justice. Story followed story from 1835 to 1837--each
filled with passionate, magnificent writing, and selling with great
rapidity. Her style was brilliant and elegant, and appealed to the
French taste with great success.

In 1836 George Sand assumed her old name, that she might demand from her
husband her fortune and children. It was proved upon trial that he had
treated her with brutality in the presence of her children, and in her
absence had lived shamefully, and the judge gave back to Madame Dudevant
her children and her fortune. The children accompanied their mother to
Paris, where she superintended their education. She now became intimate
with M. Lamnenais and went so far as to repudiate the bad sentiments of
many of her books. An end however soon came to her friendship for
Lamnenais, and they separated in anger, and hating each other heartily.
She now wrote and published several Socialistic novels, which met with a
poor sale in comparison with that of some of her previous works. In
fact, for the last ten years, her works have been decreasing in sale. In
the revolution of 1848, George Sand took side with the republicans. At
present she resides almost entirely at the chateau Nahant, where she has
erected a little theater in which her pieces (for she wrote for the
stage) are acted previous to their being brought out in Paris. Her
income is from ten to twelve thousand francs a year, and her life is
pleasant and patriarchal. She gathers the villagers round her, invites
them to her table, and instructs them. She once took into her house a
woman covered with leprosy, who was cast off by all others, and with her
own hand ministered to her wants, dressed her sores, and nursed her
until she was cured. George Sand lives in a plain style, clinging to
everything which recalls her early life and her love of early friends.
She sleeps but five or six hours. At eleven the breakfast bell rings.
Her son Maurice presides at the table in her absence. She eats little,
taking coffee morning and evening. The most of her time she devotes to
literary labors. After breakfast she walks in the park; a little wood
bordering upon a meadow is her favorite promenade. After half an hour's
walk she returns to her room, leaving everyone to act as he pleases.
Dinner takes place at six, which is a scene of more careful etiquette
than the breakfast table. She walks again after dinner, and returns to
the piano, for she is fond of music. The evening is