f her own heart, which is
really herself. This explains the difference between Balzac's impersonal
novel and George Sand's personal novel. It is just the difference
between realistic art, which gives way to the object, and idealistic
art, which transforms this according to its own will and pleasure.

Up to this time George Sand's ideas had not been put on to paper. Both
_Corambe_ and the stories composed between four chairs were merely
fancies of a child's mind. Aurore soon began to write, though. She had
composed two novels while in the convent, one of which was religious and
the other a pastoral story. She was wise enough to tear them both up. On
leaving the convent she wrote another novel for Rene' de Villeneuve, and
this shared the same fate. In 1827, she wrote her _Voyage en Auvergne_,
and in 1829, another novel. In her _Histoire de ma vie_ she says of
this: "After reading it, I was convinced that it was of no value, but at
the same time I was sure I could write a better one. . . . I saw that
I could write quickly and easily, and without feeling any fatigue.
The ideas that were lying dormant in my mind were quickened and became
connected, by my deductions, as I wrote. With my meditative life, I had
observed a great deal, and had understood the various characters which
Fate had put in my way, so that I really knew enough of human nature
to be able to depict it." She now had that facility, that abundance of
matter and that nonchalance which were such characteristic features of
her writing.

When George Sand began to publish, she had already written a great deal.
Her literary formation was complete. We notice this same thing whenever
we study the early work of a writer. Genius is revealed to us, perhaps,
with a sudden flash, but it has been making its way for a long time
underground, so that what we take for a spontaneous burst of genius is
nothing but the final effort of a sap which has been slowly accumulating
and which from henceforth is all-powerful.

George Sand had to go through the inevitable period of feeling her way.
We are glad to think that the first book she published was not written
by herself alone, so that the responsibility of that execrable novel
does not lie solely with her.

On the 9th of March, 1831, George Sand wrote to Boucoiran as follows:
"Monstrosities are in vogue, so we must invent monstrosities. I am
bringing forth a very pleasant one just at present. . . ." This was the
novel written i