hom they loved. Ballanche
compared her to the solitary phoenix, nourished by perfumes, and
living in the purest regions of the air,--

"Who sings to the last his own death-lay,
And in music and perfume dies away."

It is a singular fact, that the men who began by loving her passionately
usually ended by becoming her true friends. Still there were exceptions
to this rule, exceptions which her biographer does not care to dwell
upon, but which the more candid Sainte-Beuve acknowledges, giving as his
authority Madame Recamier, who was fond of talking over the past with
her new friends. "'_C'est une maniere_,' disait-elle, '_de mettre du
passe devant l'amitie_.'" The subtile and piquant critic cannot resist
saying, in regard to these reminiscences, that "_elle se souvenait avec
gout_." Still, pleasant as her recollections were, she often looked back
self-reproachfully upon passages of her youth; and Sainte-Beuve, though
he calls her coquetry "_une coquetterie angelique_," recognizes it as a
blemish. "She, who was so good, brought sorrow to many hearts, not only
to indignant and soured men, but to poor feminine rivals, whom she
sacrificed and wounded without knowing it. It is the dark side of her
life, which she lived to comprehend."

This "dark side" suggests itself. It is impossible to read the record of
Madame Recamier's conquests without thinking of women slighted and
neglected for her sake. The greater number of her admirers were married
men. That their wives did not hate this all-conquering woman is strange
indeed; that they witnessed her triumphs unmoved is scarcely credible.
For, while French society allows great laxity in such matters, and a
domestic husband, as we understand the term, is a rarity, still French
wives, we imagine, differ very little from other women in wishing to be
considered a first object. Public desertion is rarely relished even
where there is no affection to be wounded, for it is not necessary to
love to be jealous. But whatever heart-aches and jealousies were caused
by Madame Recamier's conquests, they do not appear on the surface. In
her voluminous correspondence we find tender letters from husbands side
by side with friendly notes from their wives. Her biographer parades the
latter with some ostentation, as a proof of the friendship these women
entertained for Madame Recamier. That they respected her is evident;
that they loved her is not so apparent. Mere complimentary notes prove