very sparingly,-oranges, peaches, dates, figs, bananas, lemons, and one or two more fruits. You see a few cocoa-nut trees, but they do not bear fruit; but these only are seen in the valleys, the mountains not even having a shrub on them. The climate is very temperate, and they tell us very fine and healthy. The brown canary bird is a native of this island, and has a more beautiful note than the yellow one. The Java sparrow, a most beautiful bird, with a very low note, is also found here. There are also pheasants, partridges, some pigeons, and a number of wild doves, which we are not allowed to shoot yet." St. Helena was touched at by an India ship, on board of which was a gentleman, whose father resides in Edinburgh, to whom he writes, that " Napoleon resides in the country, in a small cottage, with a marquee adjoining, belonging to Mr. Balcombe, a navy agent. Mr. Balcombe's country-house," he says, "is in the same enclosure, about a hundred yards distant; this is the only family on the island which he visits. Mr. Balcombe has two smart young daughters, who talk the French language fluently, and to whom he is very much attached; he styles them his little pages. There is a number of little stories of the innocent freedoms they take, and how highly he is diverted by it. He is occupied during the day in writing the history of his life, and the evening is devoted to walking in the garden with his generals, and his society at Mr. Balcombe's. The only chance strangers have of conversing with him, is by getting an introduction to Mr. B. and stepping in, as if by chance, in the evening. Our captain, and several of our passengers, by this means, have had long conversations with him; he talks upon every subject but those relating to politics, which he seems very desirous to avoid. He behaved with great politeness to the ladies, who have been echoing his praises ever since. I rode up one afternoon, and had the good fortune to arrive as he was taking his afternoon's walk in his garden. We, for I had a companion with me, tied our horses to a tree, and slipt behind a bush, a little way from the walk where he was to pass; he passed several times within a few feet of us; we had a most distinct view of him; he was ac companied by two of his generals, Moutholon and Gorgaud, who remained uncovered. From what I could hear (for, though loud, he talks very thickly), the late events were the subject of their conversation. Davoust's name, I could learn, was mentioned with no high encomiums. He was dressed in a plain blue coat buttoned high over the breast, leaving une belly exposed, which protuberated a good deal, long white waistcoat, nan. keen breeches, and military boots; he had a large star on his left breast. He is a middlesized man, well made, rather corpulent, with a singular though agreeable countenance; light blue eyes, which appeared to me the most striking feature of his countenance, being so expressive and intelligent; there was nothing, however, in his appearance at all indicative of the great qualities he possesses. He is very strictly watched by the admiral; two sloops of war are constantly cruising off the island, the one on the windward and the other on the leeward sides, besides several guard boats; they are fortifying it in every possible direction. He still, however, entertains the idea of being, at no distant period, the emperor of France; he thinks it impossible that the French people can long suffer the Bourbons." A letter from St. Helena describes the behaviour of Napoleon, since his arrival there, with a minuteness and accuracy which render it unquestionably the best communication on this interesting subject.-"The topography of St. Helena," it observes, "must be pretty well known in England by this time. I have only to remark, that the imagination of man could not picture a more hideous aspect than its external front. It is inaccessible towards the south, from a perpendicular face, and an eternal trade wind, which, nine months of the year, would deny shelter to a skiff, in the only little rocky bay in that direction. I rode direction. On the north side, where ships anchor, there are several ravines or cliffs, with the marginal rocks rising perpendicularly one thousand feet; with the exception of a rippling rill of water, and a few watercresses (the only inhabitant of these dreary defiles), the surface is mouldering lavas. One of these ravines, in consequence of its having become the habitation of man, has assumed the name of James's Valley. From the beach onwards, as far as the gully will admit, a row of tolerable houses has been built, principally for the accommodation of passengers on their way to India. The rocks which form the inlet are equally stupendous as the others. The labour of ages has accomplished a path on each side to reach the summit. The interest excited on approaching this frightful island may be better imagined than described. I watched with eager curiosity the look of each individual whose days were consigned to dwindle here. Madame Bertrand, with streaming eyes, begged me to look at it and pity her; she cast her eyes on her husband, then on her children, who were innocently playing on the quarter-deck seeming to say, am I at last destined to this? Napoleon eyed it with fortitude: his look, his manner, spoke it a place more damnable than he bargained for. Anxious as he was to get on shore, he did not quit us for a couple of days; and when he did, I positively saw regret pictured in his face. The last word he uttered happened (from my be ing near him) to be addressed to me: the admiral and captain were at the gangwaybarge in waiting. Napoleon hurried along the quarter-deck, from the cabin, wrapped up in a white great-coat. As he passed, he bowed. My eye, I do think, spoke pity, for it met his, and he hastily asked if I continued on board? It was night before he reached his house in the village. Still there were many spectators whom he was particularly anxious to avoid. At dawn the following day he rode out with sir G. Cockburn, to examine the situation of his future residence. Longwood is distant five miles from the village, and elevated above it two thousand feet-exactly ten degrees difference of temperature from that at the surface of the ocean. The interior of the island is certainly less offensive to the eye than what its exterior would promise. Perhaps, if one would draw a comparison between what the island promises on approaching from the sea, and what is found on taking a ride through the country, one would be tempted to say many spots are beautiful. It has been in this way that the people who have written of St. Helena have judged of it. Napoleon, on his first day's ride (for he has not taken a second), spoke in very unfavourable terms of the place, and said, every description we had given him to read of the island was exaggerated. On descending the mountain, on his return to the village, he stopped at a small house called the Briars, situate on a projecting rock, midway from the summit. Here he requested permission to stop, and from which he has not strayed a hundred yards. since the hour he took possession. Nature and art have done something for this spot. The lava has become soil, and the eye is relieved by a spot of verdure exceeding two acres. There is a garden with fruit-treesa rill of water gurgling by; and Napoleon, with his friend Las Casses, here contrive to pass their solitary time. He is perfectly excluded from the gaze of the public, which was, perhaps, a principal reason for selecting this spot, until the repairs of Longwood were finished. "I must now introduce you to the inhabitants at this same Briars-this half aerial habitation of the fallen Napoleon. Mr. Balcombe, a native of England, long resident in the island of St. Helena, a merchant of the place, and contractor for the navy, is the proprietor of the Briars. He has resided there for many years with his family, consisting of his wife, an intelligent woman, and two daughters, both extremely well educated, and under the age of seventeen. Balcombe's house is so extremely small, that there are. scarcely apartments capable of accommodating his family. He has an out-house, fancifully constructed, on a little eminence overlooking the valley. This Napoleon chose for breakfast room, dining room, and parlour. His camp bed has been conveyed there, from the Northumberland, and there he is contented to ruminate the live-long day, on the awful occurrences of his unexampled career. This apartment of the mighty Napoleon terminates in a little Gothic garret (where, I declare to you, I cannot turn round). There resides the counsellor of state, comte Las Casses, accompanied by his son, a page of the ex-emperor's, aged about sixteen, sharing the couch of his father. I have repeatedly thought it my duty to pay my respects to the fallen emperor since he took up his residence at the Briars, more especially as the visits of strangers are disapproved of by him, and demi-officially forbidden by his excellency, sir George. From the facility with which I gain admittance to his presence, I am disposed to think the attention not unacceptable. From the variety of papers I see scat tered about on his toilette, and the hours which he is closeted with Las Casses (a man of uncommon talent), I am inclined to think he is busied either in drawing up a remonstrance to the British government, or writing a history of his own life. His hours of recreation are generally from twelve till two o'clock. He perambulates the little garden, and is invariably joined by the young ladies, daughters of the proprietor. [The youngest, not fourteen years old, requested one evening to see the likeness of his wife and child, with which he immediately complied.] Both speak French, and I am satisfied they afford him very great consolation. When I last saw him, he was reclining on a sofa, and I thought him more than usually slovenly.However, he had just left the girls, when I learnt he had been very spruce; and when I entered his apartment, he was, without ceremony, clad in his morning gown, without shirt, neckcloth, or breeches. Marshal Bertrand, the countess, general Moutholon, and Gorgaud, inhabit a house in the town, where I daily visit. They are full of trouble. From the habits of life they have been accustomed to, all are inclined to launch into extravagance: however, the admiral is as rigid an economist, and this system of retrenchment appears to give great dissatisfaction. Napoleon takes every thing as he finds it: however, the complaints of his followers have met his ears, and he has solicited permission to provide for them himself. He is unwilling that either the one or the other should in any manner be a burden on the British government, and he is equally hurt that their comforts should, in any shape, be abridged. "The best thing Napoleon can do is to get a wife, Unless influenced by some fair damsel of the island, I fear he will become careless of his person. He asked me one day whether I did not think a wife necessary for a man's health? I presume he means to say," the society of a lady would much contribute to the happiness of man. He has a little abrasion on the fore arm just now; it is attended with considerable inflammation.Think of his application-a little salt dissolved in water, with which he continues to bathe the place. He has his little dinner sent into his bed-room, where he partakes of it, with Las Casses. Frequently, of an evening, he joins Balcombe's family, and with the girls, and perhaps a favourite visitor, he joins in a party of whist, when he tries to revoke or cheat, and when discovered (by the arch youngest lass) he laughs immoderately. The probability of an escape is so absurd, that you would imagine a small degree of relaxation fair. No, no. Napoleon has a captain of the 53d residing in the house with him, and two orderly serjeants, who never permit him to pass the threshold of his hut without accompanying his steps. This he thinks severe, and I was told yesterday, that he had, at last, solicited a favour-to have the two soldiers removed, as their presence had a tendency to remind him of his misfortunes; or, if they were thought indispensable, to clothe them differently. Although I have this from unquestionable authority, I can scarce think Napoleon would condescend so far as to supplicate or complain." A gentleman lately returned from St. Helena, and who was frequently with Napoleon, describes him as in the highest spirits, even to a degree of jollity. He says, that he wants dignity, but fairly rolls and swaggers about the island as if he had made it his own for life. When the gentleman was coming away, and mentioned his destination to another part of the world, the ex-emperor exclaimed, "What, sir, and leave such a fine island as this?" He talked about India, and shewed the most complete and detailed knowledge of its affairs. He knew all the petty princes, their situations, opposite interests, the names of the principal bankers, merchants, &c. in our settle nents. He was as much au fait on the subject as if he had passed his life there. Being asked his opi nion of lord Wellington, he said, "He is a good general, but slow. I should put three hundred thousand men in motion while be was thinking of it." He rides at a prodigious rate, and sets off at full gallop the instant he is mounted, leaving the cavalcade who attend him at a good distance behind. Napoleon did not send a single letter to Europe by the ships arrived from St. Helena, nor would he permit one of his companions to write. So that nothing can be known from themselves of their situation, or their sentiments. Minutes of all Napoleon's political conversations were carefully taken. It seems he spoke with great freedom of the characters and views of all the potentates, as well as of their ministers. In his opinion, the confederacy of the allies was on the point of breaking at the eve of the battle of Waterloo; and if he had gained the ascendant, would have been destroyed in forty-eight hours. One of the last letters received from St. Helena states, that Napoleon is at present most narrowly watched, and, on parole, not to go beyond the limits of the little garden, &c. surrounding the cottage he inhabits. He has always about his person an officer, and at least two or three serjeants. Notwithstand ing all this, he is never heard to complain, but seems perfectly calm and resigned to his fate. He still keeps up his dignity with those about him, and they never approach him covered, nor do they wear their hats in his presence. I remarked, says the writer, the day I dined with the admiral, during our outward-bound passage, that he had a plate of each dish on the table put before him by his servant, and some he partook of; others were removed without his eating any. The same ceremony was observed in handing round the wine; a glass of each sort, on a salver, was occasionally presented, and, if inclined, he drank one; if not, the salver was removed without his speaking. He always preserved a great degree of stateliness. He never asked how he was to be disposed of, and was perfectly passive in every transac tion. - Sir George Cockburn has sent home one of Napoleon's suite. This person had been deported as a domestic, but is supposed to have been a distinguished character under the government of Napoleon. All foreigners in the island, together with their families, were ordered to quit. The inhabitants are not suffered to be out of their houses after dark. The gates of the garrison are shut, and the drawbridge hoisted up at sun-set. No private merchantmen are allowed to anchor; regular Indiamen are only allowed this privilege. If water is required, it is only to be had of the admiral. All intercourse with the ships of foreign nations is rigidly prevented. The imprisonment of Buonaparte in the island of St. Helena was hailed by a great majority of the British people, as the harbinger of lasting peace, as the pledge of national prosperity, and as the signal of relief from all the miseries of war, and military turbulence. After the first emotions, however, of astonishment and exultation had in some degree subsided, it became too evident that the dominion of Buonaparte was not the only cause of our national distress. When the people began to compute the gains of the war, and to enquire into the real advantage and honour obtained by England and her victorious allies, they at last arrived at the certainty, that there is no connection between the accomplishment and success of any system of foreign policy, and the internal prosperity of the country. The political preponderance of England is now at a greater height than it ever before attained, yet it can only be equalled by her individual misery: and we have the mortification of finding that our strenuous, persevering, and glorious exertions, have produced no one political result, either favourable to the cause of general liberty, or to our peculiar interests. The congress of Vienna has violated all its professions; the confederate powers, not contented with waging war against the banners of Napoleon, which might possibly be justified on on the principle of self-defence, imposed an obnoxious government on the French people, and in defiance of their own proclamations, replaced the Bourbons on the throne at the head of innumerable armies. The last coalition was evidently a league of sovereigns and military commanders against the freedom and the rights of nations. Deluded as they have been for many years by the virtuous tone of their numerous declarations, the British people have found at last that they have been wasting their treasure, and expending their bravest blood, for no other purpose than to extend the triumph of unprincipled ambition, over the ruins of liberty. The conduct of the allied sovereigns has been precisely similar to that which, in their repeated manifestoes, they ascribed to Buonaparte; and their British allies, after witnessing the violation of all their magnificent prefessions, found themselves on the brink of a fatal precipice. Our finances are now in a state of confusion and arrear that will never be retrieved, yet had the objects for which we sustained our intolerable and perpetual burthens been in any degree accomplished, we should have sat down to contemplate our own misfortunes in silent gratitude for the deliverance of others. But we have failed in every object that swelled the hearts and opened the purses of the nation. The Bourbons are re-established, not as the fathers of their people, but elevated to the throne on the bayonets of the allies; Spain is subjected to the sway of a cruel and ungrateful tyrant; Poland annexed to an empire already too enormous; and Italy, and the states of Venice, reduced to their former barbarous subservience. If the reader be disposed to ask how this representation accords with the approbation we have formerly expressed of many outlines of ministerial policy, our answer is, that having done so much, they should have done much more; having awakened and supported the energies of Europe to resistance against the military despotism of Buonaparte, they should have watched with vigilance over the abuse of that irresistible power which they had created and supported: they should have demanded distinct pledges for the conduct and intentions of the allies; have stood between the victim and the vanquisher; and to every violation of engagement, or of treaty, have opposed a firm and inflexible attitude. Instead of this, we have participated in all their indiscretions, all their intrigues, and all their examples of bad faith. The people, no longer gratified by the hope of delivering Europe, sensibly feel the privations and distresses to which they are reduced. It is too clearly perceived, that the pressure which we now bear can be borne no longer, and the people begin to question the merit of that system which has terminated in unquestionable evil, counterbalanced by no. adequate good; an evil weighing upon all, and coming home to every apprehension, and to all classes of society. The sacrifices made during the last twenty-five years might, or might not, be necessary, but they have brought us to the verge of a gulf which has swallowed up many other states and nations, and, if not counteracted by a considerable change in every financial and civil arrangement, will prove fatal to our own.Our military glory may indeed exalt our reputation, but it will not prevent our fall; and ruin can only be averted by consulting the liberty, the happiness, and the wishes of the people, in adopting a system of rigid, impartial, and undeviating ECONOMY. CHAP. XVIII.- -1815. State of parties in Paris.-Disturbances in the provinces.-Animosity and cruelty of the Prussian troops.-The muscum despoiled, and its treasures conveyed to the countries from which they were taken.-Note of lord Castlereagh.-Letter of the duke of Wel lington.-Distress of the Parisians.-Persecution of the protestants in France.-Massacre at Nismes.-Death of general La Garde.-Interest excited in England for the French protestants.-Untimely death of Mr. Whitbread, at this critical conjuncture. IT soon appeared that the apparent enthusiasm of the French, on the arrival of Louis, afforded a suspicious proof of their affection and sincerity Many, it is true, welcomed |