.

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 a