His countenance was then immoveable, except a vague smile, which his lips assumed at random, to mislead any one who might wish to observe the external signs of what was passing within.” Mr. Ellis, who afterwards saw him at St. Helena, says that "his elocution was rapid, but clear and forcible, and that both his manner and language surpassed his expectations. The character of his countenance was rather intellectual than commanding, and the chief peculiarity is in the mouth, the upper lip apparently changing in expression with the variety and succession of ideas. I was most struck, he observes, with the unsubdued ease of his behaviour: he could not have been freer from embarrassment and depression in the zenith of his power at the Tuileries.” Some allowance must be made for all this. On viewing the stupendous effects produced by high talents, aided by a fortuitous combination of circumstances, the judgment becomes lost in wonder and admiration. The mortal assumes the God--the most trivial actions are pregnant with fatality-the sports of childhood, and the freaks of youth, are found to have contained the latent seeds of future greatness; and biography becomes enveloped in fable and romance. The same may be said of the external man-the outward mouldwork of Nature: the tenement of clay is found to have been stamped with the sure marks of the profound mind that has displayed itself. We fancy we could have discovered the great Napoleon in the lieutenant of engineers. It is probable, that in all ages, a certain conformation of face and person, has been considered as the indication of intellectual superiority. We naturally yield at first to some such impression, though it may be afterwards altered, or even altogether effaced. But in the present age of scientific research we go much farther. We do not leave unattempted those mysteries of Nature which seem denied to human investigation; we would enter the temple where she works in secret, trace the unrevealed sympathies between soul and matter, and unravel the whole machinery of man. Idle and unprofitable as these researches may be, they are, at all events, not uninteresting or incurious; and it is perhaps consoling, in our utter hopelessness of arriving, at any thing like a knowledge of the internal fabric of our species, to have observed something of a conformity of appearance in all great men, and hence to have gone some way towards establishing certain external indications of the most prominent features of the mind. The conclusions of physiologists upon this subject, if not to be received with perfect confidence, are at least too respectable to be treated with levity; and, judging of Napoleon Bonaparte according to the imaginary standard that has been laid down, he certainly appears to have been cast in the mould of a hero. He was of the stamp of Cæsar, of Alexander, of Mahomet, of Cromwell. · The beautiful head, the ample forehead, the muscular form, the bilious temperament-all indicated strength and loftiness of mind, daring ambition, and inflexibility of purpose; and of him it may be said, in the words of Livy, as applied to Cato Major, "In illo viro tantum robur et corporis et animi fuit, ut quocunque loco natus esset, fortunam sibi facturus videretur." Heroes, from first to last, seem to have been compounded of nearly the same ingredients. The grand requisite, the main-spring of action, appears to be a consciousness of a superiority over other men, and a vehement desire to display that superiority. This display must be variously modified by time and opportunity, and in proportion as it is seconded by good fortune or opposed by difficulties; but under similar circumstances it is probable that it would produce nearly similar effects. Cæsar's expression, "that he would rather be the first man in a village, than the second man in Rome," is in effect but an echo of the sentiment that is uttered by Milton's Satan, when he exclaims: "Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven." So that the same spirit seems necessary to a Cæsar or a Satan-the monarch of the Tuileries, or the demon of Pandemonium. It is the peculiar misfortune of society that we admire those exploits which are rather dazzling than useful, and that a nation should aim at being great, : and splendid rather than being happy. Creatures of education, we imbibe in early youth the spirit of romance and chivalry that which is in fact a necessary evil, is presented under the imposing form of "glorious circumstance;" Homer does more than philosophy and Christianity can undo; and in fine we roam about like mortals in the enchanted abode of the fairies, with unanointed eyes, mistaking for solid gold, for delicious dainties, that which, in reality, is but tinsel, and frippery, and dirt. These conclusions are obvious in our closets, but they come too late to counteract the effects of education; we seldom reduce them to practice, but move along through life in this, as in many other respects, with our conduct one way and our argument the other. Virgil's trumpeter never wants a successor who is equally fortunate in his trade-"Ore ciere viros, martemque accendere cantu," of rousing fools and making slaughter. The writers of the day have been loud in their invectives against Napoleon, for the selfishness and the utter disregard of life which he manifested in common with all lovers of war. Without seeking to extenuate his faults or eulogize his merits, we may observe, that he perhaps endeavoured to elevate himself above the rest of mankind by stifling all feelings which he partook in common with them. He affected to be a man apart from his fellow-creatures, turning the passions of men to the completion of his own purposes, but himself beyond their control. immense army, he reflected that not one of such a multitude would survive a hundred years. And yet we do not find that Xerxes desisted from his idle attempts to enslave Greece. In fact, the kindlier feelings of humanity seem incompatible with such a calling. Where blood is to be poured out as water, and human life is as grass before the sickle, the edge of sensibility must be blunted, and the best feelings of our nature are uptorn. In turning over the pages of history, it will be difficult to assign any place to Napoleon amongst those who are gone, or to say to what class he properly belongs. Though very dissimilar in many respects, some strong features of resemblance may be traced between him and our own Cromwell. Both were of extreme vigour and reach of capacity; of the same bold and enterprising disposition which enabled them to take advantage of the commotions and political disturbances of the times. Both had the "animus vastus," an ambition which knew no bounds—both grasped at that which fortune seemed to have placed far beyond their reach, and both were successful. In Napoleon we discover something of the insolence of prosperity, the intoxication of success which led to the commission of political errors; while Cromwell maintained, throughout his public life, a greater equability of mind, a steadiness of purpose that was not to be diverted either by difficulties, or the security of triumph. If the former was immoderate in prosperity, the latter was less Ac- able to withstand the glooms of despondency. The one displayed a greater versatility of genius: he lived in times when the arts flourished, and he reigned over a lively and ingenious people, who were as interested in the success of an opera as of a campaign :—while Cromwell's was the iron age of England, he was nurtured in fanaticism, and lived amid strife and bloodshed. Their understanding of "the religious" was certainly different, but both availed themselves of the prevailing spirit of the times; it is probable that ароleon would have whined his way into popularity in the days of Charies the cordingly we do not hear that he wept at the bloody field of Borodino, or that he sympathised with the sufferers at Moscow. He looked upon these events with the cold eye of a political calculator, to whom the loss of an army was as an error in his arithmetical process. It would have been in better taste, no doubt, to have deplored the extinction of 300,000 fellow beings in the horrible campaign in Russia, than to have exclaimed, while rubbing his hands over the fire on his way homewards, "this is pleasanter than Moscow." But Xerxes wept when, viewing his ་ First, and that Cromwell would have been a Philosopher in the days of Louis the Sixteenth. Neither of these extraordinary personages exhibited in very early youth any signs of those high endowments which have given them to "everlasting fame* ;" nor did the genius of either seem fitted for the elegant occupations of literature, though Cromwell occasionally indulged himself in barbarous verses, and Napoleon was a reader of Ossian. They might have said with Themistocles, the Athenian, who, being desired to play upon a lute, replied, "that he could not fiddle, but yet he could make a small town a great city." The arts of address and conciliation, which were used with such success by Bonaparte, were not known to Cromwell. Hume says of him, that "he knew how to find out and engage in his interests every man possessed of those talents which any particular employment demanded; that the general behaviour and deportment of this man, who had been raised from a very private station, was such as might befit the greatest monarch; that he maintained a dignity without either affectation or ostentation; and supported with all strangers that high idea with which his great exploits and prodigious fortune had impressed them." In both these men is discoverable that mixture of great and little, that spice of human frailty, with which Nature counterbalances her choicest gifts, and which In happily serves to counteract the evils which might otherwise result to mankind from the perversion of superior talents-from the wantonness of ambition, and the freaks of power. fine, what Lord Clarendon had said of Cromwell may be justly applied to the individual who has been the subject of these remarks. "He was one of those men-quos vituperare ne inimici quidem possunt, nisi ut simul laudent; for he could never have done half that mischief without great parts of courage, industry, and judgment. He must have had a wonderful understanding in the natures and humours of men, and as great a dexterity in applying them, who, from a private and obscure birth (though of good family) without interest or estate, alliance or friendship, could raise himself to such a height, and compound and knead such opposite and contradictory tempers, humours, and interests, into a consistence, that contributed to his designs and their destruction; while himself grew insensibly powerful enough to cut off those by whom he had climbed, in the instant they had projected to demolish their own building. What was said of Cinna may be justly said of him-ausum eum, quæ nemo auderet bonus; perfecisse quæ a nullo nisi fortissimo perfici possent-he attempted those things which no man durst have ventured on, and achieved those in which none but a valiant and great man could have succeeded." B. Cromwell's military talents were not displayed until he was forty-four years old. Bonaparte, before he was twenty-seven, besides shewing his skill at the siege of Toulon, had beaten the Parisian troops, and fought the battles of Montenotte, Millesimo, Dego, Lodi, Lonade, and Castiglione, with an army in want of every necessary, and against experienced enemies. ATHENNEUM VOL. 10. How away; for, having no carriage, and having been separated from my ministerial mentor, I scarcely knew what to do. At last, fiercely cocking my hat on one side, like my namesake Jonathan of wild memory in his boatscene, I sallied bodily out at the great gates, and making my way through the crowd,-who contented themselves with a few good-humoured jokes at the awkwardness with which I wore my court habiliments--I gained the stand of coaches in Cockspur-street, into one of which I vanished from their gaze. a stipend of GOOCL a year!" different is the scene at Carlton Palace, with all its pomp and parade of military attendance, and all the glare and frippery of its coun costume. I went under the protection of our worthy minister, and it was about two o'clock when we found ourselves in the large antiroom of the palace, which was soon thronged with bishops and judges, generals and admirals, doctors and surgeons, lawyers and authors,—all anxious to bask for a moment in the rays of royalty, and catch a smile of condescension from the great man. The mob at a levee is much like other mobs, though perhaps less good-humoured and enter taining. After waiting about an hour on the tiptoe of expectation, the foldingdoors were at length thrown open, and the mass began to move. Inch by inch we fought our way, till at last I got near enough to command a view of the King. He stood, as it were, in a doorway, with the whole of his cabinet ministers drawn up in regular array opposite to him; and the intervening narrow lane, through which two persons could scarcely have passed abreast, just sufficient to let the crowd off. I can compare the scene to nothing so well, as to the getting into the pit of the theatre, on a full night. The lord in waiting who rereives your card, and the King your bow, if one may venture on so homely a comparison,--answered to the check and money takers; the cry of "get your card ready," would have been as appropriate on one occasion, as "get your money ready," on the other; and the press from behind scarcely allowed time for a moment's pause in the royal presence. The business of presentation was begun and concluded in a moment; the King smiled graciously, saying, "How d'ye do, Mr. Kentucky, I am very glad to see you here," and I found myself in the next room before I was well aware that the ceremony had commenced. It was then that a friend who had witnessed the scene, congratulated me upon the gracious reception I had experienced, a fact of which, but for his information, I might have remained in ignorance. The next difficulty was how to get The next day Mr. Rasked me how I was satisfied with my reception, to which I made a suitable reply of acknowledgment. "Why yes, indeed,” said he, "I think you have reason to be satisfied, for I did not think his Majesty said so much to any one else." I find there is a graduated scale of great exactness by which these things are measured with the most minute accuracy. "How d'ye do," is a gracious reception; but "How d'ye do; I am very glad to see you here," is the very acme of condescension and affability. To an American, who feels that he belongs to a country, the government of which is founded in truth and reason alone, such a scene as the levee presents cannot be very inviting. And yet it cannot be denied that the establishment of a court, which its train of attendant nobles, if they are, as they ought to be, the cream of the people, not only uppermost in point of situation, but worthiest in point of quality, is not without its use. It is desirable that there should be a permanent school of manners, such perhaps as a court only can supply, to preserve the standard of politeness and good-breeding from sinking into incivility and rudeness. As long, too, as rank is reverenced by fools, it will be an object with men of sense; and, much as I admire the simple institutions of my own country, I doubt whether Washington was not right, when he said that the founders of our constitution "proceeded on too favourable a view of human nature." When a nation emerges from infancy, there must be prizes for talents, and distinctions for wealth; and whether these consist of the laurel wreaths of the ancient fashion, or the garters and ribands of modern times, is of little importance. But it is indeed important to those who by the practice of England are allowed to inherit honours, to justify the expedience of such a law by endeavouring to deserve them. For if they neglect this, the times are soon approaching, when the people in all countries will "trample coronets under their feet that no longer sparkle with the gems of virtue, and wipe off the armorial bearings from coach-doors, which have nothing to authorise them but the venal nonsense of the Herald's office." June 20.-Excursion in the steamboat to Richmond. This is a delightful trip; and I enjoyed it the more, as it reminded me of the favourite mode of travelling in my own country. It is, indeed, to Mr. Fulton, of New-York, that the world is indebted for the first practical application of the steam-engine to the purpose of navigation; and the nations of Europe are now generally adopting this summary and expeditious mode of surmounting the opposition of currents, and wind, and tide. The Richmond boat, though sufficiently commodious, is as inferior to our American vessels, as the Thames is to the St. Lawrence and Mississippi. For some miles the banks are low and flat, and the scenery tame, though not uninteresting. The villas which meet your eye at every turn, give a variety to the prospect, and present pleasing pictures of the progress of civilization to the highest point of luxurious refinement. There is the same kind of difference between the banks of the Delaware and the Thames, that Johnson has pointed out between the poetry of Dryden and Pope. "The one is a natural field, diversified by the varied exuberance of abundant vegetation,-the other, a velvet lawn, shaven with the scythe and levelled with the roller." The best points of the river are Sion House and Kew; after which you arrive at Richmond. The view of the hill from the river is very beautiful; but the view from the hill is still more rich and magnificent. And yet it was of this very scene that the Frenchman disparagingly observed" Ventrebleu! Otez le bois et la rivière, et c'est peu de chose." July 1.-One topic at present engages all thoughts, and all hands, and all tongues,-for nothing is talked of but the Coronation. All other subjects seem to have lost their interest, and even the funeral knell of the modern Attila has scarcely been heard amidst the clink of hammers, and the clattering of preparation for this splendid pageant. In looking on at this costly magnificence, an American is disposed to console himself, for the absence of such things in his own country, by recollecting the observation of Paine--“ the trappings of a monarchy would defray the whole expense of a republic." Still far be from me that wholesale spirit of censure, which so often induces travellers, upon a slight and superficial survey, to condemn customs and institutions, which have a deep foundation in the character of a people. Indeed it is impossible not to grant, that in government, as in religion, some ceremonial observations are necessary, and it is the duty of those who regulate the respective rituals of each, so to order their form and fashion, that they may really produce their intended effect, in impressing the minds of the spectators with a higher sense of veneration for the substantial part of those institutions to which such forms are appended. Thus, in considering the Coronation, though opinions may differ as to the proper mode and manner of conducting it, yet it is impossible not to allow that in a monarchical country some such ceremony is necessary upon the occasion of a new king. In England, particularly, it is a solemn recognition of the compact between king and people, which was entered into at the æra of the Revolution; by virtue of which the house of Hanover succeeded to the throne of the Stuarts. I am no disciple of that frigid philosophy that would teach us to look unmoved at a spectacle like this, which has something at once gratifying and ennobling in the associations it awakens. The solemn repetition of the same rites, which have been performed in the same place, by so many departed generations, connects the present times with the past, and by its appeal to the imagination, embellishes the realities of life with much of the |