george sand-第3部分

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　good　society　to　be　educated。　　In　1817；　_the　Couvent　des　Anglaises_　was　in　vogue；　the　very　convent　which　had　served　as　a　prison　for　the　mother　and　grandmother　of　Aurore。　　The　three　years　she　spent　there　in　that　〃big　feminine　family；　where　every　one　was　as　kind　as　God；〃　she　considered　the　most　peaceful　and　happy　time　of　her　life。　　The　pages　she　devotes　to　them　in　her　_Histoire　de　ma　vie_　have　all　the　freshness　of　an　oasis。　　She　describes　most　lovingly　this　little　world；　apart；　exclusive　and　self…sufficing；　in　which　life　was　so　intense。

The　house　consisted　of　a　number　of　constructions；　and　was　situated　in　the　neighbourhood　given　up　to　convents。　　There　were　courtyards　and　gardens　enough　to　make　it　seem　like　a　small　village。　　There　was　also　a　labyrinth　of　passages　above　and　underground；　just　as　in　one　of　Anne　Radcliffe's　novels。　　There　were　old　walls　overgrown　with　vine　and　jasmine。　　The　cock　could　be　heard　at　midnight；　just　as　in　the　heart　of　the　country；　and　there　was　a　bell　with　a　silvery　tone　like　a　woman's　voice。　　From　her　little　cell；　Aurore　looked　over　the　tops　of　the　great　chestnut　trees　on　to　Paris；　so　that　the　air　so　necessary　for　the　lungs　of　a　child　accustomed　to　wanderings　in　the　country　was　not　lacking　in　her　convent　home。　　The　pupils　had　divided　themselves　into　three　categories：　　the　_diables_；　the　good　girls；　who　were　the　specially　pious　ones；　and　the　silly　ones。　　Aurore　took　her　place　at　once　among　the　_diables_。　　The　great　exploit　of　these　convent　girls　consisted　in　descending　into　the　cellars；　during　recreation；　and　in　sounding　the　walls；　in　order　to　〃deliver　the　victim。〃　　There　was　supposed　to　be　an　unfortunate　victim　imprisoned　and　tortured　by　the　good；　kindhearted　Sisters。　　Alas！　all　the　_diables_　sworn　to　the　task　in　the　_Couvent　des　Anglaises_　never　succeeded　in　finding　the　victim；　so　that　she　must　be　there　still。

Very　soon；　though；　a　sudden　change…took　place　in　Aurore's　soul。　　It　would　have　been　strange　had　it　been　otherwise。　　With　so　extraordinarily　sensitive　an　organization；　the　new　and　totally　different　surroundings　could　not　fail　to　make　an　impression。　　The　cloister；　the　cemetery；　the　long　services；　the　words　of　the　ritual；　murmured　in　the　dimly…lighted　chapel；　and　the　piety　that　seems　to　hover　in　the　air　in　houses　where　many　prayers　have　been　offered　up　all　this　acted　on　the　young　girl。　　One　evening　in　August；　she　had　gone　into　the　church；　which　was　dimly　lighted　by　the　sanctuary　lamp。　　Through　the　open　window　came　the　perfume　of　honeysuckle　and　the　songs　of　the　birds。　　There　was　a　charm；　a　mystery　and　a　solemn　calm　about　everything；　such　as　she　had　never　before　experienced。　　〃I　do　not　know　what　was　taking　place　within　me；〃　she　said；　when　describing　this；　later　on；　〃but　I　breathed　an　atmosphere　that　was　indescribably　delicious；　and　I　seemed　to　be　breathing　it　in　my　very　soul。　　Suddenly；　I　felt　a　shock　through　all　my　being；　a　dizziness　came　over　me；　and　I　seemed　to　be　enveloped　in　a　white　light。　　I　thought　I　heard　a　voice　murmuring　in　my　ear：　　_‘Tolle　Lege。'_　I　turned　round；　and　saw　that　I　was　quite　alone。　。　。　。〃

Our　modern　_psychiatres_　would　say　that　she　had　had　an　hallucination　of　hearing；　together　with　olfactory　trouble。　　I　prefer　saying　that　she　had　received　the　visit　of　grace。　　Tears　of　joy　bathed　her　face　and　she　remained　there；　sobbing　for　a　long　time。

The　convent　had　therefore　opened　to　Aurore　another　world　of　sentiment；　that　of　Christian　emotion。　　Her　soul　was　naturally　religious；　and　the　dryness　of　a　philosophical　education　had　not　been　sufficient　for　it。　　The　convent　had　now　brought　her　the　aliment　for　which　she　had　instinctively　longed。　　Later　on；　when　her　faith；　which　had　never　been　very　enlightened；　left　her；　the　sentiment　remained。　　This　religiosity；　of　Christian　form；　was　essential　to　George　Sand。

The　convent　also　rendered　her　another　eminent　service。　　In　the　_Histoire　de　ma　vie_；　George　Sand　retraces　from　memory　the　portraits　of　several　of　the　Sisters。　　She　tells　us　of　Madame　Marie…Xavier；　and　of　her　despair　at　having　taken　the　vows；　of　Sister　Anne…Joseph；　who　was　as　kind　as　an　angel　and　as　silly　as　a　goose；　of　the　gentle　Marie…Alicia；　whose　serene　soul　looked　out　of　her　blue　eyes；　a　mirror　of　purity；　and　of　the　mystical　Sister　Helene；　who　had　left　home　in　spite　of　her　family；　in　spite　of　the　supplications　and　the　sobs　of　her　mother　and　sisters；　and　who　had　passed　over　the　body　of　a　child　on　her　way　to　God。　　It　is　like　this　always。　　The　costumes　are　the　same；　the　hands　are　clasped　in　the　same　manner；　the　white　bands　and　the　faces　look　equally　pale；　but　underneath　this　apparent　uniformity　what　contrasts！　　It　is　the　inner　life　which　marks　the　differences　so　vigorously；　and　shows　up　the　originality　of　each　one。　　Aurore　gradually　discovered　the　diversity　of　all　these　souls　and　the　beauty　of　each　one。　　She　thought　of　becoming　a　nun；　but　her　confessor　did　not　advise　this；　and　he　was　certainly　wise。　　Her　grandmother；　who　had　a　philosopher's　opinion　of　priests；　blamed　their　fanaticism；　and　took　her　little　granddaughter　away　from　the　convent。　　Perhaps　she　felt　the　need　of　affection　for　the　few　months　she　had　still　to　live。　　At　any　rate；　she　certainly　had　this　affection。　　One　of　the　first　results　of　the　larger　perspicacity　which　Aurore　had　acquired　at　the　convent　was　to　make　her　understand　her　grandmother　at　last。　　She　was　able　now　to　grasp　the　complex　nature　of　her　relative　and　to　see　the　delicacy　hidden　under　an　appearance　of　great　reserve。　　She　knew　now　all　that　she　owed　to　her　grandmother；　but　unfortunately　it　was　one　of　those　discoveries　which　are　made　too　late。


The　eighteen　months　which　Aurore　now　passed　at　Nohant；　until　the　death　of　her　grandmother；　are　very　important　as　regards　her　psychological　biography。　　She　was　seventeen　years　old；　and　a　girl　who　was　eager　to　live　and　very　emotional。　　She　had　first　been　a　child　of　Nature。　　Her　convent　life　had　taken　her　away　from　Nature　and　accustomed　her　to　falling　back　on　her　own　thoughts。　　Nature　now　took　her　back　once　more；　and　her　beloved　Nohant　feted　her　return。

〃The　trees　were　in　flower；〃　she　says；　〃the　nightingales　were　singing；　and；　in　the　distance；　I　could　hear　the　classic；　solemn　sound　of　the　labourers。　　My　old　friends；　the　big　dogs；　who　had　growled　at　me　the　evening　before；　recognized　me　again　and　were　profuse　in　their　caresses。　。　。　。〃

She　wanted　to　see　everything　again。　　The　things　themselves　had　not　changed；　but　her　way　of　looking　at　them　now　was　different。　　During　her　long；　solitary　walks　every　morning；　she　enjoyed　seeing　the　various　landscapes；　sometimes　melancholy…looking　and　sometimes　delightful。　　She　enjoyed；　too；　the　picturesqueness　of　the　various　things　she　met；　the　flocks　of　cattle；　the　birds　taking　their　flight；　and　even　the　sound　of　the　horses'　feet　splashing　in　the　water。　　She　enjoyed　everything；　in　a　kind　of　voluptuous　reverie　which　was　no　longer　instinctive；　but　conscious　and　a　trifle　morbid。

Added　to　all　this；　her　reading　at　this　epoch　was　without　any　order　or　method。　　She　read　everything　voraciously；　mixing　all　the　philosophers　up　together。　　She　read　Locke；　Condillac；　Montesquieu；　Bossuet；　Pascal；　Montaigne；　but　she　kept　Rousseau　apart　from　the　others。　　She　devoured　the　books　of　the　moralists　and　poets；　La　Bruyere；　Pope；　Milton；　Dante；　Virgil；　Shakespeare。　　All　this　reading　was　too　much　for　her　and　excited　her　brain。　　She　had　reserved　Chateaubriand's　_Rene_；　and；　on　reading　that；　she　was　overcome　by　the　sadness　which　emanates　from　these　distressing　pages。　　She　was　disgusted　with　life；　and　attempted　to　commit　suicide。　　She　tried　to　drown　herself；　and　only　owed　her　life　to　the　healthy…mindedness　of　the　good　mare　Colette；　as　the　horse　evidently　had　not　the　same　reasons　as　its　young　mistress　for　wishing　to　put　an　end　to　its　days。

All　this　time　Aurore　was　entirely　free　to　please　herself。　　Deschartres；　who　had　always　treated　her　as　a　boy；　encouraged　her　independence。　　It　was　at　his　instigation　that　she　dressed　in　masculine　attire　to　go　out　shooting。　　People　began　to　talk　about　her　〃eccentricities〃　at　Landerneau；　and　the　gossip　continued　as　far　as　La　Chatre。　　Added　to　this；　Aurore　began　to　study　osteology　with　a　young　man　who　lived　in　the　neighbourhood；　and　it　was　said　that　this　young　man；　Stephane　Ajasson　de　Grandsaigne；　gave　her　lessons　in　her　own　room。　　This　was　the　climax。

We　have　a　curious　testimony　as　regards　the　state　of　the　young　girl's　mind　at　this　epoch。　　A　review；　entitled　_Le　Voile　de　pourpre_；　published　recently；　in　its　first　number；　a　letter　from　Aurore　to　her　mother；　dated　November　18；　1821。　　Her　mother　had　evidently　written　to　her　on　hearing　the　gossip　about　her；　and　had　probably　enlarged　upon　it。

〃You　reproach　me；　mother；　with　neither　having　timidity；　modesty；　nor　charm；〃　she　writes；　〃or　at　least　you　suppose　that　I　have　these　qualities；　but　that　I　refrain　from　showing　them；　and　you　are　quite　certain　that　I　have　no　outward　decency　nor　decorum。　　You　ought　to　know　me　before　judging　me　in　this　way。　　You　would　then　be　able　to　form　an　opinion　about　my　conduct。　　Grandmother　is　here；　and；　ill　though　she　is；　she　watches　over　me　carefully　and　lovingly；　and　she　would　not　fail　to　correct　me　if　she　considered　that　I　had　the　manners　of　a　dragoon　or　of　a　hussar。〃

She　considered　that　she　had　no　need　of　any　one　to　guide　or　protect　her；　and　no　need　of　leading…strings。

〃I　am　seventeen；〃　she　says；　〃and　I　know　my　way　about。〃

If　this　Monsieur　de　Grandsaigne　had　ventured　to　take　any　liberty　with　her；　she　was　old　enough　to　take　care　of　herself。

Her　mother　had　blamed　her　for　learning　Latin　and　osteology。　　〃Why　should　a　woman　be　ignorant？〃　she　asks。　　〃Can　she　not　be　well　educated　without　this　spoiling　her　and　without　being　pedantic？　　Supposing　that　I　should　have　sons　in　the　future；　and　that　I　had　profited　sufficiently　by　my　studies　to　be　able　to　teach　them；　would　not　a　mother's　lessons　be　as　good　as　a　tutor's？〃

She　was　already　challenging　public　opinion；　starting　a　campaign　against　false　prejudices；　showing　a　tendency　to　generalize；　and　to　make　the　cause　of　one　woman　the　cause　of　all　women。

We　must　now　bear　in　mind　the　various　traits　we　have　discovered；　one　after　another；　in　Aurore's　character。　　We　must　remember　to　what　parentage　she　owed　her　intellectuality　and　her　sentimentality。　　It　will　then　b