayed a strong taste for the sciences. But the studies of mathematics and algebra were so early connected and carried on with a view to the military purposes in which he employed them, that it may be questioned whether he retained any relish for prosecuting his scientific pursuits in the character of an inquirer into abstract truths. The practical results had been so long his motive, so long his object, that he ceased to enjoy the use of the theoretical means, when there was no siege to be formed, no complicated manoeuvres to be arranged, no great military purpose to be gained by the display of his skill—but when all was to begin and end with the discussion of a problem.

That Napoleon had a natural turn for belles lettres is unquestionable; but his leisure never permitted him to cultivate it, or to refine his taste or judgment on such subjects. The recommendation which, in 1784, described him as fit to be sent to the Military School at Paris, observes, that he is tolerably acquainted with history and geography, but rather deficient in the ornamented branches, and in the Latin language.[249] At seventeen years of age, he joined the regiment of La FÈre, and thus ended all the opportunities afforded him of regular education. He read, however, very extensively; but, like all young persons, with little discrimination, and more to amuse himself than for the purpose of instruction. Before he had arrived at that more advanced period when youths of such talent as his, and especially when gifted with such a powerful memory, usually think of arranging and classifying the information which they have collected during their earlier course of miscellaneous reading, the tumults of Corsica, and subsequently the siege of Toulon, carried him into those scenes of war and business which were his element during the rest of his life, and down to the period we now speak of.

The want of information which we have noticed, he supplied, as most able men do, by the assistance derived from conversing with persons possessing knowledge, and capable of communicating it. No one was ever more dexterous than Napoleon at extracting from individuals the kind of information which each was best qualified to impart; and in many cases, while in the act of doing so, he contrived to conceal his own ignorance, even of that which he was anxiously wishing to know. But although in this manner he might acquire facts and results, it was impossible to make himself master, on such easy terms, of general principles, and the connexion betwixt them and the conclusions which they lead to.

It was no less certain, that though in this manner Napoleon could obtain by discoursing with others the insulated portions of information which he was desirous of acquiring, and though the knowledge so acquired served his immediate purpose in public life, these were not habits which could induce him to resume those lighter subjects of study so interesting and delightful in youth, but which an advanced age is unwilling to undertake, and slow to profit by. He had, therefore, never corrected his taste in the belles lettres, but retained his admiration for Ossian, and other books which had fascinated his early attention. The declamatory tone, redundancy of expression, and exaggerated character of the poetry ascribed to the Celtic bard, suit the taste of very young persons; but Napoleon continued to retain his relish for them to the end of his life; and, in some of his proclamations and bulletins, we can trace the hyperbolical and bombastic expressions which pass upon us in youth for the sublime, but are rejected as taste and reason become refined and improved. There was indeed this apology for Napoleon's lingering fondness for Ossian, that the Italian translation, by Cesarotti, is said to be one of the most beautiful specimens of the Tuscan language. The work was almost constantly beside him.

Historical, philosophical, or moral works, seem more rarely to have been resorted to for the amusement of Longwood. We have, indeed, been informed, that the only books of this description for which Napoleon showed a decided partiality, were those of Machiavel and Montesquieu, which he did not perhaps consider as fit themes of public recitation; Tacitus, who holds the mirror so close to the features of sovereigns, he is said always to have held in aversion, and seldom to have mentioned without terms of censure or dislike. Thus will the patient sometimes loathe the sight of the most wholesome medicine. The French novels of the day were sometimes tried as a resource; but the habits of order and decency which Napoleon observed, rendered their levities and indelicacies unfitted for such society.

There remained another department of literature, from which the party at Longwood derived frequent resources. The drama occupied a considerable part of those readings with which Napoleon used to while away the tedious hours of his imprisonment. This was an indication that he still retained the national taste of France, where few neglect to attend the spectacle, in one form or another, during the space betwixt dinner and the reunion of society in the evening. Next to seeing his ancient favourite Talma, was to Napoleon the reading some of those chef-d'oeuvres to which he had seen and heard him give life and personification. He is himself said to have read with taste and effect, which agrees with the traditions that represent him as having been early attached to theatrical representations.[250] It was in the discussions following these readings, which Las Cases has preserved with so much zeal, that Buonaparte displayed his powers of conversation, and expressed his peculiar habits and opinions.

Corneille[251] and Racine[252] stood much higher in his estimation than Voltaire. There seems a good reason for this. They wrote their immortal works for the meridian of a court, and at the command of the most monarchical of monarchs, Louis XIV. The productions, therefore, contain nothing that can wound the ear of the most sensitive sovereign. In the King of Denmark's phrase, they "have no offence in them."

With Voltaire it is different. The strong and searching spirit, which afterwards caused the French Revolution, was abroad at this time, and though unaware of the extent to which it might lead, the philosopher of Ferney was not the less its proselyte. There were many passages, therefore, in his works, which could not but be instantly applied to the changes and convulsions of the period during which Napoleon had lived, to the despotic character of his government, and to the plans of freedom which had sunk under the influence of his sword. On this account Voltaire, whose compositions recalled painful comparisons and recollections, was no favourite with Napoleon. The Mahomet[253] of that author he particularly disliked, avowing, at the same time, his respect for the Oriental impostor, whom he accused the poet of traducing and misrepresenting. Perhaps he secretly acknowledged a certain degree of resemblance between his own career and that of the youthful camel-driver, who, rising from a mean origin in his native tribe, became at once the conqueror and the legislator of so many nations. Perhaps, too, he remembered his own proclamations while in Egypt, in the assumed character of a Moslem, which he was wont to term by the true phrase of Charlatanerie, but adding, that it was charlatanerie of a high and elevated character.

The character of CÆsar was another which Napoleon always strove to vindicate. The French general could not be indifferent to the Roman leader, who, like himself, having at first risen into notice by his victories over the enemies of the republic, had, also like himself, ended the struggles between the patricians and plebeians of ancient Rome, by reducing both parties equally under his own absolute dominion; who would have proclaimed himself their sovereign, even by the proscribed title of king, had he not been prevented by conspiracy; and who, when he had conquered his country, thought of nothing so much as extending an empire, already much too large, over the distant regions of Scythia and Parthia. The points of personal difference, indeed, were considerable; for neither did Napoleon indulge in the gross debauchery and sensuality imputed to CÆsar, nor can we attribute to him the Roman's powers as an author, or the gentle and forgiving character which distinguished him as a man.

Yet, although Napoleon had something vindictive in his temper, which he sometimes indulged when CÆsar would have scorned to do so, his intercourse with his familiar friends was of a character the most amiable. It is true, indeed, that, determined, as he expressed himself to be Emperor within Longwood and its little demesne, he exacted from his followers the same marks of severe etiquette which distinguished the Court of the Tuileries; yet, in other respects, he permitted them to carry their freedom in disputing his sentiments, or replying to his arguments, almost beyond the bounds of ordinary decorum. He seemed to make a distinction between their duty towards him as subjects, and their privileges as friends. All remained uncovered and standing in his presence, and even the person who played at chess with him sometimes continued for hours without sitting down. But their verbal intercourse of language and sentiments was that of free men, conversing with a superior, indeed, but not with a despot. Captain Maitland mentions a dispute betwixt Napoleon and General Bertrand. The latter had adopted a ridiculous idea that £30,000 a-year, or some such extravagant sum, was spent in maintaining the grounds and establishment at Blenheim. Napoleon's turn for calculation easily detected the improbability. Bertrand insisted upon his assertion, on which Buonaparte said with quickness, "Bah! c'est impossible."—"Oh!" said Bertrand, much offended, "if you are to reply in that manner, there is an end of all argument;" and for some time would not converse with him. Buonaparte, so far from taking umbrage, did all he could to soothe him and restore him to good-humour, which was not very difficult to effect.[254]

But although Napoleon tolerated freedoms of this kind to a considerable extent, yet he still kept in his own hands the royal privilege of starting the topic of conversation, and conducting it as he should think proper; so that, in some respects, it seemed that, having lost all the substantial enjoyment of power, he had become more attached than ever to the observance of its monotonous, wearisome, unprofitable ceremonial. Yet there might be a reason for this, besides the gratification of his own pertinacious temper. The gentlemen who inhabited Longwood had followed him from the purest motives, and there was no reason to suppose that their purpose would waver, or their respect diminish. Still their mutual situation compelled the deposed sovereign, and his late subjects, into such close familiarity, as might perhaps beget, if not contempt, at least an inconvenient degree of freedom betwixt the parties, the very possibility of which he might conceive it as well to exclude by a strict barrier of etiquette.

We return to Napoleon's habits of amusement. Music was not one of the number. Though born an Italian, and possessing something of a musical ear, so far, at least, as was necessary to enable him to hum a song, it was probably entirely without cultivation.[255] He appears to have had none of the fanaticism for music which characterises the Italians; and it is well known that in Italy he put a stop to the cruel methods which had been used in that country to complete their concerts.

Neither was Napoleon, as we have heard Denon reluctantly admit, a judge or an admirer of painting. He had some pretence to understand sculpture; and there was one painting in the Museum, before which he used to pause, terming it his own; nor would he permit it to be ransomed for a very large sum by its proprietor the Duke of Modena.[256] But he valued it, not on account of its merits, though a masterpiece of art, but because he had himself been the means of securing it to the Museum at a great sacrifice. The other paintings in that immense collection, however great their excellence, he seldom paid much attention to. He also shocked admirers of painting by the contempt he showed for the durability of the art. Being informed that a first-rate picture would not last above five or six hundred years, he exclaimed, "Bah! a fine immortality!" Yet by using Denon's advice, and that of other sÇavans, Napoleon sustained a high reputation as an encourager of the arts. His medals have been particularly and deservedly admired.

In respect of personal exercise at St. Helena, he walked occasionally, and while strong, did not shun steep, rough, and dangerous paths. But although there is some game on the island, he did not avail himself of the pleasure of shooting. It does not indeed appear that he was ever much attached to field sports, although, when Emperor, he replaced the hunting establishment upon a scale still more magnificent, as well as better regulated, than formerly. It is supposed he partook of this princely pastime, as it has been called, rather out of a love of magnificent display than any real attachment to the sport. We may here mention, in his own words, the danger in which he was once placed at a boar hunt. The picture will remind the amateur of the pieces of Rubens and Schneider.

"Upon one occasion at Marli," said the Emperor, "at a boar-hunt, I kept my ground with Soult and Berthier against three enormous wild-boars, who charged us up to the bayonet's point. All the hunting party fled: 'twas a complete military rout. We killed the three animals dead; but I had a scratch from mine, and had nigh lost my finger" (on which a deep scar was still visible.) "But the jest was to see the number of men, surrounded with their dogs, concealing themselves behind the three heroes, and crying at top of their throats—'to the Emperor's assistance! save the Emperor! help the Emperor!'—and so forth; but not one coming forward."[257]

While on the subject of Napoleon's exercises, we may mention another danger which he incurred by following an amusement more common in England than in France. He chose at one time to undertake the task of driving a calash, six in hand, which he overturned, and had a severe and dangerous fall. Josephine and others were in the vehicle.[258] The English reader cannot fail to recollect that a similar accident happened to Cromwell, who, because, as the historian says, he could manage three nations, took upon him to suppose that he could drive six fiery horses, of which he had just received a present; and, being as unsuccessful as Napoleon in later days, overturned the carriage, to the great damage of the Secretary Thurlow, whom he had placed inside, and to his own double risk, both from the fall, and from the explosion of a pistol, which he carried privately about his person. Buonaparte's sole observation, after his own accident, was, "I believe every man should confine himself to his own trade."

The chief resource of Napoleon at St. Helena, as we have already said, was society and conversation, and those held chiefly with the gentlemen of his own suite. This need not have been the case, had he been able in the present instance to command that temper which had not failed him under great misfortunes, but seemed now to give way under a series of petty quarrels and mortifications.

The governor and the staff belonging to him were of course excluded from the society of Longwood, by the terms on which Napoleon stood with Sir Hudson Lowe. The officers of the regiments which lay in the island might most probably have afforded some well-informed men, who, having been engaged in the recent war, would have occasionally supplied amusing society to the Emperor and his suite. But they did not in general frequent Longwood. Dr. O'Meara observes, that the governor had exerted his influence to prevent the officers from cultivating the acquaintance of the French; which Sir Hudson Lowe repels as a calumny, confuted by the declarations of the officers of the 53d themselves. But admitting that no intimations were used of set purpose to keep asunder the British officers from the French prisoners, such estrangement naturally followed from the unwillingness of military men to go where they were sure to hear not only their commanding officer for the time, but also their country and its ministers, treated with the grossest expressions of disrespect, while there was no mode of calling the person who used them either to account or to explanation.

The rank and character of Sir Pulteney Malcolm, who commanded the squadron upon the station, set him above the feelings which might influence inferior officers, whether of the army or navy. He visited Napoleon frequently, and was eulogised by him in a description, which (though we, who have the advantage of seeing in the features of Sir Pulteney those of an honoured friend, can vouch for its being just) may have been painted the more willingly, because it gave the artist an opportunity of discharging his spleen, while contrasting the appearance of the admiral with that of the governor, in a manner most unfavourable to the latter. Nevertheless we transcribe it, to prove that Buonaparte could occasionally do justice, and see desert even in a Briton.

"He said he had seen the new admiral. 'Ah! there is a man with a countenance really pleasing, open, frank, and sincere. There is the face of an Englishman. His countenance bespeaks his heart, and I am sure he is a good man: I never yet beheld a man of whom I so immediately formed a good opinion, as of that fine soldier-like old man. He carries his head erect, and speaks out openly and boldly what he thinks, without being afraid to look you in the face at the time. His physiognomy would make every person desirous of a further acquaintance, and render the most suspicious confident in him.'"[259]

Sir Pulteney Malcolm was also much recommended to Napoleon's favourable judgment by the circumstance of having nothing to do with the restraints imposed upon his person, and possessing the power neither of altering or abating any of the restrictions he complained of. He was fortunate, too, in being able, by the calmness of his temper, to turn aside the violent language of Buonaparte, without either granting the justice of his complaints or giving him displeasure by direct contradiction. "Does your Government mean," said Napoleon, one day to the English admiral, "to detain me upon this rock until my death's day?"—"I am sorry to say, sir," answered Sir Pulteney, "that such I apprehend is their purpose."—"Then the term of my life will soon arrive," said Napoleon. "I hope not, sir," answered the admiral; "I hope you will survive to record your great actions, which are so numerous that the task will ensure you a term of long life." Napoleon bowed, and was gratified, probably both as a hero and as an author. Nevertheless, before Sir Pulteney Malcolm left the island, and while he was endeavouring to justify the governor against some of the harsh and extravagant charges in which Napoleon was wont to indulge, the latter began to appeal from his judgment as being too much of an Englishman to be an impartial judge. They parted, however, on the best terms, and Napoleon often afterwards expressed the pleasure which he had received from the society of Sir Pulteney Malcolm.

The colonists of St. Helena did not, it may be well supposed, furnish many individuals, sufficiently qualified, by rank and education, to be admitted into the society of the exile. They, too, lay under the same awkward circumstances, which prevented the British officers from holding intercourse with Longwood and its inhabitants. The governor, should he be displeased at the too frequent attentions of any individual, or should he conceive any suspicion arising out of such an intercourse, had the power, and, in the opinion of the colonists, might not want the inclination, to make his resentment severely felt. Mr. Balcomb, however, who held the situation of purveyor, with one or two other inhabitants of the island, sometimes visited at Longwood. The general intercourse between the French prisoners and the colonists was carried on by means of the French domestics, who had the privilege of visiting James' Town as often as they pleased, and whose doing so could infer no disadvantageous suspicions. But the society of Longwood gained no advantage by the intercourse with James' Town, although unquestionably the facility of foreign communication was considerably increased to the exiles. Their correspondence was chiefly maintained by the way of Bahia; and it is certain they succeeded in sending many letters to Europe, although they are believed to have been less fortunate in receiving answers.

It was to be expected, that some accession to the society of Longwood might have accrued, from the residence of three gentlemen of rank (two of them, we believe, having ladies and a family) the commissioners of Austria, Russia, and France. But here also ceremonial interposed one of those bars, which are effectual, or otherwise, according to the opinion of those betwixt whom they are erected. The commissioners of the allied powers had requested to be presented to Napoleon. On their wish being announced, he peremptorily declined to receive them in their official capacity, disclaiming the right which the princes of Europe had to interfere with and countenance the custody of his person. On the other hand, the commissioners, finding their public function disowned, refused to hold any communication with Longwood in their private capacity; and thus there were excluded from this solitary spot three persons, whose manners and habits, as foreigners, might have assorted tolerably with those of the exile and his attendants.

The society of St. Helena receives a great temporary increase at the seasons when vessels touch there on their way to India, or on their return to Europe. Of course, every officer and every passenger on such occasions was desirous to see a person so celebrated as Napoleon; and there might sometimes occur individuals among them whom he too might have pleasure in receiving. The regulation of these visits to Longwood seems to have been one of the few parts of the general system of which Napoleon made no complaints. He had a natural reluctance to gratify the idle curiosity of strangers, and the regulations protected him effectually against their intrusion. Such persons as desired to wait upon Napoleon were obliged to apply, in the first place, to the governor, by whom their names were transmitted to General Bertrand, as grand marÉchal of the household, who communicated Napoleon's reply, if favourable, and assigned an hour at which he was to receive their visit.

Upon such occasions, Napoleon was particularly anxious that the etiquette of an imperial court should be observed, while the visitors, on the contrary, were strictly enjoined by the governor not to go beyond the civilities due to a general of rank. If, therefore, as sometimes happened, the introduction took place in the open air, the French part of the company attendant on Buonaparte remained uncovered, while the English replaced their hats after the first salutation. Napoleon saw the incongruity of this, and laid his orders on his attendants to imitate the English in this particular point. It is said, that they did not obey without scruples and murmurs.

Those visitors who were permitted to pay their respects at Longwood, were chiefly either persons of distinguished birth, officers of rank in the army and navy, persons of philosophical inquiry (to whom he was very partial,) or travellers from foreign regions, who could repay, by some information, the pleasure which they received from being admitted to the presence of a man so remarkable. Of these interviews, some who enjoyed the benefit of them have published an account; and the memoranda of others we have seen in manuscript. All agree in extolling the extreme good grace, propriety, and appearance of benevolence, with which Napoleon clothed himself whilst holding these levees; and which scarce left the spectators permission to believe that, when surprised by a fit of passion, or when choosing to assume one for the purpose of effect, he could appear the rude, abrupt, and savage despot, which other accounts described him. His questions were uniformly introduced with great tact, so as to put the person interrogated at his ease, by leading to some subject with which he was acquainted, while, at the same time, they induced him to produce any stock of new or curious information which he possessed.

The Journal of Captain Basil Hall of the Royal Navy, well-known by his character both in his profession and in literature, affords a pleasing example of what we have been endeavouring to express, and displays at the same time the powerful extent of Buonaparte's memory. He recognised the name of Captain Hall instantly, from having seen his father, Sir James Hall, Bart. when he was at the Military Academy of Brienne, to which visit Sir James had been led by the love of science, by which he was always distinguished. Buonaparte explained the cause of his recollecting a private individual, after the intervention of such momentous events as he had himself been concerned in. "It is not," he said, "surprising. Your father was the first Englishman that I ever saw; and I have recollected him all my life on that account." He was afterwards minute in his inquiries respecting the Royal Society of Edinburgh, of which Sir James Hall was long President. He then came to the very interesting subject of the newly-discovered island of Loo-Choo; and Captain Hall gives an account of the nature of the interrogations which he underwent, which we will not risk spoiling by an attempt at condensing it.

The conversation proceeded with equal spirit, in which it is singular to remark the acuteness of Napoleon, in seizing upon the most remarkable and interesting facts, notwithstanding the hurry of a casual conversation. The low state of the priesthood in Loo-Choo was a subject which he dwelt on without coming to any satisfactory explanation. Captain Hall illustrated the ignorance of the people of Loo-Choo with respect to all the world, save Japan and China, by saying they knew nothing of Europe at all—knew nothing of France and England—and never had even heard of his Majesty; at which last proof of their absolute seclusion from the world, Napoleon laughed heartily. During the whole interview, Napoleon waited with the utmost patience until his questions were replied to, inquired with earnestness into every subject of interest, and made naturally a most favourable impression on his visitor.

The date of this meeting was 13th August, 1817.

In the above interview, Buonaparte played a natural part. Upon another remarkable occasion, 1st July, 1817, when he received Lord Amherst and the gentlemen composing and attached to the embassy, then returning from China, his behaviour and conversation were of a much more studied, constrained, and empirical character. He had obviously a part to play, a statement to make, and propositions to announce, not certainly with the view that the seed he had sowed might fall into barren ground, but that it might be retained, gathered up, and carried back to Britain, there to take root in public credulity, and bear fruit sevenfold. He rushed at once into a tide of politics, declaring that the Russian ascendency was to be the destruction of Europe; yet, in the same moment, proclaimed the French and English to be the only effective troops deserving notice for their discipline and moral qualities. Presently after, he struck the English out of the field on account of the smallness of the army, and insisted that, by trusting to our military forces, we were endangering our naval ascendency. He then entered upon a favourite topic—the extreme negligence of Lord Castlereagh in failing to stipulate, or rather extort, a commercial treaty from France, and to wring out of Portugal reimbursement of our expenses. He seemed to consider this as sacrificing the interest and welfare of his country, and stated it as such with a confidence which was calculated to impress upon the hearers that he was completely serious in the extravagant doctrines which he announced.

He failed, of course, to make any impression on Lord Amherst, or on Mr. Henry Ellis, third commissioner of the embassy, to whom a large portion of this violent tirade was addressed, and who has permitted us to have the perusal of his private journal, which is much more full on the subject of this interview than the account given in the printed narrative of the embassy which appeared in 1817.[261]

Having stated Lord Castlereagh's supposed errors towards the state, Napoleon was not silent upon his own injuries. It was chiefly in his conversation with Lord Amherst that he dwelt with great bitterness on Sir Hudson Lowe's conduct to him in various respects; but totally failed in producing the conviction which he aimed at. It seemed, on the contrary, to the ambassador and his attendants, that there never, perhaps, was a prisoner of importance upon whose personal liberty fewer actual restraints had been imposed, than on that of the late Sovereign of France. Mr. Ellis, after personal inspection, was induced to regard his complaints concerning provisions and wine as totally undeserving of consideration, and to regret that real or pretended anger should have induced so great a man to countenance such petty misrepresentations. The house at Longwood, considered as a residence for a sovereign, Mr. Ellis allowed to be small and inadequate; but, on the other hand, regarded as the residence of a person of rank living in retirement, being the view taken in England of the prisoner's condition, it was, in his opinion, both convenient and respectable. Reviewing, also, the extent of his limits, Mr. Ellis observes that greater personal liberty, consistent with any pretension to security, could not be granted to an individual supposed to be under any restraint at all. His intercourse with others, he observes, was certainly under immediate surveillance, no one being permitted to enter Longwood, or its domains, without a pass from the governor; but this pass, he affirms, was readily granted, and had never formed any check upon such visitors as Napoleon desired to see. The restraint upon his correspondence is admitted as disagreeable and distressing to his feelings, but is considered as a "necessary consequence of that which he now is, and had formerly been." "Two motives," said Mr. Ellis, "may, I think, be assigned for Buonaparte's unreasonable complaints: The first, and principal, is to keep alive public interest in Europe, but chiefly in England, where he flatters himself that he has a party; and the second, I think, may be traced to the personal character and habits of Buonaparte, who finds an occupation in the petty intrigues by which these complaints are brought forward, and an unworthy gratification in the tracasseries and annoyance which they produce on the spot."

The sagacity of Mr. Ellis was not deceived; for General Gourgaud, among other points of information, mentions the interest which Buonaparte had taken in the interview with the embassy which returned to Britain from China, and conceived that his arguments had made a strong impression upon them. The publication of Mr. Ellis's account of the embassy dispelled that dream, and gave rise to proportional disappointment at St. Helena.

Having now given some account of the general circumstances attending Buonaparte's residence in St. Helena, while he enjoyed a considerable portion of health, of his mode of living, his studies and amusements, and having quoted two remarkable instances of his intercourse with strangers of observation and intelligence, we have to resume, in the next chapter, the melancholy particulars of his decline of health, and the few and unimportant incidents which occurred betwixt the commencement of his sickness and its final termination.