ntrast　may　prove　a　strong　attraction；　and　then；　too；　George　Sand　was　very　sensitive　to　the　charm　of　music。　　But　what　she　saw　above　all　in　Chopin　was　the　typical　artist；　just　as　she　understood　the　artist；　a　dreamer；　lost　in　the　clouds；　incapable　of　any　activity　that　was　practical；　a　〃lover　of　the　impossible。〃　　And　then；　too；　he　was　ill。　　When　Musset　left　Venice；　after　all　the　atrocious　nights　she　had　spent　at　his　bedside；　she　wrote：　　〃Whom　shall　I　have　now　to　look　after　and　tend？〃　　In　Chopin　she　found　some　one　to　tend。
  About　this　time；　she　was　anxious　about　the　health　of　her　son　Maurice；　and　she　thought　she　would　take　her　family　to　Majorca。　　This　was　a　lamentable　excursion；　but　it　seemed　satisfactory　at　first。　　They　travelled　by　way　of　Lyons；　Avignon；　Vaucluse　and　Nimes。　　At　Perpignan；　Chopin　arrived；　〃as　fresh　as　a　rose。〃　　〃Our　journey；〃　wrote　George　Sand；　〃seems　to　be　under　the　most　favourable　conditions。〃　　They　then　went　on　to　Barcelona　and　to　Palma。　　In　November；　1838；　George　Sand　wrote　a　most　enthusiastic　letter：　　〃It　is　poetry；　solitude；　all　that　is　most　artistic　and　_chique_　on　earth。　　And　what　skies；　what　a　country；　we　are　delighted。〃＇26＇　The　disenchantment　was　soon　to　begin；　though。　　The　first　difficulty　was　to　find　lodgings；　and　the　second　to　get　furniture。　　There　was　no　wood　to　burn　and　there　was　no　linen　to　be　had。　　It　took　two　months　to　have　a　pair　of　tongs　made；　and　it　cost　twenty…eight　pounds　at　the　customs　for　a　piano　to　enter　the　country。　　With　great　difficulty；　the　forlorn　travellers　found　a　country…house　belonging　to　a　man　named　Gomez；　which　they　were　able　to　rent。　　It　was　called　the　〃Windy　House。〃　　The　wind　did　not　inconvenience　them　like　the　rain；　which　now　commenced。　　Chopin　could　not　endure　the　heat　and　the　odour　of　the　fires。　　His　disease　increased；　and　this　was　the　origin　of　the　great　tribulations　that　were　to　follow。
  ＇26＇　The　following　is　an　unpublished　letter　to　Madame　Buloz：
  _Monday　13th。_
  MY　DEAR　CHRISTINE；
  〃I　have　only　been　at　Palma　four　days。　　My　journey　has　been　very　satisfactory；　but　rather　long　and　difficult　until　we　were　out　of　France。　　I　took　up　my　pen　（as　people　say）　twenty　times　over　to　write　the　last　five　or　six　pages　for　which　_Spiridion_　has　been　waiting　for　six　months。　　It　is　not　the　easiest　thing　in　the　world；　I　can　assure　you；　to　give　the　conclusion　of　one's　own　religious　belief；　and　when　travelling　it　is　impossible。　　At　twenty　different　places　I　have　resolved　to　think　it　solemnly　over　and　to　write　down　my　conclusion。　　But　these　stoppages　were　the　most　tiring　part　of　our　journey。　　There　were　visits；　dinners；　walks；　curiosities；　ruins；　the　Vaucluse　fountain；　Reboul　and　the　Nimes　arena；　the　Barcelona　cathedrals；　dinners　on　board　the　war…ships；　the　Italian　theatres　of　Spain　（and　what　theatres　and　what　Italians！）；　guitars　and　Heaven　knows　what　beside。　　There　was　the　moonlight　on　the　sea　and　above　all　Valma　and　Mallorca；　the　most　delightful　place　in　the　world；　and　all　this　kept　me　terribly　far　away　from　philosophy　and　theology。　　Fortunately　I　have　found　some　superb　convents　here　all　in　ruins；　with　palm…trees；　aloes　and　the　cactus　in　the　midst　of　broken　mosaics　and　crumbling　cloisters；　and　this　takes　me　back　to　_Spiridion_。　　For　the　last　three　days　I　have　had　a　rage　for　work；　which　I　cannot　satisfy　yet；　as　we　have　neither　fire　nor　lodging。　　There　is　not　an　inn　in　Palma；　no　house　to　let　and　no　furniture　to　be　bought。　　On　arriving　here　people　first　have　to　buy　some　ground；　then　build；　and　afterwards　send　for　furniture。　　After　this；　permission　to　live　somewhere　has　to　be　obtained　from　Government；　and　after　five　or　six　years　one　can　think　about　opening　one's　trunk　and　changing　one's　chemise；　whilst　waiting　for　permission　from　the　Customs　to　have　some　shoes　and　handkerchiefs　passed。　　For　the　last　four　days　then　we　have　spent　our　time　going　from　door　to　door；　as　we　do　not　want　to　sleep　in　the　open　air。　　We　hope　now　to　be　settled　in　about　three　days；　as　a　miracle　has　taken　place。　　For　the　first　time　in　the　memory　of　man；　there　is　a　furnished　house　to　let　in　Mallorca；　a　charming　country…house　in　a　delightful　desert。　。　。　。〃　　｛The　end　of　footnote　＇26＇｝
  At　that　time　Spain　was　the　very　last　country　in　which　to　travel　with　a　consumptive　patient。　　In　a　very　fine　lecture；　the　subject　of　which　was　_The　Fight　with　Tubcrculosis_；＇27＇　Dr。　Landouzy　proves　to　us　that　ever　since　the　sixteenth　century；　in　the　districts　of　the　Mediterranean；　in　Spain；　in　the　Balearic　Isles　and　throughout　the　kingdom　of　Naples；　tuberculosis　was　held　to　be　contagious；　whilst　the　rest　of　Europe　was　ignorant　of　this　contagion。　　Extremely　severe　rules　had　been　laid　down　with　regard　to　the　measures　to　be　taken　for　avoiding　the　spread　of　this　disease。　　A　consumptive　patient　was　considered　as　a　kind　of　plague…stricken　individual。　　Chateaubriand　had　experienced　the　inconveniences　of　this　scare　during　his　stay　in　Rome　with　Madame　de　Beaumont；　who　died　there　of　consumption；　at　the　beginning　of　the　winter　of　1803。　　George　Sand；　in　her　turn；　was　to　have　a　similar　experience。　　When　Chopin　was　convicted　of　consumption；　〃which；〃　as　she　writes；　〃was　equivalent　to　the　plague；　according　to　the　Spanish　doctors；　with　their　foregone　conclusions　about　contagion；〃　their　landlord　simply　turned　them　out　of　his　house。　　They　took　refuge　in　the　Chartreuse　monastery　of　Valdemosa；　where　they　lived　in　a　cell。　　The　site　was　very　beautiful。　　By　a　wooded　slope　a　terrace　could　be　reached；　from　which　there　was　a　view　of　the　sea　on　two　sides。
  ＇27＇　L。　Landouzy　of　the　Academy　of　Medecine；　_La　Lutte　contre　la　tuberculose_；　published　by　L。　Maretheux。
  〃We　are　planted　between　heaven　and　earth；〃　wrote　George　Sand。　　〃The　clouds　cross　our　garden　at　their　own　will　and　pleasure；　and　the　eagles　clamour　over　our　heads。〃
  A　cell　in　this　monastery　was　composed　of　three　rooms：　　the　one　in　the　middle　was　intended　for　reading；　prayer　and　meditation；　the　other　two　were　the　bedroom　and　the　workshop。　　All　three　rooms　looked　on　to　a　garden。　　Reading；　rest　and　manual　labour　made　up　the　life　of　these　men。　　They　lived　in　a　limited　space　certainly；　but　the　view　stretched　out　infinitely；　and　prayer　went　up　direct　to　God。　　Among　the　ruined　buildings　of　the　enormous　monastery　there　was　a　cloister　still　standing；　through　which　the　wind　howled　desperately。　　It　was　like　the　scenery　in　the　nuns'　act　in　_Robert　le　Diable_。　　All　this　made　the　old　monastery　the　most　romantic　place　in　the　world。＇28＇
  ＇28＇　George　Sand　to　Madame　Buloz。　　Postscript　to　the　letter　already　quoted：
  〃I　am　leaving　for　the　country　where　I　have　a　furnished　house　with　a　garden；　magnificently　situated　for　50　francs　a　month。　　I　have　also　taken　a　cell；　that　is　three　rooms　and　a　garden　for　35　francs　a　year　in　the　Chartreuse　of　Valdemosa；　a　magnificent；　immense　monastery　quite　lonely　in　the　midst　of　mountains。　　Our　garden　is　full　of　oranges　and　lemons。　　The　trees　break　under　them。　　We　have　hedges　of　cactus　twenty　to　thirty　feet　high；　the　sea　is　about　a　mile　and　a　half　away。　　We　have　a　donkey　to　take　us　to　the　town；　roads　inaccessible　to　visitors；　immense　cloisters　and　the　most　beautiful　architecture；　a　charming　church；　a　cemetery　with　a　palm…tree　and　a　stone　cross　like　the　one　in　the　third　act　of　_Robert　le　Diable_。　　Then；　too；　there　are　beds　of　shrubs　cut　in　form。　　All　this　we　have　to　ourselves　with　an　old　woman　to　wait　on　us；　and　the　sacristan　who　is　warder；　steward；　majordomo　and　Jack…of…all…trades。　I　hope　we　shall　have　ghosts。　　The　door　of　my　cell　leads　into　an　enormous　cloister；　and　when　the　wind　slams　the　door　it　is　like　a　cannon　going　off　through　all　the　monastery。　　I　am　delighted　with　everything；　and　fancy　I　shall　be　more　often　in　the　cell　than　in　the　country…house；　which　is　about　six　miles　away。　　You　see　that　I　have　plenty　of　poetry　and　solitude；　so　that　if　I　do　not　work　I　shall　be　a　stupid　thing。〃　　｛The　end　of　footnote　＇28＇｝
  The　only　drawback　was　that　it　was　most　difficult　to　live　there。　　There　was　no　way　of　getting　warm。　　The　stove　was　a　kind　of　iron　furnace　which　gave　out　a　terrible　odour；　and　did　not　prevent　the　rooms　from　being　so　damp　that　clothes　mildewed　while　they　were　being　worn。　　There　was　no　way　of　getting　proper　food　either。　　They　had　to　eat　the　most　indigestible　things。　　There　were　five　sorts　of　meat　certainly；　but　these　were　pig；　pork；　bacon；　ham　and　pickled　pork。　　This　was　all　cooked　in　dripping；　pork…dripping；　of　course；　or　in　rancid　oil。　　Still　more　than　this；　the　natives　refused；　not　only　to　serve　the　unfortunate　travellers；　but　to　sell　them　the　actual　necessaries　of　life。　　The　fact　was；　they　had　scandalized　the　Majorcan　people。　　All　Majorca　was　indignant　because　Solange；　who　at　that　time　was　nine　years　old；　roamed　about　the　mountains　_disguised　as　a　man_。　　Added　to　this；　when　the　horn　sounded　which　called　people　to　their　devotions　in　the　churches；　these　strange　inhabitants　of　the　old　Valdemosa　monastery　never　took　any　more　notice　than　pagans。　　People　kept　clear　of　them。　　Chopin　suffered　with　the　cold；　the　cooking　made　him　sick；　and　he　used　to　have　fits　of　terror　in　the　cloisters。　　They　had　to　leave　hastily。　　The　only　steamboat　from　the　island　was　used　to　transport　the　pigs　which　are　the　pride　and　wealth　of　Majorca。　　People　were　only　taken　as　an　extra。　　It　was；　therefore；　in　t