des a little, and seems to
reveal a fatigue of the senses. Her chin is finely formed. Her
shoulders are magnificent; also her hands, her arms, her feet,
which are very small. George Sand is beautiful like the Venus of
Milo."

Now hear one who described her in old age:--

"She was not at all like the woman of my imagination; she looked
very little like the bold and vigorous thinker she is; one would
have taken her at first sight for a gentle, serene old grandmother.
She is short, and inclined to _embonpoint_. Her hair, which is
still abundant, though faded by time, was simply arranged. Her
features are not striking; her eyes have that vague, dreamy look
which she herself refers to in her 'Histoire de Ma Vie' as one of
her marked characteristics."

Most people in her youth found her beautiful, though some thought her
face heavy, and even coarse; but she had a matchless charm of manner
which had far more effect than any mere beauty. She seemed to enslave
men at her will. Poets, artists, statesmen, and priests, were all at her
side, or at her feet. Her manner, at least in later life, was very
retiring, and she was singularly modest and free from literary vanity.
When asked once which of her works she preferred, she answered,
apparently quite sincerely, "Mon Dieu, I detest them all."

Let us close with Matthew Arnold's tribute of respect:--

"It is silent, that eloquent voice; it is sunk, that noble, that
speaking head; we sum up as we best can what she said to us, and we
bid her adieu. From many hearts, in many lands, a troop of tender
and grateful regrets converge toward her humble churchyard in
Berry. Let them be joined by these words of sad homage from one of
a nation which she esteemed, and which knew her very little and
very ill. Her guiding thought, the guiding thought which she did
her best to make ours too, 'the sentiment of the ideal life, which
is none other than man's normal life as we shall one day know it,'
is in harmony with words and promises familiar to that sacred place
where she lies."

Over her grave might well be written those words over another grave in
Pere-la-Chaise:--

HE KNOWETH.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY.

In the beginning of the eighteenth century the great-grandfather of the
famous Lord Macaulay, the author of the glowing and