With respect to the character of Buonaparte, the dissonance is, if possible, still greater.  According to some, he was a wise, humane, magnanimous hero; others paint him as a monster of cruelty, meanness, and perfidy:  some, even of those who are most inveterate against him, speak very highly of his political and military ability:  others place him on the very verge of insanity.  But allowing that all this may be the colouring of party-prejudice, (which surely is allowing a great deal,) there is one point to which such a solution will hardly apply:  if there be anything that can be clearly ascertained in history, one would think it must be the personal courage of a military man; yet here we are as much at a loss as ever; at the very same times, and on the same occasions, he is described by different writers as a man of undaunted intrepidity, and as an absolute poltroon.

What, then, are we to believe?  If we are disposed to credit all that is told us, we must believe in the existence not only of one, but of two or three Buonapartes; if we admit nothing but what is well authenticated, we shall be compelled to doubt of the existence of any.[9]

It appears, then, that those on whose testimony the existence and actions of Buonaparte are generally believed, fail in ALL the most essential points on which the credibility of witnesses depends:  first, we have no assurance that they have access to correct information; secondly, they have an apparent interest in propagating falsehood; and, thirdly, they palpably contradict each other in the most important points.

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Another circumstance which throws additional suspicion on these tales is, that the whig-party, as they are called—­the warm advocates for liberty, and opposers of the encroachments of monarchical power—­have for some time past strenuously espoused the cause and vindicated the character of Buonaparte, who is represented by all as having been, if not a tyrant, at least an absolute despot.  One of the most forward in this cause is a gentleman, who once stood foremost in holding up this very man to public execration—­who first published, and long maintained against popular incredulity, the accounts of his atrocities in Egypt.  Now that such a course should be adopted for party-purposes; by those who are aware that the whole story is a fiction, and the hero of it imaginary, seems not very incredible; but if they believed in the real existence of this despot, I cannot conceive how they could so forsake their principles as to advocate his cause, and eulogize his character.

Besides the many strange and improbable circumstances in the history of Buonaparte that have been already noticed, there are many others, two of which it may be worth while to advert to.