The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1900-05-22

man of quality" who was soldering in
Portugal. of whose name the publisher was
ignorant.
Edition after edition of this curious 1T
tie book was called for. Its success was
immediate and unprecedented. Countless
repetions of the text and numerous trans
lations appeared. Hest of limitations
flooded the book stores, but the genuine
letters held their own.
Who was the woman? How came it that
any man who received such letters could
nave allowed mortal eye other than his
own 10 rest on them?
All that the letters told was that the
name of the writer was Mariana that
she was nun, that her convent windows
overlooked the plains of Marteli, that she
had loved and lost
So direct and so eloquent in their classic
simplicity were the expressions of a for-'
saken woman that the eyes of the word
were at orce opened to it's own deficiency
and from the day of the appearance of the
Portuguese letters began to express them
selves in simple, direct and sincere lam
guage.
The letters are valuable as revelation
of the heart, pure and simple. They
contain no incident, no attempt at rheto-
ric, but are simply the successive APP
peals of an unhappy woman who repeats
her protestations of love without any eff
fort at sensation or effect While she
clamonS at the door for mercy, she is
fully conscious that the impassioned in
cident of her life is closed forever but
she is absolutely powerless 20 moderate
her emotions.
In her first letter, which begins abrupt
ly and angrily, for it would appear that
her lover he'd ridden off without a per-
sonal farewell she says
your lieutenant tells me that storm
into fnrrr flA-
from here. Are you quite sure that your
lieutenant takes more interest in all that
happens TO you than / do? Why do you
keep him better informed than you do
me? l am very unfortunate if you find
no opportunity of writing to me before
your departure. and still more so if you
found one and did not use it in writing to
me. You take advantage of the ex-
euses you had for going back to France.
ship was starting. Why did you not
let her start2 How can it be that hav-
ing known the depths of my heart and
affections you are able to persuade your
self TO abandon me forever, and so expose
me to the terrors of believing that, for
the future, I shall be forgotten and sacri-
feed 10 the memory of some new pas
sion?"
Her misery eliminates in the third letter,
which is unsurpassed as a revelation of
the self-torture of a sensitive mind.
Il cannot perSuaQe IlySelI lnaI you may
no longer be thinking of me and indeed
am feverishly jealous of whatever may
give you happiness and of all that may
touch your heart and please your taste
in France. I do not know why l write to
you. l see well enough that you will only
pity me, but I do not wish your pity"
She recognized fully the hopelessness of
her lot, but write she must. In the fourth
letter she says:
Dora Brites has been prosecuting me
for the last few days to leave my room,
fancying that 1t would amuse me. She took
me for tour of the balcony from which
one has a view of MartoH, but once there
a cruel memory surged me and kept me
company for the rest of the day.
Whatever is done TO solace me augments
my sufferings, and in the remedies, there
fore, I find infinite reasons why l should
be miserable. 1 have often seen you pass
this spot and L was on that balcony on the
fatal day when first began to feel
symptoms of my ill-starred passion. 1
fancied that you wished to please me. al
though you did not know me. persuaded
myself that you had noticed me amongst
all the ladies that were with you. Your
air charmed me and I fanced that you
were pleased that 1 should admire
1t was many years before the clew given
by the allusion to the plains of Martoli
brought forth even part of the romantic
history of the immortal letters which were
to create such a sensation and exercise
such an extraordinary influence in their
way.
At length Saint Simon and Duclos, the
French philosopher, informed the world
that the parsonage to whom the letters
were addressed was the Marquis de Chan
lilly, a brave soldier and afterward mar
shall of France, and subsequently a stu
dent perusing the quaint old book found a
marginal note in faded ink, stating that
the letters had been written by one, Mari
anna Altaforado a nun in convent at
Beja, in the province of Aluntijo. Resa arch
proved this to be correct and led to the
elucidation of such scant particulars as we
are now possessed of. OF Mariana moth
ing more is known. But of the Marquis Of
Chantilly history frequently speaks.