My Embassy to Rome--Three kinds of materials-Diary of the road--Letters to Madame Récamier--Leo XII. and the Cardinals--The ambassadors--The old artists and the new artists--Old Roman society--Present manners of Rome--Town and country--Letter to M. Villemain--Letter to Madame Récamier--Explanation concerning the memorandum I am about to quote--Letter to M. le Comte de La Feironnays--Memorandum on Eastern Affairs--Letters to Madame Récamier--Letter to M. Thierry--Dispatch to M. le Comte de La Ferronnays--More letters to Madame Récamier--Dispatch to M. le Comte Portalis--Death of Leo XII.--Dispatch to M. le Comte Portalis--Letter to Madame Récamier. The preceding book, which I have just written in 1839, joins this book of my Roman Embassy, written in 1828 and 1829, ten years ago. My Memoirs, as Memoirs, have gained by the story of Madame Récamier's life: other persons have been brought upon the scene; we have seen Naples under Murat, Rome under Bonaparte, the Pope set free, returning to St. Peter's; unpublished letters of Madame de Staël, Benjamin Constant, Canova, La Harpe, Madame de Genlis, Lucien Bonaparte, Moreau, Bernadotte, Murat are preserved; the narrative of Benjamin Constant shows him in a new light. I have introduced the reader to a little "out-of-the-way canton" of the Empire, while that Empire was accomplishing its universal movement; I now find myself brought to my Roman Embassy. The distraction of a fresh subject will have been a relief from myself: all has been to the reader's advantage. For this book of my Roman Embassy there has been no lack of materials; they are of three kinds: The first contain the story of my innermost sentiments and of my private life, as related in the letters addressed to Madame Récamier. The second set forth my public life: those are my dispatches. The third are a medley of historical details concerning the popes, old Roman society, the changes that have taken place from century to century in that society, and so on. Among these investigations are thoughts and descriptions, the fruit of my rambles. All this has been written in the space of seven months, the time of the duration of my embassy, in the midst of festivities or serious occupations[501]. Nevertheless, my health was impaired. I could not lift up my eyes without feeling dizziness; to admire the sky, I was obliged to place it around me by climbing to the top of a palace or a hill. But I cured the lassitude of the body by means of mental application: the exercise of my thought renewed my physical vigour; what would kill another man gives me life. [Sidenote: My journey to Rome.]