the trowel
and the lyre.

This poetry of the working-classes was to give its admirers plenty of
disappointment. George Sand advised Poncy to treat the things connected
with his trade, in his poetry. "Do not try to put on other men's
clothes, but let us see you in literature with the plaster on your hands
which is natural to you and which interests us," she said to him.

Proud of his success with the ladies of Paris, Poncy wanted to wash
his hands, put on a coat, and go into society. It was all in vain that
George Sand beseeched Poncy to remain the poet of humanity. She exposed
to him the dogma of impersonality in such fine terms, that more than one
_bourgeois_ poet might profit by what she said.

"An individual," she said, "who poses as a poet, as a pure artist, as
a god like most of our great men do, whether they be _bourgeois_ or
aristocrats, soon tires us with his personality. . . . Men are only
interested in a man when that man is interested in humanity."

This was all of no use, though, for Poncy was most anxious to treat
other subjects rather more lively and--slightly libertine. His literary
godmother admonished him.

"You are dedicating to _Juana l'Espagnole_ and to various other
fantastical beauties verses that I do not approve. Are you a _bourgeois_
poet or a poet of the people? If the former, you can sing in honour of
all the voluptuousness and all the sirens of the universe, without ever
having known either. You can sup with the most delicious houris or
with all the street-walkers, in your poems, without ever leaving
your fireside or having seen any greater beauty than the nose of your
hall-porter. These gentlemen write their poetry in this way, and their
rhyming is none the worse for it. But if you are a child of the people
and the poet of the people, you ought not to leave the chaste breast of
Desiree, in order to run about after dancing-girls and sing about their
voluptuous arms."(38)

(38) See the letters addressed to Charles Poncy in the
_Correspondance._

It is to be hoped that Poncy returned to the chaste Desiree. But why
should he not read to the young woman the works of Pierre Leroux?
We need a little gaiety in our life. In George Sand's published
_Correspondance_, we only have a few of her letters to Charles Poncy.
They are all in excellent taste. There is an immense correspondence
which M. Rocheblave will publish later on. This will be a treat for us,
and it will no doubt prove t