of women of fashion at that time, and the audacity which is created by universal flattery.  What is even more surprising, her husband did not refuse the request, but wrote to her a letter of so much dignity, tenderness, and affection that her eyes were opened.  “She saw the protector of her youth, whose indulgence had never failed her, growing old, and despoiled of fortune; and to leave him who had been so good to her, even if she did not love him, seemed rightly the height of ingratitude and meanness.”  So the Prince was dismissed, very much to his surprise and chagrin; and some there were who regarded M. Recamier as a very selfish man, to appeal to the feelings and honor of his wife, and thus deprive her of a splendid destiny.  Such were the morals of fashionable people in Europe during the eighteenth century.

Madame Recamier did not meddle with politics, like Madame de Stael and other strong-minded women before and since; but her friendship with a woman whom Napoleon hated so intensely as he did the authoress of “Delphine” and “Germany,” caused her banishment to a distance of forty leagues from Paris,—­one of the customary acts which the great conqueror was not ashamed to commit, and which put his character in a repulsive light.  Nothing was more odious in the character of Napoleon than his disdain of women, and his harsh and severe treatment of those who would not offer incense to him.  Madame de Stael, on learning of the Emperor’s resentment towards her friend, implored her not to continue to visit her, as it would certainly be reported to the Government, and result in her banishment; but Madame Recamier would obey the impulses of friendship in the face of all danger.  And the result was indeed her exile from that city which was so dear to her, as well as to all fashionable women and all gifted men.

In exile this persecuted woman lived in a simple way, first at Chalons and then at Lyons, for her means were now small.  Her companions, however, were great people, as before her banishment and in the days of her prosperity,—­in which fact we see some modification of the heartlessness which so often reigns in fashionable circles.  Madame Recamier never was without friends as well as admirers.  Her amiability, wit, good-nature, and extraordinary fascinations always attracted gifted and accomplished people of the very highest rank.

It was at Lyons that she formed a singular friendship, which lasted for life; and this was with a young man of plebeian origin, the son of a printer, with a face disfigured, and with manners uncouth,—­M.  Ballanche, whose admiration amounted to absolute idolatry, and who demanded no other reward for his devotion than the privilege of worship.  To be permitted to look at her and listen to her was enough for him.  Though ugly in appearance, and with a slow speech, he was well versed in the literature of the day, and his ideas were lofty and refined.