« AnteriorContinuar »
WRITTEN BY HIMSELF.
HENRY COLBURN, PUBLISHER,
GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET.
SOLD ALSO BY CHAPMAN AND HALL, STRAND.
210. m. 440
BY THE FRENCH EDITOR.
We have undertaken to say a few words by way of introduction to this work, having long been desirous to express our sentiments respecting M. de Chateaubriand, one of those great hearts which elevate literature, and cause the humblest of writers to step forward more firmly in the pride of his profession. For these eighteen years, literature has been so compromised by a host of giddy aspirants; to such a degree has it been made matter of boasting and of trade; and so impudently has the reader of the nineteenth century been jeered while being robbed, that we have need to be thankful to that writer who has invariably proved himself the most worthy, without ceasing to be the most renowned.
He stood alone in the age-he was the honest man-he was the great man. His name filled literature, and flooded it with a golden light. The Republic came, and he withdrew, mild and melancholy, hand in hand with those who have 'loved him. His remains were conveyed to Bretagne, agreeably to his last wish, and there is no more to say.
Now go to that silent house in the Rue du Bac, numbered 112; they will show you Chateaubriand's room, Chateaubriand's table, the bed on which he expired.