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Xt any book Could be expected , from tlie antecedents of its author , to excite an interest in all the literary circles of Europe , sufficient to attract to it whatever degree of attention can be spared at present for a literary topic , it is Madame George Sand ' s Autobiography . The manner of the appearance of this long-expected work , however , is unfortunate . Printed in short successive instalments as the Feuilleton of La Presse newspaper , it conies before one tmder great disadvantages . Our French neighbours must be differently constituted from us , to be able to tolerate these newspaper-feuilletons at all . A continued story in a magazine , or in Dickens ' s Hottsehold Words , is uncomfortable enough ; a novel continued from day to day in the Times is an titter impossibility , until a coup-d ' etat in Britain , followed by a settled
despdtism , shall create the necessary leisure throughout the community ; but , tinder no circumstances , would British readers , accustomed to the luxury of good thick paper and clear type , take pleasure in . a novel or biography printed by instalments on the thin , dingy , semi-transparent sheets on which Madame Sand ' s History of My Life is now being doled out to the contented Parisians . The woist of it is , that we must wait for the conclusion of the Autobiography in the columns of the Presse before we can have it in any more satisfactory forin . Till then , translation into English , and reproduction in any shape in France , are prohibited * Against this inconvenience is , of course , to be set the fact , that by the present mode of publication , Madame SAito receives a far more handsome recompense fox her work than could otherwise have come to her .
Glancing over what has already appeared of the Autobiography in the colilmns of the Presse , we must confess to a certain degree of disappointment . JTot that we at all object to Madame Sard's distinct intimation that she does not mean to gratify the curiosity of the scandal-loving part of society by entering into details with respect to those facts of her life iipon which gossip has already fastened , as if they and they alone constituted her title to celebrity—her marriage with . M . 1 ) u » bvant , and her subsequent separation from him . On these points Madame Sand speaks with much
sense and good taste . She declares that many of the popular impressions respecting her husband are ptirely mythical . There was no disparity of age between them 5 and he was not a man of title . " M . FuANgois Dudevaut , " she says , "has never been anything but a sub-lieutena . nt of infantry , and was only twenty-seven when I married him . " She protests also against being supposed to sympathise -with those who , knowing nothing of the circumstances , but making themselves her apologists , think they serve her * cause by attacks on her husband . The following is her explicit statement on this head :- " -
My lmsband is living , and reads neither my writings nor the writings of others concerning me . The more reason , therefore , that I should protest against tho attacks on my behalf of which he is the object . I could not live with him—our characters and ideas differed essentially . He had his reasons for not consenting to a legal separation , though ho still felt the necessity of it—since , in Fact , it existed . Imprudent advisers induced him to provoke those public arguments which constrained us , one to accuse the other , —miserable result of an imperfect legislation , which the future will amend . Since the separation has been pronounced and maintained , I have made haste to forget my grievances , in bo much that any public recrimination against him seems to me in bad taste , and creates a "belief in the persistence of resentineaits not partaken of by me .
This is very juat and proper ; and they can have a very inadequate idea of George Sand who do not believe that , even with tho omission of all intimate revelations respecting the episode of her marriage , her Autobiography may yet be full of matters of extraordinary interest , and unusually instructive . In tho life of such a woman—a woman of genius who has been in tho midst of tho newest thought and the ' most stirring activity of her timethere arc surely other elements of interest , if people will but have healthy tastes , than any arising from tho story of her relations with M . Fb . AjN # oi 8 D u » bvant . So far as tho Autobiography has yet proceeded , however , wo cannot say that tho interest comes out very substantially or massivoly . Down to the fifth chapter—which is tho last wo have seen , and which appeared in
tho Presse of October tho 20 th—the authoress is still only preluding among her pi * ogenitors ; narrating stray facts and traditions roapecting thorn , nnd interweaving threads of phantasy and reflection . Madame Sakd whs "born in 1804 , but she goes back in her history to her grandfathers and grandmothers , or even farther ; and in lier last chapter she is still cngiiged with family reminiscences belonging to the times of the Revolution and the Directory . By tho father ' s side Madamo Sand , - \ vhoso maiden name is Amantiwe-Lucims-Auuorh Dunn , has royal blood in her veins 5 hor father ' s mother
having boon tho natural damghtor of Count Maurice of Saxony , by an operasinger , Mdllo . Vorridrcs ; and this Count Matjtuok agnin having been tho natural son of Fiuaxusiuon Augustus of Saxony and tho colobratod Countess of Koenigsmark . On tho other hand , her unothor was ft poor child of Paris * the daughter of Awtoinw Diar-AnoDCR , a bird-fancier . In tho persons and incidents of this complex genealogy tboro arc , of course , materials for a varied introduction to M « ulame SwVni >' s own life ; and aomo of the sketches which ah © glvos are most picturesque and charming , though soft and < juiot iu colour . A certain lightness and want of sequence , however , tends to impart
a fantastic and air-hung character to the book , while the remarks interspersed , by way of philosophy , though often suggestive a » d happy , are not always very firm nor powerful . Here is a passage referring to her father in . his youth : — The poor child had never yet quitted his mother . He had never known , never foreseen grief . He was beautiful as a flower , chaste and gentle as a young * lrl . He was sixteen years of age ; his health was still delicate , his mitid keen . At t&is age a boy brought up by a tender mother is a being apart in creation . He does not belong , so to speak , to any sex ; his thoughts are pure as those of an angel ; he has not that puerile coquetry , that unquiet curiosity , that easily offended personality which often torment the first development of the woman . He loves his mother as a daughter does not , and never can , love her . Drowned in the happiness of being cherished Without a rival , and adoringly cared for , he regards his mother as the object of kind of rshi It is love t t
a wop . , withouhe storms and fau lts which , later , the love of another woman will bring in its train . Yes , it is ideal love , and it has but one moment in . a man ' s life . Yesterday he took no heed of it , and lived as yet in the numbness of a sweet instinct ; to-morrow it will already be a love troubled or distracted by other passions , or , perhaps , in strife with the ruling attraction of a beloved one . * * * I find that poets and romancers have not sufficiently attended to this subject of observation , this source of poetry which is offered in . this transient and unique moment in the life of a man . It is time , in our sad actual world , genuine youth has no existence , or is produced in an exceptional manner . The youth we daily see is a collegian , ill-combed , ill enough instructed , infected by some gross vice which has already destroyed in him the holiness of the first ideal . Or if , by miracle , the poor boy has escaped this pest of the schools , it is impossible that he can have preserved the purity of imagination and the sacred ignorance of his age . On the contrary , he nourishes a sullen hatred against his companions , who have sought tomislead him , or against the gaolers , -who keep him down . He is ugly , even when .
nature has made him beautiful ; he is slovenly in his dress ; he has a sheepish air ,, and does not look you in the face . He devours in secret improper books , and yet the sight of a woman puts him in fear . His mother's caresses make him blush . On ^ might say he knew himself to be a culprit . The most beautiful . languages in the world , the greatest poems of humanity , are to him but a subject of lassitude , of revolt , and of disgust ; nourished , sulkily and without intelligence , with the purest aliments , he has a depraved taste , and aspires only after the bad . It takes him years to lose the fruits of this detestable education ; to learn his own tongue while studying Latin , which he knows ill , and Greek , which he does not know at all ; to form his taste ; to acquire a just notion of history ; to lose the marks of ugliness which a thwarted boyhood and the embruting influence of slavery have stamped on his face ; to look about frankly , and hold Ms head erect . * * * In principle , I acknowledge the advantages of public education . In fact , as it is ^ at present practised , I do not hesitate to say that anything is better in the shape of education , even that of children spoilt at home .
This passage , we must say , commends itself to us only in part . It is rather thin in style , and there is a tinge of unreality , along with its truth . On the whole , however , the descriptive passages are more pleasant than these passages of reflection ; and , as Madame Sand comes down to the substantial history of her own experiences , -we doubt not that the power we now miss iu these early chapters of her Autobiography will make itself felt .
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Lord John Rosskll ' s two educational speeches—the one at the Literary Institution of Bedford , last week , and the other last Wednesday , at the opening of the new Bristol A . thenoeum—deserve praise in this respect , that they did not consist of the ordinary generalities stereotyped for such occasions , but were made up each of one specific idea , deemed by his Lordship suitable for his audience and for the public at large . In fact , Lord John has used the opportunities afforded him to throw out two " Russellisms" for general consideration . The Russellism of last week , administered to the Bedford people , consisted in a suggestion whether , after all , the doctrine of the inevitable decline of great nations and empires—a doctrine brought home to the British heart and made picturesque by Mr . Macaulay ' s famous fancy
of the future New Zealander sitting on a broken arch of London Bridge and contemplating tho ruins of St . Paul ' s—is really beyond question . Lord John gave some reasons against the doctrine , and hinted hopes of the perpetuity of London and all its bridges , and of British greatness generally . We dare say Mr . Macatnlay could have pounded his reasons into dust ; , still , here was a distinct idea , if not very originally or powerfully treated , and Lord John deserves praiso for ventilating it . Then , again , the other Russellism—that of this week , propounded at Bi'istol—has also an
educational value . It consisted of a strenuous recommendation of the study of British History as a natural and useful study for citizens of Great Britain ,. and an accompanying assertion of the curious fact that a really good History of Great Britain is still a , desideratum in our national literature . Illustrating this idea , Lord John criticised Da . vii > Hume ' s ' History' in a stylo which may bo characterised as certainly one or two removes from commonplace , Here also his Lordship had . tho merit of being specific . He said something not bad in itself , which was sure to bo remembered—one of the requisites of every speech .
rho two Russellisms thus let loose amongst us will not fire the water under the bridge alluded to or give any appreciable impulse to tho speculation of tho age . Hut we welcome thorn , and should be glad , at his lordship ' s loisuro , to have more such . Lon » John ' s head scorns to go out in directions in which liis body has not strength to follow—i . e ., his thoughts aro in advance of his words , and his words , again , a long way in advance of his actions . Ho haa genuine sympathies with tho cause of popular oduoation , and he haa more notions on tho subject than ho can put into statesmanship . But oven his lordship gives in too much to a common cant on this subject . Tho increase among us oi popular ability and education is tho usual text at such meetings us those at which Lorw John is jpresont , and ho did more than quote it ; lie preached a Httia on it . Wow , there in much that is questionable in this modes of talking . TcBt tho alleged improvement of tho tastes of tho reading classes by referring
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Critics are siot the legislators , but the ju . dges and police of literature . They do ilOt Uia'Tse laMrs—they interpret and try to enforce them .. —Edinburgh JReview .
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1032 THE LEADER . [ Saturday ,
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Citation
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Leader (1850-1860), Oct. 28, 1854, page 1022, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/l/issues/vm2-ncseproduct2062/page/14/
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