ol; that was all."
It is perhaps fair to present, as the other side of the medallion, the
portrait drawn by the friendly hand of Adrienne LeCouvreur. "The charms
of his intellect often veiled its essential qualities. Unique of
his kind, he combines all that wins regard and respect. Integrity,
rectitude, equity compose his character; an imagination lively and
brilliant, turns fine and delicate, expressions new and always
happy ornament it. A heart pure, actions clear, conduct uniform, and
everywhere principles.... Exact in friendship, scrupulous in love;
nowhere failing in the attributes of a gentleman. Suited to intercourse
the most delicate, though the delight of savants; modest in his
conversation, simple in his actions, his superiority is evident, but he
never makes one feel it." He lived a century, apparently because it
was too much trouble to die. When the weight of years made it too much
trouble to live, he simply stopped. "I do not suffer, my friends, but I
feel a certain difficulty in existing," were his last words. With this
model of serene tranquillity, who analyzed the emotions as he would a
problem in mathematics, and reduced life to a debit and credit account,
it is easy to understand the worldly philosophy of the women who came
under his influence.

But while Mme. de Lambert had a calm and equable temperament, and loved
to surround herself with an atmosphere of repose, she was not without
a fine quality of sentiment. "I exhort you much more to cultivate your
heart," she writes to her son, "than to perfect your mind; the true
greatness of the man is in the heart." "She was not only eager to
serve her friends without waiting for their prayers or the humiliating
exposure of their needs," said Fontenelle, "but a good action to be done
in favor of indifferent people always tempted her warmly.... The ill
success of some acts of generosity did not correct the habit; she was
always equally ready to do a kindness." She has written very delicately
and beautifully of friendships between men and women; and she had her
own intimacies that verged upon tenderness, but were free from any
shadow of reproach. Long after her death, d'Alembert, in his academic
eulogy upon de Sacy, refers touchingly to the devoted friendship that
linked this elegant savant with Mme. de Lambert. "It is believed,"
says President Henault, "that she was married to the Marquis de
Sainte-Aulaire. He was a man of esprit, who only bethought himself,