must put words in letters, and phrases in words, and let the scribes make it out afterwards.”  Napoleon indeed left a great deal for the copyists to do; he was their torment; his handwriting actually resembled hieroglyphics—­he often could not decipher it himself.  Las Cases’ son was one day reading to him a chapter of The Campaign of Italy; on a sudden he stopped short, unable to make out the writing.  “The little blockhead,” said Napoleon, “cannot read his own handwriting.”—­“It is not mine, Sire.”—­“And whose, then?”—­“Your Majesty’s.”—­“How so, you little rogue; do you mean to insult me?” The Emperor took the manuscript, tried a long while to read it, and at last threw it down, saying, “He is right; I cannot tell myself what is written.”  He has often sent the copyists to Las Cases to read what he had himself been unable to decipher.

We are now approaching the last melancholy epoch of Napoleon’s life, when he first felt the ravages of that malady which finally put a period to his existence.  Occasional manifestations of its presence had been exhibited for some years, but his usual health always returned after every attack, and its fatal nature was not suspected, although Napoleon himself had several times said that he should die of a scirrhus in the pylorus, the disease which killed his father, and which the physicians of Montpelier declared would be hereditary in his family.  About the middle of the year 1818 it was observed that his health grew gradually worse, and it was thought proper by O’Meara to report to the Governor the state in which he was.  Even on these occasions Napoleon seized the opportunity for renewing his claim to the title of Emperor.  He insisted that the physician should not send any bulletin whatever unless he named him in it by his Imperial designation.  O’Meara explained that the instructions of his Government and the orders of Sir Hudson Lowe prohibited him from using the term; but it was in vain.  After some difficulty it was agreed upon that the word “patient” should be used instead of the title of General, which caused so much offence, and this substitution got rid of the difficulty.

O’Meara afterwards proposed to call in the assistance of Dr. Baxter, the principal medical officer of the island, but this offer Napoleon refused at once, alleging that, although “it was true he looked like an honest man, he was too much attached to that hangman” (Lows), he also persisted in rejecting the aid of medicine, and determined to take no exercise out-of-doors as long as he should be subjected to the challenge of sentinels.  To a representation that his determination might convert a curable to a fatal malady, he replied, “I shall at least have the consolation that my death will be an eternal dishonour to the English nation who sent me to this climate to die under the hands of . . .”