It is hard to conceive of a more brilliant career, or of one more calculated from its singularity to give rise to contradictory impressions.  This natural perplexity is much increased by the character of Madame Recamier’s memoirs, published in 1859, ten years after her death.  They are from the pen of Madame Lenormant, the niece of Monsieur Recamier, and the adopted daughter of his wife.  To her Madame Recamier bequeathed her papers, with the request that she should write the narrative of her life.  Madame Lenormant had a delicate and difficult task to execute.  The life she was to portray was strictly a social one.  It was closely interwoven with the lives of other persons still living or lately dead.  She owed heavy obligations to both.  It is, therefore, not surprising, if her narrative is at times broken and obscure, and she a too partial biographer.  Not that Madame Lenormant can be called untrustworthy.  She cannot be accused of misrepresenting facts, but she does what is almost as bad,—­she partially states them.  Her vague allusions and half-and-half statements excite curiosity without gratifying it.  We also crave to know more than she tells us of the heart-history of this woman who so captivated the world,—­to see her sometimes in the silence of solitude, alone with her own thoughts,—­to gain an insight into the inner, that we may more perfectly comprehend the outward life which so perplexes and confounds.  Instead of all this, we have drawing-room interviews with the object of our interest.  We see her chiefly as she appeared in society.  We have to be content with what others say of her, in lieu of what she might say for herself.  We hear of her conquests, her social triumphs, we listen to panegyrics, but are seldom admitted behind the scenes to judge for ourselves of what is gold and what is tinsel.  We, moreover, seek in vain for those unconscious revelations so precious in divining character.  The few letters of Madame Recamier that are published have little or no significance.  She was not fond of writing, still she corresponded regularly with several of her friends; but her correspondence, it seems, has not been obtained by her biographer.  The best insight we get, therefore, into the emotional part of her nature is from indirect allusions in letters addressed to her, and from conclusions drawn from her course of conduct in particular cases.  Some of the incidents of her life are so dramatic, that, if fully and faithfully told, they would of themselves reveal the true character of the woman, but as it is we have but little help from them.  It is impossible to resist the conviction that Madame Lenormant would not hesitate to suppress any circumstances that might cast a shadow on the memory of her aunt.  It is true that she occasionally relates facts tending to injure Madame Recamier, but it is plain to be seen that she herself is totally unconscious of the nature and tendency of these disclosures.  Upon the publication of her book, these indiscretions