RECOLLECTIONS OF CHATEAUBRIAND IN ENGLAND. 



Landing of M. de Chateaubriand as ambassador. His reception by the ladies 

 of Dover. His opinion of the degeneration of the English people. Visit 

 from the son of M. de Montesquieu. His reception by the corps diploma- 

 tique. English and French soldiers. His opinion of the English aristocracy 

 and democracy. English and French ideas of liberty.- Profession of prin- 

 ciples. On mediocrity of talent. Reasons for choice of residence. His 

 poetic temperament. English and Arabian blood horses Eulogium of the 

 ass. Glory. Buonaparte. Wellington. Pitt. Voltaire. Kensington- 

 gardens. Canning. Literary fund. Annual dinner. Anecdote of the Vis- 

 count and coursing. 



THERE are men who even in their life-time may be said to belong 

 to posterity predestined mortals, who, from their first entrance upon 

 the business of existence,, stand apart from their fellows, and the mi- 

 nute episodes of whose career seem stamped with a distinctive cha- 

 racter. Of such men the Viscount de Chateaubriand is incontestibly 

 one. His memoirs are amongst the few whose perusal leaves a trace 

 behind them : they in some measure redeem the credit of autobiogra- 

 phies in general., and rescue that particular class of literature from 

 the utter damnation of the reading world. We have been deluged 

 with the egotistical tediousness of many worthy personages of both 

 sexes, and of all ranks, grades, and professions. Patricians and ple- 

 beians, soldiers and sailors, old gentlefolks both of the masculine and 

 feminine gender, have shamefully maltreated us in this particular 

 line. Wherefore do we hail, with a feeling of thanksgiving, the 

 advent of something of richer promise. We have at last found a 

 green spot and barren waste, and there would we fain rest our staff. 



M. de Chateaubriand seems to consider that he has played his part 

 on life's eventful stage that he has done with its toils, its cares, its 

 perils, and its passions. Like the traveller who has long struggled 

 to gain some rugged steep, inaccessible to ordinary wayfarers, he 

 feels a pleasure in looking down from his commanding eminence, 

 and contemplating far in the distance beneath him the clouds and 

 storms through which he has passed. His race is run, and to close 

 accounts with the world, he bequeaths to posterity a history of his 

 chequered career a sort of poetic last will and testament, carelessly 

 blending v in one common record, emotions and feelings with facts; 

 the reveries and idealities of genius with the sad and sober realities 

 of life. A favoured few admitted to the intimacy of the noble poet, 

 and enabled to snatch a furtive glance at his precious pages, have re- 

 vealed some passages to public curiosity. But, notwithstanding the 

 undoubted authenticity of the autobiography, to which the illus- 

 trious author daily adds some fresh recollections, we may reasonably 

 entertain doubts on the score of its completeness : we may question if 

 the self-constituted biographer will set down every fact creditable to 

 the man if his pen will or can retrace every thought and feeling all 

 the impassioned and involuntary poetry, which his soul, in the full 



