THE ILIAD.—HOMER.
7th.—The Governor came to Longwood about four o’clock, and went over the establishment without asking to see any one. His ill-humour was visibly increased, his manners had become fierce and brutal.
About five o’clock the Emperor sent for me; the Grand Marshal had been with him for some time. When he went away, the Emperor began to talk with me upon literature; and we reviewed almost every epic poem, ancient and modern. When conversing on the Iliad, he took up an edition of Homer, and read aloud several cantos. The Emperor greatly admired the Iliad. “It was,” he said, "like the Books of Moses, the token and the pledge of the age in which it was produced. Homer, in his epic poem, has proved himself a poet, an orator, an historian, a legislator, a geographer, and a theologist. He may be justly called the encyclopedist of the period in which he flourished.”[flourished.”]
The Emperor considered Homer inimitable. Father Hardouin had ventured to question the authenticity of of the Iliad, and to attribute that sacred monument of antiquity to a monk of the tenth century. This the Emperor said was perfect absurdity. He added that he had never been so struck with the beauties of the Iliad as at that very moment; and that the sensations with which it then inspired him fully convinced him of the justice of the universal approbation bestowed on it. One thing which particularly struck him, he observed, was the combination of rudeness of manners with refinement of ideas. Heroes were described killing animals for their food, cooking their meat with their own hands, and yet delivering speeches distinguished for singular eloquence and denoting a high degree of civilization.
The Emperor desired me to stay and dine with him. “Yet,” said he, “you would probably fare better at the table of the household; you will be starved with me.” “Sire,” I replied, “I know that you are ill provided; but I prefer privation shared with you to luxury enjoyed elsewhere.”
During the day, the Emperor was ill with the head-ache, of which some individuals of his suite also complained. I regretted that he was unable to go out, for the weather was very fine. After dinner, the Emperor summoned the whole of his suite into his own chamber, and we remained with him until ten o’clock.
8th.—About five o’clock the Emperor took an airing in the calash. On his return he was visited by several English gentlemen, of whom, according to custom, he asked a multitude of questions. These gentlemen had arrived by the Cornwall: they were proceeding to China, and were expected to touch at St. Helena in the following January on their passage back to Europe.
After dinner one of the suite remarked to the Emperor that his feelings had been painfully excited in the morning when writing out a fair copy of his dictation respecting the battle of Waterloo, to find that the result had depended, as it were, on a hair. The Emperor made no reply, but, turning to Emmanuel, said, in a tone expressing deep emotion: “My son (which was his usual mode of addressing him) go and get Iphigenia in Aulis, it will be a more pleasing subject.” He then read to us that beautiful drama, which he admires exceedingly.