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" She was a
clever woman and wrote a book "Masks and Buffoons." Maurice Sand
died in 1883. He was the son of his mother, who was gathered to
her heterogeneous ancestors June 8, 1876.
In literature George Sand is a feminine pendant to Jean Jacques
Rousseau, full of ill-digested, troubled, fermenting, social,
political, philosophical and religious speculations and theories.
She wrote picturesque French, smooth, flowing and full of color.
The sketches of nature, of country life, have positive value, but
where has vanished her gallery of Byronic passion-pursued women?
Where are the Lelias, the Indianas, the Rudolstadts? She had not,
as Mr. Henry James points out, a faculty for characterization. As
Flaubert wrote her: "In spite of your great Sphinx eyes you have
always seen the world as through a golden mist." She dealt in
vague, vast figures, and so her Prince Karol in "Lucrezia
Floriana," unquestionably intended for Chopin, is a burlesque--
little wonder he was angered when the precious children asked him
"Cher M. Chopin, have you read 'Lucrezia'? Mamma has put you in
it.


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