when he tries to write, "is a mass of disconnected and undecipherable
signs;[1211] the words lack one-half of their letters." On reading it
over himself, he cannot tell what it means. At last, he becomes almost
incapable of producing a handwritten letter, while his signature is a
mere scrawl. He accordingly dictates, but so fast that his secretaries
can scarcely keep pace with him: on their first attempt the perspiration
flows freely and they succeed in noting down only the half of what he
says. Bourrienne, de Meneval, and Maret invent a stenography of their
own, for he never repeats any of his phrases; so much the worse for
the pen if it lags behind, and so much the better if a volley of
exclamations or of oaths gives it a chance to catch up.--Never did
speech flow and overflow in such torrents, often without either
discretion or prudence, even when the outburst is neither useful nor
creditable the reason is that both spirit and intellect are charged to
excess subject to this inward pressure the improvisator and polemic,
under full headway,[1212] take the place of the man of business and the
statesman.

"With him," says a good observer,[1213] "talking is a prime necessity,
and, assuredly, among the prerogatives of high rank, he ranks first that
of speaking without interruption."

Even at the Council of State he allows himself to run on, forgetting the
business on hand; he starts off right and left with some digression
or demonstration, some invective or other, for two or three hours at
a stretch,[1214] insisting over and over again, bent on convincing or
prevailing, and ending in demanding of the others if he is not right,
"and, in this case, never failing to find that all have yielded to the
force of his arguments." On reflection, he knows the value of an assent
thus obtained, and, pointing to his chair, he observes:

"It must be admitted that it is easy to be brilliant when one is in that
seat!"

Nevertheless he has enjoyed his intellectual exercise and given way to
his passion, which controls him far more than he controls it.

"My nerves are very irritable," he said of himself, "and when in this
state were my pulse not always regular I should risk going crazy."[1215]

The tension of accumulated impressions is often too great, and it ends
in a physical break-down. Strangely enough in so great a warrior and
with such a statesman, "it is not infrequent, when excited, to see him
shed tears." He who has looked up