my father submitted me to a
strict discipline; he installed me in a room near his own study,
and I had to rise at five in the morning and retire at nine at
night. He intended me to take my law studies seriously. I attended
school, and read with an advocate as well; but my lectures and
work were so narrowly circumscribed by the laws of time and space,
and my father required of me such a strict account, at dinner,
that . . . In this manner I cowered under as strict a despotism as
a monarch's until I became of age."

In confirmation of this idea, Madame Ruxton[*] quotes Madame Barnier,
granddaughter of the Duchesse d'Abrantes, who knew both Balzac and his
mother, and who describes her as a cold, severe, superior, but
hard-hearted woman, just the opposite of her son. Balzac himself
states: "Never shall I cease to resemble Raphael in his garret."

[*] In _La Dilecta de Balzac_, Balzac states that he has described his
own life in _La Peau de Chagrin_. For a picture of Balzac's
unhappy childhood drawn by himself, see _Revue des deux Mondes_,
March 15, 1920.

After the death (June 1829) of her husband, Madame de Balzac lived
with her son at different intervals, and during his extended tour of
six months in 1832 she attended to the details of his business. With
her usual energy and extreme activity, she displayed her ability in
various lines, for she had to have dealings with his publisher, do
copying, consult the library,--sending him some books and buying
others,--have the servant exercise the horses, sell the horses and
carriage and dismiss the servant, arrange to have certain payments
deferred, send him money and consult the physician for him, not to
mention various other duties.

While Madame de Balzac was certainly requested to do far more than a
son usually expects of his mother, her tantalizing letters were a
source of great annoyance to him, as is seen in the following:

"What you say about my silence is one of those things which, to use
your expression, makes me grasp my heart with both hands; for it
is incredible I should be able to produce all I do. (I am obeying
the most rigorous necessity); so if I am to write, I ought to have
more time, and when I rest, I wish to lay down and not take up my
pen again. Really, my poor dear mother, this ought to be
understood between us once for all; otherwise, I shall have to
renounce all epistolary intercourse. . . . And this morni