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156 ELIOT (Geo.) in DERBYSHIRE; a Volume of Gossip about Passages and
People in her Novels, by GUY ROSLYN, edited with Introduction by G. B.
SMITH, cr 8vo, cloth, 5s - - 1876
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GEORGE ELIOT IN DERBYSHIRE.
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A VOLUME OF GOSSIP ABOUT PASSAGES AND
PEOPLE IN THE NOVELS OF
GEORGE ELIOT,
BY
G U Y. Rosſ. YN. . . .
Reprinted from “London Society,” with alterations and
additions, and an Introduction,
BY
GEORGE BARNETT SMITH.
LONDON :
WARD, LOCK, AND TYLER,
WARWICK House, PATERNOSTER Row.
MDCCCLXXVI.
INTRODUCTION.
gººmsº
THE delineation of character, and transcriptions of English
scenery found in the writings of George Eliot, must have
struck every reader as being more than the simple product of
a vigorous imagination ; they are true to the actualities of
life and nature. Obvious fidelity to the original sources of
inspiration is perhaps more remarkably displayed in this
writer than in any other author now living. There are
certain novelists who seize upon the salient features of a
landscape, and upon the leading qualities of the personages
of their stories, but all the minutiae which crowd the pages of
George Eliot are absent. Her method is so perfect, and her
sympathy so subtle, that she is equally at home in dealing
with the deepest tragedy of human passion, as in painting the
most fragile leaf that trembles in the breeze. In the last
generation only did she find a genius parallel to her own,
though not equal in strength or in literary culture; and
whoever is acquainted with the novels of Charlotte Bronté—
and more especially with “Shirley’—will not have failed to
recognise this similarity of treatment.
Sir Henry Taylor sings that
“The world knows nothing of its greatest men;”
but the world, nevertheless, is always anxious to learn what-
ever it can pertaining to the leaders of thought. It would,
6 INTRODUCTION.
of course, savour of impertinence to ransack all the private
history of any distinguished writer, in order to gratify a
morbid curiosity, by publishing to the world details which
concern such personage alone. But it is another matter when
by means of biographical or local details, light is attempted
to be thrown upon the method of a writer's art. It then
appears to be so far from useless or impertinent, as to be
a positive boon. What would we now give to be able to
pierce all the meaning of Shakespeare's sonnets? And this
same spirit may—without fear of challenging hostile criticism
—be carried towards the elucidation of occult passages, and
the recognition of original places and persons, provided such
enquiries do not trench upon personal grounds. It seems to
me, therefore, that the author of the succeeding work deserves
commendation for his compilation; he has discovered a chain
of evidence in support of his theories which is little short of
overwhelming, while the narrative itself cannot fail to be
deeply interesting to all admirers of the illustrious novelist.
Observation is unquestionably one of George Eliot's most
notable characteristics. Her humour is perhaps the only
other quality which can be put in comparison with this for
the fulness of its development. Every novelist possesses
some endowment of the faculty of observation, or his labours
would be absolutely futile. But in George Eliot it is a great
moving force—her works are a series of magnificent panoramic
productions. Natural and easy to a degree in the use of her
pencil, she describes a farm-yard as minutely and faithfully
as she draws her most striking characters. Her eye seems
almost to be omniscient in its grasp of the points of a land-
scape ; and her power is equally great over the aggregate and
the single. The scenery of the Midlands may not afford
scope for the most sublime descriptions—we behold there
INTRODUCTION. * 7
neither a Pass of Glencoe, nor a coast washed by the wild
waves of the Atlantic—the massive is almost wholly absent,
but the beautiful is everywhere ; and of this George Eliot is
cognizant. She is able to enlist our attention, and to preserve
it, where an inferior artist would assuredly fail. As I have, on a
previous opportunity, had occasion to observe, take the sketches
of Raveloe, Milby, Shepperton, and others, and where can there
be found more accurate painting? The author has been the
connecting link between us and that village life which we can
no more forget and obliterate from the memory than we can
those records which are more personal. One objection, which
at first seems to have some force, is brought against these
writings; and that is, that they are restricted in their scope.
While facile princeps in dealing with village life, the author
has given us too few glimpses whereby to test her powers in
depicting the scenes and people of the great hives of popula-
tion. But there is abundant evidence to prove that here, too,
she would be at home. I imagine that there is scarcely a
book which could be named that shows so much of pure
observation alone as “Middlemarch.” And there is abundant
internal evidence in that work to support the theory advanced
in the following pages, that most of the scenes which George
Eliot has drawn are to be found in Derbyshire and an
adjacent county. Setting aside for a moment the subjective-
ness of “Middlemarch,” all that wonderful analysis of
character which has given it a name and a place for ever, we
clearly perceive that the outer impressions of the village and
its inhabitants are perfect and complete. We see how true
must be the personal appearance of the various characters :
the work is one that is complete all round. There are scenes
and places hit off by only just a few words; such as in the
ride to Stone Court, where a Midland landscape in all its
8 INTRODUCTION.
quiet beauty is put upon the canvas. Everything speaks to a
mind like the author's. The language of the fields, the
rivers, and the woods, is no sealed one to her. And, as she
herself says of those aspects of scenery, “these are the
things that make the gamut of joy in landscape to Midland-
bred souls—the things they toddled among, or perhaps learned
by heart, standing between their father's knees while he drove
leisurely.” The fund of enjoyment for the observant eye
must indeed be profound, and a perpetual spring of refreshing.
The art of depicting scenery is rarely found in a very eminent
degree, and certainly seldom in those who have other pro-
nounced qualifications for the novelist. George Eliot is one
of the few who possess this rare gift.
Her enjoyment of nature, therefore, must be keen and
intense. It is made manifest in every work she has given to
the world. And the same thing may be said of her love for
her own species. How entirely she has made their histories
her own may be gauged by the reading of any of her novels.
In the succeeding work much light is thrown upon the
dramatis persona of many of her novels; and it is demon-
strated conclusively that her heroes and heroines are no
creatures of the imagination, but have had a flesh-and-blood
existence in the heart of England. Dorothea, Adam Bede,
Silas Marner, Maggie Tulliver, are not mere names; they are
existences as positive and palpable as our own. We have had
their souls laid bare before us; the coat of mail in which
men and Women resolutely attempt to encase themselves, has
been removed in all these people, and we know them almost
as they knew themselves. In very few writers has this
marvellous faculty of penetration been so powerful. And it
is the product of the intensely sympathetic nature which the
author possesses. Her fellows are to George Eliot brothers
INTRODUCTION. 9
and sisters, for whom she has a yearning, and whose existence,
when sorrowful, she would endeavour to make light. With
this passport to the inner lives of her characters, she stands
forth as the creator of types. He is the great artist who feels,
perceives, and reproduces : and in these several aspects, there
is no writer of the present generation who transéends the
author of “Middlemarch.”
GEORGE BARNETT SMITH.
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GEORGE ELIOT IN DERBYSHIRE.
t|ANY critical articles have been written on
| the works of George Eliot, and amongst the
lords and ladies of letters there is not much
doubt now about the eminent position in litera-
ture of the author of “Middlemarch.” In fiction,
the novels of George Eliot are unrivalled as studies
of English country life, and they are given to
us in quiet, subtle sentences that will supply
many future writers with their best phrases.
These works have helped to make the English
language richer and purer. The early volumes
are amongst the best specimens of powerful,
simple English, since Shakespere. Many authors
attempt to prove their strength by drenching our
strong Saxon words in pools of modern mud,
and then presenting us with strange compositions
about impossible people. It is difficult to under-


12 GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BYSHIRE,
stand the works of such writers; and when,
after much mental vexation, we fancy we have
hit the real meanings, we often realise that we
have wasted our time, and that the little kernels
of sense do not repay us for the great trouble
of cracking the huge rhetorical and mystical nuts.
In the novels of George Eliot we do not find
any trickery of this kind, although in her latest
work, which is now appearing in pieces, we may
be inclined to think there is a falling off. The
occasional flights of strange scientific simile do not
delight us after the pure unaffected strength of earlier
years. George Eliot has not spent her time in
trying to hide her weakness, but in drawing
marvellous pictures of life as she has seen it.
She has given us her thoughts of ordinary men and
women she has met, and she has talked to us of the
unromantic places in which they have lived. She
has not painted noble knights with nodding plumes,
nor ladies pining in mysterious castles. She has been
content to draw people who for the most part are
neither very good nor very bad. She has taken her
characters from that very large majority of our fellow-
countrymen of the insignificant stamp described in the
fifth chapter of “Amos Barton : ”—
At least eighty out of a hundred of your adult male
fellow-Britons returned in the last census are neither extra-
ordinarily silly, nor extraordinarily wicked, nor extra-
GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BYSHIRE]. 13
ordinarily wise; their eyes are neither deep and liquid with
sentiment, nor sparkling with suppressed witticisms; they
have probably had no hairbreadth escapes or thrilling
adventures ; their brains are certainly not pregnant with
genius, and their passions have not manifested themselves at
all after the fashion of a volcano. They are simply men of
complexions more or less muddy, whose conversation is
more or less bald and disjointed. Yet these commonplace
people—many of them—bear a conscience, and have felt the
sublime prompting to do the painful right ; they have their
unspoken sorrows and their sacred joys ; their hearts have
perhaps gone out towards their first-born, and they have
mourned over the irreclaimable dead. Nay, is there not a
pathos in their very insignificance—in our comparison of
their dim and narrow existence with the glorious possibilities
of that human nature which they share.
It is in the “Scenes of Clerical Life” that we get
the early impressions of the writer; and if we turn
to her last work, we shall find that they have not
deserted her.
In “Adam Bede’” she reminds us that our fellow-
mortals must be accepted as they are... We can
neither straighten their noses, nor brighten their wit,
nor rectify their dispositions; and she tells us that
it is these people amongst whom our life is passed
that it is needful we should tolerate, pity, and love :
it is these more or less ugly, stupid, inconsistent
people whose movements of goodness we should be
able to admire—for whom we should cherish all
14 GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BY SHIRE,
possible hopes, all possible patience. “And I would
not, even if I had the choice, be the clever novelist
who could create a world so much better than this,
in which we get up in the morning to do our daily
work, that you would be likely to turn a harder,
colder eye on the dusty streets and the common green
fields—on the real breathing men and women, who
can be chilled by your indifference or injured by your
prejudice; who can be cheered and helped onward
by your fellow-feeling, your forbearance, your out-
spoken brave justice.” So she is content to tell her
simple story, without trying to make things seem
better than they are; dreading nothing, to use her own
words, but falsity, which, in spite of one's best efforts,
there is reason to dread. “Falsehood is so easy, truth
so difficult. The pencil is conscious of a delightful
facility in drawing a griffin—the longer the claws, and
the larger the wings, the better; but that marvellous
facility which we mistook for genius is apt to forsake
us when we want to draw a real unexaggerated lion.”
It is for this rare, precious quality of truthfulness
that she delights in many Dutch paintings, which
lofty-minded people despise. Therefore, she says,
let us always have men ready to give the loving pains
of a life to the faithful representing of commonplace
things—men who see beauty in these commonplace
things, and delight in showing how kindly the light
GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BYSHIRE, 15
of Heaven falls on them. “There are few prophets
in the world; few sublimely-beautiful women; few
heroes. I can't afford to give all my love and
reverence to such rarities : I want a great deal of
those feelings for my everyday fellow-men, especially
for the few in the foreground of the great multitude
whose faces I know, whose hands I touch, for whom
I have to make way with kindly courtesy.” These
sentences may be taken as a key to nearly all
George Eliot has written.
Dickens revealed the heroism of humble life, but
he did so with exaggerated colours, and for his study
he took specimens of mankind so rare that we can
scarcely think of them as men and women who have
lived in this world. Thackeray, though not so
attractive as his rival, is often nearer to life. In
the novels of George Eliot, however, there is more
true painting than in either or both. She reminds
us more of Fielding than of any other writer. With
greater success than other novelists, she has shown
us ordinary men and women as we have seen them.
Take, for instance, Molly, the housemaid, in “Adam
Bede.” She has a turn-up nose and a protuberant
jaw. The ordinary novelist would not be likely to
give much attention to her unless for criminal
purposes. But George Eliot shows us that she is a
tender-hearted girl, and as Mrs. Poyser said, a jewel
16 GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BYSHIRE,
to look after the poultry; but we are told that her
stolid face showed nothing of this maternal delight,
any more than a brown earthenware pitcher will show
the light of the lamp within it.
It has been said that Shakespere made the laws
of his own land serve for all nations, and that he
also made descriptions of his native county serve
for all countries. We wish now to show or suggest
that George Eliot has taken the greater part of her
material from one county. It was, we think, about
the hills and dales of romantic Derbyshire that she
met many of the characters that fill her novels.
When these articles appeared in London Society,
the editor was informed by letter that the author
had “fallen into a strange mistake in saying that
the scenes of all George Eliot's novels are laid in
Derbyshire. The scene of ‘The Mill on the Floss”
said the correspondent, “is certainly Lincolnshire.
St. Oggs is Gainsborough. The Floss is described as a
tidal river, (Book I. c. i.) and I do not think I am
wrong in saying there is no river in Derbyshire where
the tide ebbs and flows. Gainsborough is on the Trent,
which is here tidal, and the description of St. Oggs
applies in the minutest particulars to Gainsborough.
For example, the description of the old hall (Book I.
c. xii.) exactly describes the old hall at Gainsborough,
particularly as to the ‘towers of finest brickwork’
GEORGE ELIOT IN DERBYSHIRE]. 17
and ‘the ancient half-timbered body with its oak-
roofed banqueting hall.’ The warehouses spoken
of as being by the river side, the timber trau, the
flatness of the country, and the descriptions of
St. Oggs, all point unmistakeably to the mind of
anyone acquainted with the town to Gainsborough.
Moreover, the dialect is Lincolnshire, as I can testify
from an acquaintance of many years' standing with
the county and its dialect ; again the county town
is ‘Lindum,’ evidently intended for Lincoln. Thirdly,
in one part of the novel, though I cannot just now
lay my hand on the passage, mention is made of the
aiger, or tidal wave, coming up to St. Oggs. This
tidal wave comes up to Gainsborough with the
spring tide.” The author did not fall into the
mistake attributed to him. He did not say that
the scenes of all George Eliot's works are laid in
Derbyshire; nor did he make any statement like
to it. It has been impossible for him to reform
this part of his work, because the statements never
appeared in his articles. What he said before he
says now, and “the same he is free to maintain.”
He is still obliged to the correspondent for his
particulars about St. Oggs and Gainsborough.
The World, in a leading article on George Eliot
which appeared several months ago, comes round to
the subject of these articles—“ the chief scene of
C
18 GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BYSHIRE,
action in Adam Bede was at once identified with
Wirksworth in Derbyshire. / Dinah Morris was
discovered to be none other than Elizabeth Evans,
the preacheress, who played an important part in
Derbyshire Methodism. / Adam Bede was William
Evans, and the only inaccuracy it was said of which
the author had been guilty was in wedding Dinah to
Adam instead of to his brother. Last year several
articles were written in a magazine in support of
this local belief, and it was mentioned that the
natives of Wirksworth have quite recently erected
a tombstone in memory of Elizabeth Evans, better
known as Dinah Morris. Between the story of the
heroine of the novel and the heroine of the
Derbyshire village, there is, doubtless, a similarity.
Both wear a Quaker's bonnet ; Dinah Morris, the
magazinist points out, preaches on Hayslope Green,
Elizabeth Evans on Roston Green; the former
stayed in prison with Hetty Sorrel when she was
lying under the charge of murder of her illegitimate
child; the latter stayed in prison with a young woman
accused of a similar crime. These are certainly
coincidences; but George Eliot has, if we are not
mistaken, said they are nothing more.” The reader
will judge for himself. He may at least be inclined
to call the “coincidences * “strange.” He may
even go so far after reading the letter from George
Eliot which is printed in these pages.
GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BYSHIRE, 19
At the outset of our examination we will not fly
at the strongest proof. We will begin with one word.
It is “nesh.” You will not find it in an ordinary
dictionary, and you may go from one end of England
to the other without hearing it in conversation. Still
you may often hear the word in Derbyshire, and you
will find it in the works of George Eliot. “She gets
more mesh and dillicat than iver,” says Mr. Bates of
Hester, in “Mr. Gilfil’s Love Story.” In “The Mill
on the Floss,” Luke says to Maggie, “Don’t fret, miss;
they’re nesh things, them loped-eared rabbits—they'd
happen ha’ died, if they'd been fed.” In Derbyshire,
people also say “gell” for “girl,” and they have the
same peculiarity in the novels, of George Elliot. In
“Janet's Repentance,” Mrs. Jerome says, “Hush,
hush, Lizzie little gells must be seen, and not heard.”
Silas Marner too says, “Eh, if it wasn't a sin to the
ladstowish'em made different, bless 'em, Ishould ha’ been
glad for one of 'em to be a little gell.” In “The Mill on
the Floss,” Mrs. Tulliver says, “O dear, O dear, Maggie
what are you thinkin' of, to throw your bonnet down
there Take it upstairs, there's a good gell.” In
Derbyshire one may often hear also “chanch,” for
“chance.” There is an instance in “Felix Holt, the
Radical.” Tommy Trounsem says, “I shall live at
publics and see the world, and pick up 'quaintance,
and get a chanch penny.” At the beginning of “Adam
20 GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BYSHIRE,
Bede,” Mr. Carson says to the horseman who ap-
proaches the “Donnithorne Arms,” “I’m not this
countryman, you may tell by my tongue, sir; the
gentry's hard work to hunderstand 'em. I was brought
hup among the gentry, sir, an' got the turn o' their
tongue when I was a bye. Why, what do you think
the folks here says for ‘hevn't you?'—the gentry,
you know, says ‘hevn't you :' well, the people about
here says ‘hanna yey.' It's what they call the
dileck as is spoke hereabout, sir. That's what I’ve
heard Squire Donnithorne say many a time: “it’s the
dileck,' says he.” Mr. Carson was right : there are
people in Derbyshire who say “hanna yey.” There
might be many instances given to prove that the
“dileck’ of the novels we have mentioned is the
“dileck" of Derbyshire. In “Scenes of Clerical Life,”
we are told that Mrs. Pettifer busied herself with
rousing the kitchen fire, which was kept in under a
huge “raker” a possibility by which the coal of the
Midland counties atones for all its slowness and white
ashes. The scenes of “Felix Holt” are professedly
fixed in the Midland counties. The story comes to us
with a couplet from Drayton —
“Upon the Midlands now the industrious muse doth fall,
The shires which we the heart of England well may call.”
In “The Mill on the Floss,” Mr. Glegg says,
GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BY SHIRE, 21
“Well, well, neighbour Tulliver, you may be right,
you may be right :
“When land is gone and money's spent,
Then learning is most excellent.”
I remember seeing those two lines wrote on a window
at Burton.” This piece of proverbial wisdom is repeated
in another part of the novel.
To support the assertion that the work of George
Eliot is closely linked with Derbyshire, we get our
strongest evidence from “Adam Bede.” It has often
been mentioned by London correspondents that the
story is founded on fact, but they have not said much
to make good the statement. There are people in
Wirksworth who have no doubt that “Adam Bede’”
is a story of real life; and they say that they knew
Dinah Morris by the name of Elizabeth Evans, and
that they knew the brothers Adam and Seth Bede as
the brothers William and Samuel Evans. They
believe the story is “wrong" here and there. For
instance, they say that Dinah did not marry Adam,
but Seth. George Eliot, in a letter to the writer of
these pages, begs him to understand that Dinah Morris
was never intended to be a representation of Mrs.
Elizabeth Evans; and that any identification of the two
(or of any other characters in “Adam Bede’’ with real
persons) would be protested against as not only false
in fact, and tending to perpetuate false notions about
22 GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BYSHIRE.
art, but also as a gross breach of social decorum.
But the story does not end here. We think we have
a right to say what we know about William, and
Samuel, and Elizabeth Evans. If it turns out that
their lives are like the fiction lives of Adam and Seth
Bede and Dinah Morris, this is not a reason why we
should for ever hold our peace. We do not think we
ought to be silent, even though we should be
now and then faced by “coincidences.” Elizabeth
Evans played an important part in the rise of
Methodism. The story of her life deserves a
prominent place in the history of the movement.
We have heard much about Susanna Wesley, Mary
Fletcher, Sarah Ryan, Sarah Crosby, Sarah Lawrence,
Lady Fitzgerald, Hester Ann Rogers, Grace Murray,
Elizabeth Woolbridge, and the Countess of Hunting-
don. We have heard something, too, of Elizabeth
Evans. Why should we not hear more ? She did
probably more real work than most of the women
we have mentioned. It is unfair to say that her life
is not to be written because it has already been
“done” in fiction. Her name demands a less doubtful
and different kind of honour. We do not know why
her name should be concealed, or her labours, and
birth-place and burial-place. The declaration that
the story of such a life cannot be published because it
is like the story of a fiction heroine must be protested
GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BYSHIRE, 23
against as not only false in fact, and tending to per-
petuate false notions about the duty of life, but also
as a gross breach of common sense.
William Evans, of Ellaston, was a joiner and
builder. Considering the place in which he lived, he
had a large business, and as he kept well to it, there
is not so much known of him as of his brother, who
became a “Methody,” and a preacher. Particulars are
given of the life of Samuel Evans in a brochure.
published in 1859 by Tallant and Co. It is called
“Seth Bede, ‘the Methody, his Life and Labours;
chiefly written by himself.” This little work is now
very rare. We have a copy before us. In it we are
told that those who are familiar with the county of
Derbyshire cannot have failed to notice the extreme
simplicity of the inhabitants in the more secluded
rural districts, and which the great modern innovator,
the rail, has not yet altered in any material degree.
We are told that the village referred to as Hayslope,
in “Adam Bede,” may still be seen, but little altered
by the hand of time. “True, the ‘Methodies’ have a
handsome chapel there, and the green where Dinah
breathed forth holy prayers was enclosed in 1818;
but the sign-board of the ‘Donnithorne Arms’ still
hangs out, and the red brick hall (now with unpatched
windows) is in existence still. The peasantry have
not advanced much, and have about the same twang
24 GEORGE ELIOT IN DERBYSHIRE,
and the same notions as their fathers. It is a slow
place that village, where people live on with little
exertion and no care.” Samuel Evans was born at
Toston, about sixteen miles from Derby, and about
four miles from Ashbourne, being pleasantly situated
on the Dove. In 1857 it had 475 inhabitants, the
sexes being so nearly balanced, that 237 were males
and 238 females. Samuel was born in 1777. We
are told that his father was the village carpenter and
undertaker, and was “an honest and respectable man,
as things went,”—or “as this world goes ; ” but
during the last years of his life he passed too much of
his time in the village alehouse, to the great grief of
his family. His melancholy death made a great im-
pression upon his son Seth. It appears that the poor
old man was out very late one night, and in making
his way home, accidentally fell into a brook, where he
was found dead the next morning, although scarcely
covered with water. In this way, too, Seth loses his
*
father in the novel:—
“Seth, lad, if father isn’t come home by the time we’ve
had our breakfast, I think it'll be as well for thee to go over
to Treddleson and look after him, and thee canst get me the
brass wire I want. Never mind about losing an hour at thy
work; we can make that up. What dost say?”
“I’m willing,” said Seth. “But see what clouds have
gathered since we set out. I’m thinking we shall have more
rain. It’ll be a sore time for th’ haymaking if the meadows
GEORGE ELIOT IN DERBYSHIRE, 25
are flooded again. The brook's fine and full now ; another
day’s rain 'ud cover the plank, and we should have to go
round by the road.”
They were coming across the valley now, and had entered
the pasture through which the brook ran.
“Why, what's that sticking against the willow 2° continued
Seth, beginning to walk faster. Adam’s heart rose to his
mouth : the vague anxiety about his father was changed into
a great dread. . . . This was the first thought that flashed
through Adam's conscience, before he had time to seize the
coat, and drag out the tall, heavy body. Seth was already
by his side, helping him; and when they had it on the bank,
the two sons in the first moments knelt and looked with mute
awe at the glazed eyes, forgetting that there was need for
action—forgetting everything but that their father was dead.
One of Samuel's troubles was that his Methodism
was not altogether appreciated at home. He met with
a good deal of quiet domestic ridicule. He says, “My
elder brothers often tried to tease me ; they enter-
tained High Church principles. They told me what
great blunders I made in preaching and prayer ; that
I had more zeal than knowledge.” But Samuel was
ever kind and considerate with his mother and with
his brothers. We find Seth surrounded with this
home difficulty in the novel:—
“But, mother, thee know'st we canna love just where other
folks 'ud have us. There's nobody but God can control the
heart of man. I could ha’ wished myself as Adam could ha’
made another choice, but I wouldn’t reproach him for what he
26 GEORGE ELIOT IN DERRY'SHIRE,
can't help, and I’m not sure but what he tries to o'ercome it.
But it's a matter as he doesn't like to be spoke to about, and
I can only pray to the Lord to bless and direct him.”
“Ay, thee’t allays ready enough at prayin', but I donna see
as thee gets much wi'thy prayin'. Thee wotna get double
earnins o' this side Yule. Th’ Methodies 'll niver make thee
half the man thy brother is, for all they’re a-makin' a
preacher on thee.”
“It’s partly truth thee speak'st there, mother,” said Seth,
mildly; “Adam's far before me, an’s done more for me than
I can ever do for him. God distributes talents to every man
according as He sees good. But thee mustna' undervally
prayer. Prayer mayna’ bring money, but it brings us what
no money can buy—a power to keep from sin, and be content
with God's will, whatever He may please to send. If thee
wouldst pray to God to help thee, and trust to His goodness,
thee wouldstna’ be so uneasy about things.”
“Unaisy” I’m i' th' right on’t to be unaisy. Thee’t gi’
away all thy earnins, an” niver be unaisy, as thee'st nothin’
laid up again a rainy day. If Adam had been as aisy as thee,
he’d niver ha” had no money to pay for thee. Take no thought
for the morrow—take no thought—that's what thee’t allays
sayin’; an' what comes on’t 2 Why, as Adam has to take
thought for thee.”
“Those are the words o' the Bible, mother,” said Seth.
“They don’t mean as we should be idle. They mean we
shouldn’t be over-anxious and worreting ourselves about
what’ll happen to-morrow, but do our duty, and leave the rest
to God’s will.”
“Ay, ay, that's the way wi' thee : thee allays makes a
peck o’ thy own words out o' a pint o' the Bible's. I donna
see how thee’t to know as ‘take no thought for the morrow,”
*
GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BYSHIRE, 27
means all that. An’ when the Bible's such a big book, an’
thee canst read all thro’t, an’ ha’ the pick o’ the texes, I canna
think why thee dostna pick better words as donna mean so
much more nor they say. Adam doesna pick a that'n ; I can
understan’ the tex as he's allays a-sayin', ‘God helps them as
helps theirsens.’”
“Nay, mother,” said Seth, “that's no text o' the Bible. It
comes out of a book as Adam picked up at the stall at
Treddleson. It was wrote by a knowing man, but over-
worldly, I doubt. However, that saying's partly true; for
the Bible tells us we must be workers together with God.”
“Well, how’m I to know? It sounds like a tex. But
what's th’ matter wi' th' lad? Thee’t hardly atin’ a bit o'
supper. Dostna mean to ha’ no more nor that bit o' oat-cake?
An' thee lookst as white as a flick o’ new bacon. What's th’
matter wif thee ?”
“Nothing to mind about, mother; I’m not hungry. I’ll
just look in at Adam again, and Fee if he'll let me go on with
the coffin.”
“Ha' a drop o' warm broth 2° said Lisbeth, whose motherly
feeling now got the better of her “nattering” habit. “I’ll
set two-three sticks a-light in a minute.”
“Nay, mother, thank thee; thee’t very good,” said Seth,
gratefully; and encouraged by this touch of tenderness, he
went on : “Let me pray a bit with thee for father, and Adam,
and all of us—it’ll comfort thee, happen, more than thee
think'st.”
“Well, I’ve nothin’ to say again’ it.”
Lisbeth, though disposed always to take the negative side
in her conversations with Seth, had a vague sense that there
was some comfort and safety in the fact of his piety, and that
it somehow relieved her from the trouble of any spiritual
transactions on her own behalf.
28 GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BYSEIIRE.
We read that, destined as Seth Evans was to pass
his lifetime in the service of God, it was but fitting
that he should have a partner whose face was also set
Zionwards, that they might assist each other on their
pilgrimage ; and Providence ordained that he should
be united to one of the most pure-minded and holy
women that ever adorned the Church of Christ on
earth. “It was at Ashbourne that Seth Evans first
heard Elizabeth preach, and after that they appear to
have often met each other in various parts of the
country at religious gatherings.” They were married
at St. Mary's Church, Nottingham. Samuel lived
longer than his brother. We are told that a great
attachment existed between the two brothers, although
they differed in their views on religious matters.
“When in partnership they were prosperous ; and it is
not too much to assume that the business capacity of
the elder brother was superior to that of Seth, who
was too yielding and too confiding to be entrusted
with the affairs of this world.” The history tells us
that a few days before his death Seth sent for the
carpenter, and gave full directions respecting his coffin;
and having made an exact calculation by measurement,
as to the most convenient means of moving it in and
out, they were carefully noted down, and handed over
to the undertaker for his guidance. Samuel Evans
died in the eighty-second year of his age.
GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BY SHIRE]. 29
Elizabeth Evans, like Dinah Morris in the story,
was a Methodist preacher, and lived and laboured
among the Derbyshire hills more than half a century
ago—near “Arkwright's mills there at Cromford,” as
we have it in “Adam Bede.” She is as fit for a fine
novel as is Livingstone for a grand epic. In reading
the story, it is difficult to believe that a woman as
good as Dinah ever lived; but Elizabeth Evans lived,
and her life is as beautiful as that of Dinah. She
preached in barns and outhouses, and on village greens
before cottages. She was a pure-hearted woman, of
poor parents. She lived at Wirksworth, and carried
the Gospel to the peasantry of the surrounding
villages. When she was “called” to the work she
was a beautiful young woman. She had a loving face
and soft grey eyes. Her simplicity won the sympathy
of hearers before she spoke, and disarmed the coarse
incivility of country clowns. She stood up in the
name of Methodism, but it did not mean the same
then as it does now. It was not of that modern type
which “reads quarterly reviews and attends in chapels
and pillared porticoes, but of a very old-fashioned kind.
They believed in present miracles, in instantaneous
conversions, in revelations by dreams and visions;
they drew lots and sought for Divine guidance by
opening the Bible at hazard, having a literal way of
interpreting the Scriptures which is not at all sanc-
30 GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BY SHIRE,
tioned by approved commentators; and it is impossible
for me to represent their diction as correct, or their
instruction as liberal. Still—if I have read religious
history aright—faith, hope, and charity have not
always been found in a direct ratio with a sensibility
to the three concords; and it is possible, thank Heaven!
to have very erroneous theories and very, sublime
feelings.” In her broad teaching of love, and charity,
and truth, Elizabeth Evans was far beyond the limits
of a sect. In her spiritual faith she reminds us now
and then of Joan of Arc. Elizabeth toiled among
“Nature's unambitious underwood,” and lived a life
that was a poem. Her fight was the fight of Christian
in the “Pilgrim's Progress.” She obeyed her conscience
and worked for the good of others.
In the novel the descriptions of Dinah are descrip-
tive also of Elizabeth. The heroine of fact and the
heroine of fiction are alike in walking, talking, dress,
occupation, and the fortunes of life. Each wore a
Quaker's bonnet, and lived and lahoured about the
Derbyshire hills. Dinah preached on Hayslope Green
—Elizabeth preached on Roston Green.
A beautiful prayer, preserved as having been uttered
by Elizabeth, is put into the mouth of Dinah. We
all remember how Dinah stayed in prison with Hetty
Sorrel, who had been condemned to death for the
murder of her child, and how Hetty was released from
GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BY SHIRE]. 31
death. Elizabeth Evans also stayed in prison with a
young woman who had been condemned to death for
the murder of her child. In the latter instance,
however, the condemned woman was executed, and
Elizabeth was with her to the last. And we all
remember the two brothers, Adam Bede and Seth,
carpenters, and that one became the husband of Dinah.
Elizabeth Evans knew two such brothers, carpenters,
and she became the wife of one of them.
The following sketch of the hife of Elizabeth Evans
is abridged from an account of her religious experiences,
written by her own hand, with additions made by a
Methodist preacher who accompanied her in many of
her journeys on circuit. She did not keep a diary,
and we must depend on the information of those who
knew her. We may be sure they would not state
anything untrue of her :
For a long time I have felt it my duty to write a short
account of my unprofitable life, but it is with great difficulty
that I make a beginning. However, in the fear of the Lord,
and, I trust, with an eye to His glory, I at last submit to
take up my pen.
I was born at Newbold, in Leicestershire, in the year of
our Lord 1776. My dear mother died before I was twelve
years old. She lived to God according to the light she had,
and always believed she must know her sins forgiven before
her death. On the morning she died, a cousin of my father
felt a strong conviction to visit my mother. He was in the
Methodist connexion. He set out with all speed, and when
32 GEORGE ELIOT IN DERBYSHIRE,
he arrived at my father's house he found my mother as he
thought dying. He spoke to her concerning her soul. She
opened her eyes, and said, “The Lord Jesus Christ has sent
you hither.” She immediately found what she had been so
long seeking, and almost instantly expired.
My father professed himself a Churchman, and for many
years expected to be saved by the works of the law. He
used to instruct us to fear God and be honest. He could
not bear the name of dishonesty or anything that was dis-
honourable, but he knew very little of Gospel faith or the
plan of salvation, until it pleased the Lord, in mercy, to
afflict him with a paralytic stroke, which confined him to
the house for nearly two years. Meanwhile our dear friends
visited him very much, and I have reason to believe that
he became soundly converted to God. His last and most
earnest request was to be buried in the Methodist burying-
ground. Prior to this, meetings were held in his own house
a year and a half. He was buried in the Griffy Dam Chapel-
yard, in the Ashby Circuit.
But I must, as I proposed, give some account of the
dealings of God with my own soul. What I have suffered
through the loss of my dear mother can only be explained
in eternity; but the Lord’s ways are in the whirlwind, and
“what we know not now we shall know hereafter.”
Elizabeth's mother left four children—two boys and
two girls. Elizabeth was the youngest daughter. Her
father took a second wife, and the step-mother used
the children with great cruelty. In consequence of
ill-usage Elizabeth wandered from home, and after a
long search she was found under a haystack by her
father.
GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BY SHIRE, 33
I believe the Lord directed me to leave my father's house
when I was little more than fourteen years old. I lived
at Derby for about seven years, with a family that knew
very little more about religion than myself. We had plenty
of prayer-books and saying of prayers, but very little heart-
felt religion. Previous to this time, when I was about seven
years of age, the Lord blessed me with a little light con-
cerning the nature of preaching. I saw that reading was not
preaching. I could read a sermon, and yet I could not
preach, and I thought that to read it over like a schoolboy
was not the way that God intended His gospel should be
preached.
We hope this thought has occurred to many of our
modern clergymen.
I was powerfully impressed with a sense of the shortness
of time, and the awful consequences of dying in sin, from
the sermons preached in the Methodist chapel. The texts
were, “In hell he lifted up his eyes,” and “Here we have
no continuing city, but seek one to come.”
This must have been in the old preaching-place, near
the All Saints' Church, Wirksworth. The King
Street Chapel was not then built. There is an alley,
called Amen Alley, on the opposite side of the church.
It is not difficult to understand why it was so named.
It is pointed out as the place where the old Methodists
used to preach.
The conviction never wore off to the day of my conversion
to God. At this time I was very young. The Lord continued
D
34 GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BYSHIRE].
to strive with me, and to keep me from falling into many
grievous sins. I used to say many prayers and strictly
examine myself by the law of Moses every night. I always
felt condemn d from these words : “Thou shalt not take the
name of the Lord thy God in vain.” I saw that he who
offendeth on One point is guilty of all. These words were
most powerfully impressed on my mind : “Cursed is every
one that continueth not in all things written in the book of
the law to do them.” What to do I knew not. I wept and
prayed and longed to find the living way, though I was lost
and confused, and dark and blind. Oh! how I longed for
instruction . But I had no one to take me by the hand, or
I believe at that time I should have been brought to a know-
ledge of the truth. Oh how I prayed the publican's
prayer—“God be merciful to me a sinner.” I had some
quaint views of Christ coming into the world to save sinners,
but how I was to be saved by Him I could not tell. I
wandered in the dark, sinning and repenting for a long time.
..I removed to Nottingham, but had not the privilege of
going to the meetings. I loved the Methodists, and always
believed that if ever I was religious I should be one ; but I
had no acquaintance with any of them until I was more than
twenty years of age. The tears I have shed on this account
are known only to the Lord. I had now left service and was
at liberty to serve God, but I reasoned for a few weeks with
the enemy of my soul. I thought I never was happy, but I
would be if possible. I sometimes went to the giddy dance,
sometimes to card-playing, shameful to tell, after such
repeated convictions for sin; but I could not find what I
sought for, viz., happiness. I only grew more and more
miserable until Easter Tuesday, which, I believe, was April
18th, 1797.
GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BY SHIRE, 35
The Rev. George Smith had just returned from Newfound-
land. He preached in the Back Barn, and our people were
turned out of their chapel through Mr. Kilham's division.
This was Ockley Chapel. There was no other in
the place at that time.
The preacher took for his text, “Who art thou, great
mountain?” There was a great work among the people.
Many were crying out for mercy ; and the Lord’s people
Were Very earnestly engaged in prayer, and often broke out
in singing, “Praise God from whom all blessings flow.” I
saw no confusion in the matter. I concluded that sinners
Were repenting of their sins, as I ought to do. And the
people of God were so anxious for them to be saved; and
these things caused them to rejoice. I longed for repentance
more than I did for anything in my life, but I felt great
hardness of heart. But while I was looking to Christ the
mighty power of God fell upon me in an instant. I fell to
the ground like one dead. I believe I lost my senses for a
season; but when I recovered the dear friends were praying
with me, and I was weeping most bitterly. It pleased the
Lord in about two hours to speak peace to my soul. I arose
from my knees, and praised God for that opportunity.
Our dear friends omitted inviting me to a class, which might
have proved hurtful if the Lord had not blessed me with
courage, for I knew not one Methodist in the town ; but I
asked a young woman if she knew where any Methodists
lived. She said her father was one. I went and spoke to him
concerning the Society. He invited me to go with him to the
class. I went without hesitation, and felt it both my privilege
and my duty.
36 GEORGE ELIOT IN DERBYSHIRE,
I had entirely done with the pleasures of the world, and
with all my old companions. I saw it my duty to leave off
all my superfluities of dress; hence I pulled off all my
bunches—cut off my curls—left off my lace—and in this I
found an unspeakable pleasure. I saw I could make a better
use of my time and money than to follow the fashions of a
vain world.
It is well-known that Mr. Wesley wished the women
of his society to dress after the fashion of the Society
of Friends ; and when old age came upon him, he
regretted that he had not made it one of the conditions
of membership. “But, alas !” says he, “what can I
do now?” This part of the autobiography will also
recall the effect on Bessy Cranage of Dinah's preaching
in “Adam Bede”:—
[“Poor child poor child ! He is beseeching you, and you
don’t listen to Him. You think of earrings, and fine gowns
and caps, and you never think of the Saviour who died to save
your precious soul. Your cheeks will be shrivelled one day,
your hair will be grey, your poor body will be thin and
tottering ! Then you will begin to feel that your soul is not
saved; then you will have to stand before God dressed in your
sins, in your evil tempers and vain thoughts. And Jesus,
who stands ready to help you now, won’t help you then ;
because you won’t have Him to be your Saviour, He will be
your judge. Now he looks at you with love and mercy, and
says, “Come to me that you may have life; then He will
turn away from you, and say, ‘Depart from me into ever-
3 59
lasting fire.
GEORGE ELIOT IN DERBYSHIRE, 37
Poor Bessy’s wide-open black eyes began to fill with tears,
her great red cheeks and lips became quite pale, and her face
was distorted like a little child’s before a burst of crying.
“Ah poor blind child ” Dinah went on, “think if it
should happen to you as it once happened to a servant of God
in the days of her vanity. She thought of her lace caps, and
saved all her money to buy 'em ; she thought nothing about
how she might get a clean heart and a right spirit, she only
wanted to have better lace than other girls. And one day,
when she put her new cap on, and looked in the glass, she
saw a bleeding Face crowned with thorns. That face is
looking at you now ; ” here Dinah pointed to a spot close in
front of Bessy. “Ah ! tear off those follies! cast them
away from you as if they were stinging adders. They are
stinging you—they are poisoning your soul—they are dragging
you down into a dark bottomless pit, where you will sink
for ever, and for ever, and for ever, further away from light
and God.”
Bessy could bear it no longer; a great terror was upon her,
and wrenching her earrings from her ears, she threw them
down before her, sobbing aloud.]
In a little time the Lord inclined me to read and pray much
in private, on my knees. Oh! the precious seasons I experienced
in this exercise ! In a little more than one year after this, the
Lord convinced me of the necessity of being sanctified, and
more sensible than ever I was of being pardoned. I sought
this blessing almost day and night, for even in sleep my mind
was occupied with the subject. I had many fears concerning
it. I thought if I got the blessing I should soon lose it again.
Besides I was not prepared for it. But under the prayer of
that man of God, Mr. Bramwell, I was enabled to lay hold on
38 GEORGE ELIOT IN DERBYSHIRE].
the blessing, and to sink into the purple flood. I held this
blessing with a trembling hand, and was enabled to grow in
the grace wherein Istood, and to rejoice in hope of a greater
glory, still pressing after the fulness of God; for it is one
thing to be emptied of sin, and to feel nothing contrary to
love, and another to be filled with the fruits of righteousness.
I experienced many deep baptisms into the spirit of God. I
saw it my duty to be wholly devoted to God, and to be set
apart for the Master's use; and after many struggles,
thousands of tears, and much prayer, with fasting, I did enter
into a glorious liberty. I could truly say, “I am crucified
with Christ; I live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me.” Ohl
the blessed deadness to the world, and to everything in the
world, and the creature, I cannot describe. I began to act a
little in prayer meetings, and to visit the sick, and to do
anything the Lord set me about. .*
Mr. Bramwell observed, in a sermon, “Why are there not
more women preachers? Because they are not faithful to
their call.” I concluded that if ever the Lord called me I
would be faithful, and almost immediately I felt it my duty
to call sinners to repentance. I laboured under this conviction
for nearly two years. Travailing in birth for souls, the love
of God was as a fire shut up in my bones, and the thoughts of
the blessed work of bringing sinners to Christ drank up my
spirits so that I knew not how to live. I felt assured that if
I did not preach I never could be happy, for I was sensible it
was the will of God. But how it must be brought about I
could not tell, for I felt shut up, and I did not tell my mind,
for I was determined never to open the door myself. I gave
myself to continual prayer and searching the Scriptures that
I might not deceive myself; but the more I prayed, and
GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BYSEIIRE 39
fasted, and read the word of God, the stronger my call was
felt, until I knew not how to live. The language of my heart
was, “Oh, that I had wings like a dove, then would I fly away
and be at rest.”
The first thing that induced me to lead a class and to exhort
at meetings was, that I caught the putrid fever, by visiting a
poor distressed family. I became very ill, and wished to go
“home” to my Father's. I prayed to the Lord and exercised
faith in Christ. I did not send for a doctor. I thought when
Christ was applied unto, in the days of His flesh, by any, and
for anything, either for body or soul, He did for them what-
ever they had need of, and while I was looking to Him and
exercising my faith upon Him, I most powerfully felt these
words, “And He took her by the hand, and the fever left
her.” And I felt, in the twinkling of an eye, that all the
fever was gone, and all my pain had ceased. I was quite
restored to health. Glory be to God
I went to Derby. The dear people begged I would lead a
class. We also had a blessed prayer meeting, I spoke a
little, and some good was done. This was the means of my
becoming acquainted with the dear friends that first opened
the door of usefulness unto me. I cannot help seeing the kind
hand of a gracious God in these things, however others may
sneer, and call it enthusiasm, or what they please. A second
time happened in 1801 or 1802, which was made a blessing to
my soul. A Mary Voce, a poor unhappy woman, poisoned
her child. She was confined in the town gaol at Nottingham,
tried at the March assizes, and condemned to suffer. A Miss
Richards (now in Heaven), who was eminently pious and
useful, was granted the favour of being with her night and
day, until the morning of her execution. I longed to be with
her also, and how my heart rejoiced when I heard Miss
40 GEORGE ELIOT IN DERBYSHIRE,
5
Richards say, “Betsy, go with me to the gaol directly.”
Accordingly I went, and a most mournful night we had.
John Clarck determined not to eat or sleep until the Lord
answered his prayer for her. And at two o'clock in the
morning the Lord satisfied his mind. We each felt something
of it. The next night Mr. John Taft came to see us, and
John Clarck came also. At this time she was in great distress,
and I felt her sins too great a burden for her to bear. All she
wanted was mercy.
At one time she was so hardened that she watched
for an opportunity to take away the lives of these
pious women. She confessed to them that if they had
fallen asleep she should have tried to strangle them.
At seven o’clock (on the morning of the execution) we all
knelt down to prayer, and at ten minutes before eight o'clock
the Lord in mercy spoke peace to her soul. She cried out,
“Oh how happy I am the Lord has pardoned all my sins,
and I am going to heaven.” She never lost the evidence for
one moment, and always rejoiced in the hope of glory. Is it
not by grace we are saved through faith? And is not the
Saviour exalted at the Father's right hand to give repentance
to Israel and forgiveness of sins? If salvation were by works
who would be saved? The vilest and worst may come unto
Him. None need despair. None ought to presume. Miss
Richards and I attended her to the place of execution. Our
feelings on this occasion were very acute. We rode with her
in the cart to the awful place. Our people sang with her all
the way, which I think was a mile and a half. We were
enabled to lift up our hearts unto the Lord in her behalf, and
she was enabled to bear a public testimony that God in mercy
GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BYSHIRE, 41
had pardoned all her sins. When the cap was drawn over her
face, and she was about to be turned off, she cried, “Glory !
glory ! glory ! the angels of God are waiting around me.”
And she died almost without a struggle. At this awful spot
I lost a great deal of the fear of man, which to me had been
a great hindrance for a long time. I felt if God would send
me to the uttermost parts of the earth I would go, and at
intervals felt I could embrace a martyr's flame. Oh, this burn-
ing love of God, what will it not endure? I could not think
I had an enemy in the whole world. I am certain I enjoyed
that salvation, that if they had smote me on one cheek, I
could have turned to them the other also. I lived
“The life of Heaven above,
All the life of glorious love.”
I seemed myself to live between Heaven and earth. I was not
in Heaven because of my body, nor upon earth because of my
soul. Earth was a scale to Heaven, and all I tasted was God.
I could pray without ceasing, and in everything give thanks.
I felt that the secret of the Lord is with them that fear Him.
If I wanted to know anything I had only to ask, and it was
given, generally in a moment. Whether I was in the public
street, or at my work, or in my private room, I had continual
intercourse with my God; and many, I think I may say
hundreds of times, He shone upon His Word, and showed me
the meaning thereof, that is, texts of Scripture, so as to
furnish me with sufficient matter to speak to poor sinners for
a sufficient length of time.
Now, it may be asked, would the All-wise God have done
these things for me and in me if He had not intended to
accomplish some blessed design? If the person had been a
42 GEORGE ELIOT IN DERBYSHIRE].
male instead of a female, would it not have been concluded at
once, “he is called to preach ; certainly these things testify
the truth of it?” But it is argued, “I suffer not a woman to
speak in the church.” Is the Apostle alluding to preaching?
I believe not. If he is, in other places he contradicts himself,
which under inspiration he could not do. And does he not
sanction women labouring in the Gospel? Is the Apostle
alone in this matter? Search the Old and New Testaments,
and you will find many daughters that did prophesy, or were
prophetesses. And Joel says: “In the latter days, saith
God, I will pour out my spirit upon my servants and hand-
maids.” So that you see the dispensation is not ended. But
let us see what a wise and good man (Dr. Adam Clarck) has
to say on the subject : “Let your women keep silence in
the churches” (1 Cor., 14 c., 34 v.).
[This was a Jewish ordinance. Women were not permitted
to teach in the assemblies, or even to ask questions. It was
taught that a woman should know nothing but the use of her
distaff.] “This was their condition till the time of the
Gospel, when, according to the prediction of Joel, the Spirit
of God was to be poured out on the women as well as the men,
that they might prophesy, i.e., teach. And that they did
prophesy or teach, is evident from what the Apostle says
where he lays down rules to regulate this part of their conduct
while ministering in the Church.”
It is evident from the context that the Apostle refers to
asking questions, and what we call dictating in the assemblies.
It was permitted to any man to ask questions, to object,
altercate, or attempt to refute, in the synagogue; but this
liberty was not allowed to any woman.
“The religion preached by Paul was a new religion, and it
was and still is the character of women to be inquisitive; and
Gº EORGE ELIOT IN DER BYSHIRE, 43
not being able to comprehend all that was taught, they would
naturally interrupt by asking questions. St. Paul says: ‘If
they will learn anything, let them ask their husbands at
home.’”
I went to my master to give him notice to leave his service,
not knowing what might befall me, for I did not know how
soon I might return, as the Lord had shown me I should be
much opposed, but, blessed be the Lord, I had a little of
Abraham’s faith. I told my master I must leave his work.
“Leave l’ he replied, in astonishment. “Why, what art
thee going to do? Can thou better thyself? We cannot part
with thee, thou art one of the old hands. I will advance thy
wages, and give thee as much as thou can get anywhere.” I
said, “Sir, I must go into the country, the friends wish it,
and I may stay many weeks together.” He said, “Go, and
thy place shall be kept for thee as long as thou will say thou
will have it; and thou shall go and come when thou please,
and no one shall say a word to thee.” I think no one can
help seeing the hand of the Lord I this, as it was as good as
an independency, to me. Whenever I had done my work I
returned, and met with nothing but kind treatment. I went
by coach to Derby, and called upon an intimate friend of mine
at Miss Willis's. After tea I left my friends, and retired to
pray. I prayed about one hour and went down, but I did not
feel fully satisfied. I retired again, and how long I continued
I do not know, but the Lord was pleased to show me His
glory in such a manner as He never showed me before. The
room was filled with angels and glory. My soul was filled
with the glory of God. I felt
“The speechless awe that dares not move,
And all the silent Heaven of love.”
44 GEORGE ELIOT IN DEPBYSHIRE).
I went on my way rejoicing to the place appointed. I was
taken to a Miss Bond, a governess of a boarding-school, and a
class leader. She behaved like a Christian to me. A good
man, a class leader, came to me, and said, “Sister, I hope you
will not be hurt with what I am going to say to you. Our
young preacher and circuit steward have written to Nottingham
to stop you.” I said, “I am here already, and if the Lord
has anything for me to do, I will do it. If not I am willing
to return.”
The leader said, “You shall hold a meeting.” Accordingly
we went, and had a powerful time. Many were in distress,
but much could not be done because of unbelief. I went from
place to place, and the Lord gave me great light into His
Word. He was my very present help in every time of need.
I felt many waters could not quench love, and when the
Prince of this world came he found nothing in me contrary to
love. I could always have been with God in private. It was
a pain to be called down to eat anything. My appetite was
nearly gone. I soon lost my colour, and grew weak and
poorly; but many were brought to the Lord in the Burton
circuit, who stood nobly in their Master's cause. Several
have fallen asleep in Jesus, among whom you may find a Mr.
John Ordish. Those were blessed days. I can scarcely think
of them without weeping.
She was one day preaching in an orchard. Mr.
Ordish and some of his youthful companions were under
the hedge on the outside, being ashamed to be seen
mingling among the crowd. She drew the bow at a
venture. The arrow reached, and stuck fast in the
young man's conscience, and ended in his conversion.
He became a local preacher.
GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BY SHIRE, 45
I was out sixteen weeks, during which time I met with
much opposition. I was looked upon by some as a vile
impostor, and not fit to live, but my language was
“For this let men revile my name:
No cross I’ll shun, I fear no shame.
All hail reproach, and welcome pain,
Only Thy terrors, Lord, restrain.”
At length my way was blocked up, and there was not a single
door open to me for a long time. Two blessed families,
namely, Mr. Smith, of Griffy Dam, and Mr. Gold, of Brown
Hill, in the Leek circuit, kindly offered me a home if I would
live with them, but this I could not do.
I returned to Nottingham again, and went to my work, and
was received joyfully ; but I was not so happy as I had been,
for in this dark and cloudy day I gave way to reasoning which
proved hurtful to me. I must forbear speaking of particulars,
as they are so painful to me; but I believe if I never had
returned, and kept in the work, I should not have married.
But painful reports and painful opposition cannot
now affect her. A report was circulated that she made
collections and appropriated the money to her own
use ; and it was once said that the gown in which she
stood up to preach was obtained by such means. One
woman with whom she had lodged apparently credited
this report, and watched her narrowly. - Mrs. Evans
said, “I know what you are looking at. You are
looking at my gown ; but I bought it with my own
money.” But the woman would not let her go without
searching her bundle.
46 GEORGE ELIOT IN DERBYSHIRE,
I lost great glory, but not sanctification. I loved God with
all my heart, but I had not that clear light, and that burning
zeal, and that close union, as before. I could say much on
this head, but I forbear. I believe many things which I
suffered were occasioned by my own short-sightedness, and
the want of love in others; and were I to explain the whole,
it would do no good to any one, and my desire is to do no
harm. In the course of twelve months I was united to my
dear husband, and O what things occurred to distress my
mind | Those that formerly thought I did wrong in preaching
now said I was fighting against God, and that the door for
usefulness was then wide open. I could not see my way clear
to marry, and only eternity can clear up this point for me.
However, I am fully persuaded that I could not have had a
more suitable companion. He loved the Lord’s blessed work
from his heart, and did not only preach himself, but made
every way he possibly could for me. Blessed be the Lord
I felt the very day I was married as though I married not.
In going to her future home, she addressed her
husband as “my brother.”
I was enabled to pursue my way at every convenient
opportunity to speak in the name of the Lord. I met with
very little persecution or opposition when I had a friend to
plead my cause, and the work of God broke out, and we had
most powerful times. Many were brought into peace, and I
believe the whole village had a powerful call. We had access
to several fresh places.
She said that she never felt quite at home until they
went to live at Milhouses, near Wirksworth. This
was nearly twelve years after she wrote this story of
GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BY SHIRE, 47
her life. At this time they lived on Roston Common.
They then went to Burton-on-Trent, and afterwards to
Derby. There were not many places around Derby
at which she did not preach. The circuit was very
large. When indisposed her husband would send her
to fill his own appointments. He was once called to
task by the superintendent of the Quarterly Local
Preachers' Meeting. He said, in answer to the charge,
“The half of me went.” “The half of me !” exclaimed
the superintendent ; “Brother Evans has learned a new
logic. He might have added, too, ‘the better half.”
He was planned once at Breadsell. It was in the
depth of winter. He took with him his wife and
several friends. Their nearest way was by footpath
through Breadsell churchyard. When the time came
to return home, it was very dark, and some reluctance
was shown to take the footpath. One of the party
volunteered to be the guide. “Come on,” he shouted ;
“I’ll lead you right.” He then walked into a newly-
made grave, and several went in after him. When
they lived at Derby they held meetings at their own
house. A member of the Society of Friends occasion-
ally visited them and addressed the company. He had
a habit of hitching up his trousers, and at the same time
taking a step, so that he finished his discourse at the
end of the room opposite to where he began. While
living at Roston, Mr. Evans went to Lichfield to
48 GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BYSHIRE,
obtain a licence for a house which they had opened for
Divine Service. The bishop granted the licence, saying,
“I will license your pig-stye if you like.” They carried
the Gospel to Cubley, Elison, and Roston, and preached
at Ashbourn Green, and also at surrounding villages.
Many times they had to return home with empty
stomachs, but with glad hearts.
I believe we are where the Lord would have us to be.
When Mr. White was in this circuit, a friend asked him to
let me lead a few backsliders. He said I might lead all the
backsliders in the town, so I formed a class of about four
members, and, glory be to God! since that time four classes
have sprung out of it. I believe that there never has been
that power attending my speaking as at first, but glory be to
God . I do see some fruits of my labours which encourage my
mind. I do feel a confidence that the Lord will never leave
nor forsake me. I feel I am the Lord's, and all I want is to
glorify my God below, and find my way to Heaven. I declare
before the Lord, who searcheth all hearts, that what I have
written is intended for His glory ; and though there are many
omissions, yet there is to my knowledge nothing but the truth.
And I declare, before a heart-searching God, that my reasons
for speaking in His holy Name are, and always were, from a
sense of duty; and not because I thought myself sufficient to
do anything of myself, or to please myself in anything, but
to be the servant of Christ. And I don’t at all repent of
anything which I have done in this blessed work of striving
to Snatch sinners from a burning hell, only that I have not at
all times acted wisely, and that I have not had more zeal for
His glory, and that I have not had more pure love mixed up
GEORGE ELIOT IN DERBYSHIRE, 49
with all my performances. When I take a view of my life, I
conclude that at the very best (that the most devoted part of
it) I have been an unprofitable servant. I believe there has
not been a day wherein Imight not have done something more
for God, and received more of His grace. I see I need the
atoning blood to all my performances to render them accept-
able to God, and, glory be to God! this I feel I have. It is
God that justifies; who is he that condemneth 2 It is Christ
that died, and He is my all and in all. He is everything to
me that I want. Since I have written this I have as sensibly
felt the Divine favour and approbation concerning it, as I do
feel that I am in existence.
Here ends the story of Mrs. Evans's life as briefly
told by herself; and here begins the story as told by
a local preacher, who went on circuit with her and
worked with her. In the foregoing narrative he has
inserted some statements of his own.
In the year 1810 a chapel was built by the Wesleyan
Methodists in Wirksworth, to which there was attached
a Sunday-school. About a year after, Miss Ellen
Hallam was deputed to go to Derby to ask Mrs. Evans
to come over and preach what were then called the
charity sermons. To this request Miss Hallam kindly
consented; and as there were neither railways, stage-
coaches, nor omnibuses in these parts in those days,
Miss Hallam had to perform the journey on foot, a
walk of about twenty-eight miles.
50 GEORGE ELIOT IN DERBYSHIRE.
The fact that a woman was going to preach in the
chapel created no small stir, both in town and country,
and the false reports that were in circulation about her
and the Methodists in general, added greatly to her
popularity. The chapel was densely crowded on both
occasions. One of these reports had reached the ears
of the narrator, and excited his boyish curiosity. He
was then a scholar in the Church Sunday-school. He
had been warned, in common with the rest of the boys,
not to go near the Methodist chapel. In the evening,
however, he went to hear the woman preach. The
first thing that attracted his attention, was a small
Quaker-shaped bonnet that hung on a holder in the
wall. He then noticed the woman preacher. There
was also another woman in the pulpit, with a baby on
her knee. The service was not commenced when the
boy entered the chapel. In a little while the woman
preacher gave out a hymn. She had on a cap that
fitted close to her head, and the border was without a
plait. The rest of her attire was equally plain. In
those days she had a rosy face and was stout. After
singing, she prayed and preached without a book. In
the year 1812 her husband came to Milhouses, near
Wirksworth. The manufacture of small ware was
commenced in the district, and Mr. Evans and others
were employed there. In the following year the
narrator was employed by the firm, and became well
GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BY SHIRE, 51
known to Mrs. Evans and her husband. The Christian
friendship thus commenced lasted till her death.
When they had become settled in their new home they
felt for the spiritual welfare of the neighbourhood.
They opened their house for preaching on a Sunday
morning, the preacher always being a welcome guest
at dinner afterwards.
At this time Mrs. Evans was not on the plan, but
vacancies were often left for her, and any of the
preachers were glad to give up an appointment for her.
She laboured a good deal at home, using means for the
spiritual welfare of those employed by her husband.
A service for exhortation and prayer was begun and
carried on by Mrs. Evans and her husband. It was
held every Wednesday in the forenoon. Several of
the “hands” were converted, and a class was formed
at Milhouses, which was led by the husband.
About the year 1815 a revival broke out in
Wirksworth, in which Mrs. Evans took a prominent
part. She preached a good deal in the open air,
almost in every part of the town. The narrator has
seen her labour until her cap has been drenched with
perspiration. Her prayers were agony. “Many were
added unto the Lord.” But the most remarkable
outpouring of the Spirit took place in the year 1818.
Two days before Good Friday in that year Mrs. Evans
had been preaching in the factory. She spoke in
52 GEORGE ELIOT IN DERBYSHIRE,
language that reached many hearts. At that time the
factory was worked by a relay of hands, and Good
Friday made no difference with manufacturers. On
this Wednesday night the factory was stopped, and
Mammon had to give place to the cries of mercy. A
local preacher attempted to preach, but his voice was
lost in the cries of the penitents. The night was
spent in prayer and praise. There were no complaints
in those days of cold chapels, poor congregations, and
poor collections. Mrs. Evans had a very large share
of converts added to her class in this revival. A
youth, who joined about this time, died two years
afterwards. His last words were, “Glory! glory !
glory !” Another became a missionary, and laboured
ten years in the West Indies. Mrs. Evans was the
mother of a large family. She helped to maintain
them by doing some of the factory work at home.
Although so much engaged by household affairs, she
found time in the week to visit her members and the
afflicted, and to collect for the missionary cause. She
was always usefully employed. She did not while
away her time, or spend it in idle gossip with her
neighbours. She was not only pious abroad, but pious
at home.
The factory did not give good accommodation for
partaking of meals. The men were obliged to crowd
into a small place which was used as a counting-house
GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BYSHIRE, 53
to have their dinner. Mrs. Evans went to the place
One day, and it was full. She said to her husband,
“My dear, thou should'st pray with these folks.” He
replied, “My dear, thou should'st set the example.”
“So I will,” she said ; and she fell on her knees and
prayed with them. She had often invitations to
preach, not only in her own circuit, but in other
circuits. She never put the societies to unnecessary
expense. She generally walked to the places appointed.
If she had to go a long way, a friend would sometimes
lend her a vehicle or a pony.
About the year 1822 the Rev. W. E. Miller and the
IRev. R. Gibson were appointed to the Cromford circuit.
Mrs. Evans knew the former when in the Nottingham
circuit, and he had some recollection of her. She lost
no time in giving him an invitation to her dwelling.
She also sent invitations to all the local preachers in
the town and neighbourhood to meet at her house on
a certain day. They took tea together, and afterwards
spent a couple of hours in spiritual conversation and
prayer. Mr. Miller enjoyed a high state of grace, and
very earnestly pressed upon his local brethren the
necessity of enjoying the blessing of entire sanctifica-
tion. The conversation was a blessing to some. Mrs.
Evans fully entered into it. The younger part of the
company sat as listening learners. *
In the year 1823 the Lord again visited His people.
54 GEORGE ELIOT IN DERBYSHIRE,
There was again a shaking among the dry bones, and .
a revival of religion that far exceeded all that had
taken place before was the result. Mrs. Evans entered
into the work with all her might. Preachers and
people had one object—the glory of God and the
salvation of souls. All worked that could work, and
all prayed that could pray. The chapel now became
densely crowded, and a considerable amount of money
was promised towards its enlargelment ; but it did not
meet the approbation of some, and was never carried
out. Every sitting was occupied, and many others.
were wanted; but there were none to let.
The Stanton people had heard that the Lord was
among the people of Wirksworth, and many came to
the love-feasts out of the circuit of Bakewell. Mrs.
Evans was invited to preach at Bakewell. She
accepted the invitation. The preaching then was at
the house of brother John Gladwins. Mrs. Evans
very often visited Stanton, and great good was done.
A chapel was built, to which was attached a Sunday-
school, and a prosperous society, which sent out two
missionaries.
On one occasion she was invited to go to Toulgrave.
The narrator had to go to Stanton the same day.
They went part of the way together. She had a pony
and he had a donkey. He could not make the brayer
go. Mrs. Evans tried it, and failed also, and there
GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BYSHIRE, 55
was considerable difficulty in accomplishing the journey.
The day was not a very profitable one. Good was
done in the morning; but at the close the devil put
his foot in, and spoiled all. The woman who had
invited her had no authority to do so, and neglected to
let the friends know ; but the appointed preacher
kindly gave up the service, and she preached an
excellent sermon. Soon after she went to preach at
Wessington Green. The day was beautifully fine.
There were very few houses in the neighbourhood;
but a multitude of people gathered together to hear,
the preacher. At the close of the service a well-dressed
woman went up to Mr. Evans and said, “Sir, twenty
years ago I lived servant with Mrs. W , at K–,
and while I lived with her I robbed her of half-a-crown.
I have been a miserable woman ever since. Will you
have the kindness to make her out, and give her this
half-crown l’ Mr. Evans was true to his trust. He
found the lady, and gave her the half-crown; but she
had no recollection of such servant ever being in her
service.
Mrs. Evans was called upon to preach at Farzely.
One of the leaders was greatly prejudiced against a
woman preaching; but after the service he said, “If
the devil himself could preach like that, I would go
and hear him.” She visited Tamworth and Ashby-de-
la-Zouch. The latter place and the country around it
56 GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BYSHIRE,
had been favoured much with her labours in her
younger days. She preached at Leeds in conjunction
with Ann Carr and Martha Williams. The Derby
and Burton-on-Trent circuit had much of her labour.
In the early part of her life Mrs. Evans was advised
by some of the itinerant preachers to join the Society
of Friends. She often observed to the narrator that
ber path would have been far more pleasant had she
done so ; besides, she would have had a greater field
for labour. In her younger days she experienced
much opposition ; but while living in the Cromford
circuit her path was pleasant, until a Mr. F C3Iſle
into the circuit, and he plainly told her “he was no
friend to female preaching.” It was generally under-
stood that a resolution had been passed in Conference
to discourage it. Certain pious and talented women
were rising up in the Derby circuit, and promised to
be very useful; but the superintendent, at a public
meeting, declared “he would have no woman preaching
in his circuit.” This led to a division in the circuit.
Mrs. Evans, with a few others, retired. A new con-
nection was formed, and amalgamated with the
Wesleyan Association, contrary to the wishes of the
societies.
Trials of a business character now came thick upon
her husband. His father was a joiner, and he had
been brought up to the trade with the rest of his
GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BYSHIRE]. 57
brothers. They lived at a village a few miles beyond
Ashbourn. It was here that Evans and his helpmate
first settled, and here “she laboured much in the Lord.”
They removed to Burton, and, after much mental and
physical suffering, went to Derby, where he obtained
a knowledge of the machinery used for small-ware
manufacture. He had a partner with him in his
business of joiner and builder. They made what they
believed to be improvements in the machinery. They
went to Wirksworth, where they took a portion of a
mill and commenced business on their own account.
Their improvements had many drawbacks, which ran
away with much of the profit; but the partners made
money. They were about the first to commence power-
weaving in that branch of business in this country,
and the reader will understand that large profits were
made, when he is informed that men received half-a-
crown then where twopence-half-penny is now paid.
Other manufacturers improved the machinery. There
was a lively competition, and the result came to the
Evanses in the shape of ruin. At a time when age
had overtaken them, adversity broke down the health
of Mrs. Evans. Where were her friends in her time
of trial? Where were the Wesleyans and the
Methodists?—where were the people she had helped
and loved through long years?—where were the sinners
who had been called to repentance!—where were the
58 GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BYSHIRE).
brethren? It is the old story: they left her alone in
adversity. Very few entered her house to give her
their sympathy and prayers; but she knew the Lord
was with her, and in Him she had an abiding refuge.
Some respectable people of the town (not connected
with the same church) looked kindly on her and on
her husband.
She related a remarkable incident to the narrator.
She was acquainted with a Miss Richards, who in
illness said to her, “Hark, Betsy don't thou hear
heavenly music?” “No,” was the reply. “Come
here and put thy head upon mine.” She did so, and
for a moment or two she heard the most sweet music
she ever heard on earth. This is beyond the narrator's
comprehension, and he leaves it without comment.
The last eight years of her life she passed through
the furnace of affliction, but in the midst of all the
Lord was with her, and she felt Him present in the
furnace, and shouted her Deliverer's name. Three
parts of her life were spent in doing the will of God,
and the rest in suffering it. It would be hard to say
in which state she glorified God the most ; but whether
in doing or suffering the will of her Lord, she was
preparing to meet her reward.
A few weeks before her death, she related a remark-
able dream, which she always believed to be illustra-
tive of her life, and from which she derived much
GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BYSHIRE. 59
consolation. She had been eight or nine years in the
way to heaven. She dreamed she was going a long
journey, and the way was up a steep hill. There
followed her what appeared to be lions. They roared
most awfully, but they were somehow prevented from
getting at her. They followed until she reached the
top of the hill, when they left her. On the summit of
the hill there stood a beautiful palace. The door was
ajar. She entered, and was met by a woman wearing
a drab-coloured gown, a white shawl, and a plain cap.
As soon as this woman saw the newcomer she
commenced dancing and shouting, “She's come ! she's
come 1 she's come !” with all her might. “Her
enemies have not been too mighty for her " The
dreamer was then taken to a large room. It was
surrounded by beings that were glorious and happy.
At the head of a large table there sat a noble-looking
personage. As soon as she entered the room, he rose
from his seat and said to her, “Butter and honey
shalt thou eat all the days of thy life;” and she awoke.
She said that dream had been a comfort to her all
through her Christian pilgrimage; and although she
had been pursued by enemies all the way through life,
she believed she should arrive safely at last at the
palace of her glorious King.
The last two years of her life she was confined to
her habitation by a painful affliction, which was made
60 GEORGE ELIOT IN DERBYSHIRE,
very profitable to her soul. Often has the narrator
heard her glorify God in the fire. He has been
surprised to hear her bursts of rapture, when a little
before she had been only able to whisper. There were
times when she had to combat with the enemy. It
was not to be expected that Satan would allow a soul
like hers, that had been the means of doing so much
good to others, to slip out of the world into heaven
without making some effort to destroy her peace, if
not to ruin her for ever. One night when she was
very full of pain, these words were impressed on her
mind: “I have heard thy groanings, and am come
down to deliver thee.” She said, “Do, Lord, come
quickly.” She felt much comforted and happy.
Instantly the enemy suggested to her, “The Lord
you serve deals very hardly with you in afflicting you
so long.” She felt grieved that she should for one
moment have had such a thought. She cried unto the
Lord, “Have I sinned, or is it my infirmity? Have
not other Christians had similar conflicts when passing
through the valley of the shadow of death!” The
Lord was mindful of the promise He had given. He
came down in the power of His Spirit and delivered
her from temptation. Words were applied to her
mind which gave her great comfort: “But ye are
washed, but ye are sanctified in the name of the Lord
GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BY SHIRE]. 61
Jesus, and by the spirit of our God;" and then, in
accents of praise—
“I have an advocate above,
A friend before the throne of God.”
She was unspeakably happy the remaining part of
the night. In relating the temptation she said:
“Thou knowest, Isaac, all such unkind thoughts of
God have been as poison to my mind. I know the
Lord has been with me all through the wilderness,
and hath led me with a gentle hand. Thou knowest
I could not help the temptation. It seemed as if
Satan would thrust it into my heart.” She said what
a comfort these words had been to her :
““Fear not, my brethren, I shall stand
On the borders of the land;
Jesus Christ, the Father's Son,
Bids ye undismayed go on.’”
A few weeks before her death she had this dream :
“I saw in one corner of the room" (pointing with her
finger) “the bottomless pit. I saw Satan and a great
multitude of fiends like himself, and a very many
people apparently in great agony. Satan looked
vicious at me. Oh I cannot tell thee what an ugly
being he appeared to me. I looked at him and at all
the others quite undismayed, for these words were so
sweetly applied to me:
“Not all the power of hell can fright
A soul that walks with Christ in light,
He walks and cannot fall.’”
62 GEORGE ELIOT IN DERBYSHIRE].
Here she stopped, and said to a friend, “You must
not stumble over the last line, my dear. It is con-
ditional that they cannot fall while they walk with
Christ in light.
* Clearly he sees and wins his way,
And shining to the perfect day,
He more than conquers all.”
Since I have had this dream I have not been much
harassed. I believe it was to show me that he was
not allowed to plague me any more. How good the
Lord is Praise His holy name !” One night she
was sitting on the bedside. She was not able to lie
down, being full of pains. A friend supported her.
All at once she exclaimed :
“‘See from His head, His hands, His feet,
Sorrow and love flow mingled down
Did e'er such love and sorrow meet 2
Or thorns compose so rich a crown 2''”
And again :
“‘Angels assist ye noble powers,
Strike all your harps of gold ;
And when you’ve raised your highest notes,
His love can ne'er be told.’”
She wept for a long time, but they were tears of
joy. When she had recovered a little she shouted:
“‘Worthy the Lamb that died, they cry,
To be exalted thus ;
“Worthy the Lamb,” our hearts reply,
For He was slain for us.
Glory be to God. Hallelujah 1”
GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BYSHIRE, 63
The friend who was with her said : “I shall never
forget that night so long as I live. I have been in
meetings where there has been a great influence and
good feeling, but I never experienced anything like
that. I asked her if she had seen anything in the
room, and how it was that she had strength to shout
so loud, when but a little time before she was so low
that I had scarcely been able to hear her speak. She
said: “I did not see anything with my mortal eyes,
neither did I shout with my own strength : the Lord
enabled me, love. I never in my life had such a
clear view of my precious Saviour's sufferings on the
cross as I had then. It was showed to me so clearly
how He suffered for sinners, and bled for all, for you
and for me —
“Love so amazing, so divine,
Demands our soul, our life, our all.” ”
She asked me if I felt the sweet glory that was in
the room. I told her I never felt anything to equal
it. She said: ‘I am very thankful thou didst. I
trust thou wilt get some good to thy soul.’” One
night, a week before she died, she exclaimed, “Oh
how happy I shall be when I have gained the victory.
Canaan is a happy place. Will ye go to the land
of Canaan' " She remarked to her friend that
they had had some very happy seasons together in the
night. She said they were attended at times by
\
64 GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BY SHIRE,
invisible spirits, that were sent by the blessed God to
administer comfort. A few days before her death her
memory began to fail her. She told her friend she
could not pray more than a minute or two at a time
before she found herself rambling. She said, “It is
all right. I am quite happy. If it is the Lord's will,
I wish to keep sensible, so that I may praise my
Maker while I live ; but His will be done.” Some-
times she would commence repeating a portion of
Scripture or a verse of a hymn, and then lose the
thread of what she was trying to repeat. Then she
would turn to her husband and say, “But thou
knowest, my dear, I can praise God.” She was very
anxious that every one who came to see her should
pray with her. She would say to them, “Bless you !
kneel down and pray.” But many of her friends
seemed to think that she was too holy to need an
interest in their prayers. When her husband was in
the room, she never allowed many minutes to pass
without asking him to pray. Throughout her religious
life she was a woman of prayer. She was a practical
comment upon “Pray without ceasing; ” and her
prayer was agony, and agony with her was heaven.
A day or two before her death there were times when
she seemed almost unconscious; but she would still
rave about prayer, and ask some one to pray. A short
time before her death she said, “Oh how happy I
GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BYSHIRE, 65
am I don't feel to want anything to eat or drink.
I am inexpressibly happy. It may be a lightening
before death. The Lord only knows. His will be
done. Glory be to God . "
The narrator left his employment in the middle of
the day, and hastened to her bedside. He found her
sensible and able to speak a little. He had been
chosen to improve the event of her death whenever
it should take place. She asked him what would be
his text, and he told her, “She hath done what she
could.” She shook her head, and said, “I have not
done what I could. I would rather it should
be ‘Now they desire a better country.’” He
said, “Most likely the woman could have per-
formed more acts of kindness, both to the Saviour
and others; but the Saviour spoke comparatively.
She had expended all her living upon Him. Her
whole stock was gone. What could she do more? So
it is I must speak comparatively of you.” With this
explanation she seemed satisfied. He then said, “I
have one question to ask you. I do not ask you for
my own satisfaction, but for the satisfaction of others.
You know there are many who think you have done
wrong in preaching, and you have had to suffer much
on that account. How do you feel now on that matter?”
He remembers her look, manner, and words. “Tell
F
66 GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BY SHIRE.
the people I do not repent preaching the Gospel. I
only repent that I have not been more faithful.” She
talked about the funeral with great composure, and
gave orders how everything should be conducted.
Her friend, to whom these orders were given, said, “I
do not like you to say so much on that subject. We
will talk about something else.” She replied, “I do
assure thee it is a pleasing subject to me. To die
would be gain.”
The following night she was much lower. She often
said, “Let me die the death of the righteous, and let
my end be like unto His.” She thought she might
have another attack of the enemy. She prayed that
God would preserve her from it. She rested upon the
Lord's faithfulness, and Satan was not allowed to
annoy her any more. She said, “I am convinced we
lose much by not expecting answers to our prayers,
and by not exercising faith when we pray. How
insulting it is to the Almighty when his children pray
and don't expect that for which they pray.”
On the Sunday she altered much. She seemed to
arouse herself for some extra effort. She talked
wonderfully loud in admonishing her family. She
asked them very pressingly to sing a verse, but they
were all overwhelmed with sorrow, and could not. In
the night she began to sing “Other refuge have I
GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BYSHIRE, 67
none,” but she could not proceed. On Monday she
was labouring under great pain at her chest, and, to
all appearance, insensible as to what was going on in
the room. On Tuesday the narrator went to see her.
He found her perfectly sensible, and asked her if
Christ was precious. She waved her hand. She was
unable to speak, except in a low whisper. He said,
“I understand the sign you mean. You have got the
victory !” She nodded assent, and again waved her
hand. By the motion of her lips, he thought she
asked him to pray. He asked if he should do so.
She again nodded, and he prayed. When he arose
from his knees she put out her hand and took an
affectionate farewell. Then she lifted up both her
hands as if commending him to God, that he might be
kept faithful, and that they might meet again in the
better world. In the afternoon her friends thought
she was dying. Her husband came into the room,
took her by the hand, and said, “My dear, thy race is
almost run.” She said, “Glory ! Thou hast fought a
good fight. Thou hast kept the faith, and there is laid
up for thee a crown.” She continued sensible through-
out the day.
About nine o'clock in the evening the narrator
called again. She appeared to be in a sound sleep.
After waiting a short time, she opened her eyes and
68 GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BYSHIRE.
put out her hand. He said, “Your journey is nearly
ended.” She raised her hand. “The Lord gives you
the victory.” She gave the usual sign. He said, “It
was through the blood of the Lamb,” and she shook
her head, as was her manner when in health. Then
she put out both her hands that they might raise her
up. She made an effort to speak, but could not.
She motioned with her lips for him to pray. She lay
as if in sleep an hour or two. She appeared to
breathe quicker, and her hair came down before her
face. She said they must call the family up, for she
was going. Her husband had just got in the room,
and fallen on his knees, when she breathed her last.
It was her wish that her funeral might be without
ostentation, and that she might be buried like the
Quakers, and that no stone or monument should be
raised to her memory, but that she should be laid near
to Mr. Thomas Spicer, who was a Methodist local
preacher for nearly fifty years. She was buried
according to her desires.
It may be that by this time our readers believe
there is some connection between Dinah Morris and
Elizabeth Evans. There is no reason why the artist
that painted Dinah should be ashamed of her model,
and push aside the remembrance of it to exclaim, “I
GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BY SHIRE, 69
made it up, all out of my own head l’” Her reputa-
tion will not suffer because it is proved that with drops
of ink she can give us faithful portraits of men and
women she has met. Dinah and Elizabeth are alike
to this extent: they lived in the same part of the
same county; they were women preachers, performing
the same peculiar duties; they were alike in body and
in mind, and had the same troubles and experiences;
they prayed the same prayer in the same words; they
were married, and were called to prison to comfort a
sinner there. It may be that one was never intended
to be a representation of the other. That George
Eliot, however, knew one and made the other may be
taken for granted.
Let us turn to “Adam Bede’’ once more. Dinah
preached without her bonnet. While she was near
Seth's tall figure she looked short; but when she
mounted the cart, and was away from all comparison,
she seemed above the middle height of woman, though
in reality she did not exceed it—an effect which was
due to the slimness of her figure and the simple line of
her black stuff dress. She held no book in her
ungloved hands, but let them hang down lightly crossed
before her, as she stood and turned her grey eyes on
the people. There was no keenness in the eyes.
They seemed to be rather shedding love than making
70 GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BYSHIRE,
observations; they had the liquid look which tells
that the mind is full of what it has to give out, rather
than impressed by external objects. It was a small
oval face, of a uniform transparent whiteness, with an
egg-like line of cheek and chin, a full but firm mouth,
a delicate nostril, and a low perpendicular brow,
surmounted by a rising arch of parting between
smooth locks of pale reddish hair. The hair was
drawn straight back behind the ears, and covered,
except for an inch or two above the brow, by a net
Quaker cap. The eyebrows, of the same colour as the
hair, were perfectly horizontal and firmly pencilled;
the eyelashes, though no darker, were long and
abundant; nothing was left blurred or unfinished. It
was one of those faces that make one think of white
flowers with light touches of colour on their pure
petals. The eyes had no peculiar beauty beyond that
of expression; they looked so simple, so candid, so
gravely loving, that no accusing scowl, no light sneer,
could help melting away before their glance. This is
George Eliot's portrait of Dinah Morris, and by this
description Elizabeth Evans is recognised.
The proverbial general reader is not easily convinced.
The people of Wirksworth, however, have no doubts
about this matter we are considering; and it will
probably be admitted by the most stubborn that they
GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BY SHIRE, 71
at least know something of what they are doing and
saying. In 1873 a committee was formed at
Wirksworth for the purpose of securing a memorial to
perpetuate the memory of “Dinah Bede.” A circular
was printed and published under these words: “Verily
I say unto you, wheresoever this gospel shall be
preached in the whole world, there shall also this that
this woman hath done be told for a memorial of her.”
And this was the statement made to the public : “A
generation has nearly passed away since the death of
Mrs. Elizabeth Evans, who was distinguished for
extraordinary piety and extensive usefulness. The
remarkable circumstances of her personal history, her
preaching talents, and her philanthropic labours have
since been immortalised by a popular author in our
standard literature. The name and doings of ‘Dinah
Bede’ are known over the whole world, and yet no
memorial whatever of her has been raised in the towns
where she lived and laboured, or on the spot, in
Wirksworth graveyard, where her ashes repose. We,
whose names are hereunto placed, having an imperish-
able recollection of Mrs. Evans's gifts, grace, and
goodness, are desirous of placing a memorial tablet in
the Methodist chapel at Wirksworth, to perpetuate
the memory and usefulness of the so-called ‘Dinah,’
and of ‘Seth Bede,’ her honoured and sainted
72 GEORGE ELIOT IN DERBYSHIRE.
husband.” Then comes a general paragraph, asking
for subscriptions, and the “names are hereunto
placed.” The tablet has been put up, with this
inscription:-
ERECTED BY GRATEFUL FRIENDS,
IN MEMORY OF
MRS. ELIZABETH EVANS
(known to the world as “Dinah Bede’),
WHO DURING MANY YEARS PROCLAIMED, ALIKE IN THE
OPEN AJR, THE SANCTUARY, AND FROM HOUSE
To . Hous F.,
THE LOVE OF CHRIST :
She died in the Lord, May 9th, 1849; Aged 74 Years.
AND OF
MR. SAMUEL EVANS,
HER HUSBAND,
WHO WAS ALSO A FAITH FUL LOCAL PREACHER
AND CLASS-LEADER IN THE METHODIST SOCIETY:
He finished his earthly course, December 8th, 1858;
Aged 81 Years.
GEORGE ELIOT IN DERBYSHIRE. 73
The tablet has been erected in this chapel because it
was here that Elizabeth Evans preached, although not
here only. It is said that the chapel at Warmbrook
might be more fitly called Dinah Bede's chapel than
the one in which the memorial has been placed. The
chapel at Warmbrook was not built for Elizabeth and
her sister preachers. They laboured there, however,
for many years. Elizabeth several times expressed a
wish that she might be buried under her pew at this
chapel. There can be no doubt that Warmbrook has
strong claims.
In her work Elizabeth not only won sinners from
their evil ways, and led them by quiet paths to a
better life; she made not only converts, but preachers,
and women preachers. Some of her fire was caught
by others, but they had not her light. She was far
above her pulpit followers, and it was perhaps
unfortunate that some women should have considered
that they were fit to preach, and were “called” to
the pulpit. With the best intentions in the world, no
doubt, they threw a false colour into that admiration
which had been innocently and honestly won by an
exceptional woman. Elizabeth was above them.
They could not reach her standard of work or thought.
They helped to bring ridicule upon women preachers,
and they unintentionally interfered with Elizabeth's
74 GEORGE ELIOT IN DERBYSHIRE,
privileges. There were some who accepted her pulpit
sisters, and some who did not, and the end was that
they were soon in a condition enabling them to appre-
ciate the proverb which says, that a house divided
against itself cannot stand. The offended Methodists
encouraged agitation against the new preachers, and
they were at length officially expelled. It was in this
way that Elizabeth Evans was appreciated amongst
her own people. It is now given out that the decision
of the Conference would not have affected her, and
that it was meant for the women who did not give
satisfaction. This was an odd law, and Elizabeth
made her conduct consistent with it. The order was
that women should not preach in the pulpits.
Elizabeth would not disobey the letter of the law, but
she acted against the spirit of it, in what may be
called a justifiable manner. She did not go into the
pulpit, but she preached from the steps of the pulpit.
In this way she kept her work well before her; but
she irritated her opponents, who believed they had
overcome her.
The subject is touched in “Adam Bede.” Mr.
Irwine says to Dinah, “Your Society sanctions women
preaching, then?” and she replies, “It doesn't forbid
them, sir, when they've a clear call to the work, and
when their ministry is owned by the conversion of
GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BYSHIRE, 75
sinners and the strengthening of God's people. Mrs.
Fletcher, as you may have heard about, was the first
woman to preach in the Society, I believe, before she
was married, when she was Miss Bosanquet ; and Mr.
Wesley approved of her undertaking the work. She
had a great gift, and there are many others now living
who are precious fellow-helpers in the work of the
ministry. I understand there's been voices raised
against it in the Society of late; but I cannot but
think their counsel will come to nought. It isn't for
man to make channels for God's Spirit as they make
channels for the watercourses, and say, ‘Flow here,
but flow not there.”
The time came when Elizabeth would not preach in
the chapels of the Connexion; but she never deserted
her simple method of winning people to better lives.
She went into the villages, and gave out the Word.
She was well known at Bolehill, Brassington, Kirk
Ireton, Middleton, and other places. She has often
stood up in Wirksworth market-place, now and then
on market day, to call men and women from evil
ways.
The interior of the old Methodist chapel at Wirks-
worth, wherein the tablet has been placed, has been
altered of late years. The pulpit in which Elizabeth
preached has been preserved, but it is now removed to
76 GEORGE ELIOT IN DERBYSHIRE,
the schoolroom adjoining the chapel. Wirksworth, in
a small way, has remembered the woman who has
made the little place well known. We have in
England large towns and cities that have neglected to
honour their famous sons and daughters. We have
lately come to the centenary of Southey. He was
born in Narrow Wine Street, Bristol. It did not
occur to the inhabitants of the dull and dirty city that
they might appropriately acknowledge the hundredth
birthday of the poet Southey, who was born amongst
them. We ought not to be surprised, however, when
we remember the kind of way in which they honour
Chatterton. Bedford has put up a monument to the
dreamer John Bunyan; and the hundredth birthday
of Robert Tannahill has been remembered at Paisley;
and now the people of quiet little Wirksworth have
done something in remembrance of the pretty woman
who preached in their market-place.
It has been stated from time to time that the
novelist has done but faint justice to the life of
Elizabeth Evans. It is not easy to understand this.
Men who make such statements allow their enthusiasm
to run away with their discretion. The future will
probably give us a biography of Elizabeth Evans—a
large book, containing nearly all that is known of her;
but we may safely say that it will not give us so
G|EORGE ELIOT IN DERBYSHIRE, 77
perfect an idea of Elizabeth's work as we may get
from the story of “Adam Bede.” A plain, unvar-
mished account of the life of the woman preacher will
be most acceptable—and, indeed, it ought to have been
put together years ago; but the biography, at the best,
will be imperfect. Because Elizabeth wrote some
particulars of her work for publication, she was
accused of pride and egotism, failings which are not
consistent with anything she ever said or did. On
this account she expressed a wish that nothing should
be said or written in praise of her, and that a stone
should not be placed over her grave. As a further
means of escaping commendation, she destroyed her
letters and papers, which would have told us stories
that we shall now never know. The coming biography
may give us a plain string of facts, and the compiler
will perhaps not pretend to do more. If we want to
get at the inner life of Elizabeth Evans we must still
go to “Adam Bede,” and think with Dinah. Here is
a passage that may not be strictly correct of Elizabeth,
but it will give us a better idea of the beginning of
her work than any biography we are likely to get—
(Dinah is speaking to Mr. Irwine):—
“It was one Sunday I walked with brother Marlowe, who
was an aged man, one of the local preachers, all the way to
Hetton Deeps. That’s a village where people get their living
78 GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BY SHIRE,
by working in the lead-mines, and where there's no church
or preacher ; but they live like sheep without a shepherd.
It's better than twelve miles from Snowfield, so we set out
early in the morning, for it was summer time; and I had a
Wonderful sense of the Divine love as we walked over the
hills, where there's no trees, you know, sir, as there is here,
to make the sky look smaller, but you see the heavens
stretched out like a tent, and you feel the everlasting arms
around you. But before we got to Hetton, brother Marlowe
was seized with a dizziness that made him afraid of falling,
for he overworked himself sadly, at his years, in watching
and praying, and walking so many miles to speak the Word,
as well as carrying on his trade of linen-weaving ; and when
we got to the village the people were expecting him, for he'd
appointed the time and place when he was there before, and
such of them as cared to hear the Word of life were assembled
on a spot where the cottages was thickest, so as others might
be drawn to come. But he felt as he couldn’t stand up to
preach, and he was forced to lie down in the first of the
cottages he came to. So I went to tell the people, thinking
we'd go into one of the houses, and I would read and pray
with them. But as I passed along by the cottages and saw
the aged, trembling women at the doors, and the hard looks
of the men, who seemed to have their eyes no more filled
with the sight of the sabbath morning than if they had been
dumb oxen that never looked up to the sky, I felt a great
movement in my soul, and I trembled as if I was shaken by
a strong spirit entering into my weak body; and I went to
where the little flock of people was gathered together, and
stepped on the low wall that was built against the green
hillside, and I spoke the words that were given to me
GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BYSEIIRE. 79
abundantly, and they all came round me out of all the
cottages, and many wept over their sins, and have since been
joined unto the Lord. That was the beginning of my
preaching, sir, and I’ve preached ever since.”
In such passages we can get not only at the work,
but at the thought of the woman preacher. When
we spend an hour with her we can understand in some
way the feelings she must have known. It would be
worth living for to feel as many a fighting knight of
old must have felt, with a good and glorious cause at
his back, and a firm, bright sword in his hand, with
the blood of a tyrant upon the blade; and it would be
worth living for, and it would be good for us, to feel
as Elizabeth Evans must have felt, void of offence,
honestly striving for her fellows, and full of quiet,
strong love and forbearance, with the holy spirit of
truth about all her paths.
And now let us leave Dinah and Elizabeth, and the
beautiful story of real life that has been given to us in
the name of fiction.
As we again turn over the pages of George Eliot's
works we can find more words and passages to link
the name of the novelist with Derbyshire. We are
taken to Crompton and to Duffield, names that are not
unlike Cromford and Driffield. In “Amos Barton’’
Mrs. Hackit speaks of measly pork. This word is
80 GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BY SHIRE,
very common in Derbyshire, In “Silas Marner” we
are told of a lady who said “mate” for “meat,” and
“’appen” for “perhaps.” At the Red House “the
tankards are on the side-table still, but the bossed
silver is undimmed by handling, and there are no
dregs to send forth unpleasant suggestions: the only
prevailing scent is of the lavender and rose-leaves that
fill the vases of Derbyshire spar.” At Oakburne, the
ostler at the Royal Oak remembered such a young
woman as Adam Bede described getting out of the
Treddleston coach more than a fortnight ago—“wasn't
likely to forget such a pretty lass as that in a hurry—
was sure she had not gone on by the Buaton Coach
that went through Snowfield.”
There is good reason why we should believe that
Derbyshire is the one particular county in which
George Eliot has studied. In nearly all her novels we
have some proof of the assertion, and this suggests
repetition. This is, perhaps, not a very serious charge.
Shakespeare repeated some of his best points. By
way of emphasis to what we have said, however, let
us consider some of the repetitions of George Eliot.
We can look upon “Scenes of Clerical Life” as a
kind of sketch book that supplied material for the
stories that followed it, nearly all of which might have
been published under the same title—“Scenes of
Clerical Life.”
GEORGE ELIOT IN DERBYSHIRE]. 8]
In the second chapter of “Amos Barton” we are
told that “at that time—the time of handloom
weavers—every other cottage had a loom at its
window, where you might see a pale, sickly-looking
man or woman pressing a narrow chest against a board,
and doing a sort of treadmill work with legs and
arms.” It may be interesting to the reader to compare
this passage with the opening sentences of “Silas
Marner.”
Amos Barton may have suggested Adam Bede. In
both stories popular novels are spoken of with
contempt.
The equation of income and expenditure offered new
and constantly accumulating difficulties not only to
Mr. and Mrs. Barton, but to Mr. and Mrs. Lydgate in
“Middlemarch.”
In the beginning of the seventh chapter of “Amos
Barton” the writer says: “I wish to stir your
sympathy with commonplace troubles—to win your
tears for real sorrow : sorrow such as may live next
door to you—such as walks neither in rags nor in
velvet, but in very ordinary decent apparel.” The
seventeenth chapter of “Adam Bede’’ is written that
the reader may thoroughly appreciate this teaching.
Even the dogs suggest each other. Ponto behaves
very much like Gyp. It may be said that all dogs
G
82 GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BYSHIRE,
behave very much alike; but descriptions of their
behaviour are not always alike. In several places,
too, the writer speaks of animals being agreeable
friends that ask no questions and pass no criticisms.
Mrs. Poyser has several counterparts, who say
things after her manner. Mrs. Raynor had a doctor
who knew her constitution, and there is a woman in
“Middlemarch " who has also a doctor with this
virtue.
In “Janet's Repentance” we are told of curates who
are “furtively addicted to the flute.” In “Middle-
march” Rosy says: “Really, Fred, I wish you would
leave off playing the flute. A man looks very silly
playing the flute; and you play so out of tune.” We
are told that when Fred played it was a wheezy per-
formance, into which he threw much ambition and an
irrepressible hopefulness.
Parting is two or three times spoken of as being a
type of death.
We find Janet clinging to the man preacher, Mr.
Tryan, in the same way that Hetty clings at last to
the woman preacher, Dinah Morris. Janet, after her
troubles, reminds us of Romola, after her troubles.
In “Felix Holt” Mr. Sampson would “screw his
features into a grimace of entire neutrality;” and in
“Middlemarch” we are told that “Mr. Horrock looked
GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BYSHIRE, 83
before him with as complete a neutrality as if he had
been a portrait by a great master.” There is a dog in
“Middlemarch” that looks with the dull-eyed neutrality
of extreme old age.
Felix Holt is spoken of as being at once active and
luxurious, fond of mastery, and good-natured enough
to wish that every one about him should like his
mastery; not caring greatly to know other people's
thoughts, and ready to despise them as blockheads if
their thoughts differed from his, and yet solicitous that
they should have no colourable reason for slight
thoughts about him. Similar sentences are used to
give us an idea of Tito Melema.
“Sets of china without handles” do service in two
stories. *
When we listen to descriptions of “the old-fashioned,
grazing, brewing, wool-packing, cheese-loading life of
Treby Magna” we think not only of this place, but of
St. Oggs.
It may be noticed that all these novels (with the
exception of “Romola”) are studies of country life,
and the same kind of country life, at about the same
period.
Mr. Lyon and Mr. Tryan are both clergymen.
Their names would rhyme, and the study of one recalls
the study of the other.
84 GEORGE ELIOT IN DERBYSHIRE).
Felix Holt, and Esther, and Mr. Lyon would not
need to be greatly transformed to resemble Tito
Melema, Romola, and Bardo.
There are times when we are inclined to look upon
Felix as another Adam Bede. They are both eager,
and ardent, and honest, proud of what they can do,
and remembering that they have “the blood of a line
of handicraftsmen” in their veins.
In “Felix Holt,” Mrs. Transome tells Esther “how
the brilliant Fanny, having married a country parson,
became so niggardly that she had gone about almost
begging for fresh eggs from the farmers' wives, although
she had done very well with her six sons.” In
“Middlemarch,” Mrs. Cadwallader says, “I set a bad
example—married a poor clergyman, and made myself
a pitiable object among the De Bracys—obliged to get
my coals by stratagem and pray to heaven for my
salad oil.”
In the same story we have a Joshua Rigg, and in
“Adam Bede” we have a Joshua Rann.
In “Silas Marner” there is this beautiful passage:
“In the old days there were angels who came and took
men by the hand and led them away from the city of
destruction. We see no white-winged angels now.
But yet men are led away from threatening destruction:
GEORGE ELIOT IN DERBYSHIRE, 85
a hand is put into theirs, which leads them forth gently
towards a calm and bright land, so that they look no
more backward; and the hand may be a little child’s.”
In “Romola” it is written that—“In those times, as
now, there were human beings who never saw angels
or heard perfectly clear messages. Such truth as came
to them was brought confusedly in the voices and
deeds of men not at all like the seraphs of unfailing
wing and piercing vision—men who believed falsities
as well as truths, and did the wrong as well as the
right. The helping hands stretched out to them were
the hands of men who stumbled and often saw dimly;
so that these beings, unvisited by angels, had no other
choice than to grasp that stumbling guidance along
the path of reliance and action which is the path of
life, or else to pause in loneliness and disbelief, which
is no path, but the arrest of inaction and death.”
Caleb Garth speaks like Adam Bede. Here is a
passage, for instance, that might come appropriately
from either the one or the other: “It’s a fine thing to
come to a man when he's seen into the nature of
business: to have a chance of getting a bit of the
country into good fettle” [a familiar word in Derby.
shire], “as they say, and putting men into the right
way with their farming, and getting a bit of good
contriving and solid building done—that those who
86 GEORGE ELIOT IN DERBYSHIRE,
are living and those who come after will be the better
for.”
Causabon is another Bardo.
In “Romola" we are told of people whose “serious
view of things filled the air like an odour.” In “Adam
Bede” whey is spoken of as having “flavour so delicate
that one can hardly distinguish it from an odour.” In
“Middlemarch” we learn that when Rosamond intro-
duced Captain Lydgate to her guests “she had a
placid sense that his rank penetrated them as if it
had been an odour.”
The word “egoism” is often used. In “Felix
Holt” the good Rufus had his “ire and his egoism ; ”
and Harold Transome was “a clever, frank, good-
natured egoist.” There are several characters, too,
who have an “eagle-like" glance.
We find some of Shakespere's phrases used without
quotation marks. In “Romola” we read: “Let us
suppose that such a shade has been permitted to
revisit the glimpses of the golden morning.”
“The spirit is clothed in his habit as he lived.”
“It was the crowd of votive waxen images, the effigies
of great personages, clothed in their habit as they lived.”
“The doctor, out of his wits, took to his heels
with spectacles on nose.” . . . “What he dreaded
now of all things was that any one should think him
GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BY SHIRE. 87
a foolish, helpless old man.” In “Amos Barton,” the
Countess Czerlaski “kindly consented to dine as early
as five, when a hot joint was prepared, which coldly
furnished forth the children's table the next day.” In
“ Felix Holt,” the “Trebian crowd did not count for
much in the political force of the nation, but it was
not the less determined as to lending or not lending its
ears.” In “Middlemarch,” Ladislaw, “like most
people who assert their freedom with regard to con-
ventional distinction, was prepared to be sudden and
quick in quarrel.”
Byron and Scott are mentioned here and there. It
may be useful that we should know what is said
of them in the novels of George Eliot. Three or four
years ago, there was a professor of literature who
declared that he would not believe in the honesty of
Shakespere, because Falstaff laughed at honour. We
must not, however, hold the novelist responsible for
the opinions of her characters, although it may be
taken for granted that their opinions are sometimes
hers. Here is a passage from “Felix Holt”:
In the act of rising, Felix pushed back his chair too
suddenly against the rickety table close by him, and down
went the blue-frilled work-basket, flying open, and dispersing
on the floor reels, thimble, muslin-work, a small sealed bottle
of attar of roses, and something heavier than these—a
duodecimo volume, which fell close to him, between the
88 GEORGE ELIOT IN DERBYSHIRE,
table and the fender. “O my stars 1” said Felix. “I beg
your pardon.” Esther had already started up, and with
wonderful quickness had picked up half the small rolling
things while Felix was lifting the basket and the book. This
last had opened, and had its leaves crushed in falling, and
with the instinct of a bookish man, he saw nothing more
pressing to be done than to flatten the corners of the leaves.
“Byron's Poems l’ he said, in a tone of disgust, while
Esther was recovering all the other articles. ‘The Dream ; ’
he’d better have been asleep and snoring. What I do you
stuff your memory with Byron, Miss Lyon ?”
Felix, on his side, was led at last to look straight at Esther,
but it was with a strong denunciatory and pedagogic inten-
tion. Of course he saw more clearly than ever that she was
a fine lady.
She reddened, drew up her long neck, and said, as she
retreated to her chair again, “I have a great admiration for
Byron.”
“He is a worldly and vain writer, I fear,” said Mr. Lyon.
He knew scarcely anything of the poet, whose books embodied
the faith and ritual of many young ladies and gentlemen.
“A misanthropic debauchee,” said Felix, lifting a chair
with one hand, and holding the book open in the other,
“whose notion of a hero was that he should disorder his
stomach and despise mankind. His corsairs and renegades,
his Alps and Manfreds, are the most paltry puppets that
were ever pulled by the strings of lust and pride.”
“Hand the book to me,” said Mr. Lyon.
“Let me beg of you to put it aside till after tea, father,”
said Esther. “However objectionable Mr. Holt may find
its pages, they would certainly be made worse by being
greased with bread and butter.”
GEORGE ELIOT IN DER BYSHIRE, 89
Byron is mentioned, too, in “The Mill on the Floss,”
and this time with Scott :—
Sometimes Maggie thought she could have been contented
with absorbing fancies; if she could have had all Scott’s
novels and all Byron's poems —then perhaps she might
have found happiness enough to dull her sensibility to her
actual daily life. And yet. . . . . . . they were hardly
what she wanted. She could make dream-worlds of her own ;
but no dream would satisfy her now.
In “Adam Bede’’ we find some opinions about the
poems of Coleridge. “Talking of eyes,” said Captain
Donnithorne, “that reminds me that I’ve got a book
I meant to bring you, godmanma. It came down in a
parcel from London the other day. I know you are
fond of queer, wizard-like stories. It's a volume of
poems, “Lyrical Ballads.” Most of them seem to be
twaddling stuff; but the first is in a different style;
‘The Ancient Mariner’ is the title. I can hardly
make head or tail of it as a story, but it's a strange,
striking thing.”
These novels we have been turning over in our
admiration, because they tell us of the kind of life we
have known. We can trace in them some of our own
thoughts and experience. They show us our faults as
well as our virtues, and evil and good are not exagger-
ated. After many years we shall find these simple
pictures of country home life hung up in our memories;
90 GEORGE ELIOT IN DERBYSHIRE,
and when we wish to lay aside some of our cut-and-
dried wisdom, and talk with sweet and healthy and
natural children, we may always find them in these
books.

ł
One of our best
writers of lyrical
verses. – Appleton's
(American) Jowrmal.
He is fairly entitled
to rank among our
new singers. — St.
James's Magazine.
Guy Roslyn, whose
poetry is always
good. – Evening
Standard.
Charming verses.
Impassioned verses
replete with pathos
and poetical power.
—Lloyd's Newspaper.
Pretty verses.—
The Hour.
A beautiful poem.
—Echo.
An exquisite lyric.
— School - Bo a r d
C. J. r o m i c l, e.
Brimful of medody.
—Bristol Daily Times
and Mirror.
He is ever cheerful, and revels in surroundings of
a pleasing and healthy character. . These surround-
ings are reflected in his best and brightest songs.
Content to use only simple and elegant language.
Guy Roslyn has fancy, melody, and grace.—Public
Opinion.
Now Ready, Crown 8vo., Price 7s. 6d.
Billage tersts:
BY
GUY ROSLYN.
LONDON :
E. MOXON, SON, AND CO., PATERNOSTER ROW.
1876.
His collected verses are well suited to charm an
idle hour, to be read aloud to one's friends, and
to divert those who are on the look out for any-
thing piquant in the shape of a song or a lyric.—
Lincolm Gazette.
A very beautiful
little thing. --Asiatic.
We may well con-
gratulate him on the
success of this effort
of his genius.-Era.
The most charm-
ing poem in the
January monthlies.
—Hereford Jown'nal.
Wonderfully musi-
Cal and full of
beautiful images.—
Dwrhaºn, Chronicle.
Vigorous and ele-
g a nt.— B er w i c &
W & 7 d e ºr .
His pen has en-
riched the columns
of many of our
monthly publica–
tions.— We s te 7 m.
Morning News.
Breathe the odour
of an April day.—
Leamington Cowrier.
Light, yet vigorous.
— C v i ! Sé r v i c e
Gazette.
* -ºº:
ſiliiliſi
5647
0R
MUTILATE CARD


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