argued well
in favour of an absurdity to the man who argued equally well in support
of a reasonable proposition. He always gave out the subjects which were
to be discussed; and they most frequently turned upon questions of
religion, the different kinds of government, and the art of war. One day
he asked whether the planets were inhabited; on another, what was the age
of the world; then he proposed to consider the probability of the
destruction of our globe, either by water or fire; at another time,
the truth or fallacy of presentiments, and the interpretation of dreams.
I remember the circumstance which gave rise to the last proposition was
an allusion to Joseph, of whom he happened to speak, as he did of almost
everything connected with the country to which we were bound, and which
that able administrator had governed. No country came under Bonaparte's
observation without recalling historical recollections to his mind.
On passing the island of Candia his imagination was excited, and he spoke
with enthusiasm of ancient Crete and the Colossus, whose fabulous renown
has surpassed all human glories. He spoke much of the fall of the empire
of the East, which bore so little resemblance to what history has
preserved of those fine countries, so often moistened with the blood of
man. The ingenious fables of mythology likewise occurred to his mind,
and imparted to his language something of a poetical, and, I may say, of
an inspired character. The sight of the kingdom of Minos led him to
reason on the laws best calculated for the government of nations; and the
birthplace of Jupiter suggested to him the necessity of a religion for
the mass of mankind. This animated conversation lasted until the
favourable north winds, which drove the clouds into the valley of the
Nile, caused us to lose sight of the island of Candia.

The musicians on board the Orient sometimes played serenades; but only
between decks, for Bonaparte was not yet sufficiently fond of music to
wish to hear it in his cabin. It may be said that his taste for this art
increased in the direct ratio of his power; and so it was with his taste
for hunting, of which he gave no indication until after his elevation to
the empire; as though he had wished to prove that he possessed within
himself not only the genius of sovereignty for commanding men, but also
the instinct for those aristocratical pleasures, the enjoyment of which
is considered by mankind to be amongst the attribu