On Life & Letters (Paperback)

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1922 Excerpt: ... the lake of Berre, ardent, generous, drunk with the thyme on the hills and the rays of the sun, he attracted the benevolent attention of a fellow-wayfarer, who was wearing a yellow coat with five capes; a man of substance. The latter, full of astonishment, asked him: "Are you a merchant?" "Certainly not," answered Barthelemy. "An artist?" "Not that either." The man in the coat reflected a moment, and then: "You are not an artist. In that case you are a Pole. You need not conceal the fact. I like the Poles." And he would not abandon the idea. In spite of all denials he insisted on regarding Barthelemy as a Pole. In a certain sense the man in the coat was right. There was something Polish in Barthelemy Tisseur. There was something Polish in all the youth of those days. The letters written by Barthelemy to his brothers during the romantic walks of his twentieth year, in Provence, reveal a soul of ardent purity, full of poetry and vagueness. His farewell to the town of Arles, which has been preserved for us, gives one the idea of an adolescent Edgar Quinet: "Farewell, little valley of Jehoshaphat, soil impregnated with the ashes and tears of humanity, you who unite Rome with the Middle Ages; you whose women are so beautiful, beloved daughter of Constantine, so melancholy under the flaming southern sun, you who, with your ruins and tombs, would be the sublimest theatre of love. Good-bye good-bye Aliscamps; sleep on, desolate shades." While he was at Aix he met a young man with dishevelled hair, a gloomy eye, and an inspired face. It was Victor de Laprade. Naturally, they talked of art and poetry. After a few minutes' conversation they loved each other devotedly. They mingled their enthusiasms; they r...