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| Feb. fT, 
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NOVELTIES OF FOREIGN LITERATURE. 
The LAST SLX MONTHS of the LIFE of 
NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
APOLEON BONAPARTE was 
endowed with a character of un- 
common grandeur; he imagined there 
were two or three great personages in 
Europe in whom he could place the 
most implicit confidence, and among 
these was the then Prince Regent of 
England. The fallen monarch declar- 
ed: “ the son of George the Third will 
not disinherit himself of the immor- 
tality which I afford him of receiv- 
ing me with generous hospitality.” 
Swayed by this magnanimous sen- 
timent, Napoleon surrendered him- 
self on board the Bellerophon; he 
soon, however, learned that he had 
presumed too much upon the genero- 
sity of his enemies. The English mi- 
nisters preferred the odious title of im- 
placable gaolers to the immortal ho- 
nour of tendering a protecting hand to 
the superb soldier, who only a short 
time ago wore two crowns, made kings 
to tremble, and against whom all the 
“phalanxes of Europe marched in array 
of battle! An exile and irons were 
given to the confiding and unarmed 
warrior, who, for the last twenty-five 
years, fatigued renown itself with the 
noise of his exploits! 
On learning that the policy of the 
sovereigns exiled him on the frightful 
rock of St. Helena, Napoleon expe- 
rienced a sensation, which, although 
immediately repressed, visibly an- 
nounced that this blow had affect- 
ed him in a terrible manner. This 
was naturally to be expected. even had 
he been more impassible than the rock 
he was about to inhabit. 
However, the news of his exile was 
comparatively trifling to the disgust 
and mortification which awaited him 
at St. Helena, governed by a man of 
the character of Sir : 
Although we do not hold with those 
who insist that Napoleon’s death was 
occasioned by some atrocious means, 
et it is natural to think that it might 
ave been in consequence of the phy- 
sical and moral tortures to which he 
was continually a prey. We know that 
his character and his courage were su- 
perior to his great misfortunes, but we 
also know that he was but man, and it 
required more than human fortitude to 
bear up against his accumulated wrongs. 
A few years ago, and under the se- 
renest sky in the universe, he possessed 
kingdoms. palaces, a brilliant court, 
and numerous armies; he reposed on 
the bosom of the daughter of kings ; 
his regards were deliciously turned to- 
wards their beautiful infant, his sole 
heir, whom he loved to idolatry, after 
having more ardently desired him than 
all the treasures of the earth. What 
wealth, what enjoyments, what felicity 
on the head of a single man! History, 
ancient and modern, presents no exam- 
ple of similar prosperity. What was 
left him of this mass of glory and hap- 
piness ? Nothing, absolutely nothing, 
but a few faithful servants, who, not- 
withstanding they afforded him the 
sweetest consolations, yet never could 
succeed in convincing him that happier 
days awaited him in Europe. Tn faet, 
the captive of St. Helena had the fullest 
conviction that death would terminate 
his earthly career on the rock of exile. 
His young consort, his son—his dear 
son whom he idolized—his family, 
some members of which very tenderly 
loved him, that beautiful country, the 
coutinual object of his regrets, those 
ancient companions of glory whom he 
had quitted, but whom he loved more 
than ever ;—the unfortunate Napoleon 
found all these extinct, all were lost 
to him: how many sources of torment 
tu embitter the pain of his exile! Was 
more required in order to plant the 
seeds of death in the heart of Napoleon, 
whatever might be the firmness of his 
character, theamplitude of his courage, 
or the force of his temperament? If 
we add to all these causes, of a nature 
eminently mortal, the homicidal insa- 
lubrity of the climate, and the morti- 
fications which Sir un- 
ceasingly heaped upon his prisoner, 
the world will be constrained to agree 
that he must have been much superior 
to the rest of mankind, so long to resist 
such unheard of sufferings—sufferings 
which he alone could well appreciate. 
According to a letter from Count 
Montholon to the Princess Borghése, 
dated “ Longwood, the 17th March, 
1821,’ Napoleon had, for some years, 
been attacked with a disease of the 
liver, a disease, which at St. Helena is 
endemic and mortal. For more than 
six months this disease made not 
only rapid but alarming progress; from 
the month of June, 1820, until Febru- 
ary, 1821, he had no less than five re- 
Japses, 
