The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1896-12-06
FAMOUS LETTER OF LOVE.
WRITTEN BY GEORGE SAND TO HER
ITALIAN LOVER, DIR. PAGELLO.

Love Poem in ProSe-FuII of Dubi-
ans Fancies-A Letter which Might
nc placed in the same Category
with Those of AbcIard and ElOise.
strange Affection for the Ponder
Gus Italian,
one of the finest love poems in any Ian
ruase has just come to light. Though
rinse in form, it is a poem in spirit; though
.,narently a mere inpassioned love letter,
ltis in its way. work of art. and as such
nav well be placed in the same category
with the wonderful letters of Eloise and
Abelard.
George Sand is this nineteenth century
t.,oise. and the Abelard to whom her fiery
lords are addressed is Pietro Pagello, an
Itaran doctor The great authoress was
,.ssionately in love with this ponderous
italian, and some curious stories have been
rnblished in regard to her intimacy with
him. How he attracted her is rather a
r,vstery. Some writer's claim that the
magic lay in his broad shoulders and gen
oral physical robustness. But can any
one account for a woman's tastes? Can
,nv one explain why Mary of Scotland
fol IN love with the brutal Boutwell,?
DR.. Pagello is still living-9O years old he
sand from him DR.. Cabanes obtained
COPY of the fine letter which the New York
Herald has published.
A hearty old man Pagello is, and great
IN battered he seems to be on account of
he attention which is being paid to him
at present Among his treasures are a
few porcelain cups out of which George
Sand used to drink and these he ALWAYS
shows to visitors. Talking of the woman
who has made his name famous he says
mat she v fond of Turkish tobacco and
used to nt~.Ae her own cigarettes, that
she was always sweet tempered and con-
tent with her lot, that fish was her favor
lie food that she eXcelled in makins
sauces, and that she drank a good deal
Of tea as a stimulant to work.
Young Pagello, his son, adds further de-
tails. This was mere episode in my
fathers life he says; nothing more
George Sand, wearied with Alfred de Mus
n sets caprices, fell in love with my father.
a who was a fine, handsome, broad-shoul-
N dered young fellow. My father loved the
handsome French woman for her genius,
y her kndness-indeed, to tell the truth, he
n was captivated with her But this little
incident was soon forgotten by him.
II How cold, nay heartless, these words
seem as We read George Sands outburst Of
passionate alteration! Would she have
written thus if she had foreseen that this
4 dyl in her life would in time be regarded
as little incident" in her lovers life
She would, perhaps, be as much opposed
to the publication of this love let
ter as some members of her fam
lily are now to the publication
of her private documents. Her
daughter, Nine. Clesinger, was very angry
a when she heard that the letter had been
published. and she at once asked the courts
to interfere in her behalf. Lawyers, how
ever, are of the opinion that she has no
case. 4 letter, they say, belongs partly
TO the author and partly to the person to
whom 1t is addressed, and under ordina-
4 ny circumstances no third party has any
claim to it. Moreover, George Sand be-
queathed all the letters relating to herself
ana De Musset to M. Emile Ancante, a
n member of the Calmann Levy firm of pub
N fishers, with full Instructions to publish
them whenever he might see fit M. An
cante says he will carry out her desire, and
H mat her letters to De Musset will be pub
4 lished shortly. Nine. Clesinger and the
4 other members of George Sands family
he claims, have not a shadow of title to
her letters. He will publish them, and the
original will then be deposited in the ma
uonal or some other great French library
Even admitting, however that the mem
CARDS the letters to De Musset, it is diff
cult to see what claim they can have on
The letters written to Pagello, and which
II are apparently, in his possession.
Now for the famous letter ITSELF
since we were born under different
SKIES, we have neither the same thoughts
nor the same language, but have we not
at least, the same hearts?
The warm and foggy climate of my ma
N M nd al
aAcholy Impressions; what passions do
you owe to the generous sun, which has
ponzed your brow? l know how. to love
ana to suffer, and you, how do you love?
do not know if you really love me. l
shaH never know. You are only able to
speak few words in my tongue, and l
DO not know your mother tongue sulfi-
GENTLY to enable me to frame questions
80 subtle. Perhaps even If 1 knew your
language thoroughly it would be impos-
Sole Tor me to make myself understood.
Inc places in which we have lived, the
persons who have instructed us, are
doubtless the cause why we cannot ex-
pam each to the other, our IDEAS our
sentiments, our needs. My weak nature
ana your fiery temperament must nee
esSarlly give birth to thoughts that are
widely different. OF surety you either
ghore or despise the Thousand pangs
when assail me; of a surety you laugh
d, lnat which brings tears to my eyes.
Perhaps you do not know what tears
VIII you be for me helpmate or
master? Win you console me for all the
nS which | suffered before / met you?
Wal YOU understand why am sad?
DO YOU know wha compassion, patience,
friendship mean? Perhaps you have been
,uftured in the conviction that women
nave no soul? Do you know that they
nave one? Are you nelthe4 Christian nor
Nussulman, neither civilized nor barba
ran? Are you a man? What is there
MNhin this manly breast this leonine eye,
WIS supreb brow? is there In you
i nought noble and pure, a sentiment fra
'fnal and pious7 When you sleep do you
u'ean that you are winging your way to-
ward heaven? When men do you wrong
Oo yon put your trust in God?
DO YOU know what / am, and are you
yemoling yourself because you do not
Nn9w it? Am / in your eyes something
unknown, which ILLS you with longing and
possesses your thpights2 $40 you know
what the souls desire is-that desire which
Ime cannot satiate and which no human
tt'feScS can weary or luil 10 sleep2