from compulsory inaction. He asked but for honest employment and the
privilege to work. She was so sensitive and felt so unworthy that she
did not call for her pension after it was secured for her by her
friends, Madame Recamier and M. de Latouche. A letter written by her
to Antoine de Latour (October 15, 1836) gives a general idea of her
life: "I do not know how I have slipped through so many shocks,--and
yet I live. My fragile existence slipped sorrowfully into this world
amid the pealing bells of a revolution, into whose whirlpool I was
soon to be involved. I was born at the churchyard gate, in the shadow
of a church whose saints were soon to be desecrated."

She was indeed a "tender and impassioned poetess, . . . one who united
an exquisite moral sensibility to a thrilling gift of song. . . . Her
verses were doubtless the expression of her life; in them she is
reflected in hues both warm and bright; they ring with her cries of
love and grief. . . . Hers was the most courageous, tender and
compassionate of souls."

A letter written to Madame Duchambye (December 7, 1841), shows what
part she played in Balzac's literary career:

"You know, my other self, that even ants are of some use. And so it
was I who suggested, not M. de Balzac's piece, but the notion of
writing it and the distribution of the parts, and then the idea of
Mme. Dorval, whom I love for her talent, but especially for her
misfortunes, and because she is dear to me. I have made such a
moan, that I have obtained the sympathy and assistance of--whom do
you guess?--poor Thisbe, who spends her life in the service of the
_litterrateur_. She talked and insinuated and insisted, until at
last he came up to me and said, 'So it shall be! My mind is made