gnation of the Roman embassy in 1829,
which had been secured to him through her instrumentality, he no longer
engaged actively in politics, and, deprived of the stimulus of ambition,
he looked to her for excitement. She encouraged his literary exertions,
drew him out from his fits of depression, and soothed his wounded
self-love. This was no light task; for Chateaubriand's self-complacency
was not of that imperturbable sort which, however intolerable to others,
has at least the merit of keeping its possessor content and tranquil.
With him it partook more of the nature of egotism than of self-conceit,
and it therefore made him always restless and continually dissatisfied.
But no effort was too great for Madame Recamier's devotion. Her friends
looked upon her sacrifices with feelings of mingled regret and
admiration, but she herself was unconscious of them. They were simply a
labor of love; and much as her tranquillity must have been disturbed at
times by the caprices and exactions of this moody, melancholy man, she
was probably happy in being allowed to sacrifice herself. Of the
success of her efforts Sainte-Beuve thus gracefully speaks:--"Madame de
Maintenon was never more ingenious in amusing Louis XIV. than Madame
Recamier in interesting Chateaubriand. 'I have always remarked,' said
Boileau, on returning from Versailles, 'that, when the conversation does
not turn on himself, the King directly gets tired, and is either ready
to yawn or to go away.' Every great poet, when he is growing old, is a
little like Louis XIV. in this respect. Madame Recamier had each day a
thousand pleasant contrivances to excite and flatter him. She assembled
from all quarters friends for him,--new admirers. She chained us all to
the feet of her idol with links of gold."

One of her most successful efforts in amusing him was the reading of
"Les Memoires d'Outre-Tombe" to a select and admiring audience at the
Abbaye. He first read them in private to Madame Recamier, who passed
judgment upon them, and they were then read aloud by M. Charles
Lenormant. This device worked like a charm; everybody applauded, and the
author was content. The personal interest attached to the chief parties
concerned, no doubt, made these readings very delightful. But it would
now be impossible for any reader to be enthusiastic about the Memoirs
themselves. Out of France it would be difficult to find a more
egotistical piece of self-portraiture. Chateaubriand is not quit