Public ledger. [volume] (Memphis, Tenn.) 1865-1893, 1875-10-07
Eugene sue and GEORGE enna

says Jules Lecomte published in l840
a work on the then celebrated authors
Of France. Here is sketch of Eugene
Sue, then in the hight of his renown:
M. Sue is tall young man, and
rather stout as we'll. He wears boot
heels some two or three inches high, and
my informant tells me that M. Sue is in
despair because these heels are not red.
He is a dandy in the full Specification of
the word. He is pale and very dark,
with abundant hair aud beard; his nose
is twisted to the side, and he carries
little cane covered with precious stones.
de is quite wealthy, the paternal fortune
amounting to twenty-five or thirty thou.
sand francs of revenue. In the winter
be resides in Paris on the Rue Caumsr-
tin. His furniture is extremely splen-
did, of the styles Of the Renaissance
and Louis XIV. 1t is said to have cost
over twenty thousand dollars. His
study is in antique carved oak, orna-
mented on all sides with ancient bronzes,
old Flemish pictures and all sorts Of
arms and curiositIes in the severest
taste. Antique-colored glass of the IF
teenth century only permits sort of
mysterious twilight to penetrate this
apartment; it is hard to understand how
NJ. Sue can see to write or even to read
amid these shadows, which have some
thing religious about them. His salon
is all satin damask, gilded furniture,
buhl furniture, msrqaetry in copper,
enamels, old tapestry hangings, Japan
ese vases and other ruinous fancies.
The dining-room is in the transition
style of Lonis XIII, but by caprice
which seems like an infrmity in the
host Of these brilliant apartments, the
same Obscurity reigns everywhere"
1t was ct this time that Engene Sue
purposed writing the History OF the
French Navy" Long before the publ.
cation of the first number, several frag.
ments Of 1T had appeared in the Partisan
reviews, and had been severely criticised.
One day, when he had just given fore.
taste OF his History OF Jean Bart" BY
a chapter la Walter Scott, which had
been printed in some literary collection,
Il. Sue received packet from Toulon,
transmitted through the Ministry of the
Navy. 1t was formally unsealed, and
within M. Sue found a gilt medal, on
which was inscribed, ITO Nj. Eugene
Sue, from the French Navy in gratitude. "
Beneath this inscription was tiny line
which looked like an ornamental -four.
ish. NJ. Sue showed this medal with
great pride to forty Of his friends; the
iorty-frst discovered that the little line
was really composed of this conclusion
in almost imperceptible letters, to the In
scription, For his not having written
its historyp
Here is a picture Of George Sand oI
those days as she appeared at the opera
"At that moment the Baroness Dude.
want George Sand) entered the foyer
leaning on the arm of NJ. Didier On
seeing her, Alfred de Musset, whose
journey to Italy with that celebrated
woman is an interpreted fact, slipped be-
hind M. de Balzac and fed from the
room.
Madame George Sand is a small lady
of rather delicate aspect about thirty
years Of age, having fire and abundant
tresses and very noble countenance
Her profile is of the style that the French
call Bourbonian. Her foot is irreduci
BILE and her hand improbable A cour
of young artists followed her and cele
brated men ranged themselves on either
side to salute her. The warm pallor OIL
her couutenance brought out the luSter
Of her black aud sparkling eyes,"
Heavens and earth, how plain she il
now, that celebrated and fascinatin,
woman, whose heartless immoralty hai
disgraced her sex even more than he
genious adorned it. Old, fat and com
monplace- looking, with stiff range o
little false curls surmounting her promi
nent forehead, with deep indentations il
heavy cheeks, and with eyes sharp ant
keen as gimlet point, George Sand re
tains not vestige Of the Cleopatra-lik
fascination wherewith she won the heart
and blighted the lives of Chopin and D.
Musset Such women ought to die il
their siren prime, not live to grow oil
and stout and ordinary looking. She i
very pous now, | hear, and very domes
tic in her tastes. when the devil wa
sick" we all know that adage, and
suppose it is pretty much the same witt
; the devil grown old.