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in her proper _role_； the _role_ of a woman。 The 〃tyrant〃 granted the favours she asked； and George Sand then came to the conclusion that he was a good sort of tyrant。 She was accused of treason； but she nevertheless continued to speak of him with gratitude。 She remained on good terms with the Imperial family； particularly with Prince Jerome； as she appreciated his intellect。 She used to talk with him on literary and philosophical questions。 She sent him two tapestry ottomans one year； which she had worked for him。 Her son Maurice went for a cruise to America on Prince Jerome's yacht； and he was the godfather of George Sand's little grandchildren who were baptized as Protestants。
George Sand deserves special mention for her science in the art of growing old。 It is not a science easy to master； and personally this is one of my reasons for admiring her。 She understood what a charm there is in that time of life when the voice of the passions is no longer heard； so that we can listen to the voice of things and examine the lesson of life； that time when our reason makes us more indulgent； when the sadness of earthly separations is softened by the thought that we shall soon go ourselves to join those who have left us。 We then begin to have a foretaste of the calmness of that Great Sleep which is to console us at the end of all our sufferings and grief。 George Sand was fully aware of the change that had taken place within her。 She said； several times over； that the age of impersonality had arrived for her。 She was delighted at having escaped from herself and at being free from egoism。 From henceforth she could give herself up to the sentiments which； in pedantic and barbarous jargon； are called altruistic sentiments。 By this we mean motherly and grandmotherly affection； devotion to her family； and enthusiasm for all that is beautiful and noble。 She was delighted when she was told of a generous deed； and charmed by a book in which she discovered talent。 It seemed to her as though she were in some way joint author of it。
〃My heart goes out to all that I see dawning or growing 。 。 。〃 she wrote； at this time。 〃When we see or read anything beautiful； does it not seem as though it belongs to us in a way； that it is neither yours nor mine； but that it belongs to all who drink from it and are strengthened by it？〃＇50＇
＇50＇ _Correspondance：_ To Octave Feuillet； February 27； 1859。
This is a noble sentiment； and less rare than is generally believed。 The public little thinks that it is one of the great joys of the writer； when he has reached a certain age； to admire the works of his fellow…writers。 George Sand encouraged her young _confreres_； Dumas _fils_； Feuillet and Flaubert； at the beginning of their career； and helped them with her advice。
We have plenty of information about her at this epoch。 Her intimate friends； inquisitive people and persons passing through Paris； have described their visits to her over and over again。 We have the impressions noted down by the Goncourt brothers in their _Jounal_。 We all know how much to trust to this diary。 Whenever the Goncourts give us an idea； an opinion； or a doctrine； it is as well to be wary in accepting it。 They were not very intelligent。 I do not wish； in saying this； to detract from them； but merely to define them。 On the other hand； what they saw； they saw thoroughly； and they noted the general look； the attitude or gesture with great care。
We give their impressions of George Sand。 In March； 1862； they went to call on her。 She was then living in Paris； in the Rue Racine。 They give an account of this visit in their diary。
〃_March_ 30； 1862。
〃On the fourth floor； No。 2； Rue Racine。 A little gentleman； very much like every one else； opened the door to us。 He smiled； and said： ‘Messieurs de Goncourt！' and then； opening another door； showed us into a very large room； a kind of studio。
〃There was a window at the far end； and the light was getting dim； for it was about five o'clock。 We could see a grey shadow against the pale light。 It was a woman； who did not attempt to rise； but who remained impassive to our bow and our words。 This seated shadow； looking so drowsy； was Madame Sand； and the man who opened。 the door was the engraver Manceau。 Madame Sand is like an automatic machine。 She talks in a monotonous； mechanical voice which she neither raises nor lowers； and which is never animated。 In her whole attitude there is a sort of gravity and placidness； something of the half…asleep air of a person ruminating。 She has very slow gestures； the gestures of a somnambulist。 With a mechanical movement she strikes a wax match； which gives a flicker； and lights the cigar she is holding between her lips。
〃Madame Sand was extremely pleasant； she praised us a great deal； but with a childishness of ideas； a platitude of expression and a mournful good…naturedness that was as chilling as the bare wall of a room。 Manceau endeavoured to enliven the dialogue。 We talked of her theatre at Nohant； where they act for her and for her maid until four in the morning。 。 。 。 We then talked of her prodigious faculty for work。 She told us that there was nothing meritorious in that； as she had always worked so easily。 She writes every night from one o'clock until four in the morning； and she writes again for about two hours during the day。 Manceau explains everything； rather like an exhibitor of phenomena。 ‘It is all the same to her；' he told us； ‘if she is disturbed。 Suppose you turn on a tap at your house； and some one comes in the room。 You simply turn the tap off。 It is like that with Madame Sand。'〃
The Goncourt brothers were extremely clever in detracting from the merits of the people about whom they spoke。 They tell us that George Sand had 〃a childishness in her ideas and a platitude of expression。〃 They were unkind without endeavouring to be so。 They ran down people instinctively。 They were eminently literary men。 They were also artistic writers； and had even invented 〃artistic writing；〃 but they had very little in common with George Sand's attitude of mind。 To her the theory of art for the sake of art had always seemed a very hollow theory。 She wrote as well as she could； but she never dreamed of the profession of writing having anything in common with an acrobatic display。
In September； 1863； the Goncourt brothers again speak of George Sand； telling us about her life at Nohant； or rather putting the account they give into the mouth of Theophile Gautier。 He had just returned from Nohant； and he was asked if it was amusing at George Sand's。
〃Just as amusing as a monastery of the Moravian brotherhood；〃 he replies。 〃I arrived there in the evening； and the house is a long way from the station。 My trunk was put into a thicket； and on arriving I entered by the farm in the midst of all the dogs； which gave me a fright。 。 。 。〃
As a matter of fact； Gautier's arrival at Nohant had been quite a dramatic poem； half tragic and half comic。 Absolute freedom was the rule of Nohant。 Every one there read； wrote； or went to sleep according to his own will and pleasure。 Gautier arrived in that frame of mind peculiar to the Parisian of former days。 He considered that he had given a proof of heroism in venturing outside the walls of Paris。 He therefore expected a hearty welcome。 He was very much annoyed at his reception； and was about to start back again immediately； when George Sand was informed of his arrival。 She was extremely vexed at what had happened； and exclaimed； 〃But had not any one told him how stupid I am！〃
The Goncourt brothers asked Gautier what life at Nohant was like。
〃Luncheon is at ten；〃 he replied； 〃and when the finger was on the hour； we all took our seats。 Madame Sand arrived； looking like a somnambulist； and remained half asleep all through the meal。 After luncheon we went into the garden and played at _cochonnet_。 This roused her； and she would then sit down and begin to talk。〃
It would have been more exact to say that she listened； as she was not a great talker herself。 She had a horror of a certain kind of conversation； of that futile； paradoxical and spasmodic kind which is the speciality of 〃brilliant talkers。〃 Sparkling conversation of this sort disconcerted her and made her feel ill at ease。 She did not like the topic to be the literary profession either。 This exasperated Gautier； who would not admit of there being anything else in the world but literature。
〃At three o'clock；〃 he continued； 〃Madame Sand went away to write until six。 We then dined； but we had to dine quickly； so that Marie Caillot would have time to dine。 Marie Caillot is the servant； a sort of little Fadette whom Madame Sand had discovered in the neighbourhood for playing her pieces。 This Marie Caillot used to come into the drawing…room in the evening。 After dinner Madame Sand would play patience； without uttering a word； until midnight。 。 。 。 At midnight she began to write again until four o'clock。 。 。 。 You know what happened once。 Something monstrous。 She finished a novel at one o'clock in the morning； and began another during the night。 。 。 。 To make copy is a function with Madame Sand。〃
The marionette theatre w