Aurelien de Seze had taken upon himself the role of confidant to this soul that he had allotted to himself.  He took his role very seriously, as was his custom in all things.  He became the young wife’s director in all matters of conscience.  The letters which he wrote to her have been preserved, and we know them by the extracts and the analysis that Monsieur Rocheblave has given us and by his incisive commentaries of them.(4) They are letters of guidance, spiritual letters.  The laic confessor endeavours, before all things, to calm the impatience of this soul which is more and more ardent and more and more troubled every day.  He battles with her about her mania of philosophizing, her wish to sift everything and to get to the bottom of everything.  Strong in his own calmness, he kept repeating to her in a hundred different ways the words:  “Be calm!” The advice was good; the only difficulty was the following of the advice.

     (4) “George Sand avant George Sand,” by S. Rocheblave
     (Revue de Paris, December 15, 1894).

Gradually the professor lost his hold on his pupil, for it seems as though Aurore were the first to tire.  Aurelien finally began to doubt the efficacy of his preaching.  The usual fate of sentiments outside the common order of things is that they last the length of time that a crisis of enthusiasm lasts.  The best thing that can happen then is that their nature should not change, that they should not deteriorate, as is so often the case.  When they remain intact to the end, they leave behind them, in the soul, a trail of light, a trail of cold, pure light.

The decline of this platonic liaison with Aurelien de Seze dates from 1828.  Some grave events were taking place at Nohant about this time.  For the last few years Casimir had fallen into the vices of certain country squires, or so-called gentlemen farmers.  He had taken to drink, in company with Hippolyte Chatiron, and it seems that the intoxication peculiar to the natives of Berry takes a heavy and not a gay form.  He had also taken to other bad habits, away from home at first, and later on under the conjugal roof.  He was particularly partial to the maid-servants, and, the day following the birth of her daughter, Solange, Aurore had an unpleasant surprise with regard to her husband.  From that day forth, what had hitherto been only a vague wish on her part became a fixed idea with her, and she began to form plans.  A certain incident served as a pretext.  When putting some papers in order, Aurore came upon her husband’s will.  It was a mere diatribe, in which the future “deceased” gave utterance to all his past grievances against his idiotic wife.  Her mind was made up irrevocably from this moment.  She would have her freedom again; she would go to Paris and spend three months out of six there.  She had a young tutor from the south of France, named Boucoiran, educating her children.  This Boucoiran needed to be taken to task constantly, and Baronne Dudevant did not spare him.(5)