The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1879-02-14
BalZa &C.

To be famous, to be beloved, these where the
'wo overmastering desires of his life. "Ere
cetebre etre ainoe" was the sigh be had breathed
alto the sympatbiziug ear Of that bsloved sig
'er, bis cherishet eunfdeate. dear to him as the
Augusta" OF so many charming verses was to
the unhappy author Of ,Ceilde Harold" OH
er visions besides those of glory had peonled
the nsd1Sarde of the Rue Lssdiguieres. Other
accents than the clarion voice of Fame had
sounded ia the ears of the lonely student
Through all the dreams of riches and honor
had sounded the low caressing tones of wc-
men, whose melodous music made that strong
heart beat with the timid tenderness OF q
child's Beautiful and passionate were the
ayes which seemed fixed upon him, mutely en-
couraging his labors. Through the thick mas
ses of his magnificent hair he felt the long
slender fingers glide with magnetic touch
fingers that appeared too fragile to bear the
weight of so mauy lustrous jewels. He grew
giddy, delirious, under the emotion awakened
by the presence of this aristocratic creature
her perfume, her satins, her lsces, the thous.
aud and one seductions of a coquette and
lady Of the great world! As yet, it was true,
when the time was come for her to put on q
living form she would not fail him then, lost as
the Oriental magnifcence and luxury which
was disdained to frame so charming a picture
would not fail either in its turn. Bslzac was q
fatalist, a goyapt. Hs possessed in an ex-
traordinary deeree that quality called by the
Scotch second sight,. An his life he had be-
lieved that some day he should become possess
sed of imm mense wealth, (thence all his wild
schemes for making fortune in five minutes J
and at last by singular stroke Of good luck no
did become millionar. He wos always Dur-
sued by the idea that he would be adored BY a
high-born aud beautiful woman; aud eventual
ly Polish Countess, young. exquisite, clever,
OF irreprOachsble character and enormous
wealte. fell msdly in love with him and mar
red him out Of hand. He knew that his name
would bscome byword for all time, so troub-
ling himself neither about the public who read
his volumes. nor the critics who criticised them
he went on working every day IS hours out of
the "a, fiDging his books into the face of an
expectant society as one would fling bone to
q hungry dog. Nature has endowed this man
with all the elements necessary to dominate
the world-s strong brain, strong body, and
an "infernaP courage, as he himself styles 1t
when be thinks of his Doysrty, his sacrifices,
those 13 years of the life of galley slave, vol
UNFAIRLY endured. Work vas the ailment up
on which his soul fed. Fatigue, either physi-
cal or mental, was unknown to this giant
The white hands like lady's, with tap4r dog
ers and flbert nails, delicately tinged with
rose color, that guided the inspired pen from
midnight until midday, was never aching and
cramped; the dark, bright, restless eyes Tin
themselves a world) looked only the brighter
and more piercing for their incesssnt vieils.
10 his tremendous energy and poUderous will
he resembled Martin Llther. whose stubborn
spirit of resistance could change the face of
society until the end of all time. For him
there were no terrible after-hours no moments
of lassitude and utter prostrstion when, Icsrus-
like, his treacherous wings gave way, aud he
was precip,tated, stunned and bleeding, back
to the earth, whence he had essayed to rise.
He ate aud drank like an auchorite, at least in
those fearful years of probation. Afterwsrd
we hear OF choice wines upon his table, and
dishes worthy OF the "Trois Freres," and the
contours of that heavy figure in the white fam
mel dressing gown becoming more rotund and
striking. Bot in the attic bread aud coffee and
nuts were the principal articles Of diet. the bill
of fare of "sn eremite's lone cell" He slept
only just sufficiently long to refresh his body.
Every moment spent in slumbrous unconscious
ness was a moment lost and gone forever-a
space of time infnitesimal, it is true, but still
retarding the hour Of triumph-the hour which,
If life remained, must one day dawn. Death,
the dread enemy, might lay his chIll hand on
that powerful frame bent over the writing table,
and put an instantsneous stop to am bitions,
dreams, desires, all-bsyond this nothing could
arrest the steady march OF those resolute feet,
which have promised themselves no rest uutil
they tread within the sacred precincts Of the
Temple Of Fame. What lesson to aspiring
youth in all ages is the history of the life and
labors of Houore de Balzac!-Temple Bar.