ging to his senses" refuses admittance, and Sir
Thomas, who has now got his opportunity, evidently has some misgivings
about the loaded pistols that are kept handy in case of an emergency.
The Emperor, in one of his slashing dictated declarations which hit
home with every biting sentence, reminds the Governor again what the
inevitable result will be should indecorous liberty be taken. Sir
Thomas would be made aware of this danger, so contents himself by
knocking at the door and shouting at the top of his voice: "Come out,
Napoleon Bonaparte. We want Napoleon Bonaparte."

This grotesque incident, which is only one of many and worse outrages
that were hatched at Plantation House, reflects a lurid light on the
delirium of antagonism that pervaded the dispositions of some of
England's representatives. The hysterical delight of manufacturing
annoyances was notorious on the island, and Sir Hudson and his
myrmidons shrieked with resentment when dignified defiance was the
only response.

Lowe failed to recognise the important ethical fact that a person who
acts a villainous part can never realise his villainy. So oblivious
was he of this fundamental law that he never ceased to assure the
exiles that he was not only good, but kind. Here is a note that bears
out this self-consciousness: "General Bonaparte cannot be allowed to
traverse the island freely. Had the only question been that of his
safety, a mere commission of the East India Company would have been
sufficient to guard him at St. Helena. He may consider himself
fortunate that my Government has sent a man so kind as myself to guard
him, otherwise he would be put in chains, to teach him how to conduct
himself better."

To this the Emperor answered: "In this case it is obvious that, if the
instructions given to Sir Hudson Lowe by Lords Bathurst and
Castlereagh do not contain an order to kill me, a verbal order must
have been given; for whenever people wish mysteriously to destroy a
man, the first thing they do is to cut him off from all communication
with society, and surround him with the shades of mystery, till,
having accustomed the world to hear nothing said of him, and to forget
him, they can easily torture him or make him disappear."

What a dreadful indictment this is against Bathurst, Castlereagh, and
Lowe, and how difficult to think of these men at the same time as of
Napoleon, whose name had kept the world in awe! Surely their dwarfed
names and those of all t