In her next work, _Lélia_, written in 1833, the author's riotous imagination produced a poem--for such it is--which was regarded as another manifestation of the wide range of her faculties. The book, however, is now regarded as important chiefly from the fact that George Sand confessedly pictures herself more closely therein than in any other of her works. She writes to Monsieur François Rollinat: "This book will enable you to know the depth of my soul, and also that of your own." Again she says later, in 1836, in a letter to Mademoiselle de Chantepie: "_Lélia_ ... contains more of my inmost self than any other book." Again, writing in 1842, she says: "Lélia is not offered as an example to be followed, but as a martyr who may arouse thoughts in his judges and executioners, those who pronounce the law, and those who execute it.... I have never preached a doctrine; I do not feel that I am intelligent enough to do so." It was after the publication of _Lélia_ that George Sand first became personally acquainted with Alfred de Musset, then a young man of twenty-three, but already of established fame as a dramatist and poet. That this acquaintance should have rapidly matured into a close friendship is not surprising. On her part, George Sand felt that she had encountered a soul that understood her own, while De Musset was equally enchanted with her. Before the year 1833 had closed, the two attached friends had started for Italy, full of the hope of continued mutual happiness. It is unnecessary here to trace the history of their friendship in detail; it is certain that the mental sufferings and the unsatisfied heart-cravings of George Sand had rendered her morbid. Her letters to friends, written before her journey to Italy, show that she realized too well the hollowness of society to lean upon it for guidance, or even distraction. She says, writing in July: "Of the things I hate or contemn, society is the least." To her, therefore, the companionship of De Musset must have seemed as refreshing as rain to a parched land. In speaking of the separation that followed in April, 1834, when De Musset, still very weak from a sickness, left Venice for Paris, accompanied by a Venetian physician, she writes: "We have parted, perhaps only for a few months; perhaps for ever. Only God knows what will become of my poor head and heart. I feel that I possess strength enough to live, toil, and endure." The story of this painful effort of genius to lead and ennoble genius is told with much interest in _Elle et Lui_ (She and He), which appeared more than twenty-five years later.