of his career and past misfortunes,
which is evidently intended to counteract any misgivings Madame Hanska
may feel at his sternness as depicted in the portrait.

"Boulanger has seen the writer only,[*] not the tenderness of the
idiot who will always be deceived, not the softness towards other
people's troubles which cause all my misfortunes to come from my
holding out my hand to weak people who are falling into disaster. In
1827 I help a working printer, and therefore in 1829 find myself
crushed by fifty thousand francs of debt, and thrown without bread
into a gutter. In 1833, when my pen appears to be likely to bring in
enough to pay off my obligations, I attach myself to Werdet. I wish to
make him my only publisher, and in my desire to bring him prosperity,
I sign engagements, and in 1837 find myself owing a hundred and fifty
thousand francs, and liable on this account to be put under arrest, so
that I am obliged to hide. During this time I make myself the Don
Quixote of the poor. I hope to give courage to Sandeau, and I lose
through him four to five thousand francs, which would have saved other
people." It would be interesting to hear what Barbier and Werdet would
have said, if they had been allowed to read this letter; but on
Browning's principle, that a man should show one side to the world,
and the other to the woman he loves, no doubt Balzac's account of past
events was quite justifiable.

[*] "Lettres a l'Etrangere."

Boulanger's picture gave Balzac a great deal of trouble, as well as
delighted yet anxious speculation about Madame Hanska's opinion of it,
when it arrived in Wierzchownia. This was naturally an important
matter, his meetings with her being so rare that, except his letters,
the picture would generally be her only reminder of him; and for this
reason it was most necessary that it should show him at his best. It
was therefore very trying that Boulanger should have exaggerated the
character of his quiet strength, and made him look like a bully and a
soldier; and we can enter thoroughly into his feelings, and sympathise
heartily with his uneasiness, because Boulanger has not quite caught
the fineness of contour under the fatness of the face. Undoubtedly,
the picture does not give the idea of a person of extreme refinement,
or distinction of appearance. Nevertheless, judging from stories told
by his contemporaries, and also from some of the books written by the
great novelist, it seems likely that Bo