g herself in the happiness
of others. If not a woman of genius, she had extraordinary good sense,
and her advice was seldom wrong. It was this union of sympathy,
kindness, tact, and wisdom which made Madame Recamier's friendship so
highly prized by the greatest men of the age. But she was exclusive; she
did not admit everybody to her salon,--only those whom she loved and
esteemed, generally from the highest social circle. Sympathy cannot
exist except among equals. We associate Paula with Jerome, the Countess
Matilda with Hildebrand, Vittoria Colonna with Michael Angelo, Hannah
More with Dr. Johnson. Friendship is neither patronage nor philanthropy;
and the more exalted the social or political or literary position, the
more rare friendship is and the more beautiful when it shines.

It was the friendships of Madame Recamier with distinguished men and
women which made her famous more than her graces and beauty. She
soothed, encouraged, and fortified the soul of Chateaubriand in his fits
of depression and under political disappointments, always herself
cheerful and full of vivacity,--an angel of consolation and spiritual
radiance. Her beauty at this period was moral rather than physical,
since it revealed the virtues of the heart and the quickness of
spiritual insight. In her earlier days--the object of universal and
unbounded admiration, from her unparalleled charms and fascinations--she
may have coquetted more than can be deemed decorous in a lady of
fashion; but if so, it was vanity and love of admiration which were the
causes. She never appealed to passion; for, as we have said, her own
nature was not passionate. She was satisfied to be worshipped. The love
of admiration is not often allied with that passion which loses
self-control, and buries one in the gulf of mad infatuation. The
mainspring of her early life was to please, and of her later life to
make people happy. A more unselfish woman never lived. Those beauties
who lure to ruin, as did the Sirens, are ever heartless and
selfish,--like Cleopatra and Madame de Pompadour. There is nothing on
this earth more selfish than what foolish and inexperienced people often
mistake for love. There is nothing more radiant and inspiring than the
moral beauty of the soul. The love that this creates is tender,
sympathetic, kind, and benevolent. Nothing could be more unselfish and
beautiful than the love with which Madame Recamier inspired Ballanche,
who had nothing to give and n