The daily morning journal and courier. [volume] (New Haven, Conn.) 1894-1907, 1907-08-16

lish by Charles Conner Hayden. Printed
for subscribers only by Edwin c. Hill
Company, New York.
An admirable work, worthy Of a
place in all libraries. The authors work
was evidently labor of love and the
reader will be richly repaid. The child
hood of De Musset, his social environ
n.ents, his education, his foibles, his
flower-like sensitiveness, his youthful
grace and beauty of face and figure, all
pass In review in these pages, followed
by a faithful yet almost worshipful
narration of the events in the poets
career, his early association with Vic
tor Hugo and a few other famous
Frenchmen, his youthful poetic effus-
ions, his alteration of George Sand and
her mighty influence as an inspiration
in his later poetic work which brought
him increased and undying fame Mus
sets first meeting and the opening of
his acquaintance with George Sand are
described, The author proceeding says:
"Such was the opening of this famous
liaison which, in a biography of de
Musset, is not to be passed over in
silence. not for the ignoble pleasure of
stirring over again a mess Of idle Cos
sip and of scandal, nor because 1t in
wolves two famous writer's, but because
it exercised a decisive influence upon
Musset, and also because it affords an
unique and extraordinary example Of
what the romantic spirit could do with
beings who had fallen a prey to it. The
correspondence of these ilustrious low
ems In which we follow step by step
the ravages Of the monster is one Of
the most precious psychological docu-
ments Of the first part of the last CEN
tury."
Musset's emotional outburst in a let
ter to George Sand from Baden, Sept.
/, 1884, is paroxysmal. He says: "Never
did man love as love you, am lost;
behold!I am drowned, overwhelmed
with love. love you my flesh and my
bones and my blood. Of love I am dy-
ing and Of a love endless nameless,
insensate, desperate beyond redemp-
ton. You are loved adored, idolized to
death. MOI I shall not get well, I shall
not attempt to live and I prefer it so;
and to die loving you is worth more
than to live" etc, etc.
l.
ing different, "they exchanged a few
letters to decide what to do with their
correspondence. Their last meeting
came to pass In 184S. The conclusion of
their story we BORROW from George
Sand. Peace and pardon said she, in
her old age in writing to Sainte-Beuve,
one day when they had been stirring
the ashes of that terrible past, So be
1t! Peace and pardon to those victims
Of romantic love-not at all as George
Sand would have it, because they had
loved much, but because they had suf-
fered much"
The author proceeds with a critical
review Of Musset's poetic and dramatic
failures and triumphs interspersed with
side lights upon his idyosyncracies, ex-
cessively nervous makeup, his day
dreams, his waning health his mental
conflicts. his theory of life, his reli-
glous views.
The authors estimate of Musset Is
In part from Taine "What he became
In short time for the younger gem
Grafton" says the narrator, che contin-
ued to be down to the war, and no one
has shown this better than Taine. The
page written in 1864 is the first and
nest discerning page touching the al
most Irresistible seductive charm ex-
cited for twenty years by Alfred de
Musset"
From Taine: "FIe is dead and vet we
seem every day to hear him speak, The
chat and pleasantly of artists in a
studio a pretty young girl at the the
alter bending over the edge of the box,
a street secured by the vain and the
glitter Of the blackened pavements,
fresh, cool morning, all smiles, in the
Fontainebleau woods-there Is naught
that does net bring him back before us,
as If living second life. Was there
ever a more thrilling, truer accent?
He, at the least, was one who never
told any lies. He said only what he
felt and as he felt it SO he said it. He
thought aloud. He made everybody's
confession. We did not admire we low
ed him; he was a poet--nay more he
was a man, In him each man detected
his own. sentiments, no matter how
fleeing or deeply felt. He threw off
constraint and yielded to inspiration;
and he possessed the last of the virtues
which remain among 1s-generosity
and sincerity He had the most pre-,
cious of the gifts which can cast
spell over civilization grown old
namely, youth. How he spoke of that
hot youth, the tree that has tough
bark. that with it's shadow covers all
things-highways and horizons! With
what impetuosity did he hurl about
and clash together love and jealousy,
the thirst pleasure and all unbridled
passions which mount with the tides of
virgin blood from the deeps of youth
ful heart! Has any man felt them
more? He was too full of them, he
surrendered to them, he was intoxicat
ed with them. TOO much did he ask of
things. He longed to taste all of life
at one draft, bitter and eager He
did not pluck it as a flower and enjoy
Its fragrance; he tore it away like
clustered fruit, crushed and wrenched
and bruised it, and stood there, with
hands smeared, as much athlrst as be-
fore. Then burst forth the sobs which
echoed in all hearts. What! so young
and already so weary! The muse and
her peaceful beauty, nature and her
immortal freshness, love and her beati-
fic smile, all the swarm Of heavenly
visions hardly pass before his eyes
when all the specters of debauch and
death flock in amid curses and sar-
easms. Still, such as you behold him,