The Caldwell tribune. [volume] (Caldwell, Idaho Territory [Idaho]) 1883-1928, 1897-02-13


language has just come to light. says the
New York Herald. Though prose in form,
it is poem in spirit; though apparently
a mere impassioned love letter, 1t is, in
its way, a work of art, and as such may
well be placed in the same category with
the wonderful letters OF Heloise and Alb
elard.
George Sand is this nineteenth century
Heloise, and the Abelard to whom her
fiery words are addressed is Pietro Pag-
clio, an Italian doctor. The great au-
thoress was passionately in love with this
ponderous italian, and some curious sto-
ries have been published in regard to
her intimacy with him. How he attract
ed her is rather a mystery. Some writer's
claim that the magic lay In his broad
shoulders and general physical robust.
ness. But can any one account for
woman's tastes? Can any one explain
why Mary of Scotland fell in love with
the brutal Boutwell,?
Dr.. Pagello is still living-9O years old
he Island from him DR.. Cabanes obtained
a copy Of the fine letter.
A hearty old man Pagello is, and great
ly hattered he seems to be on account
OF the attention which is being paid to
him. 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 that
she was fond of Turkish tobacco, and
used to make her own cigarettes, that
she was always sweet tempered and con-
tent with her lot, that fish was her ia
vorite food, that she excelled in making
sauces, and that she drank a great deal
of tea as a stimulant to work.
Young Pagello his SOD, adds further de-
tails. This was a mere episode in my
fathers life," he says, nothing more.
George Sand, wearied with Alfred de
Mussett's caprices, fell in love with my
father, who was a fine handsome, broad
skculdered young fellow. My father
loved the handsome French woman for
her genius, her l1indness-indeed, to tell
the truth, he was captivated with her.
But this little incident was soon forgot
ten. by him."
How cold, nay, heartless, these words
seem as we read George Sands out
burst of passionate alteration! Would
she have written this If she had foreseen
that this idyl in her life would in time
be regarded as a little Incident in her
lovers life?
Her Daughter Protests.
She would, perhaps, be as much opposed
to the publication of this love letter as
some members of her family are now to
the publication of her private documents.
Her daughter, Nine. Clesinger, was angry
when she heard that this letter had been
/ published, and she at once asked the
courts to interfere in her behalf. Law
yers, however, are of the opinion that
she has no case. A letter, they say, be-
longs partly to the author and partly to
the person to whom 1t is addressed and,
under ordinary circumstances, no third
party has any claim to it. Moreover,
George Sand bequeathed all the letters
relating to herself and DeMusset to M.
Emile Ancante, with full instructions to
publish them whenever he might see fit.
M. Ancante says that he will carry out
her desire, and that the letters to De
Musset will be published shortly. Nine.
Clesinger and the other members of
George Sands family, he claims, have not
a shadow of title to her letters. He will
publish them and the originals will then
be deposited In the National or some
other great French library.
Even admitting, however, that the
l
as regards the letters to De Musset, 1t is
difficult to see what claim they can have
on the letters written to Pagello, and
which are, apparently, in his possession
Now for the famous letter itself.
Passionate Love Song.
"Since we were born under different
skies, we have neither the same thoughts
nor the same language, but have we moi
/ at least the same hearts?
1.-THE warm and foggy climate of my ma
tive land has left in me sweet and mel
ancholy Impressions; what passions d.
you owe to the generous sun which ma!
bronzed your brow? know how to low
and sufrer-and you, how do you love?
IT do not know if you really Low,
me. 1 shall never know. You are onl!
able to speak a few words in my tongue
and I. do not know your mother tongu'
/ sufficiently to enable me to frame Ques
lions so subtle. Perhaps even if knew
your language thoroughly it would b.
impossible for me to make myself under
stood.
1.-THE places in which we have lived
the persons who have instructed us, ar
doubtless the cause why we can not ex
plain, each to the other, our ideas, on
sentiments, our needs. My weak natur
and your fiery temperament must necea
sarily give birth to thoughts that ar
widely different. OF a surety you eithe
ignore or despise the thousand pang
that assail me- of a surety you laug
at that which brings tears to my eyes.
Perhaps you do not know what tear
are?
"Will you be for me a helpmate or
. master? Will you console me for all tn
ills which 1 suffered before met you
Will you understand why am sad?
do you know what compassion, pat
ence, friendship mean? Perhaps you hav
been nurtured in the conviction that VIC
men have no soul? Do you know tina
they have one? Are you neither Chris
tan nor Mussulman2 Neither civilize
; nor barbarian? Are you a man? What
there within this manly breast, this lee
3 nine eye, this superb brow? Is there /
you thought noble and pure, sent
ment fraternal and pious? When yo
sleep do you dream that you are wingin
! your way toward heaven? When men d
YOU wrong do you put your trust in God?