, to Mame, the publisher, and
is as poor as Job; with one lawsuit going on, and another beginning
for which he requires twelve hundred francs. His chronic state of
disagreement with Emile de Girardin, editor of _La Presse_, had at
this time, in spite of Madame de Girardin's attempts at mediation,
become acute; so that they nearly fought a duel. The year before, as
we have already seen, he had quarrelled with his former friend, Amedee
Pichot, and had deserted the _Revue de Paris_, so his business
relations were, as usual, not very happy.

However, he was at first much pleased with Madame Bechet, who, with
unexpected liberality, herself paid 4000 francs for corrections; and
in July, 1834, he got rid of publisher Gosselin, whom he politely
designates as a "nightmare of silliness," and a "rost-beaf ambulant,"
and started business with Werdet, not yet the "vulture who fed on
Prometheus," but an excellent young man, somewhat resembling
"l'illustre Gaudissart," full of devotion and energy.

The year 1833 was rich in masterpieces. In September appeared "Le
Medecin de Campagne," with its motto, "For wounded souls, shade and
silence"; and though, like "Louis Lambert," it was not at first a
success, later on its true value was realised; and the hero, the good
Dr. Benassis, is one of Balzac's purest and most noble creations. It
was followed in December by "Eugenie Grandet," a masterpiece of Dutch
genre, immortalised by the vivid vitality of old Grandet, that type of
modern miser who, in contradistinction to Moliere's Harpagon, enjoyed
universal respect and admiration, his fortune being to some people in
his province "the object of patriotic pride." The book raised such a
storm of enthusiasm, that Balzac became jealous for the fame of his
other works, and would cry indignantly: "Those who call me the father
of Eugenie Grandet wish to belittle me. It is a masterpiece, I know;
but it is a little masterpiece; they are very careful not to mention
the great ones."[*] This, which is the best known and most generally
admired of Balzac's novels, is dedicated by a strange irony of fate to
Maria, whose identity has never been discovered; the only fact really
known about her being her pathetic request to Balzac, that he would
love her just for a year, and she would love him for all eternity. She
did not, however, have undisputed possession of even the short time
she longed for, as Madame Hanska's all-conquering influence was in the
ascendant