was sent for one morning. My father was waiting for
me in his cabinet.

"Sir," said he, "you must renounce your follies. Your brother has
obtained for you a commission as ensign in the regiment of Navarre. You
must presently set out for Rennes, and thence to Cambray. Here are a
hundred louis-d'or; take care of them. I am old and ill--I have no long
time to live. Behave like a good man, and never dishonour your name."

He embraced me. I felt the hard and wrinkled face pressed with emotion
against mine. This was my father's last embrace.

The mail courier brought me to my garrison. Having joined the regiment
in the garb of a citizen, twenty-four hours afterwards I assumed that of
a soldier; it appeared as if I had worn it always. I was not fifteen
days in the regiment before I became an officer. I learned with facility
both the exercise and the theory of arms. I passed through the offices
of corporal and sergeant with the approbation of my instructors. My
rooms became the rendezvous of the old captains, as well as of the young
lieutenants.

The same year in which I went through my first training in arms at
Cambray brought news of the death of Frederic II. I am now ambassador to
the nephew of this great king, and write this part of my memoirs in
Berlin. This piece of important public news was succeeded by another,
mournful to me. It was announced to me that my father had been carried
off by an attack of apoplexy.

I lamented M. de Chateaubriand. I remembered neither his severity nor
his weakness. If my father's affection for me partook of the severity of
his character, in reality it was not the less deep. My brother announced
to me that I had already obtained the rank of captain of cavalry, a rank
entitling me to honour and courtesy.

A few days later I set out to be presented at the first court in Europe.
I remember my emotion when I saw the king at Versailles. When the king's
levee was announced, the persons not presented withdrew. I felt an
emotion of vanity; I was not proud of remaining, but I should have felt
humiliated at having to retire. The royal bed-chamber door opened; I saw
the king, according to custom, finishing his toilet. He advanced, on his
way to the chapel, to hear mass. I bowed, Marshal de Duras announcing my
name--"Sire, le Chevalier de Chateaubriand."

The king graciously returned my salutation, and seemed to wish to
address me; but, more embarrassed than I, finding nothing to say to me,
he p