case a child need only be thrown into
its cradle as soon as it is born, there is no necessity for bestowing the
least care upon it, for if it be irrevocably decreed that it is to live,
it will grow though no food should be given to it. You see that such a
doctrine cannot be maintained; predestination is but a word without
meaning. The Turks themselves, the professors of predestination, are not
convinced of the doctrine, for in that case medicine would not exist in
Turkey, and a man residing in a third floor would not take the trouble of
going down stairs, but would immediately throw himself out of the window.
You see to what a string of absurdities that will lead?"

The following traits are characteristic of the man. In the common
intercourse of life, and his familiar conversation, Napoleon mutilated
the names most familiar to him, even French names; yet this would not
have occurred on any public occasion. He has been heard many times
during his walks to repeat the celebrated speech of Augustus in
Corneille's tragedy, and he has never missed saying, "Take a seat,
Sylla," instead of Cinna. He would frequently create names according to
his fancy, and when he had once adopted them they remained fixed in his
mind, although they were pronounced properly a hundred times a day in his
hearing; but he would have been struck if others had used them as he had
altered them. It was the same thing with respect to orthography; in
general he did not attend to it, yet if the copies which were made
contained any faults of spelling he would have complained of it. One day
Napoleon said to Las Cases, "Your orthography is not correct, is it?"
This question gave occasion to a sarcastic smile from a person who stood
near, who thought it was meant to convey a reproach. The Emperor, who
saw this, continued, "At least I suppose it is not, for a man occupied
with important public business, a minister, for instance, cannot and need
not attend to orthography. His ideas must flow faster than his hand can
trace them, he has only time to dwell upon essentials; he 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 wr