narchy--he reluctantly gave in his
adhesion to the _de facto_ government of Napoleon; but the execution of
the duc d'Enghien outraged him profoundly, and sending back to Napoleon
his commission as foreign minister, he abjured him for ever. Napoleon
probably regretted the fact seriously. "Chateaubriand," said the
emperor, "has received from Nature the sacred fire: his works attest it.
His style is that of a prophet, and all that is grand and national
appertains to his genius."

It would be out of place in the brief sketch here given to trace his
long and adventurous career. By turns author, minister, ambassador,
soldier, he saw, like his famous contemporary and associate, Talleyrand,
revolution after revolution, dynasty after dynasty, Bonapartist,
Bourbon and Orleanist, pass before him; and having in this long career
enjoyed or suffered all the splendors and all the woes of life--now at
the height of wealth and power, now a penniless and homeless
wanderer--he came at the age of eighty, in 1848, to Paris to die, in
wellnigh abject poverty.

Among the personal delineations of this celebrated man, the most
characteristic and entertaining perhaps are those presented by Victor
Hugo and Alexander Dumas in their respective memoirs. Chateaubriand is
there shown in undress, and the portrait drawn of him is vivid and
interesting. Victor Hugo describes him as he appeared in 1819 at his
fine hotel in Paris, wealthy, influential and renowned. The author-to-be
of _Les Miserables_ was then a mere youth, and his budding glories as an
ultra-royalist poet conferred upon him the honor of an introduction to
the great man. Hugo was ushered in, and saw before him, leaning in a
stately attitude against the mantelpiece, the illustrious individual. M.
de Chateaubriand, says Hugo, affected the bearing of a soldier: the man
of the pen remembered the man of the sword. His neck was encircled by a
black cravat, which hid the collar of his shirt: a black frockcoat,
buttoned to the top, encased his small, bent body. The fine part about
him was his head--out of proportion with his figure, but grave and
noble. The nose was firm and imperious in outline, the eye proud, the
smile charming; but this smile was a sudden flash, the mouth quickly
resuming its severe and haughty expression.

"Monsieur Hugo," said Chateaubriand without moving, "I am delighted to
see you. I have read your verses on La Vendee and the death of the duc
de Berri; and there are thin