wrote to a friend in March, 1836: "Our time is one in which action
destined to be decisive for a thousand years is being prepared. What
artillery did not accomplish at Leipzig must now be done by pens in
Paris."

During the first years of his sojourn in Paris Heine entered gleefully
into all the enjoyment and stimulation that the gay capital had to
offer. "I feel like a fish in water" is a common expression of
contentment with one's surroundings; but when one fish inquires after
the health of another, he now says, Heine told a friend, "I feel like
Heine in Paris." The well-accredited German poet quickly secured
admission to the circle of artists, journalists, politicians, and
reformers, and became a familiar figure on the boulevards. In October,
1834, be made the acquaintance of a young Frenchwoman, Crescence
Eugenie Mirat, or Mathilde, as he called her, and fell violently in
love with her. She was a woman of great personal attractiveness, but
entirely without education, frivolous, and passionate. They were soon
united; not for long, Heine thought, and he made efforts to escape
from her seductive charms, but ineffectually; and like Tannhäuser, he
was drawn back to his Frau Venus with an attachment passing all
understanding. From December, 1835, Heine regarded her as his wife,
and in 1841 they were married. But Mathilde was no good housekeeper;
Heine was frequently in financial straits; he quarreled with his
relatives, as well as with literary adversaries in Germany and
France; and only after considerable negotiation was peace declared,
and the continuation of a regular allowance arranged with Uncle
Salomon.

[Illustration: HEINRICH HEINE E. HADER]