The question arises: If Balzac burned in 1847 "all the letters he had received from Madame Hanska," how could de Lovenjoul publish in 1896 two letters that he alleged to be from her, dated in 1832 and 1833?

The Princess Radziwill who is the niece of Madame Honore de Balzac and was reared by her in the house of Balzac in the rue Fortunee, has been both gracious and generous to the present writer in giving her much valuable information that could not have been obtained elsewhere. In answer to the above question, she states:

"Balzac said that he burned my aunt's letters in order to reassure her one day when she had reasons to fear they would fall into other hands than those to whom they belonged. After his death, my aunt found them all, and I am sorry to say that it was she who burned them, and that I was present at this autodafe, and remember to this day my horror and indignation. But my aunt as well as my father had a horror of leaving letters after them, and strange to say, they were right in fearing to leave them because in both cases, papers had a fate they would not have liked them to have."

The sketch of the family of Madame Honore de Balzac as given in Un Roman d'Amour, is so inaccurate that the Princess Radziwill has very kindly made the following corrections of it for the present writer:

"(1) Madame Hanska was really born on December 24th, not 25th, 1801. You will find the date on her grave which is under the same monument as that of Balzac, in Pere Lachaise in Paris. I am absolutely sure of the day, because my father was also born on Christmas Eve, and there were always great family rejoicings on that occasion. You know that the Roman Catholic church celebrates on the 24th of December the fete of Adam and Eve, and it is because they were born on that day that my father and his sister were called Adam and Eve. I am also quite sure that the year of my aunt's birth was 1801, and my father's 1803, and should be very much surprised if my memory served me false in that respect. But I repeat it, the exact dates are inscribed on my aunt's grave. . . . I looked up since I saw you a prayer book which I possess in which the dates of birth are consigned, and thus found 1801, and I think it is the correct one, but at all events I repeat it once more, the exact date is engraved on her monument.

"(2) Caroline Rzewuska, my aunt's eldest sister, and the eldest of the whole family, is the Madame Cherkowitsch of Balzac's letters, and not Shikoff, as the family sketch says. It is equally ridiculous to say that some people aver she was married four times, and had General Witte for a husband; but Witte was a great admirer of hers at the time she was Mme. Sobanska. There is also a detail connected with her which is very little known, and that is that she nearly married Sainte-Beauve, and that the marriage was broken off a few days before the one fixed for it to take place. That was before she married Jules Lacroix, and wicked people say that it was partly disappointment at having been unable to become the wife of the great critic, which made her accept the former.

"(3) My aunt Pauline was married to a Serbian banker settled in Odessa, a very rich man called Jean Riznitsch, but he was neither a General nor a Baron. Her second daughter, Alexandrine, married Mr. Ciechanowiecki who also never could boast of a title, and whose father had never been Minister de l'Interieur en Pologne.

"(4) My aunt Eve was neither married in 1818 nor in 1822 to Mr. Hanski, but in 1820. It was not because of revers de fortune that she was married to him, but it was the custom in Polish noble families to try to settle girls as richly as possible. Later on, my grandfather lost a great deal of money, but this circumstance, which occurred after my aunt's marriage, had nothing to do with it. My grandfather,—this by the way,—was a very remarkable man, a personal friend of Voltaire. You will find interesting details about him in an amusing book published by Ernest Daudet, called La Correspondence du Comte Valentin Esterhazy, in the first volume, where among other things is described the birth of my aunt Helene, whose personality interests you so much, a birth which nearly killed her mother. Besides Helene, my grandparents had still another daughter who also died unmarried, at seventeen years of age, and who, judging by her picture, must have been a wonder of beauty; also a son Stanislas, who was killed accidentally by a fall from his horse in 1826.

"(5) My uncle Ernest was not the second son of his parents, but the youngest in the whole family."

It is interesting to note that Balzac wished to have his works advertised in newspapers circulating in foreign countries and wrote his publisher to advertise in the Gazette and the Quotidienne, as they were the only papers admitted into Russia, Italy, etc. He repeated this request some months later, by which time he not only knew that l'Etrangere read the Quotidienne, but he had become interested in her.

As has been mentioned, it is a strange coincidence that this first letter from l'Etrangere arrived on the very day that the novelist wrote accepting the invitation of the Duchesse de Castries. Balzac doubtless little dreamed that this was the beginning of a correspondence which was destined to change the whole current of his life.

Many versions have been given as to what this letter contained, some saying that Madame Hanska had been reading the Peau de Chagrin, others, the Physiologie du Mariage, and others, the Maison du Chat-qui-pelote, but if the letter no longer exists how is one to prove what it contained? Yet it must have impressed Balzac, for he wanted to dedicate to her the fourth volume of the Scenes de la Vie privee in placing her seal and "Diis ignotis 28 fevrier 1832" at the head of l'Expiation, the last chapter of La Femme de trente Ans, which he was writing when her letter arrived, but Madame de Berny objected, so he saved the only copy of that dedication and wished Madame Hanska to keep it as a souvenir, and as an expression of his thanks.

According to Spoelberch de Lovenjoul, Balzac showed one of Madame Hanska's letters to Madame Carraud, and she answered it for him; but with his usual skill in answering severe cross-examinations, he replies:

"You have asked me with distrust to give an explanation of my two handwritings; but I have as many handwritings as there are days in the year, without being on that account the least in the world versatile. This mobility comes from an imagination which can conceive all and remain vague, like glass which is soiled by none of its reflections. The glass is in my brain."

In this same letter, which is the second given, Balzac writes: ". . . I am galloping towards Poland, and rereading all your letters,—I have but three of them, . . ." If this last statement be true, the answer to Spoelberch de Lovenjoul's question, "How many letters did Balzac receive thus?" is not difficult.

Miss Wormeley seems to be correct in saying that this second letter is inconsistent with the preceding one dated also in January, 1833, showing an arbitrary system of dating. There are others which are inconsistent, if not impossible, but if Spoelberch de Lovenjoul after the death of Madame Honore de Balzac found these letters scattered about in various places, as he states, it is quite possible that contents as well as dates are confused.[*]

[*] One can see at once the injustice of the criticism of M. Henry Bordeaux, la Grande Revue, November, 1899, in censuring Madame Hanska for publishing her letters from Balzac.

The husband of Madame Hanska, M. Wenceslas de Hanski, who was never a count, but a very rich man, was many years her senior, and suffered from "blue devils" and paresis a long time before his death. Though he was very generous with his wife in allowing her to travel, she often suffered from ennui in her beautifully furnished chateau of Wierzchownia, which Balzac described as being "as large as the Louvre." This was a great exaggeration, for it was comparatively small, having only about thirty rooms. With her husband, her little daughter Anna, her daughter's governess, Mademoiselle Henriette Borel, and two Polish relatives, Mesdemoiselles Severine and Denise Wylezynska, she led a lonely life and spent much of her time in reading, or writing letters. The household comprised the only people of education for miles around.

Having lost six of her seven children, and being an intensely maternal woman, the deepest feelings of her heart were devoted to her daughter Anna, who also was destined to occupy much of the time and thought of the author of the Comedie humaine.

If the letters printed in Un Roman d'Amour are genuine, in the one dated January 8, 1833, she speaks of having received with delight the copy of the Quotidienne in which his notice is inserted. She tells him that M. de Hanski with his family are coming nearer France, and she wishes to arrange some way for him to answer her letters, but he must never try to ascertain who the person is who will transmit his letters to her, and the greatest secrecy must be preserved.

It is not known how she arranged to have him send his letters, but he wrote her about once a month from January to September, and after that more frequently, as he was arranging to visit her. M. de Hanski with his numerous family had come to Neufchatel in July, having stopped in Vienna on the way. Here Balzac was to meet l'Etrangere for the first time. He left Paris September 22, stopping to make a business visit to his friend, Charles Bernard, at Besancon, and arriving at Neufchatel September 25. (Although this letter to M. Bernard is dated August, 1833, Balzac evidently meant September, for there is no Sunday, August 22, in 1833. He did not leave Paris until Sunday, September 22, 1833.) On the morning after his arrival, he writes her:

"I shall go to the Promenade of the faubourg from one o'clock till four. I shall remain during that time looking at the lake, which I have never seen."

Just what happened when they met, no one knows. The Princess Radziwill says that her aunt told her that Balzac called at her hotel to meet her and that there was nothing romantic in their introduction. Nevertheless, the most varied and amusing stories have been told of their first meeting.

Balzac remained in Neufchatel until October 1, having made a visit of five days. He took a secret box to Madame Hanska in which to keep his letters, having provided himself with a similar one in which to keep hers. If we are to credit the disputed letter of Saturday, October 12, we may learn something of what took place. Even before meeting Madame Hanska, he had inserted her name in one of his books, calling the young girl loved by M. Benassis "Evelina" (Le Medecin de Campagne).

Early in October M. de Hanski took his family to Geneva to spend the winter. After Balzac's departure from Neufchatel the tone of his letters to Madame Hanska changed; he used the tutoiement, and his adoration increased. For a while he wrote her a daily account of his life and dispatched the journal to her weekly.

Madame Hanska came into Balzac's life at a psychological moment. From his youth, his longing was "to be famous and to be loved." Having found the emptiness of a life of fame alone, having apparently grown weary of the poor Duchesse d'Abrantes, about to cease his intimacy with Madame de Berny, having been rejected by Mademoiselle de Trumilly, and having suffered bitterly at the hands of the Duchesse de Castries, he embraced this friendship with a new hope, and became Madame Hanska's slave.

If Balzac was charmed with the stories of the daughter of the femme de chambre of Marie Antoinette, was infatuated with a woman who had known Napoleon, and flattered by being invited to the home of one of the beautiful society ladies of the Faubourg Saint-Germain, what must have been his joy in learning that his new Chatelaine belonged to one of the most aristocratic families of Poland, the grandniece of Queen Marie Leczinska, the daughter of the wise Comte de Rzewuska, and the wife of one of the richest men in Russia!

But Madame Hanska was a very different woman from the kind, self-sacrificing, romantic Madame de Berny; the witty, splendor-loving, indulgent, poverty-stricken Duchesse d'Abrantes; or the frail, dazzling, blond coquette, the Duchesse de Castries. With more strength physically and mentally than her rivals, she possessed a marked authoritativeness that was not found in Madame de Berny, a breadth of vision impossible to Madame Junot, and freedom from the frivolity and coquetry of Madame de Castries.

The Princess Radziwill feels that the Polish woman who has come down to posterity merely as the object of Balzac's adoration, should be known as the being to whom he was indebted for the development of his marvelous genius, and as his collaborator in many of his works. According to the Princess, Modeste Mignon is almost entirely the work of Madame Hanska's pen. She gives this description of her aunt, which corresponds to Balzac's continual reference to her "analytical forehead":

"Madame de Balzac was perhaps not so brilliant in conversation as were her brothers and sisters. Her mind had something pedantic in it, and she was rather a good listener than a good talker, but whatever she said was to the point, and she was eloquent with her pen. She had that large glance only given to superior minds which allows them, according to the words of Catherine of Russia, 'to read the future in the history of the past.' She observed everything, was indulgent to every one. . . . Her family, who stood in more or less awe of her, treated her with great respect and consideration. . . . We all of us had a great opinion of the soundness of her judgments, and liked to consult her in any difficulty or embarrassment in our existence."

No sooner had Balzac returned from his visit to Neufchatel intoxicated with joy, than he began to plan his visit to Geneva. He would work day and night to be able to get away for a fortnight; he decided later to spend a month there, but he did not arrive until Christmas day. In the meantime, he referred to their promise (to marry) which was as holy and sacred to him as their mutual life, and he truly described his love as the most ardent, the most persistent of loves. Adoremus in aeternum had become their device, and Madame Hanska, not having as yet become accustomed to his continual financial embarrassment, wished to provide him with money, an offer which is reproduced in Eugenie Grandet.

Upon his arrival at Geneva the novelist found a ring awaiting him; he considered it as a talisman, wore it working, and it inspired Seraphita. He became her moujik and signed his name Honoreski. She became his "love," his "life," his "rose of the Occident," his "star of the North," his "fairy of the tiyeuilles," his "only thought," his "celestial angel," the end of all for him. "You shall be the young dilecta,—already I name you the predilecta."[*]

[*] Balzac was imitating Madame Hanska's pronunciation of tilleuls in having Madame Vauquer (Pere Goriot) pronounce it tieuilles.

His adoration became such that he writes her: "My loved angel, I am almost mad for you . . . I cannot put two ideas together that you do not come between them. I can think of nothing but you. In spite of myself my imagination brings me back to you. . . ." It was during his stay in Geneva that Madame Hanska presented her chain to him, which he used later on his cane.

Balzac left Geneva February 8, 1834, having spent forty-four days with his Predilecta, but his work was not entirely neglected. While there, he wrote almost all of La Duchesse de Langeais, and a large part of Seraphita. This work, which she inspired, was dedicated:

"To Madame Eveline de Hanska, nee Countess Rzewuska.

"Madame:—here is the work you desired of me; in dedicating it to you I am happy to offer you some token of the respectful affection you allow me to feel for you. If I should be accused of incapacity after trying to extract from the depths of mysticism this book, which demanded the glowing poetry of the East under the transparency of our beautiful language, the blame be yours! Did you not compel me to the effort—such an effort as Jacob's—by telling me that even the most imperfect outline of the figure dreamed of by you, as it has been by me from my infancy, would still be something in your eyes? Here, then, is that something. Why cannot this book be set apart exclusively for those lofty spirits who, like you, are preserved from worldly pettiness by solitude? They might impress on it the melodious rhythm which it lacks, and which, in the hands of one of our poets, might have made it the glorious epic for which France still waits. Still, they will accept it from me as one of those balustrades, carved by some artist full of faith, on which the pilgrims lean to moderate on the end of man, while gazing at the choir of a beautiful church. I remain, madame, with respect, your faithful servant,

"DE BALZAC."

In the spring of 1834, M. de Hanski and his family left Geneva for Florence, traveled for a few months, and arrived in Vienna during the summer, where they remained for about a year. But Balzac continued his correspondence with Madame Hanska. She was interested in collecting the autographs of famous people, and Balzac not only had an album made for her, but helped her collect the signatures.

More infatuated, if possible, than ever with her, he wanted her to secure her husband's consent for him to visit them at Rome. Then he felt that he must go to Vienna, see the Danube, explore the battlefields of Wagram and Essling, and have pictures made representing the uniforms of the German army.

In La Recherche de l'Absolu, he gave the name of Adam de Wierzchownia to a Polish gentleman, Wierzchownia being the name of Madame Hanska's home in the Ukraine. "I have amused myself like a boy in naming a Pole, M. de Wierzchownia, and bringing him on the scene in La Recherche de l'Absolu. That was a longing I could not resist, and I beg your pardon and that of M. de Hanski for the great liberty. You could not believe how that printed page fascinates me!" He writes her of another character, La Fosseuse, (Le Medecin de Campagne): "Ah! if I had known your features, I would have pleased myself in having them engraved as La Fosseuse. But though I have memory enough for myself, I should not have enough for a painter."

Either Balzac's adoration became too ardent, or displeasure was caused in some other way, for no letters to Madame Hanska appear from August 26 to October 9, 1834. In the meantime, a long letter was written to M. de Hanski apologizing for two letters written to his wife. He explained that one evening she jestingly remarked to him, beside the lake of Geneva, that she would like to know what a love-letter was like, so he promised to write her one. Being reminded of this promise, he sent her one, and received a cold letter of reproof from her after another letter was on the way to her. Receiving a second rebuke, he was desperate over the pleasantry, and wished to atone for this by presenting to her, with M. de Hanski's permission, some manuscripts already sent. He wished to send her the manuscript of Seraphita also, and to dedicate this book to her, if they could forgive him this error, for which he alone was to be censured.

Balzac was evidently pardoned, for he not only dedicated Seraphita to her, as has been shown, but arrived in Vienna on May 16, 1835, to visit her, bringing with him this manuscript. His stay was rather short, lasting only to June 4. While there, he was quite busy, working on Le Lys dans la Vallee, and declined many invitations. To get his twelve hours of work, he had to retire at nine o'clock in order to rise at three; this monastic rule dominated everything. He yielded something of his stern observance to Madame Hanska by giving himself three hours more freedom than in Paris, where he retired at six.

Soon after his return from Vienna, the novelist was informed that a package from Vienna was held for him with thirty-six francs due. Having, of course, no money, he sent his servant in a cab for the package, telling him where he could secure the money and, dead or alive, to bring the package. After spending four hours in an agony of anticipation, wondering what Madame Hanska could be sending him, his messenger arrived with a copy of Pere Goriot which he had given her in Vienna with the request that she give it to some one to whom it might afford pleasure.

It will be remembered that while in Vienna, Balzac's financial strain became such that his sister Laure pawned his silver. He afterwards admitted that the journey to Vienna was the greatest folly of his life; it cost him five thousand francs and upset all his affairs. He had other financial troubles also, but found time and means to consult a somnambulist frequently as to his Predilecta, and regretted that he did not have one or two soothsayers, so that he might know daily about her. His superstition is seen early in their correspondence where he considered it a good omen that Madame Hanska had sent him the Imitation de Jesus-Christ while he was working on Le Medecin de Campagne. Again and again he insisted that she tell him when any of her family were ill, feeling that he could cure at a distance those whom he loved; or that she should send him a piece of cloth worn next to her person, that he might present this to a clairvoyant.

After delving deeply into mysticism, and writing some books dealing with it, the novelist writes his "Polar Star":

"I am sorry to see that you are reading the mystics: believe me, this sort of reading is fatal to minds like yours; it is a poison; it is an intoxicating narcotic. These books have a bad influence. There are follies of virtue as there are follies of dissipation and vice. If you were not a wife, a mother, a friend, a relation, I would not seek to dissuade you, for then you might go and shut yourself up in a convent at your pleasure without hurting anybody, although you would soon die there. In your situation, and in your isolation in the midst of those deserts, this kind of reading, believe me, is pernicious. The rights of friendship are too feeble to make my voice heard; but let me at least make an earnest and humble request on this subject. Do not, I beg of you, ever read anything more of this kind. I have myself gone through all this, and I speak from experience."

As has been stated, Madame Hanska was of assistance to Balzac in his literary work. He used her ideas frequently, and was gracious in expressing his appreciation of them to her:

"I must tell you that yesterday . . . I copied out your portrait of Mademoiselle Celeste, and I said to two uncompromising judges: 'Here is a sketch I have flung on paper. I wanted to paint a woman under given circumstances, and launch her into life through such and such an event.' What do you think they said?—'Read that portrait again.' After which they said:—'That is your masterpiece. You have never before had that laisser-aller of a writer which shows the hidden strength.' 'Ha, ha!' I answered, striking my head; 'that comes from the forehead of an analyst.' I kneel at your feet for this violation; but I left out all that was personal. . . . I thank you for your glimpses of Viennese society. What I have learned about Germans in their relations elsewhere confirms what you say of them. Your story of General H—— comes up periodically. There has been something like it in all countries, but I thank you for having told it to me. The circumstances give it novelty."[*]

[*] This is only one of the numerous allusions Balzac made to the analytical forehead of Madame Hanska.

Though Balzac's letters to Madame Hanska became less effervescent as time went on, each year seemed to add to his admiration and "dog-like fidelity." She, on the other hand, complained of his dissipation, the society he kept, and his short letters.

While Balzac was in Vienna, he was working on Le Lys dans la Vallee. Although he said that Madame de Mortsauf was Madame de Berny, M. Adam Rzewuski, a brother of Madame Hanska, always felt that this character represented his sister, and called attention to the same intense maternal feeling of the two women, and the same sickly, morose husband. The Princess Radziwill also believes that this is a portrait of her aunt, which hypothesis is further strengthened by comments of Emile Faguet, who says that to one who has read Balzac's letters in 1834-1835 closely, it is clear that Madame de Mortsauf is Madame Hanska, and that the marvelous M. de Mortsauf is M. de Hanski.

Mr. F. Lawton also thinks that Balzac has shown his relations to Madame Hanska in making Felix de Vandenesse console himself with Lady Dudley while swearing high allegiance to his Henriette, just as Balzac was "inditing oaths of fidelity to his 'earth-angel' in far-away Russia while worshipping at shrines more accessible. Lady Dudley may well have been, for all his denial, the Countess Visconti, of whom Madame Hanska was jealous and on good grounds, or else the Duchesse de Castries, to whom he said that while writing the book he had caught himself shedding tears." Balzac says of this book:

"I have received five formal complaints from persons about me, who say that I have unveiled their private lives. I have very curious letters on this subject. It appears that there are as many Messieurs de Mortsauf as there are angels at Clochegourde, and angels rain down upon me, but they are not white."

In the early autumn of 1835, M. de Hanski and his family, having spent several weeks at Ischl, returned to their home at Wierzchownia after an absence of more than two years. It was during this long stay at Vienna that Madame Hanska had Daffinger make the miniature which occupies so much space in Balzac's letters in later years.

It must have been a relief to poor Balzac when his Chatelaine returned to her home, for while traveling she was negligent about giving him her address, so that he was never sure whether she received all his letters, and she did not number hers, as he had asked her to do, so that he was not certain that he received all that she wrote him; neither would she—though leading a life of leisure—write as often as he wished. But if he scolded her for this, she had other matters to worry her. She was ever anxious about the safety of her letters, asked for many explanations of his conduct, for interpretations of various things in his works, and who certain friends were, so much so that his letters are filled with vindications of himself. Even before they had ever met, he wrote her that he could not take a step that was not misinterpreted. She seemed continually to be hearing of something derogatory to his character, and trying to investigate his actions. The reader has had glimpses enough of Balzac's life to understand what a task was hers. Yet she doubtless sometimes accused him unnecessarily, and he in turn became impatient:

"This letter contains two reproaches which have keenly affected me; and I think I have already told you that a few chance expressions would suffice to make me go to Wierzchownia, which would be a misfortune in my present perilous situation; but I would rather lose everything than lose a true friendship. . . . In short, you distrust me at a distance, just as you distrusted me near by, without any reason. I read quite despairingly the paragraph of your letter in which you do the honors of my heart to my mind, and sacrifice my whole personality to my brain. . . . In your last letters, you know, you have believed things that are irreconcilable with what you know of me. I cannot explain to myself your tendency to believe absurd calumnies. I still remember your credulity in Geneva, when they said I was married."

Even her own family added to her suspicions:

". . . Your letter has crushed me more than all the heavy nonsense that jealousy and calumny, lawsuit and money matters have cast upon me. My sensibility is a proof of friendship; there are none but those we love who can make us suffer. I am not angry with your aunt, but I am angry that a person as distinguished as you say she is should be accessible to such base and absurd calumny. But you yourself, at Geneva, when I told you I was as free as air, you believed me to be married, on the word of one of those fools whose trade it is to sell money. I began to laugh. Here, I no longer laugh, because I have the horrible privilege of being horribly calumniated. A few more controversies like the last, and I shall retire to the remotest part of Touraine, isolating myself from everything, renouncing all, . . . Think always that what I do has a reason and an object, that my actions are necessary. There is, for two souls that are a little above others, something mortifying in repeating to you for the tenth time not to believe in calumny. When you said to me three letters ago, that I gambled, it was just as true as my marriage at Geneva. . . . You attribute to me little defects which I do not have to give yourself the pleasure of scolding me. No one is less extravagant than I; no one is willing to live with more economy. But reflect that I work too much to busy myself with certain details, and, in short, that I had rather spend five to six thousand francs a year than marry to have order in my household; for a man who undertakes what I have undertaken either marries to have a quiet existence, or accepts the wretchedness of La Fontaine and Rousseau. For pity's sake, do not talk to me of my want of order; it is the consequence of the independence in which I live, and which I desire to keep."

In spite of these reproaches, Balzac's affection for her continued, and he decided to have his portrait made for her. Boulanger was the artist chosen, and since he wished payment at once, Madame Hanska sent the novelist a sum for this purpose. For a Christmas greeting, 1836, she sent him a copy of the Daffinger miniature made at Vienna the preceding year. Again—this time in Illusions perdues—he gave her name, Eve, to a young girl whom he regarded as the most charming creature he had created (Eve Chardon, who became Madame David Sechard).

In the spring of 1837 Balzac went to Italy to spend a few weeks. Seeing at Florence a bust of his Predilecta, made by Bartolini, he asked M. de Hanski's permission to have a copy of it, half size, made for himself, to place on his writing desk. This journey aroused Madame Hanska's suspicions again, but he assured her he was not dissipating, but was traveling to rejuvenate his broken-down brain, since, working night and day as he did, a man might easily die of overstrain.

He continued to save his manuscripts for her, awaiting an opportunity to send or take them to her. Her letters became less frequent and full of stings, but he begged her to disbelieve everything she heard of him except from himself, as she had almost a complete journal of his life. He explained that the tour he purposed making to the Mediterranean was neither for marriage nor for anything adventurous or silly, but he was pledged to secrecy, and, whether it turned out well or ill, he risked nothing but a journey. As to her reproaches how he, knowing all, penetrating and observing all, could be so duped and deceived, he wondered if she could love him if he were always so prudent that no misfortune ever happened to him.

In the spring of 1838 he took his Mediterranean trip, going to Corsica, Sardinia, and Italy in quest of his Eldorado, but, as usual, he was doomed to meet with disappointment. On his return he went to Les Jardies to reside, which was later to be the cause of another financial disaster. Replying to her criticism of his journey to Sardinia, he begged her never to censure those who feel themselves sunk in deep waters and are struggling to the surface, for the rich can never comprehend the trials of the unfortunate. One must be without friends, without resources, without food, without money, to know to its depths what misfortune is.

In spite of her reproaches he continued to protest his devotion to her. Though her letters were cold, he begged her to gaze on the portrait of her moujik and feel that he was the most constant, least volatile, most steadfast of men. He was willing to obey her in all things except in his affections, and she was complete mistress of those. Seized with a burning desire to see her, he planned a visit to Wierzchownia as soon as his financial circumstances would permit.

During a period of three months, Balzac received no letter from his "Polar Star," but he expressed his usual fidelity to her. Miserable or fortunate, he was always the same to her; it was because of his unchangeableness of heart that he was so painfully wounded by her neglect. Carried away, as he often was, by his torrential existence, he might miss writing to her, but he could not understand how she could deprive him of the sacred bread which restored his courage and gave him new life.

His long struggle with his debts and his various financial and domestic troubles seemed at times to deprive him of his usual hope and patience. In a depressed vein, he replies to one of her letters:

"Ah! I think you excessively small; and it shows me that you are of this world! Ah! you write to me no longer because my letters are rare! Well, they were rare because I did not have the money to post them, but I would not tell you that. Yes, my distress had reached that point and beyond it. It is horrible and sad, but it is true, as true as the Ukraine where you are. Yes, there have been days when I proudly ate a roll of bread on the boulevard. I have had the greatest sufferings: self-love, pride, hope, prospects, all have been attacked. But I shall, I hope, surmount everything. I had not a penny, but I earned for those atrocious Lecou and Delloye seventy thousand francs in a year. The Peytel affair cost me ten thousand francs, and people said I was paid fifty thousand! That affair and my fall, which kept me as you know, forty days in bed, retarded my business by more than thirty thousand francs. Oh! I do not like your want of confidence! You think that I have a great mind, but you will not admit that I have a great heart! After nearly eight years, you do not know me! My God, forgive her, for she knows not what she does!"

The novelist wrote his Predilecta of his ideas of marriage, and how he longed to marry, but he became despondent about this as well as about his debts; he felt that he was growing old, and would not live long. His comfort while working was a picture of Wierzchownia which she had sent him, but in addition to all of his other troubles he was annoyed because some of her relatives who were in Paris carried false information to her concerning him.

Not having heard from her for six months, he resorted to his frequent method of allaying his anxiety by consulting a clairvoyant to learn if she were ill. He was told that within six weeks he would receive a letter that would change his entire life. Almost four more months passed, however, without his hearing from her and he feared that she was not receiving his letters, or that hers had gone astray, as he no longer had a home.

For once, the sorcerer had predicted somewhat correctly! Not within six weeks, to be sure, but within six months, the letter came that was to change Balzac's entire life. On January 5, 1842, a letter arrived from Madame Hanska, telling of the death of M. de Hanski which had occurred on November 10, 1841.

His reply is one of the most beautiful of his letters to her:

"I have this instant received, dear angel, your letter sealed with black, and, after having read it, I could not perhaps have wished to receive any other from you, in spite of the sad things you tell me about yourself and your health. As for me, dear, adored one, although this event enables me to attain to that which I have ardently desired for nearly ten years, I can, before you and God, do myself this justice, that I have never had in my heart anything but complete submission, and that I have not, in my most cruel moments, stained my soul with evil wishes. No one can prevent involuntary transports. Often I have said to myself, 'How light my life would be with her!' No one can keep his faith, his heart, his inner being without hope. . . . But I understand the regrets which you express to me; they seem to me natural and true, especially after the protection which has never failed you since that letter at Vienna. I am, however, joyful to know that I can write to you with open heart to tell you all those things on which I have kept silence, and disperse the melancholy complaints you have founded on misconceptions, so difficult to explain at a distance. I know you too well, or I think I know you too well, to doubt you for one moment; and I have often suffered, very cruelly suffered, that you have doubted me, because, since Neufchatel, you are my life. Let me say this to you plainly, after having so often proved it to you. The miseries of my struggle and of my terrible work would have tired out the greatest and strongest men; and often my sister has desired to put an end to them, God knows how; I always thought the remedy worse than the disease! It is you alone who have supported me till now, . . . You said to me, 'Be patient, you are loved as much as you love. Do not change, for others change not.' We have both been courageous; why, therefore, should you not be happy to-day? Do you think it was for myself that I have been so persistent in magnifying my name? Oh! I am perhaps very unjust, but this injustice comes from the violence of my heart! I would have liked two words for myself in your letter, but I sought them in vain; two words for him who, since the landscape in which you live has been before his eyes, has not passed, while working, ten minutes without looking at it; I have there sought all, ever since it came to me, that we have asked in the silence of our spirits."

He was concerned about her health and wished to depart at once, but feared to go without her permission. She was anxious about her letters, but he assured her that they were safe, and begged her to inform him when he could visit her; for six years he had been longing to see her. "Adieu, my dear and beautiful life that I love so well, and to whom I can now say it. Sempre medisimo."

The role played by M. de Hanski[*] in this friendship was a peculiar one. The correspondence, as has been seen, began in secrecy, but Balzac met him when he went to Neufchatel to see Madame Hanska. Their relations were apparently cordial, for on his return to Paris, the novelist wrote him a friendly note, enclosing an autograph of Rossini whom M. de Hanski admired. The Polish gentleman (he was never a count) must have been willing to have Balzac visit his wife again, at Geneva, when their friendship seemed to grow warmer. Balzac called him l'honorable Marechal de l'Ukraine or the Grand Marechal, and extended to him his thanks or regards in sending little notes to Madame Hanska, and thus he was early cognizant of their correspondence. The future author of the Comedie humaine seems to have been taken into the family circle and to have become somewhat a favorite of M. de Hanski, who was suffering with his "blue devils" at that time.

[*] The present writer is following the predominant custom of using the de in connection with M. de Hanski's name, and omitting it in speaking of his wife.

Since Balzac was not only an excellent story-teller but naturally very jovial, and M. de Hanski suffered from ennui and wished to be amused, they became friends. On his return to Paris, they exchanged a few letters, and Balzac introduced stories to amuse him in his letters to Madame Hanska. He wrote most graciously to the Marechal, apologizing for the two love letters he had written his wife, and this letter was answered. The novelist was invited by him to visit them in Wierzchownia—an invitation he planned to accept, but did not.

In the spring of 1836, M. de Hanski sent Balzac a very handsome malachite inkstand, also a cordial letter telling him the family news, how much he enjoyed his works, and that he hoped with his family to visit him in Paris within two years. He mentioned that his wife was preparing for Balzac a long letter of several pages, and assured him of his sincere friendship. Balzac was most appreciative of the gift of the beautiful inkstand, but felt that it was too magnificent for a poor man to use, so would place it in his collection and prize it as one of his most precious souvenirs.

Besides discussing business with the Polish gentleman, Balzac apologized often for not answering his letters, offering lack of time as his excuse, but he planned to visit Wierzchownia, where he and M. de Hanski would enjoy hearty laughs while Madame Hanska could work at his comedies. In spite of this friendly correspondence, the Marechal probably hinted to his wife that her admiration for the author was too warm, for Balzac asked her to reassure her husband that he was not only invulnerable, but immune from attack. Balzac spoke of dedicating one of his books in the Comedie humaine to M. de Hanski, but no dedication to him is found in this work. His death, which occurred some months after this suggestion, doubtless prevented the realization of it.

Balzac evidently received a negative reply to his letter to Madame Hanska asking to be permitted to visit her immediately after her husband's death. It would have been a breach of the convenances had he gone to visit her so early in her widowhood. Soon after learning of M. de Hanski's death, he saw an announcement of the death of a Countess Kicka of Volhynia, and since his "Polar Star" had spoken of being ill, he was seized with fear lest this be a misprint for Hanska, and was confined to his bed for two days with a nervous fever.

What must have been Balzac's disappointment, when almost ready to leave at any moment, to receive a letter which, as he expressed it, killed the youth in him, and rent his heart! She felt that she owed everything to her daughter, who had consoled her, and nothing to him; yet she knew that she was everything to him.

He thought that she loved Anna too much, protested his fidelity to her when she accused him, and reverted to his favorite theme of comparing her to the devoted Madame de Berny. He complained of her coldness, wanted to visit her in August at St. Petersburg, and desired her to promise that they would be married within two years.

Princess Radziwill wrote: "When Madame Hanska's husband died, it was supposed that her union with Balzac would occur at once, but obstacles were interposed by others. Her own family looked down upon the great French author as a mere story-teller; and by her late husband's people sordid motives were imputed to him, to account for his devotion to the heiress. The latter objection was removed, a few years later, by the widow's giving up to her daughter the fortune left to her by Monsieur Hanski."

It is at this period that Balzac furnishes us with the key to one of his works, Albert Savarus, in writing to Madame Hanska:

"Albert Savarus has had much success. You will read it in the first volume of the Comedie humaine, almost after the fausse Maitresse, where with childish joy I have made the name Rzewuski shine in the midst of those of the most illustrious families of the North. Why have I not placed Francesca Colonna at Diodati? Alas, I was afraid that it would be too transparent. Diodati makes my heart beat! Those four syllables, it is the cry of the Montjoie Saint-Denis! of my heart."

Francesca Colonna, the Princess Gandolphini, is the heroine of l'Ambitieux par Amour, a novel supposed to have been published by Albert Savarus and described in the book which bears his name. Using her name, the hero is represented as having written the story of the Duchesse d'Argaiolo and himself, he taking the name of Rodolphe. Here are given, in disguise again, the details of Balzac's early relations to Madame Hanska. Albert Savarus, while traveling in Switzerland, sees a lady's face at the window of an upper room, admires it and seeks the lady's acquaintance. She proves to be the Duchesse d'Argaiolo, an Italian in exile. She had been married very young to the Duke d'Argaiolo, who was rich and much older than she. The young man falls in love with this beautiful lady, and she promises to be his as soon as she becomes free.

Gabriel Ferry states that Balzac first saw Madame Hanska's face at a window, and the Princess Radziwill says that Balzac went to the hotel to meet her aunt. It is to be noted that the year 1834 is that in which Balzac and Madame Hanska were in Geneva together.

The Villa Diodati, noted for having been inhabited by Lord Byron, is situated on Lake Geneva, at Cologny, not far from Pre Leveque,[*] where M. de Hanski and his family resided in the maison Mirabaud-Amat.

[*] Balzac preserved a remembrance of the happy days he had spent with Madame Hanska at Pre-Leveque, Lake Geneva, by dating La Duchesse de Langeais, January 26, 1834, Pre-Leveque.

There are numerous allusions to Diodati in Balzac's correspondence, from which one would judge that he had some very unhappy associations with Madame de Castries, and some very happy ones with Madame Hanska in connection with Diodati:

"When I want to give myself a magnificent fete, I close my eyes, lie down on one of my sofas, . . . and recall that good day at Diodati which effaced a thousand pangs I had felt there a year before. You have made me know the difference between a true affection and a simulated one, and for a heart as childlike as mine, there is cause there for an eternal gratitude. . . . When some thought saddens me, then I have recourse to you; . . . I see again Diodati, I stretch myself on the good sofa of the Maison Mirabaud. . . . Diodati, that image of a happy life, reappears like a star for a moment clouded, and I began to laugh, as you know I can laugh. I say to myself that so much work will have its recompense, and that I shall have, like Lord Byron, my Diodati. I sing in my bad voice: 'Diodati, Diodati!'"

Another excerpt shows that Balzac had in mind his own life in connection with Madame Hanska's in writing Albert Savarus:

". . . It is six o'clock in the morning, I have interrupted myself to think of you, reminded of you by Switzerland where I have placed the scene of Albert Savarus.—Lovers in Switzerland,—for me, it is the image of happiness. I do not wish to place the Princess Gandolphini in the maison Mirabaud, for there are people in the world who would make a crime of it for us. This Princess is a foreigner, an Italian, loved by Savarus."

Many of Balzac's traits are seen in Albert Savarus. Like Balzac, Albert Savarus was defeated in politics, but hoped for election; was a lawyer, expected to rise to fame, and was about three years older than the woman he loved. Like Madame Hanska, the Duchesse d'Argaiolo, known as the Princess Gandolphini, was beautiful, noble, a foreigner, and married to a man very rich and much older than she, who was not companionable. It was on December 26 that Albert Savarus arrived at the Villa on Lake Geneva to visit his princes, while Balzac arrived December 25 to visit Madame Hanska at her Villa there. The two lovers spent the winter together, and in the spring, the Duc d'Argaiolo (Prince Gandolphini) and his wife went to Naples, and Albert Savarus (Rodolphe) returned to Paris, just as M. de Hanski took his family to Italy in the spring, while Balzac returned to Paris.

Albert Savarus was falsely accused of being married, just as Madame Hanska had accused Balzac. The letters to the Duchess from Savarus are quite similar to some Balzac wrote to Madame Hanska. Like Balzac, Savarus saw few people, worked at night, was poor, ever hopeful, communed with the portrait of his adored one, had trouble in regard to the delivery of her letters, and was worried when they did not come; yet he was patient and willing to wait until the Duke should die. Like Madame Hanska, the Duchess feared her lover was unfaithful to her, and in both cases a woman sowed discord, though the results were different.[*]

[*] Miss K. P. Wormeley does not think that Albert Savarus was inspired by Balzac's relations with Madame Hanska. For her arguments, see Memoir of Balzac.

Madame Hanska did not care for this book, but Balzac told her she was not familiar enough with French society to appreciate it.

Miss Mary Hanford Ford thinks that Madame Hanska inspired another of Balzac's works: "It is probable that in Madame de la Chanterie we are given Balzac's impassioned and vivid idealization of the woman who became his wife at last. . . . Balzac's affection for Madame Hanska was to a large degree tinged with the reverence which the Brotherhood shared for Madame de la Chanterie. . . ." While the Freres de la Consolation adored Madame de la Chanterie in a beautiful manner, neither her life nor her character was at all like Madame Hanska's. This work is dated December, 1847, Wierzchownia, and was doubtless finished there, but he had been working on it for several years.

In the autumn of 1842,[*] Madame Hanska went to St. Petersburg. She complained of a sadness and melancholy which Balzac's most ardent devotion could not overcome. He became her patito, and she the queen of his life, but he too suffered from depression, and even consented to wait three years for her if she would only permit him to visit her. He insisted that his affection was steadfast and eternal, but in addition to showing him coldness, she unjustly rebuked him, having heard that he was gambling. She had a prolonged lawsuit, and he wished her to turn the matter over to him, feeling sure that he could win the case for her.

[*] Emile Faguet, Balzac, says that it was in 1843 that Madame Hanska went to St. Petersburg. He has made several such slight mistakes throughout this work.

Thus passed the year 1842. She eventually consented to let him come in May to celebrate his birthday. But alas! A great remora stood in the way. Poor Balzac did not have the money to make the trip. Then also he had literary obligations to meet, but he felt very much fatigued from excessive work and wanted to leave Paris for a rest. Her letters were so unsatisfactory that he implored her to engrave in her dear mind, if she would not write it in her heart, that he wished her to use some of her leisure time in writing a few lines to him daily. As was his custom when in distress, he sought a fortune-teller for comfort, and as usual, was delighted with his prophecy. The notorious Balthazar described to him perfectly the woman he loved, told him that his love was returned, that there would never be a cloud in their sky, in spite of the intensity of their characters, and that he would be going to see her within six months. The soothsayer was correct in this last statement, at least, for Balzac arrived at St. Petersburg soon after this interview.

Madame Hanska felt that she was growing old, but Balzac assured her that he should love her even were she ugly, and he relieved her mind of this fear by writing in her Journal intime that although he had not seen her since they were in Vienna, he thought her as beautiful and young as then—after an interval of seven years.[*]

[*] Balzac should have said an interval of eight years instead of seven, for he visited her in Vienna in May and June, 1835, and he wrote this in September 1843. This is only one of the novelist's numerous mistakes in figuring, seen throughout his entire works.

Balzac arrived in St. Petersburg on July 17_29, and left there late in September,[*] 1843, stopping to visit in Berlin and Dresden. Becoming very ill, he cut short his visit to Mayence and Cologne and arrived in Paris November 3, in order to consult his faithful Dr. Nacquart. Excess of work, the sorrow of leaving Madame Hanska, disappointment, and deferred hopes were too much for his nervous system. His letters to Madame Hanska were, if possible, filled with greater detail than ever concerning his debts, his household and family matters, his works and society gossip. The _tu_ frequently replaces the _vous_, and having apparently exhausted all the endearing names in the French language, he resorted to the Hebrew, and finds that _Lididda_ means so many beautiful things that he employs this word. He calls her _Liline_ or _Line_; she becomes his _Louloup_, his "lighthouse," his "happy star," and the _sicura richezza, senza brama_.

[*] Unless the editor of Lettres a l'Etrangere is confusing the French and Russian dates, he has made a mistake in dating certain of Balzac's letters from St. Petersburg. He had two dated October 1843, St. Petersburg, and on his way home from there Balzac writes from Taurogen dating his letter September 27-October 10, 1843. Hence the exact date of his departure from St. Petersburg is obscure.

Madame Hanska and Balzac seem to have had many idiosyncrasies in common, among which was their penchant for jewelry, as well as perfumes. Since their meeting at Geneva, the two exchanged gifts of jewelry frequently, and the discussion, engraving, measuring, and exchanging of various rings occupied much of Balzac's precious time.

His fondness for antiques was another extravagance, and he invested not a little in certain pieces of furniture which had belonged to Marie de Medicis and Henri IV; this purchase he regretted later, and talked of selling, but, instead, added continually to his collection. He was constantly sending, or wanting to send some present to Madame Hanska or to her daughter Anna, but nothing could be compared with the priceless gift he received from her. The Daffinger miniature arrived February 2, 1844.

As a New Year's greeting for 1844, Balzac dedicated to Madame Hanska Les Bourgeois de Paris, later called Les petits Bourgeois, saying that the first work written after his brief visit with her should be inscribed to her. This dedication is somewhat different from the one published in his OEuvres:

"To Constance-Victoire:[*]

"Here, madame and friend is one of those works which fall, we know not whence, into an author's mind and afford him pleasure before he can estimate how they will be received by the public, that great judge of our time. But, almost sure of your good-will, I dedicate it to you. It belongs to you, as formerly the tithe belonged to the church, in memory of God from whom all things come, who makes all ripen, all mature! Some lumps of clay left by Moliere at the base of his statue of Tartufe have been molded by a hand more audacious than skilful. But, at whatever distance I may be below the greatest of humorists, I shall be satisfied to have utilized these little pieces of the stage-box of his work to show the modern hypocrite at work. That which most encouraged me in this difficult undertaking is to see it separated from every religious question, which was so injurious to the comedy of Tartufe, and which ought to be removed to-day. May the double significance of your name be a prophecy for the author, and may you be pleased to find here the expression of his respectful gratitude.

"DE BALZAC. "January 1, 1844."

[*] Constance was either one of Madame Hanska's real names, or one given her by Balzac, for he writes to her, in speaking of Mademoiselle Borel's entering the convent: "My most sincere regards to Soeur Constance, for I imagine that Saint Borel will take one of your names." Although Balzac hoped at one time to have Les petits Bourgeois completed by July 1844, it was left unfinished at his death, and was completed and published in 1855.

During the winter of 1844, Madame Hanska wrote a story and then threw it into the fire. In doing this she carried out a suggestion given her by Balzac several years before, when he wrote her that he liked to have a woman write and study, but she should have the courage to burn her productions. She told the novelist what she had done, and he requested her to rewrite her study and send it to him, and he would correct it and publish it under his name. In this way she could enjoy all the pleasure of authorship in reading what he would preserve of her beautiful and charming prose. In the first place, she must paint a provincial family, and place the romantic, enthusiastic young girl in the midst of the vulgarities of such an existence; and then, by correspondence, make a transit to the description of a poet in Paris. A friend of the poet, who is to continue the correspondence, must be a man of decided talent, and the denouement must be in his favor against the great poet. Also the manias and the asperities of a great soul which alarm and rebuff inferior souls should be shown; in doing this she would aid him in earning a few thousand francs.

Her story, in the hands of this great wizard, grew like a mushroom, without pain or effort, and soon developed into the romantic novel, Modeste Mignon. She had thrown her story into the fire, but the fire had returned it to him and given him power, as did the coal of fire on the lips of the great prophet, and he wished to give all the glory to his adored collaborator.

When reading this book, Madame Hanska objected to Balzac's having made the father of the heroine scold her for beginning a secret correspondence with an author, feeling that Balzac was disapproving of her conduct in writing to him first, but Balzac assured her that such was not his intention, and that he considered this demarche of hers as royale and reginale. Another trait, which she probably did not recognize, was that just as the great poet Canalis was at first indifferent to the letters of the heroine, and allowed Ernest de la Briere to answer them, so was Balzac rather indifferent to hers, and Madame Carraud—as already stated—is supposed to have replied to one of them.

There is no doubt that Balzac had his Louloup in mind while writing this story, for in response to the criticism that Modest was too clever, he wrote Madame Hanska that she and her cousin Caliste who had served him as models for his heroine were superior to her. He first dedicated this work to her under the name of un Etrangere, but seeing the mistake the public made in ascribing this dedication to the Princesse Belgiojoso, he at a later date specified the nationality, and inscribed the book:

"To a Polish Lady:

"Daughter of an enslaved land, an angel in love, a demon in imagination, a child in faith, an old man in experience, a man in brain, a woman in heart, a giant in hope, a mother in suffering and a poet in your dreams,—this work, in which your love and your fancy, your faith, your experience, your suffering, your hopes and your dreams are like chains by which hangs a web less lovely than the poetry cherished in your soul—the poetry whose expression when it lights up your countenance is, to those who admire you, what the characters of a lost language are to the learned—this work is yours.

"DE BALZAC."

In La fausse Maitresse, Balzac represented Madame Hanska in the role of the Countess Clementine Laginska, who was silently loved by Thaddee Paz, a Polish refugee. This Thaddee Paz was no other than Thaddee Wylezynski, a cousin who adored her, and who died in 1844. Balzac learned of the warm attachment existing between Madame Hanska and her cousin soon after meeting her, and compared his faithful friend Borget to her Thaddee. On hearing of the death of Thaddee, he writes her: "The death of Thaddee, which you announce to me, grieves me. You have told me so much of him, that I loved one who loved you so well, although! You have doubtless guessed why I called Paz, Thaddee. Poor dear one, I shall love you for all those whose love you lose!"

Balzac longed to be free from his debts, and have undisturbed possession of Les Jardies, where they could live en pigeons heureux. Ever inclined to give advice, he suggested to her that she should have her interests entirely separate form Anna's, quoting the axiom, N'ayez aucune collision d'interet avec vos enfants, and that she was wrong in refusing a bequest from her deceased husband. She should give up all luxuries, dismiss all necessary employees and not spend so much of her income but invest it. He felt that she and her daughter were lacking in business ability; this proved to be too true, but Balzac was indeed a very poor person to advise her on this subject; however, her lack of accuracy in failing to date her letters was, to be sure, a great annoyance to him.

On the other hand, she suspected her Nore, had again heard that he was married, and that he was given to indulging in intoxicating liquors; she advised him not to associate so much with women.

Having eventually won her lawsuit, she returned to Wierzchownia in the spring of 1844, after a residence of almost two years in St. Petersburg. Her daughter Anna had made her debut in St. Petersburg society, and had met the young Comte George de Mniszech, who was destined to become her husband. Balzac was not pleased with this choice, and felt that the protege of the aged Comte Potocki would make a better husband, for moral qualities were to be considered rather than fortune.

After spending the summer and autumn at her home, Madame Hanska went to Dresden for the winter. As early as August, Balzac sought permission to visit her there, making his request in time to arrange his work in advance and secure the money for the journey, in case she consented. While in St. Petersburg, she had given him money to buy some gift for Anna, so he planned to take both of them many beautiful things, and une cave de parfums as a gift de nez a nez. If she would not consent to his coming to Dresden, he would come to Berlin, Leipsic, Frankfort, Aix-la-Chapelle, or anywhere else. He became impatient to know his fate, and her letters were so irregular that he exclaimed: "In heaven's name, write me regularly three times a month!"

Poor Balzac's dream was to be on the way to Dresden, but this was not to be realized. It will be remembered, that Madame Hanska's family did not approve of Balzac nor did they appreciate his literary worth, they felt that the marriage would be a decided mesalliance, and exerted their influence against him. Discouraged by them and her friends, she forbade his coming. While her family called him a scribe exotique, Balzac indirectly told her of the appreciation of other women, saying that Madame de Girardin considered him to be one of the most charming conversationalists of the day.

This uncertainty as to his going to visit his "Polar Star" affected him to such a degree that he could not concentrate his mind on his work, and he became impatient to the point of scolding her:

"But, dear Countess, you have made me lose all the month of January and the first fifteen days of February by saying to me: 'I start —to-morrow—next week,' and by making me wait for letters; in short, by throwing me into rages which I alone know! This has brought a frightful disorder into my affairs, for instead of getting my liberty February 15, I have before me a month of herculean labor, and on my brain I must inscribe this which will be contradicted by my heart: 'Think no longer of your star, nor of Dresden, nor of travel; stay at your chain and work miserably! . . . Dear Countess, I decidedly advise you to leave Dresden at once. There are princesses in that town who infect and poison your heart, and were it not for Les Paysans, I should have started at once to prove to that venerable invalid of Cythera how men of my stamp love; men who have not received, like her prince, a Russian pumpkin in place of a French heart from the hands of hyperborean nature. . . . Tell your dear Princess that I have known you since 1833, and that in 1845 I am ready to go from Paris to Dresden to see you for a day; and it is not impossible for me to make this trip; . . ."

In the meantime she had not only forbidden his coming to visit her, but had even asked him not to write to her again at Dresden, to which he replies:

"May I write without imprudence, before receiving a counter-order? Your last letter counseled me not to write again to Dresden. However, I take up my pen on the invitation contained in your letter of the 8th. Since you, as well as your child, are absolutely determined to see your Lirette again, there is but one way for it, viz., to come to Paris."

He planned how she could secure a passport for Frankfort and the Rhine and meet him at Mayence, where he would have a passport for his sister and his niece so that they could come to Paris to remain from March 15 until May 15. Once in Paris, in a small suite of rooms furnished by him, they could visit Lirette at the convent, take drives, frequent the theatres, shop at a great advantage, and keep everything in the greatest secrecy. He continues:

"Dear Countess, the uncertainty of your arrival at Frankfort has weighed heavily on me, for how can I begin to work, whilst awaiting a letter, which may cause me to set out immediately? I have not written a line of the Paysans. From a material point of view, all this has been fatal to me. Not even your penetrating intelligence can comprehend this, as you know nothing of Parisian economy nor the difficulties in the life of a man who is trying to live on six thousand francs a year."

Thus was his time wasted; and when he dared express gently and lovingly the feelings which were overpowering him, his beautiful Chatelaine was offended, and rebuked him for his impatience. Desperate and almost frantic, he writes her:

"Dresden and you dizzy me; I do not know what is to be done. There is nothing more fatal than the indecision in which you have kept me for three months. If I had departed the first of January to return February 28, I should be more advanced (in work) and I would have had two good months at St. Petersburg. Dear sovereign star, how do you expect me to be able to conceive two ideas, to write two sentences, with my heart and head agitated as they have been since last November; it is enough to drive a man mad! I have drenched myself with coffee to no avail, I have only increased the nervous trouble of my eyes; . . . I am between two despairs, that of not seeing you, of not having seen you, and the financial and literary chagrin, the chagrin of self-respect. Oh! Charles II was right in saying: 'But She? . . .' in all matters which his ministers submitted to him."

On receipt of a letter from her April 18, 1845, saying, "I desire much to see you," he rushed off at once to Dresden, forgetful of all else. In July, Madame Hanska and her daughter accompanied him home, traveling incognito as Balzac's sister and his niece, just as he had planned. Anna is said to have taken the name of Eugenie, perhaps in remembrance of Balzac's heroine, Eugenie Grandet. After stopping at various places on the way, they spent a few weeks at Paris. Balzac had prepared a little house in Passy near him for his friends, and he took much pleasure in showing them his treasures and Paris. Their identity was not discovered, and in August he accompanied them as far as Brussels on their return to Dresden. There they met Count George Mniszech, the fiance of Anna, who had been with them most of the time.

Balzac could scarcely control his grief at parting, but he was not separated from his Predilecta long. The following month he spent several days with her at Baden-Baden, saying of his visit:

"Baden has been for me a bouquet of sweet flowers without a thorn. We lived there so peacefully, so delightfully, and so completely heart to heart. I have never been so happy before in my life. I seemed to catch a glimpse of that future which I desire and dream of in the midst of my overwhelming labors. . . ."

The happiness of Madame Hanska did not seem to be so great, for, ever uncertain, she consulted a fortune-teller about him. To this he replies: "Tell your fortune-teller that her cards have lied, and that I am not preoccupied with any blonde, except Dame Fortune." As to whether she was justified in being suspicious, one can judge from the preceding pages. Balzac always denied or explained to her these accusations; however true were some of his vindications of himself, he certainly exaggerated in assuring her that he always told her the exact truth and never hid from her the smallest trifle whether good or bad.

In October, 1845, the novelist left Paris again, met his "Polar Star," her daughter and M. de Mniszech at Chalons, and accompanied them on their Italian tour by way of Marseilles as far as Naples. On his return to Marseilles on November 12, he invested in wonderful bargains in bric-a-brac, a favorite pursuit which eventually cost him a great deal in worry and time as well as much money. Madame Hanska had supplied his purse from time to time.

Although he was being pressed by debts and for unfinished work, having wasted almost the entire year and having had much extra expense in traveling, Balzac could not rise to the situation, and implored his Chatelaine to resign herself to keeping him near her, for he had done nothing since he left Dresden. In this frame of mind, he writes:

"Nothing amuses me, nothing distracts me, nothing enlivens me; it is the death of the soul, the death of the will, the collapse of the entire being; I feel that I cannot take up my work until I see my life decided, fixed, settled. . . . I am quite exhausted; I have waited too long, I have hoped too much, I have been too happy this year; and I no longer wish anything else. After so many years of toil and misfortune, to have been free as a bird of the air, a thoughtless traveler, super-humanly happy, and then to come back to a dungeon! . . . is that possible? . . . I dream, I dream by day, by night; and my heart's thought, folding upon itself, prevents all action of the thought of the brain—it is fearful!"

Balzac was ever seeing objects worthy to be placed in his art collection, going quietly through Paris on foot, and having his friend Mery continue to secure bargains at Marseilles. A most important event at this period is the noticeable decline in the novelist's health. Though these attacks of neuralgia and numerous colds were regarded as rather casual, had he not been so imbued with optimism—an inheritance from his father—he might have foreseen the days of terrible suffering and disappointment that were to come to him in Russia. Nature was beginning to revolt; the excessive use of coffee, the strain of long hours of work with little sleep, the abnormal life in general which he had led for so many years, and this suspense about the ultimate decision of the woman he so adored, were weakening him physically.

In January, 1846, Madame Hanska was in Dresden again, and as was always the case when in that city, she wrote accusing him. This time the charge was that of indulging in ignoble gossip, and the reproach was so unjust that, without finishing the reading of the letter, he exposed himself for hours in the streets of Paris to snow, to cold and to fatigue, utterly crushed by this accusation of which he was so innocent. In his delicate physical condition, such shocks were conducive to cardiac trouble, especially since his heart had long been affected. After perusing the letter to the end, he reflected that these grievous words came not from her, but from strangers, so he poured forth his burning adoration, his longing for a home, where he could drink long draughts of a life in common, the life of two.

In the following March the passionate lover was drawn by his Predilecta to the Eternal City, and a few months later they were in Strasbourg, where a definite engagement took place. In October he joined her again, this time at Wiesbaden, to attend the marriage of Anna to the Comte George de Mniszech. This brief visit had a delightful effect: "From Frankfort to Forbach, I existed only in remembrance of you, going over my four days like a cat who has finished her milk and then sits licking her lips."

Madame Hanska had constantly refused to be separated from her daughter, but now Balzac hoped that he could hasten matters, so he applied to his boyhood friend, M. Germeau, prefect of Metz, to see if he, in his official capacity, could not waive the formality of the law and accelerate his marriage; but since all Frenchmen are equal before the etat-civil, this could not be accomplished.

It was during their extensive travels in 1846 that Balzac began calling the party "Bilboquet's troup of mountebanks": Madame Hanska became Atala; Anna, Zephirine; George, Gringalet; and Balzac, Bilboquet. Although Madame Hanska cautioned him about his extravagance in gathering works of art, he persisted in buying them while traveling, so it became necessary to find a home in which to place his collection. It is an interesting fact that while making this collection, he was writing Le Cousin Pons, in which the hero has a passion for accumulating rare paintings and curios with which he fills his museum and impoverishes himself. Balzac had purposed calling this book Le Parasite, but Madame Hanska objected to this name, which smacked so strongly of the eighteenth century, and he changed it. As he was also writing La Cousine Bette at this time, we can see not only that his power of application had returned to him, but that he was producing some of his strongest work.

For some time Balzac had been looking for a home worthy of his fiancee and had finally decided on the Villa Beaujon, in the rue Fortunee. Since this home was created "for her and by her," it was necessary for her to be consulted in the reconstruction and decoration of it, so he brought her secretly to Paris, and her daughter and son-in-law returned to Wierzchownia. This was not only a long separation for so devoted a mother and daughter, but there was some danger lest her incognito be discovered; Balzac, accordingly, took every precaution. It is easy to picture the extreme happiness of the novelist in conducting his Louloup over Paris, in having her near him while he was writing some of his greatest masterpieces, and, naturally, hoping that the everlasting debts would soon be defrayed and the marriage ceremony performed, but fortunately, he was not permitted to know beforehand of the long wait and the many obstacles that stood in his way.

Just what happened during the spring and summer of 1847 is uncertain, as few letters of this period exist in print. Miss Sandars (Balzac), states that about the middle of April Balzac conducted Madame Hanska to Forbach on her return to Wierzchownia, and when he returned to Paris he found that some of her letters to him had been stolen, 30,000 francs being demanded for them at once, otherwise the letters to be turned over to the Czar. Miss Sandars states also that this trouble hastened the progress of his heart disease, and that when the letters were eventually secured (without the payment) Balzac burned them, lest such a catastrophe should occur again. The Princess Radziwill says that the story of the letters was invented by Balzac and is ridiculous; also, that it angered her aunt because Balzac revealed his ignorance of Russian matters, by saying such things. Lawton (Balzac) intimates that Balzac and Madame Hanska quarreled, she being jealous and suspicious of his fidelity, and that he burned her letters. De Lovenjoul (Un Roman d'Amour) makes the same statement and adds that this trouble increased his heart disease. But he says also (La Genese d'un Roman de Balzac) that Madame Hanska spent two months secretly in Paris in April and May; yet, a letter written by Balzac, dated February 27, 1847, shows that she was in Paris at that time.

Balzac went to Wierzchownia in September, 1847, and traveled so expeditiously that he arrived there several days before his letter which told of his departure. When one remembers how he had planned with M. de Hanski more than ten years before to be his guest in this chateau, one can imagine his great delight now in journeying thither with the hope of accomplishing the great desire of his life. He was royally entertained at the chateau and was given a beautiful little suite of rooms composed of a salon, a sitting-room, and a bed-room.[*]

[*] This house, where all the mementos of Balzac, including his portrait, were preserved intact by the family, has been utterly destroyed by the Bolsheviks.

Regarding the vital question of his marriage, he writes his sister:

"My greatest wish and hope is still far from its accomplishment. Madame Hanska is indispensable to her children; she is their guide; she disentangles for them the intricacies of the vast and difficult administration of this property. She has given up everything to her daughter. I have known of her intentions ever since I was at St. Petersburg. I am delighted, because the happiness of my life will thus be freed from all self-interest. It makes me all the more earnest to guard what is confided to me. . . . It was necessary for me to come here to make me understand the difficulties of all kinds which stand in the way of the fulfilment of my desires."[*]

[*] The above shows that Balzac's ardent passion for his Predilecta was for herself alone, and that he was not actuated by his greed for gold, as has been stated by various writers.

During this visit, Balzac complained of the cold of Russia in January, but his friends were careful to provide him with suitable wraps. Business matters compelled him to return to Paris in February. In leaving this happy home, he must have felt the contrast in arriving in Paris during the Revolution, and having to be annoyed again with his old debts. This time, he went to his new home in the rue Fortunee, the home that had cost the couple so much money and was to cause him so much worry if not regret.

About the last of September, 1848, Balzac left Paris again for Russia, and his family did not hear from him for more than a month after his arrival. His mother was left with two servants to care for his home in the rue Fortunee, as he expected to return within a few months. It is worthy of note that in this first letter to her, he spoke of being in very good health, for immediately afterwards, he was seized with acute bronchitis, and was ill much of the time during his prolonged stay of eighteen months.

Madame Hanska planned to have him pay the debts on their future home as soon as the harvest was gathered, but concerning the most important question he writes:

"The Countess will make up her mind to nothing until her children are entirely free from anxieties regarding their fortune. Moreover, your brother's debts, whether his own, or those he has in common with the family, trouble her enormously. Nevertheless, I hope to return toward the end of August; but in no circumstance will I ever again separate myself from the person I love. Like the Spartan, I intend to return with my shield or upon it."

Things were very discouraging at Wierzchownia; Madame Hanska had failed to receive much money which she was to inherit from an uncle, and, in less than six weeks, four fires had consumed several farm houses and a large quantity of grain on the estate. Although they both were anxious to see the rue Fortunee, their departure was uncertain.

But the most distressing complication was the condition of Balzac's health, which was growing worse. He complained of the frightful Asiatic climate, with its excessive heat and cold; he had a perpetual headache, and his heart trouble had increased until he could not mount the stairs. But he had implicit faith in his physician, and with his usual hopefulness felt that he would soon be cured, congratulating himself on having two such excellent physicians as Dr. Knothe and his son. His surroundings were ideal, and each of the household had for him an attachment tender, filial and sincere. It was necessary to his welfare that his life should be without vexation, and he asked his sister to entreat their mother to avoid anything which might cause him pain.

On his part, he tried to spare his mother also from unpleasant news, and desired his sister to assist him in concealing from her the real facts. He had had another terrible crisis in which he had been ill for more than a month with cephalalgic fever, and he had grown very thin.

Though several of Balzac's biographers have criticized Madame Hanska most bitterly for holding Balzac in Russia, and some have even gone so far as to censure her for his early death, it will be remembered that his health had long begun to fail, and that no constitution could long endure the severe strain he had given his. No climate could help his worn-out body to a sufficient degree. Balzac himself praised the conduct of the entire Hanski family. The following is only one of his numerous testimonies to their devotion.

"Alas! I have no good news to send. In all that regards the affection, the tenderness of all, the desire to root out the evil weeds which encumber the path of my life, mother and children are sublime; but the chief thing of all is still subject to entanglements and delays, which make me doubt whether it is God's will that your brother should ever be happy, at least in that way; but as regards sincere mutual love, delicacy and goodness, it would be impossible to find another family like this. We live together as if there were only one heart amongst the four; this is repetition, but it cannot be helped, it is the only definition of the life I lead here."

The situation of the author of the Comedie humaine was at this time most pitiable. Broken in health and living in a climate to which his constitution refused to be acclimated,[*] weighed down by a load of debt which he was unable to liquidate in his state of health (his work having amounted to very little during his stay in Russia), consumed with a burning passion for the woman who had become the overpowering figure in the latter half of his literary career, possessing a pride that was making him sacrifice his very life rather than give up his long-sought treasure, the diamond of Poland, his very soul became so imbued with this devouring passion that the pour moujik was scarcely master of himself.

[*] Concerning the climate of Kieff, the Princess Radziwill says: "The story that the climate of Kieff was harmful to Balzac is also a legend. In that part of Russia, the climate is almost as mild as is the Isle of Wight, and Balzac, when he was staying with Madame Hanska, was nursed as he would never have been anywhere else, because not only did she love him with her whole heart, but her daughter and the latter's husband were also devoted to him."

His family were suffering various misfortunes, and these, together with his deplorable condition, caused Madame Hanska to contemplate giving up an alliance with a man whose family was so unfortunate and whose social standing was so far beneath hers. She preferred to remain in Russia where she was rich, and moved in a high aristocratic circle, rather than to give up her property and assume the life of anxiety and trials which awaited her as Madame Honore de Balzac.

At times he became most despondent; the long waiting was affecting him seriously, and he hesitated urging a life so shattered as was his upon the friend who, like a benignant star, had shone upon his path during the past sixteen years.

"If I lose all I have hoped to gain here, I should no longer live; a garret in the rue Lesdiguieres and a hundred francs a month would suffice for all I want. My heart, my soul, my ambition, all that is within me, desires nothing, except the one object I have had in view for sixteen years. If this immense happiness escapes me, I shall need nothing. I will have nothing. I care nothing for la rue Fortunee for its own sake; la rue Fortunee has only been created for her and by her."

The novelist was cautious in his letters lest there should be gossip about his secret engagement, and his possible approaching marriage. Apropos of his marriage, he would say that it was postponed for reasons which he could not give his family; Madame Hanska had met with financial losses again through fires and crop failures. With his continued illness, he had many things to trouble him.

But with all his trials, Balzac remained in many ways a child. After the terrible Moldavian fever which had endangered his life, in the fall of 1849 he took great pleasure in a dressing-gown of termolana cloth. He had wanted one of these gowns since he first saw this cloth at Geneva in 1834. Again he was ill, for twenty days, and his only amusement was in seeing Anna depart for dances in costumes of royal magnificence. The Russian toilettes were wonderful, and while the women ruined their husbands with their extravagance, the men ruined the toilettes of the ladies by their roughness. In a mazurka where the men contended for ladies' handkerchiefs, the young Countess had one worth about five hundred francs torn in pieces, but her mother repaired the loss by giving her another twice as costly.

The year 1850, which was to prove so fatal to Balzac, opened with a bad omen, had he realized it. His health, which he had never considered as he should have done, was seriously affected, and early in January another illness followed which kept him in bed for several days. He thought that he had finally become acclimated, but after another attack a few weeks later he concluded that the climate was impossible for nervous temperaments.

Such was, in brief, the story of his stay in Russia, but his optimism and devotion continued, and he writes:

"It is sanguine to think I could set off on March 15, and in that case I should arrive early in April. But if my long cherished hopes are realized, there would be a delay of some days, as I should have to go to Kieff, to have my passport regulated. These hopes have become possibilities; these four or five successive illnesses—the sufferings of a period of acclimatization—which my affection has enabled me to take joyfully, have touched this sweet soul more than the few little debts which remain unpaid have frightened her as a prudent woman, and I foresee that all will go well. In the face of this happy probability, the journey to Kieff is not to be regretted, for the Countess has nursed me heroically without once leaving the house, so you ought not to afflict yourself for the little delay which will thus be caused. Even in that case, my, or our, arrival would be in the first fortnight of April."

Until the very last, Balzac was very careful that his family should not announce his expected wedding. Finally, all obstacles overcome, the long desired marriage occurred March 14, 1850.[*]

[*] Though Balzac speaks of having to obtain the Czar's permission to marry, the Princess Radziwill states that no permission was required, asked or granted. Balzac always gave March 14, 1850, as the date of his marriage while de Lovenjoul and M. Stanislas Rzewuski give the date as April 15, 1850. The Princess Radziwill writes: "Concerning the date of Balzac's marriage, it was solemnized as he wrote it to his family on March 2_14_1850, at Berditcheff in Poland. Balzac, however, was a French subject, and as such had to be married according to the French civil law, by a French consul. There did not exist one in Berditcheff, so they had perforce to repair to Kieff for this ceremony. The latter took place on April 3_15 of the same year, and this explains the discrepancy of dates you mention which refer to two different ceremonies."

What must have been the novelist's feeling of triumph, after almost seventeen years of waiting, suffering and struggle, to write:

"Thus, for the last twenty-four hours there has been a Madame Eve de Balzac, nee Countess Rzewuska, or a Madame Honore de Balzac, or a Madame de Balzac the elder. This is no longer a secret, as you see I tell it to you without delay. The witnesses were the Countess Mniszech, the son-in-law of my wife, the Count Gustave Olizar, brother-in-law of the Abbe Czarouski, the envoy of the Bishop; and the cure of the parish of Berditcheff. The Countess Anna accompanied her mother, both exceedingly happy . . ."

With great joy and childish pride, Balzac informed his old friend and physician, Dr. Nacquart, who knew so well of his adoration for his "Polar Star" and his seventeen long years of untiring pursuit, that he had become the husband of the grandniece of Marie Leczinska and the brother-in-law of an aide-de-camp general of His Majesty the Emperor of all the Russias, the Count Adam Rzewuski, step-father of Count Orloff; the nephew of the Countess Rosalia Rzewuska, first lady of honor to Her Majesty the Empress; the brother-in-law of Count Henri Rzewuski, the Walter Scott of Poland as Mizkiewicz is the Polish Lord Byron; the father-in-law of Count Mniszech, of one of the most illustrious houses of the North, etc., etc.!

Though this was by far and away Balzac's greatest and most passionate love, the present writer cannot agree with the late Professor Harry Thurston Peck in the following dictum: "It was his first real love, and it was her last; and, therefore, their association realized the very characteristic aphorism which Balzac wrote in a letter to her after he had known her but a few short weeks: 'It is only the last love of a woman that can satisfy the first love of a man.'"

After their marriage, the homeward journey was delayed several weeks. The baggage, which was to be conveyed by wagon, only left April 2, and it required about two weeks for it to reach Radziwiloff, owing to the general thaw just set in. Then Balzac had a severe relapse due to lung trouble, and it was twelve days before he recovered sufficiently to travel. He had an attack of ophthalmia at Kieff, and could scarcely see; the Countess Anna fell ill with the measles, and her mother would not leave until the Countess recovered. They started late in April for what proved to be a terrible journey, he suffering from heart trouble, and she from rheumatism. On the way they stopped for a few days at Dresden, where Balzac became very ill again. His eyes were in such a condition that he could no longer see the letters he wrote. The following was written from Dresden, gives a glimpse of their troubles:

"We have taken a whole month to go a distance usually done in six days. Not once, but a hundred times a day, our lives have been in danger. We have often been obliged to have fifteen or sixteen men, with levers, to get us out of the bottomless mudholes into which we have sunk up to the carriage-doors. . . . At last, we are here, alive, but ill and tired. Such a journey ages one ten years, for you can imagine what it is to fear killing each other, or to be killed the one by the other, loving each other as we do. My wife feels grateful for all you say about her, but her hands do not permit her to write. . . ."

Madame de Balzac has been most severely criticized for her lack of affection for Balzac, and their married life has generally been conceded to have been very unhappy. This supposition seems to have been based largely on hearsay. Miss Sandars quotes from a letter written to her daughter on May 16 from Frankfort, in which, speaking of Balzac as "poor dear friend," she seems to be quite ignorant of his condition, and to show more interest in her necklace than in her husband. The present writer has not seen this unpublished letter; but a published letter dated a few days before the other, in which she not only refers to Balzac as her husband but shows both her affection for him and her interest in his condition, runs as follows:

"Hotel de Russie (Dresden). My husband has just returned; he has attended to all his affairs with a remarkable activity, and we are leaving to-day. I did not realize what an adorable being he is; I have known him for seventeen years, and every day, I perceive that there is a new quality in him which I did not know. If he could only enjoy health! Speak to M. Knothe about it, I beg you. You have no idea how he suffered last night! I hope his natal air will help him, but if this hope fails me, I shall be much to be pitied, I assure you. It is such happiness to be loved and protected thus. His eyes are also very bad; I do not know what all that means, and at times, I am very sad. I hope to give you better news to-morrow, when I shall write you."

Comments have been made on the fact that Balzac wrote his sister his wife's hands were too badly swollen from rheumatism to write and yet she wrote to her daughter, but there is a difference between a mother's letter to her only child, and one to a mother-in-law as hostile as she knew hers to be. She probably did not care to write, and Balzac, to smooth matters for her, gave this excuse.

The long awaited but tragic arrival took place late in the night of May 20, 1850. The home in the rue Fortunee was brilliantly lighted, and through the windows could be seen the many beautiful flowers arranged in accordance with his oft repeated request to his poor old mother. But alas! to their numerous tugs at the door-bell no response came, so a locksmith had to be sent for to open the doors. The minutest details of Balzac's orders for their reception had been obeyed, but the unfortunate, faithful Francois Munch, under the excitement and strain of the preparations, had suddenly gone insane.

Was this a sinister omen, or was it an exemplification of the old Turkish proverb, "The house completed, death enters"? Our hero's marriage proved to be the last of his illusions perdues, for only three months more were to be granted him. MM. Hanotaux et Vicaire have pertinently remarked that five years before his death, Balzac closed Les petites Miseres de la Vie conjugal with these prophetic words: "Who has not heard an Italian opera of some kind in his life? . . . You must have noticed, then, the musical abuse of the word felichitta lavished by the librettist and the chorus at the time every one is rushing from his box or leaving his stall. Ghastly image of life. One leaves it the moment the felichitta is heard." After so many years of waiting and struggle, he attained the summit of happiness, but was to obey the summons of death and leave this world just as the chorus was singing "Felichitta."

Some of Balzac's biographers have criticized Madame Honore de Balzac not only for having been heartless and indifferent towards him, but for having neglected him in his last days on earth. Her nephew, M. Stanislas Rzewuski, defended her, he said, not because she was his aunt but because of the injustice done to the memory of this poor etrangere, whose faithful tenderness, admiration and devotion had comforted the earthly exile of a man of genius. Balzac, realizing his hopeless condition, was despondent; his hopes were blighted, and his physical sufferings doubtless made him irritable. On the other hand, Madame de Balzac, however, seductive and charming, however worthy of being adored and being his "star," had a high temper. This was the natural temper of an aristocratic woman. It never passed the limits of decorum, but it was violent and easily provoked.[*] Then too, she had been accustomed to luxury and had never known poverty. She was ill also and probably disappointed in life.