ess grave-stone
surrounded by an iron railing, and shaded by fine willows, planted
probably by the last dependents of the unfortunate prisoner. It is a
melancholy thing to tread this simple grave of him who once shook all
Europe with his name, and here at last closed his too eventful life on a
lonely rock in a distant ocean. The stone bears no inscription, but all
who behold it may imagine one. Posterity alone can pronounce a correct
judgment on the man who so powerfully influenced the destinies of
nations. Honesty may perhaps have been the only quality wanting to have
made him the greatest man of his age.

The invalid filled a common earthen jug with clear delicious water from
a neighbouring spring, and handed it to us with the remark, that
Napoleon, in his walks hither, was accustomed to refresh himself with
cold water from the same vessel. This little valley being the only spot
where he could breathe a wholesome air, and enjoy the country, he often
visited it, and once expressed a wish that he might be buried there.
Little as his wishes were usually attended to, this was fulfilled.

After spending some time in contemplating this remarkable memorial of
the vicissitudes of fortune, we inscribed our names in a book kept for
the purpose, and again mounting our horses, rode to what had formerly
been the abode of the deceased; where, deprived of all power, the
deposed Emperor to the last permitted the voluntary companions of his
exile to address him by the titles of "Sire," and "Your Majesty." On
quitting the garden scenery of the pretty little valley, the country
resumed its dreary and sterile character. A ride of about a German mile
through this inhospitable region, uncheered either by the fragrance of
flowers or the melody of birds, brought us within sight of an
inconsiderable level, or table land, perfectly barren, crowning the
summit of one of the highest hillocks into which this huge rock is
divided. In the centre of the plain, and enveloped in so thick a fog
that it was scarcely perceptible, stood a small unpretending mansion.
"That," said our guide, "is Longwood, late the residence of Napoleon."
We soon reached the house, expecting to find it as left at the death of
its illustrious occupant; with how much interest should we not have
visited it, if nothing had been changed or removed! But the English
authorities had not taken our gratification into their consideration.
The house is divided into two distinct portion