While we were conversing on the subject of physiognomy, some one remarked, that Mirabeau, speaking of Pastoret’s face, said: “it is a compound of the tiger and the calf; but the calf predominates.” At this the Emperor laughed heartily, and said it was strictly true.

The Emperor wished to dine alone in his chamber. He sent for me about ten o’clock. He was then better; and he looked over several of the books which lay scattered upon his couch. He began to read Racine’s Alexander, of which he expressed his dislike; and he afterwards took up Andromache, which is one of his favourite pieces.

MARKS OF RESPECT SHEWN TO THE EMPEROR BY THE
ENGLISH SOLDIERS.

28th.—The Emperor went out about two o’clock. The weather was exceedingly pleasant. We took nearly an hour’s drive in the calash. It had been at first proposed that the Emperor should ride on horseback; for his health was suffering from the want of that exercise. But he would not consent to go out on horseback; he said that to ride backward and forward within the limits marked out for him was like being confined in a riding-school, and he could not endure it. However, on our return home, we succeeded in changing his determination. We all attended him, and we reached the summit of that part of Goat Hill which separates the horizon of the town from that of Longwood. On our way back, we passed in front of the English camp; this was the first time we had passed it since our residence at Longwood. The soldiers immediately quitted their various occupations, and eagerly formed themselves in a line as we passed along. “What European soldier,” said the Emperor, “would not be inspired with respect at my approach!” He knew this, and therefore carefully avoided passing the English camp, lest he should be accused of wishing to excite this sentiment. We all very much enjoyed the ride, and returned home about five o’clock. The Emperor was a little fatigued.

For some time past, he has relinquished his regular dictations. He saw some skittles which had been made by the servants for their own amusement. He ordered them to be brought to us, and we played several games with them. The Emperor won a napoleon and a half from me. He made me pay the debt, and then threw the money to the servant who had attended us for the purpose of running after the ball.

CORSICA.—REMARK MADE BY PAOLI.—MAGNANIMOUS CONDUCT OF MADAME MÉRE.—LUCIEN INTENDED TO BE GOVERNOR-GENERAL OF CORSICA.—THE FIRST CONSUL’S COURT.—MADAME DE CHEVREUSE.—THE EMPEROR RECEIVES A LETTER FROM HIS MOTHER.

29th.—For some time past, at our urgent solicitation, the Emperor every evening made a promise that he would ride on horseback early on the following morning; but whenever the appointed hour arrived he invariably changed his determination. This morning, he was in the garden by half-past eight o’clock, and he sent for me. The conversation turned on Corsica, and was maintained for upwards of an hour.

"One’s native country," said he, “is always dear. Even St. Helena may have charms to those who were born here.” To the Emperor, therefore, Corsica presented a thousand attractions. He described the grand scenery of the country, and remarked that islanders always display originality of character, because their situation tends to protect them against invasion, and precludes that perpetual intercourse with foreigners which is experienced in continental states. The inhabitants of mountainous regions, he said, always possess a degree of energy, and a turn of mind peculiar to themselves. He dwelt much on the charms of his native country, which, from his early recollections, was to him superior to any other spot in the world. He thought that the very smell of the earth would enable him to distinguish his native land, even were he conducted blindfold to her shores; there was in it something peculiar, which he had never perceived elsewhere. Corsica was the scene of all his early attachments; he had there passed the happy years of his childhood, freely roaming among the hills and valleys, enjoying the honours and pleasures of hospitality. He traced different lines of family connections, who, he said, extended the spirit of animosity and revenge, even to the seventh degree; and he observed that a young woman in Corsica thought she enhanced the value of her dowry by enumerating the list of her cousins. He recollected with pride that, when only twenty years of age, he had accompanied Paoli on a grand excursion to Porte di Nuovo. Paoli’s retinue was numerous; he was escorted by upwards of 500 of his followers on horseback. Napoleon rode by his side, and, as they went along, Paoli pointed out to him the different positions and the places which had been the scenes of resistance or triumph during the war for Corsican liberty. He related to him all the particulars of that glorious conflict; and, on hearing the remarks and opinions which fell from his young companion, he said, "Oh Napoleon! there is nothing modern in your character! you are formed entirely on Plutarch’s model."

When Paoli manifested his determination to surrender the island to the English, the Bonaparte family continued to head the French party, and had the fatal honour of being the object of a march of the inhabitants of the island, that is to say, they were attacked by a levy in mass: 12 or 15,000 peasants made a descent from the mountains on Ajaccio. The house occupied by Napoleon’s family was pillaged and burnt, and the vines and flocks were destroyed. Madame, surrounded by a few faithful friends, wandered for some time on the sea-shore, and was at length obliged to fly to France. The Bonaparte family had always been much attached to Paoli, and he in his turn had professed particular respect towards Madame. It is, however, but just to remark that he employed persuasion before he resorted to force. “Renounce this opposition,” said he, “it will prove the ruin of yourself, your family, and your fortune; you will bring irreparable misery on yourself.” The Emperor, indeed, affirmed that, but for the chance of the revolution, the family could never have recovered from their misfortunes. Madame, like another Cornelia, heroically replied, “that she, her children, and her relatives would only obey two laws, namely, those of duty and honour. Had old Archdeacon Lucien been living at that time, his heart would have bled at the idea of the danger of his sheep, goats, and cattle, and his prudence would not have failed to allay the storm.”

Madame Bonaparte, the victim of her patriotism and her attachment to France, expected to be received at Marseilles as an emigrant of distinction; but there she scarcely found herself in safety; and, to her astonishment, discovered that the spirit of patriotism existed only among the very lowest classes of the people.