The sequel, therefore, of this history is given under the title of
Countess of Rudolstadt. Consuelo is still on the stage; she is at the
Prussian court. The well-known features of this society, as given in
the memoirs of the time, are put together with much grace and wit. The
sketch of Frederic is excellent.
The rest of the book is devoted to expression of the author's ideas on
the subject of reform, and especially of association as a means
thereto. As her thoughts are yet in a very crude state, the execution
of this part is equally bungling and clumsy. Worse: she falsifies the
characters of both Consuelo and Albert,--who is revived again by
subterfuge of trance,--and stains her best arrangements by the mixture
of falsehood and intrigue.
Yet she proceeds towards, if she walks not by, the light of a great
idea; and sincere democracy, universal religion, scatter from afar
many seeds upon the page for a future time. The book should be, and
will be, universally read. Those especially who have witnessed all
Sand's doubts and sorrows on the subject of marriage, will rejoice in
the clearer, purer ray which dawns upon her now. The most natural and
deep part of the book, though not her main object, is what relates to
the struggle between the claims of art and life, as to whether it be
better for the world and one's self to develop to perfection a talent
which Heaven seemed to have assigned as a special gift and vocation,
or sacrifice it whenever the character seems to require this for its
general development.
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