e often spoken of you. They understand you, they love and
admire you. They acknowledge your great talent,' though they have long
since bade their adieu to poetry; you know poets are very wayward," he
added, with a sly smile. "You have a happy privilege, my dear sir:
when our age turns prosy, you have but to take your lyre, in the sweet
country of the south, and resuscitate the glory of the Troubadours. They
tell me, that in one of your recent journeys you evoked enthusiastic
applause, and entered many towns carpeted with flowers. Ah, mon Dieu, we
can never do that with our prose!"

"Ah, dear sir," said Jasmin, "you have achieved much more glory than I.
Without mentioning the profound respect with which all France regards
you, posterity and the world will glorify you."

"Glory, indeed," replied Chateaubriand, with a sad smile. "What is that
but a flower that fades and dies; but speak to me of your sweet south;
it is beautiful. I think of it, as of Italy; indeed it sometimes seems
to me better than that glorious country!"

Notwithstanding his triumphant career at Paris, Jasmin often thought
of Agen, and of his friends and relations at home. "Oh, my wife, my
children, my guitar, my workshop, my papillotos, my pleasant Gravier, my
dear good friends, with what pleasure I shall again see you." That was
his frequent remark in his letters to Agen. He was not buoyed up by the
praises he had received. He remained, as usual, perfectly simple in his
thoughts, ways, and habits; and when the month had elapsed, he returned
joyfully to his daily work at Agen.

Jasmin afterwards described the recollections of his visit in his
'Voyage to Paris' (Moun Bouyatage a Paris). It was a happy piece of
poetry; full of recollections of the towns and departments through which
he journeyed, and finally of his arrival in Paris. Then the wonders of
the capital, the crowds in the streets, the soldiers, the palaces, the
statues and columns, the Tuileries where the Emperor had lived.

"I pass, and repass, not a soul I know,
Not one Agenais in this hurrying crowd;
No one salutes or shakes me by the hand."

And yet, he says, what a grand world it is! how tasteful! how
fashionable! There seem to be no poor. They are all ladies and
gentlemen. Each day is a Sabbath; and under the trees the children
play about the fountains. So different from Agen! He then speaks of
his interview with Louis Philippe and the royal family, his recital
of L'Abuglo befor