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 GEORGE ELIOT'S LIFE. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 r^EORGE ELIOT AT THE AGE OF 
 ^ THIRTY. Photogravure. From painting by 
 
 M. D'A Ibert - Durade.
 
 The Complete Works 
 
 of 
 
 George Eliot 
 
 GEORGE ELIOT'S LIFE 
 
 AS RELATED IN 
 
 HER LETTERS AND JOURNALS 
 
 ARRANGED AND EDITED BY HER HUSBAND 
 J. W. CROSS 
 
 VOLUME I 
 
 ILLUSTRATED 
 
 NEW YORK AND LONDON 
 
 HARPER & BROTHERS 
 
 PUBLISHERS
 
 MA 
 
 *»!»» 
 
 
 PEEFACE TO THE FIEST EDITIOi^. 
 
 With the materials in my hands I have endeav- 
 oured to form an autobiography (if the term may 
 be permitted) of George Eliot. The life has been 
 allowed to write itself in extracts from her letters 
 and journals. Free from the obtrusion of any 
 mind but her own, this method serves, I think, 
 better than any other open to me, to show the 
 development of her intellect and character. 
 
 In dealing with the correspondence, I have been 
 influenced by the desire to make known the 
 woman, as well as the author, through the presen- 
 tation of her daily life. 
 
 On the intellectual side there remains little to 
 be learnt by those who already know George 
 Eliot's books. In the twenty volumes which she 
 wrote and published in her lifetime, will be found 
 her best and ripest thoughts. The letters now 
 published throw light on another side of her 
 nature, — not less important, but hitherto un- 
 known to the public, — the side of the affections. 
 
 The intimate life was the core of the root from 
 which sprung the fairest flowers of her inspiration. 
 Fame came to her late in life, and, when it pre- 
 sented itself, was so weighted with the sense of 
 responsibility that it was in truth a rose with
 
 vi Preface. 
 
 many thorns, for George Eliot had the tempera- 
 ment that shrinks from the position of a public 
 character. The belief in the wide, and I may add 
 in the beneficent, effect of her writing was no 
 doubt the highest happiness, the reward of the 
 artist which she greatly cherished; but the joys 
 of the hearth-side, the delight in the love of her 
 friends, were the supreme pleasures in her life. 
 
 By arranging all the letters and journals so as 
 to form one connected whole, keeping the order of 
 their dates, and with the least possible interrup- 
 tion of comment, I have endeavoured to combine a 
 narrative of day-to-day life with the play of light 
 and shade which only letters, written in various 
 moods, can give, and without which no portrait 
 can be a good likeness. I do not know that the 
 particular method in which I have treated the 
 letters has ever been adopted before. Each letter 
 has been pruned of everything that seemed to me 
 irrelevant to my purpose, — of everything that I 
 thought my wife would have wished to be omitted. 
 Every sentence that remains, adds, in my judg- 
 ment, something (however small it may be) to the 
 means of forming a conclusion about her character. 
 I ought perhaps to say a word of apology for what 
 may appear to be undue detail of travelling experi- 
 ences ; but I hope that to many readers these will 
 be interesting, as reflected through George Eliot's 
 mind. The remarks on works of art are only 
 meant to be records of impressions. She would 
 have deprecated for herself the attitude of an art 
 critic.
 
 Preface. vii 
 
 Excepting a slight introductory sketch of the 
 girlhood, iip to the time when letters became 
 available, and a few words here and there to eluci- 
 date the correspondence, I have confined myself 
 to the work of selection and arrangement. 
 
 I have refrained almost entirely from quoting 
 remembered sayings by George Eliot, because it is 
 difficult to be certain of complete accuracy, and 
 everything depends upon accuracy. Eecollections 
 of conversation are seldom to be implicitly trusted 
 in the absence of notes made at the time. The 
 value of spoken words depends, too, so much upon 
 the tone, and on the circumstances which gave rise 
 to their utterance, that they often mislead as much 
 as they enlighten, when, in the process of repeti- 
 tion, they have taken colour from another mind. 
 " All interpretations depend upon the interpreter," 
 and I have judged it best to let George Eliot be 
 her own interpreter, as far as possible. 
 
 I owe thanks ta Mr. Isaac Evans, the brother of 
 my wife, for much of the information in regard to 
 her child-life ; and the whole book is a long record 
 of debts due to other friends for letters. It is not 
 therefore necessary for me to recapitulate the list 
 of names in this place. My thauks to all are 
 heartfelt. But there is a very special acknowledg- 
 ment due to Miss Sara Hennell, to Mrs. Bray, and 
 to the late Mr. Charles Bray of Coventry, not only 
 for the letters which they placed at my disposal, 
 but also for much information given to me in the 
 most friendly spirit. The very important part of 
 the life from 1842 to 1854 could not possibly have 
 t ten written without their contribution.
 
 viii Preface. 
 
 To Mr. Charles Lewes, also, I am indebted for 
 permission to make use of some valuable letters 
 written by his father, besides the letters addressed 
 to himself. He also obtained for me an impor- 
 tant letter written by George Eliot to Mr. E. H. 
 Hutton; and throughout the preparation of the 
 book I have had the advantage of his sympathetic 
 interest, and his concurrence in the publication of 
 all the materials. 
 
 Special thanks are likewise due to Messrs. Wm. 
 Blackwood & Sons for having placed at my dis- 
 posal George Eliot's long correspondence with the 
 firm. The letters (especially those addressed to 
 her friend the late Mr. John Blackwood) throw a 
 light, that could not otherwise have been obtained, 
 on the most interesting part of her literary career. 
 
 To the legal representatives of the late Charles 
 Dickens, of the late Lord Lytton, and of Mrs. 
 Carlyle; to Mr. J. A. Froude, and to the Eev. 
 Archer Gurney, — I owe thanks for leave to print 
 letters written by them. 
 
 For all the defects that there may be in the 
 plan of these volumes, I alone am responsible. 
 The lines were determined, and the work was sub- 
 stantially put into shape, before I submitted the 
 manuscript to any one. Whilst passing the 
 winter in the south of France, I had the good 
 fortune at Cannes to find in Lord Acton a friend 
 always most kindly ready to assist me with valu- 
 able counsel and with cordial generous sympathy. 
 He was the first reader of the manuscript, and 
 whatever accuracy may have been arrived at in
 
 Preface. ix 
 
 the names of foreign books, foreign persons, and 
 foreign places, is in great part due to his friendly, 
 careful help. 
 
 As regards the illustrations, I owe thanks to Sir 
 Frederic Burton for permitting me to reproduce as 
 a frontispiece M. Eajon's etching of the beautiful 
 drawing, executed in 1864, now in the National 
 Portrait Gallery, South Kensington. 
 
 The Geneva portrait was taken in the early part 
 of 1850, by George Eliot's old friend M. D 'Albert. 
 He was good enough to allow me to become the 
 possessor of it in 1881. 
 
 The view of the old house at Rosehill is from a 
 drawing by Miss Sara Hennell. It is connected 
 with some of George Eliot's happiest experiences, 
 and with the period of her most rapid intellectual 
 development. 
 
 For permission to use the sketch of the drawing- 
 room at The Priory, I am indebted to Messrs. 
 Harpers of New York. 
 
 The size of the volumes has been determined by 
 the desire to make this book uniform in appearance 
 with the original editions of George Eliot's Works. 
 
 In conclusion, it is in no conventional spirit, 
 but from my heart, that I bespeak the indulgence 
 of readers for my share of this work. Of its 
 shortcomings no one can be so convinced as I am 
 myself. 
 
 J. W. C. 
 
 Campden Hill, December, 1884.
 
 ». 
 
 CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Introductorv Sketch of Childhood, 1819 to 1838 , . . 1 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 AUGUST, 1838, TO MARCH, 1841. 
 
 LifeatGrLff . , . . 29 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 MARCH, 1841, TO APRIL, 1846. 
 
 Coventry — Translation of Strauss 63 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 MAT, 1846, TO MAT, 1849. 
 
 Life in Coventry till Mr. Evans's Death 110 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 JUNE, 1849, TO MARCH, 1850. 
 
 Geneva . , . 156 
 
 CHAPTER' V. 
 
 MARCH, 1850, TO JUT.T, 1854. 
 
 Work in London — Union with Mr. Lewes . . , . 189
 
 xii Contents, 
 
 CHAPTER YL 
 
 JITLY, 1854, TO MAKCH, 1855. 
 
 FA6B 
 
 Weimar and Berlin 251 
 
 CHAPTER YIL 
 
 MARCH, 1855, TO DECEMBER, 1867. 
 
 Richmond — " Scenes of Clerical Life " . 287 
 
 Appexbix 367
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 Vol. I. 
 George Eliot at the age of Thirty .... Frontispiece 
 
 FoLESHiLL P<-'ge 62 
 
 ROSEHILL 222 
 
 A Morning with Liszt 260
 
 GEORGE ELIOT'S LIFE. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY SKETCH OF CHILDHOOD. 
 
 " Nov. 22, 1819. — Mary Ann Evans was born at 
 Arbury Farm,^ at five o'clock this morning. " 
 
 This is an entry in Mr. Robert Evans's hand- 
 writing on the page of an old diary that now lies 
 before me, and records, with characteristic pre- 
 cision, the birth of his youngest child, afterwards 
 known to the world as George Eliot. Let us pause 
 for a moment to pay its due homage to the pre- 
 cision, because it was in all probability to this 
 most noteworthy quality of her father's nature 
 that the future author was indebted for one of the 
 principal elements of her own after success, — the 
 enormous faculty for taking pains. The baby was 
 born on St. Cecilia's day, and Mr. Evans, being a 
 good Churchman, takes her, on the 29th November, 
 to be baptised in the church at Chilvers Coton, — 
 the parish in which Arbury Farm lies, — a church 
 destined to impress itself strongly on the child's 
 imagination, and to be known by many people in 
 many lands afterwards as Shepperton Church. 
 The father was a remarkable man, and many of 
 the leading traits in his character are to be found 
 in Adam Bede and in Caleb Garth, — although, of 
 
 1 The farm is also known as the South Farm, Arbury. 
 
 VOL. I. — 1
 
 2 Fathers Career. [griff, 
 
 course, neither of these is a portrait. He was 
 born in 1773, at Eoston Common, in the parish of 
 Norbury, in the county of Derby, son of a George 
 Evans, who carried on the business of builder and 
 carpenter there : the Evans family having come 
 originally from Northop, in Elintshire. Eobert 
 was brought up to the business, and after a time 
 changed his residence to Ellastone, in Stafford- 
 shire. About 1799, or a little before, he held a 
 farm of Mr. Francis Newdigate at Kirk Hallam, 
 in Derbyshire, and became his agent. On Sir 
 Eoger Newdigate's death, the Arbury estate came 
 to Mr. Francis Newdigate for his life, and Mr. 
 Evans accompanied him into Warwickshire in 
 1806 in the capacity of agent. In 1801 he had 
 married Harriott Poynton, by whom he had two 
 children, — Eobert, born 1802, at Ellastone, and 
 Frances Lucy, born 1805, at Kirk Hallam. His 
 first wife died in 1809; and on 8th February, 
 1813, he married Christiana Pearson, by whom 
 he had three children, — Christiana, born 1814; 
 Isaac, born 1816; and Mary Ann, born 1819. 
 Shortly after the last child's birth, Eobert, the 
 son, became the agent, under his father, for the 
 Kirk Hallam property, and lived there with his 
 sister Frances, who afterwards married a Mr. 
 Houghton. In March, 1820, when the baby girl 
 was only four months old, the Evans family re- 
 moved to Griff, a charming red-brick, ivy-covered 
 house on the Arbury estate, — " the warm little 
 nest where her affections were fledged, " — and 
 there George Eliot spent the first twenty-one years 
 of her life. 
 
 Let us remember what the England was upon 
 which this observant child opened her eyes.
 
 1819.] Becollections of Father. 3 
 
 The date of her birth was removed from the 
 beginning of the French Eevolution by just the 
 same period of time as separates a child born this 
 year, 1884, from the beginning of the Crimean 
 War. To a man of forty-six to-day, the latter 
 event seems but of yesterday. It took place at a 
 very impressionable period of his life, and the 
 remembrance of every detail is perfectly vivid- 
 Mr. Evans was forty-six when his youngest child 
 was born. He was a youth of sixteen when the 
 Eevolution began, and that mighty event, with 
 all its consequences, had left an indelible impres- 
 sion on him, and the convictions and conclusions 
 it had fostered in his mind permeated through to 
 his children, and entered as an indestructible ele- 
 ment into the susceptible soul of his youngest 
 daughter. There are bits in the paper " Looking 
 Backward," in " Theophrastus Such," which are 
 true autobiography. 
 
 " In my earliest remembrance of my father his 
 hair was already grey, for I was his youngest 
 child ; and it seemed to me that advanced age was 
 appropriate to a father, as indeed in all respects I 
 considered him a parent so much to my honour 
 that the mention of my relationship to him was 
 likely to secure me regard among those to whom I 
 was otherwise a stranger, — his stories from his 
 life including so many names of distant persons 
 that my imagination placed no limit to his ac- 
 quaintanceship. . . . Nor can I be sorry, though 
 myself given to meditative if not active innova- 
 tion, that my father was a Tory who had not 
 exactly a dislike to innovators and dissenters, but 
 a slight opinion of them as persons of ill-founded 
 self-confidence. . . . And I often smile at my
 
 4 Eetrospect of Year 1819. [griff, 
 
 consciousness that certain conservative preposses- 
 sions have mingled themselves for me with the 
 influences of our midland scenery, from the tops 
 of the elms down to the buttercups and the little 
 wayside vetches. Naturally enough. That part 
 of my father's prime to which he oftene^t referred 
 had fallen on the days when the great wave of 
 political enthusiasm and belief in a speedy regen- 
 eration of all things had ebbed, and the si loposed 
 millennial initiative of France was turning 'ato a 
 Napoleonic empire. ... To my father's mind 
 the noisy teachers of revolutionary doctrine were, 
 to speak mildly, a variable mixture of the fool and 
 the scoundrel ; the welfare of the nation lay in a 
 strong Government which could maintain ordei ; 
 and I was accustomed to hear him utter the word 
 'Government' in a tone that charged it with awe, 
 and made it part of my effective religion, in con- 
 trast with the word ' rebel, ' which seemed to carry 
 the stamp of evil in its syllables, and, lit by the 
 fact that Satan was the first rebel, made an argu- 
 ment dispensing with more detailed inquiry. " 
 
 This early association of ideas must always be 
 borne in mind, as it is the key to a great deal in 
 the mental attitude of the future thinker and 
 writer. It is the foundation of the latent Con- 
 servative bias. 
 
 The year 1819 is memorable as a culminating 
 period of bad times and political discontent in Eng- 
 land. The nation was suffering acutely from the 
 reaction after the excitement of the last Napoleonic 
 war. George IV. did not come to the throne till 
 January, 1820, so tbat George Eliot was born in the 
 reign of George III. Tlie trial of Queen Caroline 
 was the topic of absorbing public interest. Water-
 
 1820.] Country about Bedworth. 5 
 
 loo was not yet an affair of five years old. Byron 
 had four years, and Goethe had thirteen years, still 
 to live. The last of Miss Austen's novels had been 
 published only eighteen months, and the first of the 
 Waverley series only six years before. Thackeray 
 and Dickens were boys at school, and George Sand, 
 as a girl of fifteen, was leaving her loved freedom 
 on the banks of the Indre for the Convent des An- 
 glaises at Paris. That " Greater Britain " (Canada 
 and Australia), which to-day forms so large a reading 
 public, was then scarcely more than a geographical 
 expression, with less than half a million of inhab- 
 itants, all told, where at present there are eight 
 million; and in the United States, where more 
 copies of George Eliot's books are now sold than in 
 any other quarter of the world, the population then 
 numbered less than ten million where to-day it is 
 fifty-five million. Including Great Britain, these 
 English-speaking races have increased from thirty 
 million in 1820 to one hundred million in 1884 ; 
 and with the corresponding increase in education 
 we can form some conception how a popular English 
 writer's fame has widened its circle. 
 
 There was a remoteness about a detached country 
 house, in the England of those days, difficult for 
 us to conceive now with our railways, penny post, 
 and telegraphs ; nor is the Warwickshire country 
 about Griff an exhilarating surrounding. There are 
 neither hills nor vales, — no rivers, lakes, or sea, 
 — nothing but a monotonous succession of green 
 fields and hedgerows, with some fine trees. The 
 only water to be seen is the " brown canal." The 
 effect of such a landscape on an ordinary observer 
 is not inspiring, but "effective magic is transcen- 
 dent nature;" and with her transcendent nature
 
 6 Manufacturing Region. [griff, 
 
 George Eliot lias transfigured these scenes, dear to 
 midland souls, into many an idyllic picture, known 
 to those who know her hooks. In her childhood 
 the great event of the day was the passing of the 
 coach before the gate of Griff house, which lies at a 
 bend of the highroad between Coventry and Nun- 
 eaton, and within a couple of miles of the mining 
 village of Bed worth, where the land began " to be 
 blackened with coal-pits, the rattle of handlooms to 
 be heard in hamlets and villages. Here were power- 
 ful men walking queerly with knees bent outward 
 from squatting in the mine, going home to throw 
 themselves down in their blackened flannel and 
 sleep through the daylight, then rise and spend 
 much of their high wages at the ale-house with 
 their fellows of the Benefit Club ; here the pale 
 eager faces of handloom-weavers, men and women, 
 haggard from sitting up late at night to finish the 
 week's work, hardly begun till the Wednesday. 
 Everywhere the cottages and the small children 
 were dirty, for the languid mothers gave their 
 strength to the loom ; pious Dissenting women, 
 perhaps, who took life patiently, and thought that 
 salvation depended chiefly on predestination, and 
 not at all on cleanliness. The gables of Dissenting 
 chapels now made a visible sign of religion, and of a 
 meeting-place to counterbalance the ale-house, even 
 in the hamlets. . . . Here was a population not con- 
 vinced that old England was as good as possible ; 
 here were multitudinous men and women aware 
 that their religion was not exactly the religion of 
 their rulers, who might therefore be better than 
 they were, and who, if better, might alter many 
 things which now made the world perhaps more 
 painful than it need be, and certainly more sinful.
 
 1823.] Coaching Days. ' 7 
 
 Yet there were the grey steeples too, and the church- 
 yards, with their grassy mounds and venerable 
 headstones, sleeping in the sunlight ; there were 
 broad fields and homesteads, and fine old woods 
 covering a rising ground, or stretching far by the 
 roadside, allowing only peeps at the park and man- 
 sion which they shut in from the working-day 
 world. In these midland districts the traveller 
 passed rapidly from one phase of English life to 
 another : after looking down on a village dingy with 
 coal-dust, noisy with the shaking of looms, he might 
 skirt a parish all of fields, high hedges, and deep- 
 rutted lanes ; after the coach had rattled over the 
 pavement of a manufacturing town, the scene of 
 riots and trades-union meetings, it would take him 
 in another ten minutes into a rural region, where 
 the neighbourhood of the town was only felt in the 
 advantages of a near market for corn, cheese, and 
 hay, and where men with a considerable banking 
 account were accustomed to say that ' they never 
 meddled with politics themselves.'" ^ 
 
 We can imagine the excitement of a little four- 
 year-old girl and her seven-year-old brother waiting 
 on bright frosty mornings to hear the far-off ringing 
 beat of the horses' feet upon the hard ground, and 
 then to see the gallant appearance of the four greys, 
 with coachman and guard in scarlet, outside passen- 
 gers muffled up in furs, and baskets of game and 
 other packages hanging behind the boot, as his 
 Majesty's mail swung cheerily round on its way 
 from Birmingham to Stamford. Two coaches passed 
 the door daily, — one from Birmingham at 10 o'clock 
 in the morning, the other from Stamford at 3 o'clock 
 
 1 « Felix Holt," — Introduction.
 
 8 Father's Position. [griff, 
 
 in the afternoon. These were the chief connecting 
 links between the household at Griff and the out- 
 side world. Otherwise life went on with that mo- 
 notonous regularity which distinguishes the country 
 from the town. And it is to these circumstances of 
 her early life that a great part of the quality of 
 George Eliot's writing is due, and that she holds the 
 place she has attained in English literature. Her 
 roots were down in the pre-railroad, pre-telegraphic 
 period, — the days of fine old leisure, — but the 
 fruit was formed during an era of extraordinary 
 activity in scientific and mechanical discovery. Her 
 genius was the outcome of these conditions. It 
 could not have existed in the same form deprived of 
 either influence. Her father was busy both with 
 his own farm work and increasing agency business. 
 He was already remarked in Warwickshire for his 
 knowledge and judgment in all matters relating to 
 land, and for his general trustworthiness and high 
 character, so that he was constantly selected as 
 arbitrator and valuer. He had a wonderful eye, 
 especially for valuing woods, and could calculate 
 with almost absolute precision the quantity of avail- 
 able timber in a standing tree. In addition to his 
 merits as a man of business, he had the good for- 
 tune to possess the warm friendship and consistent 
 support of Colonel Newdigate of Astley Castle, son 
 of Mr. Francis Newdigate of Arbury, and it was 
 mainly through the Colonel's introduction and in- 
 fluence that Mr. Evans became agent also to Lord 
 Aylesford, Lord Lifford, Mr. Bromley Davenport, 
 and several others. 
 
 His position cannot be better summed up than in 
 the words of his daughter, writing to Mr. Bray on 
 30th September, 1859, in regard to some one who
 
 1823.] Father's Position. 9 
 
 had written of her, after the appearance of " Adam 
 Bede," as a " self-educated farmer's daughter." 
 
 " My father did not raise himself from being an 
 artisan to be a farmer : he raised himself from being 
 an artisan to be a man whose extensive knowledge 
 in very varied practical departments made his 
 services valued through several counties. He had 
 large knowledge of building, of mines, of planta- 
 tions, of various branches of valuation and meas- 
 urement, — of all that is essential to the management 
 of large estates. He was held by those competent 
 to judge as unique amongst land agents for his mani- 
 fold knowledge and experience, which enabled him 
 to save the special fees usually paid by landowners 
 for special opinions on the different questions inci- 
 dent to the proprietorship of land. So far as I am 
 personally concerned, I should not write a stroke to 
 prevent any one, in the zeal of antithetic eloquence, 
 from calling me a tinker's daughter ; but if my 
 father is to be mentioned at all, — if he is to be 
 identified with an imaginary character, — my piety 
 towards his memory calls on me to point out to 
 those who are supposed to speak with information 
 what he really achieved in life." 
 
 Mr. Evans was also — like Adam Bede — note- 
 worthy for his extraordinary physical strength and 
 determination of character. There is a story told of 
 him, that one day when he was travelling on the 
 top of a coach, down in Kent, a decent woman sit- 
 ting next him complained that a great hulking 
 sailor on her other side was making himself offen- 
 sive. Mr. Evans changed places with the woman, 
 and, taking the sailor by the collar, forced him down 
 under the seat, and held him there with an iron hand 
 for the remainder of the stage ; and at Griff it is still
 
 10 Darnels School. [griff, 
 
 remembered that the master happening to pass one 
 day whilst a couple of labourers were waiting for a 
 third to help to move the high heavy ladder used 
 for thatching ricks, braced himself up to a great 
 effort, and carried the ladder alone and unaided from 
 one rick to the other, to the wide-eyed wonder and 
 admiration of his men. With all this strength, 
 however, both of body and of character, he seems to 
 have combined a certain self-distrust, owing perhaps 
 to his early imperfect education, which resulted in 
 a general submissiveness in his domestic relations, 
 more or less portrayed in the character of Mr. Garth. 
 His second wife was a woman w:th an unusual 
 amount of natural force, — a shrewd practical person, 
 with a considerable dash of the Mrs. Poyser vein in 
 her. Hers was an affectionate, warm-hearted nature, 
 and her children, on whom she cast " the bene- 
 diction of her gaze," were thoroughly attached to 
 her. She came of a race of yeomen, and her social 
 position was therefore rather better than her hus- 
 band's at the time of their marriage. Her family 
 are, no doubt, prototypes of the Dodsons in the 
 " Mill on the Floss." There were three other sisters 
 married and all living in the neighbourhood of Griff, 
 — Mrs. Everard, Mrs. Johnson, and Mrs. Garner, — 
 and probably Mr. Evans heard a good deal about 
 " the traditions in the Pearson family." Mrs. 
 Evans was a very active hard-working woman, but 
 shortly after her last child's birth she became ailing 
 in health, and consequently her eldest girl, Christi- 
 ana, was sent to school at a very early age, to Miss 
 Lathom's at Attleboro, — a village a mile or two 
 from Griff, — whilst the two younger children spent 
 some part of their time every day at the cottage of 
 a Mrs. Moore, who kept a Dame's school close to
 
 1823.] Exclusive Disposition. 11 
 
 Griff gates. The little girl very early became pos- 
 sessed with the idea that she was going to be a 
 personage in the world; and Mr. Charles Lewes 
 has told me an anecdote which George Eliot related 
 of herself as characteristic of this period of her 
 childhood. When she was only four years old, she 
 recollected playing on the piano, of which she did 
 not know one note, in order to impress the servant 
 with a proper notion of her acquirements and gene- 
 rally distinguished position. This was the time 
 when the love for her brother grew in to the child's 
 affections. She used always to be at his heels, in- 
 sisting on doing everything he did. She was not 
 in these baby-days in the least precocious in learn- 
 ing. In fact, her half-sister, Mrs. Houghton, — 
 who was some fourteen years her senior, — told me 
 that the child learned to read with some diffi- 
 culty; but Mr. Isaac Evans says that this was 
 not fi'om any slowness in apprehension, but because 
 she liked playing so much better. Mere sharpness, 
 however, was not a characteristic of her mind. 
 Hers was a large, slow-growing nature ; and I think 
 it is at any rate certain that there was nothing of 
 the infant phenomenon about her. In her moral 
 development she showed, from the earliest years, 
 the trait that was most marked in her all through 
 life, — namely, the absolute need of some one person 
 who should be all in all to her, and to whom she 
 should be all in all. Very jealous in her affections, 
 and easily moved to smiles or tears, she was of a 
 nature capable of the keenest enjoyment and the 
 keenest suffering, knowing "all the wealth and all 
 the woe " of a pre-eminently exclusive disposition. 
 She was affectionate, proud, and sensitive in the 
 highest degree.
 
 12 Miss Lathom's School at Attlehoro. [griff, 
 
 The sort of happiness that belongs to this bud- 
 ding time of life — from the age of three to five — 
 is apt to impress itself very strongly on the mem- 
 ory ; and it is this period which is referred to in 
 the Brother and Sister Sonnet, " But were another 
 childhood's world my share, I would be born a 
 little sister there." When her brother was eialit 
 years old, he was sent to school at Coventry, and, 
 her mother continuing in very delicate health, the 
 little Mary Ann, now five years of age, went to 
 join her sister at Miss Lathom's school at Attle- 
 horo, where they continued as boarders for three 
 or four years, coming occasionally home to Griff 
 on Saturdays. During one of our walks at Wit- 
 ley, in 1880, my wife mentioned to me that what 
 chiefly remained in her recollection about this very 
 early school-life was the difficulty of getting near 
 enough the fire in winter, to become thoroughly 
 warmed, owing to the circle of girls forming round 
 too narrow a fireplace. This suffering from cold 
 w^s the beginning of a low general state of health : 
 also at this time she began to be subject to fears at 
 night, — " the susceptibility to terror," — which she 
 has described as haunting Gwendolen Harleth in 
 her childhood. The other girls in the school, who 
 were all naturally very much older, made a great pet 
 of the child, and used to call her " little mamma," 
 and she was not unhappy except at nights ; but 
 she told me that this liability to have " all her soul 
 become a quivering fear," which remained with her 
 afterwards, had been one of the supremely impor- 
 tant influences dominating at times her future life. 
 Mr. Isaac Evans's chief recollection of this period 
 is the delight of the little sister at his home-coming 
 for holidays, and her anxiety to know all that he
 
 1824.] Hapjpy Childhood. 13 
 
 had been doing and learning. The eldest child, 
 who went by the name of Clirissey, was the chief 
 favourite of the aunts, as she was always neat and 
 tidy, and used to spend a great deal of her time 
 with them, whilst the other two were inseparable 
 playfellows at home. The boy was his mother's 
 pet, and the girl her father's. They had everything 
 to make children happy at Griff, — a delightful old- 
 fashioned garden, — a pond, and the canal to fish 
 in^ — and the farm offices, close to the house, — 
 " the long cow-shed where generations of the milky 
 mothers have stood patiently, — the broad-shoul- 
 dered barns where the old-fashioned Hail once made 
 resonant music," and where butter-making and 
 cheese-making were carried on with great vigour 
 by Mrs. Evans. 
 
 Any one, about this time, who happened to look 
 through the window on the left-hand side of the 
 door of Griff house, would have seen a pretty pic- 
 ture in the dining-room on Saturday evenings after 
 tea. The powerful middle-aged man with the 
 strongly marked features sits in his deep leather- 
 covered arm-chair, at the right-hand corner of the 
 ruddy fireplace, with the head of " the little wench " 
 between his knees. The child turns over the book 
 with pictures that she wishes her father to explain 
 to her, — or that perhaps she prefers explaining to 
 him. Her rebellious hair is all over her eyes, much 
 vexing the pale, energetic mother, who sits on the 
 opposite side of the fire, cumbered with much ser- 
 vice, letting no instant of time escape the inevitable 
 click of the knitting-needles, — accompanied by epi- 
 grammatic speech. The elder girl, prim and tidy, 
 with her work before her, is by her mother's side ; 
 and the brother, between the two groups, keeps
 
 14 Earliest Reading. [griff, 
 
 assuring himself by perpetual search that none of 
 his favourite means of amusement are escaping 
 from his pockets. The father is already very 
 proud of the astonishing and growing intelligence 
 of his little girl. From a very early age he has 
 been in the habit of taking her with him in his 
 drives about the neighbourhood, " standing between 
 her father's knees as he drove leisurely," so that 
 she has drunk in knowledge of the country and 
 of country folk at all her pores. An old-iashioned 
 child, already living in a world of her own imagina- 
 tion, impressible to her finger-tips, and willing tc 
 give her views on any subject. 
 
 The first book that George Eliot read, so far as 
 I have been able to ascertain, was a little volume 
 published in 1822, entitled "The Linnet's Life," 
 wdiich she gave to me in the last year of her life, at 
 Witley. It bears the following inscription, written 
 some time before she gave it to me : — 
 
 " This little book is the first present I ever re- 
 member having received from my father. Let any 
 one who thinks of me with some tenderness after I 
 am dead, take care of this book for my sake. It 
 made me very happy when I held it in my little 
 hands, and read it over and over again ; and thought 
 the pictures beautiful, especially the one where the 
 linnet is feeding her young." 
 
 It must, I think, have been very shortly after 
 she received this present, that an old friend of the 
 family, who was in the habit of coming as a visitor 
 to Griff from time to time, used occasionally to 
 bring a book in his band for the little girl. I very 
 well remember her expressing to me deep gratitude 
 for tbis early ministration to her childish deliglits ; 
 and Mr. Burne Jones has been kind enough to tell
 
 1826.] First Journey to Staffordshire. 15 
 
 me of a conversation with George Eliot about chil- 
 dren's books, when she also referred to this old 
 gentleman's kindness. They were agreeing in dis- 
 paragement of some of the books that the rising 
 generation take their pleasure in, and she recalled 
 the dearth of child-literature in her own home, and 
 her passionate delight and total absorption in ^sop's 
 Fables (given to her by the aforesaid old gentleman), 
 the possession of which had opened new worlds to 
 her imagination. Mr. Burne Jones particularly re- 
 members how heartily she laughed in recalling her 
 infantine enjoyment of the humour in the fable of 
 Mercury and the Statue-seller. Having so few 
 books at this time, she read them again and again, 
 until she knew them by heart. One of them was 
 a Joe Miller jest-book, with the stories from which 
 she used greatly to astonish the family circle. But 
 the beginning of her serious reading-days did not 
 come till later. Meantime her talent for observa- 
 tion gained a glorious new field for employment in 
 her first journey from home, which took place in 
 1826. Her father and mother took her with them 
 on a little trip into Derbyshire and Staffordshire, 
 where she saw Mr. Evans's relations, and they came 
 back through Lichfield, sleeping at the "Swan."i 
 They were away only a week, from the 18th to the 
 24th of May ; but " what time is little " to an imagi- 
 native, observant child of seven on her first journey ? 
 About this time a deeply felt crisis occurred in her 
 life, as her brother had a pony given to him, to 
 which he became passionately attached. He de- 
 veloped an absorbing interest in riding, and cared 
 less and less to play with his sister. The next 
 important event happened in her eighth or ninth 
 1 Seefos^, Journal, Aug. 25, 1859, —chap. ix.
 
 16 Writes out " Waverley" [griff, 
 
 year, when she was sent to Miss Wallington's 
 school at Nuneaton, with her sister. This was a 
 much larger school than Miss Lathom's, — there 
 being some thirty girls, boarders. Tlie principal 
 governess was Miss Lewis, who became then, and 
 remained for many years after, Mary Ann Evans's 
 most intimate friend and principal correspondent ; 
 and I am indebted to the letters addressed to her 
 from 1836 to 1842 for most of the information con- 
 cerning that period. Books now became a passion 
 with the child : she read everything she could lay 
 hands on, greatly troubling the soul of her mother 
 by the consumption of candles as well as of eyesight 
 in her bedroom. From a subsequent letter, it will 
 be seen that she was " early supplied with works of 
 fiction by those who kindly sought to gratify her 
 appetite for reading." 
 
 It must have been about this time that the 
 episode occurred in relation to " Waverley " which 
 is mentioned by Miss Simcox in her article in the 
 June, 1881, number of the " Nineteenth Century 
 Eeview." It was quite new to me, and as it is very 
 interesting, I give it in Miss Simcox's own words : 
 "Somewhere about 1827 a friendly neighbour lent 
 ' Waverley ' to an elder sister of little Mary Ann 
 Evans. It was returned before the child had read 
 to the end, and in her distress at the loss of the 
 fascinating volume, she began to write out the story 
 as far as she had read it for herself, beginning 
 naturally where the story begins with Waverley's 
 adventures at Tally Vcolan, and continuing until 
 the surprised elders were moved to get her the book 
 again." Miss Simcox has pointed out the reference 
 to this in the motto of the 57th chapter of " Middle- 
 march " : —
 
 1827.] Books Bead. 17 
 
 " They numbered scarce eight summers when a name 
 Rose on their souls and stirred such motions there 
 As thrill the buds and shape their hidden frame 
 
 At penetration of the quickening air : 
 His name who told of loyal Evan Dhu, 
 
 Of quaint Bradwardine, and Vich Ian Vor, 
 Making the little world their childhood knew 
 
 Large with a land of mountain, lake, and scaur, 
 And larger yet with wonder, love, belief 
 
 Toward Walter Scott, who living far away 
 Sent them this wealth of joy and noble grief. 
 The book and they must part, but day by day, 
 In lines that thwart like portly spiders ran 
 They wrote the tale, from Tully Veolan." 
 
 Miss Simcox also mentions that " Elia divided her 
 childish allegiance with Scott, and she remembered 
 feasting with singular pleasure upon an extract in 
 some stray almanac from the essay in commemora- 
 tion of ' Captain Jackson and his slender ration of 
 Single Gloucester.' This is an extreme example of 
 the general rule that a wise child's taste in litera- 
 ture is sounder than adults generally venture to 
 believe." 
 
 We know too, from the " Mill on the Floss," that 
 the " History of the Devil," by Daniel Defoe, was a 
 favourite. The book is still religiously preserved 
 at Griff, with its pictures just as Maggie looked at 
 them. " The Pilgrim's Progress," also, and " Eas- 
 selas," had a large share of her affections. 
 
 At Miss Wallington's the growing girl soon dis- 
 tinguished herself by an easy mastery of the usual 
 school learning of her years ; and there, too, the 
 religious side of her nature was developed to a 
 remarkable degree. Miss Lewis was an ardent 
 evangelical Churchwoman, and exerted a strong 
 influence on her young pupil, whom she found 
 very sympathetically inclined. But Mary Ann 
 
 vol.. I. — 2
 
 18 3Iiss Frmiklin's School at Coventry, [gkiff, 
 
 Evans did not associate freely with her school- 
 fellows, and her friendship with Miss Lewis was 
 the only intimacy she indulged in. 
 
 On coming home for their holidays the sister and 
 brother began, about this time, the habit of acting 
 charades together before the Griff household and the 
 aunts, who were greatly impressed with the clever- 
 ness of the performance ; and the girl was now 
 recognised in the family circle as no ordinary child. 
 
 Another epoch presently succeeded on her re- 
 moval to Miss Franklin's school at Coventry, in 
 her thirteenth year. She was probably then very 
 much what she has described her own Maggie at 
 the age of thirteen : — 
 
 " A creature full of eager, passionate longings for 
 all that was beautiful and glad ; thirsty for all 
 knowledge ; with an ear straining after dreamy 
 music that died away and would not come near to 
 her ; with a blind unconscious vearning for some- 
 thing that would link together the wonderful im- 
 pressions of this mysterious life, and give her soul 
 a sense of home in it. No wonder, when there is 
 this contrast between the outward and the inward, 
 that painful collisions come of it." 
 
 In " Our Times " of June, 1881, there is a paper 
 by a lady whose mother was at school w'ith Mary 
 Ann Evans, which gives some interesting particu- 
 lars of the Miss Franklins. 
 
 "They were daughters of a Baptist minister, who 
 had preached for many years in Coventry, and who 
 inhabited during his pastorate a house iu the 
 Chapel-yard almost exactly resembling that of 
 Eufus Lyon in 'Felix Holt.' For this venerable 
 gentleman, Miss Evans as a school-girl had a great 
 admiration, and I, who can remember him well, can
 
 1831.] Excels her Schoolfelloivs. 19 
 
 trace in Rufus Lyon himself many slight resem- 
 blances, such as the ' little legs,' and the habit of 
 walking up and down when composing. Miss 
 Eebecca Franklin was a lady of considerable intel- 
 lectual power, and remarkable for her elegance in 
 writing and conversation, as well as for her beauti- 
 ful caligraphy. In her classes for English Compo- 
 sition Mary Ann Evans was, from her first entering 
 the school, far in advance of the rest ; and while the 
 themes of the other children were read, criticised, 
 and corrected in class, hers were reserved for the 
 private perusal and enjoyment of the teacher, who 
 rarely found anything to correct. Her enthusiasm 
 for music was already very strongly marked, and her 
 music-master, a much-tried man, suffering from the 
 irritability incident to his profession, reckoned on 
 his hour with her as a refreshment to his wearied 
 nerves, and soon had to confess that he had no more 
 to teach her. In connection with this proficiency 
 in music, my mother recalls her sensitiveness at 
 that time as being painfully extreme. When there 
 were visitors, Miss Evans, as the best performer in 
 the school, was sometimes summoned to the par- 
 lour to play for their amusement, and though 
 suffering agonies from shyness and reluctance, she 
 obeyed with all readiness ; but on being released, 
 my mother has often known her to rush to her 
 room and throw herself on the floor in an agony of 
 tears. Her schoolfellows loved her as much as 
 they could venture to love one whom they felt to be 
 so immeasurably superior to themselves, and she 
 had playful nicknames for most of them. My 
 mother, who was delicate, and to whom she was 
 very kind, was dubbed by her ' Miss Equanimity.' 
 A source of great interest to the girls, and of envy
 
 20 Regard for Miss FrariJcUns. [griff, 
 
 to those who lived further from home, was the 
 weekly cart which brought Miss Evans new-laid 
 eggs and other delightful produce of her father's 
 farm." 
 
 In talking about these early days, my wife im- 
 pressed on my mind the debt she felt that she 
 owed to the Miss Franklins for their excellent in- 
 struction, and she had also the very highest respect 
 for their moral qualities. With her chameleon-like 
 nature, she soon adopted their religious views with 
 intense eagerness and conviction, although she 
 never formally joined the Baptists or any other 
 communion than the Church of England. She at 
 once, however, took a foremost place in the school, 
 and became a leader of prayer-meetings amongst 
 the girls. In addition to a sound English educa- 
 tion, the Miss Franklins managed to procure for 
 their pupils excellent masters for French, German, 
 and music ; so that, looking to the lights of those 
 times, the means of obtaining knowledge were very 
 much above the average for girls. Her teachers, 
 on their side, were very proud of their exceptionally 
 gifted scholar ; and years afterwards, when Miss 
 Evans came with her father to live in Coventry, 
 they introduced her to one of their friends not 
 only as a marvel of mental power, but also as 
 a person " sure to get something up very soon 
 in the way of clothing club or other charitable 
 undertaking." 
 
 This year, 1832, was not only memorable for the 
 change to a new and superior school, but it was also 
 much more memorable to George Eliot for the riot 
 which sl)e saw at Nuneaton, on the occasion of the 
 election for North Warwickshire, after the passing 
 of the great Eeform Bill, and which subsequently
 
 1832.] Bwt at Nuneaton. 21 
 
 furnished her with the incidents for the riot in 
 " Felix Holt." It was an event to lay hold on the 
 imagination of an impressionable girl of thirteen, 
 and it is thus described in the local newspaper of 
 29th December, 1832 : — 
 
 " On Friday the 21st December, at Nuneaton, 
 from the commencement of the poll till nearly half- 
 past two, the Hemingites ^ occupied the poll ; the 
 numerous plumpers for Sir Eardley Wilmot and the 
 adherents of Mr. Dugdale being constantly inter- 
 rupted in their endeavours to go to the hustings 
 to give an honest and conscientious vote. The 
 magistrates were consequently applied to, and from 
 the representations they received from all parties, 
 they were at length induced to call in aid a military 
 force. A detaohment of the Scots Greys accord- 
 ingly arrived ; but it appearing that that gallant 
 body was not sufficiently strong to put down the 
 turbulent spirit of the mob, a reinforcement was 
 considered by the constituted authorities as abso- 
 lutely necessary. The tumult increasing, as the 
 detachment of the Scots Greys were called in, the 
 Biot Aot was read from the windows of the New- 
 digate Arms ; and we regret to add that both W. 
 P. Inge, Esq., and Colonel Newdigate, in the dis- 
 charge of their magisterial duties, received personal 
 injuries. 
 
 "On Saturday the mob presented an appalling 
 appearance, and but for the forbearance of the sol- 
 diery, numerous lives would have fallen a sacrifice. 
 Several of the officers of the Scots Greys were ma- 
 terially hurt in their attempt to quell the riotous 
 proceedings of the mob. During the day the sub- 
 sheriffs at the different booths received several 
 
 1 A Mr. Heming was the Radical candidate.
 
 22 Mother's Death. [oriff, 
 
 letters from the friends of Mr. Dugdale, stating that 
 they were outside of the town, and anxious to vote 
 for that gentleman, but were deterred from entering 
 it from fear of personal violence. Two or three 
 unlucky individuals, drawn from the files of the 
 military on their approach to the poll, were cruelly 
 beaten and stripped literally naked. We regret to 
 add that one life has been sacrificed during the 
 contest, and that several misguided individuals 
 have been seriously injured." 
 
 The term ending Christmas, 1835, was the last 
 spent at Miss Franklin's. In the first letter of 
 George Eliot's that I have been able to discover, 
 dated 6th January, 1836, and addressed to Miss 
 Lewis, who was at that time governess in the fam- 
 ily of the Kev. L. Harper, Burton Latimer, North- 
 amptonshire, she speaks of her mother having 
 suffered a great increase of pain, and adds: — 
 
 " We dare not hope that there will be a permanent 
 improvement. Our anxieties on my mother's ac- 
 count, though so great, have been since Thursday 
 almost lost sight of in the more sudden and con- 
 sequently more severe trial which we have been 
 called on to endure in the alarming illness of my 
 dear father. For four days we had no cessation 
 of our anxiety ; but I am thankful to say that 
 he is now considered out of danger, though very 
 much reduced by frequent bleedmg and very power- 
 ful medicines." 
 
 In the summer of this year, 1836, the mother 
 died, after a long painful illness, in which she was 
 nursed with great devotion by her daughters. It 
 was their first acquaintance with death ; and to a 
 highly wrought, sensitive girl of sixteen, such a loss 
 seems an unendurable calamitv. " To tlie old, sor-
 
 1836.] Sister's Marriage. 23 
 
 row is sorrow ; to the young it is despair." Many 
 references will be found in the subsequent corre- 
 spondence to what she suffered at this time, all 
 summed up in the old popular phrase, "We can 
 have but one mother." In the following spring 
 Christiana was married to Mr. Edward Clarke, a 
 surgeon practising at Meriden in Warwickshire. 
 One of Mr. Isaac Evans's most vivid recollections is 
 that on the day of the marriage, after the bride's 
 departure, he and his younger sister had " a good 
 cry" together over the break up of the old home- 
 life, which of course could never be the same with 
 the mother and the elder sister wanting. 
 
 Twenty -three years later we shall find George 
 Eliot writing, on the death of this sister, that she 
 " had a very special feeling for her, — stronger than 
 any third person would think likely." The rela- 
 tion between the sisters was somewhat like that 
 described as existing between Dorothea and Celia 
 in " Middlemarch," — no intellectual affinity, but a 
 strong family affection. In fact, my wife told me 
 that although Celia was not in any sense a portrait 
 of her sister, she "had Chrissey continually in 
 mind" in delineating Celia's character. But we 
 must be careful not to found too much on such sug- 
 gestions of character in George Eliot's books ; and 
 this must particularly be borne in mind in the " Mill 
 on the Eloss." No doubt the early part of Maggie's 
 portraiture is the best autobiographical representa- 
 tion we can have of George Eliot's own feelings in 
 her childhood, and many of the incidents in the 
 book are based on real experiences of family life, 
 but so mixed with fictitious elements and situations 
 that it would be absolutely misleading to trust to it 
 as a true history. For instance, all that happened
 
 24 Relations with Brother. [griff. 
 
 in real life between the brother and sister was, I 
 believe, that as they grew up their characters, pur- 
 siiits, and tastes diverged more and more widely. 
 He took to his father's business, at which he worked 
 steadily, and which absorbed most of his time and 
 attention. He was also devoted to Imnting, liked 
 the ordinary pleasures of a young man in his cir- 
 cumstances, and was quite s^vtisfied with the circle 
 of acquaintance in which he moved, After leaving 
 school at Coventry he went to a private tutor's at 
 Birmingham, where he imbibed strong High Church 
 views. His sister had oome back from the Miss 
 Franklins' with ultra-evangelical tendencies, and 
 their differences of opinion used to lead to a good 
 deal of animated argument. Miss Evans, as she 
 now was, could not rest satisfied with a mere pro- 
 fession of faith without trying to shape her own life 
 — and it may be added, the lives around her — in 
 accordance with her convictions. The pursuit of 
 pleasure was a snare ; dress was vanity ; society 
 was a danger. 
 
 " From what you know of her, you will not be 
 surprised that she threw some exaggeration and wil- 
 fulness, some pride and impetuosity, even into her 
 self-renunciation: her own life was still a drama 
 for her, in which gho demanded of herself that her 
 part should be played with intensity. And so it 
 came to pass that she often lost the spirit of 
 humility by being excessive in the outward act; 
 she often strove after too high a fiight, and came 
 down with her poor little ludr-Hedged whigs dabbled 
 in the mud. . . . That is the ])ath we all like when 
 we set out on our al»andonm(>.nt of egoism, — the 
 path of martyrdom and endurance, where the palm 
 branches grow, rather than the steep higliway of
 
 1837.] Head of House at Griff. 25 
 
 tolerance, just allowance, and self-blame, where 
 there are no leafy honours to be gathered and 
 worn." 1 
 
 After Christiana's marriage the entire charge of 
 the Griff establishment devolved on Mary Ann, 
 who became a most exemplary housewife, learned 
 thoroughly everything that had to be done, and, 
 with her innate desire for perfection, was never 
 satisfied unless her department was administered 
 in the very best manner that circumstances per- 
 mitted. She spent a great deal of time in visiting 
 the poor, organising clothing clubs, and other works 
 of active charity. But over and above this, as will 
 be seen from the following letters, she was always 
 prosecuting an active intellectual life of her own. 
 Mr. Brezzi, a well-known master of modern lan- 
 guages at Coventry, used to come over to G-riff regu- 
 larly to give her lessons in Italian and German. 
 Mr. M'Ewen, also from Coventry, continued her 
 lessons in music, and she got through a large amount 
 of miscellaneous reading by herself. In the even- 
 ings she was always in the habit of playing to her 
 father, who was very fond of music. But it requires 
 no great effort of imagination to conceive that this 
 life, though full of interests of its own, and the 
 source from whence the future novelist drew the 
 most powerful and the most touching of her crea- 
 tions, was, as a matter of fact, very monotonous, 
 very difficult, very discouraging. It could scarcely 
 be otherwise to a young girl, with a full passionate 
 nature and hungry intellect, shut up in a farmhouse 
 in the remote country. For there was no sympa- 
 thetic human soul near with whom to exchange 
 ideas on the intellectual and spiritual problems that 
 
 1 " Mill on the Floss," chap. iii. book iv.
 
 26 Intellectual Solitude. [griff, 
 
 were beginning to agitate her mind. "You may 
 try, but you can never imagine what it is to have 
 a man's force of genius in you, and yet to suffer the 
 slavery of being a girl." ^ This is a point of view 
 that must be distinctly recognised by any one at- 
 tempting to follow the development of George 
 EUot's character, and it will always be corrected by 
 the other point of view which she has made so 
 prominent in all her own writing, — the soothing, 
 strengthening, sacred influences of the home hfe, 
 the home loves, the home duties. Circumstances 
 in later life separated her from her kindred, but 
 among her last letters it will be seen that she wrote 
 to her brother in May, 1880, that " our long silence 
 has never broken the affection for you which began 
 when we were little ones," ^ — and she expresses 
 her satisfaction in the growing prosperity of him- 
 self and all his family. It was a real gratification 
 to her to hear from some Coventry friends that her 
 nephew, the Rev. Frederic Evans, the present Rector 
 of Bedworth, was well spoken of as a preacher in 
 the old familiar places, and in our last summer at 
 Witley we often spoke of a visit to Warwickshire, 
 that she might renew the sweet memories of her 
 child-days. No doubt, the very monotony of her 
 life at Griff, and the narrow field it presented for 
 observation of society, added immeasurably to the 
 intensity of a naturally keen mental vision, concen- 
 trating into a focus what might perhaps have be- 
 come dissipated in more liberal surroundings. And 
 though the field of observation was narrow in one 
 sense, it included very various grades of society. 
 Such fine places as Arbury, and Packington, the seat 
 of Lord Aylesford, where she was being constantly 
 
 ^ " Daniel Deronda." ^ gge chap. xix.
 
 1837.1 Social Infiueiices. 27 
 
 driven "by her father, affected the imagination and 
 accentuated the social differences, — differences which 
 had a profound significance for such a sensitive and 
 such an intellectually commanding character, and 
 which left their mark on it. 
 
 " No one who has not a strong natural prompt- 
 ing and susceptibility towards such things [the signs 
 and luxuries of ladyhood], and has, at the same 
 time, suffered from the presence of opposite condi- 
 tions, can understand how powerfully those minor 
 accidents of rank which please the fastidious sense 
 can preoccupy the imagination." ^ 
 
 The tone of her mind will be seen from the let- 
 ters written during the following years ; and I 
 remember once, after we were married, when I was 
 urging her to write her autobiography, she said, half 
 sighing, half smiling : " The only thing I should care 
 much to dwell on would be the absolute despair I 
 suffered from of ever being able to achieve anything. 
 No one could ever have felt greater despair, and a 
 knowledge of this might be a help to some other 
 struggler," — adding with a smile, " but, on the 
 other hand, it might only lead to an increase of bad 
 writing." 
 
 1 "Felix Holt," chap, xxxviii.
 
 28 Summary. [1837.] 
 
 SUMMARY. 
 
 NOVEMBER 22, 1819, TO END OF 1837. 
 
 Birth at Arbury Farm — Baptism — Character of father — 
 His first marriage and children — Second marriage and children 
 
 — llemoval to Griff — Events at time of birth- — Character of 
 coumry about Griff — Coach communication — Father's position 
 
 — Anecdotes of father — Character of mother — Mother's family 
 and delicacy — Dame's school — Companionship with brother — 
 Miss Lathom's school at Attleboro — Suiters from fear — Father's 
 pet — Drives with him — First books read — First journey to 
 Staffordshire — Miss Wallington's school at Nuneaton — Miss 
 Lewis, governess — Books read — Religious impressions — Charade 
 acting — Miss Franklin's school at Coventry — Riot at Nuneaton 
 
 — First letter to Miss Lewis — Mother's illness — Mother's death 
 
 — Sister Christiana married to Mr. Clarke — Relations with 
 brother — Housekeeper at Griff — Life and studies there.
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 In the foregoing introductory sketch, I have en- 
 deavoured to present the influences to which George 
 Eliot was subjected in her youth, and the environ- 
 ment in which she grew up ; I am now able to 
 begin the fulfilment of the promise on the title- 
 page, that the life will be related in her own let- 
 ters, — or rather in extracts from her ow^n letters, 
 for no single letter is printed entire from the 
 beginning to the end. I have not succeeded in 
 obtaining any between 6th January, 1836, and 
 18th August, 1838 ; but from the latter date the 
 correspondence becomes regular, and I have ar- 
 ranged it as a continuous narrative, with the 
 names of the persons to whom the letters are 
 addressed in the margin. The slight thread of 
 narrative or explanation which I have written to 
 elucidate the letters, where necessary, will here- 
 after occupy an inside margin, so that the reader 
 will see at a glance what is narrative and what is 
 correspondence, and will be troubled as little as 
 possible with marks of quotation or changes of 
 type. 
 
 The following opening letter of the series to 
 
 Miss Lewis describes a first visit to London 
 
 with her brother : — 
 Let me tell you, though, that I was not at all Mlsfiiwis, 
 delighted with the stir of the great Babel, and the J^*^^"s- 
 less so, probably, owing to the circumstances at- 
 tending my visit thither. Isaac and I went alone
 
 30 First Visit to London. [griff, 
 
 (that seems rather Irish), and stayed only a week, 
 every day of which we worked hard at seeing 
 sights. I think Greenwich Hospital interested 
 me more than anything else. 
 
 Mr. Isaac Evans himself tells me that what 
 he remembers chiefly impressed her was the 
 first hearing the great bell of St. Paul's. It 
 affected her deeply. At that time she was so 
 much under the influence of religious and 
 ascetic ideas that she would not go to any of 
 the theatres with her brother, but spent all her 
 evenings alone reading. A characteristic rem- 
 iniscence is that the chief thing she wanted 
 to buy was Josephus's " History of the Jews ; " 
 and at the same bookshop where her brother 
 got her this, he bought for himself a pair of. 
 hunting sketches. In the same letter, alluding 
 to the marriage of one of her friends, she 
 says : — 
 Letter to Foi my part, when I hear of the marrying and 
 18th Aug. ' giving m marriage that is constantly being trans- 
 ^^" acted, I can only sigh for those who are multiply- 
 
 ing earthly ties which, though powerful enough to 
 detach their hearts and thoughts from heaven, are 
 so brittle as to be liable to be snapped asunder at 
 every breeze. You will think that I need nothing 
 but a tub for my habitation to make me a perfect 
 female Diogenes ; and I plead guilty to occasional 
 misanthropical thoughts, but not to the indulgence 
 of them. Still I must believe that those are hap- 
 piest who are not fermenting themselves by en- 
 gaging in projects for earthly bliss, who are 
 considering this life, merely a pilgrimage, a scene 
 calling for diligence and watchfulness, not for 
 repose and amusement. I do not deny that there
 
 1838.] Desirability of Benunciation. 31 
 
 may be many who can partake with a high degree Letter to 
 of zest of all the lawful enjoyments the world can isth au^ 
 offer, and yet live in near communion with their ^^^' 
 God, — who can warmly love the creature, and yet 
 be careful that the Creator maintains His supre- 
 macy in their hearts ; but I confess that in my 
 short experience and narrow sphere of action I 
 have never been able to attain to this. I find, as 
 Dr. Johnson said respecting his wine, total absti- 
 nence much easier than moderation. I do not 
 wonder you are pleased with Pascal ; ^ his thoughts 
 may be returned to the palate again and again with 
 increasing rather than diminished relish. I have 
 highly enjoyed Hannah More's letters: the con- 
 templation of so blessed a character as hers is very 
 salutary. " That ye be not slothful, but followers 
 of them who, through faith and patience, inherit 
 the promises," is a valuable admonition. I was 
 once told that there was nothing out of myself to 
 prevent my becoming as eminently holy as St. 
 Paul ; and though I think that is too sweeping an 
 assertion, yet it is very certain we are generally 
 too low in our aims, more anxious for safety than 
 sanctity, for place than purity, forgetting that each 
 involves the other, and that, as Doddridge tells 
 us, to rest satisfied with any attainments in reli- 
 gion is a fearful proof that we are ignorant of the 
 very first principles of it. Oh that we could live 
 only for eternity ! that we could realise its near- 
 ness ! I know you do not love quotations, so I 
 will not give you one ; but if you do not distinctly 
 remember it, do turn to the passage in Young's 
 "Infidel Eeclaimed, " beginning, "0 vain, vain, 
 
 ^ Given to her as a school prize when she was fourteen : see 
 chap, xviii.
 
 32 
 
 Michaelmas Guests. 
 
 Tgriff, 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Lewis, 
 ISth Aug. 
 1838. 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Lewis, 
 Otli Nov. 
 1838. 
 
 vain all else eternity," and do love the lines foi 
 my sake. 
 
 I really feel for yoUj sacrificing, as you are, your 
 own tastes and comforts for the pleasure of others, 
 and that in a manner the most trying to rebellious 
 flesh and blood ; for I verily believe that in most 
 cases it requires more of a martyr's spirit to en- 
 dure, with patience and cheerfulnesSj daily cross- 
 ings and interruptions of our petty desires and 
 pursuits, and to rejoice in them if they can be 
 made to conduce to God's glory and our own 
 sanctification, than even to lay down our lives 
 for the truth. 
 
 I can hardly repress a sort of indignation towards 
 second causes. That your time and energies should 
 be expended in ministering to the petty interests 
 of those far beneath you in all that is really ele- 
 vating, is about as hienseaiit as that I should set 
 fire to a goodly volume to light a match by! I 
 have had a very unsettled life lately, -^ Michael- 
 mas with its onerous duties alid anxieties, much 
 company (for us) and little reading, so that I am 
 ill prepared for corresponding with profit or pleas- 
 ure. I am generally in the same predicament 
 with books as a glutton with his feast, hurrying 
 through one course that I ttiay be in time for the 
 next, and so not relishing or digesting either; not 
 a very elegant illustration, hut the best my organs 
 of ideality and comparison will furnish just now. 
 
 I have just begun the life of Wilberforce, and I 
 am expecting ft rich tteat from it. There is a 
 similarity, if I may compare myself With such a 
 man, between his temptations, or rather besetments, 
 and my own, that makes his experience very inter- 
 esting to me. Oil tliat I might be made as useful
 
 1838.] Condemns Oratorios. S3 
 
 in my lowly and obscure station as he was in the Letter to 
 exalted one assigned to him ! I feel myself to be cth notT*^'' 
 a mere cumberer of the ground. May the Lord ^^^' 
 give me such an insight into what is truly good, 
 that I may not rest contented with making Chris- 
 tianity a mere addendum to my pursuits, or with 
 tacking it as a fringe to my garments ! May I 
 seek to be sanctified wholly ! My nineteenth 
 birthday will soon be here (the 22d), — an awaken- 
 ing signal, My mind has been much clogged 
 lately by languor of body, to which I am prone to 
 give way, and for the removal of which I shall 
 feel thankful. 
 
 We have had an oratorio at Coventry lately, 
 Braham, Phillips, Mrs. Kuyvett, aud Mrs. Shaw, 
 — the last, I think, I shall attend. I am not 
 fitted to decide on the question of the propriety or 
 lawfulness of such exhibitions of talent and so 
 forth, because I have no soul for music. " Happy 
 is he that condemneth not himself in that thing 
 which he alloweth. " I am a tasteless person, but 
 it would not cost me any regrets if the only music 
 heard in our land were that of strict worship, nor 
 can I think a pleasure that involves the devotion 
 of all the time and powers of an immortal being to 
 the acquirement of an expertness in so useless (at 
 least in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred) an 
 accomplishment, can be quite pure or elevating in 
 its tendency. 
 
 The above remarks on oratorio are the more 
 surprising, because two years later, when Miss 
 Evans went to the Birmingham festival in 
 September, 1840, previous to her brother's 
 marriage, she was affected to an extraordinary 
 decree, so much so that Mrs. Isaac Evans — . 
 
 VOL. 1. — 3
 
 34 WirJcsworih Aunt. [grifp, 
 
 then Miss Eawlins — told me that the atten- 
 tion of people sitting near was attracted by her 
 hysterical sobbing. And in all her later life 
 music was one of the chiefest delights to her, 
 and especially oratorio. 
 " Not that her enjoyment of music was of the kind 
 that indicates a great specific talent ; it was rather 
 that her sensibility to the supreme excitement of 
 music was only one form of that passionate sensi- 
 bility which belonged to her whole nature, and 
 made her faults and virtues all merge in each 
 other, — made her affections sometimes an impa- 
 tient demand, but also prevented her vanity from 
 taking the form of mere feminine coquetry and 
 device, and gave it the poetry of ambition. " ^ 
 
 The next two letters, dated from Griff, — • 
 February 6th and March 5th, 1839, — are ad- 
 dressed to Mrs. Samuel Evans, a Methodist 
 preacher, the wife of a younger brother of Mr. 
 Eobert Evans. They are the more interesting 
 from the fact, which will appear later, that an 
 anecdote related by this aunt during her visit 
 to Griff in 1839 was the germ of " Adam Bede. " 
 To what extent this Elizabeth Evans resembled 
 the ideal character of Dinah Morris will also 
 be seen in its place in the history of " Adam 
 Bede. " 
 Letter to I am SO uuwilling to believe that you can forget 
 
 Mrs. Samuel . j. ^ j_ ■ e .• 
 
 Kvaiis, Gth a promise, or to entertain tears respecting your 
 health, that I persuade myself I must have mis- 
 taken the terms of the agreement between us, and 
 that I ought to have sent you a letter before I con- 
 sidered myself entitled to one from Wirksworth. 
 
 ^ "Mill on the Floss," chap. v. book vi. 
 
 Feb. 1839.
 
 1839.] Religious Experiences. 35 
 
 However this may be, I feel so anxious to hear of Letter to 
 
 ,1,.. iijT T Mrs. Samuel 
 
 your well-being m every way, that i can no longer Evans, 6th 
 rest satisfied without using my only means of ^^^' ^^^' 
 obtaining tidings of you. My dear father is not 
 at home to-night, or I should probably have a 
 message of remembrance to give you from him in 
 addition to the oood news that he is as well as he 
 has been for the last two years, and even, I think, 
 better, except that he feels more fatigue after exer- 
 tion of mind or body than formerly. If you are 
 able to fill a sheet, I am sure both uncle and you 
 would in doing so be complying with the precept, 
 " Lift up the hands that hang down, and strengthen 
 the feeble knees. " I need not tell you that this is 
 a dry and thirsty land, and I shall be as grateful 
 to you for a draught from your fresh spring as the 
 traveller in the Eastern desert is to the unknown 
 hand that digs a well for him. " Unstable as 
 water, thou shalt not excel, " seems to be my char- 
 acter, instead of that regular progress from strength 
 to strength that marks, even in this world of mis- 
 takes, the people that shall in the heavenly Zion 
 stand before God. I shall not only suffer, but be 
 delighted to receive, the word of exhortation, and 
 I beg you not to withhold it. If I did not know 
 how little you need human help, I should regret 
 that my ignorance and want of deep feeling in 
 spiritual things prevent me from suggesting profit- 
 able or refreshing thoughts ; but I daresay I took 
 care to tell you that my desire for correspondence 
 with you was quite one of self-interest. 
 
 I am thankful to tell you that my dear friends 
 here are all well. I have a faint hope that the 
 pleasure and profit I have felt in your society may 
 be repeated in the summer: there is no place I
 
 36 Religious Exjperiences. [ghifp, 
 
 would rather visit than Wirksworth, or the in- 
 habitants of which have a stronger hold on my 
 affections. 
 
 In the next letter the touch about Mrs. 
 Fletcher's life is characteristic. 
 Letter to My dear father is just now so plunged in business, 
 Evans,Ttr and that of a fatiguing kind, that I should put 
 March, 1839. yQ^p confidcnce in my love and gratitude to an 
 unreasonably severe trial if I waited until he had 
 leisure to unite with me in filling a sheet. You 
 were very kind to remember my wish to see Mrs. 
 Fletcher's life : I only desire such a spiritual 
 digestion as has enabled you to derive so much 
 benefit from its perusal. I am truly glad to hear 
 that you are less embarrassed with respect to your 
 congregation, &c. , than you were when we saw 
 you. I must protest against your making apolo- 
 gies for speaking of yourself, for nothing that 
 relates to you can be uninteresting to me. 
 
 The unprofitableness you lament in yourself, 
 during your visit to us, had its true cause, not in 
 your lukewarmness, but in the little improvement 
 I sought to derive from your society, and in my 
 lack of humility and Christian simplicity, that 
 makes me willing to obtain credit for greater 
 knowledge and deeper feeling than I really pos- 
 sess. Instead of putting ray light under a bushel, 
 I am in danger of ostentatiously displaying a false 
 one. You have much too high an opinion, my 
 dear aunt, of my spiritual condition, and of my 
 personal and circumstantial advantages. My soul 
 seems for weeks together completely benumbed ; 
 and when I am aroused from this torpid state, the 
 intervals of activity are comparatively short. I 
 am ever finding excuses for this in the deprivation
 
 1839.] Objections to Fiction Beading. 37 
 
 of outward excitement and the small scope I have Letter to 
 for the application of my principles, instead of Evans,"^h^ 
 feeling self-abasement under the consciousness 
 
 March. 1839. 
 
 o 
 
 that I abuse precious hours of retirement which 
 would be eagerly employed in spiritual exercises 
 by many a devoted servant of God who is strug- 
 gling with worldly cares and occupations. I feel 
 that my besetting sin is the one of all others most 
 destroying, as it is the fruitful parent of them all, 
 — ambition, a desire insatiable for the esteem of 
 my fellow-creatures. This seems the centre whence 
 all my actions proceed. But you will perhaps 
 remember, my dear aunt, that I do not attach 
 much value to a disclosure of religious feelings, 
 owing probably to the dominant corruption I have 
 just been speaking of, which " turns the milk of 
 my good purpose all to curd. " 
 
 On 16th March, 1839, in a letter to Miss 
 Lewis, there is a reference to good spirits, 
 which is of the rarest occurrence all through 
 the correspondence : — 
 I am this morning hardly myself, owing to the Letter to 
 insuppressible rising of my animal spirits on a ^.th March, 
 deliverance from sick headache ; — ^^^• 
 
 and then the letter continues as to the expedi- 
 ency of reading works of fiction, in answer to a 
 question Miss Lewis had asked : — 
 I put out of the question all persons of perceptions 
 so quick, memories so eclectic and retentive, and 
 minds so comprehensive, that nothing less than 
 omnivorous reading, as Southey calls it, can satisfy 
 their intellectual man; for (if I may parody the 
 words of Scripture without profaneness) they will 
 gather to themselves all facts, and heap unto 
 themselves all ideas. For such persons we cannot
 
 38 Bad Effect of Novels. [griff. 
 
 Letter to legislate. Again, I would put out of the question 
 iGth March, Standard works, whose contents are matter of con- 
 
 1839 
 
 stant reference, and the names of whose heroes 
 and heroines briefly, and therefore conveniently, 
 describe characters and ideas : such are " Don 
 Quixote," Butler's " Hudibras," " Eobinson Crusoe," 
 " Gil Bias," Byron's Poetical Eomances, Southey's 
 ditto, &c. Such, too, are Walter Scott's novels 
 and poems. Such allusions as " He is a perfect 
 Dominie Sampson," " He is as industrious in find- 
 ing out antiquities, and about as successful, as 
 Jonathan Oldbuck, " are likely to become so com- 
 mon in books and conversation, that, always 'pro- 
 viding our leisure is not circumscribed by duty 
 within narrow bounds, we should, I think, qualify 
 ourselves to understand. Shakspeare has a higher 
 claim than this on our attention ; but we have 
 need of as nice a power of distillation as the bee, 
 to suck nothing but honey from his pages. How- 
 ever, as in life we must be exposed to malign in- 
 fluences from intercourse with others if we would 
 reap the advantages designed for us by making us 
 social beings, so in books. Having cleared our 
 way of what would otherwise have encumbered us, 
 I would ask why is one engaged in the instruction 
 of youth to read, as a purely conscientious and 
 self-denying performance of duty, works whose 
 value to others is allowed to be doubtful ? I can 
 only imagine two shadows of reasons. Either 
 that she may be able experimentally to decide on 
 their desirableness for her pupils, or else that 
 there is a certain power exerted by them on tlie 
 mind that would render lier a more efficient 
 " tutress " by their perusal. I would not depre- 
 ciate the disinterestedness of those who will make
 
 i839.] Danger of Imitation, 39 
 
 trial of the effect on themselves of a cup suspected Letter to 
 poisonous, that they may deter another from risk- uirhMlrch^ 
 ing life ; but it appears to me a work of superero- ^^^^' 
 gation, since there are enough witnesses to its 
 baneful effect on themselves already to put an end 
 to all strife in the matter. The Scriptural declara- 
 tion, " As face answereth to face in a glass, so the 
 heart of man to man, " will exonerate me from the 
 charge of uncharitableness, or too high an estima- 
 tion of myself, if I venture to believe that the 
 same causes which exist in my own breast to ren- 
 der novels and romances pernicious, have their 
 counterpart in that of every fellow-creature. I 
 am, I confess, not an impartial member of a jury 
 in this case ; for I owe the culprits a grudge for 
 injuries inflicted on myself. When I was quite 
 a little child, I could not be satisfied with the 
 things around me : I was constantly living in a 
 world of my own creation, and was quite con- 
 tented to have no companions, that I might be 
 left to my own musings, and imagine scenes in 
 which I was chief actress. Conceive what a char- 
 acter novels would give to these Utopias. I was 
 early supplied with them by those who kindly 
 sought to gratify my appetite for reading, and of 
 course I made use of the materials they supplied 
 for building my castles in the air. But it may 
 be said, " No one ever dreamed of recommending 
 children to read them : all this does not apply to 
 persons come to years of discretion, whose judg- 
 ments are in some degree matured. " I answer 
 that men and women are but children of a larger 
 growth : they are still imitative beings. We can- 
 not (at least those who ever read to any purpose at 
 all), — we cannot, I say, help being modified by
 
 40 Hurtful Novels. [griff, 
 
 Letter to the ideas that pRss through our minds. We hardly 
 lethMaxch, wish to lay claim to such elasticity as retains no 
 ^^^^' impress. We are active beings too. We are each 
 
 one of the dramatis personce in some play on the 
 stage of Life ; hence our actions have their share 
 in the effects of our reading. As to the discipline 
 our minds receive from the perusal of fictions, I 
 can conceive none that is beneficial but may be 
 attained by that of history. It is the merit of fic- 
 tions to come within the orbit of probability : if 
 unnatural, they would no longer please. If it be 
 said the mind must have relaxation, " Truth is 
 strange, — stranger than fiction." When a per- 
 son has exhausted the wonders of truth, there is 
 no other resort than fiction ; till then, I cannot 
 imagine how the adventures of some phantom, 
 conjured up by fancy, caij be more entertaining 
 than the transactions of real specimens of human 
 nature from which we may safely draw inferences. 
 I daresay Mr. James's " Huguenot " would be rec- 
 ommended as giving an idea of the times of which 
 he writes ; but as well may one be recommended to 
 look at landscapes for an idea of English scenery. 
 The real secret of the relaxation talked of is one 
 that would not generally be avowed ; but an ap- 
 petite that wants seasoning of a certain kind can- 
 not be indicative of health. Religious novels are 
 more hateful to me than merely worldly ones : 
 they are a sort of centaur or mermaid, and, like 
 other monsters that we do not know how to class, 
 should be destroyed for the public good as soon as 
 born. The weapons of the Christian warfare were 
 never sharpened at the forge of romance. Domestic 
 fictions, as they come more within the range of 
 imitation, seem more dangerous. For my part, I
 
 18^9.] Religious Controversies. 41 
 
 am ready to sit down and weep at the impossi- 
 bility of my understanding or barely knowing a 
 fraction of the sum of objects that present them- 
 selves for our contemplation in books and in life. 
 Have I, then, any time to spend on things that 
 never existed ? 
 
 You allude to the religious, or rather irreligious, Letter to 
 
 . r j_ • Miss Lewis, 
 
 contentions that form so prominent a feature m 'jothMay, 
 
 • • i83y 
 
 the aspect of public affairs, — a subject, you will 
 
 perhaps be surprised to hear me say, full of inter- 
 est to me, and on which I am unable to shape an 
 opinion for the satisfaction of my mind. I think 
 no one feels more difficulty in coming to a decision 
 on controverted matters than myself. I do not 
 mean that I have not preferences ; but, however 
 coQgruous a theory may be with my notions, I 
 cannot find that comfortable repose that others 
 appear to possess after having made their election 
 of a class of sentiments. The other day Mon- 
 taigne's motto came to my mind (it is mentioned 
 by Pascal) as an appropriate one for me, — " Que 
 sais-je ? " — beneath a pair of balances, though, by 
 the by, it is an ambiguous one, and may be taken 
 in a sense that I desire to reprobate, as well as in 
 a Scriptural one to which I do not refer. I use it 
 in a limited sense as a representation of my oscil- 
 lating judgment. On no subject do I veer to all 
 points of the compass more frequently than on the 
 nature of the visible Church. I am powerfully 
 attracted in a certain direction, but when I am 
 about to settle there, counter-assertions shake me 
 from my position. I cannot enter into details, 
 but when we are together I will tell you all my 
 difficulties, — that is, if you will be kind enough 
 to listen. I have been reading the new prize essay
 
 1839, 
 
 42 Bcligiuus Conti'oversies. [gkiff, 
 
 Letter to Oil " Schism " by Professor Hoppus and Milner's 
 20th Ma^^' " Church History " since I last wrote to you : the 
 former ably expresses the tenets of those who deny 
 that any form of Church government is so clearly 
 dictated in Scripture as to possess a divine right, 
 and, consequently, to be binding on Christians; 
 the latter, you know, exhibits the views of a 
 moderate Evangelical Episcopalian on the infer- 
 ences to be drawn from ecclesiastical remains. 
 He equally repudiates the loud assertion of a Jus 
 divinum, to the exclusion of all separatists from 
 the visible Church, though he calmly maintains 
 the superiority of the evidence in favour of Episco- 
 pacy, of a moderate kind both in power and extent 
 of diocese, as well as the benefit of a national 
 establishment. I have been skimming the " Por- 
 trait of an English Churchman " by the Eev. W. 
 Gresley : this contains an outline of the system of 
 those who exclaim of the Anglican Church as the 
 Jews did of their sacred building (that they do it 
 in as reprehensible a spirit I will not be the 
 judge), " the temple of the Lord, the temple of the 
 Lord, the temple of the Lord " is exclusively 
 theirs ; while the authors of the Oxford Tracts go 
 a step farther, and evince by their compliments to 
 Eome, as a dear though erring sister, and their 
 attempts to give a Romish colour to our ordi- 
 nance, with a very confused and unscriptural 
 statement of the great doctrine of justification, a 
 disposition rather to fraternise with the members 
 of a Churcli carrying on her brow the prophetical 
 epithets applied by St. John to the Scarlet beast, 
 the mystery of Iniquity, than with pious Noncon- 
 formists. It is true they disclaim all this, and 
 that their opinions are seconded by the extensive
 
 18;J9.] First Authorship. 43 
 
 learuing, the laborious zeal, and the deep devo- Letter to 
 
 tion of those who propagate them ; but a reference 20th May, ' 
 
 to facts will convince us that such has generally 
 
 been the character of heretical teachers. Satan 
 
 is too crafty to commit his cause into the hands 
 
 of those who have nothing to recommend them 
 
 to approbation. According to their dogmas, the 
 
 Scotch Church and the foreign Protestant Churches, 
 
 as well as the non-Episcopalians of our own land, 
 
 are wanting in the essentials of existence as part 
 
 of the Church. 
 
 In the next letter there is the first allusion 
 to authorship, but, from the wording of the 
 sentence, the poem referred to has evidently 
 not been a first attempt. 
 I send you some doggerel lines, the crude fruit of Letter to 
 
 Miss Lewis 
 
 a lonely walk last evening, when the words of one i7th juiy, ' 
 
 1839 
 
 of our martyrs occurred to me.. You must be ac- 
 quainted with the idiosyncrasy of my authorship, 
 which is, that my effusions, once committed to 
 paper, are like the laws of the Medes and Persians, 
 that alter not. 
 
 " ' Knowing that shortly I must put off this my tabernacle.'' 
 2 Peter i. 14. 
 
 " As o'er the fields by evening's light I stray, 
 I hear a still small whisper, — Come away ; 
 Thou must to this bright, lovely world soon say 
 
 Farewell ! 
 
 "The mandate I'd obey, my lamp prepare, 
 Gird up my garments, give my soul to pray'r, 
 And say to earth, and all that breatlie earth's air, 
 
 Farewell ! 
 
 ** Thou sun, to whose parental beam I owe 
 All that has gladdeu'd me while here below, 
 Moon, stars, and covenant-confirming bow, 
 
 Farewell I
 
 44 Poem in "Christian Observer r [gkiff, 
 
 " Ye verdant meads, fair blossoms, stately trees, 
 Sweet song of birds and soothing hum of bees, 
 Refreshing odours wafted on the breeze, 
 
 Farewell ! 
 
 " Ye patient servants of creation's Lord, 
 Whose miglity strength is govern'd by His word. 
 Who raiment, food, and help in toil afford, 
 
 Farewell ! 
 
 " Books that have been to me as chests of gold, 
 Which, miserlike, I secretly have told, 
 And for them love, health, friendship, j^eace have sold, 
 
 Farewell ! 
 
 " Blest volume ! whose clear truth-writ page once known, 
 Fades not before heaven's sunshine or hell's moan. 
 To thee I say not, of earth's gifts alone, 
 
 Farewell ! 
 
 " There shall my new-born senses find new joy, 
 New sounds, new sights my eyes and ears employ, 
 Nor fear that word that here brings sad alloy. 
 
 Farewell ! " 
 
 I had a dim recollection that my wife had 
 told me that this poem had been printed some- 
 where. After a long search, I found it in the 
 "Christian Observer" for January, 1840. The 
 version there published has the two following 
 additional verses, and is signed " M. A. E." 
 
 " Ye feebler, freer tribes that people air, 
 Ye gaudy insects, making buds your lair, 
 Ye that in water shine and frolic there, 
 
 Farewell ! 
 
 " Dear kindred whom the Lord to me has given. 
 Must the strong tie that l)inds us now 1)0 riven ? 
 No ! say I — only till we meet in heaven, 
 
 Farewell ! " 
 
 The editor of the "Christian Observer" has 
 added this note : " We do not often add a note
 
 1839.] Various Beading. 45 
 
 to a poem : but if St. John found no temple in 
 the New Jerusalem, neither will there be any 
 need of a Bible ; for we shall not then see 
 through a glass darkly, — through the veil of 
 Sacraments or the written Word, — but face to 
 face. The Bible is God's gift, but not for 
 heaven's use. Still on the very verge of heaven 
 we may cling to it, after we have bid farewell 
 to everything earthly ; and this perhaps is what 
 M. A. E. means." 
 
 In the following letter we already see the 
 tendency to draw illustrations from science : — 
 I have lately led so unsettled a life, and have been Letter to 
 so desultory in my employments, that my mmd, 4^ s^tT''' 
 never of the most highly organised genus, is more ^^^^' 
 than usually chaotic ; or rather it is like a stratum 
 of conglomerated fragments, that shows here a jaw 
 and rib of some ponderous quadruped, there a deli- 
 cate alto-relievo of some fern-like plant, tiny shells, 
 and mysterious nondescripts encrusted and united 
 with some unvaried and uninteresting but useful 
 stone. My mind presents just such an assemblage 
 of disjointed specimens of history, ancient and 
 modern ; scraps of poetry picked up from Shak- 
 speare, Cowper, Wordsworth, and Milton ; news- 
 paper topics ; morsels of Addison and Bacon, Latin 
 verbs, geometry, entomology, and chemistry ; Ee- 
 views and metaphysics, — all arrested and ]3etrified 
 and smothered by the fast-thickening every-day 
 accession of actual events, relative anxieties, and 
 household cares and vexations. How deplorably 
 and unaccountably evanescent are our frames of 
 mind, as various as the forms and hues of the sum- 
 mer clouds ! A single word is sometimes enough 
 to give an entirely new mould to our thoughts, — at
 
 46 
 
 Buys Wordsworth's Poems. 
 
 [' 
 
 GRIFF 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Lewis, 
 4th Sept. 
 1839. 
 
 Ijetter to 
 Miss Lewis, 
 2'2d Nov. 
 1839. 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Lewis, 
 23d Marrh, 
 J840, 
 
 least I find myself so constituted ; and therefore to 
 me it is pre-eminently important to be anchored 
 within the veil, so that outward things may be un- 
 able to send me adrift. Write to me as soon as 
 you can. Remember Michaelmas is coming, and I 
 shall be engaged in matters so nauseating to me 
 that it will be a charity to console me ; to reprove 
 and advise me no less. 
 
 I have emerged from the slough of domestic 
 troubles, or rather, to speak quite clearly, " mal- 
 heurs de cuisine," and am beginning to take a deep 
 breath in my own element, though with a mortify- 
 ing consciousness that my faculties have become 
 superlatively obtuse during my banishment from it. 
 I have been so self-indulgent as to possess myself 
 of Wordsworth at full length, and I thoroughly like 
 much of the contents of the first three vols., which 
 I fancy are only the low vestibule of the three 
 remaining ones. I never before met with so many 
 of my own feelings expressed just as I could like 
 them. The distress of the lower classes in our 
 neighbourhood is daily increasing from the scarcity 
 of employment for weavers, and I seem sadly to 
 have handcuffed myself by unnecessary expenditure. 
 To-day is my 20th birthday. 
 
 This allusion to Wordsworth is interesting, 
 as it entirely expresses tlie feeling slie liad to 
 him up to the day of her death. One of the 
 very last books we read together at Cheyne 
 Walk was Mr. Frederick Myers's " Wordsworth " 
 in the "English Men of Letters," which she 
 heartily enjoyed. 
 I have just received my second lesson in CJerman. 
 
 I know you will be glad to think of me as 
 thoroughly employed, as indeed I am to an extent
 
 i840.] Flan of Chart 47 
 
 that makes me fear I shall not be able to accom- Letter to 
 
 plish everything well. I have engaged, if possible, m' May7' ' 
 
 to complete the Chart,^ the plan of which I evelling" ^^ 
 
 sketched out last year, by November next, and I 
 
 am encouraged to believe that it will answer my 
 
 purpose to print it. The profits arising from its 
 
 sale, if any, will go partly to Attleboro Church, and 
 
 partly to a favourite object of my own. Mrs. New- 
 
 digate is very anxious that I should do this, and 
 
 she permits me to visit her library when I please, 
 
 in search of any books that may assist me. Will 
 
 you ask Mr. Craig what he considers the best 
 
 authority for the date of the apostolical writings ? 
 
 I should like to carry the Chart down to the 
 
 Eeformation, if my time and resources will enable 
 
 me to do so. We are gomg to have a clothing club, 
 
 the arrangement and starting of which are left to 
 
 me. I am ashamed to run the risk of troubling 
 
 you, but I should be very grateful if you could 
 
 send me an abstract of the rules by which yours is 
 
 regulated. 
 
 Our house is now, and will be for the next two Letter to 
 months, miserably noisy and disorderly with the 2isTMay, ' 
 musical operations of masons, carpenters, and paint- 
 ers. You know how abhorrent all this is to my 
 tastes and feelings, taking all the spice out of my 
 favourite little epithet, " this working-day world " : 
 I can no longer use it figuratively. How impressive 
 must the gradual rise of Solomon's Temple have 
 been ! each prepared mass of virgin marble laid in 
 reverential silence. I fancy Heber has compared it 
 to the growth of a palm. Your nice miniature 
 chart, which I shall carefully treasure up, has quite 
 satisfied me that Dr. Pearson at least has not real- 
 
 1 Of ecclesiastical history.
 
 48 Chart of Ecclesiastical History. [griff, 
 
 Letter to ised mv conceptions, though it has left me still 
 
 Miss Lewis . 
 
 21st May, ' (luLious as to my own power of doing so. I will 
 just (if you can bear to hear more of the matter) 
 give you an idea of the plan, which may have partly 
 faded from your memory. The series of perpendic- 
 ular columns will successively contain the Koman 
 emperors with their dates, the political and reli- 
 gious state of the Jews, the Bishops, remarkable men 
 and events in the several Churches, a column being 
 devoted to each of the chief ones, the aspect of 
 heathenism and Judaism towards Christianity, the 
 chronology of the Apostolical and Patristical writ- 
 ings, schisms and heresies, General Councils, eras of 
 corruption (under which head the remarks would be 
 general), and I thought possibly an application of 
 the apocalyptic prophecies, which would merely re- 
 quhe a few figures and not take up room, I think 
 there must be a break in the Chart, after the 
 establishment of Christianity as the religion of the 
 empire, and I have come to a determination not 
 to carry it beyond the first acknowledgment of the 
 supremacy of the Pope by Phocas in 606, when 
 Mohammedanism became a besom of destruction in 
 the hand of the Lord, and completely altered the 
 aspect of ecclesiastical history. So much for this at 
 present airy project, about which I hope never to 
 tease you more. Mr. Harper ^ lent me a little 
 time ago a work by the Rev. W. Gresley, begging 
 me to read it, as he thought it was calculated to 
 make me a proselyte to the opinions it advocates. 
 I had skimmed the book before (" Portrait of an 
 English Churchman "), but I read it attentively a 
 second time, and was pleased witli the spirit of 
 piety that breathes throughout. His last work is 
 
 1 The Scjuire of Coton.
 
 1840.] Religious Controversies. 49 
 
 one in a similar style (" The English Citizen "), which Letter to 
 I have cursorily read; and as they are both likely to 2is?May,^ 
 be seen by you, I want to know your opinion of 
 them. Mine is this : that they are sure to have a 
 powerful influence on the minds of small readers 
 and shallow thinkers, as from the simplicity and 
 clearness with which the author, by his heau ideal 
 characters, enunciates his sentiments, they furnish a 
 magazine of easily wielded weapons for ynorniiig- 
 calling and evening-j)arty controversialists, as well 
 as that really honest minds will be inclined to 
 think they have found a resting-place amid the 
 footballing of religious parties. But it appears to 
 me that there is unfairness in arbitrarily selecting a 
 train of circumstances and a set of characters as a 
 development of a class of opinions. In this way 
 we might make atheism appear wonderfully calcu- 
 lated to promote social happiness. I remember, as 
 I daresay you do, a very amiable atheist depicted 
 by Bulwer in " Devereux ; " and for some time after 
 the perusal of that book, which I read seven or 
 eight years ago, ^ I was considerably shaken by the 
 impression that religion was not a requisite to 
 moral excellence. 
 
 Have you not alternating seasons of mental stag- 
 nation and activity ? — just such as the political 
 economists say there must be in a nation's pecu- 
 niary condition, — all one's precious specie, time, 
 going out to procure a stock of commodities, while 
 one's own manufactures are too paltry to be worth 
 vending. I am just in that condition, — partly, I 
 think, owing to my not having met with any steel 
 to sharpen my edge against for the last three weeks. 
 
 * When she would be thirteen years old. 
 TOL. I. — 4
 
 50 Oxford Tracts — "Christian Year." [orifp, 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Lewis, 
 21st May, 
 1840. 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Lewis, 
 2t;th May, 
 1840. 
 
 I am going to read a volume of the Oxford Tracts 
 and the " Lyra Apostolica " : the former I almost 
 shrink from the labour of connino- but the other 
 I confess I am attracted towards by some highly 
 poetical extracts that I have picked up in various 
 quarters. I have just bought Mr. Keble's " Chris- 
 tian Year," a volume of sweet poetry that perhaps 
 you know. The fields of poesy look more lovely 
 than ever, now I have hedged myself in the geome- 
 trical regions of fact, where I can do nothing but 
 draw parallels and measure differences in a double 
 sense. 
 
 1 I will only hint that there seems a probability 
 of my being an unoccupied damsel, of my being 
 severed from all the ties that have hitherto given 
 my existence the semblance of a usefulness beyond 
 that of making up the requisite quantum of animal 
 matter in the universe. A second important inti- 
 mation respecting my worthy self is one that, I 
 confess, I impart without one sigh, though perhaps 
 you will think my callousness discreditable. It is 
 that Seeley & Burnside liave just publislied a Chart 
 of Ecclesiastical History, doubtless giving to my 
 airy, vision a local liabitation and a name. I console 
 all my little regrets by thinking that wliat is thus 
 evidenced to be a desideratum has been executed 
 mucli bettor than if left to my slow fingers and 
 slower head. I fear T am laboriously doing noth- 
 ing, for T am beguiled by the fascination tliat the 
 study of languages has for my cnpricious mind. 
 I could e'en give myself up to making discoveries 
 in the world of words. 
 
 May I trouble you to procure for me an Italian 
 book recommendo.d Ity Mr. Brezzi, Silvio Pellico's 
 
 1 Writteu probably in view of ber brother's marriage.
 
 1840.] "Faery Queen " and "Don Quixote.^' 51 
 
 " Le mie Prigioui " — if not, " Storia d'ltalia " ? If Letter to 
 they are cheap, I should like both. in Lon- 
 
 I shall have, I hope, a little trip with my father Wednesday, 
 next week into Derbyshire, and this " lark " will ''""'• '^''*- 
 probably be beneficial to me ; so that do not imagine 
 I am inviting you to come and hear moaning, when 
 you need all attainable relaxation. 
 
 Your letter greeted me last night on my arrival Letter to 
 from Staffordshire. The prospectus of Mr. Henslow's 23d June, ^ 
 work is as marvellous to my ignorant concep- 
 tions as the prophecies of the wonders of the steam- 
 engine would have been to some British worthy in 
 the days of Caractacus. I can only gape as he 
 would probably have done. I hope Mr. H. has not 
 imitated certain show-keepers, who give so exagger- 
 ated a representation of their giantess, on the out- 
 side, that the spectators have disappointment for 
 their cash within. 
 
 If I do not see you, how shall I send your " Don 
 Quixote," which I hope soon to finish ? I have been 
 sadly interrupted by other books that have taken 
 its scanty allowance of time, or I should have made 
 better haste with it. Will you try to get me Spen- 
 ser's "Faery Queen"? the cheapest edition, with 
 a glossary, which is quite indispensable, together 
 with a clear and correct type. I have had some 
 treats on my little excursion, not the least of which 
 was the gazing on some — alljeit the smallest — of 
 the " everlasting hills," and on those noblest chil- 
 dren of the earth — fine healthy trees — as indepen- 
 dent in their beauty as virtue : set them where you 
 will, they adorn and need not adornment. Father 
 indulged me with a sight of Ashborne Church, the 
 finest mere parish church in tlie kingdom, — in the 
 interior ; of Alton Gardens, where I saw actually
 
 52 
 
 Trip to Staffordshire. 
 
 [griff, 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Lewis, 
 23d June, 
 1840. 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Lewis, 
 July, Mon- 
 day morn- 
 ing, 1840. 
 
 wha,t I have often seen mentally, — the bread-fruit 
 tree, the fan-palm, and the papyrus; and last, of 
 Lichfield Cathedral, where, besides the exquisite 
 architectural beauties both external and internal, 
 I saw Chantrey's famous monument of the Sleeping 
 Children. There is a tasteless monument to the 
 learned and brilliant female pedant of Lichfield, 
 Miss Seward, with a poor epitaph by Sir Walter 
 Scott. In the town we saw a large monument 
 erected to Johnson's memory, showing his Titanic 
 body, in a sitting posture, on the summit of a 
 pedestal which is ornamented with bas-reliefs of 
 three passages in his life ; his penance in Uttoxe- 
 ter Market, his chairing on the shoulders of his 
 schoolmates, and his listening to the preaching of 
 Sacheverel. The statue is opposite to the house 
 in which Johnson was born, — altogether inferior 
 to that in St. Paul's, which shook me almost as 
 much as a real glance from the literary monarch. 
 I am ashamed to send you so many ill-clothed 
 nothings. My excuse shall be a state of head 
 that calls for four leeches before I can attack 
 Mrs. Somerville's " Connection of the Physical 
 Sciences." 
 
 I write with a very tremulous hand, as you will 
 perceive : both this, and many other defects in my 
 letter, are attributable to a very mighty cause, — 
 no other than the boiling of currant jelly ! I have 
 had much of this kind of occupation lately, and I 
 grieve to say I have not gone tlirough it so cheer- 
 fully as the character of a Christian who professes 
 to do all, even the most trifling, duty as the Lord 
 demands. My mind is consequently run all wild., 
 and bears nothing but dog-roses. I am truly 
 obliged to you for getting me Spenser. How shall
 
 1840.] Beads Isaac Taylor. 53 
 
 I send to you " Don Quixote," which I have quite 
 finished ? 
 
 I believe it is decided that father and I should Letter to 
 leave Griff and take up our residence somewhere sth Juiy^** 
 in the neighbourhood of Coventry, if we can ob- ^^^' 
 tain a suitable house ; and this is at present a 
 matter of anxiety. So you see I am likely still 
 to have a home where I can independently welcome 
 you. I am really so plunged in an abyss of books, 
 preserves, and sundry important trivialities, that 
 I must send you this bare proof that I have not 
 cast the remembrance of you to a dusty corner of 
 my heart. Ever believe that " my heart is as thy 
 heart," that you may rely on me as a second self, 
 and that I shall, with my usual selfishness, lose 
 no opportunity of gratifying my duplicate. 
 
 The Epistle to the Colossians is pre-eminently Letter to 
 rich in the colouring with which it portrays the mh aS^^ 
 divine fulness contained in the Saviour, contrasted ^^^' 
 with the beggarly elements that a spirit of self- 
 righteousness would, in some way, mingle with the 
 light of life, the filthy rags it would tack round the 
 " fine raiment " of His righteousness. I have been 
 reading it in connection with a train of thought sug- 
 gested by the reading of " Ancient Christianity and 
 the Oxford Tracts," by Isaac Taylor, one of the most 
 eloquent, acute, and pious of writers. Five numbers 
 only have yet appeared. Have you seen them ? If 
 not, I should like to send you an abstract of his 
 argument. I have gulped it (pardon my coarseness) 
 in a most reptile-like fashion. I must chew it 
 thoroughly to facilitate its assimilation with my men- 
 tal frame. When your pupils can relish Church 
 history, I venture to recommend the Chart lately 
 published by Seeley & Burnside, — far superior in
 
 64 Influence of Isaac Taylor. [griff, 
 
 conception to mine, as being more compendious, yet 
 answering the purpose of presenting epochs as nuclei 
 round which less important events instinctively 
 cluster. 
 
 Mrs. John Cash of Coventry, who was then 
 Miss Mary Sibree, daughter of a Nonconformist 
 minister there, and whose acquaintance Miss 
 Evans made a year or two later in Coventry, 
 writes in regard to this book of Isaac Taylor's : 
 " In her first conversations with my father and 
 mother, they were much interested in learning 
 in what high estimation she held the writings 
 of Isaac Taylor. My father thought she was a 
 little disappointed on hearing that he was a Dis- 
 senter. She particularly enjoyed his ' Saturday 
 Evening,' and spoke in years after to me of his 
 ' Physical Theory of Another Life,' as exciting 
 thought and leading speculation further than he 
 would have desired. When his ' Ancient Chris- 
 tianity ' was published in numbers. Miss Evans 
 took it in, and kindly forwarded the numbers to 
 us. From the impression made on my own mind 
 by unfavourable facts about ' The Fathers,' and 
 from her own subsequent references to this work, 
 I am inclined to think it had its influence in 
 unsettling her views of Christianity." 
 Letter to I have thought of you as the one who lias ever shown 
 nthsf^tl*' herself so capable of consideration for my weakness 
 and sympathy in my warm and easily fastened atl'ec- 
 tions. My imagination is an enemy that must be 
 cast down ere I can enjoy peace or exhibit uniform- 
 ity of chnractcr. I know not which of its caprices 
 I have most to dread, — that which incites it to 
 spread sackcloth "above, below, around," or that 
 which makes it " cheat my eye with blear illusion. 
 
 1840,
 
 1840.] Shelley's "Cloud" 55 
 
 and beget strange dreams" of excellence and beauty Letter to 
 in beings and things of only working-day price, nths'ejt^ 
 The beautiful heavens that we have lately enjoyed ^*'^" 
 awaken in me an indescribable sensation of exulta- 
 tion in existence, and aspiration after all that is 
 suited to engage an immaterial nature. I have not 
 read very many of Mr. B.'s poems, nor any with 
 much attention. I simply declare my determination 
 not to feed on the broth of literature when I can 
 get strong soup, — such, for instance, as Shelley's 
 " Cloud," the five or six stanzas of which contain 
 more poetic metal than is beat out in all Mr. B.'s 
 pages. You must know I have had bestowed on me 
 the very pretty cognomen of Clematis, which, in 
 the floral language, means mental beauty. I cannot 
 find in my heart to refuse it, though, like many 
 other appellations, it has rather the appearance of a 
 satire than a compliment. Addio ! I will send 
 your floral name in my next, when I have received 
 my dictionary. My hand and mind are wearied 
 with wanting four pages of German and a letter of 
 business. 
 
 My dear Veronica, — which, being interpreted, is Letter to 
 fidelity in friendship, — Last week I was absent iatoct?mo. 
 from home from AVednesday to Saturday, in quest 
 of the " coy maiden " Pleasure — at least nomi- 
 nally so, the real motive being rather to gratify 
 another's feeling.^ I heard the " Messiah " on 
 Thursday morning at Birmingham, and some beau- 
 tiful selections from other oratorios of Handel and 
 Haydn on Friday. With a stupid, drowsy sensa- 
 tion, produced by standing sentinel over damson 
 cheese and a warm stove, I cannot do better than 
 ask you to read, if accessible, Wordsworth's short 
 
 1 Visit to Miss Kawlins, her brother's ^ancee.
 
 56 German Translation. [griff 
 
 Letter to poem Oil the " Power of Sound," with which I 
 utodt^iwo. have just been delighted. I have made an altera- 
 tion in my plans with Mr. Brezzi, and shall hence- 
 forward take Italian and German alternately, so 
 that I shall not be liable to the consciousness of 
 having imperative employment for every interstice 
 of time. There seems a greater affinity between 
 German and my mind than Italian, though less new 
 to me, possesses. 
 
 I am reading Schiller's " Maria Stuart," and 
 Tasso. 
 
 I was pleased with a little poem I learnt a week 
 or two ago in German ; and as I want you to like 
 it, I have just put the idea it contains into English 
 doggerel, w^iich quite fails to represent the beauti- 
 ful simplicity and nature of the original, but yet, I 
 hope, will give you sufficiently its sense to screen the 
 odiousness of the translation Eccola : — 
 
 QUESTION AND ANSWER. 
 
 "'"Where blooms, O my father, a thornless rose? ' 
 ' That can I not tell thee, my child ; 
 Not one on the bosom of earth e'er grows, 
 
 But wounds whom its charms have beguiled.' 
 
 ' Would I 'd a rose on my bosom to lie, 
 But I slirink from the piercing thorn : 
 
 I long, but I dare not its point defy ; 
 I long, and I gaze forlorn.' 
 
 ' Not so, my child — round the stem again 
 
 Thy resolute fingers entwine ; 
 Forego not the joy for its sister, pain — 
 
 Let the rose, the sweet rose, be thine.' " 
 
 Would not n parcel reach you by railway ? 
 
 This is the first allusion to the new means of 
 locomotion, which would, no doubt, be attract- 
 ing much interest in the Griff household, as
 
 1840.] Walled-ill World. 57 
 
 valuation was a large part of Mr. Evans's busi- 
 ness. Long years after, George Eliot wrote : — 
 " Our midland plains have never lost their familiar 
 expression and conservative spirit for me ; yet at 
 every other mile, since I first looked on them, some 
 sign of world-wide change, some new direction of 
 human labour, has wrought itself into what one 
 may call the speech of the landscape. . . . There 
 comes a crowd of burly navvies with pickaxes and 
 barrows, and while hardly a wrinkle is made in 
 the fadinsT mother's face or a new curve of health in 
 the blooming girl's, the hills are cut through, or the 
 breaches between them spanned, we choose our 
 level, and the white steam-pennon flies along it." 
 
 My only reason for writing is to obtain a timely Letter to 
 promise that you will spend your holidays chiefly uTrhOctl"^' 
 with me, that we may once more meet among scenes ^^^' 
 which, now I am called on to leave them, I find to 
 have grown in to my affections. Carlyle says that 
 to the artisans of Glasgow the world is not one of 
 blue skies and a green carpet, but a world of cop- 
 peras-fumes, low cellars, hard wages, " striking," and 
 whiskey ; and if the recollection of this picture did 
 not remind me that gratitude should be my reservoir 
 of feeling, that into which all that comes from above 
 or around should be received as a source of fertilisa- 
 tion for my soul, I should give a lachrymose parody 
 of the said description, and tell you ail-seriously 
 what I now tell you playfully, that mine is too 
 often a world such as Wilkie can so well paint, — 
 a walled-in world furnished with all the details 
 which he remembers so accurately, and the least 
 interesting part thereof is often what I suppose 
 must be designated the intelligent ; but I deny that 
 it has even a comparative claim to the appellation,
 
 IS-W. 
 
 58 Social Dangers. [griff, 
 
 Letter to f 01 give Hie a three-legged stool, and it will call up 
 27th oct"^' associations — moral, poetical, mathematical — if I 
 do but ask it, while some human beings have the 
 odious power of contaminating the very images that 
 are enshrined as our soul's arcana. Their baleful 
 touch has the same effect as would a uniformity in 
 the rays of light, — it turns all objects to pale-lead 
 colour. Oh, how luxuriously joyous to have the wind 
 of heaven blow on one after being stived in a human 
 atmosphere, — to feel one's heart leap up after the 
 pressure that Shakspeare so admirably describes : 
 " When a man's wit is not seconded by the forward 
 chick understanding, it strikes a man as dead as a 
 large reckoning in a small room." But it is time I 
 check this Byrunic invective, and, in doing so, I am 
 reminded of Corinne's, or rather Oswald's, reproof, — 
 " La vie est un cojnbat, pas un hymne." We should 
 aim to be like a plant in the chamljer of sickness, — 
 dispensing purifying air even in a region that turns 
 all pale its verdure, and cramps its instinctive pro- 
 pensity to expand. Society is a wide nursery of 
 plants, where the hundreds decompose to nourish 
 the future ten, after giving collateral benefits to their 
 contemporaries destined for a fairer garden. An 
 awful thought ! one so heavy that if our souls could 
 once sustain its whole weight, or rather if its whole 
 weight were once to drop on them, they would 
 break and burst their tenements. How long will 
 this continue ? The cry of the martyrs heard by 
 St, John finds an echo in every heart that, like Solo- 
 mon's, groans under "the outrage and oppression 
 with which earth is filled." Events are now so 
 momentous, and the elements of society in so chem- 
 ically critical a state, that a drop seems enough to 
 change its whole form.
 
 1840.] Sensitiveness. 59 
 
 I am reading Harris's " Great Teacher," and am Letter to 
 innig hewegt, as a German would say, by its stirring 27th Oct. ^ 
 eloquence, which leaves you no time or strength for ^*^' 
 a cold estimate of the writer's strict merits. I wish 
 I could read some extracts to you. Isaac Taylor's 
 work is not yet complete. When it is so, I hope to 
 reperuse it. Since I wrote to you I have had Aim€ 
 Martin's work, " L'Educatiou des Mferes," lent to 
 me, and I have found it to be the real Greece 
 whence " Woman's Mission " has only imported to 
 us a few marbles — but! Martin is a soi-disant ra- 
 tional Christian, if I mistake him not. I send you 
 an epitaph which he mentions on a tomb in Paris, 
 — that of a mother : " Dors en paix, ma m^re ; 
 ton fils t'obeira toujours." I am reading eclectically 
 Mrs. Hemans's poems, and venture to recommend 
 to your perusal, if unknown to you, one of the 
 longest ones, — " The Forest Sanctuary." I can 
 give it my pet adjective, — Exquisite. 
 
 I have adopted as my motto, — " Cerium pete 
 finem" — Seek a sure end.^ 
 
 Come when you would best like to do so : if my Letter to 
 heart beat at all at the time, it will be with a more 5th Deo!™* 
 rapid motion than the general, from the joy of see- ^^^' 
 ing you. I cannot promise you more than calmness 
 when that flush is past, for I am aweary, aweary — 
 longing for rest, which seems to fly from my very 
 anticipations. But this wrought-up sensitiveness 
 which makes me shrink from all contact is, I know, 
 not for communication or sympathy, and is, from 
 that very character, a kind of trial best suited for 
 me. Whatever tends to render us ill-contented 
 with ourselves, and more earnest aspirants after 
 
 1 By a curious coincidence, when she became Mrs. Cross, this 
 actually was her motto.
 
 60 
 
 Sewing. 
 
 [griff 
 
 liCtter to 
 Miss Lewis, 
 5th Dec. 
 1840. 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Lewis, 
 2l8t Dec. 
 1840. 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Lewis, 
 27th Jan. 
 1841. 
 
 Letter to 
 Mifts Lewis, 
 nth Feb. 
 1841. 
 
 perfect truth and goodness, is gold, though it come 
 to us all molten and burning, and we know not our 
 treasure until we have had long smarting. 
 
 It is impossible, to me at least, to be poetical in 
 cold weather. I understand the Icelanders have 
 much national poetry, but I guess it was written in 
 the neighbourhood of the boiling springs. I will 
 promise to be as cheerful and as Christmas-like as 
 my rickety body and chameleon-like spirits will 
 allow. I am about to commence the making of 
 mince-pies, with all the interesting sensations char- 
 acterising young enterprise or effort. 
 
 Happily, the moody, melancholy temperament 
 has some counterbalancing advantages to those of 
 the sanguine : it does sometimes meet with results 
 more favourable than it expected, and by its knack 
 of imagining the pessimus, cheats the world of its 
 power to disappoint. The very worm-like origi- 
 nator of this coil of sentiment is the fact that you 
 write more cheerfully of yourself than I had been 
 thinking of you, and that ergo I am pleased. 
 
 On Monday and Tuesday my father and I 
 occupied with the sale of furniture at our 
 house : it is probable that we shall migrate thither 
 in a month. I shall be incessantly Imrried until 
 after our departure, but at present I have to be 
 grateful for a smooth passage through contemplated 
 difficulties. Sewing is my staple article of com- 
 merce with the hard trader Time. Now the wind 
 has veered to the south I hope to do much more, 
 and that with greater zest than I have done for 
 many months — I mean of all kinds. 
 
 I have been reading the three volumes of the 
 " Life and Times of Louis the Fourteenth," and am 
 as eagerly waiting for the fourth and last as any 
 
 were 
 new
 
 1841.] Wai''s Purgations. 61 
 
 voracious novel-reader for Bulwer's last. I am Letter to 
 afraid I am getting quite martial in my spirit, and, mh J^b"^' 
 in the warmth of my sympathy for Turenne and ^^^' 
 Condd, losing my hatred of war. Such a conflict 
 between individual and moral influence is no 
 novelty. But certainly war, though the heaviest 
 scourge with which the divine wrath against sin 
 is manifested in Time, has been a necessary vent 
 for impurities and a channel for tempestuous pas- 
 sions that must have otherwise made the whole 
 earth, like the land of the devoted Canaanites, to 
 vomit forth the inhabitants thereof. Awful as 
 such a sentiment appears, it seems to me that in the 
 present condition of man (and I do not mean this 
 in the sense that Cowper does), such a purgation of 
 the body politic is probably essential to its health. 
 A foreign war would soon put an end to our 
 national humours, that are growing to so alarming 
 a head. 
 
 What do you think of the Progress of Architec- Letter to 
 ture as a subject for Poetry ? stu March, 
 
 I am just about to set out on a purchasing ex- 
 pedition to Coventry : you may therefore conceive 
 that I am full of little plans and anxieties, and will 
 understand why I should be brief, I hope by the 
 close of next week that we and our effects shall be 
 deposited at Foleshill, and until then and afterwards 
 I shall be fully occupied, so that I am sure you will 
 not expect to hear from me for the next six weeks. 
 One little bit of unreasonableness you must grant 
 me, — the request for a letter from yourself within 
 that time.
 
 62 Summary of Chajpter I. [Ibil.] 
 
 SUMMARY. 
 
 AUGUST 18, 1838, TO MAKCH 8, 1841. 
 
 Letters to Miss Lewis — First visit to London — Religious 
 asceticism — Pascal — Hannah More"s letters — Young's " lulidel 
 Reclaimed " — Michaelmas visitors — Life of WUberforce — ]Niue- 
 teeuth birthday — Oratorio at Coventry — Religious objections to 
 music — Letters to ^Mrs. Samuel Evans — Religious retlectious — 
 Besetting sin, ambition — Letters to Miss Lewis — objections to 
 fiction reading — Religious contentions on the nature of the visible 
 Church — First poem — Account of books read and studies pursued 
 — Wordsworth — Twentieth birthday — German begun ■ — Plan of 
 Chart of Ecclesiastical History — Religious controversies — Oxford 
 Tracts — " Lyra Apostolica " — " Christian Year " — Chart of 
 Ecclesiastical History forestalled — Italian begun — Trip to Derby- 
 shire and Staffordshire — " Don Quixote " — Spenser's " Faery 
 Queen " — Mrs. Somer\-)lle's " Connection of the Physical Sci- 
 ences " — Dislike of housekeeping work — Removal to Coventry 
 decided — " Ancient Christianity and the Oxford Tracts," by 
 Isaac Taylor, and Mrs. John Cash's impression of its effect — 
 Determination not to feed on the broth of literature — Visit to 
 Birmingham to hear " Messiah " — Reading Schiller's " Maria 
 Stuart" and Tasso — Translation of German poem — Depression 
 of surroundings at Griff — Reading Harris's "Great Teacher," 
 Aime' Martin's " L'6ducation des Meres," and Mrs. Hemans's 
 Poems — Buying furniture at new house — Sewing — Reading 
 " Life and Times of Louis XTV." — Removal to Foleshill Road, 
 Coventry.
 
 
 FoLESHILL.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 New circumstances now created a change almost 
 amounting to a revolution in Miss Evans's life. 
 Mr. Isaac Evans, who had been associated for 
 some time with his father in the land agency 
 business, married, and it was arranged that he 
 should take over the establishment at Griff. 
 This led to the removal in March, 1841, of 
 Mr. Eobert Evans and his daughter to a house 
 on the Foleshill Road, in the immediate neigh- 
 bourhood of Coventry. The house is still 
 standing, although considerably altered, — a 
 semi-detached house with a good bit of garden 
 round it, and from its upper windows a wide 
 view over the surrounding country, the im- 
 mediate foreground being unfortunately, how- 
 ever, disfigured by the presence of mills and 
 chimneys. It is town life now instead of 
 country life, and we feel the effects at once in 
 the tone of the subsequent letters. The friend- 
 ships now formed with Mr. and Mrs. Bray and 
 Miss Sara Hennell particularly, and the being 
 brought within reach of a small circle of culti- 
 vated people generally, render this change of 
 residence an exceedingly important factor in 
 George Eliot's development. It chanced that 
 the new house was next door to Mrs. Pears, a 
 sister of Mr. Bray, and as there had been some 
 acquaintance in days gone by between him and 
 the family at Griff, this close neighbourhood led
 
 64 
 
 Satisfaction with New Life, [foleshii.l, 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Lewis, 
 Saturday 
 evening, 
 April, 1841. 
 
 Letter to 
 MiHs Lf^wis, 
 April, 1841. 
 
 to an exchange of visits. The following ex- 
 tracts from letters to Miss Lewis show how the 
 acquaintance ripened, and will give some indi- 
 cations of the first impressions of Coventry 
 life : — 
 Last evening I mentioned you to my neighbour 
 (Mrs. Pears), who is growing into the more pre- 
 cious character of a friend. I have seriously to 
 be thankful for far better health than I have pos- 
 sessed, I think, for years, and I am imperatively 
 called on to trade diligently with this same talent. 
 I am likely to be more and more busy, if I succeed 
 in a project that is just now occupying my thoughts 
 and feelings. I seem to be tried in a contrary 
 mode to that in which most of my dearest friends 
 are being tutored, — tried in the most dangerous 
 way, — by prosperity. Solomon says, " In the day 
 of prosperity be joyful, but in the day of adversity 
 consider. " It seems to me that a transposition, 
 vice versa, of the admonitions would be equally 
 salutary and just. Truly, as the prophet of Selwyn 
 has told us, " Heaven is formidable in its favours. " 
 Not that a wise and grateful reception of blessings 
 obliges us to stretch our faces to the length of one 
 of Cromwell's Barebones ; nor to shun that joyous 
 bird-like enjoyment of things (which, though 
 perishable as to their actual existence, will be 
 embalmed to eternity in the precious spices of 
 gratitude) that is distinct from levity and volup- 
 tuousness. I am really crowded with engagements 
 just now, and I have added one to the number of 
 my correspondents. 
 
 The whole of last week was devoted to a brides- 
 maid's ^ duties, and each day of this has been 
 
 1 Brother's marriage.
 
 1841.] Meligio%is Aspirations. 65 
 
 partially occupied in paying or receiving visits. Letter to 
 I have a calm in sea and sky that I doubt not will Ap^ll^lS^. 
 erelong be interrupted. This is not our rest, if 
 we are among those for whom there remaineth one, 
 and to pass through life without tribulation (or, as 
 Jeremy Taylor beautifully says, with only such a 
 measure of it as may be compared to an artificial 
 discord in music, which nurses the ear for the 
 returning harmony) would leave us destitute of 
 one of the marks that invariably accompany sal- 
 vation, and of that fellowship in the sufferings of 
 the Eedeemer which can alone work in us a resem- 
 blance to one of the most prominent parts of His 
 divinely perfect character, and enable us to obey 
 the injunction, " In patiencQ possess your souls. " 
 I have often observed how, in secular things, active 
 occupation in procuring the necessaries of life ren- 
 ders the character indifferent to trials not affecting 
 that one object. There is an analogous influence 
 produced in the Christian by a vigorous pursuit of 
 duty, a determination to work while it is day. 
 
 One of the penalties women must pay for modern Letter to 
 deference to their intellect is, I suppose, that ^I'thAp^u^ 
 they must give reasons for their conduct after the ^^^' 
 fashion of men. The days are past for pleading 
 a woman's reason. The truth is, that the hin- 
 drances to my writing have been like the little 
 waves of the brooks that look so lovely just now, 
 — they have arisen one after another close to my 
 side, but when I have looked back I have found 
 the ripples too insignificant to be marked in the 
 distance. My father's longer sejours at home than 
 formerly, and multiplied acquaintances and en- 
 gagements, are really valid excuses for me hitherto, 
 but I do not intend to need them in future ; I hope 
 
 VOL. I — 5
 
 66 
 
 Depression. 
 
 [foleshilL; 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Lewis, 
 28th April, 
 1841. 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Lewis, 
 Thursday 
 morning, 
 June, 1841. 
 
 to be a " snapper up of unconsidered " moments. 
 I have just been interrupted by a visit from a las* 
 of fourteen who has despoiled me of half an hour, 
 and I am going out to dinner, so that I cannot 
 follow the famous advice, " Hasten slowly. " I 
 suppose that you framed your note on the principle 
 that a sharp and sudden sound is the most rousing, 
 but there are addenda about yourself that I want 
 to know, though I dare not ask for them. I do 
 not feel settled enough to write more at present. 
 How is it that Erasmus could w^ite volumes on 
 volumes and multifarious letters besides, while I, 
 whose labours hold about the same relation to his 
 as an ant-hill to a pyramid or a drop of dew to 
 the ocean, seem too busy to write a few ? A most 
 posing query ! 
 
 I have of late felt a depression that has dis- 
 ordered the vision of my mind's eye and made 
 me alive to what is certainly a fact (though my 
 imagination when I am in health is an adept at 
 concealing it), that I am alone in the world. I do 
 not mean to be so sinful as to say that I have not 
 friends most undeservedly kind and tender, and 
 disposed to form a far too favourable estimate of 
 me, but I mean that I have no one who enters into 
 my pleasures or my griefs, no one with whom I 
 can pour out my soul, no one with the same yearn- 
 ings, the same temptations, the same delights as 
 myself. I merely mention this as the impression 
 that obtrudes itself when my body tramples on its 
 keeper, — (a metaphor borrowed from a menagerie 
 of wild beasts if it should happen to puzzle you !) 
 — mysterious " connection exquisite of distant 
 worlds " that we present ! A few drops of steel 
 will perhaps make me laugh at the simple objects
 
 ^841.] "Architecttire of the Heavens." 67 
 
 that, in gloom and mist, I conjure into stalking 
 apparitions. 
 
 I am beginning to be interlaced with multiply- Letter to 
 ing ties of duty and affection that, while they ren- at Maigrt^ 
 der my new home happier, forbid me to leave it on isfi.'^''^^' 
 a pleasure-seeking expedition. I think, indeed, 
 that both my heart and limbs would leap to behold 
 the great and wide sea, — that old ocean on which 
 man can leave no trace. 
 
 I have been revelling in Nichol's " Architecture Letterto 
 of the Heavens and Phenomena of the Solar Sys- sdsept. 
 tem," and have been in imagination winging my 
 flight from system to system, from universe to 
 universe, trying to conceive myself in such a posi- 
 tion and with such a visual faculty as would 
 enable me to enjoy what Young enumerates among 
 the novelties of the " Stranger " man when he 
 bursts the shell to 
 
 " Behold an infinite of floating worlds 
 Divide the crystal waves of ether pure 
 In endless voyage witliout port." 
 
 "Hospitable infinity!" Nichol beautifully says. 
 How should I love to have a thoroughgoing stu- 
 dent with me, that we might read together! We 
 might each alternately employ the voice and 
 the fingers, and thus achieve just twice as much 
 as a poor solitary. I am more impressed than ever 
 with a truth beautifully expressed in "Woman's 
 Mission " — " Learning is only so far valuable as 
 it serves to enlarge and enlighten the bounds of 
 conscience. " This I believe it eminently does 
 when pursued humbly and piously, and from a 
 belief that it is a solemn duty to cultivate every 
 faculty of our nature so far as primary obliga- 
 tions allow. There is an exhortation of St. Paul's
 
 1841. 
 
 68 Mind requires Rest. [foleshill, 
 
 Letter to that I shoiild lovG to take as my motto : " Finally, 
 M sepr''' my brethren, whatsoever things are honest " (you 
 know the continuation), — " if there be any vir- 
 tue, and if there be any praise, think on these 
 things. " I have had to lament lately that mine 
 is not a hard-working mind, — it requires fre- 
 quent rest. I am violently in love with the 
 Italian fashion of repeating an adjective or adverb, 
 and even noun, to give force to expression : there 
 is so much more fire in it than in our circumlocu- 
 tory phrases, our dull " verys " and " exceedinglys " 
 and " extremelys. " I strongly recommend Hallam 
 to you. I shall read it again if I live. When a 
 sort of haziness comes over the mind, making one 
 feel weary of articulated or written signs of ideas, 
 does not the notion of a less laborious mode of 
 communication, of a perception approaching more 
 nearly to intuition, seem attractive ? Nathless, I 
 love words : they are the quoits, the bows, the 
 staves that furnish the gymnasium of the mind. 
 Without them, in our present condition, our intel- 
 lectual strength would have no implements. I 
 have been rather humbled in thinking that if I 
 were thrown on an uncivilised island, and had to 
 form a literature for its inhabitants from my own 
 mental stock, how very fragmentary would be the 
 information with which I could furnish them I It 
 would be a good mode of testing one's knowledge 
 to set one's self the task of writing sketches of 
 all subjects that have entered into one's studies 
 entirely from the chronicles of memory. The 
 prevalence of misery and want in this boasted 
 nation of prosperity and glory is appalling, and 
 really seems to call us away from mental luxury. 
 Oh to be doing some little toward the regeneration
 
 18-11.] Friendship ivitJi the Brays. 69 
 
 of this groaning, travailing creation ! I am supine 
 and stupid, — overfed with favours, while the 
 haggard looks and piercing glance of want and 
 conscious hopelessness are to be seen in the streets. 
 
 Is not this a true autumn day? Just the still Letter to 
 melancholy that I love, — that makes life and J^ro^tr'^* 
 nature harmonise. The birds are consulting about ^^^' 
 their migrations, the trees are putting on the hectic 
 or the pallid hues of decay, and begin to strew the 
 ground, that one's very footsteps may not disturb 
 the repose of earth and air, while they give us a 
 scent that is a perfect anodyne to the restless 
 spirit. Delicious autumn ! My very soul is 
 wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly 
 about the earth seeking the successive autumns. 
 
 I am going, I hope, to-day to effect a breach in Letter to 
 the thick wall of indifference behind which the mno^!"^'^ 
 denizens of Coventry seem inclined to intrench 
 themselves; but I fear I shall fail. 
 
 This probably refers to the first visit paid by 
 Miss Evans to Mr. and Mrs. Bray at their 
 house. They had met in the previous May at 
 Mrs. Pears's; but although they were at once 
 mutually attracted, the acquaintance does not 
 seem to have been immediately prosecuted 
 further. Now, however, any time lost in the 
 beginning was quickly made up, and it is aston- 
 ishing how rapidly the most intimate relations 
 were formed. Mr. Bray was a ribbon-manu- 
 facturer, well-to-do at that time, and had a 
 chaiTning house, Eosehill, with a beautiful 
 lawn and garden, in the outskirts of Coventry. 
 Only a part of his time was occupied with his 
 business, and he had much leisure and oppor- 
 tunity, of which he availed himself, for liberal 
 
 1841.
 
 70 Brays Influence on Opinions, [foleshill, 
 
 self-education and culture. His was a robust, 
 self-reliant mind. Already, in 1839, he had 
 published a work on the " Education of the 
 Feelings," viewed from the phrenological stand- 
 point; and in this year, 1841, appeared his 
 most important book, " The Philosophy of 
 Necessity. " He always remained a sincere and 
 complete believer in the science of phrenology. 
 He had married Miss Caroline Hennell, sister 
 of the Mr. Charles Hennell who published in 
 1838 " An Inquiry concerning the Origin of 
 Christianity," — a remarkable book, which was 
 translated into German, Strauss contributing a 
 preface to the translation. It will be seen from 
 subsequent letters how greatly Miss Evans was 
 interested in this book, — how much she ad- 
 mired it; and the reading of it, combined with 
 the association with her new friends, — with 
 the philosophical speculations of Mr. Bray, and 
 with Mrs. Bray's sympathy in her brother's 
 critical and sceptical standpoint, — no doubt 
 hastened the change in her attitude towards 
 the dogmas of the old religion. In the Ana- 
 lytical Catalogue of Mr. Chapman's publica- 
 tions, issued in 1852, there is an analysis of 
 Hennell's " Tuquiry" done by Miss Evans, 
 whicli may lie inserted here, as giving her idea 
 of the book eleven years later : — 
 * The first edition of this work appeared in 1838, 
 when the present strong current of public opinion 
 in favour of free rnligious discussion had not yet 
 set in ; and it probably helped to generate the tone 
 of thought exhibited in more recent works of the 
 same class, to which circumstances have given a 
 wider fame, — works which, like the above, in
 
 1841.] Charles HemieU's " Inquiry." 71 
 
 considering questions of Biblical criticism and the 
 philosophy of Christianity, combiDe high refine- 
 ment, purity of aim, and candour, with the utmost 
 freedom of investigation, and with a popularity of 
 style which wins them the attention not only of 
 the learned but of the practical. 
 
 " The author opens his inquiry with a Historical 
 Sketch, extending from the Babylonish Captivity 
 to the end of the first century, the design of which 
 is to show how, abstracting the idea of the miracu- 
 lous, or any speciality of divine influence, the 
 gradual development of certain elements in Jewish 
 character, and the train of events in Jewish his- 
 tory, contributed to form a suitable nidus for the 
 production of a character and career like that of 
 Jesus, and how the devoted enthusiasm generated 
 by such a career in his immediate disciples render- 
 ing it easier for them to modify their ideas of the 
 Messiah than to renounce their belief in their 
 Master's Messiahship, — the accession of Gentile 
 converts and the destruction of the last remnant 
 of theocracy necessitating a wider interpretation of 
 Messianic hopes, — the junction of Christian ideas 
 with Alexandrian Platonism, and the decrepitude 
 of Polytheism, combined to associate the name of 
 Jesus, his Messiahship, his death and his resur- 
 rection, with a great moral and religious revolu- 
 tion. This historical sketch, which is under the 
 disadvantage of presenting, synthetically, ideas 
 based on a subsequent analysis, is intended to 
 meet the difficulty so often urged, and which 
 might be held to nullify the value of a critical in- 
 vestigation, that Christianity is a fact, for which, 
 if the supposition of a miraculous origin be re- 
 jected, no adequate and probable causes can be
 
 72 Charles Hennell's " Inquiry" [foleshill, 
 
 assigned, and that thus, however defective may be 
 the evidence of the New Testament history, its 
 acceptance is the least difficult alternative. 
 
 " In the writer's view, the characteristics of the 
 Essene sect, as traced by Josephus and Philo, 
 justify the supposition that Jesus was educated in 
 their school of philosophy ; but with the elevated 
 belief and purity of life which belonged to this 
 sect, he united the ardent patriotic ideas which 
 had previously animated Judas of Galilee, who 
 resisted the Eoman authority on the ground that 
 God was the only ruler and lord of the Jews. 
 The profound consciousness of genius, a religious 
 fervour which made the idea of the divine ever 
 present to him, patriotic zeal, and a spirit of moral 
 reform, together with a participation in the enthu- 
 siastic belief of his countrymen that the long-pre- 
 dicted exaltation of Israel was at hand, combined 
 to produce in the mind of Jesus the gradual con- 
 viction that he was himself the Messiah, with 
 whose reisn that exaltation would commence. He 
 began, as John the Baptist had already done, to 
 announce 'the kingdom of heaven,' — a phrase 
 which, to the Jewish mind, represented the national 
 glorification of Israel; and by his preaching, and 
 the influence of his powerful personality, he won 
 multitudes in Galilee to a participation in his 
 belief that he was the expected son of David. 
 His public entrance into Jerusalem in the guise 
 which tradition associated with the Messiah, when 
 he sanctioned the homage of the multitude, was 
 probably the climax of his confidence that a great 
 demonstration of divine power, in concurrence 
 with popuLir enthusiasm, would seat him trium- 
 phantly on the throne of David. No such result
 
 1841.] Charles HennelVs " Inquiry. " 73 
 
 appearing, his views of the divine dispensation 
 with respect to himself began to change, and he 
 felt the presentiment that he must enter on his 
 Messianic reign through the gates of suffering and 
 death. Viewing Jesus as a pretender not only to 
 spiritual but to political power, as one who really 
 expected the subversion of the existing govern- 
 ment to make way for his own kingship (though 
 he probably relied on divine rather than on human 
 means), he must necessarily have appeared in a 
 dangerous light to those of his countrymen who 
 were in authority, and who were anxious at any 
 price to preserve public tranquillity in the pres- 
 ence of the Eoman power, ready to visit with 
 heavy vengeance any breach of order, and to 
 deprive them of the last remnants of their inde- 
 pendence; and hence the motives for his arrest 
 and execution. To account for the belief of the 
 disciples in the resurrection of their Master, — a 
 belief which appears to have been sincere, — the 
 author thinks it necessary to suppose a certain 
 nucleus of fact, and this he finds in the disappear- 
 ance of the body of Jesus, a point attested by all 
 the four Evangelists. The secret of this disap- 
 pearance probably lay with Joseph of Arimathea 
 and Nicodemus, who were anxious to avoid im- 
 plicating themselves with that fermentation of 
 regretful enthusiasm to which a resort of the dis- 
 ciples to the grave might give rise. Animated by 
 a belief in the resurrection, — which, being more 
 harmless in the eyes of the authorities than that 
 in a living Messiah, they were permitted to preach 
 with little molestation, — the zeal of the disciples 
 won many converts ; a new impulse was given to 
 their cause by the accession of Paul, who became
 
 74 Charles HeiinelVs "Inquiry." [foleshill. 
 
 the chief missionary of the new faith, as construed 
 by himself, to the Gentiles ; and the concurrence 
 of the causes indicated above, modifying the early 
 creed of the apostles, and blending it with trains 
 of thought already prevalent, bore along Chris- 
 tianity in its conquest over the minds of men 
 until it became the dominant religion of the 
 Eoman world. 
 
 " Having sought to show, in this preliminary 
 sketch, that a belief in miracles is not entailed on 
 us by the fact of the early growth of Christianity, 
 the author enters on the inquiry whether the 
 claims of the Evangelical writers on our credence 
 are such as to sustain the miraculous part of their 
 narratives. The answer is in the negative. He 
 discusses, first, the date and credibility of each 
 Gospel, and concludes that while Matthew has 
 many marvellous stories, incongruous in them- 
 selves, and not only unsupported but contradicted 
 by the other Evangelists, he nevertheless presents 
 the most comprehensible account of the career of 
 Jesus ; that in Mark, evidently more remote in 
 time and circumstances, both from his events and 
 from Jewish modes of thought, the idea conveyed 
 of Jesus is much vaguer and less explicable ; that 
 in Luke there is a still further modification of hia 
 character, which has acquired a tinge of asceti- 
 cism ; while in John the style of his teaching ia 
 wholly changed, and instead of the graphic para- 
 ble and the pithy apothegm, he utters long mys-. 
 tical discourses in the style of the first epistle 
 bearing the name of the same Evangelist. Mr. 
 Hennell, however, adheres to the conclusion that 
 the substance of this Gospel came from the apostle 
 John at an advanced age, when both the events of
 
 1841.] Charles HennelVs" Inquiry ." 75 
 
 "his early manhood and the scenes of his native 
 land lay in the far distance. The writer then 
 enters on a special examination of the Resurrec- 
 tion and Ascension, and the other miracles in the 
 Gospels and the Acts, and inquires how far they 
 are sustained by the Apostolic Epistles. He ex- 
 amines the prophecies of the Old Testament sup- 
 posed to have been fulfilled in Jesus, and also the 
 predictions of Jesus himself concerning his death 
 and resurrection ; and finally, he considers the 
 character, views, and doctrine of Christ. Accord- 
 ing to him, an impartial study of the conduct and 
 sayings of Jesus, as exhibited in the Gospels, pro- 
 duces the conviction that he was an enthusiast and 
 a revolutionist, no less than a reformer and a moral 
 and religious teacher. Passages are adduced from 
 the Old Testament, and from the Apocryphal and 
 Eabbiuical writings, to show that there is scarcely 
 anything absolutely original in the teaching of 
 Jesus ; but, in the opinion of the author, he mani- 
 fests a freedom and individuality in the use of his 
 materials, and a general superiority of tone and 
 selection, which, united with the devotion of his 
 life to what he held the highest purpose, mark 
 him to be of an order of minds occurring but at 
 rare intervals in the history of our race. 
 
 " Shortly after the appearance of this work, it 
 was translated into German, through the instru- 
 mentality of Dr. Strauss, who, in the Preface he 
 prefixed to it, says : 'Not sufficiently acquainted 
 with German to read continuously a learned work 
 in that language, the labours of our theologians 
 were only accessible to him' (the author of the 
 'Inquiry ') 'so far as they were written in Latin, 
 or translated into English, or treated of in English
 
 76 Charles HenneU's " Inquiry." [foleshill, 
 
 writings or periodicals : especially he is unac- 
 quainted with what the Germans have effected in 
 the criticism of the Gospels since Schleiermacher's 
 work on Luke, and even the earlier commentators 
 he knows but imperfectly. Only so much the 
 more remarkable is it, however, that both in the 
 principles and in the main results of his investi- 
 gation, he is on the very track which has been 
 entered on amongst us in recent years. . . . That 
 at certain periods, certain modes of thought lie as 
 it were in the atmosphere, . . . and come to light 
 in the most remote places without perceptible 
 media of communication, is shown, not only by 
 the contents, but by the spirit, of Mr. HenneU's 
 work. No further traces of the ridicule and scorn 
 which characterise his countrymen of the Deistical 
 school ; the subject is treated in the earnest and 
 dignified tone of the truth-seeker, not with the 
 rancour of a passionate polemic ; we nowhere find 
 him deriving religion from priestcraft, but from 
 the tendencies and wants of human nature. . . . 
 These elevated views, which the learned German 
 of our day appropriates as the fruit of the religious 
 and scientific advancement of his nation, this Eng- 
 lishman, to whom most of the means at our com- 
 mand were wanting, has been able to educe entirely 
 from himself. . . . An Englishman, a merchant, 
 a man of the world, he possesses, both by nature 
 and by training, the practical insight, the sure 
 tact, which lays hold on realities. The solution 
 of problems over which the German flutters with 
 many circuits of learned formuhe, our English 
 author often succeeds in seizing at one spring. 
 ... To the learned he often presents things under 
 a surprisingly new aspect; to the unlearned, in-
 
 1841.] Religious Douhts and Dijfflculties. 11 
 
 variably under that which is the most comprehen- 
 sible and attractive. ' " 
 
 The reading of Mr. Hennell's book, which 
 followed close on the first visit to the Brays, 
 had no doubt an important influence on George 
 Eliot's development; but evidently there had 
 been a good deal of half-unconscious prepara- 
 tion beforehand (as indicated by Mrs. Cash's 
 remarks on Isaac Taylor's work in the last 
 chapter), which was greatly stimulated now by 
 the contact with new minds. ^ The following 
 extract from a letter to Miss Lewis, dated 13th 
 November, 1841, apparently fixes the date of 
 the first acknowledgment by herself that her 
 opinions were undergoing so momentous a 
 change. 
 My whole soul has been engrossed in the most ^^^^^^ 
 interesting of all inquiries for the last few days, and istu Nov. 
 to what result my thoughts may lead, I know not, — 
 possibly to one that will startle you ; but my only 
 desire is to knov/ the truth, my only fear to cling to 
 error. I venture to say our love will not decompose 
 under the influence of separation, unless you ex- 
 communicate me for differing from you in opinion. 
 Think, — is there any conceivable alteration in me 
 that would prevent your coming to me at Christ- 
 mas ? I long to have a friend such as you are, I 
 think I may say, alone to me, to unburthen every 
 thought and difficulty, — for I am still a solitary, 
 though near a city. But we have the universe to 
 talk with, infinity in which to stretch the gaze of 
 hope, and an all-bountiful, all-wise Creator in whom 
 to confide, — He who has given us the untold 
 
 1 See Appendix at end of volume.
 
 78 Father's Disapproval. [foleshill, 
 
 delights of which our reason, our emotion, our sen- 
 sations are the ever-springing sources. 
 Letter to What a pitj that while mathematics are indubi- 
 
 stbDec. ' table, immutable, and no one doubts the properties 
 ^^' of a triangle or a circle, doctrines infinitely impor- 
 
 tant to man are buried in a charnel-heap of bones 
 over which nothing is heard but the barks and 
 growls of contention ! " Unto their assembly, mine 
 honour, be not thou united." 
 
 It was impossible for such a nature as ]\Iiss 
 Evans's, in the enthusiasm of this first great 
 change, to rest satisfied in compliance with the 
 old forms, and she was so uneasy in an equiv- 
 ocal position that she determined to give up 
 going to church. This was an unforgivable 
 offence in the eyes of her father, who was a 
 churchman of the old school, and nearly led to 
 a family rupture. He went so far as to put 
 into an agent's hands the lease of the house in 
 the Foleshill Eoad, with the intention of going 
 to live with his married daughter. Upon this. 
 Miss Evans made up her mind to go into lodg- 
 ings at Leamington, and to try to support her- 
 self by teaching. The first letter to Mrs. Brav 
 refers to this incident : — 
 Letter to My guardian angel Mrs. Pears has just sent for me 
 fllim.'' to hear your kind note, which has done my acliing 
 limbs a little good. I shall be most thankful for 
 the opportunity of going to Leamington, and Mrs. 
 Pears is willing to go too. There is but one woe, 
 that of leaving my dear father, — all else, doleful 
 lodgings, scanty meals, and gazing-stochism, are 
 quite indifferent to me. Therefore do not fear for 
 me when T am once settled in my home — wherever 
 it may be — and freed from wretched suspense.
 
 1842.] Eeligious Difficulties. 79 
 
 Far from being weary of your dear little Henry, Letter to 
 his matin visits are as cheering to me as those of FrTdayTvei 
 any little bird mk 
 
 " That comes in spite of sorrow, 
 And at my window bids good-morrow." 
 
 We have not, perhaps, been so systematic as a 
 regular tutor and pupil would have been, but we 
 crave indulgence for some laxity. I was really 
 touched that you should think of me while among 
 friends more closely linked with you in every way. 
 I was beginning to get used to the conviction that, 
 ivy-like as I am by nature, I must (as we see ivy do 
 sometimes) shoot out into an isolated tree. Never 
 again imagine that you need ask forgiveness for 
 speaking or writing to me on subjects to me more 
 interesting than aught else ; on the contrary, believe 
 that I really enjoy conversation of this nature: 
 blank silence and cold reserve are the only bitters I 
 care for in my intercourse with you. I can rejoice 
 in all the joys of humanity, — in all that serves to 
 elevate and purify feeling and action ; nor will I 
 quarrel with the million who, I am persuaded, are 
 with me in intention, though our dialects differ. 
 Of course I must desire the ultimate downfall of 
 error, for no error is innocuous ; but this assuredly 
 will occur without my proselytising aid, and the 
 best proof of a real love of the truth — that freshest 
 stamp of divinity — is a calm confidence in its in- 
 trinsic power to secure its own high destiny, — that 
 of universal empire. Do not fear that I will become 
 a stagnant pool by a self-sufficient determination 
 only to listen to my own echo ; to read the yea, yea 
 on my own side, and be most comfortably deaf 
 to the nay, nay. Would that all rejected practically
 
 80 
 
 Desire for Truth. 
 
 [foleshill, 
 
 Letter to 
 Mr8. Pears, 
 Friday even- 
 ing, Feb. 
 1842. 
 
 Letter to 
 Mrs. Bray, 
 Feb. 1S42. 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Lewis, 
 19th Feb. 
 1842. 
 
 this maxim ! To fear the examination of any propo- 
 sition appears to me an intellectual and a moral 
 palsy that will ever hinder the firm grasping of 
 any substance whatever. For my part, I wish to 
 be among the ranks of that glorious crusade that is 
 seeking to set Truth's Holy Sepulchre free from a 
 usurped domination. We shall then see her resur- 
 rection ! Meanwhile, although I cannot rank among 
 my principles of action a fear of vengeance eternal, 
 gratitude for predestined salvation, or a revelation 
 of future glories as a reward, I fully participate in 
 the belief that the only heaven here, or hereafter, 
 is to be found in conformity with the will of the 
 Supreme ; a continual aiming at the attainment of 
 the perfect ideal, the true logos that dwells in the 
 bosom of the one Father. I hardly know whether 
 I am ranting after the fashion of one of the Prim- 
 itive Methodist prophetesses, with a cart for her 
 rostrum, I am writing so fast. Good-bye, and bless- 
 ings on you, as they will infallibly be on the 
 children of peace and virtue. 
 
 Asain about the same date in 1842 she writes 
 
 to Mrs. Bray : — 
 A heart full of love and gratitude to you for all 
 your kindness in thought and act to me undeserv- 
 ing. I daresay my manner belies my feelings ; but 
 friendship must live by faith and not by sight, and 
 I shall be a great gainer by leaving you to inter- 
 pret my mystic character without any other key 
 than your own goodness. 
 
 The last letter of the series to Miss Lewis 
 
 also refers to the difficulties of the situation. 
 I daresay you have added, subtracted, and divided 
 suppositions until you tliink you have a sure pro- 
 duct, — viz., a good quantum, or rather, a bad one,
 
 1842. 
 
 1842.] Phrenological Indications. 81 
 
 of indifference and forgetfulness as the representa- Letter to 
 tion of my conduct towards you. If so, revise your vlth. rtb. "' 
 arithmetic, for be it known to you that, having had 
 my propensities, sentiments, and mtellect gauged a 
 second time, I am pronounced to possess a large 
 organ of " adhesiveness," a still larger one of " firm- 
 ness," and as large of " conscientiousness," — hence 
 if I should turn out a very weather-cock and a 
 most pitiful truckler, you will have data for the 
 exercise of faith maugre common-sense, common 
 justice, and the testimony of your eyes and ears. 
 
 How do you go on for society, for communion of 
 spirit, the drop of nectar in the cup of mortals ? 
 But why do I say the drop ? The mind that feels 
 its value will get large draughts from some source, 
 if denied it in the most commonly chosen way. 
 
 'Mid the rich store of nature's gifts to mau 
 Each has his loves, close wedded to his soul 
 By fine association's golden links. 
 As the Great Spirit bids creation teem 
 With conscious being and intelligence. 
 So man, His miniature resemblance, gives 
 To matter's every form a speaking soul. 
 An emanation from his spirit's fount, 
 The impress true of its peculiar seal. 
 Here finds he thy best image, sympathy. 
 
 Beautiful ego-ism, to quote one's own. But where 
 is not this same ego ? The martyr at the stake 
 seeks its gratification as much as the court syco- 
 phant, the difference lying in the comparative dig- 
 nity and beauty of the two egos. People absurdly 
 talk of self-denial. Why, there is none in Virtue 
 to a being of moral excellence : the greatest torture 
 to such a soul would be to run counter to the dic- 
 tates of conscience ; to wallow in the slough of 
 meanness, deception, revenge, or sensuality. This 
 vol. I. — 6
 
 82 
 
 Effects of Nonconformity. 
 
 [griff, 
 
 Letter to 
 Mrs. Bray, 
 end of Feb, 
 1&12. 
 
 was Paul's idea in the 1st chap, of 2d Epistle to 
 Timothy (I think that is the passage). 
 
 I have had a weary week. At the beginning 
 more than the usual amount of cooled glances, and 
 exhortations to the suppression of self-conceit. 
 The former are so many hailstones that make me 
 wrap more closely around me the mantle of deter- 
 minate purpose ; the latter are needful, and liave a 
 tendency to exercise forbearance, that well repays 
 the temporary smart. The heart knoweth its own, 
 whether bitterness or joy : let us, dearest, beware 
 how we, even ivith good intentions^ press a finger's 
 weight on the already bruised. 
 
 And about the same date she writes to Mrs. 
 Bray : — 
 I must relieve my conscience before I go to bed by 
 entering a protest against every word or accent of 
 discontent that I uttered this morning. If I have 
 ever complained of any person or circumstance, I 
 do penance by eating my own words. When my 
 real self has regained its place, I can shake off my 
 troubles " like dewdrops from the lion's mane," and 
 then I feel the baseness of imputing my sorrows to 
 others rather than to my own pitiful weakness. 
 But I do not write for your forgiveness ; that I 
 know I have. I only want to satisfy my indigna- 
 tion against myself. 
 
 The conclusion of the matter was, that Mr. 
 Evans withdrew his house from the agent's 
 hands, and his daughter went to stay at Griff, 
 with Mr. and Mrs. Isaac Evans, whence she 
 writes the following letter to Mrs. Pears : — 
 I have just been climbing up some favourite old 
 ThumiT"' hills, or rather liillr.cks, and if I could see you I 
 March, 1842. gjiould find mysclf in high preparation for one of 
 
 Letter to
 
 1842.] Visit to Brother at Griff. 83 
 
 my thorough chats. Oh if I could transport my- Letter to 
 self to your dining-room, where I guess you and Thursday,'' 
 Mr. Pears are sittmg in anticipation of tea, carrying ^"''*'' ^^^' 
 on no " holy war," but at peace with the world and 
 its opinions, or, if ever you do battle, in the happy 
 ranks of the majority, I could kiss you into sublime 
 liberality ! How are you and your dear husband 
 and children ? It seems a week of years instead of 
 days since you said to me your kind good-bye, 
 and as I have tried your magnanimity quite long 
 enough to be assured that you will not let me hear 
 of you without a beseeching letter from me, I 
 snatch half an hour from a too short day for the 
 generous purpose of doubly qualifying myself, first 
 by pouring out the contents of my gossip-wallet, and 
 then quietly awaiting the news I want to hear of 
 you. I have here in every way abundant and un- 
 looked-for blessings, — delicacy and consideration 
 from all whom I have seen ; and I really begin to 
 recant my old belief about the indifference of all 
 the world towards me, for my acquaintances of this 
 neighbourhood seem to seek an opportunity of 
 smiling on me in spite of my heresy. All these 
 things, however, are but the fringe and ribbons of 
 happiness. They are adherent not mherent, and 
 without any affectation I feel myself to be acquir- 
 ing what I must hold to be a precious possession, 
 an independence of what is baptised by the world 
 external good. There are externals (at least, they 
 are such in common thought) that I could ill part 
 with, — the deep, blue, glorious heavens, bending as 
 they do over all, presenting the same arch, emblem 
 of a truer omnipresence, wherever we may be 
 chased, and all the sweet peace-breathing sights 
 and sounds of this lovely earth. These, and the
 
 84 Regrets her Impetuosity. [grifp, 
 
 Letter to tlioughts of the good and great, are an inexhaus- 
 
 Thuraday?' tible world of delight; and the felt desire to be 
 
 arch, 1842. ^^^ ^^ ^^^j ^^^ desigu witli the great mind that 
 
 has laid open to us these treasures is the sun that 
 warms and fructifies it. I am more and more im- 
 pressed with the duty of finding happiness. On a 
 retrospection of the past month, I regret nothing so 
 much as my own impetuosity both of feeling and 
 judging. I am not inclined to be sanguine as to 
 my dear father's future determination, and I some- 
 times have an intensely vivid consciousness, which 
 I only allow to be a fleeting one, of all that is pain- 
 ful and that has been so. I can only learn that my 
 father has commenced his alterations at Packing- 
 ton, but he only appears to be temporarily acquies- 
 cing in my brother's advice " not to be in a hurry." 
 I do not intend to remain here longer than three 
 weeks, or, at the very farthest, a month ; and if I am 
 not then recalled, I shall write for definite direc- 
 tions. I must have a home, not a visiting place. I 
 wish you would learn something from my father, 
 and send me word how he seems disposed. T hope 
 you get long walks on these beautiful days. You 
 would love to hear the choristers we have here ; 
 they are hymning away incessantly. Can you not 
 drive over and see me ? Do come by hook or by 
 crook. Why, Mr. Pears could almost walk hither. 
 I am becoming very hurried, for most welcome tea 
 is in the vicinity, and I must be busy after I have 
 imbibed its inspiration. You will write to me to- 
 morrow, will you not ? and pray insist on Mr. 
 Pears writing an appendix. I had a note from 
 Mrs. Bray this morning, and I liked it better than 
 my breakfast. So do give me a little treat on Sat- 
 urday. Blessings on you and yours, as all forlorn
 
 1842.] Meets Miss Sara Hennell. 85 
 
 beggars have said from time immemorial to their 
 benefactors ; but real feeling, you know, will some- 
 times slip into a hackneyed guise. 
 
 Miss Evans remained for about three weeks 
 at Griff, at the end of which time, through the 
 intervention of her brother, the Brays, and Miss 
 Eebecca Franklin, the father was very glad to 
 receive her again, and she resumed going to 
 church as before. 
 
 It will be seen from a subsequent noteworthy 
 letter to Miss Sara Hennell, dated 19th October, 
 1843, that Miss Evans's view of the best course 
 to be pursued under similar circumstances had 
 already undergone considerable modifications, 
 and in the last year of her life she told me that, 
 although she did not think she had been to 
 blame, few things had occasioned her more 
 regret than this temporary collision with her 
 father, which might, she thought, have been 
 avoided by a little management. 
 
 In July of this year (1842) Miss Sara Hen- 
 nell — the gifted sister of Mrs. Bray — came to 
 Eosehill, on one of her occasional visits to Cov- 
 entry, and completed the trio destined to exert 
 the most important influence over the life of 
 George Eliot. The individual characters of 
 these three friends, and the relations each bore 
 to their correspondent, will unfold themselves 
 in the letters. It is only necessary here to say 
 that the two ladies — Cara and Sara, as they 
 are always addressed — now became like sisters 
 to Miss Evans, and Mr. Bray her most intimate 
 male friend, and the letters to them form an 
 almost unbroken chain during all the remainder 
 of George Eliot's life.
 
 86 
 
 Intimacy with Miss Hennell. [foleshill, 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Hennell, 
 30th Aug. 
 1842. 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Hennell, 
 Friday, 
 Sept. 1842. 
 
 To us Miss Sara Hennell is the most impor- 
 tant correspondent, for it is to her that Miss 
 Evans mainly turns now for intellectual sym- 
 pathy ; to Mrs. Bray when she is in pain or 
 trouble, and wants affectionate companionship : 
 with Mr. Bray she quarrels, and the humorous 
 side of her nature is brought out. Every good 
 story goes to him, with a certainty that it will 
 be appreciated. With all three it is a beautiful 
 and consistent friendship, running like a thread 
 through the woof of the coming thirty-eight 
 years. For the next twelve years, as will be 
 seen, it is quite the most important thread ; and 
 although later it naturally became very much 
 less important, it was never dropped except for 
 a moment in 1854, owing to a brief misunder- 
 standing of letters, which will appear in its due 
 place. 
 
 The following letters to Miss Sara Hennell 
 
 show what was passing from 30th Avigust, 1842, 
 
 to April, 1843 : — 
 
 How I have delighted in the thought that there are 
 
 beings who are better than their promises beyond 
 
 the regions of waking and sleeping dreams. 
 
 I liave not yet accounted for my tardiness in 
 writing, whicli, I assure you, is no representation 
 of my usual habit, and has been occasioned only 
 by a week's indisposition, the foster-parent to the 
 ill-favoured offspring of my character and circum- 
 stances, gloom and stolidity, and I could not write 
 to you with such companions to my thought. I 
 am anxious that you should not imagine me un- 
 happy even in my most melancholy moods, for I 
 hol(l all indulgence of sadness that has the slightest 
 tincture of discontent to be a grave delinquency. I
 
 1842.] Miss Mary Henneirs Illness. 87 
 
 think there can be few who more truly feel than Letter to 
 I that this is a world of bliss and beauty, — that is, Hlnneur 
 that bliss and beauty are the end, the tendency of septr^842. 
 creation ; and evils are the shadows that are the 
 only conditions of light in the picture, and I live 
 in much, much enjoyment. 
 
 I am beginning to enjoy the " Eneid," though, I 
 suppose, much in the same way as the uninitiated 
 enjoy wine compared with the connoisseurs. 
 
 I have been in high displeasure with myself, have Letter to 
 thought my soul only fit for limbo to keep company Henneur 
 with other abortions, and my life the shallowest, \l^2°^' 
 muddiest, most unblessing stream. Having got my 
 head above this slough of despond, I feel quite 
 inclined to tell you how much pleasure your letter 
 gave me. You observe in your note that some 
 persons say the unsatisfied longing we feel in our- 
 selves for something better than the greatest per- 
 fection to be found on earth is a proof that the true 
 object of our desires lies beyond it. Assuredly this 
 earth is not the home of the spirit — it will rest 
 only in the bosom of the Infinite. But the non- 
 satisfaction of the affections and intellect being in- 
 separable from the unspeakable advantage of such 
 a mind as that of man in connection with his 
 corporal condition and terrene destiny, forms not 
 at present an argument with me for the realisation 
 of particular desires. 
 
 The next letter refers to Miss Mary Hen- 
 nell's ^ last illness. 
 I cannot help wishing to tell you, now that you Letter to 
 are in trouble and anxiety, how dear you are to He^eu^* 
 
 1 Miss Mary Hennell was the author of "An Outline of the 
 Various Social Systems founded on the Principle of Co-operation," 
 published in 1841, • 
 
 7th Jan. 
 1843.
 
 88 
 
 Excursions with Bi'ays. [foleshill, 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Hennell, 
 7th Jan. 
 1843. 
 
 Letter to 
 Jliss Sara 
 Hennell, 
 April, 1843. 
 
 me, and how the recollection of you is ever freshen- 
 ing in my mind. You have need of all your cheeri- 
 ness and energy ; and if they do not fail, I think it 
 almost enviable, as far as one's self is concerned 
 (not, of course, when the sufferer is remembered), 
 to have the care of a sick-room, with its twilight 
 and tiptoe stillness, and helpful activity. I have 
 always had a peculiarly peaceful feeling in such 
 a scene. 
 
 Again, after the death of Miss Mary Hennell, 
 there is a letter to her sister Sara. 
 We always find that our stock of appreciated good 
 can never be really diminished. AVhen the chief 
 desire of the eyes is taken, we can afford a gaze to 
 hitherto unnoticed possessions ; and even when the 
 topmost boughs are lopped, a thousand shoots spring 
 from below with the energy of new life. So it will 
 be with you ; but you cannot yet look beyond the 
 present, nor is it desirable that you should. It 
 would not be well for us to overleap one grade of 
 joy or suffering : our life would lose its complete- 
 ness and beauty. 
 
 Eosehill not only afforded a pleasant variety 
 in the Coventry life, as most visitors to the 
 town of any note found their way there, but the 
 Brays were also frequently in the habit of making 
 little holiday excursions, in many of which Miss 
 Evans now joined. Thus we find them in May, 
 1843, all going to Stratford and Malvern, to- 
 gether with Mr. Charles Hennell and Miss Sara 
 Hennell, for a week ; and again in July of that 
 year the same party, accompanied by Miss 
 Brabant, daughter of Dr. Brabant of Devizes, 
 went on a fortnight's tour, visiting Tenby 
 amongst other places. This trip is chiefly
 
 1843.] Charles HenneWs Marriage. 89 
 
 memorable from the fact that it was indu-ectly 
 responsible for Miss Evans undertaking the 
 translation of Strauss's " Leben Jesu." For Miss 
 Brabant (to whom the translation had been con- 
 fided by Mr, Joseph Parkes of Bii"mingham and 
 a group of friends) became engaged to be mar- 
 ried to Mr. Charles Hennell ; and shortly after 
 her marriage she handed the work over to Miss 
 Evans. 
 
 In the next two letters to Miss Sara Hennell 
 there are allusions to the approaching marriage, 
 which took place in London on 1st November, 
 1843, — the Brays and Miss Evans being present. 
 Many thanks for procuring me the hymns and an- Letter to 
 thems. I was right glad to play " Ancient of Ages " Heunefr 
 again, and I shall like still better to sing it with Jg^s.^"^*" 
 you when we meet. That that is to be so soon, and 
 under circumstances so joyful, are among the mira- 
 hilia of this changing world. To see and re-see 
 such a cluster of not indifferent persons as the pro- 
 gramme for the wedding gives, will be almost too 
 large a bonne houche. 
 
 I saw Eobert Owen yesterday, Mr. and Mrs. 
 Bray ha^^[ng kindly asked me to dine with him, 
 and I think if his system prosper it will be in spite 
 of its founder, and not because of his advocacy. 
 
 The next letter to Mrs. Bray gives a pleasant 
 glimpse of their studies together, and of the little 
 musical society that was in the habit of meeting 
 at Eosehill to play concerted pieces. 
 I only wish you would change houses with the Letter to 
 mayor, that I might get to you when I would. I no^date?^' 
 send you the first part of " Wallenstein," with the ""' 
 proposition that we should study that in conjunction 
 with the " Thirty Years' War " as I happen to have 
 
 1843
 
 1S43, 
 
 90 Reading with Mrs. Bray, [folsshill, 
 
 Letter to a loose copy. We had better omit the " Lager," and 
 no"date?^' begin " Die Piccolomini." You shall have " Joan of 
 Arc," my grand favourite, as a 'bonne houche when 
 you have got through " Wallenstein " which will 
 amply repay you for any trouble in translating it, 
 and is not more difficult than your reading ought 
 to be now. I have skimmed Manzoni, who has 
 suffered sadly in being poured out of silver into 
 pewter. The chapter on Philosophy and Theology 
 is worth reading. Miss Brabant sent me my 
 Hyperion with a note the other day. She had put 
 no direction besides Coventry, and the parcel had 
 consequently been sent to some other Miss Evans, 
 and my choice little sentimental treasures, alas ! 
 exposed to vulgar gaze. Thank you for the manual, 
 which I have had so long. I trust I did not bestow 
 those scratches on the cover. I have been trying 
 to find a French book that you were not likely to 
 have read, but I do not think I have one, unless it 
 be " Gil Bias," which you are perhaps too virtuous 
 to have read, though how any one can opine it to 
 have a vicious tendency I am at a loss to conjecture. 
 They might as well say that to condemn a person 
 to eat a whole plum-pudding would deprive him of 
 all future relish for plain food. I have had a visitor 
 ever since Saturday, and she will stay till Saturday 
 again. I cannot desire that you should W7iask 
 Violin and Flute, unless a postponement would be 
 in every way as agreeable to you and them. If you 
 have them, you will give them much more pleasure 
 as Piano than I, so do not think of me in the 
 matter for a moment. Good-bye ; and remember to 
 treat your cold as if it were an orphan's cold, or a 
 widow's cold, or any one's cold but your own. 
 
 The foUowimr is the letter liefore referred
 
 1843.] TriUh of FediiKj. 91 
 
 to as containing an important and noteworthy 
 declaration of opinion on the very interesting 
 qnestion of conformity : — 
 The first thing I have to say to you is to entreat Letter to 
 that you and Mrs. Hennell will not perplex your- Henneii, 
 selves for a moment about my accommodation dur- 1.^3. 
 ing the night. I am so well now that a hearthrug 
 would be as luxurious a couch as I should need, 
 and I defy anything short of a kettledrum or my 
 conscience to keep me awake after a long day. 
 
 The subject of your conversation with Miss D. is 
 a very important one, and worth an essay. I will 
 not now inflict one of mine on you, but I will tell 
 you, as briefly as possible, my present opinion, 
 which you know is contrary to the one I held in 
 the first instance. I am inclined to think that such 
 a change of sentiment is likely to happen to most 
 persons whose views on religious matters undergo a 
 change early in life. The first impulse of a young 
 and ingenuous mind is to withhold the slightest 
 sanction from all that contains even a mixture of 
 supposed error. When the soul is just liberated 
 from the wretched giant's bed of dogmas on which 
 it has been racked and stretched ever since it began 
 to think, there is a feeling of exultation and strong 
 hope. We think we shall run well when we have 
 the full use of our limbs and the bracing air of 
 independence, and we believe that we shall soon 
 obtain something positive which will not only more 
 than compensate us for what we have renounced, 
 but will be so well worth offering to others that we 
 may venture to proselytise as fast as our zeal for truth 
 may prompt us. But a year or two of reflection, 
 and the experience of our own miserable weakness, 
 which will ill afford to part even with the crutch of
 
 92 Quackery of Infidelity. [foleshill, 
 
 Letter to siiperstition, must, I think, effect a change. Specu- 
 Hemien'i^ latlvc ti'uth bcglns to appear but a shadow of indi- 
 19th Oct. vidual minds. Agreement between intellects seems 
 unattainable, and we turn to the truth of feeling as 
 the only universal bond of union. We find that 
 the intellectual errors which we once fancied were 
 a mere incrustation have grown into the living 
 body, and that we cannot in the majority of cases 
 wrench them away without destroymg vitality. 
 "We begin to find tliat with individuals, as with 
 nations, the only safe revolution is one arising out 
 of the wants which their own progress has gen- 
 erated. It is the quackery of infidelity to suppose 
 that it has a nostrum for all mankind, and to say to 
 all and singular, " Swallow my opinions and you 
 shall be whole." If, then, we are debarred by such 
 considerations from trying to reorganise opinions, 
 are we to remain aloof from our fellow-creatures on 
 occasions when we may fully sympathise with the 
 feelings exercised, although our own have been 
 melted into another mould ? Ought we not on 
 every opportunity to seek to have our feelings in 
 harmony, though not in union, with those who are 
 often richer in the fruits of faith, though not in 
 reason, than ourselves ? The results of nonconfor- 
 mity in a family are just an epitome of what hap- 
 pens on a larger scale in the world. An influential 
 member chooses to omit an observance which, in 
 the minds of all the rest, is associated with what is 
 ' highest and most venerable. He cannot make his 
 
 reasons intelligible, and so his conduct is regarded 
 as a relaxation of the hold that moral ties had on 
 him previously. The rest are infected with the 
 disease they imagine in him. All the screws by 
 which order was maintained are loosened, and in
 
 1843. j Dangers of Nonconformity. 93 
 
 more than one case a person's happiness may be Letter to 
 ruined by the confusion of ideas wliich took the Henneur 
 form of principles. But, it may be said, how then istt.^*^*' 
 are we to do anything towards the advancement of 
 mankind? Are we to go on cherishing superstitions 
 out of a fear that seems inconsistent with any faith 
 in a Supreme Being ? I think the best and the 
 only way of fulfilling our mission is to sow good 
 seed in good {i. e., prepared) ground, and not to root 
 up tares where we must inevitably gather all the 
 wheat with them. We cannot flight and struggle 
 enough for freedom of inquiry, and we need not 
 be idle in impartmg all that is pure and lovely to 
 children whose minds are unbespoken. Those who 
 can write, let them do it as boldly as they like, — = 
 and let no one hesitate at proper seasons to make 
 a full c6»?i-fession (far better than profession). St. 
 Paul's reasoning about the conduct of the strong 
 towards the weak, in the 14th and 15th chapters of 
 Eomans, is just in point. But I have not said half 
 what I meant to say. There are so many aspects 
 in which the subject might be presented, that it is 
 useless to attempt to exhaust it. I fear I have 
 written very unintelligibly, for it is rather late, 
 and I am so cold that my thoughts are almost 
 frozen. 
 
 After Miss Brabant's marriage to Mr. Charles 
 Hennell, Miss Evans went to stay for a week or 
 two with Dr. Brabant at Devizes, and some time 
 about the beginning of January, 1844, the propo- 
 sition was made for the transfer of the transla- 
 tion of Strauss from Mrs. Charles Hennell. At 
 the end of April, 1844, Mrs. Bray writes to Miss 
 Sara Hennell that Miss Evans is "working away 
 at Strauss six pages a-day," and the next letter
 
 94 
 
 Child's Heal Fcelmgs. [folesuill, 
 
 Letter to 
 
 Miss Sara 
 Heniiell, 
 Sunday. 
 May, l&H. 
 
 from Miss Evans refers to the beginning of the 
 
 undertaking. 
 To begin with business, I send you on the other 
 side the translations you wished (Strauss), but they 
 are perhaps no improvements on what you had 
 done. I shall be very glad to learn from you the 
 particulars as to the mode of publication, — who are 
 the parties that will find the funds, and whether 
 the manuscripts are to be put into the hands of 
 any one when complete, or whether they are to go 
 directly from me to the publishers ? I was very 
 foolish not to imagine about these things in the 
 first instance, but ways and means are always after- 
 thoughts with me. 
 
 You will soon be settled and enjoying the blessed 
 spring and summer time, I hope you are looking 
 forward to it with as much delight as I. One has 
 to spend so many years in learning how to be 
 happy. I am just beginning to make some pro- 
 gress in the science, and I hope to disprove Young's 
 theory that " as soon as we have found the key of 
 life, it opes the gates of death." Every year strips 
 us of at least one vain expectation, and teaches us 
 to reckon some solid good in its stead. I never will 
 believe tliat our youngest days are our happiest. 
 What a miserable augury for the progress of the 
 race and the destination of the individual, if the 
 more matured and enlightened state is the less 
 happy one! Childhood is only the beautiful and 
 happy time in contemplation and retrospect ; to 
 the child it is full of deep sorrows, the meaning of 
 which is unknown. Witness colic and whooping- 
 cough and dread of ghosts, to say nothing of hell 
 and Satan, and an offended Deity in the sky, who 
 was angry wlien T wanted too much plum-cake.
 
 .1844.J 
 
 Strauss Translation. 
 
 95 
 
 Then the sorrows of older persons, which children 
 see but cannot understand, are worse than all. All 
 this to prove that we are happier than when we 
 were seven years old, and that we shall be happier 
 when we are forty than we are now, which I call 
 a comfortable doctrine, and one worth trying to 
 believe ! I am sitting with father, who every now 
 and then jerks off' my attention to the history of 
 Queen Elizabeth, which he is reading. 
 
 On the 1st July, 1844, there was another 
 little trip with the Brays to the Cumberland 
 Lakes, this time returning by Manchester and 
 Liverpool, and on reaching home about the 
 beginning of August there is the following 
 letter : — 
 Can I have the remaining volumes of Strauss, ex- 
 cepting any part that you may choose to keep for 
 your own use ? If you could also send me such 
 parts of the introduction and first section as you 
 wish me to look over, I should like to despatch that 
 business at intervals, when I am not inspired for 
 more thorough labour. Thank you for the encour- 
 agement you send me. I only need it when my 
 head is weak and I am unable to do much. Then 
 I sicken at the idea of having Strauss in my head 
 and on my hands for a lustrum, instead of saying 
 good-bye to him in a year. When I can work fast 
 I am never weary, nor do I regret either that the 
 work has been begun or that I have undertaken it. 
 I am only inclined to vow that I will never trans- 
 late again, if I live to correct the sheets for Strauss. 
 My first page is 257. 
 
 Pray tell Mrs. C. Hennell that no apology was 
 needed for the very good translation she has sent 
 me. I shall be glad to avail myself of it to the 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Heimell, 
 Sunday, 
 May, 1844. 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Heimell, 
 Friday, 
 Aug. 1844. 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Hennell, 
 31st Oct. 
 1844.
 
 96 
 
 Strauss Translation. [folesuill, 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Heunell, 
 31st Oct. 
 
 Letter to 
 Mrs. Bray, 
 end of 1844. 
 
 Lotter to 
 Mrs. Bray, 
 Sunday, 
 beginning 
 •f 1845. 
 
 last word, for I am thoroughly tired of my own 
 garb for Strauss's thoughts. I hope the introduc- 
 tion, &c., will be ready by the end of November, 
 when I hope to have put the last words to the first 
 volume. I am awfully afraid of my own transla- 
 tion, and I want you to come and comfort me. I 
 am relapsing into heathen darkness about everything 
 but Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. " Heaven has 
 sent leanness into my soul " — for reviling them, I 
 suppose. This lovely autumn ! Have you enjoyed 
 its long shadows and fresh breezes ? 
 
 I do not think it was kind to Strauss (I knew he 
 was handsome) to tell him that a young lady M'as 
 translating his book. I am sure he must have 
 some twinges of alarm to think he was dependent 
 on that most contemptible specimen of the human 
 being for his English reputation. By the way, I 
 never said that the Canons of the Council of Nice, 
 or the Confession of Augsburg, or even the Thirty- 
 nine Articles, are suggestive of poetrj^ I imagine 
 no dogmas can be. But surely Christianity, with 
 its Hebrew retrospect and millennial hopes, the 
 heroism and divine sorrow of its founder, and all 
 its glorious army of martyrs, might supply and has 
 supplied a strong impulse not only to poetry but to 
 all the Fine Arts. Mr. Pears is coming home from 
 Malvern to-night, and the children are coming to 
 tea with me, so that I have to make haste with my 
 afternoon matters. Beautiful little Susan has been 
 blowing bubbles, and looking like an angel at sport. 
 I am quite happy, only sometimes feeling " the 
 weight of all this unintellio-ible world." 
 
 Your books are come for the school, and I have 
 co\ered them, — at least those that I think you will 
 like for the children ; two or three are quite for
 
 1845.] Harriet Martimau. 97 
 
 grown-up people. What an exquisite little thing that Letter to 
 is of Harriet Martineau's, — " The Crofton Boys " ! s^uud;^?^' 
 I have had some delightful crying over it. There isT'^"^'*^ 
 are two or three lines in it that would feed one's 
 soul for a month. Hugh's mother says to him, 
 speaking of people who have permanent sorrow, 
 " They soon had a new and delicious pleasure, which 
 none but the bitterly disappointed can feel, — the 
 pleasure of rousing their souls to bear pain, and of 
 agreeing with God silently, when nobody knows what 
 is in their hearts." I received " Sybil " yesterday 
 quite safely, I am not utterly disgusted with 
 D'Israeli. The man hath good veins, as Bacon 
 would say, but there is not enough blood in them. 
 The 17th April this year was an interesting 
 day, as Miss Evans went with the Brays to 
 Atherstone Hall and met Harriet Martineau for 
 the first time. It will be seen that in later 
 years there was considerable intimacy between 
 them. 
 If you think any of my future manuscript too Letter to 
 untidy for the printer, only mark it to that effect, Heimei'r 
 and I will rewrite it, for I do not mind that me- is45.^^'^'^ 
 chanical work ; and my conscience is rather uneasy 
 lest the illegibility of my hand should increase 
 materially the expense of the publication. Do not 
 be alarmed because I am not well just now ; I shall 
 be better very soon, and I am not really disgusted 
 with Strauss. I only fancy so sometimes, as I do 
 with all earthly things. 
 
 In June Mrs. Bray writes to Miss Hennell that 
 Miss Evans " looks all the better for her Lon- 
 don trip. I never saw her so blooming and 
 buoyant ; " but the two next letters show a 
 relapse. 
 
 VOL. I. — 7
 
 98 Delay in Publication of Strauss, [foleshill, 
 
 Letter to Glad am I that some one can enjoy Strauss ! The 
 Henneur million Certainly will not, and I have ceased to sit 
 (?fm5.""^' down to him with any relish. I should work much 
 Letter if I had some proof-sheets coming in to assure 
 me that my soul-stupefying labour is not in vain. 
 I am more grateful to you than I can tell you for 
 taking the trouble you do. If it had not been for 
 your interest and encouragement, I should have 
 been almost in despair by this time. 
 
 And agjain a little later : — 
 I begin utterly to despair that Strauss will ever be 
 published, unless I can imitate the Rev. Mr. Davis, 
 and print it myself. At the very best, if we go on 
 according to the rate of procedure hitherto, the book 
 will not be published within the next two years. 
 This seems dolorous enough to me, whose only real 
 satisfaction just now is some hope that I am not 
 sowing the wind. It is very laughable that I should 
 be irritated about a thing in itself so trifling as a 
 translation, but it is the very triviality of the thing 
 that makes delays provoking. The difficulties that 
 attend a really grand undertaking are to be borne, 
 but things should run smoothly and fast when they 
 are not important enough to demand the sacrifice of 
 one's whole soul. The second volume is quite ready. 
 The last few sections were written under anything 
 but favourable circumstances. They are not Strauss's 
 best thoughts, nor are they put into his translator's 
 best language, but I have not courage to imitate 
 Gibbon, — put my work in the fire and begin again. 
 In July, 1845, there seems to have arisen 
 some difficulty in getting in the cash subscrip- 
 tions for the publication. Mr. Charles Hennell 
 and Mr. Joseph Parkes, however, exerted them- 
 selves in the matter, and £300 was collected,
 
 1845.] Strauss Translation Printing. 99 
 
 and the following letter shows the relief it was 
 
 to Miss Evans : — 
 Thank you for sending me the good news so soon, Letter to 
 and for sympathising in my need of encouragement, uenneii. 
 I have all I want now, and shall go forward on buoy- rvlniug," 
 ant wing. I am glad for the work's sake, glad for ''"'y' ^'^'^ 
 your sake, and glad for "the honourable gentle- 
 man's " sake, that matters have turned out so well. 
 Pray think no more of my pens, ink, and paper. I 
 would gladly give much more towards the work 
 than these and my English, if I could do so con- 
 sistently with duty. 
 
 The book now got into the hands of the 
 
 printers, as will be seen from the next letter : — 
 I have just been looking over some of the revise, Letter to 
 and reading again your sweet letter to me from He'meur 
 Hastings, and an impulse of gratitude and love will "^"k- i845. 
 not let me rest without writing you a little note, 
 though my hand has almost done its possible for the 
 day under this intense heat. You do not guess how 
 much pleasure it gives me to look over your pencil- 
 lings, — they prove so clearly that you have really 
 entered into the meaning of every sentence, and it 
 always gives one satisfaction to see the evidence of 
 brain-work. I am quite indebted to you for your 
 care, and I feel greatly the advantage of having a 
 friend to undertake the office of critic. There is one 
 word I must mention, — Azazel is the word put in 
 the original of the Old Testament for the scape- 
 goat : now I imagine there is some dubiousness 
 about the meaning, and that Strauss would not 
 think it right to translate scape-goat, because, from 
 the tenor of his sentence, he appears to include 
 Azazel with the evil demons. I wonder if it be 
 supposed by any one that Azazel is in any way a
 
 100 
 
 Strauss "Proofs' 
 
 [foleshill, 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Hermell, 
 Aug. 1845. 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Hennell, 
 Friday even- 
 ing, autumn 
 of 1845. 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Hennell, no 
 (late, 1845. 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Hennell, 
 25th Sept. 
 1845. 
 
 distinct being from the goat. I know no Hebrew 
 scholar, and have access to no Hebrew lexicon. 
 Have you asked Mr. Hennell about it ? 
 
 Your letter describes what I have felt rather than 
 what I feel. It seems as if my affections were 
 quietly sinking down to temperate, and I every day 
 seem more and more to value thought rather than 
 feelingf. I do not think this is man's best estate, 
 but it is better than what I have sometimes known. 
 
 I am not ashamed to confess that I should like 
 to be idle with you for a little while, more than 
 anything else I can think of just now. But alas ! 
 leathery brain must work at leathery Strauss for a 
 short time before my butterfly days come. Oh, how 
 I shall spread my wings then ! Anent the Greek, it 
 would produce very dreadful cold perspirations in- 
 deed in me, if there were anything amounting to a 
 serious error ; but this, I trust, there will not be. 
 You must really expect me, if not to sleep and snore 
 aliquando, at least to nod in the course of some 
 thousand pages. I should like you to be deliberate 
 over the Schluss Abhandlung. It is the only part 
 on which I have bestowed much pains, for the dif- 
 ficulty was piquing, not piquant. 
 
 I am never pained when I think Strauss right, — 
 but in many cases I think him wrong, as every man 
 must be in working out into detail an idea which 
 has general truth, but is only one element in a per- 
 fect theory, — not a perfect theory in itself. 
 
 I am delighted with the proof. The type and 
 everything else are just what I wished. To see 
 the first sheet is the next best thing to seeing the 
 last, which I hope we shall all have done this time 
 next year. There is a very misty vision of a trip 
 to the Highlands haunting us in this quarter. The
 
 1845.] Trip to Scotland. 101 
 
 vision would be much pleasanter if Sara were one Letter to 
 of the images in it. You would surely go if we Heunen? 
 went, and then the thing would be perfect. I long is^.^"^-" 
 to see you, for you are becoming a sort of trans- 
 figured existence, a mere ideal to me, and I have 
 nothing to tell me of your real flesh-and-blood self 
 but sundry very useful little pencil marks, and a 
 scrap of Mrs. Bray's notes now and then. So if you 
 would have me bear in my memory your own self, 
 and not some aerial creation that I call by your 
 name, you must make your appearance. 
 
 In October " the misty vision " took palpable 
 shape, and the Brays, Miss Hennell, and Miss 
 Evans had a delightful fortnight in Scotland, — 
 visiting Loch Lomond and Loch Katrine, the 
 Trossachs, StirHng, Edinburgh, Melrose, and 
 Abbotsford. They were away from the 14th to 
 the 28th, and on returning to Coventry, Strauss 
 was taken up again. Miss Hennell was reading 
 the translation, and aiding with suggestions and 
 corrections. The next letter to her seems to be 
 dated in November. 
 Please to tell Mr. Hennell that "habits of thought " Letter to 
 is not a translation of the word partindarismus. Hennen,* 
 This does not mean national idiosyncrasy, but is a ^°^" ^^^^' 
 word which characterises that idiosyncrasy. If he 
 decidedly objects to i^articularism, ask him to be so 
 good as substitute exdusivencss, though there is a 
 shade of meaning in particularismus which even 
 that does not express. It was because the word 
 could only be translated by a circumlocution that 
 I ventured to anglicise it. 
 
 I have been idle, and have not done a stroke to Letter to 
 the prefaces, but they shall be sent as soon as pos- Henneii, 
 sible. Thanks for the copy of the Latin preface morning, 
 
 Dec.(?)lS45.
 
 102 Title of Translation. [foleshill, 
 
 Letter to and letter. They are in preconceived harmony 
 
 Miss Sara ■,-, • -• n ^.^ • j. 
 
 Henueii, With my idcRS 01 the appropriate. 
 
 morSng, I will Icave the titlepage to you and Mr. Hennell. 
 
 Dec.(?)i845. T^^uks for the news in your last extra Blatt. I 
 am glad to find that the theological organs are 
 beginning to deal with philosophy, but I can hardly 
 imagine your writer to be a friend with a false cog- 
 nisance on his shield. These dear orthodox people 
 talk so simply sometimes, that one cannot help 
 fancying them satirists of their own doctrines and 
 fears, though they mean manfully to fight against 
 the enemy. I should like if possible to throw the 
 emphasis on critically in the titlepage. Strauss 
 means it to be so ; and yet I do not know how we 
 can put anything better than what you say. 
 
 Letter to I seud you to-day the conclusion of the chapter 
 
 Miss Sara t , t r> t , i • <• 
 
 Heuneii, you are reading, and, unless you find anything or 
 importance to be rectified, you need not return this 
 to me, but may forward the whole to the printer 
 as soon as you have read it. I am not altogether 
 satisfied with the use of the word " sacrament " as 
 applied specifically to the AhendmaM. It seems 
 like a vulgarism to say the sacrament for one thing, 
 and for another it does not seem a&original enougli 
 in the life of Jesus ; but I know of no other word 
 tliat can be substituted. I have altered passover 
 to paschal meal, Ijut to irda-'x^a is used in the New 
 Testament of the eating of the lamb par excellence. 
 You rememl:)er in the title of the first section in the 
 Schluss — which I had been so careless as to omit 
 — the expression is " Nothwendiger Uebergang der 
 Kritik in das Dogma." Now Dogmatism will not 
 do, as that would represent Dogmatismua. " Dog- 
 matik " is the idea, I believe, — i. e., positive theology. 
 Is it allowable to say dogmatics, think you ? I do
 
 1846.] Translator's Difficulties. 103 
 
 not understand how the want of MS. can be so 
 pressing, as I have only had one proof for the last 
 fortnight. It seems quite dispiriting to me now 
 not to see the proofs regularly. I have had a mis- 
 erable week of headache, but am better now, and 
 ready for work, to which I must go. 
 
 I do pity you with the drunken Christmas work- Letter to 
 men keeping you in this uncomfortable interregnum. Heuneu^ist 
 But do not go distraught ; the spring will really come, "'*"■ ^^^' 
 and the birds, — many having had to fly across the 
 Atlantic, which is farther than you have to go to 
 establish yourself. I could easily give the meaning 
 of the Hebrew word in question, as I know where 
 to borrow a lexicon. But observe there are two 
 Hebrew words untranslated in this proof. I do not 
 think it will do to give the English in one place and 
 not in another where there is no reason for such a 
 distinction, — and there is not here, for the note in 
 this proof sounds just as fee-fo-fum-ish as the other 
 without any translation. I could not alter the 
 " troublesome,'* because it is the nearest usable adjec- 
 tive for schiuierig, which stands in the German. I 
 am tired of inevitable importants, and cannot bear 
 to put them when they do not represent the German. 
 
 I have been sadly occupied for the last ten days. Letter to 
 My father has been ill, and has required much atten- Hennen? 
 tion, and my own head was very middling for some 
 days, so that I send you but a poor cargo of new MS. 
 Indeed, on looking through the last quire of paper 
 this morning for the purpose of putting in the Greek, 
 it seemed all very poor to me ; but the subject is by 
 no means inspiring, and no muse would condescend 
 to visit such an uncertain votary as I have been for 
 the last week or so. How is it that I have only had 
 one proof this week ? You know we are five hundred 
 
 2Gth Jan. 
 184G.
 
 104 Strauss-sick. [foleshill, 
 
 pages in advance of the printer, so you need not be 
 dreadfully alarmed. I have been so pleased to hear 
 some of your letters read to me, but, alas ! I can 
 reflect no pleasure at this moment, for I have a 
 woful pain and am in a desperate hurry. 
 
 On 14th February, 1846, Mrs. Bray writes to 
 Miss Sara Hennell that Miss Evans " says she is 
 Strauss-sick, — it makes her ill dissecting the 
 beautiful story of the Crucifixion, and only the 
 sight of the Christ image ^ and picture make her 
 endure it. Moreover, as her work advances 
 nearer its public appearance, she grows dreadfully 
 nervous. Poor thing, I do pity her sometimes, 
 with her pale sickly face and dreadful headaches, 
 and anxiety too about her father. This illness 
 of his has tried her so much, for all the time she 
 had for rest and fresh air she had to read to him. 
 Nevertheless she looks very happy and satisfied 
 sometimes in her work." 
 
 And about the end of February there is the 
 following letter from Miss Evans : — 
 Letter to Health and greeting, my Achates, in this veritable 
 Hinnln* spring month. I shall send you a parcel on Mon- 
 1846°^^^*'' ^^y "^^^^ ^^ ^®^' pages of German for your intel- 
 lectual man. The next parcel, which will be the 
 LAST, I shall send on the Monday following, and 
 when you have read to the end, you may, if you 
 think it desirable, send the whole to me. Your dull 
 ass does not mend his pace for beating ; but he does 
 mend it when he finds out that he is near his 
 journey's end, and makes you wonder how he could 
 
 1 This was a oast, 20 inches hijjh, of Thorwaldsen's grand figure 
 f)f the risen Christ, which was placed in view in her stndy at Foles- 
 hill, where she did all her work at that time, — a little room on the 
 first floor, with a charming view over the country.
 
 ■to 
 
 1846.] Finishing Translation. 105 
 
 pretend to find all the previous drawing so hard for 
 him. I plead guilty to having set off in a regular 
 scamper; but be lenient and do not scold me if 
 you find all sorts of carelessnesses in these last 
 100 pages. 
 
 I have been guilty of the most unpardonable piece Letter i 
 of carelessness, for which I am stretched on a rack HenuS 
 of anxiety and mortification. In the proof that came Isic. '" '^^''' 
 on Thursday, I unwittingly drew out a quarter sheet 
 with the blotting-paper, and did not discover the 
 mistake until Saturday morning, when about to 
 correct the last proof. Surely the printer would 
 discover the absence of the four pages and wait for 
 them, — otherwise I would rather have lost one of 
 my fingers or all the hair from my head than have 
 committed such a faux pas. For there were three 
 very awkward blunders to be corrected. All this 
 vexation makes a cold and headache doubly intoler- 
 able, and I am in a most purgatorial state on this 
 "good Sunday." I shall send the proofs with the 
 unfortunate quarter sheet and an explanation to- 
 night to Mr. Chapman, and prithee do thou en- 
 quire and see that the right thing is done. The 
 tears are streaming from my smarting eyes — so 
 farewell. 
 
 I wish we could get the book out in May, — why Letter to 
 not ? I suppose the binding could not be all got Henueiir 
 through, — the printing and writing I should think ^i^^cJ-'is^a 
 might be managed in time. Shouldn't I like to 
 fleet the time away with thee as they did in the 
 Golden Age, — after all our toils to lie reclined on 
 the hills (spiritually), like gods together, careless of 
 mankind. Sooth to speak, idleness, and idleness 
 with thee, is just the most tempting mirage you 
 could raise before my mind's eye, — I say mirage,
 
 106 
 
 Suffering from Headaches, [foleshill, 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Heiinell, 
 March, 1846. 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Hennell, 
 March, 1846. 
 
 because I am determined from henceforth to be- 
 lieve in no substantiality for future time, but to 
 live in and love the present, — of which I have done 
 too little. Still the thought of being with you in 
 your own home will attract me to that future ; for 
 without all controversy I love thee and miss thee. 
 
 My soul kisses thee, dear Sara, in gratitude for 
 those dewy thoughts of thine in this morning's note. 
 My poor adust soul wants such refreshment. Con- 
 tinue to do me good, — hoping for nothing again. I 
 have had my sister with me all day — an interrup- 
 tion, alas ! I cannot write more, but I should not 
 be happy to let the day pass without saying one 
 word to thee. 
 
 The last 100 pages have certainly been totally 
 uninteresting to me, considered as matter for 
 translation. Strauss has inevitably anticipated in 
 the earlier part of his work all the principles and 
 many of the details of his criticism, and he seems 
 fagged himself. Mais courage ! the neck of the 
 difficulty is broken, and there is really very little 
 to be done now. If one's head would but keep in 
 anything like thinking and writing order ! Mine 
 has robbed me of half the last fortnight ; but I am a 
 little better now, and am saying to myself Frisch 
 zu ! The Crucifixion and the Kesurrection are at all 
 events better than the bursting asunder of Judas. 
 I am afraid I have not made this dull part of 
 Strauss even as tolerable as it might be, for both 
 body and mind have recoiled from it. Thank you, 
 dearest, for all your love and patience for me and 
 with me. I have nothing on earth to complain of 
 but subjective maladies. Father is pretty well, and 
 I have not a single excuse for discontent through 
 the livelong day.
 
 1846.] Miss Hewnell's Help in Translation. 107 
 
 As I believe that even your kindness cannot Letter to 
 overcome your sincerity, I will cast aside my fear H^*,Leu^* 
 that your wish to see me in your own home is March, 
 rather a plan for my enjoyment than for yours. ^'^'^^' 
 I believe it would be an unmixed pleasure to me 
 to be your visitor, and one that I would choose 
 among a whole bouquet of agreeable possibilities; 
 so I will indulge myself, and accept the good that 
 the heavens and you offer me. I am miserably in 
 want of you to stir up my soul and make it shake 
 its wings, and begin some kind of flight after 
 something good and noble, for I am in a grov- 
 elling, slothful condition, and you are the only 
 friend I possess who has an animating influence 
 over me. I have written to Mr. Hennell anent 
 the titlepage, and have voted for critically ex- 
 amined, from an entire conviction of its prefer- 
 ableness. 
 
 See what it is to have a person en rapport with Letter to 
 you, that knows all your thoughts without the Heuneu/be- 
 trouble of communication ! I am especially grate- ApHi^i^. 
 ful to you for restoring the " therefore " to its right 
 place. I was about to write to you to get you to 
 remonstrate about this and the " dispassionate 
 calmness, " which I did not at all like ; but I 
 thought you had corrected the prefaces, as the 
 marks against the Latin looked like yours, so I 
 determined to indulge my laissez-faire inclina- 
 tions, for I hate stickling and debating unless it 
 be for something really important. I do really 
 like reading our Strauss, — he is so hlar und 
 ideenvoll ; but I do not know one person who is 
 likely to read the book through, — do you ? Next 
 week we will be merry and sad, wise and nonsen- 
 sical, devout and wicked together.
 
 108 Strauss Finished. [foleshill, 
 
 On 19th April, 1846, Mrs. Bray writes to 
 Miss Hennell tiiat Miss Evans is " as happy 
 as you may imagine at her work being done. 
 She means to come and read Shakspeare through 
 to us as her first enjoyment. " And again, on 
 27th April, that she " is delighted beyond 
 measure with Strauss 's elegant Preface. It is 
 just what she likes. And what a nice letter 
 tool The Latin is quite beyond me, but the 
 letter shows how neatly he can express him- 
 self. "
 
 1846.] Summary of Chapter II. 109 
 
 SUMMABY. 
 
 MARCH, 1841, TO APRIL, 1846. 
 
 Foleshill — New friends — Mrs. Pears — Coventry life and en- 
 gagements — Letters to Miss Lewis — Brother's marriage — Men- 
 tal depression — Reading ^Sicliol's " Architecture of the Heavens 
 and Phenomena of the Solar iSystem" — Makes acquaintance with 
 Mr. and Mrs. Bray — Reads Charles Hennell's Book, " An Inquiry 
 concerning the Origin of Christianity" — Effect of this hook — 
 Gives up going to church — Family difficulties — Letters to Mrs. 
 Pears — Visit to Griff — Returns to Foleshill and resumes going 
 to church — Acquaintance with Miss Sara Hennell, and develop- 
 ment of friendship with her and Mr. and ilrs. Bray — Letters to 
 Miss Sara Hennell describing mental characteristics — Attitude 
 towards immortality — Death of Miss Mary Hennell — Excursion 
 with the Brays, Mr. Charles Hennell, and Miss Hennell, to Strat- 
 ford and Malvern, and to Tenby with same party and Miss 
 Brabant — Meets Robert Owen — Studies German and music 
 with Mrs. Bray — Letter to Miss Sara Hennell with important 
 declaration of opinion in regard to conformity — Mr. Charles 
 Hennell's marriage — Stay with Dr. Brabant at Devizes — Ar- 
 rangement for translation of Strauss 's " Leben Jesu " — Excursion 
 with Brays to the Cumberland lakes, returning by Manchester 
 and Liverpool — Weary of Strauss — Letter to Mrs. Bray — 
 Poetry of Christianity — Admiration of Harriet Martineau's "The 
 Crofton Bo}"s" — Trip to Loudon — Despair about publication 
 of Strauss — Subscription of £.300 for the work — In better heart 
 — Minutiae of Strauss translation — Pains taken with the Schluss 
 Abhandluug — Opinion of Strauss's work — The book in print — 
 Trip to the Highlands — Strauss difficulties — ^fis? Hennell 
 reads the translation and makes suggestions — Suffering from 
 headaches and " Strauss-sick " — The last MS. of the translation. 
 sent to Miss HenneU — Joy at finishing — Delighted with Strauss's 
 Preface.
 
 CHAPTEK III. 
 
 The completion of the translation of Strauss is 
 another milestone passed in the life journey of 
 George Eliot, and the comparatively buoyant 
 tone of the letters immediately following makes 
 us feel that the galled neck is out of the yoke 
 for a time. In May, Mrs. Bray had left home 
 on a visit, and the next letter is addressed to 
 her. 
 Letter to Do not stay longer than is necessary to do you 
 s'und^Tpro- good, lest I should lose the pleasure of loving you, 
 Gth May)7* ^^^ ^J affcctions are always the warmest when my 
 184C. friends are within an attainable distance. I think 
 
 I can manage to keep respectably warm towards 
 you for three weeks without seeing you, but I can- 
 not promise more. Tell Mr. Bray I am getting 
 too amiable for this world, and Mr. Donovan's 
 wizard hand would detect a slight corrugation of 
 the skin on my organs 5 and 6 :^ they are so totally 
 without exercise. I had a lecture from Mr. Pears 
 on Friday, as well as a sermon this morning, so 
 you need be in no alarm for my moral health. Do 
 you never think of those Caribs who, by dint of 
 flattening their foreheads, can manage to see per- 
 pendicularly above them without so much as lift- 
 ing their heads ? There are some good people who 
 remind me of them. They see everything so 
 clearly and with so little trouble, but at the price 
 of sad self-mutilation. 
 
 1 Organs of Combatiyeness.
 
 ^'1846.1 Visit to Hennells at Hackney. Ill 
 
 On the 26tli May, Miss Evans went to pay 
 a visit to Mrs. and Miss Hennell at Hackney, 
 and she writes from there to Mrs. Bray, who 
 was expected to join them in London. 
 I cannot deny that I am very happy without you, Letter to 
 but perhaps I shall be happier with you, so do not endofSay, 
 fail to try the experiment. We have been to town ^^'^' 
 only once, and are saving all our strength to 
 " rake " with you ; but we are as ignorant as Prim- 
 itive Methodists about any of the amusements that 
 are going. Please to come in a very mischievous, 
 unconscientious, theatre-loving humour. Every- 
 body I see is very kind to me, and therefore I 
 think them all very charming ; and having every- 
 thing I want, I feel very humble and self-denying. 
 It is only rather too great a bore to have to write 
 to my friends when I am half asleep, and I have 
 not yet reached that pitch of amiability that makes 
 such magnanimity easy. Don't bring us any bad 
 news or any pains, but only nods and becks and 
 wreathed smiles. 
 
 They staid in London till the 5th June, and 
 on the 15th of that month the translation of 
 Strauss was published. On the 2d July Mrs. 
 Bray writes to Miss Hennell that Miss Evans 
 " is going to Dover with her father for a fort- 
 night. " In passing through Dover on our way 
 to the Continent in 1880 after our marriage, we 
 visited the house they staid at in 1846, and 
 my wife then told me that she had suffered a 
 great deal there, as her father's health began to 
 show signs of breaking up. On returning to 
 Coventry there is the following letter referring 
 to Wicksteed's review of the translation of 
 Strauss, which was advertised for the forth- 
 coming number of the " Prospective Pteview. "
 
 112 
 
 Good Spirits. 
 
 [foleshill, 
 
 Letter to 
 Misa Sara 
 Hennell, 
 
 Do yon think it worth my while to buy the " Pro- 
 spective " for the sake of Wicksteed's review, — is 
 Aug!^r?)Ys4G. there anything new in it ? Do you know if Mr. 
 Chapman has any unusual facilities for obtaining 
 cheap classics ? Such things are to be got hand- 
 some and second-hand in Loudon, — if one knew 
 but the way. I want to complete Xenophon's 
 works. I have the " Anabasis," and I might per- 
 haps get a nice edition of the " Memorabilia " and 
 " Cyropoedia " in a cheaper way than by ordering 
 them directly from our own bookseller. I have 
 been reading the " Fawn of Sertorius. " ^ I think 
 you would like it, though the many would not. 
 It is pure, chaste, and classic, beyond any attempt 
 at fiction I ever read. If it be Bulwer's, he has 
 been undergoing a gradual transfiguration, and is 
 now ready to be exalted into the assembly of the 
 saints. The Professor's letter, transmitted through 
 you, gave me infinite consolation, more especially 
 the apt and pregnant quotation from Berosus. 
 Precious those little hidden lakelets of knowledge 
 in the high mountains, far removed from the vul- 
 gar eye, only visited by the soaring birds of love. 
 On 25th September, 1846, Mrs. Bray writes 
 to Miss Hennell that Miss Evans " looks very 
 brilliant just now. We fancy she must be writ- 
 ing her novel ; " and then come the following 
 letters, written in October and November : — 
 All the world is bathed in glory and beauty to me 
 now, and thou sharest in the radiance. Tell me 
 whether I live for you as you do for me, and tell 
 me how gods and men are treating you. You must 
 
 1 Afterwards acknowledged by the author, Kobert Lander 
 (1)rother of Walter Savage Landor), who also wrote the " Foun- 
 tain of Arethusa," &c. 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Hennell, 
 Oct. 1846.
 
 1846.] WicksteecVs Review in" Prospective." 113 
 
 send me a scrap every month, - — only a scrap with Letter to 
 
 , i'-i-j.i i. c J. Miss Sara 
 
 a dozen words m it, just to prevent me trom starv- Henneii, 
 ing on faith alone, — of which you know I have o*='- ^s^- 
 the minimum of endowment. I am sinning against 
 my Daddy by yielding to the strong impulse I felt 
 to write to you, for he looks at me as if he wanted 
 me to read to him. 
 
 I do not know whether I can get up any steam Letter to 
 again on the subject of Quinet, but I will try, — Heileii, 
 when Cara comes back, however, for she has run mL 
 away with " Christianity " into Devonshire, and I 
 must have the book as a springing-board. When 
 does the " Prospective " come out ? 
 
 The review of Strauss contains some very just Letter to 
 remarks, — though, on the whole, I think it shal- Heuneii, ist 
 
 1 -, • ■ rril „ • • J. Nov. 1846. 
 
 low, and m many cases unfair. Ihe praise it 
 gives to the translation is just what I should have 
 wished, — indeed I cannot imagine anything more 
 gratifying in the way of laudation. Is it not 
 droll that Wicksteed should have chosen one of 
 my interpolations, or rather paraphrases, to dilate 
 on ? The expression " granite, " applied to the 
 sayings of Jesus, is nowhere used by Strauss, but 
 is an impudent addition of mine to eke out his 
 metaphor. Did you notice the review of Foster's 
 Life ? ^ I am reading the life, and thinking all 
 the time how you would like it. It is deeply 
 interesting to study the life of a genius under cir- 
 cumstances amid which genius is so seldom to be 
 found. Some of the thoughts in his journal are 
 perfect gems. 
 
 The words of the Reviewer of the Strauss 
 translation in the " Prospective " are worth pre- 
 serving : " A faithful, elegant, and scholarlike 
 
 1 John Foster, Baptist minister, born 1770, died 1843. 
 VOL. I — 8 
 
 to
 
 114 WicksteccVs Review. [foleshill, 
 
 translation. Whoever reads these volumes 
 without any reference to the German must be 
 pleased witli the easy, perspicuous, idiomatic, 
 and harmonious force of the English style. 
 But he will be still more satisfied when, on 
 turning to the original, he finds that the ren- 
 dering is word for word, thought for thought, 
 and sentence for sentence. In preparing so 
 beautiful a rendering as the present, the diffi- 
 culties can have been neither few nor small in 
 the way of preserving, in various parts of the 
 work, the exactness of the translation, com- 
 bined with that uniform harmony and clearness 
 of style which imparts to the volumes before us 
 the air and spirit of an original. Though the 
 translator never obtrudes himself upon the 
 reader with any notes or comments of his own, 
 yet he is evidently a man who has a familiar 
 knowledge of the whole subject; and if the 
 work be the joint production of several hands, 
 moving in concert, the passages of a specially 
 scholastic character, at least, have received 
 their version from a discerning and well-in- 
 formed theologian. Indeed Strauss may well 
 say, as he does in the notice which he writes 
 for the English edition, that, as far as he has 
 examined it, the translation is 'et accurata et 
 perspicua. ' " 
 Letter to Many things, both outward and inward, have con- 
 Henneirend cuvrcd to make this November far happier than 
 ■ the last. One's thoughts 
 
 " Are widened with the process of the suns ; " 
 
 and if one is rather doubtful whether one is really 
 wiser or better, it is some comfort to know that 
 the desire to be so is more pure and dominant. I
 
 1847.] "Heliados" 115 
 
 have been thinking of that most beautiful passage Letter to 
 in Luke's Gospel, — the appearance of Jesus to the Heuneureud 
 disciples at Emmaus. How universal in its sig- °^ ^°''' ^'*^' 
 nificance ! The soul that has hopelessly followed 
 its Jesus, — its impersonation of the highest and 
 best, — all in despondency ; its thoughts all re- 
 futed, its dreams all dissipated! Then comes 
 another Jesus, — another, but the same, — the 
 same highest and best, only chastened, — crucified 
 instead of triumphant, — and the soul learns that 
 this is the true way to conquest and glory. And 
 then there is the burning of the heart, which 
 assures that " this was the Lord ! " — that this is 
 the inspiration from above, — the true comforter 
 that leads unto truth. But I am not become a 
 Methodist, dear Sara ; on the contrary, if I am 
 pious one day, you may be sure I was very wicked 
 the day before, and shall be so again the next. 
 
 I have been at Griff for the last week, or I Letter to 
 
 ii> Til j_ Miss Sara 
 
 should have written before, i thank you most Henneii, 
 heartily for sending me " Heliados, " — first, because ims. 
 I admire it greatly in itself, and secondly, because 
 it is a pretty proof that I am not dissociated from 
 your most hallowed thoughts. As yet I have read 
 it only once, but I promise myself to read it again 
 and again. I shall not show it to any one, for I 
 hate " friendly criticism," as much for you as for 
 myself ; but you have a better spirit than I, and 
 when you come I will render " Heliados " up to you, 
 that others may have the pleasure of reading it. 
 
 Lying in bed this morning grievously tormented, Letter to 
 your " Heliados " visited me and revealed itself to Henneu? 
 me more completely than it had ever done before. JsIt.^*''* 
 How true that " it is only when all portions of an 
 individual nature, or all members of society, move
 
 116 
 
 Child's View of God. [foleshill, 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Heuuell, 
 IStli Feb. 
 1847. 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Hpnnell, 
 Snth April, 
 1847. 
 
 forward harmoniously together, that religious pro- 
 gress is calm and beneficial! " I imagine the sor- 
 rowful amaze of a child who had been dwelling 
 with delight on the idea that the stars were the 
 pavement of heaven's court, and that there above 
 them sat the kind but holy God, looking like a 
 venerable Father who would smile on his good 
 little ones, — when it was cruelly told, before its 
 mind had substance enough to bear such tension, 
 that the sky was not real, that the stars were 
 worlds, and that even the sun could not be God's 
 dwelling, because there were many, many suns. 
 These ideas would introduce atheism into the 
 child's mind, instead of assisting it to form a 
 nobler conception of God (of course I am suppos- 
 ing the bare information given, and left to the 
 child to work upon) ; whereas the idea it pre- 
 viously had of God was perfectly adapted to its 
 intellectual condition, and formed to the child as 
 perfect an embodiment of the all-good, all-wise, 
 and all-powerful as the most enlightened philoso- 
 pher ever formed to himself. 
 
 On 21st April Miss Evans went to Lon- 
 don with the Brays, and, among other things, 
 heard " Elijah " at Exeter Hall. On returning 
 to Coventry she writes: — 
 I did so long to see you after hearing " Elijah," 
 just to exchange an exclamation of delight. Last 
 night I had a perfect treat, too, in " I Puritani. " 
 Castellar was admirable as Elvira, and Gardoni as 
 a seraph. N. B. — I liked the Babel less, — an- 
 other sign of ane. 
 
 Mention has already been made of Miss Mary 
 Sibree (now Mrs. John Cash of Coventry) ; and 
 as the following genial letter is addressed to
 
 1S47.] ^ The Sihree Family. 117 
 
 her, it gives an opportunity for mentioning 
 here that Miss Evans had a high regard for all 
 the members of the Sibree family. At the end 
 of this year (1847) and the beginning of 1848, 
 there will be found an interesting correspon- 
 dence with Miss Sibree 's brother, Mr. John 
 Sibree, who, in 1849, published a translation 
 of Hegel's Lectures on the Philosophy of 
 History, and in 1880, a volume of poems en- 
 titled " Fancy and other Ehymes. " The sub- 
 joined extract from a communication from Mrs. 
 Cash will show upon what terms Miss Evans 
 was with the family : — 
 
 " It was in the early part of the year 1841 
 that Miss Franklin came to see my mother at 
 our house on the Foleshill Eoad, — about a 
 mile and a half from Coventry, — to tell her, 
 as a piece of most interesting news, that an 
 old pupil, of whom she herself and her sister 
 Eebecca had always been very proud, was com- 
 ing at the Lady-Day quarter to live at a house 
 on the same road, — within five minutes' walk 
 of ours. This was Miss Evans, then 21 years 
 of age. Miss Franklin dwelt with much pride 
 on Miss Evans's mental power, on her skill in 
 music, &c. ; but the great recommendation to 
 my mother's interest was the zeal for others 
 which had marked her earnest piety at school, 
 where she had induced the girls to come to- 
 gether for prayer, and which had led her to 
 visit the poor most diligently in the cottages 
 round her own home. Many years after, an 
 old nurse of mine told me that these poor peo- 
 ple had said after her removal, 'We shall never 
 have another Mary Ann Evans. '
 
 118 Mrs. Cash's Recollections [foleshill, 
 
 " My mother was asked to second and help 
 her in work of this kind. 'She will be sure to 
 get something up very soon, ' was the last 
 remark I can recall ; and on her first visit to 
 us I well remember she told us of a club for 
 clothing, set going by herself and her neigh- 
 bour Mrs. Pears, in a district to which she 
 said 'the euphonious name of the Pudding-Pits 
 had been given. ' It was not until the winter 
 of 1841, or early in 1842, that my mother first 
 received (not from Miss Evans's own lips, but 
 through a mutual friend) the information that 
 a total change had taken place in this gifted 
 woman's mind with respect to the evangelical 
 religion, which she had evidently believed in 
 up to the time of her coming to Coventry, and 
 for which, she once told me, she had at one 
 time sacrificed the cultivation of her intellect, 
 and a proper regard to personal appearance. 
 'I used,' she said, 'to go about like an owl, to 
 the great disgust of my brother; and I would 
 have denied him what I now see to have been 
 quite lawful amusements. ' My mother's grief 
 on hearing of this change in one whom she had 
 begun to love, was very great ; but she thought 
 argument and expostulation might do much, 
 and I well remember a long evening devoted to 
 it, but no more of the subject-matter than her 
 indignant refusal to blame the Jews for not 
 seeing in a merely spiritual Deliverer a fulfil- 
 ment of promises of a temporal one ; and a still 
 more emphatic protest against my father's as- 
 sertion that we had no claim on God. To Miss 
 Evans's ahectionate and pathetic speech to my 
 mother, 'Now, Mrs. Sibree, you won't care to
 
 1847.] of Miss Evans at Coventry. 119 
 
 have anything more to do with me,' my mother 
 rejoined, 'On the contrary, I shall feel more 
 interested in you than ever. ' But it was very 
 evident at this time that she stood in no need 
 of sympathising friends : that the desire for 
 conaenial societv, as well as for books and 
 larger opportunities for culture, which had led 
 her most eagerly to seek a removal from Griff 
 to a home near Coventry, had been met beyond 
 her highest expectations. In Mr. and Mrs. 
 Bray, and in the Hennell family, she had 
 found friends who called forth her interest and 
 stimulated her powers in no common degree. 
 This was traceable even in externals, — in the 
 changed tone of voice and manner, — from for- 
 mality to a geniality which opened my heart to 
 her, and made the next five years the most im- 
 portant epoch in my life. She gave me (as yet 
 in my teens) weekly lessons in German, speak- 
 ing freely on all subjects, but with no attempt 
 to directly unsettle my evangelical beliefs, con- 
 fining herself in these matters to a steady pro- 
 test against the claim of the Evangelicals to 
 an exclusive possession of higher motives to 
 morality, — or even to religion. Speaking 
 to my mother of her dearest friend, Mrs. 
 Bray, she said, 'She is the most religious per- 
 son I know. ' Of Mr. Charles Hennell, in 
 whose writings she had great interest, she said, 
 'He is a perfect model of manly excellence. ' 
 
 " On one occasion at Mr. Bray's house at 
 Rosehill, roused by a remark of his on the 
 beneficial influence exercised by evangelical 
 beliefs on the moral feelings, she said energeti- 
 cally, ' I say it now, and I say it once for all,
 
 120 Mrs. Cash's Reminiscences, [foleshill, 
 
 that I am influenced in my own conduct at the 
 present time by far higher considerations, and 
 by a nobler idea of duty, than I ever was while 
 I held the evangelical beliefs. ' Wlien at 
 length, after my brother's year's residence at 
 the Halle University (in 1842-43),. my own 
 mind having been much exercised in the mat- 
 ter of religion, I felt the moral difficulties press 
 heavily on my conscience, and my whole heart 
 was necessarily poured out to my ' Guide, Phil- 
 osopher, and Friend, ' the steady turning of my 
 attention from theoretical questions to a con- 
 fession of my own want of thoroughness in 
 arithmetic, which I pretended to teach ; and 
 the request that I would specially give atten- 
 tion to this study and get my conscience clear 
 about it, and that I would not come to her 
 again until my views of religion were also 
 clear, is too characteristic of Miss Evans, as I 
 knew her during those years, and too much in 
 harmony with the moral teaching of George 
 Eliot, to be omitted in reminiscences by one to 
 whom that wholesome advice proved a turning- 
 point in life. Two things more I cannot omit 
 to mention : one, the heightened sense given to 
 me by her of the duty of making conversation 
 profitable, and in general of using time for 
 serious purposes, — of the positive immorality 
 of frittering it away in ill-natured or in poor, 
 profitless talk ; another, the debt (so frequently 
 acknowledged by Miss Evans to me) which she 
 owed, during the years of her life with her 
 father, to the intercourse she enjoyed with her 
 friends at Rosehill. Mr. and Mrs. Bray and 
 Miss Hennell, with their friends, were her
 
 18i7.j Tlianks for Present of Purse. 121 
 
 world, — and on my saying to her once, as we 
 closed the garden door together, that we seemed 
 to be entering a Paradise, she said, 'I do indeed 
 feel that I shut the world out when I shut that 
 door. ' It is consoling to me now to feel that 
 in her terrible suffering through her father's 
 illness and death, which were most trying to 
 witness, she had such alleviations. " 
 It is worth while to forget a friend for a week or Letter to 
 ten days, just for the sake of the agreeable kind of siw, wth 
 startle it gives one to be reminded that one has ^*y'^^^- 
 such a treasure in reserve, — the same sort of 
 pleasure, I suppose, that a poor body feels who 
 happens to lay his hand on an undreamt of six- 
 pence which had sunk to a corner of his pocket. 
 When Mr. Sibree brought me your parcel, I had 
 been to London for a week ; and having been full 
 of Mendelssohn oratorios and Italian operas, I had 
 just this kind of delightful surprise when I saw 
 your note and the beautiful purse. Not that I 
 mean to compare you to a sixpence, — you are a 
 brisht golden sovereign to me, with edges all un- 
 rubbed, fit to remind a poor, tarnished, bruised 
 piece like me, that there are ever fresh and more 
 perfect coinages of human nature forthcoming. I 
 am very proud of my purse, — first, because I have 
 long had to be ashamed of drawing my old one out 
 of my pocket ; and secondly, because it is a sort of 
 symbol of your love for me, — and who is not 
 proud to be loved ? For there is a beautiful kind 
 of pride at which no one need frown, — I may call 
 it a sort of impersonal pride, — a thrill of exulta- 
 tion at all that is good and lovely and joyous as a 
 possession of our human nature. 
 
 I am glad to think of all your pleasure among
 
 122 Old Peoples Judgments. [foleshill, 
 
 Letter to friencls new and old. Mrs. D. 's mother is, I dare- 
 silTree, iwh 83}% a Valuable person; but do not, I beseech thee, 
 Way, 184/. ^^^ ^^ ^^j pcople as oracles on matters which date 
 any later than their thirty-fifth year. Only trust 
 them, if they are good, in those practical rules 
 which are the common property of long experience. 
 If they are governed by one special idea which 
 circumstances or their own mental bias have caused 
 them to grasp with peculiar firmness, and to work 
 up into original forms, make yourself master of 
 their thoughts and convictions, the residuum of 
 all that long travail which poor mortals have to 
 encounter in their threescore years and ten, but do 
 not trust their application of their gathered wis- 
 dom ; for however just old people may be in their 
 principles of judgment, they are often wrong in 
 their application of them from an imperfect or un- 
 just conception of the matter to be judged. Love 
 and cherish and venerate the old ; but never ima- 
 gine that a worn-out, dried-up organisation can be 
 so rich in inspiration as one which is full fraught 
 with life and energy. I am not talking like one 
 who is superlatively jealous for the rights of the 
 old ; yet such I am, I assure thee. I heard Men- 
 delssohn's new oratorio " Elijah " when I was in 
 London. It has been performed four times in 
 Exeter Hall to as large an audience as the build- 
 ing would hold, — Mendelssohn himself the con- 
 ductor. It is a glorious production, and altogether 
 I look upon it as a kind of sacramental purifica- 
 tion of Exeter Hall, and a proclamation of indul- 
 gence for all that is to be perpetrated there during 
 this month of May. This is a piece of impiety 
 which you may expect from a lady who has been 
 guanoing her mind with French novels. This is
 
 1847.] Re-reading of HennelVs " Inquiry." 123 
 
 the impertinent expression of D 'Israeli, who, writ- Letter to 
 ing himself much more detestable stuff than ever sibre^ioth 
 came from a French pen, can do nothing better to '^^y^'^^'^- 
 bamboozle the unfortunates who are seduced into 
 reading his " Tancred " than speak superciliously 
 of all other men and things, — an expedient much 
 more successful in some quarters than one would 
 expect. But au fond, dear Mary, I have no im- 
 piety in my mind at this moment, and my soul 
 heartily responds to your rejoicing that society is 
 attaining a more perfect idea and exhibition of 
 Paul's exhortation, — "Let the same mind be in 
 you which was also in Christ Jesus. " I believe 
 the Amen to this will be uttered more and more 
 fervently, " Among all posterities for ever more. " 
 
 Ask me not why I have never written all this Letter to 
 weary time. I can only answer, " All things are He^eii? 
 full of labour, — man cannot utter it, " — et seq. H^f"^^' 
 See the 1st chapter of Ecclesiastes for my expe- 
 rience. 
 
 I have read the " Inquiry " again with more than Letter to 
 interest, — with delight and high admiration. My ul'Lln,^ 
 present impression from it far surpasses the one I }847.^®p*' 
 had retained from my two readings about five 
 years ago. With the exception of a few expres- 
 sions which seem too little discriminating in the 
 introductory sketch, there is nothing in its whole 
 tone from beginning to end that jars on my moral 
 sense ; and apart from any opinion of the book as 
 an explanation of the existence of Christianity and 
 the Christian documents, I am sure that no one, 
 fit to read it at all, could read it without being 
 intellectually and morally stronger, — the reason- 
 ing is so close, the induction so clever, the style 
 so clear, vigorous, and pointed, and the animus
 
 124 Hennell's " Inquiry." [foleshill, 
 
 Letter to SO Candid and even generous. Mr. Hennell ought 
 Henneu, to bc One of the happiest of men that he has done 
 1847. ^^ ' such a life's work. I am sure if I had written 
 such a book, I should be invulnerable to all the 
 arrows of all spiteful gods and goddesses. I 
 should say, " None of these things move me, 
 neither count I my life dear unto myself, " seeing 
 that I have delivered such a message of God to 
 men. The book is full of wit to me. It gives me 
 that exquisite kind of laughter which comes from 
 the gratification of the reasoning faculties. Tor 
 instance : " If some of those who were actually at 
 the mountain doubted whether they saw Jesus or 
 not, we may reasonably doubt whether he was to 
 be seen at all there : especially as the words attri- 
 buted to him do not seem at all likely to have 
 been said, from the disciples paying no attention 
 to them. " " The disciples considered her [Mary 
 Magdalene's] words idle tales, and believed them 
 not. " We have thus their example for consider- 
 ing her testimony alone as insufficient, and for 
 seeking further evidence. To say " Jewish philoso- 
 pher " seems almost like saying a round square : 
 yet those two words appear to me the truest 
 description of Jesus. I think the " Inquiry " fur- 
 nishes the utmost that can be done towards obtain- 
 ing a real view of the life and character of Jesus, 
 by rejecting as little as possible from the Gospels. 
 I confess that I should call many things " shining 
 ether," to which Mr. Hennell allows the solid 
 angularity of facts ; but I think he has thoroughly 
 worked out the problem, — subtract from the New 
 Testament the miraculous and highly improbable, 
 and what will be the remainder ? 
 
 At the end of September Miss Evans and
 
 1847.] Trip to Isle of Wight. 125 
 
 her father went for a little trip to the Isle of 
 Wight, and on their return there is the follow- 
 ing letter : — 
 I heartily wish you had been with me to see all Letter to 
 the beauties which have gladdened my soul, and Heuneu? 
 made me feel that this earth is as good a heaven Islv.*^'"'' 
 as I ought to dream of. I have a much greater 
 respect for the Isle of Wight, now I have seen it, 
 than when I knew it only by report, — a compli- 
 ment which one can seldom very sincerely pay to 
 things and people that one has heard puffed and 
 bepraised. I do long for you to see Alum Bay. 
 Fancy a very high precipice, the strata upheaved 
 perx^endicularly in rainbow-like streaks of the 
 brightest maize, violet, pink, blue, red, brown, 
 and brilliant white, worn by the weather into fan- 
 tastic fretwork, the deep blue sky above, and the 
 glorious sea below. It seems an enchanted land, 
 where the earth is of more delicate, refined mate- 
 rials than this dingy planet of ours is wrought out 
 of. You might fancy the strata formed of the 
 compressed pollen of flowers, or powder from bright 
 insects. You can think of nothing but Calypsos, 
 or Prosperos and Ariels, and suchlike beings. 
 
 I find one very great spiritual good attendant on 
 a quiet meditative journey among fresh scenes. I 
 seem to have removed to a distance from myself 
 when I am away from the petty circumstances that 
 make up my ordinary environment. I can take 
 myself up by the ears and inspect myself like 
 any other queer monster on a small scale. I have 
 had many thoughts, especially on a subject that I 
 should like to work out, — " The superiority of the 
 consolations of philosophy to those of (so-called) 
 religion. " Do you stare ?
 
 126 
 
 Blanco White. 
 
 [foleshilx, 
 
 Letter to 
 M:so Sara 
 Heuuell, 
 13th Oct. 
 
 1847. 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Henuell, 
 27th Nov. 
 1847. 
 
 Thank you for putting me on reading Sir Charles 
 Grandison. I have read five volumes, and am only- 
 vexed that I have not the two last on my tahle at 
 this moment, that I might have them for my con- 
 vives. I had no idea that liichardson was worth 
 so much. I have had more pleasure from him 
 than from all the Swedish novels together. The 
 morality is perfect, — there is nothing for the new 
 lights to correct. 
 
 How do you like "Ldlia, " of which you have 
 never spoken one word ? I am provoked with you 
 for being in the least pleased with " Tancred ; " but 
 if you have found out any lofty meaning in it, or 
 any true picturing of life, tell it me, and I will 
 recant. I have found tw^o new readers of Strauss. 
 One a lady at Leamington, who is also reading the 
 " Inquiry, " but likes Strauss better ! The other is a 
 gentleman here in Coventry ; he says " it is most 
 clever and ingenious, and that no one whose faith 
 rests only on the common foundation can withstand 
 it. " I think he may safely say that his faith rests 
 on an wwcommon foundation. The book will cer- 
 tainly give him a lift in the right direction from 
 its critical, logical character, — just the opposite 
 of his own. I was interested the other day in 
 talking to a young lady who lives in a nest of 
 clergymen, her brothers, but not of the evangelical 
 school. She had been reading Blanco White's 
 life, and seems to have had her spirit stirred 
 within her, as every one's must be who reads the 
 book with any power of appreciation. She is 
 unable to account to herself for the results at which 
 Blanco White arrived wdth his earnestness and 
 love of truth ; and she asked me if I had come 
 to the same conclusions.
 
 1848.] "Lettres cVun Voyageur" 127 
 
 I think " Live aud teach " should be a proverb Letter to 
 as well as " Live and learn. " We must teach either Hemiei" 
 for good or evil ; and if we use our inward light as i^7.'^°''' 
 the Quaker tells us, always taking care to feed and 
 trim it well, our teaching must in the end be for 
 good. We are growing old together, — are we not ? 
 I am growing happier too. I am amusing myself 
 with thinking of the prophecy of Daniel as a sort 
 of allegory. All those monstrous, " rombustical " 
 beasts with their horns, — the horn with eyes and 
 a mouth speaking proud things, and the little horn 
 that waxed rebellious and stamped on the stars, 
 seem like my passions and vain fancies, which are 
 to be knocked down one after the other, — until 
 all is subdued into a universal kingdom over 
 which the Ancient of Days presides, — the spirit 
 of love, — the Catholicism of the Universe, if you 
 can attach any meaning to such a phrase. It has 
 a meaning for my sage noddle. 
 
 I am reading George Sand's "Lettres d'un Letter to 
 
 Miss Sara 
 
 Voyageur " with great delight, and hoping that Heuneii, 
 they will some time do you as much good as they 
 do me. In the meantime, I think the short letter 
 about " L^lia " will interest you. It has a very 
 deep meaning to my apprehension. You can send 
 back the pages when you have duly digested them. 
 I once said of you that yours was a sort of alkali 
 nature, which would detect the slightest acid of 
 falsehood. You began to phiz-zz directly it ap- 
 proached you. I want you as a test. I now begin 
 to see the necessity of the arrangement (a bad word) 
 that love should determine people's fate while 
 they are young. It is so impossible to admire — • 
 " s' enthousiasmer " of — an individual as one gets 
 older. 
 
 Jan. 1S48.
 
 of 1848. 
 
 128 Letter to Mr. Sibree. [foleshill, 
 
 Here follows the interesting correspondence, 
 referred to before, with Mr. John Sibree. 
 Letter to Begin jour letter by abusing me according to my 
 bejnnfng cxample. There is nothing like a little gun- 
 powder for a damp chimney ; and an explosion of 
 that sort will set the fire of your ideas burning to 
 admiration. I hate bashfulness and modesties, as 
 Sir Hugh Evans would say ; and I warn you that I 
 shall make no apologies, though from my habit of 
 writing only to people who, rather than have noth- 
 ing from me, will tolerate nothings, I shall be 
 very apt to forget that you are not one of those 
 amiably silly individuals. I must write to you 
 more meo, without taking pains or labouring to be 
 s'pirituelle when heaven never meant me to be so ; 
 and it is your own fault if you bear with my 
 letters a moment after they become an infliction. 
 I am glad you detest Mrs. Hannah More's letters. 
 I like neither her letters, nor her books, nor her 
 character. She was that most disagreeable of all 
 monsters, a blue stocking, — a monster that can 
 only exist in a miserably false state of society, in 
 which a woman with but a smattering of learning 
 or philosophy is classed along with singing mice 
 and card-playing pigs. It is some time since I 
 read " Tancred, " so that I have no very vivid recol- 
 lection of its details ; but I thought it very " thin," 
 and inferior in the working up to " Coningsby, " and 
 " Sybil. " Young Englandism is almost as remote 
 from my sympathies as Jacobitism, as far as its 
 force is concerned, though I love and respect it as 
 an effort on behalf of the people. D 'Israeli is 
 unquestionably an able man, and I always enjoy 
 his tirades against liberal principles as opposed to 
 popular principles, — the name by which he dis-
 
 1848.] Bace Characteristics. 129 
 
 tinguishes his own. As to his theory of races, it Letter to 
 has not a leg to stand on, and can only be buoyed beghmi^g 
 up by such windy eloquence as, — You chubby- ° 
 faced, squabby-nosed Europeans owe your com- 
 merce, your arts, your religion, to the Hebrews, 
 — nay, the Hebrews lead your armies : in proof of 
 which he can tell us that Massdna, a second-rate 
 general of Napoleon's, was a Jew, whose real name 
 was Manasseh. Extermination up to a certain 
 point seems to be the law for the inferior races, — 
 for the rest fusion both for physical and moral 
 ends. It appears to me that the law by which 
 privileged classes degenerate from continual inter- 
 marriage, must act on a larger scale in deteriorat- 
 ing whole races. The nations have been always 
 kept apart until they have sufficiently developed 
 their idiosyncrasies, and then some great revolu- 
 tionary force has been called into action, by which 
 the genius of a particular nation becomes a portion 
 of the common mind of humanity. Looking at 
 the matter aesthetically, our idea of beauty is never 
 formed on the characteristics of a single race. I 
 confess the types of the pure races, however hand- 
 some, always impress me disagreeably ; there is an 
 undefined feeling that I am looking not at man, 
 but at a specimen of an order under Cuvier's class 
 Bimana. The negroes certainly puzzle me. All 
 the other races seem plainly destined to extermi- 
 nation, not excepting even the Hebrew Caucasian. 
 But the negroes are too important, physiologically 
 and geographically, for one to think of their exter- 
 mination ; while the repulsion between them and 
 the other races seems too strong for fusion to take 
 place to any great extent. On one point 1 heartily 
 agree with D 'Israeli as to the superiority of the 
 
 VOL I. — 9
 
 of 1848. 
 
 130 Music. [foleshill, 
 
 Letter to Oriental races, — their clothes are beautiful and 
 
 J. Sibree, ,, . i i -.^ ■ t , . , 
 
 beginning tiieir mannBis are a<freeable. Did you not think 
 the picture of the Barroui family interesting ? I 
 should like to know who are the originals. The 
 fellowship of race, to which D 'Israeli so exult- 
 ingly refers the munificence of Sidonia, is so evi- 
 dently an inferior impulse, which must ultimately 
 be superseded, that I wonder even he, Jew as he 
 is, dares to boast of it. My Gentile nature kicks 
 most resolutely against any assumption of supe- 
 riority in the Jews, and is almost ready to echo 
 Voltaire's vituperation. I bow to the supremacy 
 of Hebrew poetry, but much of their early mytho- 
 logy, and almost all their history, is utterly re- 
 volting. Their stock has produced a Moses and a 
 Jesus ; but Moses was impregnated with Egyptian 
 philosophy, and Jesus is venerated and adored by 
 us only for that wherein He transcended or resisted 
 Judaism. The very exaltation of their idea of a 
 national deity into a spiritual monotheism seems 
 to have been borrowed from the other oriental 
 tribes. Everything specifically Jewish is of a low 
 grade. 
 
 And do you really think that sculpture and 
 painting are to die out of the world? If that be 
 so, let another deluge come as quickly as possible, 
 that a new race of Glums and Gowries may take 
 possession of this melancholy earth. I agree with 
 you as to the inherent superiority of music, — as 
 that questionable woman, the Countess Hahn- 
 Hahn, says painting and sculpture are but an 
 idealising of our actual existence. Mnsic arches 
 over this existence with another and a diviner. 
 Amen, too, to that ideenvnll observation of Hegel's, 
 — " We hardly know what it is to feel for human
 
 18i8.] Sculpture and Painting. 131 
 
 misery until we have heard a shriek: and a more Letter to 
 nerfect hell might be made out of sound than out begimuug 
 of any preparation of fire and brimstone. " When 
 the tones of our voice have betrayed peevishness 
 or harshness, v^^e seem to be doubly haunted by the 
 ghost of our sin : we are doubly conscious that we 
 have been untrue to our part in the great Handel 
 jhorus. But I cannot assent to the notion that 
 music is to supersede the other arts, or that the 
 highest minds must necessarily aspire to a sort of 
 Milton blindness, in which the tiefste der Sinne is 
 to be a substitute for all the rest. I cannot recog- 
 nise the truth of all that is said about the ne- 
 cessity of religious fervour to high art. I am 
 sceptical as to the real existence of such fervour in 
 any of the greatest artists. Artistic power seems 
 to me to resemble dramatic power, — to be an in- 
 timate perception of the varied states of which the 
 human mind is susceptible, with ability to give 
 them out anew in intensified expression. It is 
 true that the older the world gets, originality 
 becomes less possible. Great subjects are used 
 up, and civilisation tends evermore to repress indi- 
 vidual predominance, highly wrought agony, or 
 ecstatic joy. But all the gentler emotions will be 
 ever new, ever wrought up into more and more 
 lovely combinations, and genius will probably 
 take their direction. 
 
 Have you ever seen a head of Christ taken from 
 a statue by Thorwaldsen of Christ scourged ? If 
 not, I think it would almost satisfy you. There 
 is another work of his, said to be very sublime, of 
 the Archangel waiting for the command to sound 
 the last trumpet. Yet Thorwaldsen came at the 
 fag end of time.
 
 132 
 
 George Sand. 
 
 [foleshill, 
 
 Letter to 
 J. Sibree, 
 beginning 
 of 1848. 
 
 Letter to 
 J. Sibree, 
 beginning 
 of 1848. 
 
 I am afraid you despise landscape painting ; but 
 to me even the works of our own Stanfield and 
 Roberts and Creswick bring a whole world of 
 thought and bliss, — "a sense of something far 
 more deeply interfused. " The ocean and the sky 
 and the everlasting hills are spirit to me, and they 
 will never be robbed of their sublimity. 
 
 I have tired myself with trying to write cleverly,- 
 i7ivitd Minerva, and having in vain endeavoured 
 to refresh myself by turning over Lavater's queer 
 sketches of physiognomies, and still queerer judg- 
 ments on them, it is a happy thought of mine that 
 I have a virtuous reason for spending my ennui on 
 you. 
 
 I send you a stanza I picked up the other day in 
 George Sand's " Lettres d'un Voyageur, " which is 
 almost the ultimatum of human wisdom on the 
 question of human sorrow : — 
 
 " Le bonheur et le malheur, 
 Nous viennent du meme auteur, 
 Voila la ressemblance. 
 Le bonheur nous rend heureux, 
 Et le malheur malheureux, 
 Voila la diffe'reuce." , 
 
 Ah, here comes a cup of coffee to console me! 
 When I have taken it, I will tell you what George 
 Sand says : " Sais tu bien que tout est dit devant 
 Dieu et devant les hommes quand I'homme in- 
 fortun^ demande compte de ses maux et qu'il 
 obtient cette rdponse ? Qu'y a-t-il de plus ? Rien. " 
 But I am not a mocking pen, and if I were talking 
 to you instead of writing, you would detect some 
 falsity in the ring of my voice. Alas ! the atra- 
 biliar patient you describe is first cousin to me in 
 my very worst moods, but I have a profound faith
 
 1848.] Desire for Confidences. 133 
 
 that the serpent's head will be bruised. This Letter to 
 conscious kind of false life that is ever and anon beginufug 
 endeavouring to form itself within us, and eat °^'^^^- 
 away our true life, will be overcome by continued 
 accession of vitality, by our perpetual increase in 
 " quantity of existence, " as Foster calls it. Crea- 
 tion is the superadded life of the intellect : sym- 
 pathy, all-embracing love, the superadded moral 
 life. These given more and more abundantly, I 
 feel that all the demons, which are but my own 
 egotism mopping and mowing and gibbering, would 
 vanish away, and there would be no place for 
 them, — 
 
 " For every gift of noble origin 
 Is breathed upon by hope's perpetual breath." 
 
 Evils, even sorrows, are they not all negations ? 
 Thus matter is in a perpetual state of decomposi- 
 tion, — superadd the principle of life, and the ten- 
 dency to decomposition is overcome. Add to this 
 consciousness, and there is a power of self-amelio- 
 ration. The passions and senses decompose, so to 
 speak. The intellect by its analytic power re- 
 strains the fury with which they rush to their own 
 destruction ; the moral nature purifies, beautifies, 
 and at length transmutes them. But to whom am 
 I talking? You know far more sur ce chapitre 
 than I. 
 
 Every one talks of himself or herself to me, and 
 I beg you will follow every one's example in this 
 one thing only. Individuals are precious to me 
 in proportion as they unfold to me their intimate 
 selves. I. have just had lent me the journal of a 
 person who died some years ago. When I was 
 less venerable I should have felt the readiuir of
 
 134 
 
 French Revolution. 
 
 [rOLESHILL, 
 
 Letter to 
 J. Sibree, 
 begiuuing 
 of 1848. 
 
 Letter to 
 J. Sibree, 
 Feb. 1848. 
 
 such a thing insupportable ; now it interests me, 
 though it is the simplest record of events and 
 feelings. 
 
 Mary says she has told you about Mr. Dawson 
 and his lecture, — miserably crude and mystifying 
 in some parts, but with a few fine passages. He 
 is a very delightful man, but not (at least so say 
 my impressions) a great man. How difficult it is 
 to be great in this world where there is a tarijfl' for 
 spiritualities as well as for beeves and cheese and 
 tallow ! It is scarcely possible for a man simply 
 to give out his true inspiration, — the real pro- 
 found conviction which he has won by hard 
 wrestling, or the few and far-between pearls of 
 imagination : he must go on talking or writing by 
 rote, or he must starve. Would it not be better 
 to take to tent-making with Paul, or to spectacle- 
 making with Spinoza ? 
 
 Write and tell you that I join you in your 
 happiness about the French devolution ? Very 
 fine, my good friend. If I made you wait for a 
 letter as long as you do me, our little echantillon 
 of a millennium would be over: Satan would be 
 let loose again ; and I should have to share your 
 humiliation instead of your triumph. 
 
 Nevertheless I absolve you, for the sole merit of 
 thinking rightly (that is, of course, just as I do) 
 about la grande nation and its doings. You and 
 Carlyle (have you seen his article in last week's 
 " Examiner " ?) are the only two people who feel 
 just as I would have them, — who can glory in 
 wh?t is actually great and beautiful without put- 
 ting forth any cold repervations and incredulities 
 to save their credit for wisdom. I am all the 
 more delighted with your enthusiasm because I
 
 1848.] Sympathy with Bevolution. 135 
 
 didn't expect it. I feared that you lacked revo- Letter to 
 
 1 • 1 T. . • i. J- Sibree, 
 
 lutionary ardour. Isut uo, — you are ]ust as sans- Feb. is48. 
 culottish aud rash as I would have you. You are 
 not one of those sages whose reason keeps so tight 
 a rein on their emotions that they are too con- 
 stantly occupied in calculating consequences to 
 rejoice in any great manifestation of the forces 
 that underlie our every-day existence. I should 
 have written a soprano to your Jubilate the very 
 next day, but that, lest I should be exalted above 
 measure, a messenger of Satan was sent in the 
 form of a headache, and directly on the back of 
 that a face-ache, so that I have been a mere victim 
 of sensations, memories, and visions for the last 
 week. I am even now, as you may imagine, in a 
 very shattered, limbo-like mental condition. 
 
 I thought we had fallen on such evil days that 
 we were to see no really great movement, — that 
 ours was what St. Simon calls a purely critical ^ 
 
 epoch, not at all an organic one ; but I begin to be 
 glad of my date. I would consent, however, to 
 have a year dipt off my life for the sake of wit- 
 nessing such a scene as that of the men of the bar- 
 ricades bowing to the image of Christ, " who first 
 taught fraternity to men. " One trembles to look 
 into every fresh newspaper lest there should be 
 something to mar the picture ; but hitherto even 
 the scoffing newspaper critics have been compelled 
 into a tone of genuine respect for the French peo- 
 ple and the Provisional Government. Lamartine 
 can act a poem if he cannot write one of the very 
 first order. I hope that beautiful face given to 
 him in the pictorial newspaper is really his : it is 
 worthy of an aureolel I am chiefly anxious about 
 Albert, the operative, but his picture is not to be
 
 136 Decayed Monarchs, [foleshill, 
 
 Letter to 86611. I have little patience with people who can 
 reb!'i848. find time to pity Louis Philippe and his mous- 
 tachioed sons. Certainly our decayed monarchs 
 should be pensioned off; we should have a hospital 
 for them, or a sort of zoological garden, where 
 these worn-out humbugs may be preserved. It is 
 but justice that we should keep them, since we 
 have spoiled them for any honest trade. Let them 
 sit on soft cushions, and have their dinner regu- 
 larly, but, for heaven's sake, preserve me from 
 sentimentalising over a pampered old man when 
 the earth has its millions of unfed souls and 
 bodies. Surely he is not so Ahab-like as to wish 
 that the revolution had been deferred till his son's 
 days ; and I think the shades of the Stuarts would 
 have some reason to complain if the Bourbons, 
 who are so little better than they, had been allowed 
 to reign much longer. 
 
 I should have no hope of good from any imita- 
 tive movement at home. Our working-classes are 
 eminently inferior to the mass of the French peo- 
 ple. In Prance the mind of the people is highly 
 electrified ; they are full of ideas on social subjects; 
 they really desire social reform, — not merely an 
 acting out of Sancho Panza's favourite proverb, 
 " Yesterday for you, to-day for me. " The revolu- 
 tionary animus extended over the whole nation, 
 and embraced the rural population, — not merely, 
 as with us, the artisans of the towns. Here there 
 is so much larger a proportion of selfish radicalism 
 and unsatisfied brute sensuality (in the agricultu- 
 ral and mining districts especially) than of per- 
 ception or desire of justice, that a revolutionary 
 movement would be simply destructive, not con- 
 structive. Besides, it would be put down. Our
 
 1848.] Necessity of Utterance. 137 
 
 military have no notion of " fraternising." They Letter to 
 have the same sort of inveteracy as dogs have for Feb'VlTs. 
 the ill-drest canaille. They are as mere a brute 
 force as a battering-ram ; and the aristocracy have 
 got firm hold of them. And there is nothing in 
 our Constitution to obstruct the slow progress of 
 political reform. This is all we are fit for at 
 present. The social reform which may prepare us 
 for great changes is more and more the object of 
 effort both in Parliament and out of it. But we 
 English are slow crawlers. The sympathy in 
 Ireland seems at present only of the water-toast 
 kind. The Glasgow riots are more serious ; but 
 one cannot believe in a Scotch Reign of Terror in 
 these days. I should not be sorry to hear that the 
 Italians had risen en masse, and chased the odious 
 Austrians out of beautiful Lombardy. But this 
 they could hardly do without help, and that in- 
 volves another European war. 
 
 Concerning the "tent-making," there is much 
 more to be said, but am I to adopt your rule and 
 never speak of what I suppose we agree about ? It 
 is necessary to me, not simply to he but to utter, 
 and I require utterance of my friends. What is it 
 to me that I think the same thoughts ? I think - 
 them in a somewhat different fashion. No mind 
 that has any real life is a mere echo of another. If 
 the perfect unison comes occasionally, as in music, 
 it enhances the harmonies. It is like a diffusion 
 or expansion of one's own life, to be assured that 
 its vibrations are repeated in another, and words 
 are the media of those vibrations. Is not the uni- 
 verse itself a perpetual utterance of the one Being ? 
 So I say again, utter, utter, utter, and it will be a 
 deed of mercy twice blest, for I shall be a safety-
 
 138 Sympaiky icith Nonconformity, [koleshill 
 
 valve for your commuuicativeness, and prevent it 
 from splitting honest people's brains who don't 
 understand you ', and, moreover, it will be fraught 
 with ghostly comfort to me. 
 Letter to J. I might make a very plausible excuse for not 
 fay eveuiilg. acknowledging your kind note earlier, by telling 
 later in 1848. y^^j ^^vAt I havc been both a nurse and invalid; 
 but to be thoroughly ingenuous, I must confess that 
 all this would not have been enough to prevent my 
 writing but for my chronic disease of utter idleness. 
 I have heard and thought of you with great in- 
 terest, how^ever. You have my hearty and not in- 
 experienced sympathy ; for, to speak in the style 
 of Jonathan Oldbuck, I am hnud ignara mali. 1 
 have gone through a trial of the same genus as 
 yours, though rather differing in species. I sin- 
 cerely rejoice in the step you have taken ; it is an 
 absolutely necessary condition for any true develop- 
 ment of your nature. It was impossible to think of 
 your career with hope, w'hile you tacitly subscribed 
 to the miserable etiquette (it deserves no better or 
 more spiritual name) of sectarianisnL Only per- 
 severe, — be true, firm, and loving, — not too anx- 
 ious about immediate usefulness to others, — that 
 can only be a result of justice to yourself. Study 
 mental hygiene. Take long doses of dolce far 
 niente, and be in no great hurry about anything in 
 this 'varsal world ! Do we not commit ourselves 
 to sleep, and so resign all care for ourselves every 
 night, lay ourselves gently on the bosom of nature 
 or God ? A beautiful reproach to the spirit of some 
 religionists and ultra-good people ! 
 
 I like the notion of your going to Germany as 
 good in every way, for yourself, body and mind, 
 and for all others. Oh the bliss of having a very
 
 1848.] Concerning Correspondence. 139 
 
 high attic in a romantic Continental town, such Letter to j. 
 
 rt n c •111- Sibree, Sun- 
 
 as Geneva, — lar away irom mornnig-callers, dni- day evening. 
 ners, and decencies, and then to pause for a year ^'*''"»^^*^ 
 and think de omnibus rebus ei quibusdam aliis, and 
 then to return to life, and work for poor stricken 
 humanity, and never think of self again ! ^ 
 
 I am writing nearly in the dark, with the post- 
 boy waiting. 1 fear I shall not be at home when 
 you come home, but surely I shall see you before 
 you leave England. However that may be, I shall 
 ■utter a genuine Leheivohl. 
 
 in my view there are but two kinds of regular Letter to 
 
 T '■, 1 c • ^ CL' Miss Sara 
 
 correspondence possible, — one of simple artec- Henueii, ist 
 tion, which gives a picture of all the details, pain- ^^^' ^^'^^' 
 ful and • pleasurable, that a loving heart pines after, 
 and this we carry on through the medium of Cara; 
 or one purely moral and intellectual, caiTied on for 
 the sake of ghostly edification, in which each party 
 has to put salt on the tails of all sorts of ideas on 
 all sorts of subjects, in order to send a weekly or 
 fortnightly packet, as so much duty and self-casti- 
 gation. I have always been given to understand 
 tliat such Lady-Jane-Grey-like works were your 
 abhorrence. However, let me know what you 
 would like, — what would make you continue to 
 hold me in loving remembrance or convince you 
 that you are a bright evergreen in my garden of 
 pleasant plants. Behold me ready to tear off my 
 right hand or pluck out my right eye (metaphori- 
 cally, of course, — I speak to an experienced exege- 
 tist, comme dirait noire Strauss), or write reams of 
 letters full of interesting falsehoods or very dull 
 truths. We have always concluded that our cor- 
 respondence should be of the third possible kind,-— 
 ^ An Ahnung — a presentiment — of her own future.
 
 140 
 
 Father III. 
 
 [sT. LEONARDS, 
 
 Letter to 
 Mis& Sara 
 Ueuuell, 
 14th April, 
 
 1S48. 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Heunell, 
 20th April, 
 1848. 
 
 Letter to 
 Chas. Bray, 
 May 1848. 
 
 one of impulse, which is necessarily irregular as the 
 Northern lights. 
 
 I am a miserable wretch, with aching limbs and 
 sinking spirits, but still alive enough to feel the kind- 
 ness of your last note. I thoroughly enjoyed your 
 delight in Emerson. I should have liked to see 
 you sitting by him "with awful eye," for once in 
 your life feeling all the bliss of veneration. I am 
 C[;uite uncertain about our movements. .Dear father 
 gets on very slowly, if at all. You will understand 
 the impossibility of my forming any plans for my 
 own pleasure. Rest is the only thing I can think 
 of with pleasure now. 
 
 Dear father is so decidedly progressing towards 
 recovery that I am full of quiet joy, — a gentle 
 dawning light after the moonlight of sorrow. I 
 have found already some of the " sweet uses " that 
 belong only to what is called trouble, which is, after 
 all, only a deepened gaze into life, like the sight of 
 the darker blue and the thickening host of stars 
 when the hazy effect of twilight is gone, — as our 
 dear Blanco White said of death. I shall have less 
 time than I have had at my own disposal probably ; 
 but I feel prepared to accept life, nay, lovingly to 
 embrace it in any form in which it shall present 
 itself. 
 
 Sometime in May, Mr. Evans and his daugh- 
 ter went to St. Leonards, and remained there 
 till near the end of June. His mortal illness 
 had now taken hold of him, and this was a de- 
 pressing time both for him and for her, as will 
 be seen from the following letters : — 
 Your words of affection seem to make this earthly 
 atmosphere sit less heavily on my shoulders, and in 
 gratitude I must send you my thanks before I begin
 
 1848.] Depression. 141 
 
 to read of Henry Gow and Fair Catharine for father's Letter to 
 delectation. In truth, I have found it somewhat Mly^isS!' 
 difficult to live for the last week, — conscious all the 
 time that the only additions to my lot worth having 
 must be more strength to love in my own nature ; 
 but perhaps this very consciousness has an irritating 
 rather than a soothing effect, I have a fit of sensi- 
 tiveness upon me, which after all is but egotism and 
 mental idleness. The enthusiasm without which 
 one cannot even pour out breakfast well (at least 
 1 cannot), has forsaken me. You may laugh and 
 wonder when my enthusiasm has displayed itself, 
 but that will only prove that you are no seer. I 
 can never live long without it in some form or 
 other. I possess my soul in patience for a time, 
 believing that this dark, damp vault in which I am 
 groping will soon come to an end, and the fresh 
 green earth and the bright sky be all the more 
 precious to me. But for the present my address is 
 Grief Castle, on the River of Gloom, in the Valley 
 of Dolour. I was amused to find that Castle Camp- 
 bell in Scotland was called so. Truly for many 
 seasons in my life I should have been an appro- 
 priate denizen of such a place; but I have faith 
 that unless I am destined to insanity, I shall never 
 again abide long in that same castle. I heartily 
 say Amen to your dictum about the cheerfulness 
 of " large moral regions." Where thought and love 
 are active, — thought the formative power, love the 
 vitalising, — there can be no sadness. They are in 
 themselves a more intense and extended partici- 
 pation of a divine existence. As they grow, the 
 highest species of faith grows too, and all things 
 are possible. I don't know why I should prose in 
 this way to you But I wanted to thank you for
 
 142 
 
 Depression. 
 
 [sT. LEONARDS, 
 
 Letter to 
 Chas. Bray, 
 31st May, 
 1848. 
 
 Letter tc 
 Miss Sara 
 Hennell, 
 Itli June, 
 1648. 
 
 your note, and all this selfish grumblmg was at my 
 pen's end. And now I have no time to redeem 
 myself. We shall not stay long away from home, 
 I feel sure. 
 
 Father has done wonders in the way of walking 
 and eating, — for him, — but he makes not the 
 slightest attempt to amuse himself, so that I 
 scarcely feel easy in following my own bent even 
 for an hour. I have told you everything now, 
 except that I look amiable in spite of a strong 
 tendency to look black, and speak gently, thou 
 with a strong propensity to be snappish. Pity 
 ye happier spirits that look amiable and speak 
 gently, because ye are amiable and gentle. 
 
 Alas for the fate of poor mortals which condemns 
 them to wake up some fine morning and find all the 
 poetry in which their world was bathed, only the 
 evening before, utterly gone ! — the hard, angular 
 world of chairs and tables and looking-glasses star- 
 ing at them in all its naked prose ! It is so in all 
 the stages of life : the poetry of girlhood goes, — the 
 poetry of love and marriage, — the poetry of 
 maternity, — and at last the very poetry of duty 
 forsakes us for a season, and we see ourselves, and 
 all about us, as nothing more than miserable ag- 
 glomerations of atoms, — poor tentative efforts of 
 the Natur Princip to mould a personality. This 
 is the state of prostration, — the self-abnegation 
 through which the soul must go, and to which 
 perhaps it must again and again return, that its 
 poetry or religion, which is the same thing, may be 
 a real ever flowing river, fresh from the windows 
 of heaven and the fountains of the great deep, — 
 not an artificial basin, with grotto-work and gold- 
 fish. I feel a sort of madness growing upon me, —
 
 1848.] Louis Blanc. 143 
 
 just the opposite of the dehrium which makes 
 people fancy that their bodies are fiUing the room. 
 It seems to me as if I were shrinking into that 
 mathematical abstraction, a point. But I am wast- 
 ing this " good Sunday morning " in grumblings. 
 
 Poor Louis Blanc! The newspapers make me Letter to 
 melancholy ; but shame upon me that I say " poor." sth'juuef^' 
 The day will come when there will be a temple of 
 white marble, where sweet incense and anthems 
 shall rise to the memory of every man and woman 
 who has had a deep Ahnung, a presentiment, a 
 yearning, or a clear vision of the time when this 
 miserable reigfi of Mammon shall end, — when men 
 shall be no longer " like the fishes of the sea, " — 
 society no more like a face one half of which — the 
 side of profession, of lip-faith — is fair and God-like, 
 the other half — the side of deeds and institutions — 
 with a hard old wrinkled skin puckered into the 
 sneer of a Mephistopheles. I worship the man who 
 has written as the climax of his appeal against 
 society, " L'indgalitd des talents doit ahoutir non a 
 I'in^galitd des retributions mais a I'in^galit^ des 
 devoirs." You will wonder what has wrought me 
 up into this fury. It is the loathsome fawning, the 
 transparent hypocrisy, the systematic giving as little 
 as possible for as much as possible, that one meets 
 with here at every turn. I feel that society is 
 training men and women for hell. 
 
 All creatures about to moult, or to cast off an old Letter to 
 skin, or enter on any new metamorphosis, have Heuneii, 23(i 
 sickly feelings. It was so with me. But now I "''^' 
 am set free from the irritating worn-out integument. 
 I am entering on a new period of my life, which 
 makes me look back on the past as something 
 incredibly poor and contemptible. I am enjoying
 
 144 
 
 Emerson. 
 
 [foleshill, 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 HenneU, 23d 
 June, 1848. 
 
 Letter to 
 Clias. Bray, 
 June, 1848. 
 
 Letter to 
 
 Miss Sara 
 Hennell, 
 Friday, 
 July, 1848. 
 
 repose, strength, and ardour in a greater degree 
 than I have ever known, and yet I never felt my 
 own insignificance and imperfection so completely. 
 My heart bleeds for dear father's pains, but it is 
 blessed to be at hand to give the soothing word and 
 act needed. I should not have written this descrip- 
 tion of myself but that I felt your affectionate letter 
 demanded some I-ism, which, after all, is often 
 humility rather than pride. Paris, poor Paris — 
 alas ! alas ! 
 
 I have read " Jane Eyre," and shall be glad to 
 know what you admire in it. All self-sacrifice is 
 good, but one would like it to be in a somewhat 
 nobler cause than that of a diabolical law which 
 chains a man soul and body to a putrefying carcase. 
 However the book is interesting ; only I wish the 
 characters would talk a little less like the heroes 
 and heroines of police reports. 
 
 About the beginning of July Miss Evans 
 
 and her father returned to Coventry ; and the 
 
 13th July was a memorable day, as Emerson 
 
 came to visit the Brays, and she went with 
 
 them to Stratford. All she says herself about 
 
 it is in this note. 
 
 I have seen Emerson, — the first man I have ever 
 
 seen. But you have seen still more of him, so I 
 
 need not tell you what he is. I shall leave Cara 
 
 to tell how the day — the Emerson day — was 
 
 spent, for I have a swimming head from hanging 
 
 over the desk to write business letters for father. 
 
 Have you seen the review of Strauss 's pamphlet 
 
 in the " Edinburgh " ? The title is " Der Eoman- 
 
 tiker auf dem Throne der Ciisaren, oder Julian 
 
 der Abtrlinnige, " — a sort of erudite satire on the 
 
 King of Prussia ; but the reviewer pronounces it to
 
 1848.] Carlyle on Emerson. 145 
 
 have a permanent value quite apart from this fugi- Letter to 
 tive interest. The " Eomantiker, " or Eomanticist, Heuueiir 
 is one who, in literature, in the arts, in religion july^^ks. 
 or politics, endeavours to revive the dead past. 
 Julian was a romanticist in wishing to restore the 
 Greek religion and its spirit, when mankind had 
 entered on the new development. But you have 
 very likely seen the review. I must copy one 
 passage, translated from the conclusion of Strauss 's 
 pamphlet, lest you should not have met with it. 
 " Christian writers have disfigured the death -scene 
 of Julian. They have represented him as furious, 
 blaspheming, despairing, and in his despair ex- 
 claiming, Thou hast conquered, Galilean, 
 'vevLKT]Ka<; TaXiXale ' ! This phrase, though false 
 as history, has a truth in it. It contains a 
 prophecy, — to us a consoling prophecy, — and it 
 is this : Every Julian — i. e. , every great and 
 powerful man — who would attempt to resuscitate 
 a state of society which has died, will infallibly 
 be vanquished by the Galilean, — for the Galilean 
 is nothing less than the genius of the future ! " 
 
 Father's tongvie has just given utterance to a Letter to 
 thought which has been very visibly radiating from Henneii, 
 his eager eyes for some minutes, — "I thought you 
 were going on with the book. " I can only bless 
 you for those two notes, which have emanated 
 from you like so much ambrosial scent from roses 
 and lavender. Not less am I grateful for the 
 Carlyle eulogium. ^ I have shed some quite deli- 
 cious tears over it. This is a world worth abiding 
 in while one man can thus venerate and love 
 another. More anon, — this from my doleful 
 prison of stupidity and barrenness, with a yawn- 
 
 1 On Emerson. 
 
 VOL I. — 10 
 
 Dec. 1848
 
 146 
 
 Francis Newman. 
 
 [foleshilt,, 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Hennell, 
 Dec. 1848. 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Hennell, 
 end of 1848. 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Hsnnell, 
 Jan. 1849. 
 
 ing trap-door ready to let me down into utter 
 fatuity. But I can even yet feel the omnipotence 
 of a glorious chord. Poor pebble as I am, left 
 entangled among slimy weeds, I can yet hear from 
 afar the rushing of the blessed torrent, and rejoice 
 that it is there to bathe and brighten other pebbles 
 less unworthy of the polishing. 
 
 Thank you for a sight of our blessed St. Francis 's ^ 
 letter. There is no imaginable moment in which 
 the thought of such a being could be an intrusion. 
 His soul is a blessed yea. There is a sort of blas- 
 phemy in that proverbial phrase, " Too good to be 
 true. " The highest inspiration of the purest, 
 noblest human soul is the nearest expression of 
 the truth. Those extinct volcanoes of one's spirit- 
 ual life — those eruptions of the intellect and the 
 passions which have scattered the lava of doubt 
 and negation over our early faith — are only a 
 glorious Himalayan chain, beneath which new 
 valleys of undreamed richness and 
 spread themselves. Shall we poor 
 have sublimer thoughts than the 
 
 beauty will 
 
 earthworms 
 
 universe, of 
 
 which we are poor chips, — mere effluvia of mind, 
 — shall we have sublimer thoughts than that uni- 
 verse can furnish out into reality ? I am living 
 unspeakable moments, and can write no more. 
 
 I think of you perpetually, but my thoughts are 
 all aqueous; they will not crystallise, — they are 
 as fleeting as ripples on the sea. I am sufiering 
 perhaps as acutely as ever I did in my life. 
 Breathe a wish that I may gather strength, — the 
 fragrance of your wish will reach me somehow. 
 
 The next letter is to Mrs. Houghton, who, 
 it will be remembered, was the only daughter 
 1 Francis Newman.
 
 1849.] Contrition for Evil Speaking. 147 
 
 by Mr. Evans's first marriage. Miss Evans 
 had more intellectual sympathy with this half- 
 sister Fanny than with any of the other mem- 
 bers of her family, and it is a pity that more 
 of the letters to her have not been preserved. 
 I have been holding a court of conscience, and I Letter to 
 cannot enjoy my Sunday's music without restoring ?Jn%^ndiy 
 harmony, without entering a protest against that Tm?^' 
 superficial soul of mine which is perpetually con- 
 tradicting and belying the true inner soul. I am 
 in that mood which, in another age of the world, 
 would have led me to put on sackcloth and pour 
 ashes on my head, when I call to mind the sins of 
 my tongue, — my animadversions on the faults of 
 others, as if I thought myself to be something 
 when I am nothing. When shall I attain to the 
 true spirit of love which Paul has taught for all 
 the ages ? I want no one to excuse me, dear 
 Fanny, — I only want to remove the shadow of my 
 miserable words and deeds from before the divine 
 image of truth and goodness, which I would have 
 all beings worship. I need the Jesuits' discipline 
 of silence, and though my " evil speaking " issues 
 from the intellectual point of view rather than 
 the moral, — though there may be gall in the 
 thought while there is honey in the feeling, yet 
 the evil speaking is wrong. We may satirise 
 character and qualities in the abstract without 
 injury to our moral nature, but persons hardly 
 ever. Poor hints and sketches of souls as we 
 are, — with some slight transient vision of the 
 perfect and the true, — we had need help each 
 other to gaze at the blessed heavens instead of 
 peering into each other's eyes to find out the 
 motes there.
 
 148 
 
 Bodily Suffering. 
 
 [foleshill, 
 
 Letter to 
 
 Miss Sara 
 
 Heunell, 
 
 Suuday 
 
 morning, 
 
 4th Feb. 
 
 1849. 
 
 I have not touched the piano for nearly two 
 months until this morning, when, father being 
 better, I was determined to play a mass before the 
 piano is utterly out of tune again. Write, asking 
 for notlmig again, like a true disciple of Jesus. I 
 am still feeling rather shattered in brain and 
 limbs, but do not suppose that I lack inward 
 peace and strength. My body is the defaulter, — 
 consciously so. I triumph over all things in the 
 spirit, but the flesh is weak, and disgraces itself 
 by headaches and backaches. I am delighted to 
 find that you mention Macaulay, because that is 
 an indication that Mr. Hennell has been reading 
 him. I thought of Mr. H. all through the book, 
 as the only person I could be quite sure would 
 enjoy it as much as I did myself. I did not know 
 if it would interest you : tell me more explicitly 
 that it does. Think of Babylon being unearthed 
 in spite of the prophecies ? Truly we are looking 
 before and after, " au jour d'aujourd'hui," as 
 Monsieur Bricolin says. Send me the criticism 
 of Jacques the morn's morning, — only beware 
 there are not too many blasphemies against my 
 divinity. 
 
 Paint soap-bubbles, — and never fear but I will 
 find a meaning, though very likely not your mean- 
 ing. Paint the crucifixion in a bubble, — after 
 Turner, — and then the resurrection : I see them 
 now. 
 
 There has been a vulgar man sitting by while I 
 have been writing, and I have been saying paren- 
 thetical bits of civility to him to help out poor 
 father in his conversation, so I have not been quite 
 sure what I have been saying to you. I have woful 
 aches which take up half my nervous strength.
 
 1849.] Rousseau. 149 
 
 My life is a perpetual nightmare, and always Letter to 
 haunted by something to be done, which I have Henueu^gth 
 never the time, or rather the energy, to do. ^^^' ^^^' 
 Opportunity is kind, but only to the industrious, 
 and I, alas ! am not one of them. I have sat 
 down in desperation this evening, though dear 
 father is very uneasy, and his moans distract me, 
 just to tell you that you have full absolution for 
 your criticism, which I do not reckon of the im- 
 pertinent order. I wish you thoroughly to under- 
 stand that the writers who have most profoundly 
 iniiuenced me, — who have rolled away the waters 
 from their bed, raised new mountains and spread 
 delicious valleys for me, ■ — are not in the least 
 oracles to me. It is just possible that I may not 
 embrace one of their opinions, — that I may wish 
 my life to be shaped quite differently from theirs. 
 For instance, it would signify nothing to mi' if a 
 very wise person were to stun me with proofs that 
 Rousseau's views of life, religion, and government 
 are miserably erroneous, — that he was guilty of 
 some of the worst hnssesscs that have degraded 
 civilised man. I might admit all this : and it 
 would be not the less true that Eousseau's genius 
 has sent that electric thrill through my intellect- 
 ual and moral frame which has awakened me to 
 new perceptions, — which has made man and 
 nature a fresh world of thought and feeling to 
 me ; and this not by teaching me any new belief. 
 It is simply that the rushing mighty wind of his 
 inspiration has so quickened my faculties that I 
 have been able to shape more definitely for myself 
 ideas whicli had previously dwelt as dim Ahmmgen 
 in my soul ; the fire of his genius has so fused 
 together old thoughts and prejudices, that I have 
 been ready to make new combinations.
 
 150 Infiuence of Geofge Sand, [folf.siiill, 
 
 Letter to It IS thus witli GeoigG Sand. I should never 
 
 Henu!u?9th dream of going to her writings as a moral code or 
 Feb. 1849. text-book. Idon't care whether I agree with her 
 about marriage or not, — whether I think the 
 design of her plot correct, or that she had no pre- 
 cise design at all, but began to write as the spirit 
 moved her, and trusted to Providence for the ca- 
 tastrophe, which I think the more probable case. 
 It is sufficient for me, as a reason for bowing before 
 her in eternal gratitude to that " great power of 
 God manifested in her," that I cannot read six 
 pages of hers without feeling that it is given to 
 her to delineate human passion and its results and 
 (I must say, in spite of your judgment) some of 
 the moral instincts and their tendencies, with 
 such truthfulness, such nicety of discrimination, 
 such tragic power, and withal, such loving, gentle 
 humour, that one might live a century with noth- 
 ing but one's own dull faculties, and not know so 
 much as those six pages will suggest. The psycho- 
 logical anatomy of Jacques and Fernande in the early 
 days of their marriage seems quite preternaturally 
 true, — I mean that her power of describing it is 
 preternatural. Fernande and Jacques are merely 
 the feminine and the masculine nature, and their 
 early married life an every-day tragedy ; but I will 
 not dilate on the book or on your criticism, for I 
 am so sleepy that I should write nothing but 
 hetises. I have at last the most delightful " De 
 Imitatione Christi," with quaint woodcuts. One 
 breathes a cool air as of cloisters in the book, — it 
 makes one long to be a saint for a few months. 
 Verily its piety has its foundations in the depth of 
 the divine-human soul. 
 
 In March Miss Evans wrote a short notice of
 
 1849.] Reviews the " Nemesis of Faith." 151 
 
 the " Nemesis of Taith " for the " Coventry 
 
 Herald," in which she says : — 
 
 " We are sure that its author is a bright particular 
 
 star, though he sometimes leaves us in doubt 
 
 whether he be not a fallen ' son of the morning.' " 
 
 The paper was sent to Mr. Froude, and on 
 
 23d March Mrs. Bray writes to Miss Hennell : 
 
 "Last night at dusk M. A. came running in 
 
 in high glee with a most charming note from 
 
 Troude, nai'vely and prettily requesting her to 
 
 reveal herself. He says he recognised her hand 
 
 in the review in the ' Coventry Herald,' and if 
 
 she thinks him a fallen star she might help him 
 
 to rise, but he ' believes he has only been dipped 
 
 in the Styx, and is not much the worse for the 
 
 bath.' Poor girl, I am so pleased she should 
 
 have this little episode in her dull life." 
 
 The next letter again refers to Mr. Froude's 
 books. 
 Tell me not that I am a mere prater, — that feel- Letter to 
 ing never talks. I will talk, and caress, and look Hennefir 
 lovingly, until death makes me as stony as the Aprli^^im' 
 Gorgon-like heads of all the judicious people I 
 know. What is anything worth until it is uttered ? 
 Is not the universe one great utterance ? Utterance 
 there must be in word or deed to make life of any 
 worth. Every true pentecost is a gift of utterance. 
 Life is too short and opportunities too meagre for 
 many deeds ; besides, the best friendships are pre- 
 cisely those where there is no possibility of material 
 helpfulness, — and I would take no deeds as an 
 adequate compensation for the frigid glassy eye and 
 hard indifferent tones of one's very solid and sen- 
 sible and conscientious friend. You will wonder of 
 what this is apropos, — only of a little bitterness in
 
 152 Froude^s " Shadows of the Clouds." [foleshill, 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Henuell, 
 Wednesday, 
 AprU, 1849. 
 
 my own soul just at this moment, and not of any- 
 thing between you and me. I have nothing to tell 
 you, for all the " haps " of my life are so indifferent. 
 I spin my existence so entirely out of myself that 
 there is a sad want of proper names in my conversa- 
 tion, and I am becoming a greater bore than ever. 
 It is a consciousness of this that has kept me from 
 writing to you. My letters v/ould be a sort of her- 
 mit's diary. I have so liked the thought of your 
 enjoying the "Nemesis of Faith." I quote Keats's 
 sonnet apropos of that book. It has made me feel — ■ 
 
 " Like some watcher of the skies 
 When a new planet swims into his ken ; 
 Or like stout Cortez — when with eagle eyes 
 He stared at the Pacific, and all his men 
 Look'd at each other with a wild surmise, — 
 Silent, upon a peak in Darien." 
 
 You must read " The Shadows of the Clouds." It 
 produces a sort of palpitation that one hardly knows 
 whether to call wretched or delightful. I cannot 
 take up the book again, though wanting very much 
 to read it more closely. Poor and shallow as one's 
 own soul is, it is blessed to think that a sort of 
 transubstantiation is possible by which the greater 
 ones can live in us. Egotism apart, anotlier's great- 
 ness, beauty, or bliss is one's own. And let us sing 
 a Magnificat when we are conscious that this power 
 of expansion and sympathy is growing, just in pro- 
 portion as the individual satisfactions are lessening. 
 Miserable dust of the earth we are, but it is worth 
 while to be so, for the sake of the living soul, — the 
 breath of God within us. You see I can do nothing 
 but scribble my own prosy stuff, — such chopped 
 straw as my soul is foddered on. I am translating 
 the " Tractatus Theologico-Politicus " of Spinoza, and
 
 1849,] Consolations of Nursing. 153 
 
 seem to want the only friend that knows how to Letter to 
 praise or blame. How exquisite is the satisfaction He^iLei™ 
 of feeling that another mind than your own sees Aprir.^msL 
 precisely where and what is the difficulty, — and 
 can exactly appreciate the success with which it is 
 overcome. One knows — sed longo iiitei^vallo — 
 the full meaning of the '* fit audience though few." 
 How an artist must hate the noodles that stare at 
 his picture, with a vague notion that it is a clever 
 thing to be able to paint ! 
 
 I know it will gladden your heart to hear that Letter to 
 father spoke of you the other day with affection and loth May7' 
 gratitude. He remembers you as one who helped ^^^' 
 to strengthen that beautiful spirit of resignation 
 which has never left him through his long trial. 
 His mind is as clear and rational as ever, notwith- 
 standing his feebleness, and lie gives me a thousand 
 little proofs that he understands my affection and 
 responds to it. These are very precious moments to 
 me ; my chair by father's bedside is a very blessed 
 seat to me. My delight in the idea that you are 
 being benefited after all, prevents me from regret- 
 ting you, tliough you are just the friend that would 
 complete my comfort. Every addition to your 
 power of enjoying life is an expansion of mine. I 
 partake of your ebb and flow. I am going to my 
 post now. I have just snatched an interval to let 
 you know that though you have taken away a part 
 of yourself from me, neither you nor any one else 
 can take the whole. 
 
 It will have been seen from these late letters, 
 that the last few months of her father's illness 
 had been a terrible strain on his daughter's 
 health and spirits. She did all the nursing her- 
 self, and Mrs. Congreve (who was then Miss Bury,
 
 154 
 
 End of Father's Illness, [foleshill, 
 
 Letter to 
 the Brays, 
 half-past 
 nine, 
 
 Wednesday 
 morning, 
 31 St May, 
 18i9. 
 
 daughter of the doctor who was attending Mr- 
 Evans, — and who, it will be seen, subsequently 
 became perhaps the most intimate and the 
 closest of George Eliot's friends) tells me that 
 her father told her at the time, that he never 
 saw a patient more admirably and thoroughly 
 cared for. The translating was a great relief 
 when she could get to it. Under date of 19th 
 April, 1849, Mrs. Bray writes to Miss Hennell : 
 " M. A. is happy now with this Spinoza to do : 
 she says it is such a rest for her mind." 
 
 The next letter to Rosehill pathetically de- 
 scribes how the end came at last to Mr. Evans's 
 sufferings : — 
 Dear friends, Mr. Bury told us last night that he 
 thought father would not last till morning. I sat 
 by him with my hand in his till four o'clock, and he 
 then became quieter and has had some comfortable 
 sleep. He is obviously weaker this morning, and 
 has been for the last two or three days so painfully 
 reduced that I dread to think what his dear frame 
 may become before life gives way. My brother 
 slept here last night, and will be here again to- 
 night. What shall I be without my father ? It 
 will seem as if a part of my moral nature were 
 gone. I write when I can, but I do not know 
 whether my letter will do to send this evening. 
 
 P. S. — Father is very, very much weaker this 
 evening. 
 
 Mr. Evans died during that night, 31st May 
 1849.
 
 1849.] Summary of CluipUr III. 155 
 
 SUMMARY. 
 
 MAT, 18i6, TO MAT, 1849. 
 
 Visit to Mrs. Hennell at Hackney — Letters to Mrs. Bray — 
 Strauss Translation published — Visit to Dover with father — 
 Classical books wanted — Pleasure in Strauss's letter — Brays 
 suspect novel-writing — Letters to Miss Sara Hennell — Good 
 spirits — Wicksteed's review of the Strauss Translation — Read- 
 ing Foster's life — Visit to Griff — Child's view of God (apropos 
 of Miss Hennell's " Heliados ") — Visit to London — " Elijah " — 
 Likes London less — The Sibree family and Mrs. John Cash's 
 reminiscences — Letter to Miss Mary Sibree — Letters to Miss 
 Sara Hennell — Mental depression — Opinion of Charles Hennell's 
 " Liquiry " — Visit to the Isle of Wight with father — Admiration 
 of Richardson — Blanco White — Delight in George Sand's 
 " Lettres d'un Voyageur " — Letters to Mr. John Sibree — Opinion 
 of Mrs. Hannah More's letters — " Tancred," " Coningsby," and 
 " Sybil " — D'Israeli's theory of races — Gentile nature kicks 
 against superiority of Jews — Bows only to the supremacy of 
 Hebrew poetry — Superiority of music among tlie arts — Relation 
 of religion to art — Thorwaldsen's Christ — Admiration of Roberts 
 and Creswick — The intellect and moral nature restrain the pas- 
 sions and senses — Mr. Dawson the Lecturer — Satisfaction in 
 French Revolution of '48 — The men of the ban-icade bowing to 
 the image of Christ — Difference between French and English 
 working-classes — The need of utterance — Sympathy with Mr. 
 Sibree in religious difficulties — Longing for a high attic in 
 Geneva — Letters to Miss Sara Hennell — Views on correspond- 
 ence — Mental depression — Father's illness — Father better — 
 Goes with him to St. Leonards — Letter to Charles Bray — De- 
 pression to be overcome by thought and love — Admiration of 
 Louis Blanc — Recovery from depression — "Jane Eyre" — Return 
 to Coventry — Meets Emerson — Strauss's pamphlet on Julian the 
 Apostate — Carlyle's eulogium on Emerson — Francis Xewman 
 — Suffering from depression — Letter to Mrs. Houghton — Self- 
 condemnation for evil speaking — Letters to Miss Hennell — 
 Macaulay's History — On the influence of George Sand's and 
 Rousseau's writing — Writes review of the " Nemesis of Faith " for 
 the " Coventry Herald " — Opinion of the " Nemesis " and the 
 "Shadows of the Clouds" — Translating Spinoza's "Tractatus 
 Theologico-Politicus " — Letter to Mrs. Pears — The consolations 
 of nursing — Strain of father's illness — Father's death.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 It fortunately happened that the Brays had 
 planned a trip to the Continent for this month 
 of June, 1849, and Miss Evans, being left deso- 
 late by the death of her father, accepted their 
 invitation to join them. On the 11th June they 
 started, going by way of Paris, Lyons, Avignon, 
 Marseilles, Nice, Genoa, Milan, Como, Lago 
 Maggiore, Martigny, and Chamounix, arriving 
 at Geneva in the third week of July. Here 
 Miss Evans determined to remain for some 
 months, the Brays returning home. Before they 
 went, however, they helped her to settle herself 
 comfortably en pension, and, as will be seen 
 from the following letters, the next eight months 
 were quietly and peacefully happy. The pension 
 selected in the first instance was the Cam- 
 pagne Plongeon, which stands on a slight emi- 
 nence a few hundred yards back from the road 
 on the route d'Hermance, some ten minutes' 
 walk from the Hotel Mdtropole. From the 
 Hotel National on the Quai de Mont Blanc one 
 catches a pleasant glimpse of it nestling among 
 its trees. A good-sized gleaming white house, 
 with a centre and gables at each side, — a flight 
 of steps leading from the middle window to the 
 ground. A meadow in front, nicely planted, 
 slopes charmingly down to the 1)1ug lake; and 
 behind the house, on tlie left-hand side, there is 
 an avenue of remarkalily fine chestnut-trees,
 
 [1849.] Continental Trip with Brays. 157 
 
 whence there is a magnificent view of the Jura 
 mountains on the opposite side of the lake. 
 The road to Geneva is very beautiful by the 
 lake-side, bordered with plane-trees. It was a 
 delightful, soothing change after the long illness 
 and the painful death of her father, — after the 
 monotonous dulness, too, of an English provin- 
 cial town like Coventry, where there is little 
 beauty of any sort to gladden the soul. In the 
 first months following a great loss it is good to 
 be alone for a time, — alone especially amidst 
 beautiful scenes, — and alone in the sense of 
 being removed from habitual associations, but 
 yet constantly in the society of new acquaint- 
 ances, who are sufficiently mteresting, but not 
 too intimate. The Swiss correspondence which 
 follows is chiefly addressed to the Brays collec- 
 tively, and describes the life minutely. 
 About my comfort here, I find no disagreeables. Letter to tha 
 and have every pliysical comfort that I cave about, juf/.'^im'^ 
 The family seems well-ordered and happy. I have 
 made another friend too, — an elderly English lady, 
 a Mrs. Locke, who used to live at Eyde, — a pretty 
 old lady, with plenty of shrewdness and knowledge 
 of the world. She began to say very kind things 
 to me in rather a waspish tone yesterday morning 
 at breakfast. I liked her better at dinner and tea, 
 and to-day we are quite confidential. I only hope 
 she will stay, — she is just the sort of person I shall 
 like to have to speak to, — not at all " congenial," 
 but with a character of her own. The going down 
 to tea bores me, and I shall get out of it as soon 
 as I can, unless I can manage to have the news- 
 papers to read. The American lady embroiders 
 slippers, — the mamma looks on and does nothing.
 
 158 Acquaintances at [geneva, 
 
 Letter to the The Marquis and his friends play at whist; the 
 j^y^im^ old ladies sew; and Madame says things so true 
 that they are insufferable. She is obliged to talk 
 to all, and cap their niaiseries with some suitable 
 observation. She has been very kind and motherly 
 to me. I like her better every time I see her. I 
 have quiet and comfort, — what more can I want 
 to make me a healthy reasonable being once more ? 
 I will never go near a friend again until I can bring 
 joy and peace in my heart and in my face, — but 
 remember that friendship will be easy then. 
 Letter to the I hops my imagination paints truly when it 
 Aug^^isw*! shows me all of you seated with beaming faces 
 round the tea-table at Kosehill, I shall be yearn- 
 ing to know that things as well as people are 
 smiling on you ; but I am sure you will not let 
 me wait for news of you longer than is necessary. 
 My life here would be delightful if we could always 
 keep the same set of people ; but alas ! I fear one 
 generation will so and another come so fast that I 
 shall not care to become acquainted with any of 
 them. My good Mrs. Locke is not going, that is 
 one comfort. She is quite a mother to me, — helps 
 me to buy my candles and do all my shopping, — 
 takes care of me at dinner, and quite rejoices when 
 she sees me enjoy conversation or anything else. 
 The St. Germains are delightful people, — the Mar- 
 quise really seems to me the most charming person 
 I ever saw, with kindness enough to make the ultra- 
 politeness of her manners quite genuine. She is 
 very good to me, and says of me, " Je m'interesse 
 vivement h, Mademoiselle." The Marquis is the 
 most well-bred, harmless of men. He talks very 
 little, — every sentence seems a terrible gestation, 
 and comes forth fortissimo ; but he generally be-
 
 1S49.] Campagiic Ploiigeon. 159 
 
 stows one on me, and seems especially to enjoy my Letter to the 
 poor tunes (mind you, all these trivialities are to Aug^ is^y.' 
 satisfy your vanity, not mine, — because you are 
 beginning to be ashamed of having loved me). 
 The grey-headed gentleman got quite fond of 
 talking philosophy with me before he went; but 
 alas ! he and a very agreeable young man who was 
 with him are gone to Aix les Bains. The young 
 German is the Baron de H. I should think he 
 is not more than two or three and twenty, very 
 good-natured, but a most determined enemy to all 
 gallantry. I fancy he is a Communist; but he 
 seems to have been joked about his opinions by 
 Madame and the rest, until he has determined to 
 keep a proud silence on such matters. He has 
 begun to talk to me, and I think we should become 
 good friends ; but he, too, is gone on an expedition 
 to Monte Eosa. He is expecting his brother to 
 join him here on his return, but I fear they will 
 not stay long. The gouvernante is a German, with 
 a moral region that would rejoice Mr. Bray's eyes. 
 Poor soul, she is in a land of strangers, and often 
 seems to feel her loneliness. Her situation is a 
 very difficult one ; and " die Angst," she says, often 
 brings on a pain at her heart. Madame is a 
 woman of some reading and considerable talent, — 
 very fond of politics, a devourer of the journals, 
 with an opinion ready for you on any subject what- 
 ever. It will be a serious loss to her to part with 
 the St. Germain family. I fear that they will not 
 stay longer than this month. I should be quite 
 indifferent to the world that comes or goes if once I 
 had my boxes with all my books. Last Sunday I 
 went with Madame to a small church near Plon- 
 geon, and I could easily have fancied myself in an
 
 160 Genevese Preachers. [geneva, 
 
 Letter to the Independent chapel at home. The spirit of the 
 
 Aug^^i&ia. sermon was not a whit more elevated than that of 
 
 our friend Dr. Harris, — the text, " What shall I do 
 
 to be saved ? " — the answer of Jesus being blinked 
 
 as usual. 
 
 To-day I have been to hear one of the most cele- 
 brated preachers, M. Meunier. His sermon was 
 really eloquent, — all written down, but delivered 
 with so much energy and feeling that you never 
 thou"ht of the book. It is curious to notice how 
 patriotism — cUvovxment a la patrie — is put in the 
 sermons as the first of virtues, even before devotion 
 to the Church. We never hear of it in England 
 after we leave school. The good Marquis goes with 
 his family and servants, all nicely drest, to the 
 Catholic Church. They are a most orderly set of 
 people : there is nothing but their language and 
 their geniality and politeness to distinguish them 
 from one of the best of our English aristocratic 
 families. I am perfectly comfortable : every one is 
 kind to me and seems to like me. Your kind 
 hearts will rejoice at this, I know. Only remember 
 that I am just as much interested in all that hap- 
 pens to you at Eosehill as you are in what happens 
 to me at Plongeon. Pray that the motto of Geneva 
 may become mine, — " Post tenehras lux." 
 Letter to the ^ havc uo head for writing to-day, for I have 
 AMg''is49.'' ^^^^"^ keeping my bed for the last three days ; but I 
 must remember that writing to you is like ringing a 
 bell hung in the planet Jupiter, — it is so weary a 
 while before one's letters reach. I have been posi- 
 tively sickening for want of my boxes, and anxiety 
 to hear of my relations. Your kind letter of this 
 morning has quieted the latter a little ; but my 
 boxes, alas ! have not appeared. Do not be alarmed
 
 1849.] Life at Campagne Plongeon. 161 
 
 about my health. 1 have only had a terrible head- Letter tothe 
 ache, — prolonged, in fact, by the assiduities of the AugrisHg. 
 good people here ; for the tirst day I lay in bed I 
 had the whole female world of Plongeon in my bed- 
 room, and talked so incessantly that I was unable to 
 sleep after it : the consequence, as you may imagine, 
 was that the next day I was very much worse ; but 
 I am getting better, and indeed it was worth while 
 to be ill to have so many kind attentions. There is 
 a fresh German family from Frankfurt here just 
 now, — Madame Cornelius and her children. She is 
 the daughter of the richest banker in Frankfurt, 
 and, what is better, full of heart and mind, with a 
 face that tells you so before she opens her lips. She 
 has more reading than the Marquise, being German 
 and Protestant ; and it is a real refreshment to talk 
 with her for half an hour. The dear Marquise is 
 a truly devout Catholic. It is beautiful to hear her 
 speak of the comfort she has in the confessional, — 
 for our tetes-a-tete have lately turned on religious 
 matters. She says I am in a " mauvaise voie sous 
 le rapport de la religion. Peut-etre vous vous 
 marierez, et le mariage, chfere aniie, sans la foi 
 religieuse ! . . . " She says I have isolated myself 
 by my studies, — that I am too cold and have too 
 little confidence in the feelings of others towards 
 me, — that I do not believe how deep an interest she 
 has conceived in my lot. She says Signer Goldrini 
 (the young Italian who was here for a week) told 
 her, when he had been talking to me one evening, 
 " Vous aimerez cette demoiselle, j'eii suis sur " — 
 and she has found his prediction true. They are 
 leaving for their own country on Wednesday. She 
 hopes I shall go to Italy and see her ; and when I 
 tell her that I have no faith that she will remember 
 
 VOL. I, 11.
 
 1G2 Life at Campagne Plongeon. [geneva, 
 
 Letter to the me long enough for me to venture on pavinsf her a 
 
 Brays, 20th ••,•<> -T ^ i -, -.- , i. J b 
 
 Aug. 1849. visit it ever 1 should go to Italy again, she shakes 
 her head at my incredulity. She was born at 
 Genoa. Her father was three years Sardinian 
 Minister at Constantinople before she was married, 
 
 and she speaks with enthusiasm of her life there, 
 
 " C'est la le pays de la vraie podsie oii Ton sent ce 
 que c'est que de vivre par le coeur." M. de H. is 
 returned from Monte Eosa. He would be a nice 
 person if he had another soul added to the one he 
 has by nature, — the soul that comes by sorrow and 
 love. I stole his book while he was gone, — the 
 first volume of Louis Blanc's "History of Ten 
 Years." It contains a very interesting account of 
 the three days of July, 1830. His brother is com- 
 ing to join him, so I hope he will not go at present. 
 Tell Miss Sibree my address, and beg her to write 
 to me all about herself, and to write on thin 
 paper. I hardly know yet whether I shall like 
 this place well enough to stay here through the 
 winter. I have been under the disadvantage of 
 wanting all on which I chiefly depend, — my 
 books, &c. Wlien I have been here another 
 month, I shall be better able to judge. I hope you 
 managed to get in the black velvet dress. The 
 people dress, and think about dressing, here more 
 even than in England. You would not know me 
 if you saw me. The Marquise took on her the 
 office of fcmmc de chambre and drest my hair one 
 day. She has abolished all my curls, and made 
 two things stick out on each side of my head like 
 those on the head of the Sphinx. All the world 
 says I look infinitely better ; so I comply, though 
 to myself I seem uglier ' than ever, — if possible. 
 I am fidgeted to death about my boxes, and that
 
 i849.] Life, at Campagnc Plongeon. 163 
 
 tiresome man not to acknowledge the receipt of Letter to the 
 
 them. I make no apology for wriiing all my Aug^/ma. 
 
 peevishness and follies, because I want you to do 
 
 the same, — to let me know everything about you, 
 
 to the aching of your fingers, — and you tell me 
 
 very little. My boxes, my boxes ! I dream of 
 
 them night and day. Dear Mr. Hennell ! Give 
 
 him my heartiest affectionate remembrances. Tell 
 
 him I find no one here so spirited as he: there 
 
 are no better jokes going than I can make myself. 
 
 Mrs. Hennell and Mrs. C. Hennell too, all are 
 
 remembered, — if even I have only seen them in 
 
 England. 
 
 Mme. de Ludwigsdorff, the wife of an Austrian Letter to the 
 baron, has been here for two days, and is coming Aug. im 
 again. She is handsome, spirited, and clever, — 
 pure English by birth, but quite foreign in man- 
 ners and appearance. She, and all the world 
 besides, are going to winter in Italy. Nothing 
 annoys me now, — I feel perfectly at home, and 
 shall really be comfortable when I have all my 
 little matters about me. This place looks more 
 lovely to me every day, — the lake, the town, the 
 campagnes with their stately trees and pretty 
 houses, the glorious mountains in the distance ; 
 one can hardly believe one's self on earth : one 
 might live here and fore;et that there is such a 
 thing as want or labour or sorrow. The perpetual 
 presence of all this beauty has somewhat the effect 
 of mesmerism or chloroform. I feel sometimes as 
 if I were sinking into an agreeable state of numb- 
 ness on the verge of unconsciousness, and seem to 
 want well pinching to rouse me. The other day 
 (Sunday) there was a //iJe held on the lake, — the 
 fete of Navigation. I went out with some other
 
 164 Chameleov^like Nature. [geneva, 
 
 Letter tothe ladiGS in M. de H.'s boat at sunset, and had the 
 Augri849. richest draught of beauty. All tlie boats of Geneva 
 turned out in their best attire. When the moon 
 and stars came out, there were beautiful fireworks 
 sent up from the boats. The mingling of the sil- 
 ver and the golden rays on the rippled lake, the 
 bright colours of the boats, the music, the splendid 
 fireworks, and the pale moon looking at it all with 
 a sort of grave surprise, made up a scene of perfect 
 enchantment, — and our dear old Mont Blanc was 
 there in his white ermine robe. I rowed all the 
 time, and hence comes my palsy. I can perfectly 
 fancy dear Mrs. Pears in her Leamington house. 
 How beautiful all that Foleshill life looks now, 
 like the distant Jura in the morning ! She was 
 such a sweet, dear, good friend to me. My walks 
 with her, my little visits to them in the evening, — 
 all is remembered. I am glad you have seen 
 Fanny again; any attention you show her is a 
 real kindness to me, and I assure you she is worth 
 it. You know, or you do not know, that my 
 nature is so chameleon-like, I shall lose all my 
 identity unless you keep nourishing the old self 
 with letters, — so, pray, write as much and as 
 often as you can. It jumps admirably with my 
 humour to live in two worlds at once in this way. 
 I possess my dearest friends and my old environ- 
 ment in my thoughts, — and another world of 
 novelty and beauty in which I am actually mov- 
 ing, — and my contrariety of disposition always 
 makes the world thnt lives in my thoughts the 
 dearer of the two, — the one in which I more truly 
 dwell. So, after all, I enjoy my friends most when 
 I am away from them. I shall not say so, though, 
 if I should live to rejoin you six or seven months
 
 1849.] Anxiety about Friends at Home. 165 
 
 hence. Keep me for seven ^ years longer and you 
 will find out the use of me, like all other pieces of 
 trumpery. 
 
 Have I confided too much in your generosity in Letter to 
 supposing that you would write to me first? or is tJ,'i%u°"^'*' 
 there some other reason for your silence ? I suffer ^'"p*" ^^^' 
 greatly from it, — not entirely from selfish reasons, 
 but in great part because I am really anxious to 
 know all about you, your state of health and spirits 
 — the aspect of things within and without you. 
 Did Mr. Bray convey to you my earnest request 
 that you would write to me ? You know of my 
 whereabouts and circumstances from my good friends 
 at Kosehill, so that I have little to tell you, — at 
 least I have not spirit to write of myself until I 
 have heard from you, and have an assurance from 
 yourself that you yet care about me. Sara (Mrs. 
 Isaac Evans) has sent me word of the sad, sad loss 
 that has befallen poor Chrissey and Edward, — a 
 loss in which I feel that I have a share ; for that 
 angelic little being had great interest for me, — she 
 promised to pay so well for any care spent on her. 
 I can imagine poor Edward's almost frantic grief, 
 and I dread the effect on Chrissey's weak frame of 
 her more silent suffering. Anything you can tell me 
 about them will be read very eagerly. I begin to 
 feel the full value of a letter, — so much so, that if 
 ever I am convinced that any one has the least 
 anxiety to hear from me, I shall always reckon it 
 amongst the first duties to sit down without delay, 
 giving no ear to the suggestions of my idleness and 
 aversion to letter-writing. Indeed I am beginning 
 
 ^ It ma}^ be noted as a curious verification of this presentiment 
 that " Scenes of Clerical Life " were published in 1856, — just seven 
 years later.
 
 166 Effect of Change of Life. [geneva. 
 
 Letter to to find it really pleasant to write to my friends, now 
 ton%fh "^'^' that I am so far away from them ; and I could soon 
 Sept. 1849. ijij ^ sheet to you if your silence did not weigh too 
 heavily on my heart. My health is by no means 
 good yet, — seldom good enough not to be a sort of 
 drag on my mind ; so you must make full allow- 
 ance for too much egotism and susceptibility in me. 
 It seems to be three years instead of three months 
 since I was in England and amongst you, and I 
 imagine that all sorts of revolutions must have taken 
 place in the interim ; whereas to you, I daresay, re- 
 maining in your old home and among your every- 
 day duties, the time has slipped away so rapidly 
 that you are unable to understand my anxiety to 
 hear from you. I think the climate here is not 
 particularly healthy, — I suppose from the vicinity 
 of the lake, which, however, becomes so dear to me 
 that one cannot bear to hear it accused. Good-bye, 
 dear Fanny ; a thousand blessings to you whether 
 you write to me or not, and much gratitude if you 
 do. 
 Letter to the My boxcs arrived last Friday. The expense was 
 SeTis49.^ ^i"- 150, — perfectly horrible! Clearly I must give 
 myself for food to the fowls of the air or the fishes 
 of the lake. It is a consolation to a mind imbued 
 with a lofty philosophy, that when one can get 
 nothing to eat, one can still be eaten, — the evil is 
 only apparent. It is quite settled that I cannot 
 stay at Plongeon ; I must move into town. But, 
 alas ! I must pay fr. 200 per month. If I were 
 there, I should see more conversable people than 
 here. Do you think any one would buy my 
 " Encyclopsedia Britannica " at half-price, and my 
 globes ? If so, I should not be afraid of exceeding 
 my means, and I should have a little money to pay
 
 1849.] Letters from Brother and Sisters. 167 
 
 for mv piano, and for some lessons of different Letter tothe 
 
 ■■ T ,1 mi T-. 1 T • Brays, 13th 
 
 kinds that I want to take, ine Jincyclopaiaia is sept. i84a. 
 the last edition, and cost £42, and the globes 
 £8 10s. 1 shall never have anywhere to put them, 
 so it is folly to keep them if any one will buy 
 them. No one else has written to me, though I 
 have written to almost all. I would rather have 
 it so than feel that the debt was on my side. When 
 will you come to me for help, that I may be able to 
 hate you a little less ? I shall leave here as soon as 
 I am able to come to a decision, as I am anxious 
 to feel settled, and the weather is becoming cold. 
 This house is like a bird-cage set down in a garden. 
 Do not count this among my letters. I am good 
 for nothing to-day, and can write nothing well but 
 bitterness, so that I will not trust myself to say 
 another word. The Baronne de Ludwigsdorff seems 
 to have begun to like me very much, and is really 
 kind ; so you see heaven sends kind souls, though 
 they are by no means kindred ones. Poor Mrs. 
 Locke is to write to me, — has given me a little ring, 
 — says, "Take care of yourself, my child, — have some 
 tea of your own, — you '11 be quite another person if 
 you get some introductions to clever people, — you 11 
 get on well among a certain set, — that 's true ; " it 
 is her way to say " that 's true " after all her affir- 
 mations. She says, "You won't find any kindred 
 spirits at Plongeon, my dear." 
 
 I am feeliniT particularly happy because I have Letter to the 
 
 , -, -, . 1 T I. 1 ^1 J • i. Brays, '20th 
 
 had very kind letters from my brother and sisters, sept. mg. 
 I am ashamed to fill sheets about myself, but I 
 imagined that this was precisely what you wished. 
 Pray correct my mistake, if it be one, and then I 
 will look over the Calvin MSS. and give you some 
 information of really general interest, suited to our
 
 168 Madame Ludwigsdorff. [geneva, 
 
 Letter to the mutual capacities- Mme. Ludwigsdorff is so good 
 
 Brays, 20th , , . " ° 
 
 Sept. 1849. to me, — a charming creature, — so anxious to see me 
 comfortably settled, — x^etting me in all sorts of ways. 
 She sends me tea when I wake in the mornius, 
 orange-flower water when I go to bed, — grapes, — 
 and her maid to wait on me. She says if I like 
 she will spend the winter after this at Paris with 
 me, and introduce me to her friends there ; but she 
 does not mean to attach herself to me, because I 
 shall never like her long. I shall be tired of her 
 when I have sifted her, &c. She says I have more 
 intellect than morale^ and other things more true 
 than agreeable ; however, she is " greatly interested " 
 in me, — has told me her troubles and her feelings, 
 she says, in spite of herself ; for she has never been 
 able before in her life to say so much even to her 
 old friends. It is a mystery she cannot unravel. 
 She is a person of high culture, according to the 
 ordinary notions of what feminine culture should 
 be. She speaks French and German perfectly, 
 plays well, and has the most perfect polish of man- 
 ner, — the most thorough refinement both socially 
 and morally. She is tall and handsome, — a striking- 
 looking person, but with a sweet feminine expression 
 when she is with those she likes, — dresses exqui- 
 sitely, — in fine, is all that I am not. I shall tire you 
 with all this, but I want you to know what good 
 creatures there are here as elsewhere. Miss F. tells 
 me that the first day she sat by my side at dinner, 
 she looked at me, and thought to herself, " That is a 
 grave lady ; I do not think T shall like her much ; " 
 but as soon as I spoke to her, and she looked into 
 my eyes, she felt she could love me. Then she lent 
 me a book written by her cousin — a religious novel 
 • — in wdiich there is a fearful infidel who will not
 
 1849.] Ortliodox Friends. 169 
 
 believe, and hates all who do, &c., &c. Then she Letter tothe 
 invited me to walk with her, and came to talk in my tlllS^ 
 room ; then invited me to go to the Oratoire with 
 them, till I began to be uncomfortable under the 
 idea that they fancied I was evangelical, and that I 
 was gaining their affection under false pretences ; so 
 I told Miss F. that I was going to sacrifice her good 
 opinion, and confess my heresies. I quite expected 
 from their manner and character that they would 
 forsake me in horror, — but they are as kind as ever. 
 They never go into the salon in the evening, and I 
 have almost forsaken it, spending the evening fre- 
 quently in Mme. de Ludwigsdorffs room, where we 
 have some deliohtful tea. The tea of the house 
 here is execrable ; or rather, as Mrs. A. says, " How 
 glad we ought to be that it lias no taste at all, — it 
 might have a very bad one ! " I like the A's. ; they 
 are very good-natured. Mrs. A., a very ugly but 
 ladylike little woman, who is under an infatuation 
 " as it regards " her caps, — always wearing the bright- 
 est rose-colour or intensest blue, — with a complexion 
 not unlike a dirty primrose glove. The rest of the 
 people are nothing to me, except, indeed, dear old 
 Mile. Faizan, who comes into my room when I am 
 ill with " Qu'est ce que vous avez, ma bonne ? " in 
 the tone of the kindest old aunt, and thinks that I 
 am the most amiable douce creature, which will 
 give you a better opinion of her charity than her 
 penetration. 
 
 Dear creatures ! no one is so good as you yet. I 
 have not yet found any one who can bear com- 
 parison with you ; not in kindness to me, — ca va 
 sans dire, — but in solidity of mind and in expan- 
 sion of feeling. This is a very coarse thing to say, 
 but it came to the end of my pen, and litera scripta
 
 170 Old Friends. [geneva, 
 
 Letter to the mauet, — at least when it comes at the end of the 
 seprmg!" second page. I shall certainly stay at Geneva this 
 winter, and shall return to England as early as the 
 spring weather will permit, always supposing that 
 nothing occurs to alter my plans. I am still thin ; 
 so how much will be left of me next April I am 
 afraid to imagine. I shall be length without 
 breadth. Cara's assurance that you are well and 
 comfortable is worth a luncheon to me, which is 
 just the thing I am generally most in want of, for 
 we dine at six now. I love to imagine you in your 
 home ; and everything seems easy to me when I 
 am not disturbed about the health or well-being of 
 my loved ones. It is really so ; I do not say it out 
 of any sort of affectation, benevolent or otherwise. 
 I am without carefulness, alas ! in more senses than 
 one. Thank Sara very heartily for her letter. I 
 do not write a special sheet for her to-day, because 
 I have to write to two or three other people, but 
 she must not the less believe how I valued a little 
 private morsel from her ; and also that I would 
 always rather she wrote "from herself" than "to 
 me, " — that is my theory of letter- writing. Your 
 letters are as welcome as Elijah's ravens, — I 
 thought of saying the dinner-bell, only that would 
 be too gross ! I get impatient at the end of the ten 
 days which it takes for our letters to go to and fro ; 
 and I have not the least faith in the necessity for 
 keeping the sheet three or four days before Mr. 
 Bray can find time to write his meagre bit. If you 
 see the Miss Franklins, give my love to them ; my 
 remembrances to Mr. and Mrs. Wliittem ; love to 
 Miss Sibree always. Hearty love to Clapton ^ and 
 Woodford ; ^ and a very diffusive benevolence to the 
 
 1 Mrs. Ilennoll. 2 ]\rr j^,„] ^[rs. Charles ITcnnell.
 
 1849.] Need of Encouragement. 171 
 
 world in general, without any particular attachment 
 to A. or B. I am trying to please Mr. Bray. Good- 
 bye, dear souls. Dominus vobiscum. 
 
 I am anxious for you to know my new address. Letter to 
 as I shall leave here on Tuesday. I think I have ThufJday,' 
 at last found the very thing. I shall be the only tm *"*■ 
 lodger. The airpartement is assez joli, with an 
 alcove, so that it looks like a sitting-room in the 
 daytime, — the people, an artist of great respect- 
 ability, and his wife, a most kind-looking ladylike 
 person, with two boys, who have the air of being 
 well educated. They seem very anxious to have 
 me, and are ready to do anything to accommodate 
 me. I shall live with them, — that is, dine with 
 them ; breakfast in my own room. The terms are 
 fr. 150 per month, Light included. M. and Mme. 
 D'Albert are middle-aged, — musical, and, I am 
 told, have heaucoup d' esjjrit. I hope this will not 
 exceed my means for four or five months. There 
 is a nice large salon and a good salle a inanger. I 
 am told that their society is very good. Mme. de 
 Ludwigsdorff was about going there a year ago, and 
 it was she who recommended it to me. 
 
 I hope Sara's fears are supererogatory, — a proof 
 of a too nervous solicitude about me, for which I 
 am grateful, though it does me no good to hear of 
 it. I want encouraging rather than warning and 
 checking. I believe 1 am so constituted that I shall 
 never be cured of my faults except by God's disci- 
 pline. If human beings would but believe it, they 
 do me most good by saying to me the kindest 
 things truth will permit ; and really I cannot hope 
 those will be superlatively kind. The reason I 
 wished to raise a little extra money is that I 
 wanted to have some lessons and other means of
 
 172 Mademoiselle Faizan. [geneva, 
 
 Letter to cultuie, — not for my daily bread, for which I hope 
 Thufs^dJy,' I shall have enough ; but since you think my 
 ms."^' scheme impracticable, we will dismiss it. Au 
 reste, be in no anxiety about me. Nothing is go- 
 ing wrons that I know of. I am not an absolute 
 fool and weakling. When I am fairly settled in 
 my new home, I will write again. My address will 
 be — M. D'Albert, Rue des Chanoines, No. 107. 
 Letter to The blesscd compensation there is in all things 
 
 ^n%«i°"^''' made your letter doubly precious for having been 
 Oct. 18-19. waited for, and it would have inspired me to write 
 to you again much sooner, but that I have been in 
 uncertainty about settling myself for the winter, 
 and I wished to send you my future address. I am 
 to move to my new home on Tuesday the 9tli. I 
 shall not at all regret leaving here ; the season is 
 beginning to be rather sombre, though the glorious 
 chestnuts here are still worth looking at half the 
 day. You have heard of some of the people whom 
 I have described in my letters to Rosehill. The 
 dear little old maid. Mile. Faizan, is quite a good 
 friend to me, — extremely prosy, and full of tiny 
 details ; but really people of that calibre are a com- 
 fort to one occasionally, when one has not strength 
 enough for more stimulating things. She is a 
 sample of those happy souls who ask for nothing 
 but the work of the hour, however trivial, — who 
 are contented to live without knowing whether 
 they effect anything, but who do really effect much 
 good, simply by their calm and even maintien. I 
 laugh to hear her spy in a tone of remonstrance, — 
 " Mme. de Ludwigsdorff dit qu'elle s'ennuie quand 
 les soirees sont longues : moi, je ne conpois pas 
 comment on pent s'ennuyer quand on a de I'ou- 
 vrage ou des Jeux ou de la conversation." When
 
 1849.] Tlie B'Alherts' Household. 173 
 
 people who are dressing elegantly and driving Letter to 
 about to make calls every day of their life have ton^th"^ 
 been telling me of their troubles, — their utter ^^^' ^^^ 
 hopelessness of ever finding a vein worth working 
 in their future life, — my thoughts have turned 
 towards many whose sufferings are of a more 
 tangible character, and I have really felt all the 
 old commonplaces about the equality of human 
 destinies, always excepting those spiritual differ- 
 ences which are apart not only from poverty and 
 riches but from individual affections. Dear Chris- 
 sey has found time and strength to write to me, and 
 very precious her letter was, though I wept over it. 
 " Deep abiding grief must be mine," she says, and I 
 know v/ell it must be. The mystery of trial ! It 
 falls with such avalanche weight on the head of the 
 meek and patient. I wish I could do something of 
 more avail for my friends than love them and long 
 for their happiness. 
 
 M. and Mme. D 'Albert are really clever people. Letter to the 
 — people worth sitting up an hour longer to talk oct ik9. 
 to. This does not hinder Madame from being an 
 excellent manager, — dressing scrupulously, and 
 keeping her servants in order. She has hung my 
 room with pictures, one of which is the most 
 beautiful group of flowers conceivable thrown on an 
 open Bible, — painted by herself. I have a piano 
 which I hire. There is also one in the salon. 
 M. D 'Albert plays and sings, and in the winter he 
 tells me they have parties to sing masses and do 
 other delightful things. In fact, I think I am 
 just in the right place. I breakfast in my own 
 room at half-past eight, lunch at half-past twelve, 
 and dine at four or a little after, and take tea at 
 eight. From the tea-table I have gone into the
 
 174 M. D' Albert. [geneva, 
 
 Letter to the saloTi and cliatted until bedtime. It would really 
 Octfi»49. have been a pity to have stayed at Plongeon, out 
 of reach of everything, and with people so little 
 worth talking to. I have not found out the 
 desagremens here yet. It is raining horribly, but 
 this just saves me from the regret I should have 
 felt at having quitted the chestnuts of Plongeon. 
 That campagne looked splendid in its autumn 
 dress. 
 
 George Eliot retained so warm an admiration 
 and love for M. D 'Albert to the end of her life, 
 that it seems fitting here to mention that he 
 still lives, carrying well the weight of eighty 
 winters. He is conservateur of the Ath^nde, — 
 a permanent exhibition of works of art in 
 Geneva ; and he published only last year (1883) 
 a French translation of the " Scenes of Clerical 
 Life, " having already previously published 
 translations of " Adam Bede, " " The Mill on the 
 Floss, " " Silas Marner, " and " Ptomola. " The 
 description of his personal appearance, in the 
 following letter, still holds good, save that the 
 grey hair has become quite white. He lost 
 his wife in 1880 ; and it will be seen from sub- 
 sequent letters that George Eliot kept up a 
 faithful attachment to her to the end. They 
 were both friends after her own heart. The 
 old apartment is now No. 18 instead of No. 
 107 Eue des Chanoines, and is occupied as the 
 printing-office of the " Journal de Genfeve. " But 
 half of the rooms remain just as they were 
 five-and-thirty years ago : the salon, wainscoted 
 in imitation light-oak panels, with a white 
 China stove, and her bedroom opening off it, — 
 as she had often described it to me ; and M.
 
 1849.] 3f. D' Albert. 175 
 
 D 'Albert has still in his possession the paint- 
 ing of the bunch of beautiful flowers thrown on 
 an open Bible mentioned in the last letter. 
 He told me that when Miss Evans first came 
 to look at the house, she was so horrified with 
 the forbidding aspect of the stairs, that she 
 declared she would not go up above the first 
 floor ; but when she got inside the door she was 
 reconciled to her new quarters. Calvin's house 
 is close to the Eue des Chanoines, and she was 
 much interested in it. It will be seen that she 
 did some work in physics under Professor de la 
 Eive ; but she principally rested and enjoyed 
 herself during the stay at Geneva. It was 
 exactly the kind of life she was in need of at 
 the time, and the letters show how much she 
 appreciated it. 
 I languished for your letter before it came, and Letter to the 
 read it three times running, — judge whether I octrms.*'' 
 care less for you than of old. It is the best of 
 blessings to know that you are well and cheerful ; 
 and when I think of all that might happen in a 
 fortnight to make you otherwise, especially in 
 these days of cholera and crises, I cannot help 
 being anxious until I get a fresh assurance that at 
 least five days ago all was well. Before I say any- 
 thing about myself, I must contradict your sus- 
 picion that I paint things too agreeably for the 
 sake of giving you pleasure. I assure you my 
 letters are subjectively true, — the falsehood, if 
 there be any, is in my manner of seeing things. 
 But I will give you some verites positives, in which, 
 alas ! poor imagination has hitherto been able to 
 do little for the world. Mrae. D 'Albert antici- 
 pates all my wants, and makes a spoiled child of
 
 176 M. and Mme. D' Albert. [geneva, 
 
 Letter to the me. I like these dear people better and better, 
 oafi849.^^ — everything is so in harmony with one's moral 
 feeling, that I really can almost say I never en- 
 joyed a more complete hien e'tre in my life than 
 during the last furtnight. For M. D 'Albert, I 
 love him already as if he were father and brother 
 both. His face is rather haggard-looking, but all 
 the lines and the wavy grey hair indicate the tem- 
 perament of the artist. I have not heard a word 
 or seen a gesture of his yet that was not perfectly 
 in harmony with an exquisite moral refinement^ — 
 indeed one feels a better person always when he is 
 present. He sings well, and plays on the piano a 
 little. It is delightful to hear him talk of his 
 friends, — he admires them so genuinely, — one 
 sees so clearly that there is no reflex egotism. 
 His conversation is charming. I learn something 
 every dinner-time. Mme. D 'Albert has less of 
 genius and more of cleverness, — a really ladylike 
 person, who says everything well. She brings up 
 her children admirably, — two nice intelligent 
 boys,i — the youngest particularly has a sort of 
 Lamartine expression, with a fine head. It is so 
 delightful to get among people who exhibit no 
 meannesses, no worldlinesses, that one may well be 
 enthusiastic. To me it is so blessed to fiud any 
 departure from the rule of giving as little as 
 possible for as much as possible. Their whole 
 behaviour to me is as if I were a guest whom they 
 delighted to honour. Last night we had a little 
 knot of their most intimate musical friends, and 
 
 ^ Mr. Charles Lewes tells me that when he went to stay with 
 the D'Alberts at Geneva, many years afterwards, they mentioned 
 how much they had been strucl^ by her extraordinary discernment 
 of the character of these two boys.
 
 1849.] Home Bememhrances. 177 
 
 M. and Mme. D 'Albert introduced me to them as Letter to 
 if they wished me to know them, — as if they mu^oX' 
 wished me to like their friends and their friends ^^^' 
 to like me. The p'eople and the evening would 
 have been just after your own hearts. In fact, I 
 have not the slightest pretext fur being discon- 
 tented, — not the shadow of a discomfort. Even 
 the little housemaid Jeanne is charming, — says 
 to me every morning, in the prettiest voice : 
 " Madame a-t-elle bieu dormi cette nuit? " — puts 
 fire in my chauffe-picd without being told, — 
 cleans my rooms most conscientiously. There, — 
 I promise to weary you less for the future with ray 
 descriptions. I could not resist the temptation to 
 speak gratefully of M. and Mme. D 'Albert. 
 
 Give my love to Mrs. Pears, — my constant ever 
 fresh remembrance. My love to Miss Eebecca 
 Franklin, — tell her I have only spun my web to 
 Geneva, — it will infallibly carry me back again 
 across the gulf, were it twice as great. If Mr. 
 Froude preached the new word at Manchester, I 
 hope he will preach it so as to do without an after 
 explanation, and not bewilder his hearers in the 
 manner of Mephistopheles when he dons the 
 doctor's gown of Faust. I congratulate you on 
 the new edition,^ and promise to read it with a 
 disposition to admire when I am at Kosehill once 
 more. I am beginning to lose respect for the 
 petty acumen that sees difficulties. I love the 
 souls that rush along to their goal with a full 
 stream of sentiment, — that have too much of the 
 positive to be harassed by the perpetual negatives, 
 — which, after all, are but the disease of the 
 
 1 " Philosophy of Necessity," by Charles Bray. 
 
 VOL. I. — 12
 
 178 
 
 Delight in Town Life. 
 
 [GENEVA, 
 
 Letter to the 
 Brays, 26th 
 Oct. 1849. 
 
 Letter to 
 the Brays, 
 28th Oct. 
 1849. 
 
 Letter to 
 Mi3S Sara 
 Heiinell, 
 28th Oct. 
 1849. 
 
 soul, to be expelled by fortifying the principle of 
 vitality. 
 
 Good-bye, dear loves : sha'n't I kiss you when I 
 am in England again, — in England ! I already 
 begin to think of the journey as an impossibility. 
 Geneva is so beautiful now, the trees have their 
 richest colouring. Coventry is a fool to it, — but 
 then you are at Coventry, and you are better than 
 lake, trees, and mountains. 
 
 We have had some delicious autumn days here. 
 If the fine weather last, I am going up the Sal eve 
 on Sunday with M. D 'Albert. On one side I shall 
 have a magnificent view of the lake, the town, 
 and the Jura; on the other, the range of Mont 
 Blanc. The walks about Geneva are perfectly 
 enchanting. " Ah ! " says poor Mile. Faizan ; 
 " nous avons un beau pays si nous n'avions pas ces 
 Eadicaux! " The election of the Conseil d'Etat is 
 to take place in November, and an emeute is 
 expected. The actual Government is Eadical, and 
 thoroughly detested by all the " respectable 
 classes. The Vice-President of the Conseil, and 
 the virtual head of the Government, is an unprin- 
 cipled clever fellow, horribly in debt himself, and 
 on the way to reduce the Government to the same 
 position. 
 
 I like my town life vastly. I shall like it still 
 better in the winter. There is an indescribable 
 charm to me in this form of human nest-making. 
 You enter a by no means attractive-looking house, 
 you climb up two or three flights of cold, dark- 
 looking stone steps, you ring at a very modest 
 door, and you enter a set of rooms snug or com- 
 fortable or elegant. One is so out of reach of 
 intruders, so undiverted from one's occupations by
 
 1849.] Spinoza Translation. 179 
 
 externals, so free from cold rushing winds through Letter to 
 hall doors, — one feels in a downy nest high up in Henueu? 
 a good old tree. I have always had a hankering tu^i. 
 after this sort of life, and I find it was a true 
 instinct of what would suit me. Just opposite 
 my windows is the street in which the Sisters of 
 Charity live; and if I look out, I generally see 
 either one of them or a sober-looking ecclesiastic. 
 Then a walk of five minutes takes me out of all 
 streets, within sight of beauties that I am sure 
 you too would love, if you did not share my 
 enthusiasm for the town. I have not another 
 minute, having promised to go out before dinner, 
 — so, dearest, take my letter as a hasty kiss, just 
 to let you know how constantly I love you, — 
 how, the longer I live and the more I have felt, 
 the better I know how to value you. 
 
 I write at once to answer your questions about Letter to 
 business. Spinoza and I have been divorced for Br^y.^lth 
 several months. My want of health has obliged ^^''" '^^^' 
 me to renounce all application. I take walks, 
 play on the piano, read Voltaire, talk to my 
 friends, and just take a dose of mathematics every 
 day to prevent my brain from becoming quite soft. 
 If you are anxious to publish the translation in 
 question, I could, after a few months, finish the 
 " Tractatus Theologico-Politicus " to keep it com- 
 pany ; but I confess to you that I think you would 
 do better to abstain from printing a translation. 
 What is wanted in English is not a translation of 
 Spinoza's works, but a true estimate of his life 
 and system. After one has rendered his Latin 
 faithfully into English, one feels that there is 
 another yet more difficult process of translation 
 for the reader to effect, and that the only mode of
 
 180 
 
 Affection for the D' Alberts. [geneva, 
 
 Letter to 
 Cliarles 
 Bray, 4th 
 Dec. 1S49. 
 
 Letter to 
 Mrs. Bray, 
 4tli Dec. 
 1849, 
 
 making Spinoza accessible to a larger number is 
 to study his books, then shut them, and give an 
 analysis. For those who read the very words 
 Spinoza wrote, there is the same sort of interest 
 in his style as in the conversation of a person of 
 great capacity who has led a solitary life, and who 
 says from his own soul what all the world is say- 
 ing by rote ; but this interest hardly belongs to a 
 translation. 
 
 Your letter is very sweet to me, giving me a 
 picture of your quiet life. How shall I enable you 
 to imagine mine, since you know nothing of the 
 localities ? My good friends here only change for 
 the better. Mme. D 'Albert is all affection; M. 
 D'Albert all delicacy and intelligence; the friends 
 to whom they have introduced me very kind in 
 their attentions. In fact, I want nothing but a 
 little more money to feel more at ease about my 
 fires, &c. I am in an atmosphere of love and 
 refinement ; even the little servant Jeanne seems 
 to love me, and does me good every time she 
 comes into the room. I can say anything to M. 
 and Mme. D'Albert. M. D'A. understands every- 
 thing, and if Madame does not understand, she 
 believes, — that is, she seems always sure that I 
 mean something edifying. She kisses me like a 
 mother, and I am baby enough to find that a great 
 addition to my happiness. Au reste, I am careful 
 for nothing; I am a sort of supernumerary spoon, 
 and there will be no damage to the set if I am 
 lost. My heart ties are not loosened by distance, 
 ■ — it is not in the nature of ties to be so; and 
 when I think of my loved ones as those to whom 
 I can be a comforter, a help, I long to be with 
 them again. Otherwise, I can only think with a
 
 18d0.] Christmas Wishes. 181 
 
 shudder of returning to England. It looks to me Letter to 
 like a land of gloom, of emiui, of platitude ; but 4ti?ber^' 
 in the midst of all this it is the land of duty and ^^^' 
 affection, and the only ardent hope I have for my 
 future life is to have given to me some woman's 
 Juty, — some possibility of devoting myself where 
 I may see a daily result of pure calm blessedness 
 in the life of another. 
 
 How do you look? I hope that landcau of Letter to 
 silvery locks is not widening too fast on the head Henu<>n?\h 
 I love so well, — that the eyes are as bright as ^^^' ■^^^" 
 ever. Your letter tells me they will beam as 
 kindly as ever when I see them once more. Never 
 make apologies about your letters, or your words, 
 or anything else. It is your soul to which I am 
 wedded ; and do I not know too well how the soul 
 is doubly belied, — first by the impossibility of 
 being in word and act as great, as loving, as good 
 as it wills to be, and again by the miserable weak- 
 nesses of the friends who see the words and acts 
 through all sorts of mists raised by their own pas- 
 sions and preoccupations ? In all these matters I 
 am the chief of sinners, and I am tempted to 
 rejoice in the offences of my friends, because they 
 make me feel less humiliation. I am quite satis- 
 fied to be at Geneva instead of Paris ; in fact, I 
 am becoming passionately attached to the moun- 
 tains, the lake, the streets, my own room, and, 
 above all, the dear people with whom I live. 
 
 A thousand Christmas pleasures and blessings to Letter to the 
 you, — good resolutions and bright hopes for the Decrim 
 New Year! Amen. People who can't be witty 
 exert themselves to be pious or affectionate. 
 Henceforth I tell you nothing whatever about my- 
 self ; for if I speak of agreeables, and say I am con-
 
 182 Professeur de la Hive's Lectures, [geneva, 
 
 Letter to the tented, Mr. Bray writes me word that you are all 
 Decri849. trying to forget me. If I were to tell you of dis- 
 agreeables and privations and sadness, Sara would 
 write : " If you are unhappy now, you will be so 
 d, fortiori ten years hence. " Now, since I have a 
 decided objection to doses sent by post which upset 
 one's digestion for a fortnight, I am determined to 
 give you no pretext for sending them. You shall 
 not know whether I am well or ill, contented or 
 discontented, warm or cold, fat or thin. But 
 remember that I am so far from being of the same 
 mind as Mr. Bray, that good news of you is neces- 
 sary to my comfort. I walk more briskly, and 
 jump out of bed more promptly, after a letter that 
 tells me you are well and comfortable, that busi- 
 ness is promising, that men begin to speak well of 
 you, &c. " I am comforted in your comfort, " as 
 saith St. Paul to the troublesome Corinthians. 
 When one is cabined, cribbed, confined in one's 
 self, it is good to be enlarged in one's friends. 
 Good Mr. Marshall ! We wish to keep even un- 
 amiable people when death calls for them, much 
 more good souls like him. I am glad he had had 
 one more pleasant visit to Cara for her to think of. 
 Dear Sara's letter is very charming, — not at all 
 physicky, — rather an agreeable draught of vin 
 Sucre. Dear Mr, Hennell, we shall never look 
 upon his like. 
 
 I am attending a course of lectures on Experi- 
 mental Physics by M. le Professeur de la Pave, the 
 inventor, amongst other things, of the electroplat- 
 ing. The lectures occur every Wednesday and 
 Saturday. It is time for me to go. I am dis- 
 tressed to send you this shabby last fragment of 
 paper, and to write in such a hurry, but the days
 
 1850.] Severe Winter. 183 
 
 are really only two hours long, and I have so Letter to 
 many things to do that I go to bed every night LdDecr* 
 miserable because I have left out something I ^^^' 
 meant to do. Good-bye, dear souls. Forget me 
 if you like, you cannot oblige me to forget you; 
 and the active is worth twice of the passive all 
 the world over! The earth is covered with snow, 
 and the Government is levelling the fortifications. 
 
 You leave me a long time without news of you, Lettertothe 
 though I told you they were necessary as a coun- ja^: isl!^ 
 teractive to the horrors of this terrible winter. 
 Are you really so occupied as to have absolutely 
 no time to think of me ? I console myself, at 
 least to-day, now we have a blue sky once more 
 after two months of mist, with thinking that I am 
 excluded by pleasanter ideas, — that at least you 
 are well and comfortable, and I ought to content 
 myself with that. The fact is, I am much of 
 Touchstone's mind, — in respect my life is at 
 Geneva, I like it very well, but in respect it is 
 not with you, it is a very vile life. I have no 
 5'earnings to exchange lake and mountains for 
 Bishop Street and the Kadford Fields, but I have 
 a great yearning to kiss you all and talk to you for 
 three days running. I do not think it will be 
 possible for me to undertake the journey before 
 the end of March. I look forward to it with great 
 dread. I see myself looking utterly miserable, 
 ready to leave all my luggage behind me at Paris 
 for the sake of escaping the trouble of it. We 
 have had Alboni here, — a very fat siren. There 
 has been some capital acting of comedies by friends 
 of M. D 'Albert, — one of them is superior to any 
 professional actor of comedy I have ever seen. He 
 reads vaudevilles so marvellously that one seems
 
 Feb. 1850. 
 
 184 Yearning for Old Friends. [gekeva, 
 
 to have a whole troupe of actors before one in his 
 single person. He is a handsome man of fifty, 
 full of wit and talent, and he married about a year 
 ago. 
 Letter to It is ono of the provoking contrarieties of destiny 
 
 ton/'juT"^^' that I should have written my croaking letter 
 when your own kind consolatory one was on its 
 way to me. I have been happier ever since it 
 came. After mourning two or three months over 
 Chrissey's account of your troubles, I can only 
 dwell on that part of your letter which tells that 
 there is a little more blue in your sky, — that you 
 have faith in the coming Spring. Shall you be as 
 "lad to see me as to hear the cuckoo ? I mean to 
 return to England as soon as the Jura is passable 
 without sledges, — probably the end of March or 
 beginning of April. I have a little Heimweh " as 
 it regards " my friends. I yearn to see those I 
 have loved the longest, but I shall feel real grief 
 at parting from the excellent people with whom I 
 am living. I feel they are m.y friends, — without 
 entering into or even knowing the greater part 
 of my views, they understand my character, and 
 have a real interest in me. I have infinite ten- 
 derness from Mme. D 'Albert. I call her always 
 " maman ; " and she is just the creature one loves 
 to lean on and be petted by. In fact, I am too 
 much indulged, and shall go back to England as 
 undisciplined as ever. This terribly severe winter 
 has been a drawback on my recovering my strength. 
 I have lost whole weeks from headache, &c. , but 
 I am certainly better now than when I came to 
 Mme. D 'Albert. You tell me to give you these 
 details, so I obey. Decidedly England is the 
 most comfortable country to be in in winter, — at
 
 1850,] Snow on the Jura. 185 
 
 least for all except those who are rich enough to Letter to 
 buy English comforts everywhere. I liate myself tont^tifFeU. 
 for caring about carpets, easy-chairs, and coal tires, ^^^' 
 ■ — one's soul is under a curse, and can preach no 
 truth while one is in bondage to the liesh in this 
 way ; but alas ! habit is the purgatory in which 
 we suffer for our past sins. I hear much music. 
 We have a reunion of musical friends every 
 Monday For the rest I have refused soirees, 
 which are as stupid and unprofitable at Geneva as 
 in England. I save all more interesting details, 
 that I may have them to tell you when I am with 
 you. I am going now to a seance on Experimental 
 Physics by the celebrated Professor de la Eive. 
 This letter will at least convince you that I am 
 not eaten up by wolves, as they have been fearing 
 at Rosehill. The English papers tell of wolves 
 descending from the Jura and devouring the in- 
 habitants of the villages, but we have been in 
 happy ignorance of these editors' horrors. 
 
 If you saw the Jura to-day! The snow reveals Letter to^th* 
 its forests, ravines, and precipices, and it stands Feb. iWo. 
 in relief against a pure blue sky. The snow is on 
 the mountains only now, and one is tempted to 
 walk all day, particularly when one lies in bed 
 till ten, as your exemplary friend sometimes does. 
 I have had no discipline, and shall return to you 
 more of a spoiled child than ever. Indeed I think 
 I am destined to be so to the end, — one of the 
 odious swarm of voracious caterpillars, soon to be 
 swept away from the earth by a tempest. I am 
 getting better bodily. I have much less headache, 
 but the least excitement fatigues me. Certainly if 
 one cannot have a malady to carry one off rapidly, 
 the only sensible thing is to get well and fat; and
 
 186 Portrait ly M. D' Albert. [geneva, 
 
 Letter to the I belie ve I shall be driven to that alternative. 
 
 Febrim You know that George Sand writes for the theatre ? 
 Her " FranQois le Champi, — une Comddie, " is 
 simplicity and purity itself. The seven devils 
 are cast out. We are going to have more acting 
 here on Wednesday. M. Chancel's talent makes 
 Maman's soirees quite brilliant. You will be 
 amused to hear that I am sitting for my portrait, 
 — at M. D'Albert's request, not mine. If it turns 
 out well, I shall long to steal it to give to you ; 
 but M. D 'Albert talks of painting a second, and 
 in that case I shall certainly beg one. The idea 
 of making a study of my visage is droll enough. 
 I have the kindest possible letters from my brother 
 and sisters, promising me the warmest welcome. 
 This helps to give me courage for the journey; but 
 the strongest magnet of all is a certain little group 
 of three persons whom I hope to find together at 
 Rosehill. Something has been said of M. D 'Albert 
 accompanying me to Paris. I am saddened when 
 I think of all the horrible anxieties of trade. If 
 I had children, I would make them carpenters and 
 shoemakers ; that is the way to make them Mes- 
 siahs and Jacob Boehms. As for us who are 
 dependent on carpets and easy-chairs, we are repro- 
 bates, and shall never enter into the kingdom of 
 heaven. I go to the Genevese churches every 
 Sunday, and nourish my heterodoxy with orthodox 
 sermons. However, there are some clever men 
 here in the Church, and I am fortunate in being 
 here at a time when the very cleverest is giving a 
 series of conferences. I think I have never told 
 you that we have a long German lad of seventeen 
 in the house, — 'the most taciturn and awkward of 
 lads. He said very naively, when I reproached
 
 1850.] Last Days at Geneva. 187 
 
 him for not talking to a German young lady at 
 a soiree, when he was seated next her at table, 
 " Je ne savais que faire de mes jambes. " They 
 had placed the poor garcon against one of those 
 card-tables, — all legs, like himself. 
 
 The weather is so glorious that I think I may Lettertothe 
 set out on my journey soon after the 15th. I am March, Vsso. 
 not quite certain yet that M. D 'Albert will not be 
 able to accompany me to Paris ; in any case, a 
 package of so little value will get along safely 
 enough. I am so excited at the idea of the time 
 being so near when I am to leave Geneva, — a real 
 grief, — and see my friends in England, — a per- 
 fectly overwhelming joy, — that I can do nothing. 
 I am frightened to think what an idle wretch I am 
 become. And you all do not write me one word 
 to tell me you long for me. I have a great mind 
 to elope to Constantinople, and never see any one 
 any more ! 
 
 It is with a feeling of regret that we take 
 leave of the pleasant town of Geneva, its lake 
 and mountains, and its agreeable little circle 
 of acquaintance. It was a peacefully happy 
 episode in George Eliot's life, and one she was 
 always fond of recurring to, in our talk, up to 
 the end of her life.
 
 188 Eummary of Chapter IV. [1849-50.J 
 
 SUMMARY. 
 
 JUNE, 1849, TO MARCH, 1850. 
 
 Goes aliroad with Mr. and Mrs. Bray — Geneva — Life at Cam- 
 pagne J^longeon — Letters to Brays describing surroundings — 
 Mrs. Locke — The St. Germain family — Anxiety about her boxes 
 with books, &c. — Hears M. Meuuier preaeli — Patriotism the first 
 of virtues — Mrae. Cornelius — Mme. de Ludwigsdorff — "Fete 
 of >.'avigation " on the lake — Demand for letters — Prophetic 
 anticipation of position seven years later — Wislies to sell some 
 of her books and globes to get music lessons — Letter to Mrs. 
 Houghton — Loss of Mrs. Clarke's child — Love of Lake of Ge- 
 neva — Letters to Brays — Mme. Ludwigsdorff wishes her to 
 spend winter in Paris — Mile. Faizan — Finds apartment in Ge- 
 neva, Xo. 107 Kue des Chanoines, with M. and Mme. D'Albert — 
 Enjoyment of their society — Remarks on translations of Spinoza 
 — Hope of a woman's duty -^ Attachment to Geneva — Yearning 
 for friends at home — Alboni — Private theatricals — Portrait by 
 M. D'Albert — Remarks on education of children — Leaving 
 Geneva.
 
 CHAPTEK V. 
 
 M. D 'Albert and his charge left Geneva 
 towards the middle of March, and as the rail- 
 way was not yet opened all the way to France, 
 they had to cross the Jura in sledges, and suf- 
 fered terribly from the cold. They joined the 
 railway at Tonnerre, and came through Paris, 
 arriving in England on the 23d of March. 
 After a day in London, Miss Evans went 
 straight to her friends at Piosehill, where she 
 stayed for a few days before going on to Griff. 
 It will have been seen that she had set her 
 hopes high on the delights of home-coming, 
 and with her too sensitive, impressionable 
 nature, it is not difficult to understand, with- 
 out attributing blame to any one, that she was 
 pretty sure to be laying up disappointment for 
 herself. All who have had the experience of 
 returning from a bright sunny climate to Eng- 
 land in March will recognise in the next letters 
 the actual presence of the east wind, the leaden 
 sky, the gritty dust, and le spleen. 
 No ; I am not in England, — I am only nearer the Letter to 
 beings I love best. I try to forget all geography, Henneii.end 
 and that I have placed myself irretrievably out of i8r)0,Vom 
 reach of nature's brightest glories and beauties to ^°^^^^ • 
 shiver in a wintry flat. I am unspeakably grate- 
 ful to find these dear creatures looking well and 
 happy, in spite of worldly cares, but your dear
 
 190 Eeturn to England. [rosehill, 
 
 Letter to facG aiid voice are wanting to me. But I must 
 Henuerend walt witli patlencG, and perhaps by the time I 
 18.^'from liave finished my visits to my relations, you will 
 Rose'hui. Ijq ready to come to Kosehill again. I want you 
 to scold me, and make me good. I am idle and 
 naughty, — on ne i^eut i^lus, — sinking into heathen- 
 ish ignorance and woman's frivolity. Eemember, 
 you are one of my guardian angels. 
 Letter to Will you seud the enclosed note to Mrs. C. 
 
 H^nnenr Hcnnell ? I am not quite sure about her direction, 
 A^Siilof but I am anxious to thank her for her kindness in 
 fromGriif.' i^vitina me. Will you also send me an account 
 of Mr. Chapman's prices for lodgers, and if you 
 know anything of other boarding-houses, &c., in 
 London ? Will you tell me what you can ? I am 
 not asking you merely for the sake of giving you 
 trouble. I am really anxious to know. Oh the 
 dismal weather, and the dismal country, and the 
 dismal people. It was some envious demon that 
 drove me across the Jura. However, I am deter- 
 mined to sell everything I possess, except a port- 
 manteau and carpet-bag and the necessary contents, 
 and be a stranger and a foreigner on the earth for 
 evermore. But I must see you first; that is a 
 yearning I still have in spite of disappointments. 
 From Griff she went to stay with her sister, 
 Mrs. Clarke, at Meriden, whence she writes : 
 Letter to Havc you any engagement for the week after next? 
 24th Apru, If not, may I join you on Saturday the 4th, and 
 invite M. D 'Albert to come down on the following 
 Monday? It appears he cannot stay in England 
 longer than until about the second week in May. 
 I am uncomfortable at the idea of burthcning even 
 your friendship with the entertainment of a person 
 purely for my sake. It is indeed the greatest of 
 
 1850
 
 1850.] Mackay's " Progress of the Intellect" 191 
 
 all the great kindnesses you have shown ine. Letter to 
 Write me two or three kind words, dear Cara. I 24th Apru, 
 have been so ill at ease ever since I have been ^^^' 
 in England that I am quite discouraged. Dear 
 Chrissey is generous and sympathising, and really 
 cares for my happiness. 
 
 On the 4th of May Miss Evans went to Eose- 
 hill, and on the 7th M. D 'Albert joined the 
 party for a three days' visit. The strong affec- 
 tion existing between Mr. and Mrs. Bray and 
 their guest, and the more congenial intellectual 
 atmosphere surrounding them, led Miss Evans 
 to make her home practically at Eosehill for 
 the next sixteen months. She stayed there 
 continuously till the 18th November, and, 
 among other things, wrote a review of Mackay's 
 " Progress of the Intellect. " In October Mr. 
 Mackay and Mr. Chapman, who was then nego- 
 tiating for the purchase of the " Westminster 
 Eeview, " came to stay at Eosehill, and there 
 was probably some talk then about her assisting 
 in the editorial work of the " Eeview," but it 
 was not until the following spring that any 
 definite understanding on this subject was 
 arrived at. Meantime the article on Mackay's 
 " Progress of the Intellect " came out in the 
 January, 1851, number of the " Westminster." 
 It contains the following remarkable passages : 
 " Our civilisation, and yet more, our religion, are 
 an anomalous blending of lifeless barbarisms, which 
 have descended to us like so many petrifactions 
 from distant ages, with living ideas, the offspring 
 of a true process of development. We are in 
 bondage to terms and conceptions, which, having 
 had their roots in conditions of thought no longer
 
 192 Reviews Mackay's "Progress of the [kosehill, 
 
 existing, have ceased to possess any vitality, and 
 are for us as spells which have lost their virtue. 
 The endeavour to spread enlightened ideas is per- 
 petually counteracted by these idola theatri, which 
 have allied themselves on the one hand with men's 
 better sentiments, and on the other with institu- 
 tions in whose defence are arrayed the passions 
 and the interests of dominant classes. Now, 
 although the teaching of positive truth is the 
 grand means of expelling error, the process will be 
 very much quickened if the negative argument 
 serve as its pioneer ; if, by a survey of the past, it 
 can be shown how each age and each race has had 
 a faith and a symbolism suited to its need and its 
 stage of development, and that for succeeding ages 
 to dream of retaining the spirit along with the 
 forms of the past, is as futile as the embalming of 
 the dead body in the hope that it may one day be 
 resumed by the living soul. ... It is Mr. Mackay's 
 faith that divine revelation is not contained ex- 
 clusively or pre-eminently in the facts and inspira- 
 tions of any one age or nation, but is co-extensive 
 with the history of human development, and is 
 perpetually unfolding itself to our widened experi- 
 ence and investigation, as firmament upon firma- 
 ment becomes visible to us in proportion to the 
 power and range of our exploring instruments. 
 The master-key to this revelation is the recogni- 
 tion of the presence of undeviating law in the 
 material and moral world, — of that invariability 
 of sequence which is acknowledged to be the basis 
 of physical science, but which is still perversely 
 ignored in our social organisation, our ethics, and 
 our religion. It is this invariability of sequence 
 which can alone give value to experience, and
 
 1851.] Intellect " in the " Westminster." 193 
 
 render education, in the true sense, possible. The 
 divine yea and nay, the seal of prohibition and 
 of sanction, are effectually impressed on human 
 deeds and aspirations, not by means of Greek and 
 Hebrew, but by that inexorable law of conse- 
 quences, whose evidence is confirmed instead of 
 weakened as the ages advance ; and human duty is 
 comprised in the earnest study of this law and 
 patient obedience to its teaching. While this 
 belief sheds a bright beam of promise on the future 
 career of our race, it lights up what once seemed 
 the dreariest region of history with new interest ; 
 every past phase of human development is part of 
 that education of the race in which we are sharing ; 
 every mistake, every absurdity into which poor 
 human nature has fallen, may be looked on as an 
 experiment of which we may reap the benefit. A 
 correct generalisation gives significance to the 
 smallest detail, just as the great inductions of 
 geology demonstrate in every pebble the working 
 of laws by which the earth has become adapted for 
 the habitation of man. In this view, religion and 
 philosophy are not merely conciliated, they are 
 identical ; or rather, religion is the crown and con- 
 summation of philosophy, — the delicate corolla 
 which can only spread out its petals in all their 
 symmetry and brilliance to the sun, when root 
 and branch exhibit the conditions of a healthy and 
 vigorous life. " 
 
 Miss Evans seems to have been in London 
 from the beginning of January till the end of 
 March, 1851; and Mr. Chapman made another 
 fortnight's visit to Eosehill at the end of May 
 and beginning of June. It was during this 
 period that, with Miss Evans's assistance, the 
 
 VOL. ]. — 13
 
 194 Visit to Bishop Steignton. [142 stranjv 
 
 prospectus of the new series of the " Westmviv . 
 ster Review " was determined on and put in 
 shape. At the end of July she went with Mrs. 
 Bray to visit Mr. Edward Noel, at Bishop 
 Steignton, in Devonshire. Mrs. Bray had 
 some slight illness there, and Miss Evans 
 writes : — 
 Letter to I am grieved indeed if anything might have been 
 Heuueu, Written, which has not been written, to allay your 
 i85if"^' anxiety about Cara. Her letter yesterday ex- 
 plained what has been the matter. I knew her 
 own handwriting would be pleasanter to you than 
 any other. I have been talking to her this morn- 
 ing about the going to London or to Eosehill. She 
 seems to prefer London. A glance or two at the 
 Exposition, she thinks, would do her no harm. 
 To-day we are all going to Teignmouth. She 
 seems to like the idea of sitting by the waves. 
 The sun is shining gloriously, and all things are 
 tolerably promising. I am going to walk on before 
 the rest and have a bath. 
 
 They went to London on the 1.3th of August, 
 saw the Crystal Palace, and returned to Rose- 
 hill on the 16th. At the end of that month, 
 Mr. George Combe (the distinguished phrenolo- 
 gist) arrived on a visit, and he and Mrs. Combe 
 became good friends to Miss Evans, as will 
 be seen from the subsequent correspondence. 
 They came on a second visit to Rosehill the 
 following month, — Mr. Chapman being also 
 in the house at the same time, — and at the 
 end of September Miss Evans went to stay with 
 the Chapmans at No. 142 Strand, as a boarder, 
 and as assistant editor of the " Westminster 
 Review. " A new period now opens in George
 
 1851.] Assistant Editor of " Westminster." 195 
 
 Eliot's life, and emphatically the most im- 
 portant period, for now she is to be thrown in 
 contact with Mr. Lewes, who is to exercise so 
 paramount an influence on all her future, with 
 Mr. Herbert Spencer, and with a number of 
 writers then representing the most fearless and 
 advanced thought of the day. Miss Frederica 
 Bremer, the authoress, was also boarding with 
 the Chapmans at this time, as will be seen from 
 the following letters : — 
 Mr. Mackay has been very kind in coming and Letter to the 
 walking out with me, and that is the only variety feprissf."^ 
 I have had. Last night, however, we had an 
 agreeable enough gathering. Foxton ^ came, who, 
 you know, is trying, with Carlyle and others, to 
 get a chapel for Wilson at the West End, — in 
 which he is to figure as a seceding clergyman. I 
 enclose you two notes from Empson (he is the 
 editor of the " Edinburgh Review ") as a guarantee 
 that I have been trying to work. Again, I pro- 
 posed to write a review of Greg for the " Westmin- 
 ster," not for money, but for love of the subject as 
 connected with the " Inquiry. " Mr. Hickson re- 
 ferred the matter to Slack again, and he writes 
 that he shall not have room for it, and that the 
 subject will not suit on this occasion, so you see I 
 am obliged to be idle, and I like it best. I hope 
 Mr. Bray is coming soon to tell me everything 
 about you. I think I shall cry for joy to see him. 
 But do send me a little note on Monday morning. 
 Mrs. Follen called the other day in extreme horror 
 at Miss Martineau's book. 
 
 Dr. Brabant returned to Bath yesterday. He LettertoMr 
 
 "^ •' Bray, end of 
 
 1 Frederick Foxton, author of " Popular Christianity : its Tran- ®^ ' 
 sition State and Probable Development."
 
 196 George Henry Lewes. [142 strand, 
 
 Letter to very politely took me to the Crystal Palace, the 
 end oT^' theatre, and the Overland Koute. On Friday we 
 ^^^' ' had Foxton, Wilson, and some other nice people, 
 among others a Mr. Herbert Spencer, who has just 
 brought out a large work on " Social Statics, " which 
 Lewes pronounces the best book he has seen on the 
 subject. You must see the book if possible. Mr. 
 Chapman is going to send you Miss Martineau's 
 work, or rather Mr. Atkinson 's,i which you must 
 review in the " Herald. " Whatever else one may 
 think of the book, it is certainly the boldest I 
 have seen in the English language. I get nothing 
 done here, there are so many distractions, — more- 
 over I have hardly been well a day since I came. 
 I wish I were rich enough to go to the coast, and 
 have some plunges in the sea to brace me. Never- 
 theless do not suppose that I don't enjoy being 
 here. I like seeing the new people, &c. , and I am 
 afraid I shall think the country rather dull after 
 it. I am in a hurry to-day. I must have two 
 hours' work before dinner; so imagine everything 
 I have not said, or rather reflect that this scrap is 
 quite as much as you deserve after being so slow 
 to write to me. 
 
 The reference, in the above letter, to Mr. 
 Lewes must not be taken as indicating personal 
 acquaintance yet. It is only a quotation of 
 some opinion heard or read. Mr. Lewes had 
 already secured for himself a wide reputation 
 in the literary world by his " Biographical 
 History of Philosophy," his two novels, " Ean- 
 thorpe, " and " Rose, Blanche, and Violet, " — all 
 of which had been published five or six years 
 before, — and his voluminous contributions to 
 
 1 " Man's Nature and Development," by Martineau and Atkinson.
 
 1851.] Article Writers. 197 
 
 the periodical literature of the day. He was 
 also at this time the literary editor of the 
 " Leader " newspaper, so that any criticism of 
 his would carry weight and be talked about. 
 Much has already been written about his extra- 
 ordinary versatility, the variety of his literary 
 productions, his social charms, his talent as a 
 raconteur, and his dramatic faculty ; and it 
 will now be interesting, for those who did not 
 know him personally, to learn the deeper side 
 of his character, which will be seen, in its 
 development, in the following pages. 
 I don't know how long Miss Bremer will stay, but Letter to 
 you need not wish to see her. She is to me equally end or^' 
 unprepossessing to eye and ear. I never saw a ^^'^^' ^^^' 
 person of her years who appealed less to my purely 
 instinctive veneration. I have to reflect every 
 time I look at her that she is really Frederica 
 Bremer. 
 
 Fox is to write the article on the Suffrage, and 
 we are going to try Carlyle for the Peerage, Ward 
 refusing on the ground that he thinks the improve- 
 ment of the physical condition of the people so 
 all-important that he must give all his energies 
 to that. He says, " Life is a bad business, but we 
 must make the best of it; " to which philosophy I 
 say Amen. Dr. Hodgson is gone, and all the fun 
 with him. 
 
 I was introduced to Lewes the other day in 
 Jeff's shop, — a sort of miniature Mirabeau in 
 appearance.^ 
 
 '^ This was a merely formal and casual introduction. That 
 George Eliot was ever brought into close relations with Mr. 
 Lewes was due to Mr. Herbert Spencer having taken him to call 
 on her in the Strand later in this year.
 
 198 Carlijle's " Life of Sterling." [142 strand 
 
 Lettertothe Professoi' Toibes IS to Write us a capital scieu 
 Octf^issi. tific article, whereat I rejoice greatly. The Peerage 
 apparently will not " get itself done, " as Carlyle 
 says. It is not an urgent question, nor does one 
 see that, if the undue influence of the Peers on the 
 elections for the Commons were done away with, 
 there would be much mischief from the House of 
 Lords remaining for some time longer in statu quo. 
 I have been reading Carlyle 's " Life of Sterling" 
 with great pleasure, — not for its presentation 
 of Sterling, but of Carlyle. There are racy bits 
 of description in his best manner, and exquisite 
 touches of feeling. Little rapid characterisations 
 of living men too, — of Francis Newman, for exam- 
 ple, — "a man of fine university and other attain- 
 ments, of the sharpest cutting, and most restlessly 
 advancing intellect, and of the mildest pious en- 
 thusiasm. " There is an inimitable description of 
 Coleridge and his eternal monologue, — " To sit as 
 a passive bucket and be pumped into, whether one 
 like it or not, can in the end be exhilarating to no 
 creature. " 
 Letter to All the world is doing its devoir to the great 
 
 Miss Sara .._ , ,-i,«-. t-v \ x ij_ji 
 
 Henneii, little authorcss {Miss Bremer). I went to the 
 1851, " ' Exhibition on Satnrday to hear the final "God 
 save the Queen " and the three times three, — 
 " C'(^tait uu beau moment. " Mr. Greg thought 
 the review "well done, and in a kindly spirit," 
 but thought there was not much in it, — dread- 
 fully true, since there was only all his book. I 
 think he did not like the apology for his want of 
 theological learning, which, however, was just 
 the thing most needed, for the " Eclectic " trips 
 him up on that score. Carlyle was very amusing 
 the other morning to Mr. Chapman about the
 
 1851.] Mr. Machay. 199 
 
 Exhibition. He has no patience with the Prince tetter to 
 and " that Cole " assembling Sawneys from all Henneu, 
 parts of the land, till you can't get along Picca- I'ssi. 
 dilly. He has been worn to death with bores 
 all summer, who present themselves by twos and 
 threes in his study, saying, " Here we are, " 
 &c., &c. 
 
 I wish you could see Miss Bremer's albums, full Letter to 
 of portraits, flowers, and landscapes, all done by Hemien^* 
 herself. A portrait of Emerson, marvellously isoi.^'^'' 
 like ; one of Jenny Lind, &c. Last night we had 
 quite a charming soiree, — Sir David Brewster and 
 his daughter ; Mackay, author of a work on popu- 
 lar education, you may remember to have seen 
 reviewed in the " Leader; " the Ellises, the Hodg- 
 sons, and half-a-dozen other nice people. Miss 
 Bremer was more genial than I have seen her, — 
 played on the piano, and smiled benevolently. 
 Altogether, I am beginning to repent of my repug- 
 nance. Mackay approves our prospectus in toto. 
 He is a handsome, fine-headed man, and a " good 
 opinion. " We are getting out a circular to accom- 
 pany the prospectus. I have been kept downstairs 
 by Mr. Mackay for the last two hours, and am 
 hurried, but it was a necessity to write ein paar 
 Worte to you. Mr. Mackay has written an account 
 of his book for the catalogue. I have been using 
 my powers of eloquence and flattery this morning 
 to make him begin an article on the " Development 
 of Protestantism. " Mr. Ellis was agreeable, — 
 really witty. He and Mrs. Ellis particularly cor- 
 dial to me, inviting me to visit them without 
 ceremony. I love you all better every day, and 
 better the more I see of other people. I am going 
 to one of the Birkbeck schools.
 
 200 Martineau and Newman. [142 strand, 
 
 Letter to I must tell jou a story Miss Bremer got from 
 
 Hemieur3d Emerson. Carlyle was very angry with him for 
 ov. 1801. ^^^ believing in a devil, and to convert him took 
 him amongst all the horrors of London, — the gin- 
 shops, &c. , — and finally to the House of Com- 
 mons, plying him at every turn with the question, 
 "Do you believe in a devil noo?" There is a 
 severe attack on Carlyle 's " Life of Sterling " in 
 yesterday's " Times, " — unfair as an account of the 
 book, but with some truth in its general remarks 
 about Carlyle. There is an article, evidently by 
 James Martineau, in the " Prospective, " which you 
 must read, " On the Unity of the Logical and 
 Intuitive in the ultimate grounds of Eeligious 
 Belief. " I am reading with great amusement ( !) 
 J. H. Newman's " Lectures on the Position of 
 Catholics. " They are full of clever satire and 
 description. My table is groaning with books, 
 and I have done very little with them yet, but I 
 trust in my star, which has hitherto helped me, to 
 do all I have engaged to do. Pray remember to 
 send the MS. translation of Schleiermacher's little 
 book, and also the book itself. 
 Lettertothe Whcu Mr. Nocl had finished his farewell visit 
 Nov'!'i85i!^ to-day, Mr. Flower was announced, so my morn- 
 ing has run away in chat. Time wears, and I 
 don't get on so fast as I ought, but I must scribble 
 a word or two, else you will make my silence an 
 excuse for writing me no word of yourselves. I 
 am afraid Mr. Noel and Mr. Bray have given you 
 a poor report of me. The last two days I have 
 been a little better, but I hardly think existing 
 arrangements can last beyond this quarter. Mr. 
 Noel says Miss L. is to visit you at Christmas. I 
 hope that is a mistake, as it would deprive me of 
 my hoped-for rest amongst you.
 
 1851.] Meets Lewes at the Theatre. 201 
 
 On Saturday afternoon came Mr. Spencer to ask Letter to 
 Mr. Chapman and me to go to the theatre ; so I Heunefr 
 ended the day in a godless manner, seeing the 23d Nov. 
 " Merry Wives of Windsor. " You must read ^^^' 
 Carlyle's denunciation of the opera, published in 
 the " Keepsake " ! The " Examiner " quotes it at 
 length. I send you the enclosed from Harriet 
 Martineau. Please to return it. The one from 
 Carlyle you may keep till I come. He is a 
 naughty fellow to write in the " Keepsake," and not 
 for us, after I wrote him the most insinuating let- 
 ter, offering him three glorious subjects. Yester- 
 day we went to Mr. Mackay's, Dr. Brabant being 
 there. 
 
 Carlyle called the other day, strongly recom- Letter to 
 mending Browning, the poet, as a writer for the ^Tth^Nov?^' 
 " Eeview, " and saying, " We shall see," about him- ^^^' 
 self. In other respects we have been stagnating 
 since Monday, and now I must work, work, work, 
 which I have scarcely done two days consecutively 
 since I have been here. Lewes says his article on 
 " Julia von Kriidener " ^ will be glorious. He sat 
 in the same box with us at the " Merry Wives of 
 Windsor," and helped to carry off the dolorousuess 
 of the play. 
 
 Alas! the work is so heavy just for the next Letter tothe 
 three days, all the revises being yet to come in, dayf2bd"^^ 
 and the proof of my own article ; ^ and Mr. Chap- 
 man is so overwhelmed with matters of detail, 
 that he has earnestly requested me to stay till 
 Saturday, and I cannot refuse, but it is a deep dis- 
 
 1 Appeared in January, 1852, No. of the "Westminster Eeview," 
 No. 1 of the New Series. 
 
 2 Review of Carlyle's " Life of Sterling " in " Westminster," 
 Jan. 1852.
 
 202 
 
 Visit to Eosehill. 
 
 [142 
 
 STRAND 
 
 Letter to 
 Mrs. Bray, 
 12th Jan. 
 
 1852. 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Hennell, 
 2l8t Jan. 
 1852, 
 
 Letter to the appointment to me. My heart will yearn after 
 fayf2M"'" you all. It is tliG fiist Christmas Day I shall 
 Dec 1861. i^g^YQ passcd without any Christmas feeling. On 
 Saturday, if you will have me, nothing shall keep 
 me here any longer. I am writing at a high table, 
 on a low seat, in a great hurry. Don't you think 
 my style is editorial ? 
 
 Accordingly, on Saturday, the 29th December, 
 1851, she did go down to Eosehill, and stayed 
 there till 12th January, when she returned to 
 London, and writes : — 
 I had a comfortable journey all alone, except from 
 Weedon to Ellsworth. When I saw a coated ani- 
 mal getting into my carriage, I thought of all hor- 
 rible stories of madmen in railways ; but his white 
 neckcloth and thin mincing voice soon convinced 
 me that he was one of those exceedingly tame ani- 
 mals, the clergy. 
 
 A kind welcome and a good dinner, — that is the 
 whole of my history at present. I am in anything 
 but company trim, or spirits. I can do nothing in 
 return for all your kindness, dear Cara, but love 
 you, as I do most heartily. You and all yours, for 
 their own sake first, but if it were not so, for yours. 
 Harriet Martineau called on Monday morning 
 with Mr. Atkinson. Very kind and cordial. I 
 honour her for her powers and industry, and should 
 be glad to think highly of her. I have no doul)t 
 that she is fascinating when there is time for talk. 
 We have had two agreeable soirees. Last Monday 
 I was talking and listening for two hours to Pierre 
 Leroux, — a dreamy genius. He was expounding 
 to me his ideas. He belongs neither to the school 
 of Proudhon, which represents Liberty only, — nor 
 to that of Louis Blanc, which represents Equality
 
 1852.J Pierre Lerouxs llieories. 203 
 
 only, — nor to that of Cabet, which represents Fra- Letter to 
 ilernity. Pierre Leroux's system is the syntkese Henueu^ 
 which combines all three. He has found tlie true issa.''*^ 
 pord which is to unite the love of self with the love 
 of one's neighbour. He is, you know, a very volu- 
 minous writer. George Sand has dedicated some 
 of her books to him. He dilated on his views of 
 the " Origin of Christianity." Strauss deficient, be- 
 cause he has not shown the identity of the teaching 
 of Jesus with that of the Essenes. This is Leroux's 
 favourite idea. I told him of your brother. He, 
 moreover, traces Essenism back to Egypt, and thence 
 to India, — the cradle of all religions, &c., &c., with 
 much more, which he uttered with an unction 
 rather amusing in a soiree tete-a-tete. "Est-ce que 
 nous sommes faits pour chercher le bonheur ? Est- 
 ce la votre id^e — dites moi." " Mais non, — nous 
 sommes faits, je pense, pour nous d^velopper le 
 plus possible." " Ah ! c'est ca." He is in utter 
 poverty, going to lecture, — autrement ilfaut mourir. 
 Has a wife and children with him. He came to 
 London in his early days, when he was twenty-five, 
 — to find work as a printer. All the world was in 
 mourning for the Princess Charlotte. " Et moi, je 
 me trouvais avoir un habit vert-pomme." So he 
 got no work ; went back to Paris ; by hook or by 
 crook founded the "Globe" journal; knew St. 
 Simon ; disagrees with him entirely, as with all 
 other theorists except Pierre Leroux. 
 
 We are trying Mazzini to write on " Freedom v. 
 Despotism," and have received an admirable article 
 on " The New Puritanism," ^ i. e., " Physical Puri- 
 tanism," from Dr. Brown, the chemist, of Edin- 
 burgh, which, I think, will go in the next number. 
 
 1 Published iu the April, 1852, number of the "Westminster."
 
 Letter to 
 
 204 Acquaintance vnth Miss Parkes. [142 strand, 
 
 _ I am in a miserable state of languor and low 
 
 Hennetr spirits, in which everything is a trouble to nie. I 
 21st Jan. must tell you a bit of Louis Blanc's English, which 
 Mr. Spencer was reciting the other night. The 
 petit homme called on some one, and said, " I come 
 to tell you how you are. I was at you the other 
 day, but you were not." 
 Letter to the We wcut to quitc a gay party at Mrs. Mackay's 
 febri'ss'i on Saturday. Good Mr. Mackay has been taking 
 trouble to get me to Hastings for my health, — call- 
 ing on Miss Fellowes, daughter of the " Eeligion of 
 the Universe," and inducing her to write me a note 
 of invitation. Sara will be heartily welcome. Un- 
 fortunately I had an invitation to the Parkes', to 
 meet Cobden on Saturday evening. I was sorry to 
 miss that. Miss Parkes ^ is a dear, ardent, honest 
 creature ; and I hope we shall be good friends. I 
 have nothing else to tell you. I am steeped in dul- 
 ness within and without. Heaven send some lions 
 to-night to meet Pox, who is coming. An adver- 
 tisement we found in the " Times " to-day, — " To 
 gentlemen. A converted medical man, of gentle- 
 manly habits and fond of Scriptural conversation, 
 wishes to meet with a gentleman of Calvinistic 
 views, thirsty after truth, in want of a daily com- 
 panion. A little temporal aid will be expected in 
 return. Address, Verax"! 
 letter to We are going to Mr. Ellis's, at Champion Hill, 
 
 Mrs Bray, to-morrow cvcniug. I am better now. Have rid 
 
 8th Feb. » n 1 1 , • j_ 
 
 1852. myself of all distasteful work, and am trying to 
 
 love the glorious destination of humanity, look- 
 ing before and after. We shall be glad to have 
 Sara. 
 
 1 Now Madame Belloc, who remained to the end one of George 
 Eliot's closest friends.
 
 1852.] Acquaintance with 3Irs. Taylor. 205 
 
 Miss Sara Hennell arrived on a visit to the 
 Strand next day — the 9th February — and 
 stayed till the 17th. 
 I have not merely had a headache, — I have heen LettertoMt 
 really ill, and feel very much shattered. We (Miss Kebf'isoL 
 Evans and Miss Sara Hennell) dined yesterday at 
 Mrs. Peter Taylor's,^ at Sydenham. I was not fit 
 to go, especially to make my debut at a strange 
 place ; but the country air was a temptation. The 
 thick of the work is just beginning, and I am 
 bound in honour not to run away from it, as I have 
 shirked all labour but what is strictly editorial this 
 quarter. 
 
 We went to the meeting of the Association for Letter to 
 the Abolition of the Taxes on Knowledge on 2nth"Feb. ' 
 Wednesday, that I might hear Cobden, in whom I 
 was wofully disappointed. George Dawson's speech 
 was admirable. I think it undesirable to fix on a 
 London residence at present, as I want to go to 
 Brighton for a month or two next quarter. I am 
 seriously concerned at my languid body, and feel 
 the necessity of taking some measures to get vigour. 
 Lewes inquired for Sara last Monday in a tone of 
 interest. He was charmed with her, as who would 
 not be that has any taste ? Do write to me, dear 
 Cara ; I want comforting : this world looks ugly 
 just now ; all people rather worse than I have been 
 used to think them. Put me in love with my kind 
 again, by giving me a glimpse of your own inward 
 self, since I cannot see the outer one. 
 
 1 Mrs. Peter Taylor remained a lifelong and a valued friend of 
 George Eliot's, and many interesting letters in these volumes are 
 addressed to her. I am glad also to take this opportunity of ex- 
 pressing my thanks to her for obtaining for me two other sets of 
 correspondence, — the letters addressed to Mrs. Beecher Stowe 
 and to Mrs. William Smith.
 
 206 Offers of Music. [142 strand, 
 
 Mr"^mr ^ ^^^ sympathise with you in your troubles, hav- 
 
 Tayior, Gto ing been a housekeeper myself, and known disap- 
 
 *" ' "■ pointment in trusted servants. Ah, well ! we have 
 
 a good share of the benefits of our civilisation ; it is 
 
 but fair that we should feel some of the burthen of 
 
 its imperfections. 
 
 Thank you a thousand times for wishing to see 
 me again. I should really like to see you in your 
 own nice, fresh, healthy-looking home again ; but 
 until the end of March I fear I shall be a prisoner 
 from the necessity for constant work. Still it is 
 possible that I may have a day, though I am quite 
 unable to say when. 
 
 You will be still more surprised at the notice of 
 the "Westminster" in "The People," when you 
 know that Maccall himself wrote it. I have not 
 seen it, but had been told of its ill-nature. However, 
 he is too good a man to write otherwise than sin- 
 cerely ; and our opinion of a book often depends on 
 the state of the liver ! 
 tetter to I had two offcrs last night, — not of marriage, 
 
 25th March, but of music, — wMch I find it impossible to resist. 
 Mr. Herbert Spencer proposed to take me on Thurs- 
 day to hear "William Tell," and Miss Parkes asked 
 me to go with her to hear the " Creation " on Fri- 
 day. I have had so little music this quarter, and 
 these two things are so exactly what I should like, 
 that I have determined to put off, for the sake of 
 them, my other pleasure of seeing you. So, pray, 
 keep your precious welcome warm for me until 
 Saturday, when I shall positively set off by the 
 two o'clock train. Harriet Martineau has written 
 me a most cordial invitation to go to see her before 
 July, but that is impossible. 
 
 1852,
 
 J852.] Heljp in Despondency. 207 
 
 I am grieved to find that you have to pay for Letter to 
 that fine temperament of yours in attacks of neu- Tayiorf27'th 
 ralgia. Your silence did not surprise me, after the ^"'^^' ^^"^ 
 account you had given me of your domestic cir- 
 cumstances, but I have wished for you on Monday 
 evenings. Your cordial assurance that you shall 
 be glad to see me sometimes is one of those pleas- 
 ant things — those life-preservers — which relent- 
 ing destiny sends me now and then to buoy me up. 
 For you must know that I am not a little despond- 
 ing now and then, and think that old friends will 
 die off, while I shall be left without the power to 
 make new ones. You know how sad one feels 
 when a great procession has swept by one, and the 
 last notes of its music have died away, leaving one 
 alone with the fields and sky. I feel so about life 
 sometimes. It is a help to read such a life as Mar- 
 garet Fuller's. How inexpressibly touching that 
 passage from her journal, — "I shall always reign 
 through the intellect, but the life ! the life ! my 
 God ! shall that never be sweet ? " I am thankful, 
 as if for myself, that it was sweet at last. But 
 I am running on about feelings when I ought to 
 tell you facts. I am going on Wednesday to my 
 friends in Warwickshire for about ten days or a 
 fortnight. When I come back, I hope you will be 
 quite strong and able to receive visitors without 
 effort, — Mr. Taylor too. 
 
 I did go to the conversazione ; but you have less 
 to regret than you think. Mazzini's speeches are 
 better read than heard. Proofs are come demand- 
 ing my immediate attention, so I must end this 
 hasty scribble. 
 
 On the 3d April Miss Evans went to Eosehill, and 
 stayed till the 14th. On her return she writes ;
 
 208 Friendship for Mrs. Hennell. [142 strand, 
 
 Letter to There was an article on the bookselling affair in the 
 
 Air. Brav . 
 
 iTtii April, " Times " of yesterday, which must be the knell of 
 the Association. Dickens is to preside at a meeting 
 in this house on the subject some day next week. 
 The opinions on the various articles in the " Keview " 
 are, as before, ridiculously various. The " Econo- 
 mist" calls the article on Quakerism "admirably 
 written." Greg says the article on India is " very 
 masterly;" while he calls Mazzini's "sad stuff, — 
 mere verbiage." 
 Letter to If there is any change in my affection for you, it 
 
 Heimeii, is that I lovc you more than ever, not less. I have 
 1852. ^"' as perfect a friendship for you as my imperfect 
 nature can feel, — a friendship in which deep re- 
 spect and admiration are sweetened by a sort of 
 flesh-and-blood sisterly feeling and the happy con- 
 sciousness that I have your affection, however un- 
 deservedly, in return. I have confidence that this 
 friendship can never be shaken ; that it must last 
 while I last, and that the supposition of its ever 
 being weakened by a momentary irritation is too 
 contemptibly absurd for me to take the trouble to 
 deny it. As to your whole conduct to me, from 
 the first day I knew you, it has been so generous 
 and sympathetic that if I did not heartily love 
 you, I should feel deep gratitude, — but love ex- 
 cludes gratitude. It is impossible that I should 
 ever love two women better than I love you and 
 Cara. Indeed it seems to me that I can never 
 love any so well ; and it is certain that I can never 
 have any friend — not even a husband — who 
 would supply the loss of those associations with 
 the past which belong to you. Do believe in my 
 love for you, and that it will remain as long as I 
 have my senses, because it is interwoven with my
 
 1852.] Intimacy ivith Herbert Spencer. 209 
 
 best nature, and is dependent not on any accidents 
 of manner but on long experience, which has con- 
 firmed the instinctive attraction of earlier days. 
 
 Our fortunes here are as usual chequered, — Letter to the 
 
 Brays, 'J^iA 
 " Twist ye, twine ye, even so '^^'■"' ^'*^-- 
 
 Mingle human weal and woe." 
 
 Grote is very friendly, and has propitiated J. S. 
 Mill, who will write for us when we want him. 
 We had quite a brilliant soiree yesterday evening, 
 W. E. Greg, Forster (of Eawdon), Francis New- 
 man, the Ellises, and Louis Blanc were the stars 
 of greatest magnitude. I had a pleasant talk with 
 Greg and Forster. Greg was " much pleased to 
 have made my acquaintance." Forster, on the 
 whole, appeared to think that people should be 
 glad to make his acquaintance. Greg is a short 
 man, but his brain is large, the anterior lobe very 
 fine, and a moral region to correspond. Black, 
 wiry, curly hair, and every indication of a first- 
 rate temperament. We have some very nice Amer- 
 icans here, — the Pughs, friends of the Parkes', 
 really refined, intellectual people. Miss Pngh, an 
 elderly lady, is a great abolitionist, and was one 
 of the Women's Convention that came to England 
 in 1840, and was not allowed to join the Men's 
 Convention. But I suppose we shall soon be able 
 to say, nous avons change toiit cela. 
 
 I went to the opera on Saturday, — "I Martiri," 
 at Covent Garden, — with my " excellent friend, 
 Herbert Spencer," as Lewes calls him. We have 
 agreed that there is no reason why we should not 
 have as much of each other's society as we like. 
 He is a good, delightful creature, and I always 
 feel better for being with him. 
 
 VOL. L — 14
 
 210 Charles Dickens as Chairman. [142 strand, 
 
 ^t'ertothe I like to remind you of me on Sunday morning, 
 May, 1852. whcu you look at the flowers and listen to music ; 
 so I send a few lines, though I have not much 
 time to spare to-day. After Tuesday I will write 
 you a longer letter, and tell you all about every- 
 thing. I am going to the opera to-night to hear 
 the " Huguenots. " See what a fine thing it is to 
 pick up people who are short-sighted enough to 
 like one ! 
 
 On the 4th of May a meeting, consisting 
 chiefly of authors, was held at the house in 
 the Strand, for the purpose of hastening the 
 removal of the trade restrictions on the Com- 
 merce of Literature, and it is thus described in 
 the following letter : — 
 Bray/ sth''^ ^^^ meeting last night went off triumphantly, and 
 MaTi852. I saluted Mr. Chapman with " See the Conquering 
 Hero comes" on the piano at 12 o'clock; for not 
 until then was the last magnate, except Herbert 
 Spencer, out of the house. I sat at the door for a 
 short time, but soon got a chair within it, and 
 heard and saw everything. 
 
 Dickens in the chair, — a position he fills re- 
 markably well, preserving a courteous neutrality 
 of eyebrows, and speaking with clearness and 
 decision. His appearance is certainly disappoint- 
 ing, — no benevolence in the face, and, I think, 
 little in the head, — the anterior lobe not by any 
 means remarkable. In fact, he is not distin- 
 guished looking in anyway, — neither handsome 
 nor ugly, neither fat nor thin, neither tall nor 
 short. Babbage moved the first resolution, — a 
 bad speaker, but a great authority. Charles Knight 
 is a beautiful, elderly man, with a modest but 
 firm enunciation ; and he made a wise and telling
 
 1852.] Meeting in the Strand. 211 
 
 speech which silenced one or two vulgar, ignorant Letter to the 
 booksellers who had got into the meeting by mis- Ma"y,''i652. 
 take. One of these began by complimenting 
 Dickens, ■ — " views held by such worthy and im- 
 portant gentlemen, which is your worthy person in 
 the chair. " Dickens looked respectfully neutral. 
 The most telling speech of the evening was Prof. 
 Tom Taylor's, — • as witty and brilliant as one 
 of George Dawson's. Professor Owen's, too, was 
 remarkably good. He had a resolution to move 
 as to the bad effect of the trade restrictions on 
 scientific works, and gave his own experience in 
 illustration. Speaking of the slow and small sale 
 of scientific books of a high class, he said, in his 
 silvery bland way, alluding to the boast that the 
 retail booksellers recommended the works of less 
 known authors, — " for which limited sale we are 
 doubtless indebted to the kind recommendation of 
 our friends, the retail booksellers," — whereupon 
 these worthies, taking it for a bond fide compli- 
 ment, cheered enthusiastically. Dr. Lankester, 
 Prof. Newman, Eobert Bell, and others spoke 
 well. Owen has a tremendous head, and looked, 
 as he was, the greatest celebrity of the meeting. 
 George Cruikshank, too, made a capital speech in 
 an admirable moral spirit. He is the most homely, 
 genuine-looking man, not unlike the pictures of 
 Captain Cuttle. 
 
 I went to hear the " Huguenots " on Saturday 
 evening. It was a rich treat. Mario, and Grisi, 
 and Formes, and that finest of orchestras under 
 Costa. I am going to a concert to-night. This is 
 all very fine, but in the meantime I am getting as 
 haggard as an old witch under London atmosphere 
 and influences. I shall be glad to have sent me
 
 212 
 
 Dislike of Scrap- Work. [142 strand, 
 
 Letter to the 
 Brays, Mon- 
 day, 12th (?) 
 1852. 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Hennell, 
 27th May, 
 
 1852. 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Hennell, 
 Wednesday, 
 2d June, 
 1852. 
 
 my Shakspeare, Goethe, Byron, and Wordsworth, 
 if you will be so good as to take the trouble of 
 packing them. 
 
 My days have slipt away in a most mysterious 
 fashion lately, — chiefly, I suppose, in long walks 
 and long talks. Our Monday evenings are dying 
 off, — not universally regretted, — but we are ex- 
 pecting one or two people to-night. I have noth- 
 ing to tell except that I went to the opera on 
 Thursday, and heard " La Juive, " and, moreover, 
 fell in love with Prince Albert, who was unusually 
 animated and prominent. He has a noble, genial, 
 intelligent expression, and is altogether a man to 
 be proud of. I am going next Thursday to see Grisi 
 in " Norma. " She is quite beautiful this season, 
 thinner than she was, and really younger looking. 
 
 My brightest spot, next to my love of old friends, 
 is the deliciously calm new friendship that Herbert 
 Spencer gives me. We see each other every day, 
 and have a delightful cameraderie in everything. 
 But for him my life would be desolate enough. 
 What a wretched lot of old shrivelled creatures we 
 shall be by-and-by ! Never mind, — the uglier we 
 get in the eyes of others, the lovelier we shall be 
 to each other ; that has always been my firm faith 
 about friendship, and now it is in a slight degree 
 my experience. Mme. D 'Albert has sent me the 
 sweetest letter, just like herself ; and I feel grate- 
 ful to have such a heart remembering and loving 
 me on the other side of the Jura. They are very 
 well and flourishing. 
 
 I am bothered to death with article-reading and 
 scrap-work of all sorts : it is clear my poor head 
 will never produce anything under these circum- 
 stances; hut I am patient. I am ashamed to tease
 
 1852.] George Comic on the " Westminster." 213 
 
 you so, but I must beg of you to send me George Letter to 
 Sand's works; and also I shall be grateful if you hc^Lcu? 
 will lend me, what I think you \\^\Q, —nn^xfZt''^* 
 English edition of " Corinne, " and Miss Austen's ^^" 
 "Sense and Sensibility." Harriet Martineau's 
 article on " Niebuhr " will not go in the July num- 
 ber. I am sorry for it, — it is admirable. After 
 all, she is a trump, — the only Englishwoman 
 that possesses thoroughly the art of writing. 
 
 On Thursday morning I went to St. Paul's to 
 see the Charity children assembled, and hear their 
 singing. Berlioz says it is the finest thing he has 
 heard in England ; and this opinion of his induced 
 me to go. I was not disappointed, — it is worth 
 doing once, especially as we got out before the 
 sermon. I had a long call from George Combe 
 yesterday. He says he thinks the " Westminster, " 
 under my management, the most important means 
 of enlightenment of a literary nature in exist- 
 ence, — the "Edinburgh," under Jeffrey, nothing 
 to it, &c. ! ! ! I wiVh / thought so too. 
 
 Your joint assurance of welcome strengthens the Lettertotho 
 centripetal force that would carry me to you; but, j^i^sB-l 
 on the other hand, sundry considerations are in 
 favour of the centrifugal force, which, I suppose, 
 will carry me to Broadstairs or Eamsgate. On the 
 whole, I prefer to keep my visit to you as a lonne 
 houche, when I am just in the best physical and 
 mental state for enjoying it. I hope to get away 
 on Saturday, or on Wednesday at the latest. I 
 think the third number of the " Eeview " will be 
 capital, — thoroughly readable, and yet not frothy. 
 
 I have assured Herbert Spencer that you will Letter to 
 
 , „ , J. il • .; Clms. Bray, 
 
 think it a sufficiently formal answer to the invi- osd^ju^e, 
 tation you sent him through Mr. Lewes, if I tell ^^-
 
 214 
 
 Miss B. Smith. 
 
 [142 STRAND, 
 
 Letter to 
 Chas. Bray, 
 23d June, 
 1852. 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Hsnnell, 
 25th June, 
 (■/) 1852. 
 
 Letter to 
 tlie Brays, 
 end of June, 
 1852. 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Hennell, 
 Friday 
 morning, 2d 
 July, 1852. 
 
 you that he will prefer waiting for the pleasure 
 of a visit to you until I am with you, — if you 
 will have him then, I spent the evening at Mr. 
 Parkes's on Monday. Yesterday Herbert Spencer 
 brought his father to see me, — a large-brained, 
 highly informed man, with a certain quaintness 
 and simplicity, altogether very pleasing. 
 
 After all, I begin to hope that our next number 
 will be the best yet. Forbes is good. Froude 
 ditto; and James Martineau, if I may judge from 
 a glance at a few of his pages, admirable. Lewes 
 has written us an agreeable article on Lady Novel- 
 ists. There is a mysterious contribution to the 
 Independent section. We are hoping that an 
 article on Edinburgh Literary Men, yet to come, 
 will be very good. If not, we shall put in 
 Nhebuhr ; it is capital. 
 
 The opera, Chiswick Flower Show, the French 
 play, and the Lyceum, all in one week, brought 
 their natural consequences of headache and hyster- 
 ics, — • all yesterday. At five o'clock I felt quite 
 sure that life was unendurable. This morning, 
 however, the weather and I are both better, hav- 
 ing cried ourselves out and used up all our clouds ; 
 and I can even contemplate living six months 
 longer. Was there ever anything more dreary 
 than this June ? 
 
 I am busy packing to-day, and am going to Mr. 
 Parkes's to dinner. Miss Parkes has introduced 
 me to Barbara Smith, ^ whose expression I like 
 exceedingly, and hope to know more of her. I go 
 to Broadstairs on Saturday. I am sadly in want of 
 
 1 Afterwards Madame Bodichon, — one of the three or four 
 most intimate friends of George Eliot, whose name will very 
 often appear in subsequent pages.
 
 1852.] Deliyht with Change to Bruadstairs. 215 
 
 the change, and would much rather present myself to 
 you all when I can do you more credit as a friend. 
 
 I warn you against Ramsgate, which is a strip Letter to 
 of London come out for an airing. Broadstairs is 4u?juiy7' 
 perfect; and I have the snuggest little lodging ^^'' 
 conceivable, with a motherly good woman and a 
 nice little damsel of fourteen to wait on me. There 
 are only my two rooms in this cottage, but lodg- 
 ings are plentiful in the place. I have a sitting- 
 room about 8 feet by 9, and a bedroom a little 
 larger; yet in that small space there is almost 
 every comfort. I pay a guinea a week for my 
 rooms, so I shall not ruin myself by staying a 
 month, unless I commit excesses in cofiee and 
 sugar. I am thinking whether it would not be 
 wise to retire from the world and live here for the 
 rest of my days With some fresh paper on the 
 walls and an easy-chair, I think I could resign 
 myself. Come and tell me your opinion. 
 
 I thought of you last night, when I was in a Letter to 
 
 ^ . / ^ ' Miss Sara 
 
 state of mingled rapture and torture, — rapture at Henneii, 
 the sight of a glorious evening sky, torture at the i852. 
 sight and hearing of the belabouring given to the 
 poor donkey which was drawing me from Eamsgate 
 home. 
 
 I had a note from Miss Florence Nightingale 
 yesterday. I was much pleased with her. There 
 is a loftiness of mind about her which is well 
 expressed by her form and manner. Glad you are 
 pleased with the "Westminster." I do think it 
 a rich number, — matter for a fortnight's reading 
 and thought. Lewes has not half done it justice 
 in the " Leader. " To my mind the Niebuhr article 
 is as good as any of them. If you could see me 
 in my quiet nook! I am half ashamed of being
 
 216 Deliglit with Change of Life, [broadstairs 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 HenneO, 
 luth July, 
 1&&2. 
 
 Letter to 
 Clias. Bray, 
 21st July, 
 
 Letter to 
 Mrs. Bray, 
 Tliursday, 
 14th (?) 
 Aug. 1852. 
 
 in such clover, both spiritually and materiallj* 
 while some of my friends are on the dusty high- 
 ways, without a tuft of grass or a flower to cheer 
 them. A letter from you will be delightfuL We 
 seem to have said very little to each other lately. 
 But I always know — rejoice to know — that 
 there is the same Sara for me as there is the same 
 green earth and arched sky, when I am good and 
 wise enough to like the best thing. 
 
 Do not be anxious about me, — there is no cause. 
 I am profiting, body and mind, from quiet walks 
 and talks with nature, gathering " Lady's Bed- 
 straw " and " Rest-harrow, " and other pretty 
 things; picking up shells (not in the Newtonian 
 sense, but literally) ; reading Aristotle, to find out 
 what is the chief good ; and eating mutton-chops, 
 that I may have strength to pursue it. If you 
 insist on my writing about " Emotions, " why, I 
 must get some up expressly for the purpose. But 
 I must own I would rather not, for it is the grand 
 wish and object of my life to get rid of them as 
 far as possible, seeing they have already had more 
 than their share of my nervous energy. I shall 
 not be in town on the 2d of August, — at least I 
 pray heaven to forbid it. 
 
 Mrs. Bray paid a visit to Broadstairs from 
 
 the 3d to the 12th August, and the next letter 
 
 is addressed to her. 
 Are you really the better for having been here ? 
 Since you left, I have been continually regretting 
 that I could not make your visit pleasanter. I 
 was irritable and out of sorts ; but you have an 
 apparatus for secreting happiness, that 'sit. Prov- 
 idence, seeing that I wanted weaning from this 
 place, has sent a swarm of harvest-bugs and lady-
 
 1852.] Admiration of Ilawtliornc. 217 
 
 birds. These, with the half-blank, half-dissipated Letterto 
 feeling which comes on after having companions Thurb^"^' 
 and losing them, make me think of returning to Aug/i852. 
 London on Saturday week with more resignation 
 than I have felt before. I am very well and 
 " plucky," — a word which I propose to substitute 
 for " happy, " as more truthful. 
 
 For the last two months I have been at this Letterto 
 pretty, quiet place, which " David Copperfield " xayiorf mh 
 has made classic, far away from London noise ^"^* ^^^' 
 and smoke. 
 
 I am sorry now that I brought with me Fox's 
 Lectures, which I had not managed to read before 
 I left town. But I shall return thither at the 
 end of next week, and I will at once forward the 
 volume to Gary Lane. 
 
 One sees no novels less than a year old at the 
 sea-side, so I am unacquainted with the " Blitlie- 
 dale Eomance," except through the reviews, which 
 have whetted my curiosity more than usual. 
 Hawthorne is a grand favourite of mine, and I 
 shall be sorry if he do not go on surpassing him- 
 self. It is sad to hear of your only going out to 
 consult a physician. Illness seems to me the one 
 woe for which there is no comfort, — no compen- 
 sation. But perhaps you find it otherwise, for 
 you have a less rebellious spirit than I, and suffer- 
 ing seems to make you look all the more gentle. 
 
 Thinking of you this morning, — as I often do, Letterto 
 
 .11 i -J. « 1 Mrs. Hough- 
 
 though you may not suppose so, — it was borne ton, 22d 
 
 in on my mind " that I must write to you, and I ^"*" ''^ 
 
 obey the inspiration without waiting to consider 
 
 whether there may be a corresponding desire on 
 
 your part to hear from me. I live in a world of 
 
 cares and joys, so remote from the one in which
 
 218 
 
 Return to London. [142 strand, 
 
 Letter to 
 Mrs. Hough- 
 ton, 22d 
 Aug. 1852. 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Hennell, 
 29th Aug. 
 1852. 
 
 Lfttter to 
 Misa Sara 
 Heunell, 2d 
 Sept 1852. 
 
 we used to sympathise with each other, that I find 
 positive communication with you difficult. But 
 I am not unfaithful to old loves, — they were sin- 
 cere, and they are lasting. I hope you will not 
 think it too much trouble to write me a little 
 news of yourself. I want very much to know if 
 your health continues good, and if there has been 
 any change in your circumstances, that I may have 
 something like a true conception of you. All is 
 well with me so far as my individuality is con- 
 cerned, — but I have plenty of friends' troubles to 
 sorrow over. I hope you have none to add to the 
 number. 
 
 I celebrated my return to London by the usual 
 observance, — that is to say, a violent headache, 
 which is not yet gone, and of course I am in the 
 worst spirits, and my opinion of things is not 
 worth a straw. I tell you this that you may know 
 why I only send you this scrap instead of the long 
 letter which I have in petto for you, and which 
 would otherwise have been written yesterday. 
 
 Somehow my letters — except those which come 
 under the inexorable imperative must (the " ought " 
 I manage well enough to shirk) — will not get 
 written. The fact is, I am in a croaking mood, 
 and I am waiting and waiting for it to pass by ; 
 so if my pen croaks in spite of my resolutions to 
 the contrary, please to take no notice of it. Ever 
 since I came back, I have felt something like the 
 madness which imagines that the four walls are 
 contracting and going to crush one. Harriet Mar- 
 tineau (in a private letter shown to me), with 
 incomprehensible ignorance, jeers at Lewes for 
 introducing psycholog]/ as a science in his Comte 
 papers. Why, Comte himself holds psychology
 
 1852.] Depression. 219 
 
 to be a necessary link in the chain of science. Letter to 
 Lewes only suggests a change in its relations. Hennen?2d 
 There is a gieat dreary article on the Colonies by ^^'^*' ^^^^' 
 my side asking for reading and abridgment, so I 
 cannot go on scribbling, — indeed my hands are 
 so hot and tremulous this morning that it will 
 be better for you if I leave off. Your little lov- 
 ing notes are very precious to me ; but I say noth- 
 ing about matters of feeling till my good genius 
 has returned from his excursions : the evil one 
 has possession just now. 
 
 The week has really yielded nothing worth tell- Letter to 
 ing you. I am a few degrees more wizened and mii'S' 
 muddle-headed ; and the articles for the " Eeview " ^^"" 
 are on the whole unsatisfactory. I fear a discern- 
 ing public will think this number a sad falling 
 off. This is the greater pity, that said public is 
 patronising us well at present. Scarcely a day 
 passes that some one does not write to order the 
 " Review " as a permanent subscriber. You may 
 as well expect news from an old spider or bat as 
 from me. I can only tell you what I think of the 
 "Blithedale Eomance," of "Uncle Tom's Cabin," 
 and the American Fishery Dispute, — all which, 
 I am very sure, you don't want to know. Do 
 have pity on me, and make a little variety in my 
 life, by all sending me a scrap, — never mind if 
 it be only six lines apiece. Perhaps something 
 will befall me one day or other. As it is, nothing 
 happens to me but the ringing of the dinner-bell 
 and the arrival of a proof. I have no courage to 
 walk out. 
 
 Lewes called on me the other day, and told me Letter to 
 of a conversation with Professor Owen, in which isirscpt!"^' 
 the latter declared his conviction that the cere-
 
 220 
 
 Enjoyment of Edinhurgh. [142 strand 
 
 Letter to 
 Chas. Bray, 
 18th Sept, 
 1852. 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Hennsll, 
 S.iturday, 
 Sept. 1852. 
 
 Letter to the 
 Brays, 2d 
 Oct. 1852. 
 
 Letter to the 
 Brays, 7th 
 Oct. 1852. 
 
 brum was not the organ of the mind, but the 
 cerebellum rather. He founds on the enormous 
 comparative size of brain in the grampus ! The 
 professor has a huge anterior lobe of his own. 
 What would George Combe say if I were to tell 
 him ? But every great man has his paradox, and 
 that of the first anatomist in Europe ought to be 
 a startling one. 
 
 We shall make a respectable figure after all, — 
 nine articles, and two or three of them good, the 
 rest not bad. The " Eeview " has been selling well 
 lately, in spite of its being the end of the quarter. 
 We have made splendid provision for January, 
 — Froude, Harriet Martineau, Theodore Parker, 
 Samuel Brown, &c. , &c. The autumnal freshness 
 of the mornings makes me dream of mellowing 
 woods and gossamer threads. I am really longing 
 for my journey. Bessie Parkes spent last evening 
 with me chatting of experience. 
 
 Pity me, — I have had the headache for four 
 days incessantly. But now I am well, and even 
 the Strand seems an elysium by contrast. I set 
 off on Tuesday for Edinburgh by express. This 
 is awfully expensive, but it seems the only way 
 of reaching there alive with my frail body. I 
 have had the kindest notes from the Combes and 
 from Harriet Martineau. 
 
 Here I am in this beautiful Auld Eeekie once 
 more, — hardly recognising myself for the same 
 person as the damozel who left it by the coach 
 with a heavy heart some six years ago. The 
 Combes are all kindness, and I am in clover, — 
 an elegant house, glorious fires, and a comfortable 
 carriage, — in short, just in the circumstances to 
 nourish sleek optimism, convince one that this is
 
 ;852.] The Comles. 221 
 
 le meillcur des mondes possibles, and make one Letter to the 
 shudder at the impiety of all who doubt it. Last oct^^iJ-^!* 
 evening Mr. Robert Cox came to tea to be intro- 
 duced to me as my cicerone through the lions of 
 Edinburgh. The talk last night was pleasant 
 enough, though of course all the interlocutors 
 besides Mr. Combe have little to do but shape 
 elegant modes of negation and athrmation, like the 
 people who are talked to by Socrates in Plato's 
 dialogues, — " Certainly," " That I firmly believe," 
 &c. I have a beautiful view from my room win- 
 dow, — masses of wood, distant hills, the Firth, 
 and four splendid buildings, dotted far apart, — 
 not an ugly object to be seen. When I look out 
 in the morning, it is as if I had waked up in 
 Utopia or Icaria, or one of Owen's parallelograms. 
 The weather is perfect, — all the more delightful 
 to me for its northern sharpness, which is just 
 what I wanted to brace me. I have been out 
 walking and driving all day, and have only time 
 before dinner to send this i^oa?- Worte, but I may 
 have still less time to-morrow. 
 
 Between the beauty of the weather and the Letter tothe 
 
 ■, ■ i o 1 IT Brays, 12th 
 
 scenery, and the kindness of good people, i am oct. 1852. 
 tipsy with pleasure. But I shall tell you nothing 
 of what I see and do, because that would be taking 
 off some of the edge from your pleasure in seeing 
 me. One's dear friend who has nothing at all 
 to tell one is a bore. Is it not so, honour bright? 
 I enjoy talking to Mr. Combe, — he can tell me 
 many things, especially about men in America 
 and elsewhere, which are valuable; and besides, 
 I sometimes manage to get in more than a nega- 
 tive or affirmative. He and Mrs. Combe are really 
 affectionate to me, and the mild warmth of their
 
 222 
 
 Visit to Miss Martineau. [142 strand, 
 
 Letter to the 
 Brays, 12th 
 Oct. 1852. 
 
 Letter to 
 hliiis Sara 
 Hennell, 
 rjth Oct. 
 1S52. 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Eeunell, 
 19th Oct. 
 1852. 
 
 Letter to 
 the Brays, 
 Thursday 
 nisht, 22d 
 Oct. 1852. 
 
 regard, with the perfect order and elegance of 
 everything about me, are just the soothing influ- 
 ence to do me good. They urge me to stay longer, 
 but I shall adhere to my original determination of 
 going to Miss Martineau's on the 20th, and I do 
 not mean to stay with her longer than the 25th. 
 We are going to-day to Graigcrook (Jeffrey's place), 
 a beautiful spot, which old October has mellowed 
 into his richest tints. Such a view of Edinburgh 
 from it! 
 
 Those who know the article on Whewell to be 
 Mill's, generally think it good, but I confess to 
 me it is unsatisfactory. The sun does shine here, 
 albeit this is the 12th October. I wish you could 
 see the view from Salisbury Crag. 
 
 Yes, he is an apostle. An apostle, it is true, 
 with a back and front drawing-room, hut still 
 earnest, convinced, consistent, having fought a 
 good fight, and now peacefully enjoying the retro- 
 spect of it. I shall leave these good friends with 
 regret, almost with repentings, that I did not 
 determine to pay them a longer visit. I have had 
 a pleasant note from Miss Martineau this morning, 
 with a vignette of her house, — I suppose to make 
 me like all the better the idea of going there. 
 
 The coach brought me to Miss Martineau's gate 
 at half-past six yesterday evening, and she was 
 there with a beaming face, to welcome me. Mr. 
 Atkinson joined us this morning, and is a very 
 agreeable addition. There has been an intelligent 
 gentleman visitor to-day, who is interested in 
 Miss Martineau's building society; and we have 
 been trudging about looking at cottages, and enjoy- 
 ing the sight of the mountains, spite of the rain 
 and mist. The weather is not promising, that is
 
 ||; -J 
 
 09 
 
 o
 
 1852.] Esmond. 223 
 
 the worst of it. Miss M. is charming in her own Letter to 
 home, — qnite handsome from her animation and Thursd'ay' 
 intelligence. She came behind me, put her hands oa.'^is&i! 
 round me, and kissed me in the prettiest way this 
 evening, telling me she was so glad she had got 
 me here. I send you her note that you may have 
 an idea of " The Knoll. " 
 
 We had a fine day yesterday, and went to Bor- Letter totha 
 rowdale. I have not been well since I have been oct.^is5'j. 
 here. Still I manage to enjoy, certainly not my- 
 self, but my companions and the scenery. I shall 
 set off from here on Tuesday morning, and shall 
 be due at the Coventry station, I believe, at 5. 50. 
 After a pleasant ten days' visit to Eosehill, 
 Miss Evans returned to London on the 3d 
 November. 
 To get into a first-class carriage, fall asleep, and Letter to th* 
 awake to find oneself where one would be, is al- -sar.^^'z. 
 most as good as having Prince Hussein's carpet. 
 This was my easy way of getting to London on 
 Thursday. By 5 o'clock I had unpacked my boxes 
 and made my room tidy, and then I began to feel 
 some satisfaction in beingj settled down where I 
 am of most use just now. After dinner came 
 Herbert Spencer, and spent the evening. Yester- 
 day morning Mr. Greg called on his way to Paris, 
 to express his regret that he did not see me at 
 Ambleside. He is very pleasing, but somehow or 
 other he frightens me dreadfully. I am going to 
 plunge into Thackeray's novel now (" Esmond "). 
 
 Oh this hideous fog! Let me grumble, for I Letter to 
 have had headache the last three days, and there Saturday,' 
 
 ^.^,. . c 4.1 • 1 • 1 Nov.C.') 1852. 
 
 seems little prospect oi anything else m such an 
 atmosphere. I am ready to vow that I will not 
 live in the Strand again after Christmas. If I
 
 224 
 
 Editor's Life. 
 
 [142 STRAND, 
 
 . ijetter to 
 the Brays, 
 Saturday, 
 Nov. (?^ 
 la5'2. ' 
 
 Letter to 
 the Brays, 
 Monday, 
 2nth Nov. 
 1852. 
 
 were not choked by the fog, the time would trot- 
 pleasantly withal ; but of what use are brains and 
 friends when one lives in a light such as might 
 be got in the chimney ? " Esmond " is the most un- 
 comfortable book you can imagine. You remember 
 how you disliked " Franyois le Champi. " Well, 
 the story of " Esmond " is just the same. The hero 
 is in love with the daughter all through the book, 
 and marries the mother at the end. You should 
 read the debates on the opening of Parliament in 
 the " Times. " Lord Brougham, the greatest of 
 English orators, perpetrates the most delicious non 
 sequitur I have seen for a long time. " My lords, 
 I believe that any disturbance of the repose of the 
 world is very remote, because it is our imdeniaUe 
 right and an unquestionable duty to be prepared 
 with the means of defence, should such an event 
 occur. " These be thy gods, Israel ! 
 
 I perceive your reading of the golden rule is 
 " Do as you are done by ; " and I shall be wiser 
 than to expect a letter from you another Monday 
 morning, when I have not earned it by my Satur- 
 day's billet. The fact is, both callers and work 
 thicken, — the former sadly interfering with the 
 latter. I will just tell you how it was last Satur- 
 day, and that will give you an idea of my days. 
 My task was to read an article of Greg's in the 
 " North British " on Taxation, a heap of newspaper 
 articles, and all that J. S. Mill says on the same 
 subject. When I had got some way into this mag- 
 num mare, in comes Mr. Chapman, with a thick 
 German volume. " Will you read enough of this 
 to give me your opinion of it ? " Then of course 
 I must have a walk after lunch, and when I had 
 sat down again, thinking that I had two clear
 
 1852.] Women to pay Licome-Tax. 225 
 
 hours before dinner, rap at the door, — Mr. Lewes, Letter to 
 who, of course, sits talking till the second bell ulS'!' 
 rings. After dinner another visitor, and so behold f^^^""^- 
 me, at 11 p.m., still very far at sea on the subject 
 of Taxation, but too tired to keep my eyes open. 
 We had Bryant the poet last evening, — a pleasant, 
 quiet, elderly man. Do you know of this second 
 sample of plagiarism by Disraeli, detected by the 
 " Morning Chronicle " ? ^ It is worth sending for 
 its cool impudence. Write me some news about 
 trade, at all events. I could tolerate even Louis 
 Napoleon, if somehow or other he could have a 
 favourable influence on the Coventry trade ! 
 
 Another week almost "with the years beyond Letter to the 
 the flood " ! What has it brought you ? To me Decf 18I2!' 
 it has brought articles to read, — for the most part 
 satisfactory, — new callers, and letters to nibble 
 at my time, and a meeting of the Association for 
 the Abolition of Taxes on Knowledge. I am in- 
 vited to go to the Leigh Smiths' on Monday even- 
 ing to meet Mr. Eobert Noel. Herbert Spencer 
 is invited too, because Mr. Noel wants especially 
 to see him. Barbara Smith speaks of Mr. E. Noel 
 as their " dear German friend. " So the Budget is 
 come out, and I am to pay income-tax. All very 
 right, of course. An enlightened personage like 
 me has no " ignorant impatience of taxation. " I 
 am glad to hear of the Lectures to Young Men and 
 the banquet of the Labourers' Friend Society. 
 " Be not weary in well-doing. " Thanks to Sara 
 for her letter. She must not mind paying the 
 income-tax: it is a right principle that Dizzy is 
 going upon ; and with her great conscientious- 
 
 1 Funeral oration on the Duke of Wellington. 
 
 VOL. I. — 15
 
 226 
 
 Mr. Edward Clarhe's Death. [142 strand, 
 
 Letter to the 
 Brays, 10th 
 Dec. 1852. 
 
 lietter to 
 Chas. Bray, 
 19th (?) 
 Dec. 1852. 
 
 Letter to 
 Chaa. Bray, 
 21st Dec. 
 1852. 
 
 Letter to 
 the Brays, 
 Christmas 
 D.ay, 25th 
 Dec. 1852, 
 from 
 Meriden, 
 
 ness she ought to enjoy being flayed on a right 
 principle. 
 
 I am not well, — all out of sorts, — and what do 
 you think I am minded to do ? Take a return 
 ticket, and set off by the train to-morrow 12 
 o'clock, have a talk with you and a blow over the 
 hill, and come back relieved on Monday. I the 
 rather indulge myself in this, because I think I 
 shall not be able to be with you until some time 
 after Christmas. Pray forgive me for not sending 
 you word before. I have only just made up my 
 mind. 
 
 This visit to Eosehill lasted only from the 
 11th to 13th December, and the following short 
 note is the next communication : — 
 I am very wretched to-day on many accounts, and 
 am only able to write you two or three lines. I 
 have heard this morning that Mr. Clarke is dan- 
 gerously ill. Poor Chrissey and her children! 
 Thank you for your kind letter. 
 
 I daresay you will have heard, before you re- 
 ceive this, that Edward Clarke is dead. I am 
 to go to the funeral, which will take place on 
 Friday. I am debating with myself as to what 
 I ought to do now for poor Chrissey, but I must 
 wait until I have been on the spot and seen my 
 brother. If you hear no more from me, I shall 
 trust to your goodness to give me a bed on Thurs- 
 day night. 
 
 Your love and goodness are a comforting presence 
 to me everywhere, whether I am ninety or only 
 nine miles away from you. Chrissey bears her 
 trouble much better than I expected. We hope 
 that an advantageous arrangement may be made 
 about the practice ; and there is a considerable
 
 1853.] Anxiety fur Mrs. Clarke. 227 
 
 sum in debts to be collected. I shall return to Letter to 
 town on Wednesday. It would have been a com- christ^^w 
 fort to see you again before going back, but there i)ec.'/852, 
 are many reasons for not doing so. I am satisfied Merluen. 
 now that my duties do not lie here, though the 
 dear creatures here will be a constant motive for 
 work and economy. 
 
 I arrived here only yesterday. I had agreed Letter to the 
 with Chrissey that, all things considered, it was Decrit^jf 
 wiser for me to return to town, — that I could 
 do her no substantial good by staying another 
 week, while I should be losing time as to other 
 matters. 
 
 I am out of spirits about the " Keview. " I Letter to the 
 should be glad to run away from it altogether, jan.^isoa.' 
 But one thing is clear, that it would be a great 
 deal worse if I were not here. This is the only 
 thought that consoles me. We are thinking of 
 sending Chrissey 's eldest boy to Australia. A 
 patient of his father's has offered to place him 
 under suitable protection at Adelaide, and I 
 strongly recommend Chrissey to accept her offer, 
 — that is, if she will let it be available a year 
 hence; so I have bought Sidney's book on Aus- 
 tralia, and am going to send it to Chrissey to en- 
 lighten her about matters there, and accustom her 
 mind to the subject. You are " jolly," I daresay, 
 as good people have a right to be. Tell me as 
 much of your happiness as you can, that I may 
 rejoice in your joy, having none of my own. 
 
 I begin to feel for other people's wants and sor- f;^^";;^*"^ 
 rows a little more than I used to do. Heaven Jan. 1853. 
 help us ! said the old religion ; the new one, from 
 its very lack of that faith, will teach us all the 
 more to help one another. Tell Sara she is as
 
 228 W. E. Forster on Slavery. [142 strand, 
 
 good as a group of spice islands to me ; she wafts 
 the pleasantest influences, even from a distance, 
 ^tter U) Pray do not lay the sins of the article on the 
 
 Henneii, Atomic thcory to poor Lewes 's charge. How you 
 1853. *"■ could take it for his I cannot conceive. It is as 
 remote from his style, both of thinking and writ- 
 ing, as anything can be. 
 Letter tothe This weck has yielded nothing to me but a croD 
 
 Brays, 18th n iiii mi ■"• 
 
 Jan. 1853. ot vcry large headaches. The pain has gone from 
 my head at last; but I am feeling very much shat- 
 tered, and find it easier to cry than to do anything 
 else. 
 
 Mr^mer ^^ complaint, of which I am now happily rid, 
 Tayiorfut was rlicumatism in the right arm, — a sufficient 
 
 Feb 1853 > ^ kj^iii\_/i\^i.iu 
 
 reason, you will see, for my employing a scribe to 
 write that promise which I now fulfil. I am 
 going into the country, perhaps for a fortnight, 
 so that if you are kind enough to come here on 
 Wednesday evening, I shall not have the pleasure 
 of seeing you. All the more reason for writing 
 to you, in spite of cold feet and the vilest pens 
 in the world. 
 
 Francis Newman is likely to come once or twice 
 in the season, — not more. He has, of course, a 
 multitude of engagements, and many more attrac- 
 tive ones than a soiree in the Strand. 
 
 Never mention me to him in the character of 
 Editress. I think — at least I am told — that he 
 has no high estimate of woman's powers and func- 
 tions. But let that pass. He is a very pure, 
 noble being, and it is good only to look at such. 
 
 The article on Slavery, in the last number of 
 the " Westminster," — which I think the best 
 article of them all, — is by W. E. Forster, a York- 
 shire manufacturer, who married Dr. Arnold's
 
 1853.] Interest in America. 229 
 
 daughter. He is a very earnest, independent Letter to 
 thinker, and worth a gross of literary hacks who Ta"io^!m 
 have the " trick " of writing. v^^.i^. 
 
 I hope you are interested in the Slavery ques- 
 tion, and in America generally, — that cradle of 
 the future. I used resolutely to turn away from 
 American politics, and declare that the United 
 States was the last region of the world I should 
 care to visit. Even now I almost loathe the com- 
 mon American type of character. But I am con- 
 verted to a profound interest in the history, 
 the laws, the social and religious phases of 
 North America, and long for some knowledge 
 of them. 
 
 Is it not cheering to think of the youthfulness 
 of this little planet, and the immensely greater 
 youthfulness of our race upon it? — to think that 
 the higher moral tendencies of human nature are 
 yet only in their germ ? I feel this more thor- 
 oughly when I think of that great Western Con- 
 tinent, with its infant cities, its huge uncleared 
 forests, and its unaraalgamated races. 
 
 I daresay you have guessed that the article on 
 Ireland is Harriet Marti neau's. Herbert Spencer 
 did not contribute to the last number. 
 
 Apropos of articles, do you see the " Prospective 
 Eeview " ? There is an admirable critique of 
 Kingsley's" Phaethon " in it, by James Martineau. 
 But perhaps you may not be as much in love with 
 Kingsley's genius, and as much "riled" by his 
 faults, as I am. 
 
 Of course you have read " Paith " by this time. 
 Its style was a great refreshment to me, from its 
 finish and fulness. How women have the courage 
 to write and publishers the spirit to buy at a high
 
 Feb. 1853. 
 
 230 3frs. GashelVs " Ruth." [142 strand, 
 
 Letter to ptice the false and feeble representations of life 
 Tayiorfi" ^nd chaiacter that most feminine novels give, is 
 a constant marvel to me. " Euth, " with all its 
 merits, will not be an enduring or classical fiction, 
 — will it ? Mrs. Gaskell seems to me to be con- 
 stantly misled by a love of sharp contrasts, — of 
 " dramatic " effects. She is not contented with 
 the subdued colouring, — the half tints of real life. 
 Hence she agitates one for the moment, but she 
 does not secure one's lasting sympathy; her scenes 
 and characters do not become typical. But how 
 pretty and graphic are the touches of description ! 
 That little attic in the minister's house, for ex- 
 ample, which, with its pure white dimity bed- 
 curtains, its bright-green walls, and the rich 
 brown of its stained floor, remind one of a snow- 
 drop springing out of the soil. Then the rich 
 humour of Sally, and the sly satire in the descrip- 
 tion of Mr. Bradshaw. Mrs. Gaskell has cer- 
 tainly a charming mind, and one cannot help 
 loving her as one reads her books. 
 
 A notable book just come out is Wharton's 
 " Summary of the Laws relating to Women. " " En- 
 franchisement of women " only makes creeping 
 progress ; and that is best, for woman does not 
 yet deserve a much better lot than man gives 
 her. 
 
 I am writing to you the last thing, and am so 
 tired that I am not quite sure whether I finish my 
 sentences. But your divining power will supply 
 their deficiencies. 
 
 The first half of Februq,ry was spent in visits 
 to the Brays and to Mrs. Clarke at Attleboro, 
 and on returning to London Miss Evans 
 writes : —
 
 1853.] " Villette" — Mr. Huxley. 231 
 
 I am only just returned to a sense of the real world letter to 
 about me, for I have been reading " Villette, " a still mih jvo.*' 
 more wonderful book than " Jane Eyre. " There is 
 something almost preternatural in its power. 
 
 Mrs. Follen showed me a delightful letter which Lottertothe 
 she has had from Mrs. Stowe, telling all about Keirik-b*:' 
 herself. She begins by saying : " I am a little bit 
 of a woman, rather more than forty, as withered 
 and dry as a pinch of snuff; never very well worth 
 looking at in my best days, and now a decidedly 
 used-up article. " The whole letter is most fas- 
 cinating, and makes one love her. 
 
 " Villette, " " Villette, " — have you read it ? 
 
 We had an agreeable evening on Wednesday, — Lettertothe 
 
 Brays 25th 
 
 a Mr. Huxley being the centre of interest. Since Feb. iW 
 then I have been headachy and in a perpetual rage 
 over an article that gives me no end of trouble, and 
 will not be satisfactory after all. I should like to 
 stick red-hot skewers through the writer, whose 
 style is as sprawling as his handwriting! For the 
 rest, I am in excellent spirits, though not in the 
 best health or temper. I am in for loads of work 
 next quarter, but I shall not tell you what I am 
 going to do. 
 
 I have been ready to tear my hair with disap- Lettertotiie 
 
 , , T /. 1 « T-. • >i Brays, IPtli 
 
 pointment about the next number oi the Keview. March, is53. 
 In short, I am a miserable editor. I think I shall 
 never have the energy to move, — it seems to be 
 of so little consequence where I am or what I do. 
 
 On Saturday I was correcting proofs literally Letter to 
 from morning till night ; yesterday ditto. The Hemiru? 
 " Eeview " will be better than I once feared, but i'^.**"'*^ 
 not so good as I once hoped. I suppose the 
 weather has chilled your charity as well as mine. 
 I am very hard and Mephistophelian just now,
 
 232 Growing Intimacy with Mr. Lewes. [142 strand^ 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Heimell, 
 28th March, 
 1853. 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Hennell, 
 11th April, 
 1853. 
 
 liBtter to 
 Mrs. Bray, 
 10th April, 
 1853. 
 
 but I lay it all to this second winter. We had 
 a pleasant evening last Wednesday. Lewes, as 
 always, genial and amusing. He has quite won 
 my liking, in spite of myself. Of course Mr. Bray 
 highly approves the recommendation of the Com- 
 missioners on Divorce. I have been to Blandford 
 Square (Leigh Smith's) to an evening party this 
 week. Dined at Mr. Parkes's on Sunday, and am 
 invited to go there again to-night to meet the 
 Smiths. Lewes was describing Currer Bell to me 
 yesterday as a little, plain, provincial, sickly- 
 looking old maid. Yet what passion, what fire in 
 her ! Quite as much as in George Sand, only the 
 clothing is less voluptuous. 
 
 What do you think of my going to Australia 
 with Chrissey and all her family ? — to settle 
 them, and then come back. I am just going to 
 write to her and suggest the idea. One wants 
 something to keep up one's faith in happiness, — 
 a ray or two for one's friends, if not for one's 
 self. 
 
 We had an agreeable soiree last Wednesday. I 
 fell in love with Helen Faucit. She is the most 
 poetic woman I have seen for a long time, — there 
 is the ineffable charm of a fine character which 
 makes itself felt in her face, voice, and manner. 
 I am taking doses of agreeable follies, as you recom- 
 mend. Last night I went to the French theatre, 
 and to-night I am going to the opera to hear 
 " William Tell. " People are very good to me. 
 Mr. Lewes especially is kind and attentive, and 
 has quite won my regard, after having had a good 
 deal of my vituperation. Like a few other people 
 in the world, he is much better than he seems. A 
 man of heart and conscience wearing a mask of
 
 1853,] Sir James Clark. — Rachel. 233 
 
 flippancy. When the warm days come, and the 
 bearskin is under the acacia, you must have me 
 again. 
 
 6th May. — 'Went to Rosehill and returned 
 on 23d to Strand. 
 On Wednesday I dined at Sir James Clark's, Letterto 
 where the Combes are staying, and had a very nthjmie^ 
 pleasant evening. The Combes have taken lodg- 
 ings in Oxford Terrace, where I mean to go. It is 
 better than the Strand, — trees waving before the 
 windows, and no noise of omnibuses. Last Satur- 
 day evening I had quite a new pleasure. We went 
 to see Eachel again, and sat on the stage between 
 the scenes. When the curtain fell, we walked 
 about and saw the green-room, and all the dingy, 
 dusty paraphernalia that make up theatrical splen- 
 dour. I have not yet seen the " Vashti " of Cnrrer 
 Bell in Rachel, though there was some approach 
 to it in Adrienne Lecouvreur. 
 
 On Saturday we will go to Ockley, near Dork- Letterto 
 
 Miss Sara 
 
 ing, where are staying Miss Julia Smith, Barbara Henneii, 
 Smith, and Bessie Parkes. I shall write to the isk ""*' 
 Ockley party to-day, and tell them of the prob- 
 ability that they will see you. 
 
 I never felt the delight of the thorough change Letterto 
 
 , ° /^ Mr?. Bray, 
 
 that the coast gives one so much as now, and 1 si a-j,. 
 shall l)e longing to be off with you again in sV.'Leonai-di 
 October. I am on a delightful hill looking over 
 the heads of the houses, and having a vast expanse 
 of sea and sky for my only view. The bright 
 weather and genial air — ■ so different from Avhat 
 I have had for a year before — make me feel as 
 happy and stupid as a well-conditioned cow. I 
 sit looking at the sea and the sleepy ships with a 
 purely animal hien etre.
 
 234 
 
 Visit to St. Leonards, [st. Leonards, 
 
 Letter to 
 Mr. Bray, 
 Sth Aug. 
 1853. 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Hennell, 
 18th Aug. 
 1853. 
 
 It would have been a satisfaction to your benev- 
 olence to see me sitting on the beach laughing at 
 the " Herald's " ^ many jokes, and sympathising 
 with your indignation against Judge Maule. It 
 always helps me to be happy when I know that 
 you are so ; but I do not choose to vindicate my- 
 self against doubts of that, because it is unworthy 
 of you to entertain them. I am going on as well 
 as possible physically, — really getting stout. I 
 should like to have a good laugh with you im- 
 mensely. How nice it would be to meet you and 
 Cara on the beach this evening, and instead of 
 sending you such a miserable interpreter of one's 
 feelings as a letter, give you the look and the 
 hand of warm affection ! This British Channel 
 really looks as blue as the Mediterranean to-day. 
 What weather ! 
 
 For the first time in my experience I am pos- 
 itively revelling in the " Prospective. " James 
 Martineau transcends himself in beauty of imagery 
 in the article on Sir William Hamilton, but I have 
 not finished him yet. Yesterday it rained sans 
 intermission, and of course I said ctii hono ? and 
 found my troubles almost more than I could bear ; 
 but to-day the sun shines, and there is blue above 
 and blue below, consequently I find life very glori- 
 ous, and myself a particularly fortunate diavolessa. 
 The landlord of my lodgings is a German, — 
 comes from Saxe-Weimar, knows well the Duchess 
 of Orleans, and talked to me this morning of Mr. 
 Schiller and Mr. Goethe. Aiiropos of Goethe, 
 there is a most true, discriminating passage about 
 him in the article on Shakspeare in the " Pro- 
 spective. " Mr. Goethe is one of my companions 
 
 1 Mr. Bray had become proprietor of the " Coventry Herald."
 
 1853.] " Frosjpective Eeview" 071 GoctJie. 235 
 
 here, and I had felt some days before reading the 
 
 passage the truth which it expresses. 
 
 Subjoined is the passage from the " Prospec- 
 tive Eeview " of August, 1853 : — 
 
 " Goethe's works are too much in the nature 
 of literary studies; the mind is often deeply 
 impressed by them, but one doubts if the author 
 was. He saw them as he saw the houses of 
 Weimar and the plants in the act of metamor- 
 phosis. He had a clear perception of their 
 fixed condition and their successive transitions, 
 but he did not really (at least so it seems to 
 us) comprehend their motive power. In a 
 word, he appreciated their life but not their 
 liveliness. . . . And we trace this not to a 
 defect in imaginative power, — a defect which 
 it would be a simple absurdity to impute to 
 Goethe, — but to the tone of his character and 
 the habits of his mind. He moved hither and 
 thither through life, but he was always a man 
 apart. He mixed with unnumbered kinds of 
 men, with courts and academies, students and 
 women, camps and artists, — but everywhere 
 he was with them, yet not of them. In every 
 scene he was there, and he made it clear that 
 he was there with a reserve and as a stranger. 
 He went there to experience. As a man of uni- 
 versal culture, and well skilled in the order 
 and classification of human life, the fact of 
 any one class or order being beyond his reach 
 or comprehension seemed an absurdity ; and it 
 was an absurdity. He thought that he was 
 equal to moving in any description of society, 
 and he was equal to it ; but then, on that 
 account, he was absorbed in none. "
 
 236 
 
 Change of Lodgings. [21 Cambridge st., 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Henuell, 
 19th Sept. 
 1853. 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Hennell, 
 1st Oct. 
 1853. 
 
 As for me, I am in the best health and spirits. 
 I have had a letter from Mr. Combe to-day urging 
 me to go to Edinburgh, but I have made an en- 
 gagement with Mr. Chapman to do work, which 
 will oblige me to remain in London. Mrs. P. is 
 a very bonny, pleasant-looking woman, with a 
 smart drawing-room and liberal opinions, — in 
 short, such a friend as self-interest, well under- 
 stood, would induce one to cultivate. I find it 
 difficult to meet v/ith any lodgings at once toler- 
 able and cheap. My theory is to live entirely — 
 that is, pay rent and find food — out of my posi- 
 tive income, and then work for as large a surplus 
 as I can get. The next number of the " Keview " 
 will be better than usual. Froude writes on the 
 Book of Job ! He at first talked of an article on 
 the three great subjective poems, — Job, Faust, 
 and Hamlet, — an admirable subject, — but it has 
 shrunk to the Book of Job alone. 
 
 I have been busied about my lodgings all after- 
 noon. I am not going to Albion Street, but to 21 
 Cambridge Street, Hyde Park Square. I hope you 
 will be pleased with our present number. If you 
 don't think the " Universal Postulate " first-rate, 
 I shall renounce you as a critic. Why don't you 
 write gnimbling letters to me when you are out of 
 humour with life, instead of making me ashamed 
 of myself for ever having grumbled to you ? I 
 have been a more good-for-nothing correspondent 
 than usual lately, — this affair of getting lodgings, 
 added to my other matters, has taken up my time 
 and thoughts. I have promised to do some work 
 to-night and to-morrow for a person ^ who is rather 
 
 J Correcting " Leader " proofs for Mr. Lewes.
 
 1853.] " Religion of the Heart" 237 
 
 more idle than myself, so I have not a moment to 
 spare. 
 
 I am reading " The Eeligion of the Heart " (Leigh Letter to 
 Hunt's), and am far more pleased with it than I Hennln* 
 expected to be. I have just fallen on two passages isos?^*' 
 with which you will agree. " Parker ... is full 
 of the poetry of religion ; Martineau equally so, 
 with a closer style and incessant eloquence of 
 expression, perhaps a perilous superabundance of 
 it as regards the claims of matter over manner ; 
 and his assumptions of perfection in the character 
 of Jesus are so reiterated and peremptory that in 
 a man of less evident heart and goodness they 
 might almost look like a very unction of insin- 
 cerity or of policy, — of doubt forcing itself to 
 seem undoubting. Hennell's ' Christian Theism ' 
 is one long beautiful discourse proclaiming the 
 great Bible of Creation, and reconciling Pagan and 
 Christian Philosophy. " 
 
 Good Sir James Clark stopped me in the Park 
 vesterday, as I was sauntering along with eyes on 
 the clouds, and made very fatherly inquiries about 
 me, urging me to spend a quiet evening with him 
 and Lady Clark next week, — which I will cer- 
 tainly do; for they are two capital people, without 
 any snobbery. I like my lodgings, — the house- 
 keeper cooks charming little dinners for me, and 
 I have not one disagreeable to complain of at 
 present, save such as are inseparable from a ground 
 floor. 
 
 Last night I saw the first fine specimen of a ^e""*" 
 man in the shape of a clercjyman that I ever met 29th Oct.* 
 
 J- vr>,/ 1853. 
 
 with, — Dawes, the Dean of Hereford. He is the 
 man who has been making the experiment of 
 mingling the middle and lower classes in schools.
 
 238 
 
 Universal Postulate" [21 Cambridge st., 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Hermell, 
 3d Nov. 
 1853. 
 
 Ijetter to 
 Mr. Bray, 
 5th Nov. 
 1853. 
 
 Letter to 
 Mrs. Hough- 
 ton, 7th 
 Nov. 1853. 
 
 He has a face so intelligent and benignant that 
 children might grow good by looking at it. Har- 
 riet Martineau called yesterday. She is going to 
 her brother's at Birmingham soon. 
 
 Mr. Lewes was at Cambridge about a fortnight 
 ago, and found that Herbert Spencer was a great 
 deal talked of there for the article on the Univer- 
 sal Postulate, as well as other things. Mr. Lewes 
 himself has a knot of devotees there who make his 
 " History of Philosophy " a private text-book. Miss 
 Martineau 's " Comte " is out now. Do you mean 
 to do it? or Mr. Lewes's? We can get no one 
 to write an article on Comte for the next number 
 of the " Westminster, " — Bain, our last hope, 
 refusing. 
 
 I think you would find some capital extracts for 
 the " Herald " (Coventry), in the article on Church 
 Parties in the " Edinburgh. " The " Ptecord " is at- 
 tempting a reply to it, in which it talks of the 
 truculent infidelity of Voltaire and Rolespierre ! 
 Has A. sent you his book on the Sabbath? If 
 ever I write a book, I will make a present of it 
 to nobody, — it is the surest way of taking off the 
 edge of appetite for it, if no more. I am as well 
 as possible, — and certainly when I put my head 
 into the house in the Strand, I feel that I have 
 gained, or rather escaped, a great deal physically 
 by my change. Have you known the misery of 
 writing with a tired steel pen, which is reluctant 
 to make a mark ? If so, you will know why I 
 leave off. 
 
 Chrissey has just sent me a letter, which tells 
 that you have been suffering severely, and that 
 you are yet very ill. I must satisfy my own feel- 
 ings, by telling you that I grieve at this, though
 
 1853.] Harriet Martineau. 239 
 
 it will do you little good to know it. Still, when Letter to 
 / am suffering, I do care for sympathy, and per- tont7u°"^^' 
 haps you are of the same mind. If so, think of ^"^•^''^ 
 me as your loving sister, who remembers all your 
 kindness to her, all the pleasant hours she has 
 had with you, and every little particular of her 
 intercourse with you, however long and far she 
 may have been removed from you. Dear Fanny, 
 I can never be indifferent to your happiness or sor- 
 row, and in this present sad affliction my thoughts 
 and love are with you. I shall teaze you with no 
 words about myself novj, — perhaps by-and-by it 
 will amuse you to have a longer letter. 
 
 Hitherto I have been spending £9 per month, — Letter to 
 at least after that rate, — but I have had frequent mi'uly!' 
 guests. I am exceedingly comfortable, and feel 
 quite at home now. Harriet Martineau has been 
 very kind, — called again on Tuesday, and yester- 
 day sent to invite me to go to Lady Compton's, 
 where she is staying, on Saturday evening. This, 
 too, in spite of my having vexed her by introduc- 
 ing Mr. Lewes to her, which I did as a desirable 
 bit of peacemaking. 
 
 I begin this year more happily than I have done Letter to 
 most years of my life. "Notre vraie destinde," Henneii,22d 
 says Comte, " se compose de resignation et cVac- (thirty- 
 tivite, " — and I seem more disposed to both than birthday). 
 I have ever been before. Let us hope that we 
 shall both get stronger by the year's activity, — 
 calmer by its resignation. I know it may be just 
 the contrary, — don't suspect me of being a cant- 
 ing optimist. We may both find ourselves at the 
 end of the year going faster to the hell of con- 
 scious moral and intellectual weakness. Still 
 there is a possibility — even a probability — the
 
 240 Troubles. [21 Cambridge st., 
 
 Letter to Other Way. I have not seen Harriet Martineau's 
 Heuneii, 22d " Comte " yet, — she is going to give me a copy, — 
 (thrrty-"" hut Mr. Lewes tells me it seems to him admirably 
 birthday), ^cll doue. I told Mr. Chapman yesterday that I 
 wished to give up any connection with the editor- 
 ship of the " Westminster. " He wishes me to con- 
 tinue the present state of things until April. I 
 shall be much more satisfied on many accounts to 
 have done with that affair; but I shall find the 
 question of supplies rather a difficult one this 
 year, as I am not likely to get any money either 
 for " Feuerbach " or for " The Idea of a Future 
 Life, " 1 for which I am to have " half profits " = § 1 
 I liope you will appreciate this hon mot as I do: 
 " C'est un homme admirable, — 11 se tait en sept 
 langues ! " ^ 
 Letter to I ^^^ gt>ing to detail all my troubles to you. In 
 
 MDec.'^i853. ^'^^ ^^st jjl^ce, the door of my sitting-room doesn't 
 quite fit, and a draught is the consequence. 
 Secondly, there is a piano in the house which 
 has decidedly entered on its second childhood, 
 and this piano is occasionally played on by Miss 
 P. with a really enviable aijloml. Thirdly, the 
 knocks at the door startle me, — an annoyance 
 inseparable from a ground-floor room. Fourthly, 
 Mrs. P. scolds the servants stri7igendo e fortissimo 
 while I am dressing in the morning. Fifthly, — 
 there is no fifthly. I really have not another diS'. 
 comfort when I am v/ell, which, alas ! I have not 
 been for the last ten days ; so, while I have been 
 up to the chin in possibilities of enjoyment, I 
 
 1 Advertis'^d in 1P5.3-54 as to appear hv "Marfan Evans" in 
 Chapman's Quarterly Series, but never published. 
 
 2 Lord Acton tells me he first heard this bon mot, in 1855, 
 related of Immanuel Bekker, the philologist.
 
 1854.] Meets Arthur Helps. 241 
 
 iiave been too sick and headachy to use them. 
 One thing is needful, — a good digestion. 
 
 Spent Christmas Day alone at Cambridge Street. Letter to 
 How shall I thank you enough for sending me that ?sthDecf' 
 splendid barrel of beet-root, so nicely packed ? I ^^^' 
 shall certainly eat it and enjoy it, which, I fancy, 
 is the end you sought, and not thanks. Don't 
 suppose that I am looking miserable, — au con- 
 traire. My only complaints just now are idle- 
 ness and dislike-to-getting-up-in-the-morningness, 
 whereby the day is made too short for what I w'ant 
 to do. I resolve every day to conquer the flesh 
 the next, and, of course, am a little later in con- 
 sequence. I dined with Arthur Helps yesterday 
 at Sir James Clark's, — very snug, — only he and 
 myself. He is a sleek man, with close-snipped 
 hair ; has a quiet, humorous way of talking, like 
 his books. 
 
 At the beginning of January, 1854, there was 
 another visit to Mrs. Clarke at Attleboro for 
 ten days. 
 In the last number of the " Scotsman" which I sent Letter to 
 you, there was a report of a speech by Dr. Guthrie tsttTFeb."^*^' 
 at the Education meeting, containing a passage 
 which I meant to have copied. He is speaking of 
 the impossibility of teaching morality with the 
 "Bible shut," and says that in that case the 
 teacher would be obliged to resort to " congruity 
 and the fitness of things, " about which the boy 
 knows nothing more than that the apple is fit for 
 his mouth. What is wanted to convince the boy 
 of his sin is, " Thou God seest me, " and " Thou 
 bleeding Lamb, the best morality is love of Thee " ! ! 
 Mr. Lewes came a few minutes after you left, and de- 
 sired me to tell you that he was sorry to miss you. 
 
 VOL. I — 16
 
 242 
 
 Mr. Lewes III, [21 Cambridge st., 
 
 Letter to 
 Mrs. Hough 
 tou, 6tfa 
 AprU, 1854. 
 
 Letter to 
 Mrs. Bray, 
 Saturday, 
 ISth April, 
 1854. 
 
 Thank you for your very kind letter, which I 
 ■ received this morning. It is pleasant to think of 
 you as quite well, and enjoying your sea breezes. 
 
 But do you imagine me sitting with my hands 
 crossed, ready to start for any quarter of the world 
 at the shortest notice ? It is not on those terms 
 that people, not rich, live in London. I shall be 
 deep in proof-sheets till the end of May, and shall 
 only dismiss them to make material for new ones. 
 I daresay you will pity me. But as one of Balzac's 
 characters says, after maturity, " La vie n'est que 
 I'exerciced'une habitude dans un milieu pr^fdr^ ; " 
 and I could no more live out of my milieu than the 
 haddocks I daresay you are often having for dinner. 
 
 My health is better. I had got into a labyrinth 
 of headaches and palpitations, but I think I am out 
 of it now, and I hope to keep well. I am not the 
 less obliged to you, dear Fanny, for wishing to 
 have me with you. But to leave London now 
 would not be agreeable to me, even if it were 
 morally possible. To see you again would cer- 
 tainly be a pleasure, but I hope that will come to 
 pass without my crossing the Irish Channel. 
 
 I am rather overdone with the week's work, and 
 the prospect of what is to come next. Poor Lewes 
 is ill, and is ordered not to put pen to paper for 
 a month; so I have something to do for him in 
 addition to my own work, which is rather press- 
 ing. He is gone to Arthur Helps, in Hampshire, 
 for ten days, and I really hope this total cessation 
 from work, in obedience to a peremptory order, 
 will end in making him better than he has been 
 for the last year. No opera and no fun for me 
 for the next month ! Happily I shall have no 
 time to regret it. Plenty of bright sun on your
 
 1854.] Seclusion. 243 
 
 anemone bed. How lovely your place must look 
 with its fresh leaves ! 
 
 It is quite possible that I may wish to go to the Letter to 
 Continent, or twenty other things. Mr. Lewes is ^d^ni^"^' 
 going on a walking excursion to Windsor to-day ^^^" 
 with his doctor, who pronounces him better, but 
 not yet fit for work. However, he is obliged to 
 do a little, and must content himself with an 
 ap'pi'oximation to his doctor's directions. In this 
 world all things are approximations, and in the 
 system of the Dog Star too, in spite of Dr. 
 Whewell. 
 
 My troubles are purely psychical, — self-dis- Letter to 
 satisfaction, and despair of achieving anything Fdday,"^no 
 worth the doing. I can truly say they vanish "^ ^' 
 into nothing before any fear for the happiness of 
 those I love. Thank you for letting me know how 
 things are, for indeed I could not bear to be shut 
 out from your anxieties. Wlien I spoke of myself 
 as an island, I did not mean that I was so excep- 
 tionally. We are all islands, — 
 
 " Each in his hidden sphere of joy or woe. 
 
 Our hermit spirits dwell and roam apart," — 
 
 and this seclusion is sometimes the most intensely 
 felt at the very moment your friend is caressing 
 you or consoling you. But this gradually becomes 
 a source of satisfaction instead of repining. When 
 we are young, we think our troubles a mighty busi- 
 ness, • — that the world is spread out expressly as 
 a stage for the particular drama of our lives, and 
 that we have a right to rant and foam at the 
 mouth if we are crossed. I have done enough of 
 that in my time. But we begin at last to under- 
 stand that these things are important only to our
 
 244 
 
 Vestris. [21 Cambridge st. 
 
 Latter to 
 Mrs. Bray, 
 Friday, no 
 date, 1854. 
 
 Letter to 
 Mrs. Bray, 
 Tuesday, 
 Gth June, 
 1854. 
 
 Letter to 
 Mrs. Bray, 
 Wednesday, 
 28th June, 
 1851. 
 
 own consciousness, which is but as a globule of dew 
 on a rose-leaf, that at mid-day there will be no 
 trace of. This is no high-flown sentimentality, 
 but a simple reflection, which I find useful to me 
 every day. I expect to see Mr. Lewes back again 
 to-day. His poor head — his only fortune — is 
 not well yet; and he has had the misery of being 
 ennuye with idleness, without perceiving the com- 
 pensating physical improvement. Still, I hope 
 the good he has been getting has been greater than 
 he has been conscious of. I expect " Feuerbach" 
 will be all in print by the end of next week, and 
 there are no skippings, except such as have been 
 made on very urgent grounds. 
 
 Thanks for your assurance of welcome. I will 
 trust to it when the gods send favourable circum- 
 stances. But I see no probability of my being 
 able to be with you before your other midsummer 
 visitors arrive. I delight to think that you are 
 all a little more cheery. 
 
 I reached the Euston Station as dusty as an old 
 ledger, but with no other " incommodity. " I went 
 to the Lyceum last night to see " Sunshine through 
 the Clouds," ^ a wonderfully original and beautiful 
 piece by Mme. de Girardin, which makes one cry 
 rather too much for pleasure. Vestris acts finely 
 the bereaved mother, passing through all the gra- 
 dations of doubt and hope to the actual recovery of 
 her lost son. My idea of you is rather bright just 
 now, and really helps to make me enjoy all that 
 is enjoyable. That is part of the benefit I have 
 had from my pleasant visit, which was made up 
 of sunshine, green fields, pleasant looks, and good 
 
 1 Translaterl and adapted from the French, " La joie fait peur," 
 by Mr. Lewes, under the name of Slingsby Lawrence.
 
 1854.] Translation of Fcuerhach. 245 
 
 eatables, — an excellent compound. Will you be 
 so kind as to send my books by railway, ivithout 
 the Shelley ? 
 
 Pray consider the Strauss MSS. waste paper, /Letter to 
 shall never want them again. I dined with your Moudayf^' 
 old acquaintance, Dr. ConoUy, at Sir James i^"!"'^' 
 Clark's, the other day. He took me down to 
 dinner, and we talked of you. 
 
 The translation of Ludwigreuerbach's"Wesen 
 des Christenthums " was published in July in 
 Chapman's Quarterly Series, with Miss Evans's 
 name on the titlepageas the translator; the first 
 and only time her real name appeared in print. 
 I am going to pack up the Hebrew Grammar, the Letter to 
 
 A 1 T /"( 1 1 ; , m ■ • . ^ Miss Sara 
 
 Apocryphal (iospels, and your pretty iitian, to be Hemieii, 
 sent to you. Shall I despatch them by rail or i854. '^^' 
 deposit them with Mr. Chapman to be asked for 
 by Mr. Bray when he comes to town ? I shall 
 soon send you a good-bye, for I am preparing to 
 go abroad ( ?). Herbert Spencer's article on the 
 Genesis of Science is a good one. He will stand in 
 the Biographical Dictionaries of 1954 as " Spencer, 
 Herbert, an original and profound philosophical 
 writer, especially known by his great work, . . , 
 which gave a new impulse to psychology, and haa 
 mainly contributed to the present advanced posi- 
 tion of that science, compared with that which it 
 had attained in the middle of the last century. 
 The life of this philosopher, like that of the great 
 Kant, offers little material for the narrator. Born 
 in the year 1820," &c. 
 
 Dear friends, — all three, — I have only time to ^^^'""tothe 
 
 ' ' •' Brays, 20th 
 
 say good-bye, and God bless you. Foste Bestante, Juiy, 1854. 
 Weimar, for the next six weeks, and afterwards 
 Berlin. Ever your loving and grateful Marian.
 
 246 Union with Mr. Lewes. [london, 
 
 We have now been led up to the most impor- 
 tant event in George Eliot's life, — ^her union 
 with Mr. George Henry Lewes. Here, as else- 
 where, it seems to me to be of the first import- 
 ance that she should speak for herself ; and 
 there is, fortunately, a letter to Mrs. Bray, dated 
 in September, 1855, — fourteen months after 
 the event, — which puts on record the point of 
 view from which she regarded her own action. 
 I give this letter here (out of its place as to 
 date) ; and I may add — what, I think, has not 
 been mentioned before — that not only was 
 Mr. Lewes 's previous family life irretrievably 
 spoiled, but his home had been wholly broken 
 up for nearly two years. In forming a judgment 
 on so momentous a question, it is above all 
 things necessary to understand what was actually 
 undertaken, — what was actually achieved, — 
 and, in my opinion, this can best be arrived 
 at, not from any outside statement or argu- 
 ments, but by consideration of the whole tenor 
 of the life which follows, in the development 
 of which Mr. Lewes 's true character, as well 
 as George Eliot's, will unfold itself. No words 
 that any one else can write, no arguments any 
 one else can use, will, I think, be so impressive 
 as the life itself. 
 Letter to If there is any one action or relation of my life 
 4trsep'ty' which is and always has been profoundly serious, 
 it is my relation to Mr. Lewes. It is, however, 
 natural enough that you should mistake me in 
 many ways, for not only are you unacquainted 
 with Mr. Lewes 's real character and the course of 
 his actions, but also it is several years now since 
 you and I were much together, and it is possible 
 
 1855,
 
 1855.] Union with Mr. Lewes. 247 
 
 that the modifications my mind has undergone Letter to 
 
 , . T .• i; 1 i. Mrs. Bray, 
 
 may be quite in the opposite direction oi what 4tii sept. 
 you imagine. No one can be better aware than 
 yourself that it is possible for two people to hold 
 different opinions on momentous subjects with 
 equal sincerity, and an equally earnest conviction 
 that their respective opinions are alone the truly 
 moral ones. If we differ on the subject of the 
 marriage laws, I at least can believe of you that 
 you cleave to what you believe to be good; and I 
 don't know of anything in the nature of your 
 views that should prevent you from believing 
 the same of me. How far we differ, I think v/e 
 neither of us know, for I am ignorant of your pre- 
 cise views ; and apparently you attribute to me 
 both feelings and opinions which are not mine. 
 We cannot set each other quite right in this mat- 
 ter in letters, but one thing I can tell you in few 
 words. Light and easily broken ties are what I 
 neither desire theoretically nor could live for prac- 
 tically. Women who are satisfied with such ties 
 do not act as I have done. That any unworldly, 
 unsuperstitious person who is sufficiently ac- 
 quainted with the realities of life can pronounce 
 my relation to Mr. Lewes immoral, I can only 
 understand by remembering how subtle and com- 
 plex are the influences that mould opinion. But 
 I do remember this : and I indulge in no arro- 
 gant or uncharitable thoughts about those who con- 
 demn us, even though we might have expected a 
 somewhat different verdict. From the majority of 
 persons, of course, we never looked for anything but 
 condemnation. We are leading no life of self-indul- 
 gence, except indeed that, being happy in each 
 other, we find everything easy. We are working 
 
 K
 
 1855. 
 
 248 Union with Mr. Lewes. 
 
 Letter to hard to provide for others better than we provid? 
 
 4tirsept'!^' for ourselves, and to fulfil every responsibility that 
 lies upon us. Levity and pride would not be a 
 sufficient basis for that. Pardon me if, in vindi- 
 cating myself from some unjust conclusions, I 
 seem too cold and self-asserting. I should not 
 care to vindicate myself if I did not love you and 
 desire to relieve you of the pain which you say 
 these conclusions have given you. Whatever I 
 may have misinterpreted before, I do not misin- 
 terpret your letter this morning, but read in it 
 nothing else than love and kindness towards me, 
 to which my heart fully answers yes. I should 
 like never to write about myself again ; it is not 
 healthy to dwell on one's own feelings and con- 
 duct, but only to try and live more faithfully and 
 lovingly every fresh day. I think not one of the 
 endless words and deeds of kindness and forbear- 
 ance you have ever shown me has vanished from 
 my memory. I recall them often, and feel, as 
 about everything else in the past, how deficient 
 I have been in almost every relation of my life. 
 But that deficiency is irrevocable, and I can find 
 no strength or comfort except in " pressing forward 
 towards the things that are before," and trying to 
 make the present better than the past. .♦ But if we 
 should never be very near each other again, dear 
 Cara, do bear this faith in your mind, that I was 
 not insensible or ungrateful to all your goodness, 
 and that I am one amongst the many for whom 
 you have not lived in vain. I am very busy just 
 now, and have been obliged to write hastily. 
 Bear this in mind, and believe that no meaning 
 is mine which contradicts my assurance that I am 
 your affectionate and earnest friend.
 
 Summary uf Chapter V. 249 
 
 SUMMARY, 
 
 . MAKCH, 1850, TO JULY, 1854. 
 
 Return to England with M. D'Albert — Depressing effect of 
 change — Visit to Kosehill — Visit to brother and sister at Griff 
 and Merideu — Deeper depression — To Rosehill again with M. 
 D'Albert — Makes her home there for sixteen months — Reviews 
 MacJia^^'s " Progress of tlie Intidleet " in " Westminster " — Meets 
 Mr. Chapman, the editor of the " Westminster " — Helps to settle 
 Prospectus of new series of the "Review" — Visits Robert Noel 
 at Bishop Steiguton witli Mrs. Eray — Visit to London — Crystal 
 Palace — Returns to Rosehill, and meets Mr. and Mrs. George 
 Combe — Goes to London as assistant editor of the " Westminster 
 Review " — Letters to Brays — Review writing : Dr. Braliant, 
 Foxton, Wilson — Meets Mr. Herbert Spencer — Miss Martiueau 
 
 — Distractions of Loudon — Low health — Miss Bremer — In- 
 troduction to Mr. Lewes — Opinion of House of Lords — Carlyle's 
 " Life of Sterling" — Carlyle anecdotes — Mackay — James Mar- 
 tiueau — J. H. Newman's Lectures — Translation of Schleiermacher 
 
 — Letter from Carlyle — Intimacy begins with Mr. Lewes — 
 Reviews Carlyle's " Sterling" in "Westminster " — Visit to Rose- 
 hill — Returns to Strand — Harriet Martineau — Pierre Leroux — 
 Louis Blanc — Miss Bessie Parkes — Mrs. Peter Taylor — "Mar- 
 garet Fuller's Life " — Description of " Westminster " reviewers 
 
 — Growing intimacy with Mr. Herbert Spencer — Meeting of 
 authors and booksellers at Mr. Chapman's — Admiration of Prince 
 Albert — Grisi — Hack work of "Review" — Appreciation of 
 Miss Martineau's writings — Singing of Cliarity children at St. 
 Paul's — George Combe's opinion of " Westminster " editing — 
 Barbara Leigh Smith — Visit to Broadstairs — Florence Nightin- 
 gale — Return to Strand — Depression — Professor Owen on the 
 Cerebellum — Visit to Combes at Edinburgh, and to Harriet Mar- 
 tineau at Ambleside — Return to London — Reading " Esmond " 
 
 — Lord Brougham's speech — Work in Strand — Bryant — Visit 
 to Rosehill — Death of Edward Clarke — Visit to widowed sister 
 at Meriden — Return to Strand — Letter to Mrs. Peter Taylor — 
 Views on America — " Ruth " — Visit to Rosehill and to Mrs. 
 Clarke at Attleboro — Return to Strand — Reading " Villette " — 
 Letter from Mrs. Stowe to Mrs. Follen — Meets Huxley — Thinks 
 of going to Australia to settle Mrs. Clarke — Admiration of Helen 
 Faucit — Growing regard for Mr. Lewes — Kindness of Sir James
 
 250 Summary of Chapter V. 
 
 Clark — Visit to Ockley — Change to St. Leonards — Improve- 
 ment in health — Return to Strand — Spencer's " Universal Pos- 
 tulate" — Removal to 21 Cambridge Street — Leigh Hunt's 
 "Religion of the Heart" — Dawes, Lean of Hereford — Harriet 
 Martiiieau — Comte — Contemplates publishing "The Idea of a 
 Future Life" — Meets Arthur Helps — Intimate relations with 
 Mr. Lewes — Translation of Feuerbach — Visit to Rosehill — 
 Return to London — Feuerbach completed — Estimate of Herbert 
 Spencer — Good-bye to Brays — Union with Mr. Lewes — Letter 
 to Mrs. Bray thereon.
 
 CHAPTEE VL 
 
 I SAID a last farewell to Cambridge Street on 20th joumai, 
 July, 1854, and found myself on board the Eavens- it;54. ^' 
 bourne, bound for Antwerp. The day was glo- 
 rious, and our passage perfect. The sunset was 
 lovely, but still lovelier the dawn as we were 
 passing up the Scheldt between two and three in 
 the morning. The crescent moon, the stars, the 
 first faint blush of the dawn reflected in the glassy 
 river, the dark mass of clouds on the horizon, 
 which sent forth flashes of lightning, and the 
 graceful forms of the boats and sailing-vessels, 
 painted in jet-black on the reddish gold of the 
 sky and water, made up an unforgettable picture. 
 Then the sun rose and lighted up the sleepy shores 
 of Belgium, with their fringe of long grass, their 
 rows of poplars, their church-spires and farm- 
 buildings. 
 
 The great treat at Antwerp was the sight of the 2istJuiy. 
 Descent from the Cross, which, with its pendant, 
 the Elevation of the Cross, has been undergoing 
 restoration. In the latter, the face of Jesus is 
 sublime in its expression of agony and trust in 
 the Divine. It is certainly the finest conception 
 of the suffering Christ I have ever seen. The rest 
 of the picture gave me no pleasure. But in the 
 Descent from the Cross, colour, form, and expres- 
 sion alike impressed me with the sense of grandeur 
 and beauty. A little miserable copy of the picture 
 placed near it served as an admirable foil.
 
 252 
 
 Tlie Dichter Zimmer. 
 
 [WEIMAE 
 
 Journal, 
 L'-Jd July. 
 
 30th July. 
 
 Weimar, 
 
 We went to the museum and sawEubens's Cruci- 
 fixion, even more beautiful to me than the Descent 
 from the Cross. These two pictures profoundly 
 impressed me with the miserable lack of breadth 
 and grandeur in the conceptions of our living 
 artists. The reverence for the old masters is not 
 all huml)ug and superstition. 
 
 We breakfasted in the public room at the hotel 
 at Cologne, and were joined there by Dr. Brabant 
 and Strauss. After a short interview with them, 
 we went on board the steamboat which was to 
 take us to Coblentz. 
 
 It was very pretty to look out of the window, 
 
 Aug!-oct?°' when dressing, on a garden that reminded one of 
 
 ^**** an English village : the town is more like a huge 
 
 village, or market-town, than the precincts of a 
 
 court. 
 
 G. called on Scholl, and in the afternoon he 
 (Sch()ll) came and took us to the Schloss, where 
 we saw the Dichter Zimmer, — a suite of rooms 
 dedicated to Goethe, Schiller, and Wieland. In 
 each room there is the bust of the poet who is its 
 presiding genius ; and the walls of the Goethe and 
 Schiller rooms are decorated with frescos, repre- 
 senting scenes from their works. The Wieland 
 room is decorated with arabesques only. The 
 idea of these rooms is a very pretty one, but 
 the frescos are badly executed. I am delighted 
 with Scholl. He is a bright-looking, well-made 
 German, with his head finely set on his shoulders, 
 very little like a German. We discovered, after 
 we had known him some time, that he is an 
 Austrian, and so has more southern blood in his 
 veins than the heavy Thuringians. His manners 
 are hearty and cordial, and his conversation really
 
 1854.] Excursion to Mtershurg. 253 
 
 instructive : his ideas are so thoroughly shaped weimar, 
 
 , , . , , 1 M -1 Description, 
 
 and so admirably exj^ressed. feauppe is also a Aug.-oct. 
 Gelehrter, Director of the Gymnasium, and editor 
 of a series of Classics which are being brought 
 out; and he is evidently thought a great deal of in 
 Weimar. We went with the Scholls and Sauppes 
 to Tiefurt, and saw the queer little Schloss which 
 used to be Amalia's residence. Tiefurt was a 
 favourite resort of ours, for the walk to it is a 
 very pleasant one, and the Tiefurt park is a little 
 paradise. The Ilm is seen here to the best advan- 
 tage : it is clearer than at Weimar, and winds 
 about gracefully among fine trees. One of the 
 banks is a high steep declivity, which shows the 
 trees in all their perfection. In autumn, when 
 the yellow and scarlet were at their brightest, 
 these banks were fairy-like in their beauty. It 
 was here that Goethe and his Court friends got 
 up the performance of " Die Fischerin " by torch- 
 light. 
 
 About ten days after our arrival at Weimar, we 
 made an excursion to Ettersburg, one of the Duke's 
 summer residences, interesting to us beforehand 
 as the scene of private theatricals and sprees in 
 the Goethe days. We carried provisions with us 
 and Keats 's poems. The morning was one of the 
 brightest and hottest that August ever bestowed, 
 and it required some resolution to trudge along the 
 shadeless chaiissee, which formed the first two or 
 three miles of our way. One compensating pleas- 
 ure was the sight of the beautiful mountain ashes 
 in full berry which, alternately with cherry-trees, 
 border the road for a considerable distance. I felt 
 a child's love for the bunches of coral standing 
 out against the blue sky. The Schloss is a house
 
 254 Arthur Hdjps. [weimak, 
 
 Weimar, of Very moderate size, and no pretension of any 
 Aug'-oit°°' kind. Two liights of steps lead up to the door, and 
 '*^- the balustrades are ornamented with beautiful 
 
 creepers. A tiny sort of piazza under the steps 
 is ornamented with creepers too, and has pretty 
 earthenware vases filled with plants hanging from 
 the ceiling. We felt how much beauty might 
 be procured at small expense in looking at these 
 things. A beautiful walk through a beechwood 
 took us to the Mooshutte, before which stands the 
 beech whereon Goethe and his friends cut their 
 names, and from which Goethe denounced Walde- 
 mar. We could recognise some of the initials. 
 With Ettersburg I shall always associate Arthur 
 Helps, for he was with us on the second and last 
 time we saw it. He came to Weimar quite unex- 
 pectedly on the 29th August, and the next even- 
 ing we nil three drove to Ettersburg. He said 
 the country just round Weimar reminded him of 
 Spain. This led him to talk of his Spanish 
 travels, and he told us some delightful stories in 
 a delightful way. At one inn he was considerably 
 embarrassed in eating his dinner by the presence 
 of a handsome woman, who sat directly opposite 
 to him, resting on her elbows, and fixing her dark 
 eyes on him with a fearful intensity of interest. 
 This woman was the cook, anxious to know that 
 licr dishes were acceptable to the stranger. Under 
 this tei-rible surveillance, he did not dare to omit 
 a single dish, though sorely longing to do so. 
 
 Our greatest expedition from Weimar was to 
 Ilnienau. We set out with a determination to 
 find the Gabel-Bach and Kickel-hahn (Goethe's 
 residence) without the incumbrance of a guide. 
 We found the man who inhabits the simple wooden
 
 1854.] Expedition to Hmenau. 255 
 
 house, which used to be Carl August's hunting- weimar, 
 box. He sent a man on with us to show us the Aug"oct'*' 
 way to the Kickel-hahn, which we at last reached, ^^^' 
 — I with weary legs. There is a magnificent view 
 of hills from this spot; but Goethe's tiny wooden 
 house is now closely shut in by fir-trees, and 
 uothiug can be seen from the windows. His 
 room, which forms the upper floor of the house, 
 is about ten or twelve feet square. It is now 
 quite empty, but there is an interesting memorial 
 of his presence in these wonderful lines, written 
 by his own hand, near the window-frame, — 
 
 " Ueber alien Gipfeln 
 1st Ruh, 
 
 In alien Wipfeln 
 Spiirest du 
 Kaum einen Hauch ; 
 Die Vogelein schweigen im Walde. 
 Warte nur, balde 
 Euhest du auch." 
 
 We wrote our names near one of the windows. 
 
 About the middle of September the theatre 
 opened, and w^e went to hear " Ernani. " Liszt 
 looked splendid as he conducted the opera. The 
 grand outline of his face and floating hair were 
 seen to advantage as they were thrown into dark 
 relief by the stage lamps. We were so fortunate 
 as to have all three of Wagner's most celebrated 
 operas while we were at Weimar. G. , however, 
 had not patience to sit out more than two acts of 
 " Lohengrin ;" and, indeed, I too was weary. The 
 declamation appeared to me monotonous, and situ- 
 ations, in themselves trivial or disagreeable, were 
 dwelt on fatiguingly. Without feeling competent 
 to pass a judgment on this opera as music, one
 
 256 Wagner's Operas. [weimar, 
 
 Weimar, may veiiture to say that it fails in one grand 
 Aug!-oct°"' requisite of art, based on an unchangeable element 
 ^^^ in human nature, — the need for contrast. With 
 
 the " riiegender Hollander" I was delighted ; the 
 poem and the music were alike charming. The 
 " Tannhiiuser, " too, created in me a great desire 
 to hear it again. Many of the situations, and 
 much of the music, struck me as remarkably fine. 
 And I appreciated these operas all the better retro- 
 spectively when we saw " Der Freischiitz, " which 
 I had never before heard and seen on the stage. 
 The effect of the delicious music, with which one 
 is so familiar, was completely spoiled by the ab- 
 sence of recitative and the terrible lapsus from 
 melody to ordinary speech. The bacchanalian 
 song seemed simply ridiculous, sung at a little 
 pot-house table at a party of two, one of whom was 
 sunk in melancholy; and the absurdity reached 
 a ne j^^ns ultra, when Caspar climbed the tree, 
 apparently with the sole purpose of being shot. 
 Aprox)os of the theatre, we were immensely amused 
 to learn that a fair, small-featured man, who some 
 how always looked to me as if he had just com- 
 out of the shell, had come to Weimar to fit him- 
 self for a dramatic writer by going behind the 
 scenes ! He had as yet written nothing, but was 
 going to work in what he considered a griXndlich 
 way. 
 
 When we passed along the Schiller Strasse, I 
 used to be very much thrilled by the inscription, 
 " Hier wohnte Schiller," over the door of his small 
 house. Very interesting it is to see his study, 
 which is happily left in its original state. In h'ig 
 bedroom we saw his skull for the first time, and 
 were amazed at the smaUness of the intellectual
 
 1854.] Goethe's House. 257 
 
 region. There is an intensely interesting sketch weimai, 
 of Schiller lying dead, which I saw for the first Aug'^-oct. 
 time in the study ; but all pleasure in thinking of 
 Schiller's portraits and bust is now destroyed to 
 me by the conviction of their untruthfulness. 
 Eauch told us that he had a miserable Stirne.'^ 
 Waagen says that Tieck the sculptor told him 
 there was something in Schiller's whole person 
 which reminded him of a camel. 
 
 Goethe's house is much more important-looking, 
 but, to English eyes, far from being the palatial 
 residence which some German writers think it. The 
 entrance-hall is certainly rather imposing, with its 
 statues in niches and broad staircase. The latter 
 was made after his own design, and was an 
 " aftershine " of Italian tastes. The pictures are 
 wretched, the casts not much better, — indeed, I 
 remember nothing which seemed intrinsically 
 worth looking at. The MS. of his " Romische 
 Elegien" written by himself, in the Italian char- 
 acter, is to be seen here ; and one likes to look at 
 it better than at most of the other things. G. 
 had obtained permission from Frau v. Goethe to 
 see the studio and Schlafzimmer, which are not 
 open to the public, and here our feelings were 
 deeply moved. We entered first a small room 
 containing; drawers and shelves devoted to his 
 mineralogical collections. From these we passed 
 into the study. It is rather a dark room, for there 
 are only two small windows, — German windows. 
 A plain deal table stands in the middle, and near 
 the chair, against this table, is a high basket 
 where, I was afterwards told, Goethe used to put 
 his pocket-handkerchief. A long sort of writing- 
 
 1 A wretched forehead. 
 VOL. I. — 17
 
 1854< 
 
 258 The Gartenhaus. [aveimab, 
 
 Weimar, table and bookcase united stands against one wall. 
 
 fug?-c?etf°' Here hangs the pin-cushion, just as he left it, 
 with visiting-cards suspended on threads, and 
 other trifles which greatness and death have made 
 sacred. Against the opposite wall, where you 
 enter the bedroom, there is a high writing-desk, 
 on which stands a little statue of Napoleon in 
 creamy glass. The bedroom is very small. By 
 the side of the bed stands a stuffed arm-chair, 
 where he used to sit and read while he drank his 
 cofi'ee in the morning. It was not until very late 
 in his life that he adopted the luxury of an arm- 
 chair. From the other side of the study one enters 
 the library, which is fitted up in a very makeshift 
 fashion, with rough deal shelves, and bits of paper, 
 with Philosophy, History, &c. , written on them 
 to mark the classification of the books. Among 
 such memorials one breathes deeply, and the tears 
 rush to one's eyes. There is one likeness of 
 Goethe that is really startling and thrilling from 
 the idea it gives one of perfect resemblance. It is 
 painted on a cup, and is a tiny miniature, but the 
 execution is so perfect that, on applying a mag- 
 nifying-glass, every minute stroke has as natural 
 an appearance as the texture of a flower or the 
 parts of an insect under the microscope. 
 
 Equally interesting is the Gartenhaus, which 
 ■we used to see almost every day in our walks. 
 "Within, it is a not uncomfortable homely sort of 
 cottage ; no furniture is left in it, and the family 
 want to sell it. It stands on a pleasant slope 
 fronting the west, and there is a charming bit of 
 garden and orchard attached to it. Close to the 
 garden hedge runs the road which leads to Ober 
 Weimar, and on the other side of this road a
 
 1854.] Walks at Weimar. 259 
 
 meadow stretches to the trees which border the weimar, 
 Ilm. A bridge nearly opposite the Gartenhaus Aug!-oct°'^ 
 takes one to the Borkenhaus, Carl August's little ^^^ 
 retreat, from which he used to telegraph to Goethe, 
 The road to Ober Weimar was one of our favourite 
 walks, especially towards the end of our stay at 
 Weimar, when we were glad of all the sunshine 
 we could get. Sometimes we used to turn out 
 of it, up a grove of weeping birches, into the 
 ploughed fields at the top of the slope on which 
 the Gartenhaus and other little villas stand. Here 
 we enjoyed many a lovely sunset : one in particu- 
 lar was marvellously splendid. The whole hemi- 
 sphere was golden, towards the east tinted with 
 rose colour. From this little height we looked 
 on the plantations of the park in their autumnal 
 colouring, the town, with its steep-roofed church 
 and its castle tower, coloured a gay green, the line 
 of chestnuts along the Belvedere Chauss^e, and 
 Belvedere itself peeping from its nest of trees. 
 
 Another very favourite walk of mine was the 
 Wehicht, a beautiful wood through which ran ex- 
 cellent carriage-roads and grassy footpaths. How 
 richly have I enjoyed skirting this wood, a.nd see- 
 ing, on the other side, the sky arching grandly 
 down over the open fields, the evening red flushing 
 the west over the town, and the bright stars come 
 out as if to relieve the sun in his watch over 
 mortals ! And then the winding road through the 
 Webicht on the side towards Tiefurt, with its tall 
 overarching trees now bending their mossy trunks 
 forward, now standing with stately erectness like 
 lofty pillars ; and the charming grassy paths 
 through the heart of the wood among its silvery- 
 barked birches ! The Webicht lies towards Tiefurt,
 
 16IH. 
 
 260 Ziszt on Spontini [weimak, 
 
 Weimar, aiid 0116 side of it is bordered by the road thither. 
 
 Aug!-oct?°' I remember, as we were returning from Tiefurt 
 one evening, a beautiful effect of the setting sun- 
 light pouring itself under the trees and making 
 the road before us almost crimson. 
 
 One of our pleasantest accpiaintances at Weimar 
 was the French Ambassador, the Marquis de Yai- 
 riere, a very favourable specimen of a frenchman, 
 but intensely French. His genial soul and perfect 
 good-humour gave one the same sort of bicn etre 
 as a well-stutfed arm-chair and a warm hearth-rug. 
 In the course of conversation, speaking of Yvan's 
 accounts of Jiis travels (the Marquis was tirst Sec- 
 retary to the Cliinese Embassy which Yvan accom- 
 panied), he said, " C'dtait faux d'un bout h. 1 'autre ; 
 mais c'dtait spirituel, paradoxal, amusant, — entin 
 toitt ce qu'il fallait puur un journal. " Another 
 day he observed that the famous words of Napoleon 
 to his Egyptian army, " Forty centuries look down 
 on you from the summits of these pyramids, " were 
 characteristic of the French national feeling, as 
 those of Nelson, " England expects the man to 
 make his duty," were of the English. This is a 
 fair specimen of the correctness with which one 
 generally hears English quoted ; and we often re- 
 minded ourselves that it was a mirror in which we 
 might see our own German. 
 
 Liszt's conversation is charming. I never met 
 with a person whose manner of telling a story was 
 so piquant. The last evening but one that he 
 called on us, wishing to express his pleasure in 
 G. 's article about him, he very ingeniously con- 
 veyed that expression in a story about Spontini 
 and Berlioz. Spontini visited Paris while Liszt 
 was living there, and haunted the opera, — a stiff,
 
 H 
 N 
 CO 
 
 H 
 
 o
 
 1854.] Breakfast at Liszt's. 261 
 
 self-important personage, with high shirt-collars, webnar, 
 the least attractive individual imaginable : Liszt Aug^-oct?"^ 
 turned up his own collars, and swelled out his ^^^ 
 person, so as to give us a vivid idea of the man. 
 Every one would have been glad to get out of 
 Spontini's way, — indeed elsewhere "on feignait 
 de le croire mort, " but at Paris, as he was a mem- 
 ber of the Institute, it was necessary to recognise 
 his existence. Liszt met him at Erard's more than 
 once. On one of these occasions Liszt observed 
 to him that Berlioz was a great a-dmirer of his 
 (Spontini's), whereupon Spontini burst into a ter- 
 rible invective against Berlioz as a man who, with 
 the like of him, was ruining art, &c. Shortly after 
 the " Vestale " was performed, and forthwith ap- 
 peared an enthusiastic article by Berlioz on Spon- 
 tini's music. The next time Liszt met him of the 
 high collars, he said, " You see I was not wrong 
 in what I said about Berlioz's admiration of you." 
 Spontini swelled in his collars, and replied, " Mon- 
 sieur, Berlioz a du talent comme critique ! " 
 
 Liszt's replies were always felicitous and char- 
 acteristic. Talking of Mme. d'Agoult, he told 
 us that when her novel, "Nelida," appeared, in 
 which Liszt himself is pilloried as a delinquent, 
 he asked her, " Mais pourquoi avez-vous tellement 
 maltraitd ce pauvre Lehmann ? " The first time we 
 were asked to breakfast at his house, the Alten- 
 burg, we were shown into the garden, where, in a 
 saloon formed by overarching trees, the dejeuner 
 was set out. We found Hoffmann von Fallersleben, 
 the lyric poet. Dr. Schade, — a Gelehrter, and Cor- 
 nelius. Presently came a Herr — or Doctor — 
 Eaff, a musician, who has recently published a 
 volume called " Wagnerfrage. " Soon after we were
 
 262 Liszt's Playing. [weimar, 
 
 Weimar, joined by Liszt and the Princess Marie, an ele- 
 Aug!-oct"' gant, gentle-looking girl of seventeen, and last by 
 ^^^' the Princess V/ittgenstein, with her nephew, 
 
 Prince Eugene, and a young French artist, a pupil 
 of Scheffer. The Princess was tastefully dressed 
 in a morning robe of some semi-transparent white 
 material, lined with orange colour, which formed 
 the bordering and ornamented the sleeves, a black 
 lace jacket, and a piquant cap set on the summit 
 of her comb, and trimmed with violet colour. 
 When the cigars came, Hoffmann was requested 
 to read some of his poetry, and he gave us a bac- 
 chanalian poem with great spirit. I sat next to 
 Liszt, and my great delight was to watch him and 
 observe the sweetness of his expression. Genius, 
 benevolence, and tenderness beam from his whole 
 countenance, and his manners are in perfect har- 
 mony with it. Then came the thing I had longed 
 for, — his playing. I sat near him, so that I could 
 see both his hands and face. For the first time in 
 my life I beheld real inspiration, — for the first time 
 I heard the true tones of the piano. He played 
 one of his own compositions, — one of a series of 
 religious fantasies. There was nothing strange or 
 excessive about his manner. His manipulation 
 of the instrument was quiet and easy, and his face 
 was simply grand, — the lips compressed and the 
 head thrown a little backward. When the music 
 expressed quiet rapture or devotion, a sweet smile 
 flitted over his features ; when it was triumphant, 
 the nostrils dilated. There was nothing petty or 
 egoistic to mar the picture. Why did not Scheffer 
 paint him thus, instead of representing him as one 
 of the three Mngi ? But it just occurs to me that 
 Scheffer's idea was a sublime one. There arc tlic
 
 1854.] Lisfit's Trophies. 263 
 
 two aged men who have spent their lives in trying weimar, 
 to unravel the destinies of the world, and who are Aug"-o"t°"' 
 looking for the Deliverer, — for the light from on ^^^' 
 high. Their young fellow-seeker, having the fresh 
 inspiration of early life, is the first to discern the 
 herald star, and his ecstasy reveals it to his com- 
 panions. In this young Magus, Scheffer has given 
 a portrait of Liszt ; but even here, where he might 
 be expected to idealise unrestrainedly, he falls 
 short of the original. It is curious that Liszt's 
 face is the type that one sees in all Scheffer's 
 pictures, — at least, in all I have seen. 
 
 In a little room which terminates the suite at 
 the Altenburg, there is a portrait of Liszt, also by 
 Scheffer, — the same of which the engraving is 
 familiar to every one. This little room is filled 
 with memorials of Liszt's triumphs and the wor- 
 ship his divine talent has won. It was arranged 
 for him by the Princess, in conjunction with the 
 Arnims, in honour of his birthday. There is a 
 medallion of him by Schwanthaler, a bust by an 
 Italian artist, also a medallion by Eietschl, — very 
 fine, — and cabinets full of jewels and precious 
 things, — the gifts of the great. In the music 
 salon stand Beethoven's and Mozart's pianos. 
 Beethoven's was a present from Broadwood, and 
 has a Latin inscription intimating that it was 
 presented as a tribute to his illustrious genius. 
 One evening Liszt came to dine with us at the 
 Erb Prinz, and introduced M. Ptubinstein, a young 
 Russian, who is about to have an opera of his 
 performed in Weimar. Our expenses at Weimar, 
 including wine and washing, were £2 6-s. per 
 week. Dear Weimar ! We were sorry to say good- 
 bye to it, with its pleasant group of friends. On
 
 264 
 
 Impressions of Berlin. 
 
 [berlin, 
 
 Berlin, Rec- 
 ollectious, 
 Nov. 1S54, 
 to March, 
 1»55. 
 
 the 4th of November, after a stay of just three 
 months, we turned our backs on it " to seek fresh 
 streets and faces new " at Berlin. 
 
 There are certain persons without any physiog- 
 nomy, the catalogue of whose features, as item a 
 Eoman nose, item a pair of black eyes, &c. , gives 
 you the entire contents of their faces. There is 
 no difference of opinion about the looks of such 
 people. All the world is agreed either that they 
 are pretty or ugly. So it is with Berlin. Every 
 one tells you it is an uninteresting modern city, 
 with broad, monotonous streets ; and when you see 
 it, you cannot for the life of you get up an emo- 
 tion of surprise, or make a remark about the place 
 which you have not heard before. 
 
 The day after our arrival was Sunday, 6th 
 November : the sun shone brightly, and we went 
 to walk in the Linden, elbowing our way among 
 \h.e promeneurs enclimanches, who looked remarkably 
 smart and handsome after the Thuringians. We 
 had not gone far when we met a nice-looking old 
 gentleman, with an order round his neck, and a 
 gold-headed cane in his hand, who exclaimed, on 
 seeing G. , " 1st 's moglich ? " and then bade him 
 heartily welcome. I saw at once it was the Varn- 
 hagen of whom I had heard so often. His niece, ar- 
 rayed in smiles and a pink bonnet, was with him. 
 
 For the first six weeks, when the weather per- 
 mitted, we took long walks in the Thiergarten, 
 where the straight and uniform avenues of insig- 
 nificant trees contrasted very disadvantageously 
 witli the charming variety of our beloved park at 
 Weimar. Still we now and then noticed a beau- 
 tiful wintry effect, especially in the part most re- 
 mote from the town, where the trees are finer and
 
 1854.] Varnhagen. 265 
 
 the arrangements more varied. One walk, which Berlin, Rec. 
 skirted the Thiergarteu on the right-hand side noI^ism^ 
 coming from the town, we were particularly fond isss."*^ ' 
 of, because it gave us on one side an open view, 
 with water and a boat or two, which, touched by 
 the magic of sunshine, was pleasant to see. At 
 Berlin it was " a day of small things " with regard 
 to the beautiful, and we made much of little. 
 
 Our little circle of acquaintances was very agree- 
 able and varied. Varnhagen was a real treasure 
 to G. , for his library supplied all the deficiencies 
 of the public one, where to ask for books was 
 generally like " sinking buckets into empty wells. " 
 He is a man of real culture, kindliness, and polish 
 (Germanly speaking) ; and he has besides that 
 thorough liberalism, social, religious, and politi- 
 cal, which sets the mind at ease in conversation, 
 and delivers it from the fear of running against 
 some prejudice, or coming suddenly on the sunk 
 fence of some miserable limitation. The first 
 morning he called on us he talked of his terrible 
 disappointment in Carlyle, a subject to which he 
 often returned. He evidently felt an antipathy 
 to the " Teufelsdrockh, " which indeed it was not 
 difficult to understand from the mere maniere d^ etre 
 of the two men. They had corresponded for years 
 before they saw each other ; and Varnhagen was, 
 and is, a great admirer of Carlyle 's best work, but 
 he was thoroughly repelled by his rough paradox- 
 ical talk, and, more justifiably, by the despotic 
 doctrines which it has been his humour to teach 
 of late. We were amused to hear that Carlyle 
 said he should think no one could die at Berlin, 
 " for in beds wWiout curtains what Christian could 
 give up the ghost ? "
 
 266 New Acquaintances. [bkrlin, 
 
 BerUn, Rec At Vamhagen's we met for the first time Pro- 
 Not!'is54', fessor Stahr, who was there witli Fanny Lewald, 
 toMarch,' Pi-jjulein Solmar, Frau Muisch, Dr. Eing, Dr. 
 Vehse, Grafin von Kalkreuth, and Director Wil- 
 helm Scliadow, author of " Der Moderne Vasari. " 
 We talked of Goethe. Varnhagen brought out 
 autographs and portraits, and read us an epigram 
 of his own on the want of liberality which 
 Goethe's family show about opening his house to 
 the public. He showed us a portrait of Kleist, 
 who shot himself, in company w4th Frau Vogel, 
 near an inn on the way to Potsdam. There was 
 no love affair between them : they were both 
 thoroughly unhappy, — he poor and hopeless for 
 the future, and she suffering from an incurable 
 disease. In the evening they both wrote, on a 
 single sheet of paper, letters to their friends, com- 
 municating their intention (this sheet Varnhagen 
 possesses). Early in the morning they rose, took 
 a cup of coffee, went to the brink of a piece of 
 water in the neighbourhood of the inn, and there 
 shot themselves. 
 
 Du Bois Reymond spoke very decidedly of the 
 German civilisation as inferior to the English. 
 
 Varnhagen, when well, is a regular visitor at 
 Friiulein Sol mar's, who for many years has kept 
 an open uilon for her friends every evening but 
 one in the week. Here the three-cornered chair 
 next the sofa was reserved for him, except when 
 General Pfuel was there. This General Pfuel is 
 a fine specimen of an old soldier, who is at the 
 same time a man of instruction and of strong 
 social sympathies. He has been in the service 
 of Prussia, has been within a hair's-breadth of 
 being frozen to death, " and so following. " He
 
 1854.] Fraulein Solmar's Salon. 267 
 
 spoke French admirably, and always had some- Berlin, Rec 
 thing interesting and characteristic to tell or say. Nov. is54l 
 His appreciatory groans always in the right place Ig^.'''''^' 
 when G. was reading " Shylock," did us both good 
 under the chills of a German audience. Fraulein 
 Solmar is a remarkably accomplished woman, — 
 probably between fifty and sixty, but of that agree- 
 able Weseii which, is so free from anything startling 
 in person or manner, and so at home in everything 
 one can talk of, that you think of her simply as 
 a delightful presence, and not as a woman of any 
 particular age. She converses perfectly in French, 
 w^ell in English, and well also, as we were told, in 
 Italian. There is not the slightest warmth of 
 manner or expression in her, but always the same 
 even cheerfulness and intelligence, — in fact, she 
 is the true type of the mistress of the salon. Dur- 
 ing the first half of our stay in Berlin, we went 
 about once a week to her house ; but bad health 
 and bad weather kept us away during the last six 
 weeks, except for one or two evenings. Baron 
 Sternberg, the novelist, used frequently to glide 
 in when we were there, and cast strange cold 
 glances around, talking quietly to Fraulein As- 
 sing or some other lady who sat in a distant 
 parallel of latitude. 
 
 One evening a Frenchman there amused us by 
 saying that he found in Meyerbeer's " Huguenots " 
 the whole spirit of the epoch of Charles IX. 
 " Lisez les Chroniques " — " de Froissart ? " sug- 
 gested Mile. Solmar. " Qui, quelque chose comma 
 ca ; ou bien les Chroniques de Brantome ou de 
 Merimee; et vous trouverez que Meyerbeer a par- 
 faitement exprirad tout cela ; du moins c'est ce 
 que je trouve, moi. " I said, " Mais peut-eti«,
 
 268 Professor Gruppe. [beklin, 
 
 Berlin, Rec Moiisieur, c'est votre gdnie a vous qui a fait entrer 
 
 Nov. 1S54.' les id^es dans la musique. " He answered with 
 
 1855.'"^'' ' complacent deprecation. G. looked immovably 
 
 serious, but was inwardly tickled by the audacity 
 
 of my compliment, and the evident acceptance 
 
 of it. 
 
 A still more interesting acquaintance was Pro- 
 fessor Gruppe, who has written great books on the 
 Greek drama and on Philosophy ; has been a polit- 
 ical writer; is a lyric and epic poet; has invented 
 a beautiful kind of marbled paper for binding 
 books ; is an enthusiastic huntsman, and withal, 
 the most simple kind-hearted creature in the world. 
 His little wife, who is about thirty years younger 
 than himself, seems to adore him, and it is charm- 
 ing to see the group they and their two little chil- 
 dren make in their dwelling up endless flights of 
 stairs in the Leipziger Platz. Very pleasant even- 
 ings we had there, chatting or playing whist, or 
 listening to readings of Gruppe 's poems. We used 
 to find him in a grey cloth Schlafroch, which I 
 fancy was once a great-coat, and a brown velvet 
 cap surmounting his thin grey hairs. I never saw 
 a combination at all like that which makes up 
 Gruppe 's character. Talent, fertility, and versa- 
 tility, that seem to indicate a fervid temperament, 
 and yet no scintillation of all this in his talk and 
 manner; on the contrary, he seems slow at appre- 
 hending other people's ideas, and is of an almost 
 childish naivete in the value he attaches to poor 
 jokes and other trivialities. Ajjropos of jokes, we 
 noticed that during the whole seven months of our 
 stay in Germany we never heard one witticism, 
 or even one felicitous idea or expression, from a 
 Gerraai? '
 
 1854.] Waagen on Goethe. 269 
 
 Gruppe has a delightful library, with rare books, BerUn, Reo. 
 and books too good to be rare ; and we often applied Nov! is54^ 
 to him for some of them. He lent me " Lessing, " Isss."'' ' 
 and that is an additional circumstance to remem- 
 ber with pleasure in connection with the Laocoon. 
 He one evening gave us an interesting account of 
 his work on the cosmic system of the Greeks, and 
 read us a translation by himself of one of the 
 Homeric hymns, — Aphrodite, — which is very 
 beautiful, a sort of Gegcnstuck to " Der Gott und 
 die Bajadere ; " and generally we were glad when 
 he took up the book. He read us a specimen of 
 his epic poem, " Firdusi, " which pleased us. The 
 fable on which this poem is founded is fine. The 
 Sultan had engaged Firdusi to write a great poem 
 on his exploits, and had promised to pay for this 
 100,000 pieces (gold being understood). Firdusi 
 had delighted in the thought of this sum, which 
 he intended to devote to the benefit of his native 
 city. When the poem was delivered, and the sack 
 of money given to Firdusi, he found that the pieces 
 were silver ! He burst into a song of scorn against 
 the Sultan, and paid the miserable sum to his bath 
 man. Gruppe thinks Shakspeare more extensively 
 sold in Germany than any other book, except the 
 Bible and Schiller! One night we attempted 
 " Brag " or " Pocher, " but Gruppe presently be- 
 came alarmed at G. 's play, and said, " Das wiirde 
 an zwolf Groschen reichen ! " He drew some Jews' 
 faces with a pen admirably. 
 
 We were invited to meet Waagen, whom we 
 found a very intelligent and amusing man. He 
 told us a story about Goethe, who said of some 
 one, " I thank thee. Almighty God, that Thou 
 hast produced no second edition of this man ! "
 
 270 
 
 Edward Magnus on Carlyle. [berlin, 
 
 oUections, 
 Nov. 1854, 
 to March, 
 1865. 
 
 Berim, Rec and an amusing judgment passed on Goethe him- 
 self, that he was " Kein dummer Mann ! " Also 
 a story of a lady who went to see him as an intel- 
 lectual adorer and began to spout to him as his 
 masterpiece, " Fest gemauert in der Erden, " ^ &c. 
 
 Another pleasant friend was Edward Magnus, 
 the portrait-painter, an acute, intelligent, kind- 
 hearted man, with real talent in his art. He was 
 the only German we met with who seemed conscious 
 of his countrymen's deficiencies. He showed in 
 every possible way a hearty desire to do us service, 
 — sent us books, came to chat with us, showed 
 us his portraits, and when we were going away, 
 brought us lithographs of some paintings of his, 
 that we might carry away a remembrance of him. 
 He has travelled very extensively, and had much 
 intercourse with distinguished people, and these 
 means of culture have had some of their best effects 
 on his fine temperament and direct truthful mind. 
 He told us a rich story about Carlyle. At a din- 
 ner-party, given by Magnus in his honour, Wiese 
 and Cornelius were deploring Goethe's want of 
 evangelical sentiment. Carlyle was visibly un- 
 easy, fumbling with his dinner-napkin. At last 
 he broke out thus : " Meine Herren, kennen Sie 
 die Anekdote von dem Manne der die Sonne las- 
 terte, weil sie ihn seine Cigarre nicht anstecken 
 liess ? " 2 
 
 In the little room where we used to be ushered to 
 wait for him, there was a portrait of Thorwaldsen 
 and one of Mendelssohn, both of whom he knew 
 well. I was surprised to find in his atelier the 
 
 1 First line of Schiller's " Soni^ of the Bell." 
 3 " Gentlemen, do you know the story of the man who railed at 
 the son because it would not light his cigar ? "
 
 1854.] Professor Stahr and his Wife. 271 
 
 original of the portrait of Jenny Lind, with which Berlin, Re* 
 I was SO familiar. He was going to send it, to- Nov. 1854, 
 gether with Sontag's portrait, to the exhibition at i^*"*^ 
 Paris. His brother, the chemist, was also a bright 
 good-natured-looking man. We were invited to 
 a large evening party at his house, and found very 
 elegant rooms, with a remarkable assemblage of 
 celebrated men, — Johannes Miiller, Du Bois Eey- 
 mond, Rose, Ehrenberg, &c., &c. Some of the 
 women were very pretty and well dressed. The 
 supper, brought round on trays, was well appointed ; 
 and altogether the party was well managed. 
 
 We spent one evening with Professor Stahr and 
 his wife, — Fanny Lewald, — after their marriage. 
 Stahr has a copy of the charming miniature of 
 Schiller, taken when he was about thirty, — a 
 miniature in the possession of a certain Madame 
 von Kalb. There are the long Gdnsehals,^ the 
 aquiline nose, the blue eyes and auburn hair. It 
 is a most real and striking portrait. I saw also 
 a portrait and bust of Madame d'Agoult here, both 
 rather handsome. The first evening Stahr told us 
 some of the grievances which the Prussians have 
 to bear from their Government, and amongst the 
 rest the vexatious necessity for a " concession " or 
 licence, before any, the simplest vocation, can be 
 entered on. He observed, with justice, that the 
 English are apt to suppose the German Eevolution 
 of '48 was mere restlessness and aping of other 
 nations, when in fact there were real oppressions 
 which the Germans had to bear, and which they 
 had borne with a patience that the English would 
 not imitate for a month. By far the most distin- 
 guished-looking man we saw at Berlin, and indeed 
 
 1 Goose-neck.
 
 272 Baucli the Sculjptor, [berlin, 
 
 Berlin, Rec- next to Liszt ill Germany, was Rauch the sculptor. 
 Cv^'S SchOll had given G. a letter for him, and soon 
 to^arch, after it had been left at his house he called on us 
 in the evening, and at once won our hearts by his 
 beautiful person and the benignant and intelligent 
 charm of his conversation. He is indeed the finest 
 old man I ever saw, — more than seventy-six, I 
 believe, but perfectly upright, even stately in his 
 carriage. His features are harmonious, his com- 
 plexion has a delicate freshness, his silky white 
 hair waves gracefully round his high forehead, and 
 his brown eyes beam with benevolence and intelli- 
 gence. He is above the common height, and his 
 stature and beauty together ennoble the grey work- 
 ing surtout and cap which he wears in his atelier 
 into a picturesque and distinguished costume. 
 The evening he was with us he talked delightfully 
 of Goethe, dwelling especially on his lovable 
 nature. He described very graphically Goethe's 
 way of introducing subjects, showing plates, &c. , 
 bringing in the cast of Schiller's skull, and talking 
 of it and other little particulars of interest. We 
 went one morning to his atelier, and found him 
 superintending his pupil's work at a large group 
 representing Moses with his hands held up by 
 Aaron and Hur. It was extremely interesting to 
 me to see Ranch's original little clay model of 
 this group, for I had never seen statuary in that 
 first stage before. The intense expression of en- 
 treaty in the face of the Moses was remarkable. 
 But the spirit of this group is so alien to my 
 sympathies that I could feel little pleasure in the 
 idea of its production. On the other hand, my 
 heart leaped at the sight of old Kant's quaint 
 figure, of which Ranch is commissioned to produce
 
 1854.] Dessoir the Actur. 273 
 
 a colossal statue for Konigsberg. In another atelier, Berlin, Reo 
 where the work is in a different stage, we saw a ^ov. Tm, 
 splendid marble monument, nearly completed, of 135^,'^'''^''' 
 the late King of Hanover. Pitiable that genius 
 and spotless white marble should be thrown away 
 on such human trash ! Our second visit to Ranch's 
 atelier was paid shortly before we left Berlin, The 
 group of Moses, Aaron, and Hur was clothed up, 
 and the dark-eyed olive-complexioned pupil was at 
 work on a pretty little figure of Hope, — a child 
 stepping forward with upturned face, a bunch of 
 flowers in her hand. In the other atelier we saw 
 a bust of Schleiermacher which, with the eques- 
 trian statue of Fritz and its pedestal, Eauch w^as 
 going to send to the Paris Exhibition. Schleier- 
 macher's face is very delicately cut, and indicates 
 a highly susceptible temperament. The colossal 
 head of Pritz, seen on a level with one's eye, was 
 perfectly startling from its living expression. One 
 can't help fancying that the head is thinking and 
 that the eyes are seeing. 
 
 Dessoir the actor was another pleasant variety 
 in our circle of acquaintance. He created in us a 
 real respect and regard for him, not only by his 
 sincere devotion to his art, but by the superiority 
 of feeling which shone through all the little details 
 of his conduct and conversation. Of lowly birth 
 and entirely self-taught, he is by nature a gentle- 
 man. Without a single physical gift as an actor, 
 he succeeds, by force of enthusiasm and conscien- 
 tious study, in arriving at a representation which 
 commands one's attention and feelings. I was 
 very much pleased by the simplicity with which 
 he one day said, " Shakspeare ist mein Gott ; ich 
 habe keinen anderen Gott ; " and indeed one saw 
 
 VOL. I. — 18
 
 274 " Nathan der Weise." [beelin, 
 
 Berlin, Rec- that his ait was a religion to him. He said he 
 Nov! Uli, found himself inevitably led into sing-song decla- 
 1856."^ ' mation by Schiller, but with Shakspeare it was 
 impossible to be declamatory. It was very agree- 
 able to have him as a companion now and then in 
 our walks, and to have him read or discuss Shak- 
 epeare for an hour or two in the evening. He told 
 us an amusing story about his early days. When 
 he was a youth of sixteen or seventeen, acting at 
 Spandau, he walked to Berlin (about nine miles) 
 and back in the evening, accompanied by a watch- 
 maker named Naundorff, an enthusiast for the 
 theatre. On their way Dessoir declaimed at the 
 top of his voice, and was encouraged by the ap- 
 plause of his companion to more and more exertion 
 of lungs and limbs, so that people stared at them, 
 and followed them as if they thought them two 
 madmen. This watchmaker was Louis XVII. ! 
 Dessoir also imitated admirably Aldridge's mode 
 of advancing to kill Duncan, — like a wild Indian 
 lurking for a not much wilder beast. He paid us 
 the very pretty attention of getting up a dinner for 
 us at Dietz's, and inviting Riitscher and Forster to 
 meet us ; and he supplied us with tickets for the 
 theatre, which, however, was a pleasure we used 
 sparingly. The first time we went was to see 
 " Nathan der Weise," — a real enjoyment, for the 
 elegant theatre was new to us, and the scenery 
 was excellent, — better than I saw there on any 
 subsequent occasion. During performed Nathan, 
 and we thus saw him for the first time to great 
 V advantage, — for though he drags down this part, 
 
 as he does all others, the character of Nathan sets 
 limits which he cannot overstep; and though we 
 lose most of its elevation in Dtiring's actinjj, we
 
 1855.] Gluck's " Orpheus." 275 
 
 get, en revanche, an admirable ease and natural- Beriin,.Reo 
 ness. His tine clear voice and peiiect enunciation Nov. ibs-i, 
 told excellently in the famous monologue, and in iso^;'^^'^ ' 
 the whole scene with Saladin. Our hearts swelled 
 and the tears came into our eyes as we listened to 
 the noble words of dear Lessing, whose great spirit 
 lives immortally in this crowning work of his. 
 
 Our great anxiety was to see and hear Johanna 
 Wagner, so we took tickets for the " Orpheus," 
 which Mile. Solmar told us she thought her best 
 part. We were thoroughly delighted both with 
 her and her music. The caricatures of the Furies, 
 the ballet-girls, and the butcher-like Greek shades 
 in Elysium, the ugly screaming Eurydice, and the 
 droll appearance of Timzek as Amor, in which she 
 looked like a shop-girl who has donned a masque- 
 rade dress impromptu, without changing her head- 
 dress, — all these absurdities were rather an 
 amusement than a drawback to our pleasure ; for 
 the Orpheus was perfect in himself, and looked 
 like a noble horse among mules and donkeys. 
 
 Our days are so accurately parcelled out that my Letter to 
 
 . . . ■ Miss Sfirf 
 
 time for letter-writinsj is rather restricted, and for Henneii, 
 
 . 9th Jan. 
 
 every letter I write I have to leave out something isss.' 
 which we have learned to think necessary. We 
 have been to hear " Fidelio" this evening, — not 
 well executed, except so far as the orchestra was 
 concerned ; but the divine music positively 
 triumphs over the defects of execution. One is 
 entirely wrapt in the idea of the composer. Last 
 week we had "Orpheus and Eurydice," and I 
 heard, for the first time, at once an opera of 
 Gluck's and Johanna Wagner. It is one of the 
 glories of Berlin to give Gluck's operas, and it is 
 also something of a glory to have " die Wagner. "
 
 376 A^joendix. 
 
 there could be no true morality without evangelical 
 belief. " Oh, it is so, is it ? " she said, with the 
 kindest smile, and nothing further passed. From 
 time to time, however, her reverence and affection 
 for the character of Christ and the Apostle Paul, 
 and her sympathy with genuine religious feeling, 
 were very clear to me. Expressing one day her 
 horror of a crowd, she said, " I never would press 
 through one, unless it were to see a second Jesus. " 
 The words startled me, — the conception of Jesus 
 Christ in my mind being so little associated with 
 a human form ; but they impressed me with a cer- 
 tain reality of feeling which I contrasted, as I did 
 Miss Evans's abiding interest in great principles, 
 with the somewhat factitious and occasional as 
 well as fitful affection and concern manifest in 
 many whom I looked up to as " converted " people. 
 
 Once only do I remember such contrast being 
 made by herself. She attended the service at the 
 opening of a new church at Foleshill with her 
 father, and remarked to me the next day, that 
 looking at the gaily dressed people, she could not 
 help thinking how much easier life would be to 
 her, and how much better she should stand in the 
 estimation of her neighbours, if only she could take 
 things as they did, be satisfied with outside pleas- 
 ures, and conform to the popular beliefs without 
 any reflection or examination. Once, too, after 
 being in the company of educated persons " pro- 
 fessing and calling themselves Christians," she 
 commented to me on the tone of conversation, 
 often frivolous, sometimes ill-natured, that seemed 
 yet to excite in no one any sense of impropriety. 
 
 It must have been in those early days that she 
 spoke to me of a visit from one of her uncles in
 
 Appendix. 2)'ll 
 
 Derbyshire, a Wesleyan, and how much she had 
 enjoyed talking with him, finding she could enter 
 into his feelings so much better than she had done 
 in past times, when her views seemed more in 
 accordance with his own, but were really less so. 
 
 Amongst other books, I remember the " Life of 
 Dr. Arnold " interested her deeply. Speaking of 
 it to me one morning, she referred to a conversation 
 she had had with a friend the evening before, and 
 said they had agreed that it was a great good for 
 such men to remain within the pale of orthodoxy, 
 that so they might draw from the old doctrines the 
 best that was to be got from them. 
 
 Of criticisms on German books read with Miss 
 Evans, I recall one or two. In the " Eobbers, " she 
 criticised the attempt to enhance the horror of the 
 situation of the abandoned father, by details of 
 physical wretchedness, as a mistake in Art. 
 " Wallenstein " she ranked higher from an intel- 
 lectual point of view than any other work of 
 Schiller's. The talk of the soldiers in the " Lager " 
 she pointed out to me as " just what it would be." 
 On my faint response, " I suppose it is ! " she re- 
 turned, " No, you do not suppose, — we know these 
 things ; " and then gave me a specimen of what 
 might be a navvy's talk, — " The sort of thing such 
 people say is, ' I'll break off your arm, and bloody 
 your face with the stump. ' " 
 
 Mrs. Bray tells the following incident, as show- 
 ing her quick perception of excellence from a new 
 and unknown source. "We were sittins, " Mrs. 
 Bray says, " one summer afternoon on the lawn at 
 Eosehill, July, 1850, when Marian came running 
 to us from the house with the ' Leader ' newspaper 
 in her hand. ' Here is a new poet come into the
 
 278 
 
 Vivier Anecdotes. 
 
 [berlin, 
 
 BerUn, Rec- draiuatic music ; and his way of falling from 
 not?*is54', melody into awe-struck speech in the final words 
 toMarch, « ^^^^ ^^^^ „ ^bidcs with onc. I nevcr felt so 
 
 thoroughly the beauty of that divine ballad before. 
 The king was present in all his toothlessness and 
 blinkingness ; and the new princess from Anhalt 
 Dessau, young and delicate-looking, was there too. 
 Arabella Goddard played the " Harmonious Black- 
 smith" charmingly, and then Wagner sang badly 
 two ineffective German songs, and Haldvy's duet 
 from the " Eeine de Chypre" with Eoger. 
 
 Vivier is amusing. He says Germans take off 
 their hats on all possible pretexts, not for the sake 
 of politeness, but 2^our etre etnharrassants. They 
 have wide streets, simply to embarrass you, by 
 making it impossible to descry a shop or a friend. 
 A German always has three gloves, — " On ne salt 
 pas pourquoi. " There is a dog-tax in order to 
 maintain a narrow trottoir in Berlin, and every one 
 who keeps a dog feels authorised to keep the 
 trottoir and move aside for no one. If he has two 
 dogs, he drives out of the trottoir the man who has 
 only one : the very dogs begin to be aware of it. 
 If you kick one when he is off the trottoir, he will 
 bear it patiently, but on the trottoir he resents it 
 vehemently. He gave us quite a bit of Moliere in 
 a description of a mystification at a restaurant. 
 He says to the waiter, — " Vous voyez ce mon- 
 sieur-la, C'est le pauvre M. Colignon. " (II faut 
 qu'il soit quelqu'un qui prend trfes pen, — une tasse 
 de cafd ou comme ca, et qui ne d^pense pas trop. ) 
 " Jo suis son ami. II est fou. Je le garde. Com- 
 bien doit-il payor?" " Un franc.'" " VoihV " 
 Then Vivier goes out. Presently the so-called 
 M. Colignon asks how much he has to pay, and is
 
 1855.] Works of Art at Berlin. , 279 
 
 driven to exasperation by the reiterated assurance Berlin, Rec 
 of the waiter, — " C'est payd, M. Colignon. " nov^^ism, 
 
 The first work of art really worth looking at ll^^""^' 
 that one sees at Berlin are the " Kosse-bandiger" 
 in front of the palace. They are by a sculptor 
 named Clodt, who made horses his especial study ; 
 and certainly, to us, they eclipsed the famous 
 Colossi at Monte Cavallo, casts of which are in 
 the new museum. 
 
 The collection of pictures at the old museum 
 has three gems, which remain in the imagination, 
 — Titian's Daughter, Correggio's Jupiter and lo, 
 and his Head of Christ on the Handkerchief. I 
 was pleased also to recognise among the pictures 
 the one by Jan Steen, which Goethe describes in 
 the " Wahlverwandschaften" as the model of a 
 tahleau vivant, presented by Luciane and her 
 friends. It is the daughter being reproved by her 
 father, while the mother is emptying her wine- 
 glass. It is interesting to see the statue of 
 Napoleon, the Worker of so much humiliation to 
 Prussia, placed opposite that of Julius Csesar. 
 
 They were very happy months we spent at 
 Berlin, in spite of the bitter cold which came on 
 in January and lasted almost till we left. How 
 we used to rejoice in the idea of our warm room 
 and coffee as we battled our way from dinner 
 against the wind and snow ! Then came the 
 delightful loner evening;, in which we read Shak- 
 speare, Goethe, Heine, and Macaulay, with Ger- 
 man Pfefferkuchen and Semmels at the end to 
 complete the nodes cenccque deum. 
 
 We used often to turn out for a little walk in 
 the evening, when it was not too cold, to refresh 
 ourselves by a little pure air as a change from the
 
 280 
 
 Evenings in Berlin. 
 
 [BERLIN. 
 
 Berlin, Rec- 
 
 oUectioua, 
 Nov. 1S54, 
 to March, 
 1855. 
 
 stove-heated room. Our favourite walk was along 
 the Linden, in the broad road between the trees. 
 We used to pace to old Fritz's monument, which 
 loomed up dark and mysterious against the sky. 
 Once or twice we went along the gas-lighted walk 
 towards Kroll's. One evening in our last week, 
 we went on to the bridge leading to the Frie- 
 drichstadt, and there by moon- and gas-light saw 
 the only bit of picturesqueness Berlin afibrded us. 
 The outline of the Schloss towards the water is 
 very varied, and a light in one of the windows 
 near the top of a tower was a happy accident. 
 The row of houses on the other side of the water 
 was shrouded in indistinctness, and no ugly object 
 marred the scene. The next day, under the light 
 of the sun it was perfectly prosaic. 
 
 Our taUe cVhote at the Hotel de 1 'Europe was so 
 slow in its progress from one course to another, and 
 there was so little encouragement to talk to our 
 neighbours, that we used to take our books by way 
 of beguiling the time. Lessing's " Hamburgische 
 Briefe," which I am not likely to take up again, 
 will thus remain associated in my memory with 
 my place at the taUe dliotc. The company here, 
 as almost everywhere else in Berlin, was sprinkled 
 with officers. Indeed the swords of officers threaten 
 one's legs at every turn in the streets, and one 
 sighs to think how these unproductive consumers 
 of Wurst, with all their blue and scarlet broad- 
 cloth, are maintained out of the pockets of the 
 community. Many of the officers and privates are 
 startlingly tall ; indeed some of them would match, 
 I shouhl think, with the longest of Friedrich 
 Wiihelm's lanrje Kerle. 
 
 It was a bitterly cold sleety morning, — the
 
 1855.] Journey to Cologne. 281 
 
 11th of March, when we set out from Berlin, BerUn, Reo- 
 leaving behind us, alas! G. 's rug, which should Nov. 1854', 
 have kept his feet warm on the journey. Our 1855."*^ ' 
 travelling companions to Cologne were fat Madame 
 Roger, her little daughter, and her dog, and a 
 Queen's messenger, — a very agreeable man, who 
 afterwards persuaded another of the same vocation 
 to join us for the sake of warmth. This poor 
 man's teeth were chattering with cold, though he 
 fvas wrapped in fur ; and we, all fur-less as we 
 were, pitied him, and were thankful that at least 
 we were not feverish and ill, as he evidently was. 
 We saw the immortal old town of Wolfenbiittel at 
 a distance, as we rolled along : beyond this there 
 was nothing of interest in our first day's journey, 
 and the only incident was the condemnation of 
 poor Madame Roger's dog to the dog-box, apart 
 from its mistress with her warm cloaks. She 
 remonstrated in vain with a brutal German official, 
 and it was amusing to hear him say to her in 
 German, " Wenn sie Deutsch nicht verstehen 
 konnen. " " Eh bien, — prenez la. " " Ah ! qUel 
 satan de pays ! " was her final word, as she held 
 out the shivering little beast. We stayed at 
 Cologne, and next morning walked out to look at 
 the cathedral again. Melancholy as ever in its 
 impression upon me ! From Cologne to Brussels 
 we had some rather interesting companions, in 
 two French artists who were on their way from 
 Russia. Strange beings they looked to us at first 
 in their dirty linen, Russian caps, and other queer 
 equipments ; but in this, as in many other cases, 
 I found that a first impression was an extremely 
 mistaken one, for instead of being, as I imagined, 
 common uncultivated men, they were highly 
 intelligent.
 
 282 Work at Weimar and Berlin. [beklin, 
 
 BerUn, Rec- At Bnissels, Rs WG took oui supper, we had the 
 Nov 1854', pleasure of looking at Berlioz's fine head and face, 
 1855. ' he being employed in the same way on the other 
 side of the table. The next morning to Calais. 
 
 They were pleasant days, these at Weimar 
 and Berlin, and they were working days. Mr. 
 Lewes was engaged in completing his life of 
 Goethe, which had been begun some time 
 before, but which was now for the most part 
 rewritten. At Weimar George Eliot wrote 
 the article on Victor Cousin's "Madame de 
 Sabld " for the " Westminster Eeview. " It was 
 begun on 5th August and sent off on 8th 
 September. At Berlin she nearly finished the 
 translation of Spinoza's " Ethics, " — begun on 
 5th November, — and wrote an article on Vehse's 
 " Court of Austria, " which was begun on 23d 
 January and finished 4th March, 1855. Besides 
 this writing, I find the following among the 
 books that were engaging their attention ; and 
 in collecting the names from George Eliot's 
 Journal, I have transcribed any remarks she 
 makes on them : — 
 Sainte-Beuve, Goethe's " Wahlverwandschaften," 
 " Rameau's Neffe," " Egmont," " The Hoggarty Dia- 
 mond," Moore's " Life of Sheridan," — a first-rate 
 specimen of bad biographical writing ; " Gotz " and 
 the " Biirger General," Uhland's poems, " W^ilhelm 
 Meister, " Rosenkranz on the Faust Sage, Heine's 
 poems, Shakspeare's plays (" Merchant of Venice," 
 " Eomeo and Juliet, " " Julius Caesar, " — very much 
 struck with the masculine style of this play, and 
 its vigorous moderation, compared with " Eomeo 
 and Juliet, " — " Antony and Cleopatra, " " Henry 
 IV.," " Othello, "" As You Like It," "Lear," —
 
 1855.] Remarks on Books Bead. 283 
 
 sublimely powerful, — " Taming of the Shrew, " 
 " Coriolaiius, " " Twelfth Night, " " Measure for 
 Measure," "Midsummer Night's Dream," "Win- 
 ter's Tale," " Eichard HI," " Hamlet"); Lessing's 
 " Laocoon," — the most un-German of all the German 
 books that I have ever read. The style is strong, 
 clear, and lively ; the thoughts acute and pregnant. 
 It is well adapted to rouse an interest both in the 
 classics and in the study of art ; " Emilia Galotti " 
 seems to me a wretched mistake of Lessing's. The 
 Eoman myth of Virgiuius is grand, but the situa- 
 tion transported to modern times and 'divested of 
 its political bearing is simply shocking. Eead 
 " Briefe iiber Spinoza" (Jacobi's), "Nathan der 
 Weise, " Fanny Lewald's " Wandlungen, " " Minna 
 von Barnhelm, " " Italiiinische Eeise, " the " Eesi- 
 dence in Eome : " a beautiful description of Eome 
 and the Coliseum by moonlight, — a fire made in 
 the Coliseum sending its smoke, silvered by the 
 moonlight, through the arches of the mighty 
 walls. Amusing story of Goethe's landlady's cat 
 worshipping Jupiter by licking his beard, — a 
 miracle in her esteem, explained by Goethe as a 
 discovery the cat had made of the oil lodging in 
 the undulations of the beard. " Eesidence in 
 Naples," — pretty passage about a star seen through 
 a chink in the ceiling as he lay in bed. It is 
 remarkable that when Goethe gets to Sicily, he is 
 for the first time in Italy enthusiastic in his 
 descriptions of natural beauty. Eead Schorr's 
 " Geschichte Deutscher Cultur und Sitte, " — much 
 interested in his sketch of German poetry in the 
 middle ages : " Iphigenia.. " Looked into the 
 " Xenien, " and amused ourselves with their point- 
 lessness. " Hermann und Dorothea. " " Tasso, "
 
 284 Remarks on Books Bead. [berlin. 
 
 ". Wander j ahre, " — a mourir d'ennui, — Heine's 
 " Gestandnisse, " — immensely amused with the wit 
 of it in the first fifty pages, but afterwards it burns 
 low, and the want of principle and purpose make 
 it wearisome. Lessing's " Hamburgische Briefe. " 
 Eead Goethe's wonderful observations on Spinoza. 
 Particularly struck with the beautiful modesty of 
 the passage in which he says he cannot presume to 
 say that he thoroughly understands Spinoza. Eead 
 " Dichtung und Wahrheit, " Knight's " Studies of 
 Shakspeare." Talked of the " Wahl verwandschaf ten " 
 with Stahr, — 'he finding fault with the deiiouement, 
 which I defended. Eead Stahr's "Torso," — too 
 long-winded a style for reading aloud. Knight's 
 " History of Painting. " Compared several scenes 
 of " Hamlet" in Schlegel's translation with the 
 original. It is generally very close, and often 
 admirably well done: but Shakspeare 's strong 
 concrete language is almost always weakened. For 
 example, " Though this hand were thicker than 
 itself in brother's blood," is rendered, " Auch um 
 und um in Bruder's Blut getauchet. " The prose 
 speeches of Hamlet lose all their felicity in the 
 translation. Eead Stahr on the Eginetan Sculp- 
 tures, "Die Neue Melusine," "West-Ostliche Divan," 
 Gervinus on Shakspeare, — found it unsatisfactory, 
 — Stahr's " Ein Jahr in Italien, " — the description 
 of Florence excellent. Eead the wondrously beau- 
 tiful " Eomische Elegien " again, and some of the 
 Venetian Epigrams, Vehse's " Court of Austria, " — 
 called on Miss Assing to try and borrow the book 
 from Varnhagen. He does not possess it, so G. 
 called on Vehse, and asked him to lend it to me. 
 He was very much pleased to do so. Eead the 
 " Zueignung, " the " Gedichte, " and several of the
 
 j855.] Return to England. 285 
 
 ballads. Looked through Wraxall's "Memoirs." 
 Eead Macaulay's "History of England, '"' Wrote 
 article on Stahr. 
 
 This writing and reading, combined with 
 visiting, theatre-going, and opera-going, make 
 a pretty full life for these eight months, — a 
 striking contrast to the coming months of com- 
 plete social quietness in England. Both lives 
 had their attractions, the superficial aspects of 
 which may be summed up in a passage from 
 the Journal, dated 13th March, 1855, on arrival 
 at the Lord Warden Hotel at Dover : — ■ 
 English mutton and an English fire were likely to 
 be appreciated by creatures who had had eight 
 months of Germany, with its questionable meat 
 and its stove-heated rooms. The taste and quietude 
 of a first-rate English hotel were also in striking 
 contrast with the heavy finery, the noise, and the 
 indiscriminate smoking of German inns. But 
 after all, Germany is no bad place to live in ; and 
 the Germans, to counterbalance their want of taste 
 and politeness, are at least free from the bigotry 
 of exclusiveness of their more refined cousins. I 
 even long to be amongst them again, — to see 
 Dresden, and Munich, and Niirnberg, and the 
 Ehine country. May the day soon come!
 
 286 Summary. 
 
 SUMMARY. 
 
 JULY, 1854, TO MAKCH, 1855. 
 
 Leaves London with Mr. Lewes for Antwerp — Rubens's pic- 
 tures — Cologne — Dr. Brabant and Strauss — Weimar — Scholl 
 
 — The Dichter Zimmer — Sauppe — Tief urt — Ettersburg — 
 Arthur Helps — Gabel-Bach and Kickel-halin — Liszt — Wagner's 
 operas — " Der rreischiitz " — tSchiller's house — Goethe's house 
 
 — Gartenhaus — Ober Weimar — The Webieht — Marquis de 
 Ferriere — Liszt anecdotes — Cornelius — liaff — Princess Witt- 
 genstein — Liszt's playing — ISchett'er's picture — Expenses at 
 Weimar — Leave for Berlin — Meet Varnhageu — Thiergarten — 
 Acquaintances in Berlin — Fraulein Solmar — I'rofessor Gruppe — 
 Epic of Eirdusi — Waagen — Edward Magnus— Professor fctahr 
 and Fanny Lewald — Rauch the sculptor — Kauts statue — 
 Dessoir the actor — "Nathan der Weise " — Doring's acting — 
 Johanna Wagner — Letter to Miss Ilennell — " Fidelio " — Head- 
 ing Stalir's "Torso" — Likeness of Schiller — Yivier — Roger 
 and Arabella Goddard — The Rosse-bandiger — Pictures — Cold 
 in Berlin — View of Schloss from bridge — Leave Berlin for 
 England — Books read — Article written on Madame de Sable — 
 Translation of Spinoza's " Ethics " — Article on Vehse's " Court 
 of Austria " — Article on Stahr.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 March 14. — Took lodgings at 1 Sydney Place, ^^^^^^^ 
 Dover. is55. ' 
 
 March 15. — A lovely day. As I walked up the 
 Castle hill this afternoon, the town, with its back- 
 ground of softly rounded hills shrouded in sleepy 
 haze, its little lines of water looking golden in the 
 sun, made a charming picture. I have written 
 the preface to the " Third Book of Ethics, " read 
 Scherr, and Shakspeare's " Venus and Adonis." 
 
 March 16. — I read Shakspeare's "Passionate 
 Pilgrim" at breakfast, and found a sonnet in which 
 he expresses admiration of Spenser (Sonnet VI.) : — 
 
 G. writes 
 that this 
 sonnet is 
 Barnfield's. 
 
 [Note written 
 later.] 
 
 " Dowland to thee is dear, whose heavenly touch 
 Upon the lute doth ravish human sense; 
 "" Spenser to me, whose deep conceit is such 
 As, passing all conceit, needs no defence." 
 
 I must send word of this to G. , who has written 
 in his " Goethe" that Shakspeare has left no line in 
 praise of a contemporary. I could not resist the 
 temptation of walking out before I sat down to 
 work. Came in at half-past ten, and translated 
 Spinoza till nearly one. Walked out again till 
 two. After dinner read " Two Gentlemen of 
 Verona," and some of the Sonnets. That play 
 disgusted me more than ever in the final scene, 
 where Valentine, on Proteus 's mere begging par-
 
 288 Sappier for Experience Abroad. [dover, 
 
 Journal, don, wheii he has no longer any hope of gainincf 
 
 March, 1855. ■, ■ ■, « All ^i I • • n -i • 5 
 
 his ends, says : All that was mine m Silvia, I 
 give thee ! " Silvia standing by. Walked up the 
 Castle hill again, and came in at six. Eead 
 Scherr, and found an important hint that I have 
 made a mistake in a sentence of my article on 
 Austria about the death of Franz von Sickingen 
 Letter to I dai'csay you will be surprised to see that I 
 
 Heuneur Write froiu Dover. We left Berlin on the 11th. 
 isk "" ' I have taken lodgings here for a little while, until 
 Mr. Lewes has concluded some arrangements in 
 London; and with the aid of lovely weather, am 
 even enjoying my solitude, though I don't mind 
 how soon it ends. News of you all at Rosehill — 
 how health, and business, and all other things are 
 faring — would be very welcome to me, if you can 
 find time for a little note of homely details. I am 
 well and calmly happy, ■ — feeling much stronger 
 and clearer in mind for the last eight months of 
 new experience. We were sorry to leave our quiet 
 rooms and agreeable friends in Berlin, though the 
 place itself is certainly ugly, and am Ende must 
 become terribly wearisome for those who have not 
 a vocation there. We went again and again to the 
 new museum to look at the casts of the Parthenon 
 Sculptures, and registered a vow that we would go 
 to feast on the siglit of the originals the first day 
 we could spare in London. I had never cast more 
 than a fleeting look on them before, but now I can 
 in some degree understand the effect they produced 
 on their first discovery, 
 wnai, March 25. — A note from Mr. Chapman, in 
 
 which he asks me to undertake part of the 
 Contemporary Literature for the " Westminster 
 Eeview. "
 
 1855.] Books Read, 289 
 
 April 18. — Came to town, to lodgings in Journal, 
 Bayswater. ^^• 
 
 April 23. — Fixed on lodgings at East Sheen. 
 April 25. — Went to the British Museum. 
 April 28. — Finished article on Weimar, for 
 " Fraser. " 
 
 During this month George Eliot was finish- 
 ing the translating and revising of Spinoza's 
 Ethics, and was still reading Scherr's book, 
 Schrader's "German Mythology," — a "poor 
 book,"— "The Tempest," "Macbeth," " Nie- 
 belungenlied, " " Eomeo and Juliet," article on 
 Dryden in the " Westminster," " Eeineke Fuchs," 
 "Genesis of Science," Gibbon, "Henry V,," 
 " Henry VIII. , " first, second, and third parts 
 of " Henry VI. , " " Eichard II. " 
 May 2. — Came to East Sheen, and settled in our 
 lodgings. 
 
 May 28. — Sent Belles Lettres section to " West- 
 minster Eeview. " During May several articles 
 were written for the " Leader. " 
 
 June 13. — Began Part IV. of Spinoza's Ethics. 
 Began also to read Gumming for article in the 
 " Westminster. " We are reading in the evenings 
 now Sydney Smith's letters, Boswell, Whewell's 
 " History of Inductive Sciences, " " The Odyssey, " 
 and occasionally Heine's " Eeisebilder. " I began 
 the second book of the " Iliad, " in Greek, this 
 morning. 
 
 June 21. — Finished article on Brougham's 
 * Lives of Men of Letters. " 
 
 June 23. — Eead " Lucrezia Floriani. " We are 
 reading White's " History of Selborne " in the 
 evening, with Boswell and the " Odyssey. " 
 
 VOL. 1—19
 
 290 
 
 The " Life of Goethe." [east sheek. 
 
 Letter to 
 Hiss Sara 
 Hennell, 
 23d June, 
 1855. 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Hennell, 
 21st July, 
 1855. 
 
 I have good hope that you will be deeply inter- 
 ested in the " Life of Goethe. " It is a book full of 
 feeling, as well as of thought and information, and 
 I even think it will make you love Goethe as well 
 as admire him. Eckermann's is a wonderful book, 
 but only represents Goethe at eighty. We were 
 fortunate enough to be in time to see poor Ecker- 
 mann before his total death. His mind was 
 already half gone, but the fine brow and eyes 
 harmonised entirely with the interest we had pre- 
 viously felt in him. We saw him in a small 
 lodging, surrounded by singing birds, and tended 
 by his son, — an intelligent youth of sixteen, who 
 showed some talent in drawing. I have written 
 a castigation of Brougham for the "Leader," and 
 shall be glad if your sympathy goes along with it. 
 Varnhagen has written " Denkwiirdigkeiten, " and 
 all sorts of literature, and is, or rather was, the 
 husband of Rahel, the greatest of German women. 
 
 It was surely you who wrote the notice of the 
 " Westminster " in the " Herald " (Coventry), which 
 we received this morning. I am very much pleased 
 with your appreciation of Mr. Lewes 's article. 
 You hardly do justice to Fronde's article on 
 Spinoza. I don't at all agree with Eroude's own 
 views, but I think his account of Spinoza's doc- 
 trines admirable. Mr. Lewes is still sadly ailing, 
 — tormented with tooth- and face-ache. This is a 
 terrible trial to us poor scribblers, to whom health 
 is money, as well as all other things worth having. 
 I have just been reading that Milton suffered from 
 indigestion, — quite an affecting fact to me. I 
 send you a letter which I have had from Barbara 
 Smith. I tliiiik you will like to see such a 
 manifestation of her strong, noble nature.
 
 :85o.] Removal to llichmond. 291 
 
 On 1st August, 1855, Mr. Lewes went down 
 to Eamsgate for change, taking his three boys 
 with him for a week's holiday. Meantime 
 George Eliot was continuing her article-writing, 
 and in this week wrote an article for the 
 " Leader, " having written one for the same 
 journal three weeks before. On 22d August 
 she wrote another article for the " Leader, " and 
 on the 24th she finished the one on Gumming 
 for the " Westminster. " Mr. C. Lewes tells me 
 that he remembers it was after reading this 
 article that his father was prompted to say to 
 George Eliot, whilst walking one day with her 
 in Eichmond Park, that it convinced him of 
 the true genius in her writing. Mr. Lewes 
 was not only an accomplished and practised 
 literary critic, but he was also gifted with the 
 inborn insight accompanying a fine artistic 
 temperament, which gave unusual weight to 
 his judgment. Up to this time he had not 
 been quite sure of anything beyond great talent 
 in her productions. 
 
 The first three weeks in September were 
 again busily occupied in article- writing. She 
 contributed three papers to the " Leader, " as 
 well as the Belles Lettres section for the 
 October number of the " Westminster. " On the 
 19th September they left East Sheen, and after 
 spending a couple of weeks at Worthing for a 
 sea change, they took rooms at 8 Park Shot, 
 Eichmond, which remained their home for 
 more than three years. Here some of George 
 Eliot's most memorable literary work was 
 accomplished. Both she and Mr. Lewes were 
 now working very hard for what would bring
 
 292 
 
 Article on Cumming. [Richmond, 
 
 Letter to 
 
 immediate profit, as they had to support not 
 only themselves but his children and their 
 mother. They had only one sitting-room be- 
 tween them ; and I remember, in a walk on St. 
 George's Hill, near Weybridge, in 1871, she 
 told me that the scratching of another pen used 
 to affect her nerves to such an extent that it 
 nearly drove her wild. On the 9th October 
 she finished an article on Margaret Fuller and 
 Mary Wollstouecraft, and on the 12tli October 
 one on Carlyle for the " Leader," and began an 
 article on Heine for the January number of the 
 " Westminster. " In October there are the fol- 
 lowing letters to the Brays : — 
 Since you have found out the " Cumming, " I write 
 Monday^^' by to-day's post just to say that it is mine, but 
 Oct. (?) 1855. ^igQ |.Q i^gg |.j^j^^ yQ^^ ^y^]j ^^Q^ mention it as such 
 
 to any one likely to transmit the information to 
 London, as we are keeping the authorship a secret. 
 The article appears to have produced a strong 
 impression, and that impression would be a little 
 counteracted if the author were known to be a 
 woman. I have had a letter addressed " to the 
 author of Article No. 4," begging me to print it 
 separately " for the good of mankind in general " ! 
 It is so kind of you to rejoice in anything I do at 
 all well. I am dreadfully busy again, for I am 
 going to write an article for the " Westminster 
 Eeview" again, besides my other work. We enjoy 
 our new lodgings very much, — everything is the 
 pink of order and cleanliness. 
 
 Why you should object to Herbert Spencer 
 speaking of Sir William Hamilton's contributions 
 to n theory of perception as " valuable, " I am 
 unable to conceive. Sir William Hamilton has 
 
 Lettter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Hennoll, 
 IGth Oct. 
 1856.
 
 1855.] Physiological Beading. 293 
 
 been of service to him as well as to others; and Letter to 
 instead of repressing acknowledgments of merit in Ke^meii, 
 others, I should like them to be more freely given. 1^5. 
 I see no dignity or anything else that is good in 
 ignoring one's fellow-beings. Herbert Spencer's 
 views, like every other man's views, could not 
 have existed without the substratum laid by his 
 predecessors. But perhaps you mean something 
 that I fail to perceive. Your bit of theology is 
 very fine. Here is a delicious Hibernicism in 
 return. In a treatise on consumption, sent yester- 
 day, the writer says : " There is now hardly any 
 difference on this subject, — at least /feel none." 
 Our life has no incidents except such as take place 
 in our own brains, and the occasional arrival of a 
 longer letter than usual. Yours are always read 
 aloud and enjoyed. Nevertheless our life is in- 
 tensely occupied, and the days are far too short. 
 We are reading Gall's " Anatomic et Physiologic 
 du Cerveau " and Carpenter's " Comparative Physi- 
 ology," aloud in the evenings; and I am trying to 
 fix some knowledge about plexuses and ganglia in 
 my soft brain, which generally only serves me to 
 remember that there is something I ought to re- 
 member, and to regret that I did not put the some- 
 thing down in my note-book. For " Live and learn," 
 we should sometimes read, " Live and grow stupid. " 
 
 You will receive by rail to-morrow a copy of Letter io 
 the " Life and Works of Goethe " (published on 1st o^^tml?' 
 November), which I hope you will accept as a ^^^' 
 keepsake from me. I should have been glad to 
 send it you earlier, but as Mr. Lewes has sold the 
 copyright of the first edition, he has only a small 
 number of copies at his disposal, and so I doubted 
 whether I ought to ask for one. I think you will
 
 294 
 
 Miscellaneous Writing. [Richmond 
 
 Letter to 
 Chiis. Bray, 
 '2lBt Nov. 
 1855. 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Heiuiell, 
 iiiJih Nov. 
 1855. 
 
 Journal, 
 1855. 
 
 find much to interest you in the book. I can't 
 tell you how I value it, as the best product of a 
 mind which I have every day more reason to 
 admire and love. We have had much gratification 
 in the expression of individual opinion. The press 
 is very favourable, but the notices are for the most 
 part too idiotic to give us much pleasure, except 
 in a pecuniary point of view. I am going out to- 
 day, for the first time for nearly a fortnight. 
 
 I have just finished a long article on Heine for 
 the " Westminster lieview, " which none of you will 
 like. En revanche, Mr. Lewes has written one on 
 Lions and Lion Hunters, which you will find 
 
 amusing. 
 
 Journal, 
 1856. 
 
 On the 12th December the Belles Lettres 
 section for the January number of the' " West- 
 minster Eeview " was finished and sent off, and 
 the next entry in the Journal is dated — 
 Dec. 24, 1855. — For the last ten days I have done 
 little, owing to headache and other ailments. Began 
 the " Antigone," read Von Bohlen on Genesis, and 
 Swedenborg. Mr. Chapman wants me to write an 
 article on Missions and Missionaries, for the April 
 number of the " Westminster," but I think I shall 
 not have it ready till the July number. In the 
 afternoon I set out on my journey to see my sister, 
 and arrived at her house about eight o'clock, finding 
 her and her children well. 
 
 Dec. 29, 1855. — Eeturned to Eichmond. G. 
 away at Vernon Hill (Arthur Helps's), having 
 gone thither on Wednesday. 
 
 Dec. 30, 1855. — Eead the "Shaving of Shagpat" 
 (George Meredith's). 
 
 Dec. 31, 1855. — Wrote a review of "Shagpat." 
 
 Jan.l, 1856. — Eead Kingsley's "Greek Heroes," 
 and began a review of Von Bohlen.
 
 1856.] " Life of Goetlier 295 
 
 Jan. 5, 1856. — G. came home. journal, 
 
 Jan. 6, 1856. — Began to revise Book IV. of Spi- ^'^'^• 
 noza's "Ethics," and continued this work through 
 the week, being able to work but slowly. Finished 
 Kahnis' " History of German Protestantism." 
 
 Jan. 16, 1856. — Received a charming letter from 
 Barbara Smith, with a petition to Parliament that 
 women may have a right to their earnings. 
 
 I believe there have been at least a thousand Letter to 
 copies of the " Goethe " sold, which is a wonderfully Heuueiif 
 good sale in less than three months for a 30s-. book. i^e. ^ 
 We have a charming collection of letters, both from 
 remarkable acquaintances and remarkable non-ac- 
 quaintances, expressing enthusiastic delight in the 
 book, — letters all the more delightful because they 
 are quite spontaneous, and spring from a generous 
 wish to let the author know how highly the writers 
 value his work. If you want some idle reading, get 
 the " Shavhig of Shagpat," which I think you will 
 say deserves all the praise I gave it. 
 
 Feb. 19, 1856. — Since the 6th January I have Journal, 
 been occupied with Spinoza; and, except a review 
 of Griswold's "American Poets," have done nothing 
 else but translate the Fifth Book of the " Ethics," 
 and revise the whole of my translation from the 
 beginning. This evening I have finished my 
 revision. 
 
 I was so glad to have a little news of you. I Letter to 
 should like to hear much oftener, but our days Henneu, 
 are so accurately parcelled out among regular occu- isse. 
 pations, that I rarely manage to do anything not 
 included in the programme ; and without reading 
 Mrs. Barbauld on the "Inconsistency of Human 
 Expectations," I know that receiving letters is in- 
 consistent with not writing any. Have you seen
 
 296 
 
 Harriet Martineau. 
 
 [kichmond, 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Heuuell, 
 19th Feb. 
 1856. 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Hennell. 
 25th Feb. 
 1866. 
 
 Letter to 
 Mi SB Sara 
 TIennell, 
 end of Feb. 
 1856. 
 
 any numbers of the "Saturday Eeview," a new 
 journal, on wlncli " all the talents " are engaged ? 
 It is not properly a newspaper, hut — what its 
 title expresses — a political and literary Review. 
 We are delightmg ourselves with Kuskin's third 
 volume, which contains some of the finest writing I 
 have read for a long time (among recent books). I 
 read it aloud for an hour or so after dinner ; then we 
 jump to the old dramatists, when Mr. Lew3s reads to 
 me as long as his voice will hold out, and after this 
 we wind up the evenmg with Eymer Jones's • Animal 
 Kingdom," by which I get a confused knowledge of 
 branchise, and such things, — perhaps, on the whole, 
 a little preferable to total ignorance. These are- our 
 nodes — without cenceiox the present — occasionally 
 diversified by very dramatic singing of Figaro, &c., 
 which, I think, must alarm " that good man, th-^ 
 clergyman," who sits below us. We have been half 
 laughing, half indignant over Alison's new volume 
 of his " History of Europe," in which he undertakes 
 to give an account of German literature. 
 
 What you tell me of Harriet Martineau interests 
 me very much. I feel for her terril)le bodily suffer- 
 ing, and think of her with deep respect and admira- 
 tion. Whatever may have been her mistakes and 
 weaknesses, the great and good things she has done 
 far outweigh them ; and I should be grieved if 
 anything in her memoir should cast a momentary 
 shadow over the agreeable imoge of her that the 
 world will ultimately keep in its memory. I wish 
 less of our piety were spent on imaginary perfect 
 goodness, and more given to real wiperfect goodness. 
 
 I am very happy for you to keep the sheets, and 
 to get signatures (for the Women's Petition that 
 they should have legal right to their own earnings).
 
 1856.] Spinoza's Ethios. 297 
 
 Miss Barbara Smith writes that she must have them Letter to 
 returned to her before the 1st of March. I am glad Henncu? 
 you have taken up the cause, for I do think that, i806.°^^^^ 
 with proper provisos and safeguards, the proposed 
 law would help to raise the position and character 
 of women. It is one round of a long ladder stretch- 
 ing far beyond our lives. 
 
 During March George Eliot wrote only the 
 Belles Lettres section for the April number of 
 the " Westminster," having resigned the subject 
 of " Missions " to Harriet Martineau. She also 
 wrote two articles for the " Saturday Eeview," 
 and two for the "Leader," And there are the 
 following letters in March to the Brays, in which 
 allusion is made to their leaving the old home 
 at Kosehill, owing to the unsatisfactory state of 
 the Coventry business. 
 We are flourishing in every way except in health. Letter to 
 Mr. Lewes's head is still infirm, but he manages, 2Gtifkarc£ 
 nevertheless, to do twice as much work as other ^^^^' 
 people. I am always a croaker, you know, but my 
 ailments are of a small kind, their chief symptoms 
 being a muddled brain ; and as my pen is not of 
 the true literary order which will run along with- 
 out the help of brains, I don't get through so much 
 work as I should like. By the way, when the Spi- 
 noza comes out, be so good as not to mention my 
 name in connection with it. I particularly wish 
 not to be known as the translator of the " Ethics," 
 for reasons which it would be " too tedious to 
 mention." You don't know what a severely practi- 
 cal person I am become, and what a sharp eye I 
 have to the main chance. I keep the purse, and 
 dole out sovereigns with all the pangs of a miser, 
 lu fact, if you were to feel my bump of acquisitive-
 
 298 
 
 Brays leaving Bosehill. [Richmond, 
 
 Letter to 
 Cbas. Bray, 
 2Cth March, 
 185<3. 
 
 Letter to 
 Chas. Bray, 
 31st March, 
 185& 
 
 Letter to 
 Chas. Bray, 
 1st April, 
 1856. 
 
 ness, I daresay you would find it in a state of 
 inflammation, like the " veneration " of that clergy- 
 man to whom Mr. Donovan said, " Sir, you have 
 recently been engaged in prayer." I hope you rec- 
 ognised your own wit about the one-eyed dissenters, 
 which was quoted in the " Leader " some time ago. 
 You always said no one did so much justice to 
 your jokes as I did. 
 
 My mind is more rebellious than yours, and I 
 can't help being saddened by the idea of you and 
 Cara being in any other home than the dear old 
 one. But I know that your cheerful courage is 
 yet stronger in deed than in word. Will not busi- 
 ness or pleasure bring you to London soon, and 
 will you not come to see us ? We can give you a 
 bed, — not a sumptuous one, but one which you will 
 perhaps not find intolerable for a night. I know 
 the trip up the Thames is charming, and we should 
 like to do it with you, but I don't think we can 
 manage it this summer. We are going to send 
 or take the boys (Mr. Lewes's sons) to school in 
 Germany at midsummer, and are at present uncer- 
 tain about our arrangements. If we can send them, 
 we shall go to the coast as soon as the warm 
 weather comes, and remain there for three months. 
 But our plans are not yet crystallised. 
 
 After I wrote you yesterday morning we had a 
 letter from Germany which has made Mr. Lewes 
 incline to defer sending the boys thither till next 
 year. But he is anxious to remove them from their 
 present school; and in the course of our consulta- 
 tions on the subject, we thought of Mr. John Sil^ree 
 as a person in whom we should feel confidence as 
 to the moral influence he would exercise as a tutor. 
 The risk of placing children with entire strangers ia
 
 J856.] Plan of sending Boys to Hofwyl. 299 
 
 terrible. So I tease you with another letter to ask 
 you if Mr. J. Sibree continues in the same position 
 as formerly, and if he is still anxious to obtain 
 pupils. What a delicious day ! We are going to 
 have a holiday at the Zoological Gardens. 
 
 Thank you for taking the trouble to write me Letter to 
 a full account of matters so interesting to me. I Henneu* 
 hope you will be able thoroughly to enjoy this last is^'of^'''^' 
 precious summer on the pretty lawn, where it is 
 one of my pleasures on sunshiny days to think of 
 you all strolling about or seated on the Bearskin. 
 We are very thankful for the Hofwyl circular, and 
 have almost decided to send the two eldest boys 
 there. But it is necessary to weigh all things 
 carefully before coming to a determination ; as not 
 being either swindlers or philanthropists, we don't 
 like to incur obligations which there is not a rea- 
 sonable certainty of our being able to meet. I 
 am much obliged to Mr. Bray, too, for sending 
 Mr. John Sibree's letter. Mr. Lewes had already 
 received an answer from him declining his propo- 
 sition, but we were interested to read his very 
 characteristic letter to his sister, which proved to 
 Mr. Lewes that I had given him a correct descrip- 
 tion of the man. 
 
 The next few weeks are, perhaps, the most 
 signally important and interesting of all in 
 George Eliot's development. There are unmis- 
 takable signs of the rising of the sap of creative 
 production. 
 
 In the middle of April Mr. Herbert Spencer, 
 who had been away from London for some time, 
 returned to town, and dined with them at Park 
 Shot on the 15th, and on the IStli they went 
 with him to Sydenham. On the 22d April
 
 ISoti. 
 
 300 Journey to Itfracomhe. [ilf-eacombe, 
 
 George Eliot began her article on Young ; and 
 on the 29th she began to read Eiehl's book,^ on 
 which she was to write another article for the 
 " Westminster." On the 8th of May they set off 
 for Ilfracombe, and we have the following " rec- 
 ollections " of that place : — 
 nfracombe, It was a cold unfriendly day — the 8th of May — on 
 tious^May, which wc sct out for Ilfracombe with our hamper of 
 glass jars, which we meant for our sea-side vivarium. 
 We had to get down at Windsor, and were not 
 sorry that the interval was long enough to let us 
 walk round the Castle, which I had never seen be- 
 fore except from a distance. The famous " slopes," 
 the avenues in the Park, and the distant landscape 
 looked very lovely in the fresh and delicate greens 
 of spring ; and the Castle is surely the most de- 
 lightful royal residence in the world. We took our 
 places from Windsor all the way to Exeter; and 
 at Bristol, where we had to wait three hours, the 
 misery of my terrible headache was mitigated by 
 the interest we felt in seeing the grand old Church 
 of St. Mary Eedcliffe, forever associated with the 
 memory of Chatterton — 
 
 " It stands, the maestrie of a human hand, 
 The pride of Bristowe and the western land." 
 
 It was cheering the next morning after our arrival 
 at Ilfracombe to get up with a head rather less ach- 
 ing, and to walk up and down the little garden of 
 Eunnymede Villa in the bright sunshine. I had a 
 great deal of work before me, — the writing of an 
 article on Eiehl's books, which I had not half read, 
 as well as the article on Belles Lettres; but mv 
 head was s^iiU dizzy, and it seemed impossible to 
 
 J " Land und Volk."
 
 1856.] Description of Scenery. 301 
 
 sit down to writing at once in these new scenes, nfracombe, 
 so we determined to spend the day in explorations, tions, May, 
 
 From our windows we had a view of the higher 
 part of the town, and generally it looked uninter- 
 esting enough ; but what is it that light cannot 
 transfigure into beauty ? One evening after a shower, 
 as the sun was setting over the sea behind us, 
 some peculiar arrangement of clouds threw a deli- 
 cious evening light on the irregular cluster of houses, 
 and merged the ugliness of their forms in an ex- 
 quisite flood of colour, — as a stupid person is 
 made glorious by a noble deed. A perfect rain- 
 bow arched over the picture. From one end of 
 the Capstone we have an admirable bit for a 
 picture. In the background rises old Helesborough, 
 jutting out far into the sea, — rugged and rocky 
 as it fronts the waves, green and accessible land- 
 ward : in front of this stands Lantern Hill, a pic- 
 turesque mass of green and grey, surmounted by 
 an old bit of building that looks as if it were 
 the habitation of some mollusc that had secreted 
 its shell from the material of the rock; and quite 
 in the foreground, contrasting finely in colour with 
 the rest, are some lower perpendicular rocks of 
 dark-brown tints, patched here and there with vivid 
 green. In hilly districts, where houses and clusters 
 of houses look so tiny against the huge limbs of 
 mother earth, one cannot help thinking of man 
 as a parasitic animal, — an epizoou making his 
 abode in the skin of the planetary organism. In 
 a flat country, a house or a town looks imposing : 
 there is nothing to rival it in height, and we may 
 imagine the earth a mere pedestal for us. But 
 when one sees a house stuck on the side of a 
 great hill, and still more, a number of houses look-
 
 302 
 
 Naturalistic Experiences, [ilfkacombe, 
 
 lUracombe, 
 
 Kecollec- 
 tions, May, 
 Juue, 1S50. 
 
 ing like a few barnacles clustered on the side of 
 a great rock, we begin to think of the strong 
 family likeness between ourselves and all other 
 building, burrowing, house-appropriating, and shell- 
 secreting animals. The difi'erence between a man 
 with his house and a mollusc with its shell lies 
 in the number of steps or phenomena interposed 
 between the fact of individual existence and the 
 completion of the building. Whatever other ad- 
 vantages we may have over molluscs and insects 
 in our habitations, it is clear that their architec- 
 ture has the advantage of ours in beauty, — at 
 least, considered as the architecture of the species. 
 Look at man in the light of a shell-fish, and it 
 must be admitted that his shell is generally ugly ; 
 and it is only after a great many more " steps or 
 phenomena " that he secretes here and there a won- 
 derful shell in the shape of a temple or a palace. 
 
 On our first zoophyte hunt it was characteristic 
 of the wide difference there is between having eyes 
 and seeing, that in this region of sea-anemones, 
 where the Mesembryanthemum especially is as 
 plenty as blackberries, we climbed about for two 
 hours without seeing one anemone, and went in 
 again with scarcely anything but a few stones and 
 weeds to put into our jars. On our next hunt, 
 however, after we had been out some time, G. 
 exclaimed, " I see an anemone ! " And we were 
 immensely excited by the discovery of this little 
 red Mesembryanthemum, which we afterwards dis- 
 dained to gather, as much as if it had been a 
 nettle. It was a crescendo of delight when we 
 found a " strawberry, " and a fortissimo when I for 
 the first time saw the pale fawn-coloured tentacles 
 of an Anthca ccreus viciously waving like little
 
 1856.] Zoological Exjpeditioiis. 303 
 
 serpents in a low-tide pool. But not a polype for luracombe, 
 a long, long while could even G. detect, after all tions, May, 
 his reading, — so necessary is it for the eye to be ^^^' 
 educated by objects as well as ideas. Every day I 
 gleaned some little bit of naturalistic experience, 
 either through G. 's calling on me to look through 
 the microscope, or from hunting on the rocks ; and 
 this in spite of my preoccupation with my article, 
 which I worked at considerably a contr-e-cceiir, 
 despairing of it ever being worth anything. When 
 at last, by the 17th of June, both my articles were 
 despatched, I felt delightfully at liberty, and 
 determined to pay some attention to seaweeds, 
 which I had never seen in such beauty as at Ilfra- 
 combe. For hitherto I had been chiefly on chalky 
 and sandy shores, where there were no rock-pools to 
 show off the lovely colours and forms of the algai. 
 There are tide-pools to be seen almost at every 
 other step on the shore at Ilfracombe ; and I shall 
 never forget their appearance when we first arrived 
 there. The Corallina ojicinalis was then in its 
 greatest perfection, and with its purple-pink fronds 
 threw into relief the dark olive fronds of the 
 Laminarise on one side and the vivid green of the 
 Ulva and Enteromorpha on the other. After we 
 had been there a few weeks, the Corallina was 
 faded ; and I noticed the Mesogloia vermicularis 
 and the M. virescens, which look very lovely in 
 the water from the white cilia, which make the 
 most delicate fringe to their yellow-brown, whip- 
 like fronds, and some of the common Polysiphonise. 
 These tide-pools made me quite in love with sea- 
 weeds, so I took up Landsborough's book and tried 
 to get a little more light on their structure and 
 history.
 
 304 Rev. Mr. Tugwell. [ilfracombe, 
 
 nfracombe, OuT zoological expeditions alternated with deli- 
 tiouslMay, cious inland walks. I think the country looked 
 June, 1856. j^g -^^^^ when We arrived. It was just that mo- 
 ment in spring when the leaves are in full leaf, 
 but still keep their delicate varieties of colouring, 
 and that transparency which belongs only to this 
 season. And the furze was in all its golden glory ! 
 It was almost like the fading away of the evening 
 red, when tlie furze blossoms died off from the 
 hills, and the only contrast left was that of the 
 marly soil with the green crops and woods. The 
 primroses were the contemporaries of the furze, 
 and sprinkled the sides of the hills with their pale 
 stars almost as plentifully as daisies or buttercups 
 elsewhere. But the great charm of all Devonshire 
 lanes is the springs that you detect gurgling in 
 shady recesses, covered with liverwort, with here 
 and there waving tufts of fern and other broad- 
 leaved plants that love obscurity and moisture. 
 
 We seemed to make less of our evenings at Ilfra- 
 combe than we have ever done elsewhere. We 
 used often to be tired with our hunting or walk- 
 ing; and w^e were reading books which did not 
 make us take them up very eagerly, — Gosse's 
 " Eambles on the Devonshire Coast, " for example ; 
 Trench's " Calderon," and other volumes, taken up 
 in a desultory way. One bit of reading we had 
 there, however, which interested me deeply. It 
 was Masson's " Life of Chatterton, " which happily 
 linked itself with the impressions I had received 
 from the sight of the old church at Bristol. 
 
 Mr. Tugwell 's (the curate) acquaintance was a 
 real acquisition to us, not only because he was a 
 companion and helper in zoological pursuits, but 
 because to know him was to know of another sweet
 
 1856.] The " Meadows." 305 
 
 Dature in the world. It is always good to know, mracombe, 
 if only in passing, a charming human being ; it tious^May, 
 refreshes one like flowers, and woods, and clear '^""®' ^^^' 
 brooks. One Sunday evening we walked up to his 
 pretty house to carry back some proofs of his, and 
 he induced us to go in and have coffee with him. 
 He played on his harmonium, and we chatted 
 pleasantly. The last evening of our stay at Ilfra- 
 combe he came to see us in Mrs. Webster's drawing- 
 room, and we had music till nearly eleven o'clock, 
 — a pleasant recollection ! 
 
 We only twice took the walk beyond Water- 
 mouth towards Berrynarbor. The road lies through 
 what are called the " Meadows, " which look like 
 a magnificent park. A stream, fringed with wild 
 flowers and willows, runs along the valley, two or 
 three yards from the side of the road. This stream 
 is clear as crystal, and about every twenty yards 
 it falls over a little artificial precipice of stones. 
 The long grass was waving in all the glory of 
 June, before the mower has come to make it suffer 
 a "love change" from beauties into sw^eet odours; 
 and the slopes on each side of us were crowned or 
 clothed with fine trees. The last time we went 
 through these meadows was on our last day at 
 Ilfracombe. Such sunlight and such deep peace 
 on the hills and by the stream! Coming back, we 
 rested on a gate under the trees, and a blind man 
 came up to rest also. He told us, in his slow 
 way, what a fine " healthy spot" this was, — yes, a 
 very healthy spot, — a healthy spot. And then 
 we went on our way, and saw his face no more. 
 
 I have talked of the Ilfracombe lanes without 
 describing them, for to describe them one ought to 
 know the names of all the lovely wild flowers that 
 
 VOL I. — 20
 
 1856. 
 
 306 The Scientific Spirit. [ilfracombe, 
 
 iifracombe, cliister Oil their banks. Almost every yard of 
 tioM.june, these banks is a "Hunt" picture, — a delicious 
 crowding of mosses, and delicate trefoil, and wild 
 strawberries, and ferns great and small. But the 
 crowning beauty of the lanes is the springs that 
 gush out in little recesses by the side of the road, 
 — recesses glossy with liverwort and feathery with 
 fern. Sometimes you have the spring when it has 
 grown into a brook, either rushing down a minia- 
 ture cataract by the lane-side, or flowing gently as 
 a " braided streamlet" across your path. I never 
 before longed so much to know the names of things 
 as during this visit to Ilfracombe. The desire is 
 part of the tendency that is now constantly grow-- 
 ing in me to escape from all vagueness and inac- 
 curacy into the daylight of distinct vivid ideas. 
 The mere fact of naming an object tends to give 
 definiteness to our conception of it. We have then 
 a sign which at once calls up in our minds the 
 distinctive qualities which mark out for us that 
 particular object from all others. 
 
 We ascended the Tors only twice ; for a tax of 
 Zd. per head was demanded on this luxury, and 
 we could not afford a sixpenny walk very fre- 
 quently : yet the view is perhaps the very finest 
 to be had at Ilfracombe. Bay behind bay, fringed 
 with foam, and promontory behind promontory, 
 each with its peculiar shades of purple light, — 
 the sweep of the Welsh coast faintly visible in the 
 distance, and the endless expanse of sea flecked 
 with ships stretching on our left. 
 
 One evening we v/ent down to the shore through 
 the " Tunnels" to see the sunset. Standing in the 
 " Ladies' Cove," we had before us the sharp frag- 
 ments of rock jutting out of the waves and stand-
 
 1856.] Leave for Tenly. 307 
 
 ing black against the orange and crimson sky. mracombe, 
 How lovely to look into that brilliant distance tioM, June, 
 and see the ship on the horizon seeming to sail ^^^' 
 away from the cold and dim world behind it right 
 into the golden glory ! I have always that sort of 
 feeling when I look at sunset : it always seems to 
 me that there in the West lies a land of light and 
 warmth and love. 
 
 On the 26th of June we said good-bye to Ilfra- 
 combe. The sight of the cockle-women at Swansea, 
 where we had to wait, would make a fine subject 
 for a painter. One of them was the grandest 
 woman I ever saw, — six feet high, carrying her- 
 self like a Greek warrior, and treading the earth 
 with unconscious majesty. Her face was weather- 
 beaten and wizened, but her eyes were bright and 
 piercing, and the lines of her face, with its high 
 cheek-bones, strong and characteristic. The guard 
 at the railway station told us that one of the 
 porters had been insolent the other day to a cockle- 
 woman, and that she immediately pitched him off 
 the platform into the road below ! 
 
 When we arrived here, I had not even read a Letter to the 
 great book on which I had engaged to write a long junef'isse. 
 article by the beginning of this month ; so that combe. ^'^ 
 between work and zoology and bodily ailments my 
 time has been full to overflowing. We are en- 
 chanted with Ilfracombe. I really think it is the 
 loveliest sea place I ever saw, from the combina- 
 tion of fine rocky coast with exquisite inland 
 scenery. But it would not do for any one who 
 can't climb rocks and mount perpetual hills; for 
 the peculiarity of this country is that it is all 
 hill and no valley. You have no sooner got to the 
 foot of one hill than you begin to mount another.
 
 308 
 
 Zoological Delights. 
 
 TENBY, 
 
 Letter to the YoU 
 Biays, 6th 
 Juue, ISul), 
 liom Ihra- 
 combe. 
 
 would laugh to see oui .oom decked with 
 
 Letter to 
 Mrs. Peter 
 Taylor, 8th 
 June, 1856. 
 
 yellow pie-dishes, o. foot pan, glass jars and phials, 
 all full of zoophytes, or molluscs, or annelids, — 
 and still more, to see the eager interest with which 
 we rush to our " preserves" in the morning to see 
 if there has been any mortality among them in the 
 night. We have made the acquaintance of a 
 charming little zoological curate here, who is a 
 delightful companion on expeditions, and is most 
 good-natured in lending and giving apparatus and 
 " critturs" of all sorts. Mr. Pigott^ is coming 
 here in his brother's yacht at the end of June, and 
 we hope then to go to Clovelly, — Kingsley's 
 Clovelly, — and perhaps other places on the coast 
 that we can't reach on foot. After this we mean 
 to migrate to Tenby, for the sake of making ac- 
 quaintance with its molluscs and medusse. 
 
 I received your kind letter only yesterday, but I 
 write a few words in answer at once, lest, as it so 
 often happens, delay should beget delay. 
 
 It is never too late to write generous words, and 
 although circumstances are not likely to allow of 
 our acquiring a more intimate knowledge of each 
 
 other from personal intercourse, 
 a pleasant thought to me that 
 
 it will always be 
 you have remem- 
 bered me kindly, and interpreted me nobly. You 
 are one of the minority who know how to " use 
 their imagination in the service of charity. " 
 
 I have suffered so much from misunderstanding 
 created by letters, even to old friends, that I never 
 write on private personal matters, unless it be a 
 rigorous duty or necessity to do so. Some little 
 
 1 Mr. Edward Smytli PisT'itt, who remnined to the end of tlieir 
 lives a very close aud much valued friend of Mr Lewes and 
 George YA\ot.
 
 1 Sara 
 nell, 
 
 29th June, 
 
 1856. 
 
 ad56.] Life at Tenby. 309 
 
 phrase or allusion is misinterpreted, and on this Letter to 
 .>Use basis a great fabric of misconception is reared, Tayior, sth 
 which even explanatory conversations will not ^"^^^ ^^''' 
 remove. Life is too precious to be spent in this 
 weaving and unweaving of false impressions, and 
 it is better to live quietly on under some degree of 
 misrepresentation than to attempt to remove it by 
 the uncertain process of letter-writing. 
 
 Yes, indeed, I do remember old Tenby days. Letter to 
 and had set my heart on being in the very same HeuneuT 
 house again ; but, alas ! it had just been let. It is ""''" ^■■■' 
 immensely smartened up, like the place gener- 
 ally, since those old times, and is proportionately 
 less desirable for quiet people who have no flounces 
 and do not subscribe to new churches. Tenby 
 looks insignificant in picturesqueness after Ilfra- 
 combe; but the two objects that drew us hither, 
 zoology and health, will flourish none the worse 
 for the absence of tall precipices and many-tinted 
 rocks. The air is delicious, — soft but not sultry, 
 — and the sands and bathing such as are to be 
 found nowhere else. St. Catherine's Eock with its 
 caverns is our paradise. We go there with baskets, 
 hammers and chisels, and jars and phials, and come 
 home laden with spoils. Altogether we are con- 
 tented to have been driven away from Ilfracombe 
 by the cold wind, since a new place is new expe- 
 rience, and Mr, Lewes has never been here before. 
 To me there is the additional pleasure — half 
 melancholy — of recalling all the old impressions 
 and comparing them with the new. I understand 
 your wish to have as much of Eosehill as possible 
 this year, and I am so glad that you will associate 
 a visit from Herbert Spencer with this last sum- 
 mer. I suppose he is with you now. If so, give
 
 310 Life at Tenhy. [tenby, 
 
 Letter to him mv very evil regards, and tell him that 
 
 Misa Sara «/ / o ' 
 
 Henneli, bccausc he has not written to us we will dili- 
 1856. ' gently not tell him a great many things he would 
 have liked to know. We have a project of going 
 into St. Catherine's caverns with lanterns, some 
 night when the tide is low, about eleven, for the 
 sake of seeing the zoophytes preparing for their 
 midnight revels. The Actinia, like other belles, 
 put on their best faces on such occasions. Two 
 things we have lost by leaving Ilfracombe, for 
 which we have no compensation, — the little zo- 
 ological curate, Mr. Tugwell, who is really one of 
 the best specimens of the clergyman species I have 
 seen ; and the pleasure of having Miss Barbara 
 Smith there for a week sketching the rocks and 
 putting our love of them into the tangible form of 
 a picture. We are looking out now for Mr. Pigott 
 in his brother's yacht ; and his amiable face will 
 make an agreable variety on the sands. I thought 
 " Walden"! (you mean " Life in the Woods," don't 
 you ?) a charming book, from its freshness and 
 sincerity as well as for its bits of description. It 
 is pleasant to think that Harriet Martineau can 
 make so much of her last days. Her energy and 
 her habit of useful work are admirable. 
 
 During the stay at Ilfracombe and Tenby 
 not much literary work was done, except the 
 articles on Young and on Eiehl's book. There 
 was a notice of Masson's Essays and the Belles 
 Lettres section for the July number of the 
 " Westminster, " and a review for the " Leader. " 
 There is mention, too, of the reading of 
 Beaumarchais' "Memoirs," Milne Edwards's 
 " Zoology," Harvey's sea-side book, and " Corio- 
 1 By Thoreau.
 
 1856.] First Jlention of Fiction Writing. 311 
 
 lanus, " and then comes this significant sentence 
 in her Journal : — 
 July 20, 1856. — The fortnight has slipped away Joumai, 
 without my being able to show much result from 
 it. I have written a review of the " Lover's Seat," 
 and jotted down some recollections of Ilfracombe : 
 besides these trities, and the introduction to an 
 article already written, I have done no visible 
 work. But I have absorbed many ideas and much 
 bodily strength ; indeed I do not remember ever 
 feeling so strong in miud and body as I feel at 
 this moment. On Saturday the 12th Barbara 
 Smith arrived, and stayed here till Wednesday 
 morning. We enjoyed her society very much, but 
 were deeply touched to see that three years had 
 made her so much older and sadder. Her activity 
 for great objects is admirable ; and contact with 
 her is a fresh inspiration to work while it is day. 
 We have now taken up Quatrefages again. The 
 " Memoirs " of Beaumarchais yielded me little fruit. 
 Mr. Chapman invites me to contribute to the 
 " Westminster " for this quarter. I am anxious to 
 begin my fiction writing, and so am not inclined 
 to undertake an article that will give me much 
 trouble, but at all events, I will finish my article 
 on Young. 
 
 July 21. — We had a delightful walk on the 
 north sands, and hunted with success. A sunny, 
 happy day. 
 
 Glad to hear at last some news of your Essay, — Letter to 
 hoping to hear more and better by-and-by. I uenneii, 
 didn't like to think that your labour would be i^."'"^^' 
 thrown away, except so far as it must do good to 
 yourself by clearing up your ideas. Not that your 
 ideas were muddy, but the last degree of clearness
 
 312 
 
 Mr. Pigott's Visit 
 
 [tenby 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Hennell, 
 29th July, 
 185(>. 
 
 Letter to 
 Clias. Bray, 
 eth Aug. 
 1856. 
 
 can only come by writing. Mr. Pigott is with us 
 just now, and we are meditating a nocturnal visit 
 to St. Catherine's caves with him. Our visit to 
 Tenby has been very useful zoologically, but we 
 are not otherwise greatly in love with the place. 
 It seems tame and vulgar after Ilfracombe. 
 
 Thank you for your kind note,^ so like yourself. 
 Such things encourage me, and help me to do bet- 
 ter. I never think what I write is good for any- 
 thing till other people tell me so, and even then 
 it always seems to me as if I should never write 
 anything else worth reading. Ah, how much good 
 we may do each other by a few friendly words, 
 and the opportunities for them are so much more 
 frequent than for friendly deeds ! We want people 
 to feel with us more than to act for us. Mr. 
 Lewes sends his kind regards to you. He too 
 was very pleased with your letter, for he cares 
 more about getting approbation for me than for 
 himself. He can do very well without it. 
 
 On the 8th August they left Tenby, and on 
 9th arrived at Eichmond, "with terrible head- 
 ache, but enjoyed the sense of being ' at home ' 
 again." On the 18th, " walked in Kew Park, 
 and talked with G. of my novel. Finished 
 ' Cdsar Birotteau ' aloud." On the 25th August 
 Mr. Lewes set off for Hofwyl, near Berne, tak- 
 ing his two eldest boys, Charles and Thorn- 
 ton, to place them at school there. He returned 
 on 4th September, and in his absence George 
 Eliot had been busy with her article on " Silly 
 Novels by Lady Novelists." This was finished 
 on the 12th September, and on the 19th she 
 
 ^ About the article on Eiehl's book, " The Natural History of 
 German Life."
 
 iS56.] First Novel. 313 
 
 sent off the Belles Lettres section for the October 
 
 number of the " Westminster. " 
 
 We have now arrived at the period of the 
 
 new birth, and fortunately, in the following 
 
 memorandum, we have George Eliot's own 
 
 words as to how it came about : — 
 September, 1856, made a new era in my life, for it how i came 
 was then I began to write fiction. It had always fiction, 
 been a vague dream of mine that some time or 
 other I might write a novel; and my shadowy 
 conception of what the novel was to be, varied, of 
 course, from one epoch of my life to another. But 
 I never went further towards the actual writing of 
 the novel than an introductory chapter describing 
 a Staffordshire village and the life of the neigh- 
 bouring farm-houses ; and as the years passed on, I 
 lost any hope that I should ever be able to write 
 a novel, just as I desponded about everything else 
 in my future life. I always thought I was defi- 
 cient in dramatic power, both of construction and 
 dialogue, but I felt I should be at my ease in the 
 descriptive parts of a novel. My " introductory 
 chapter" was pure description, though there were 
 good materials in it for dramatic presentation. It 
 happened to be among the papers I had with me in 
 Germany, and one evening at Berlin something 
 led me to read it to George. He was struck with 
 it as a bit of concrete description, and it suggested 
 to him the possibility of my being able to write a 
 novel, though he distrusted — indeed disbelieved 
 in — my possession of any dramatic power. Still, 
 he began to think that I might as well try some 
 time what I could do in fiction ; and by-and-by, 
 when we came back to England, and I had greater 
 success than he ever expected in other kinds of
 
 814 Title of First Story. ' [richmokd, 
 
 Bow I came Writing, liis impression that it was worth while to 
 fiction!^ see how far my mental power would go, towards 
 the production of a novel, was strengthened. He 
 began to say very positively, " You must try and 
 write a story," and when we were at Tenby he 
 urged me to begin at once. I deferred it, however, 
 after my usual fashion, with work that does not 
 present itself as an absolute duty. But one morn- 
 ing as I was thinking what should be the subject 
 of my first story, my thoughts merged themselves 
 into a dreamy doze, and I imagined myself writing 
 a story, of which the title was " The Sad Fortunes 
 of the Eeverend Amos Barton. " I was soon wide 
 awake again, and told G. He said, " Oh, what a 
 capital title ! " and from that time I had settled 
 in my mind that this should be my first story. 
 George used to say, " It may be a failure, — it may 
 be that you are unable to write fiction. Or per- 
 haps it may be just good enough to warrant you 
 trying again. " Again, " You may write a chef- 
 d'oeuvre at once, — there 's no telling. " But his 
 prevalent impression was that though I could 
 hardly write a poor novel, my effort would want 
 the highest quality of fiction, — dramatic presenta- 
 tion. He used to say, " You have wit, descrip- 
 tion, and philosophy, — those go a good way 
 towards the production of a novel. It is worth 
 while for you to try the experiment. " 
 
 We determined that if my story turned out good 
 enough, we would send it to Blackwood ; but G. 
 thought the more probable result was that I should 
 have to lay it aside and try again. 
 
 But when we returned to Richmond, I had to 
 write my article on " Silly Novels," and my review 
 of Contemporary Literature for the " Westminster,"
 
 1856.] Mr. Lewes's Encouragement. 315 
 
 so that I did not begin my story till September 22. How i came 
 After I had begun it, as we were walking in the ficu^n.^ 
 park, I mentioned to G. that I had thought of the 
 plan of writing a series of stories, containing 
 sketches drawn from my own observation of the 
 clergy, and calling them " Scenes from Clerical 
 Life, " opening with " Amos Barton. " He at once 
 accepted the notion as a good one, — fresh and 
 striking ; and about a week afterwards, when I 
 read him the first part of "Amos," he had no 
 longer any doubt about my ability to carry out the 
 plan. The scene at Cross Farm, he said, satisfied 
 him that I had the very element he had been 
 doubtful about, — it was clear I could write good 
 dialogue. There still remained the question 
 whether I could command any pathos ; and that 
 was to be decided by the mode in which I treated 
 Milly's death. One night G. went to town on 
 purpose to leave me a quiet evening for writing it. 
 I wrote the chapter from the news brought by the 
 shepherd to Mrs. Hackit, to the moment when 
 Amos is dragged from the bedside, and I read it 
 to G. when he came home. We both cried over it, 
 and then he came up to me and kissed me, saying, 
 " I think your pathos is better than your fun. " 
 
 The story of the " Sad Fortunes of Amos 
 Barton" was begun on 22d September and 
 finished on the 5th November, and I subjoin 
 the opening correspondence between Mr. Lewes 
 and Mr. John Blackwood, to exhibit the first 
 effect it produced : — 
 
 " I trouble you with a MS. of ' Sketches of Letter from 
 
 ^^^ ' t -r • P , ^ • ^ ^ • i , Gr. H. Lewes, 
 
 Clerical Lite, which was submitted to me by toJoim 
 a friend who desired my good offices with you. ethNor. ' 
 
 ^ ^ "^1856.
 
 316 Correspondence with Blackwood, [riciimonb 
 
 Letter from 
 G. H. Lewes 
 to John 
 Blackwood, 
 6th Nov. 
 1866. 
 
 It goes by this post. I confess that before 
 reading the MS. I had considerable doubts of 
 my friend's powers as a writer of fiction; but 
 after reading it, these doubts were changed 
 into very high admiration. I don't know what 
 you will think of the story, but according to 
 my judgment, such humour, pathos, vivid pre- 
 sentation, and nice observation, have not been 
 exhibited (in this style) since the ' Vicar of 
 Wakefield ; ' and in consequence of that opin- 
 ion, I feel quite pleased in negotiating the 
 matter with you. 
 
 " This is what I am commissioned to say 
 to you about the proposed series. It will con- 
 sist of tales and sketches illustrative of the 
 actual life of our country clergy about a quarter 
 of a century ago, — but solely in its human, 
 and not at all in its theological aspects ; the 
 object being to do what has never yet been 
 done in our literature, for we have had abun- 
 dant religious stories, polemical and doctrinal, 
 but since the ' Vicar ' and Miss Austen, no 
 stories representing the clergy like every other 
 class, with the humours, sorrows, and troubles 
 of other men. He begged me particularly to 
 add that — as the specimen sent will sufficiently 
 prove — the tone throughout will be sympa- 
 thetic, and not at all antagonistic. 
 
 " Some of these, if not all, you may think 
 suitable for 'Maga. ' If any are sent of which 
 you do not approve, or which you do not think 
 sufficiently interesting, these he will reserve 
 for the separate republication, and for this pur- 
 pose he wishes to retain the copyright. Should 
 you only print one or two, he will be well
 
 1856.] Correspondence with Blackwood. 317 
 
 satisfied ; aud still better, if you should think 
 well enough of the series to undertake the 
 separate republication. " 
 
 " I am happy to say that I think your friend's Letter from 
 reminiscences of Clerical Life will do. If wo'^fo^'^^' 
 there is any more of the series written I should mh'N^vT^^ 
 like to see it, as, until I saw more, I could not ^^^* 
 make any decided proposition for the publica- 
 tion of the Tales, in whole or in part, in the 
 'Magazine. ' This first specimen, 'Amos Bar- 
 ton, ' is unquestionably very pleasant reading. 
 Perhaps the author falls into the error of trying 
 too much to explain the characters of his actors 
 by description instead of allowing them to 
 evolve in the action of the story ; but the de- 
 scriptions are very humorous and good. The 
 death of Milly is powerfully done, and affected 
 me much. I am not sure whether he does not 
 spoil it a little by specifying so minutely the 
 different children and their names. The wind- 
 up is perhaps the lamest part of the story ; and 
 there, too, I think the defect is caused by the 
 specifications as to the fortunes of parties of 
 whom the reader has no previous knowledge, 
 and cannot, consequently, feel much interest. 
 At first I was afraid that in the amusing rem- 
 iniscences of childhood in church there was a 
 want of some softening touch, such as the 
 remembrance of a father or mother lends, in 
 after years, to what was at the time consider- 
 able penance. 
 
 " T hate anvthing of a sneer at real religious 
 feeling as cordially as I despise anything like 
 cant, and I should think this author is of the 
 same way of thinking, although his clergymen,
 
 318 Mr. Blackwood's and Lewes' s [Richmond, 
 
 Letter from 
 John Black- 
 wood to 
 G. H. Lewes, 
 I'^th Nov. 
 l»5t). 
 
 Letter from 
 G. H. Lewes 
 to John 
 Blackwood, 
 Saturday, 
 Nov. 1856. 
 
 with one exception, are not very attractive 
 specimens of the body. The revulsion of feel- 
 ing towards poor Amos is capitally drawn, 
 although the asinine stupidity of his conduct 
 about the Countess had disposed one to kick 
 him. 
 
 " I daresay I shall have a more decided opin- 
 ion as to the merits of the story when I have 
 looked at it again and thought over it ; but in 
 the meantime I am sure that there is a happy 
 
 turn of expression 
 humour and pathos. 
 
 throughout, also much 
 If the author is a new 
 writer, I beg to congratulate him on being 
 worthy of the honours of print and pay. I 
 shall be very glad to hear from you or him 
 soon. " 
 
 " I have communicated your letter to my 
 clerical friend, who, though somewhat dis- 
 couraged by it, has taken my advice, and will 
 submit the second story to you when it is writ- 
 ten. At present he has only written what he 
 sent you. His avocations, he informs me, will 
 prevent his setting to work for the next three 
 weeks or so, but as soon as he is at liberty he 
 will begin. 
 
 " I rate the story much higher than you 
 appear to do, from certain expressions in your 
 note, though you too appreciate the humour 
 and pathos and the happy turn of expression. 
 It struck me as being fresher than any story I 
 have read for a long while, and as exhibiting, 
 in a high degree, that faculty which I find to 
 be the rarest of all, — viz. , the dramatic 
 ventriloquism. 
 
 " At the same time I told him that I thor-
 
 1856.] Opinion of "Amos Barton." 319 
 
 oughly understood your editorial caution in not 
 accepting from an unknown hand a series on 
 the strength of one specimen. " 
 
 " I was very far from intending that my Letter from 
 letter should convey anything like disappoint- wo^to^"^" 
 ment to your friend. On the contrary, I fsth'^ovT^^' 
 thought the tale very good, and intended to '^^*^' 
 convey as much. But I daresay I expressed 
 myself coolly enough. Criticism would assume 
 a much soberer tone were critics compelled 
 seriously to act whenever they expressed an 
 opinion. Although not much given to hesitate 
 about anything, I always think twice before I 
 put the decisive mark 'In type for the Magazine' 
 on any MS. from a stranger. Paucy the intense 
 annoyance (to say nothing of more serious con- 
 siderations) of publishing, month after month, 
 a series about which the conviction gradually 
 forces itself on you that you have made a total 
 blunder. 
 
 " I am sorry that the author has no more 
 written, but if he cares much about a speedy 
 appearance, I have so high an opinion of this 
 first tale that I will waive my objections, 
 and publish it without seeing more, — not, of 
 course, committing myself to go on with the 
 other tales of the series unless I approved of 
 them. I am very sanguine that I will approve, 
 as, in addition to the other merits of 'Amos, ' I 
 agree with you that there is great freshness of 
 style. If you think also that it would stimu- 
 late the author to go on with the other tales 
 with more spirit, I will publish ' Amos ' at 
 once. He could divide into two parts. I am 
 blocked up for December, but I could start him 
 in January.
 
 520 
 
 Sensitiveness of the Author. [Richmond, 
 
 Letter from 
 Johu Black- 
 wood to 
 G. H. Lewes, 
 18th Nov. 
 1856, 
 
 Letter from 
 G. H. Lewes, 
 to Johu 
 Blackwood, 
 Saturday, 
 Nov. 1856. 
 
 " I am glad to hear that your friend is, as I 
 supposed, a clergyman. Such a subject is best 
 in clerical hands, and some of the pleasantest 
 and least prejudiced correspondents I have ever 
 had are English clergymen. 
 
 " I have not read ' Amos Barton ' a second 
 time, but the impression on my mind of the 
 whole character, incidents, and feeling of the 
 story is very distinct, which is an excellent 
 sign. " 
 
 " Your letter has greatly restored the shaken 
 confidence of my friend, who is unusually sen- 
 sitive, and, unlike most writers, is more anx- 
 ious about excellence than about appearing in 
 print, — as his waiting so long before taking 
 the venture proves. He is consequently afraid 
 of failure, though not afraid of obscurity ; and 
 by failure he would understand that which I 
 suspect most writers would be apt to consider 
 as success, — so high is his ambition. 
 
 " I tell you this that you may understand the 
 sort of shy, shrinking, ambitious nature you 
 have to deal with. I tried to persuade him 
 that you really did appreciate his story, but 
 were only hesitating about committing yourself 
 to a series ; and your last letter has proved me 
 to have been right, — although, as he never 
 contemplated binding you to the publication of 
 any portion of the series to which you might 
 object, he could not at first see your posit io?i 
 in its true light. 
 
 " All is, however, clear now. He will \j.? 
 gratified if you publish ' Amos Barton' in Jan 
 uary, as it will give him ample time to ^et tha 
 second story ready, so as to appear when ' Bar
 
 1856.] "Amos Barton" FuUished. 321 
 
 ton ' is finished, should yon wish it. He is Letter from 
 anxious, however, that you should publish the to Joiar'"^' 
 general title of ' Scenes of Clerical Life ; ' and Saturday", ' 
 I think you may do this with perfect safety, ^°^' ^^^' 
 since it is quite clear that the writer of ' Amos 
 Barton ' is capable of writing at least one more 
 story suitable to ' Maga, ' and two would suffice 
 to justify the general title. 
 
 " Let me not forget to add that when I 
 referred to 'my clerical friend,' I meant to 
 designate the writer of the clerical stories, — 
 not that he was a clericus. I am not at liberty 
 to remove the veil of anonymity, even as regards 
 social position. Be pleased, therefore, to keep 
 the whole secret, and not even mention my 
 negotiation, or in any way lead guessers (should 
 any one trouble himself with such a guess, — 
 not very likely) to jump from me to my friend." 
 
 On Christmas Day, 1856, " Mr. Gilfil's Love 
 Story " was begun, and during December and 
 January the following are mentioned among the 
 books read : " The Ajax of Sophocles, " Miss 
 Martineau's "History of the Peace," Macau- 
 lay's " History " finished, Carlyle's " French 
 Revolution," Burke's "' Reflections on the 
 French Revolution," and " Mansfield Park. " 
 
 " Along with this I send a copy of the Jan- Letter from 
 nary number of the Magazine, in which you wood to The' 
 will find the first part of ' Amos Barton. ' It " Amos'sar- 
 gives me very great pleasure to begin the num- Drc'.'ilsa 
 ber with ' Amos, ' and I put him in that position 
 because his merits well entitle him to it, and 
 also because it is a vital point to attract public 
 
 VOL. I. — 21
 
 322 Major Blackwood'' s Judgment. [Richmond, 
 
 Letter from 
 John Black- 
 wood to the 
 author of 
 "Amos Bar- 
 ton," 2'Jth 
 Dec. 1856. 
 
 attention to the first part of a series, to which 
 end being the first article of the first number of 
 the year may contribute. 
 
 " I have already expressed to our friend Mr. 
 Lewes the very high opinion I entertain of 
 'Amos, ' and the expectations I have formed of 
 the series, should his successors prove equal to 
 him, which I fully anticipate. 
 
 " It is a long time since I have read anything 
 so fresh, so humorous, and so touching. The 
 style is capital, conveying so much in so few 
 words. 
 
 " Those who have seen the tale here are chiefly 
 members of my own family, and they are all 
 enthusiastic in praise. 
 
 " You may recollect that I expressed a fear 
 that in the affecting and highly wrought scene 
 of poor Milly's death, the attempt to individu- 
 alise the children by reiterating their names 
 weakened the effect, as the reader had not been 
 prepared to care for them individually, but 
 simply as a group, — the children of Milly and 
 the sorrow-stricken curate. My brother says, 
 ' No. Do not advise the author to touch any- 
 thing so exquisite. ' Of course you are the best 
 judge. 
 
 " I now send proof of the conclusion of 
 'Amos,' in acknowledgment of which, and of 
 the first part, I have the pleasure of enclosing 
 a cheque for £52 10s., — fifty guineas. 
 
 " If the series goes on as I anticipate, there 
 is every prospect that a republication as a sepa- 
 rate book at some time or other will be advis- 
 able. We would look upon such republication 
 as a joint property, and would either give you a
 
 1857.] The Author of "Amos Barton." 323 
 
 sum for your interest in it, or publish on the Letter from 
 terms of one half of the clear profits, to be wwdtoThe" 
 divided between author and publisher, as might ?"lmo8°BaB 
 be most agreeable to you. Dec.'isse! 
 
 " I shall be very glad to hear from you, either 
 direct or through Mr. Lewes ; and any intelli- 
 gence that the successors of ' Amos ' are taking 
 form and substance will be very acceptable. 
 
 " I shall let you know what the other contri- 
 butors and the public think of ' Amos ' as far 
 as I can gather a verdict, but in the meantime 
 I may congratulate you on having achieved a 
 preliminary success at all events. " 
 Your letter has proved to me that the generous Letter from 
 Editor and publisher, — generous both in word and of''"'AmoI 
 in deed, — who makes the author's path smooth fo^hn^sLk. 
 and easy, is something more than a pleasant tradi- fgg^^' "^^ 
 tion. I am very sensitive to the merits of cheques 
 for fifty guineas, but I am still more sensitive to 
 that cordial appreciation which is a guarantee to 
 me that my work was worth doing for its own 
 sake. 
 
 If the " Scenes of Clerical Life " should be repub- 
 lished, I have no doubt we shall find it easy to 
 arrange the terms. In the meantime the most 
 pressing business is to make them worth repub- 
 lishing. 
 
 I think the particularisation of the children in 
 the deathbed scene has an important effect on the 
 imagination. But I have removed all names from 
 the " conclusion " except those of Patty and Dickey, 
 in whom, I hope, the reader has a personal in- 
 terest. 
 
 I hope to send you the second story by the begin- 
 ning of February. It will lie, for the most part,
 
 324 
 
 Albert Smith's Opinion. [richmond, 
 
 the author 
 of " Amos 
 Barton '' to 
 John Black- 
 wood, Jan. 
 1857. 
 
 Journal, 
 
 1857. 
 
 Letter from ainong quite different scenes and persons from the 
 last, — opening in Shepperton once more, but pres- 
 ently moving away to a distant spot and new 
 people, whom. I hope, you will not like less than 
 " Amos " and his friends. But if any one of the 
 succeeding stories should seem to you unsuitable 
 to the pages of " Maga, " it can be reserved for pub- 
 lication in the future volume, without creating 
 any difficulty. 
 
 Thank you very warmly for the hearty accep- 
 tance you have given to my first story. 
 
 The first part of " Amos Barton " appeared in the 
 January number of " Blackwood. " Before the ap- 
 pearance of the "Magazine," on sending me the 
 proof, Mr. John Blackwood already expressed him- 
 self with much greater warmth of admiration ; 
 and when the first part had appeared, he sent me 
 a charming letter with a cheque for fifty guineas, 
 and a proposal about republication of the series. 
 When the story was concluded, he wrote me word 
 how Albert Smith had sent him a letter saying 
 he had never read anything that affected him 
 more than Milly's death, and, added Blackwood, 
 " The men at the club seem to have mingled their 
 tears and their tumblers together. It will be curi- 
 ous if you should be a member and be hearing your 
 own praises. " There was clearly no suspicion that 
 I was a woman. It is interesting as an indication 
 of the value there is in such conjectural criticism 
 generally, to remember that when G. read the first 
 part of " Amos " to a party at Helps 's, they were 
 all sure I was a clergyman, — a Cambridge man. 
 Blackwood seemed curious about the author, and 
 when I signed my letter "George Eliot," hunted 
 up some old letters from Eliot Warburton's brother
 
 1837.] Letter to Blackwood. 325 
 
 to compare the handwritings, though, he said, 
 " ' Amos ' seems to me not in the least like what 
 that good artilleryman would write. " 
 
 Thank you for fulfilling your promise to let me Letter to 
 
 . -^ ,. . P ,, ■!• • A JohnBlacfc 
 
 know something or the criticisms passed on my wood, 4th 
 story. I have a very moderate respect for " opin- 
 ions of the press," but the private opinions of 
 intelligent people may be valuable to me. 
 
 In reference to artistic presentation, much ad- 
 verse opinion will, of course, arise from a dislike 
 to the order of art rather than from a critical esti- 
 mate of the execution. Any one who detests the 
 Dutch school in general will hardly appreciate 
 fairly the merits of a particular Dutch painting. 
 And against this sort of condemnation one must 
 steel one's self as one best can. But objections 
 which point out to me any vice of manner, or any 
 failure in producing an intended effect, will be 
 really profitable. For example, I suppose my 
 scientific illustrations must be a fault, since they 
 seem to have obtruded themselves disagreeably on 
 one of my readers. But if it be a sin to be at once 
 a man of science and a writer of fiction, I can 
 declare my perfect innocence on that head, my 
 scientific knowledge being as superficial as that of 
 the most " practised writers. " I hope to send you 
 a second story in a few days, but I am rather be- 
 hindhand this time, having been prevented from 
 setting to work for some weeks by other business. 
 
 Whatever may be the success of my stories, I 
 shall be resolute in preserving my incognito, — 
 having observed that a nom de plume secures all 
 the advantages without the disagreeables of repu- 
 tation. Perhaps, therefore, it will be well to give 
 you my prospective name, as a tub to throw to the
 
 326 Pseudonym Assumed. [bichmond. 
 
 whale in case of curious inquiries ; and accordingly 
 I subscribe myself, best and most sympathising of 
 Editors, yours very truly, George Eliot. 
 
 I may mention here that my wife told me 
 the reason she fixed on this name was that 
 George was Mr. Lewes 's Christian name, and 
 Eliot was a good mouth-filling, easily pro- 
 nounced word. 
 Letter to First let me thank you very heartily for your letter 
 w°ood, ist'ii' of the 10th. Except your own very cordial appre- 
 Feb. 1S57. ciation which is so much beyond a mere otiicial 
 acceptance, that little fact about Albert Smith has 
 gratified me more than anything else in connection 
 with the effect of "Amos." If you should happen 
 to hear an opinion from Thackeray, good or bad, I 
 should like to know it. 
 
 You will see that I have availed myself of your 
 suggestions on points of language. I quite recog- 
 nise the justice of your criticisms on the French 
 phrases. They are not in keeping with my story. 
 
 But I am unable to alter anything in relation to 
 the delineation or development of character, as my 
 stories always grow out of my psychological con- 
 ception of the dramatis personce. For example, 
 the behaviour of Caterina in the gallery is essen- 
 tial to my conception of her nature, and to the 
 development of that nature in the plot. My artis- 
 tic bent is directed not at all to the presentation 
 of eminently irreproachable characters, but to the 
 presentation of mixed human beings in such a way 
 as to call forth tolerant judgment, pity, and sym- 
 pathy. And I cannot stir a step aside from what 
 \feel to be true in character. If anything strikes 
 you as untrue to human nature in my delinea- 
 tions, I shall be very glad if you will point it out
 
 1857.] Admiration of Goldsmith. 327 
 
 to me, that I may reconsider the matter. But, alas ! 
 
 inconsistencies and weaknesses are not untrue. I 
 
 hope that your doubts about the plot will be removed 
 
 by the further development of the story. Meanwhile, 
 
 warmest thanks for your encouraging letters. 
 
 I am the more inclined to think that I shall Letter to 
 
 admire your book, because you are suspected of Hemien7 
 
 having given undue preponderance to the Christian isstT'^''' 
 
 argument ; for I have a growing conviction that we 
 
 may measure true moral and intellectual culture 
 
 by the comprehension and veneration given to all 
 
 forms of thought and feeling which have influenced 
 
 large masses of mankind, — and of all intolerance 
 
 the intolerance calling itself philosophical is the 
 
 most odious to me. 
 
 Thank you for the copy of " Maga " and for the Letter to 
 1 r\ 1 , John Black- 
 
 accompanying cheque. One has not many corre- wood, ist 
 
 spondents whose handwriting has such agreeable ^*^'=^'^^'^' 
 associations as yours. 
 
 I was particularly pleased with that extract you 
 were so good as to send me from Mr. Swayne's 
 letter. Dear old " Goldie " is one of my earliest 
 and warmest admirations, and I don't desire a 
 better fate than to lie side by side with him in 
 people's memories. ' 
 
 The Eev. Mr. Swayne had written to Black- 
 wood saying that " Amos, " in its charming 
 tenderness, reminded him of the " Vicar of 
 Wakefield. " Blackwood had written much de- 
 lighted with the two first parts of " Mr. Gilfil's 
 Love Story, " which were sent to him together. 
 I began, oddly enough you will perhaps think, by Letter to 
 reading through the " Answers of Infidelity, " ^ Hemiefr 
 
 2cl March, 
 1 Baillie Prize Essay on Christianity and Infifielity : an Exposi- ^^'^• 
 tion of the Arguments on both Sides. By Miss Sara Hennell.
 
 328 
 
 Miss Hennell's Essay. [Richmond, 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Hennell, 
 2d March, 
 1857. 
 
 those being the most interesting parts of the book 
 to me. Some of your own passages I think very 
 admirable, — some of them made me cry, which 
 is always a sign of the highest pleasure writing 
 can give me. But in many of the extracts, I 
 think, Infidelity cuts a very poor figure. Some are 
 feeble, some lad, and terribly discrepant in the 
 tone of their thought and feeling from the passages 
 which come fresh from your own mind. The dis- 
 advantage arising from the perpetual shifting of 
 the point of view is a disadvantage, I suppose, 
 inseparable from the plan, which I cannot admire 
 or feel to be effective, though I can imagine it may 
 be a serviceable form of presentation to some in- 
 quirers. The execution I do admire. I think it 
 shows very high and rare qualities of mind, — a 
 self-discipline and largeness of thought, which are 
 the highest result of culture. The " Objections 
 of Christianity, " which I have also read, are excel- 
 lently put, and have an immense advantage over 
 the " Answers of Infidelity " in their greater homo- 
 geneity. The first part I have only begun and 
 glanced through, and at present have no other 
 observation to make than that I think you might 
 have brought a little more artillery to bear on 
 Christian morality. But nothing is easier than to 
 find fault, — nothing so difficult as to do some 
 real work. 
 
 I think I wrote very brusquely and disagreeably 
 to you the other day, but the impertinence was 
 1^7^'"'"^'*' altogether in the form and not at all in the feel- 
 ing. I always have uncomfortable sensations after 
 writing objections and criticisms when they relate 
 to things I substantially admire. It is inflicting 
 a hurt on my own veneration. 
 
 Letter to 
 
 Miss Sara 
 Henuell,
 
 1857.] Caierina's Character. 329 
 
 I showed the passage on the eye, p. 157, to Letterto 
 Herbert Spencer, and he agrees with us that you Henneii, 
 have not stated your idea so as to render it a logi- is^t. ^ 
 cal argument against design. You appear to imply 
 that development and gradation in organs and 
 functions are opposed to that conception, which 
 they are not. I suppose you are aware that we all 
 three hold the conception of creative design to be 
 untenable. We only think you have not made out 
 a good case against it. 
 
 Thank you for sending me some news of Harriet 
 Martineau. I have often said lately " I wonder 
 how she is. " 
 
 I am glad you retain a doubt in favour of the Letterto 
 dagger, and wish i could convert you to entire wood, i4th 
 
 TPT 1 i-r-ii March, 1857 
 
 approval, tor 1 am much more satisned when your 
 feeling is thoroughly with me. But it would be 
 the death of my story to substitute a dream for the 
 real scene. Dreams usually play an important 
 part in fiction, but rarely, I think, in actual life. 
 
 So many of us have reason to know that criminal 
 impulses may be felt by a nature which is never- 
 theless guarded by its entire constitution from the 
 commission of crime, that I can't help hoping that 
 my Caterina will not forfeit the sympathy of all 
 my readers. 
 
 The answer you propose to give to curious in- 
 quirers is the best possible. For several reasons I 
 am very anxious to retain my incognito for some 
 time to come, and to an author not already famous, 
 anonymity is the highest prestige. Besides, if 
 George Eliot turns out a dull dog and an ineffective 
 writer, — a mere flash in the pan, — I, for one, am 
 determined to cut him on the first intimation of 
 that disagreeable fact.
 
 330 Descri^ption of St. Mary's, [scilly isles. 
 
 The fates have willed that this shall be a very 
 melancholy story, and I am longing to be a little 
 merrier again. 
 
 On the 16th March, Mr. Lewes and George 
 Eliot started for Plvmouth, Penzance, and the 
 Scilly Isles, and w^e have the following recol- 
 lections of their stay there : — 
 EecoUec- I had ncvcr before seen a granite coast, and on the 
 Isles' southern side of the island of St. Mary's one sees 
 
 1S67. such a coast in its most striking and characteristic 
 
 forms. Eectangular crevices, the edges of which 
 have been rounded by weather, give many of the 
 granite masses a resemblance to bales of wool or 
 cotton heaped on each other ; another characteristic 
 form is the mushroom-shaped mass, often lying 
 poised on the summits of more cubical boulders or 
 fragments ; another is the immense flat platform 
 stretching out like a pier into the sea ; another the 
 oval basins formed by the action of the rain-water 
 on the summits of the rocks and boulders. The 
 colouring of the rocks was very various and beauti- 
 ful : sometimes a delicate greyish-green from the 
 shaggy byssus which clothes it, chiefly high up 
 from the water ; then a light warm brown ; then 
 black ; occasionally of a rich yellow ; and here and 
 there purplish. Below the rocks, on the coast, are 
 almost everywhere heaps of white boulders, some- 
 times remarkably perfect ovals, and looking like 
 huge eggs of some monstrous bird. Hardly any 
 weed was to be seen on the granite, except here 
 and there in a rock -pool, green with young ulva ; 
 and no barnacles incrust the rock, no black mus- 
 sels, scarcely any limpets. The waves that beat 
 on this coast are clear as crystal, and we used to 
 delight in watching them rear themselves like the
 
 1857.] Beauties of the Coast. 331 
 
 horses of a mighty sea-god as they approached the Recoiiec- 
 rocks on which they were broken into eddies of isies,' " ^ 
 milky foam. Along a great part of this southern ^7!^'^*^ 
 coast there stretch heathy or furzy downs, over 
 which I used to enjoy rambling immensely, — 
 there is a sense of freedom in those unenclosed 
 grounds that one never has in a railed park, how- 
 ever extensive. Then, on the north side of the 
 island, above Sandy Bar, what a view we used 
 to get of the opposite islands and reefs, with their 
 delicious violet and yellow tints, — the tall ship 
 or two anchored in the Sound, changing their 
 aspect like living things, and when the wind was 
 at all high the white foam prancing round the reefs 
 and rising in fountain-like curves above the screen 
 of rocks ! 
 
 Many a wet and dirty walk we had along the 
 lanes, for the weather was often wet and almost 
 always blustering. Now and then, however, we 
 had a clear sky and a calm sea, and on such days it 
 was delicious to look up after the larks that were 
 soaring above us, or to look out on the island- and 
 reef-studded sea. I never enjoyed the lark before 
 as I enjoyed it at Scilly, — never felt the full 
 beauty of Shelley's poem on it before. A spot we 
 became very fond of toward the close of our stay 
 was Carne Lea, where, between two fine jutting 
 piles of granite, there was a soft down, gay with 
 the pretty pink flowers of the thrift, which, in this 
 island, carpets the ground like greensward. Here 
 we used to sit and lie in the bright afternoons, 
 watching the silver sunlight on the waves, — bright 
 silver, not golden, — it is the morning and evening 
 sunlight that is golden. A week or two after our 
 arrival we made the acquaintance of Mr. Moyle,
 
 332 Social Life at St. Mary's. [scilly isles, 
 
 Recouec- the suTgeoii, wlio became a delightful friend to us, 
 iS ^""^ always ready to help with the contents of his sur- 
 March-May, ^^^^ ^^ anything else at his command. We liked 
 to have him come and smoke a cigar in the even- 
 ing, and look in now and then for a little lesson in 
 microscopy. The little indications of the social 
 life at Scilly that we were able to pick up were 
 very amusing. I was repeatedly told, in order to 
 make me aware who Mr. Hall was, that he married 
 a Miss Lemon. The people at St. Mary's imagine 
 that the lawyers and doctors at Penzance are a sort 
 of European characters that every one knows. We 
 heard a great deal about Mr. Quill, an Irishman, 
 the Controller of the Customs ; and one day, when 
 we were making a call on one of the residents, our 
 host said two or three times at intervals, " I wish 
 you knew Quill ! " At last, on our farewell call, 
 we saw the distinguished Quill, with his hair 
 plaistered down, his charming smile, and his 
 trousers with a broad stripe down each leg. Our 
 host amused us by his contempt for curs : " Oh, I 
 would n't have a cur, — there 's nothing to look at 
 in a cur ! " ^ 
 Letter to The Smallest details written in the hastiest way 
 
 ^"aS' that will enable me to imagine you as you are, are 
 *^^* just what I want, — indeed, all I care about in 
 
 correspondence. We are more and more in love 
 with these little islands. There is not a tree to be 
 seen, but there are grand granite hills on the coast 
 such as I never saw before, and furze-covered hills 
 with larks soaring and singing above them, and 
 zoolosfical wonders on the shore to fill our bottles 
 and our souls at once. For some time I have been 
 unusually weak and knock -upable. Our landlady is 
 
 1 "Mill on the Floss " chap. ijj. , Book IV, Bob Jakin.
 
 1857.] Careless Cooking. 333 
 
 an excellent woman, but like almost all peculiarly Letter to 
 domestic women, has not more than rudimentary 5th Aprfi^' 
 ideas of cooking; and in an island where you can ^^^' 
 get nothing but beef, except by sending to Pen- 
 zance, that supreme science has its maximum 
 value. She seems to think eating a purely arbi- 
 trary procedure, — an abnormal function of mad 
 people who come to Scilly ; and if we ask her what 
 the people live on here, is quite at a loss to tell us, 
 apparently thinking the question relates to the 
 abstruser portion of natural history. But I insist, 
 and give her a culinary lecture every morning, and 
 we do in the end get fed. Altogether our life here 
 is so far better than the golden age, that we work 
 as well as play. That is the happy side of things. 
 But there is a very sad one to me which I shall 
 not dwell upon, — only tell you of. More than a 
 week ago I received the news that poor Chrissey 
 had lost one of her pretty little girls of fever; that 
 the other little one — they were the only two she 
 had at home with her — was also dangerously ill, 
 and Chrissey herself and her servant apparently 
 attacked by typhus too. The thought of her in 
 this state is a perpetual shadow to me in the 
 sunshine. 
 
 I shudder at entering on such great subjects (as Letter to 
 " Design ") in letters ; — my idle brain wants lash- Henneu* 
 ing to work like a negro, and will do nothing jgl^^'''^ 
 under a slighter stimulus. We are enjoying a 
 retrogression to old-fashioned reading. I rush on 
 the slightest pretext to Sophocles, and am as 
 excited about blind old OEdipus as any young lady 
 can be about the latest hero with magnificent eyes. 
 But there is one new book we have been enjoying, 
 ^nd so, I hope, have you, — the " Life of Charlotte
 
 334 
 
 Anxiety for Mrs, Clarke, [scilly isles, 
 
 Letter to Bionte. " Deeply affecting throughout: in the 
 H^^iifu? early part romantic, poetic as one of her own 
 iGth April, jjQygis . JQ i^he later years tragic, — especially to 
 those who know what sickness is. Mrs. Gaskell 
 has done her work admirably, both in the industry 
 and care with which she has gathered and selected 
 her material, and in the feeling with which she 
 has presented it. There is one exception, how- 
 ever, which I regret very much. She sets down 
 Branwell's conduct entirely to remorse. Remorse 
 may make sad work with a man ; but it will not 
 make such a life as Branwell's was in the last 
 three or four years, unless the germs of vice had 
 sprouted and shot up long before, as it seems clear 
 they had in him. What a tragedy ! — that picture 
 of the old father and the three sisters trembling, 
 day and night, in terror at the possible deeds of 
 their drunken, brutal son and brother! That is 
 the part of the life which affects me most. 
 Letter to I havc been looking anxiously for some further 
 
 Evans, 16th tidiugs of Chrisscy since your last letter, which 
 Apru, i8o7. ^^1^ ^g ^|^^|. gj^g ^^^ Kate were better, though not 
 
 out of danger. I try to hope that no news is good 
 news, but if you do not think it troublesome to 
 write, I shall be thankful to have that hope changed 
 into certainty. 
 
 Meanwhile, to save multiplying letters, — which 
 I know you are not fond of, — I mention now what 
 will take no harm from being mentioned rather 
 prematurely. I should like Chrissey to have £15 
 of my next half-year's income, due at the begin- 
 ning of June, to spend in taking a change of air as 
 soon as she is able to do so ; and perhaps if it were 
 desirable for her to leave before the -money has been 
 paid in, you would be so kind as to advance it for
 
 1857.] "Mr. GilfiV Finished. 335 
 
 a few weeks. I am writing, of course, in iguo- Letter to 
 ranee of her actual state; but I should think it Ev^sficth 
 must be good for her, as soon as she is able to ^p^^'^^^^- 
 move, to leave that fever-infected place for a time, 
 and I know the money must have gone very fast in 
 recent expenses. I only suggest the change of air 
 as the thing that I should think best for Chrissey ; 
 but in any case I should like her to have the money 
 to do what she pleases with it. If she is well 
 enough, please to give her the enclosed note, in 
 which I have suggested to her what I have just 
 written to you. 
 
 I am much obliged to you for your last letter, 
 and shall be still more so if you will write me 
 word of Chrissey 's present condition. 
 
 Thank you for the pleasant notes of impressions Letter to 
 
 , . . ,1 1 -r John Black 
 
 concerning my story sent to me through Lewes. wood, ut 
 
 I will pay attention to your caution about the 
 danger of huddling up my stories. Conclusions 
 are the weak point of most authors, but some of 
 the fault lies in the very nature of a conclusion 
 which is at best a negation. 
 
 There must be something wrong in the winding 
 up of " Amos, " for I have heard of two persons 
 who are disappointed with the conclusion. But 
 the story never presented itself to me as possible 
 to be protracted after Milly's death. The drama 
 ends there. 
 
 I am thinking of writing a short epilogue to 
 " Mr. Gilfil's Love-Story," and I will send it you 
 with the proof from Jersey, where, on a strict 
 promise that I am not to be dissected, I shall 
 shortly join our friend Lewes. 
 
 The third story will be very different from either 
 of the preceding, which will perhaps be an advau- 
 
 May, 1857.
 
 336 Jersey Scenery. [jersey, 
 
 tage, as poor Tina's sad tale was necessarily rather 
 monotonous in its effects. 
 
 The Epilogue to " Mr. Gilfil " was written 
 sitting on the Fortification Hill, Scilly Isles, 
 one sunshiny morning. 
 Jersey, Rec- It was a bcautiful moment (12th May) when we 
 itOT. '°"^' came to our lodgings at Gorey. The orchards were 
 all in blossom, — and this is an island of orchards. 
 They cover the slopes ; tliey stretch before you in 
 shady, grassy, indefinite extent through every other 
 gateway by the roadside; they flourish in some 
 spots almost close to the sea. What a contrast to 
 the Scilly Isles ! There you stand on the hills like 
 a sparrow on the housetop ; here you are like the 
 same sparrow when he is hopping about on the 
 branches with green above him, green below, and 
 green all round. Gorey stands in Granville Bay, 
 where the grand old castle of Mont Orgueil stands 
 and keeps guard on a fine rocky promontory over- 
 looking the little harbour dotted with fishing craft. 
 There is a charming piece of common, or down, 
 where you can have the quietest, easiest walking, 
 with a carpet of minute wild flowers that are not 
 hindered from flourishing by the sandy rain of the 
 coast. I delighted extremely in the brownish- 
 green softness of this undulating common, here 
 and there varied with a patch of bright green fern, 
 — all the prettier for two little homesteads set 
 down upon it, with their garden-fence and shelter- 
 ing trees. It was pretty in all lights, but espe- 
 cially the evening light, to look round at the castle 
 and harbour, the village and the scattered dwell- 
 ings peeping out from among trees on the hill. 
 The castle is built of stone which has a beautiful 
 pinkish-grey tint, and the bright green ivy hangg
 
 1857.] Inland Walks. 337 
 
 oblique curtains on its turreted walls, making it Jersey, Reo 
 look like a natural continuation or outgrowth of isItV"*' 
 the rocky and grassy height on which it stands. 
 Then the eye wanders on to the right and takes in 
 the church standing halfway down the hill, which 
 is clothed with a plantation, and shelters the little 
 village with its cloud of blue smoke : still to the 
 right and the village breaks off, leaving nothing 
 but meadows in front of the slope that shuts out 
 the setting sun, and only lets you see a hint of the 
 golden glory that is reflected in the pink eastern 
 clouds. 
 
 The first lovely walk we found inland was the 
 Queen's Fern Valley, where a broad strip of meadow 
 and pasture lies between two high slopes covered 
 with woods and ferny wilderness. When we first 
 saw this valley, it was in the loveliest springtime : 
 the woods were a delicious mixture of red and 
 tender green and purple. We have watched it 
 losing that spring beauty and passing into the 
 green and flowery luxuriance of June, and now into 
 the more monotonous summer tint of July. 
 
 When the blossoms fell away from the orchards, 
 my next delight was to look at the grasses mingled 
 with the red sorrel ; then came the white umbel- 
 liferous plants, making a border or inner frame for 
 them along the hedgerows and streams. Another 
 pretty thing here is the luxuriance of the yellow 
 iris that covers large pieces of moist ground with 
 its broad blades. Everywhere there are tethered 
 cows, looking at you with meek faces, — mild- 
 eyed, sleek, fawn-coloured creatures, with delicate 
 downy udders. 
 
 Another favourite walk of ours was round by 
 Mont Orgueil along the coast. Here we had the 
 
 VOL. I. — 22
 
 338 Boohs Bead. [jersey, 
 
 Jersey, Rec- green or rocky slope on one side of us, and on the 
 o^^ctioM, ^^^^^^ ^^^ ^^j^ gg^ stretching to the coast of France, 
 
 visible on all but the murkiest days. But the 
 murky days were not many during our stay, and 
 our evening walks round the coast usually showed 
 us a peaceful, scarcely rippled sea, plashing gently 
 on the purple pebbles of the little scalloped bays. 
 There were two such bays within the boundary of 
 ' our sea-side walk in that direction, and one of them 
 was a perpetual wonder to us, in the luxuriant ver- 
 dure of meadows and orchards and forest-trees that 
 sloped down to the very shore. No distressed look 
 about the trees, as if they were ever driven harshly 
 back by the winter winds : it was like an inland 
 slope suddenly carried to the coast. 
 
 As for the inland walks, they are inexhaustible. 
 The island is one labyrinth of delicious roads and 
 lanes, leading you by the most charming nooks of 
 houses with shady grounds and shrubberies, — 
 deliohtful farm homesteads, — and trim villas. 
 
 It was a sweet, peaceful life we led here. Good 
 creatures, the Amys, our host and hostess, with 
 their nice boy and girl, and the little white kid, 
 — the family pet. No disagreeable sounds to be 
 heard in the house, no unpleasant qualities to hin- 
 der one from feeling perfect love to these simple 
 people. We have had long rambles and long read- 
 ings. But our choice of literature has been rather 
 circumscribed in this out-of-the-way place. The 
 " Life of George Stephenson " has been a real profit 
 and pleasure. I have read Draper's " Physiology " 
 aloud for grave evening hours, and such books as 
 Currer Bell's "Professor," Mile. d'Auny's " Ma- 
 riace en Province," and Miss Ferrier's " Marriage," 
 for lighter food. The last, however, we found
 
 1857.] Life in Jersey. 339 
 
 ourselves unable to finish, notwithstanding Miss Jersey, Rec- 
 i'enier's high reputation, I have been getting a isstV-"^' 
 smattering of botany from Miss Catlow and from 
 Dr. Thomson's little book on wild tlowers, which 
 have created at least a longing for something more 
 complete on the subject. 
 
 Such hedgerows in this island ! Such orchards Letter to 
 white against the green slopes and shady walks, Hemieu* 
 by the woodside with distracting wdld flowers, f^^^' 
 We enjoy the greenery and variety of this bushy 
 island all the better for our stay on bare Scilly, 
 which we had gone to and fro upon till we knew 
 it by heart. Our little lodgings are very snug, — 
 only 13s. a week, — a nice little sitting-room, with 
 a work-room adjoining for Mr. Lewes, who is at 
 this moment in all the bliss of having discovered 
 a parasitic worm in a cuttlefish. We dine at five, 
 and our afternoons are almost exhausted in ram- 
 bling. T hope to get up my strength in this deli- 
 cious quiet, and have fewer interruptions to work 
 from headache than I have been having since 
 Christmas. I wonder if I should have had the hap- 
 piness of seeing Cara if I had been at Eichmond 
 now. I woYild rather see her than any one else in 
 the world — except poor Chrissey. Tell me when 
 you have read the life of Currer Bell. Some 
 people think its revelations in bad taste, — making 
 money out of the dead, wounding the feelings of 
 the living, &c. What book is there that some 
 people or other will not find abominable ? We 
 thought it admirable, cried over it, and felt the 
 better for it. We read Cromwell's letters again at 
 Scilly with great delight. 
 
 In May Mr. Lewes writes to Mr. John 
 Blackwood : " We were both amused with the
 
 1857. 
 
 340 Opinions of ' Mr. GilfiW [jersey, 
 
 divination of the Manx seer and his friend 
 Ligcjers." This is the first mention of the 
 individual, whose real name was Liggins of 
 Nuneaton, who afterwards became notorious for 
 laying claim to the authorship of the "Scenes 
 of Clerical Life" and "Adam Bede." 
 
 " Janet's Eepentance " had been begun on the 
 18th April, and the first three parts were fin- 
 ished in Jersey. In reference to the " Scenes of 
 Clerical Life " there are the following entries in 
 the Journal : — 
 Journal, May 2. — Reccived letter from Blackwood express- 
 ing his approbation of Part IX. of " Mr. Gilfil's 
 Love-Story." He writes very pleasantly, says the 
 series is attributed by many to Bulwer, and that 
 Thackeray thinks highly of it. This was a pleas- 
 ant fillip to me, who am just now ready to be 
 dispirited on the slightest pretext. 
 
 May 21. — The other day we had a pleasant 
 letter from Herbert Spencer, saying that he had 
 heard " Mr. Gilfil's Love-Story " discussed by Baynes 
 and Dallas, as well as previously by Pigott, all 
 expressing warm approval and curiosity as to the 
 author. 
 
 May 26. — Eeceived a pleasant letter from Black- 
 wood, enclosing one from Archer Gurney to the 
 author of "Mr. Gilfil's Love-Story." 
 
 I subjoin this letter, as it is the first she 
 received in her character of a creative author, 
 and it still bears a pencil memorandum in her 
 writing: "This letter he brought up to me at 
 Jersey after reading it, saying with intense joy, 
 * Her fame is beginning,' "
 
 1857.] Rev. Archer Gurney on " The Seems." 341 
 
 " BUCKINGHAM (bucks), Letter from 
 Thursday, 14th Man, 1857. Rev. Archer 
 
 Gurney to 
 
 " Sir, — Will you consider it impertinent in a " Mrl^Gim °s 
 brother author and old reviewer to address a few ntlf "Mly7'' 
 lines of earnest sympathy and admiration to you, ^^^' 
 excited by the purity of your style, originality 
 of your thoughts, and absence of all vulgar seek- 
 ing for efi'ect in those ' Scenes of Clerical Life ' 
 now appearing in ' Blackwood ' ? If I mistake 
 not much, your muse of invention is no hack- 
 neyed one, and your style is too peculiar to allow 
 of your being confounded with any of the already 
 well-known writers of the day. Your great and 
 characteristic charm is, to my mind, Nature. 
 You frequently, indeed, express what I may call 
 brilliant ideas, but they always seem to come 
 unsought for, never, as hi Lytton, for instance, 
 to be elaborated and placed in the most advan- 
 tageous light. I allude to such brief aphoristic 
 sayings as 'Animals are such agreeable friends, 
 they ask no questions, they pass no criticisms,* 
 — ' All with that brisk and cheerful air which 
 a sermon is often observed to produce when it 
 is quite finished.' By the by, I am one of the 
 cloth, and might take exception to certain hints, 
 perhaps, but these are dubious. What I see 
 plainly I admire honestly, and trust that more 
 good remains behind. Will you always remain 
 equally natural ? That is the doubt. Will the 
 fear of the critic, or the public, or the literary 
 world, which spoils almost every one, never 
 master you ? Will you always write to please 
 yourself, and preserve tlie true independence 
 which seems to mark a real supremacy of intel- 
 lect ? But these questions are, I fear, imper-
 
 342 Lord Stanley on " The Scenes." [jersey, 
 
 tiuent. I will conclude. Pardon this word of 
 greeting from one whom you may never see or 
 know, and believe me, your earnest admirer, 
 
 " Akcher Gurney. 
 
 « The Author of 
 'Mr. Gilfil's Love-Story.'" 
 
 Journal, Junc. — Blackwood writes from London that he 
 
 1857 
 
 hears nothing but approval of " Mr. Gilfil's Love- 
 Story." Lord Stanley, among other people, had 
 spoken to him about the " Clerical Scenes" at Bul- 
 wer's, and was astonished to find Blackwood in the 
 dark as to the author. 
 Letter to I scud you by the same post with this the first 
 
 wood, 2^ " part of my third story, which I hope will not dis- 
 june, 1857. ^p^^^-j^^ ^^^ rj^^iQ part is, I think, rather longer 
 
 than my parts have usually been, but it would have 
 been injurious to the effect of the story to pause 
 earlier. 
 
 Pleasant letters like yours are the best possible 
 stimulus to an author's powers, and if I don't write 
 better and better, the fault will certainly not lie in 
 my editor, who seems to have been created in pre- 
 established harmony with the organisation of a 
 susceptible contributor. 
 
 This island, too, with its grassy valleys and pretty 
 indented coast, is not at all a bad haunt for the 
 Muses, if, as one may suppose, they have dropped 
 their too scanty classical attire, and appear in long 
 dresses and brown hats, like decent Christian 
 women likely to inspire "Clerical Scenes." 
 
 Moreover, having myself a slight zoological weak- 
 ness, I am less alarmed than most people at the 
 society of a zoological maniac. So that, altogether, 
 your contributor is in promising circumstances, and 
 if lie does n't behave like an animal in good condi- 
 tion, is clearly unworthy of his keep.
 
 1S57.] Professor Aytoun's Admiration. 343 
 
 I am much gratified to have made the conquest Letter to 
 of Professor Aytouii ; but with a parent's love for w'ood, 'iT 
 the depreciated child, I can't help standing up for ''""^' ^^^' 
 "Amos" as better than " Gilfil." 
 
 Lewes seems to have higher expectations from 
 the third story than from either of the preceding, but 
 I can form no judgment myself until I have quite 
 finished a thing, and see it aloof from my actual self. 
 I can only go on writing what I feel, and waiting 
 for the proof that I have been able to make others 
 feel. 
 
 Richmond is not fascinating in "the season" or Letter to 
 through the summer. It is hot, noisy, and haunted stwuuef' 
 with Cockneys ; but at other times we love the Park ^^'*** 
 with an increasing love, and we have such a kind, 
 good landlady there, that it always seems like going 
 home when we return to Park Shot. She writes to 
 us : " I hope you will make your fortune — but you 
 must always live with me," which, considering that 
 she gets less out of us than other lodgers, is a proof 
 of affection in a landlady. Yes ! we like our wander- 
 ing life at present, and it is fructifying, and brings 
 us material in many ways ; but we keep in perspec- 
 tive the idea of a cottage among green fields and 
 cows, where we mean to settle down (after we have 
 once been to Italy), and buy pots and kettles and 
 keep a dog. Wherever we are we work hard, — and 
 at work which brings present money ; for we have 
 too many depending on us to be dilettanti or idlers. 
 
 I wish it to be understood that I should never 
 invite any one to come and see me who did not ask 
 for the invitation. 
 
 You wonder how my face has changed in the last 
 three years. Doubtless it is older and uglier, but it 
 ought not to have a bad expression, for I never have
 
 344 
 
 Interest in Mrs. Sibrecs Family, [jersky 
 
 Letter 
 to Mrs 
 John Cash 
 
 anything to call out my ill-humor or discontent, — 
 which you know were always ready enough to come 
 on slight call, — and I have everything to call out 
 love and gratitude. 
 
 Your letter was very sweet to me. The sense of 
 my deficiencies in the past often presses on me with 
 s^rcej^Gth a discouraging weight, and to know that any one 
 June, 1857. ^j^j-^ remember me lovingly, helps me to believe that 
 there has been some good to balance the evil. I 
 like to think of you as a happy wife and mother ; 
 and since Rosehill must have new tenants, I like to 
 think that you and yours are there rather than any 
 one else, not only because of my own confidence in 
 your nature, but because our dear friends love you 
 so much as a neighbour. You know I can never 
 feel otherwise than sorry that they should not have 
 ended their days in that pretty home; but the 
 inevitable regret is softened as much as possible by 
 the fact that the home has become yours. 
 
 It is very nice to hear that Mrs. Sibree can relish 
 anything of my writing. She was always a favour- 
 ite with me ; and I remember very vividly many 
 pleasant little conversations with her. Seventy- 
 two ! How happy you are to have a dear, aged 
 mother, whose heart you can gladden ! 
 
 I was a good deal touched by the letter your 
 brother wrote to you about accepting, or rather 
 declining, more pupils. I feel sure that his sensi- 
 tive nature has its peculiar trials and struggles in 
 this strange life of ours, which some thick-skinned 
 mortals take so easily. 
 
 I am very happy, — happy in the highest bless- 
 ing life can give us, the perfect love and sympathy 
 of a nature that stimulates my own to healthful 
 activity. I feel too that all the terrible pain I
 
 ,c8o7.] * Janet's Re;pentance''' 345 
 
 have gone through in past years, partly from the Letter 
 defects of my own nature, partly from outward johu^ash 
 things, has probably been a preparation for some s^breej^h 
 special work that I may do before I die. Tbat is ''"'^®' ^^^' 
 a blessed hope, to be rejoiced in with trembling. 
 But even if that hope should be unfulfilled, I am 
 contented to have lived and suffered for the sake 
 of what has already been. You see your kind 
 letter has made me inclined to talk about myself, 
 but as we do not often have any communication 
 with each other, I know it will be a gratification 
 to your sympathetic nature to have a few direct 
 words from me that will assure you of my moral 
 well being. 
 
 I hope your little ones are just like you, — just 
 as fair and sweet-tempered. 
 
 I sent off the first part of " Janet's Repentance, " Joumai, 
 but to my disappointment Blackwood did not like '^"'"'' ^^'" 
 it so well, — seemed to misunderstand the charac- 
 ters, and to be doubtful about the treatment of 
 clerical matters. I wrote at once to beg him to 
 give up printing the story if he felt uncomfortable 
 about it, and he immediately sent a very anxious, 
 cordial letter, saying the thought of putting a stop 
 to the series " gave him quite a turn ;" he " did not 
 meet with George Eliots every day, " — and so on. 
 
 I am not much surprised and not at all hurt by Letter to 
 your letter received to-day with the proof. It is wood, nth 
 a great satisfaction — in fact, my only satisfaction *^""^' ^^^^' 
 — that you should give me your judgment with 
 perfect frankness. I am able, I think, to enter 
 into an editor's doubts and difficulties, and to see 
 my stories in some degree from your point of view 
 as well as my own. My answer is written after 
 considering the question as far as possible on all
 
 346 "Janet's Repentance." [jersey, 
 
 Letter to sidss, aiid as I feel that I shall not be able to make 
 w'ood, luh" any other than superficial alterations in the proof, 
 June. 1857. j ^^.- jj^ g^^^. ^^ ^^j^ ^^^ ^^^^t I can in explanation 
 
 of the spirit and future course of the present story. 
 
 The collision in the drama is not at all between 
 " bigoted churchmauship " and evangelicalism, but 
 between /rreligion and religion. Keligion in this 
 case happens to be represented by evangelicalism ; 
 and the story, so far as regards the persecution, 
 is a real bit in the religious history of England, 
 that happened about eight-and-twenty years ago. 
 I thought I had made it apparent in my sketch of 
 Milby feelings, on the advent of Mr. Tryan, that 
 the conflict lay between immorality and morality, 
 — irreligion and religion. Mr. Tryan will carry 
 the reader's sympathy. It is through him that 
 Janet is brought to repentance. Dempster's vices 
 have their natural evolution in deeper and deeper 
 moral deterioration (though not without softening 
 touches), and death from intemperance. Every- 
 thing is softened from the fact, so far as art is 
 permitted to soften and yet to remain essentially 
 true. 
 
 My sketches, both of Churchmen and Dissenters, 
 with whom I am almost equally acquainted, are 
 drawn from close observation of them in real life, 
 and not at all from hearsay or from the descrip- 
 tions of novelists. If I were to undertake to alter 
 language or character, I should be attempting to 
 represent some vague conception of what may 
 possibly exist in other people's minds, but has 
 no existence in my own. Such of your marginal 
 objections as relate to a mere detail, I can meet 
 without difficulty by alteration ; but as an artist 
 I should be utterly powerless if I departed from
 
 1857.] "Janet's Repentance." 347 
 
 my own conceptions of life and character. There Letter to 
 is nothing to be done with the story, but either to wood, luh" 
 let Dempster and Janet and the rest be as I see *''^^•^^'• 
 them, or to renounce it as too painful. I am keenly 
 alive, at once to the scruples and alarms an editor 
 may feel, and to my own utter inability to write 
 under cramping intiueuce, and on this double 
 ground I should like you to consider whether it 
 will not be better to close the series for the " Maga- 
 zine" now. I daresay you will feel no difficulty 
 about publishing a volume containing the story of 
 " Janet's Eepentance, " and I shall accept that plan 
 with no other feeling than that you have been to 
 me the most liberal and agreeable of editors, and 
 are the man of all others I would choose for a 
 publisher. 
 
 My irony, so far as I understand myself, is not 
 directed against opinions, — against any class of 
 religious views, — but against the vices and weak- 
 nesses that belong to human nature in every sort 
 of clothing. But it is possible that I may not 
 affect other minds as I intend and wish to affect 
 them, and you are a better judge than I can be of 
 the degree in which I may occasionally be offen- 
 sive. I should like not to be offensive, — I should 
 like to touch every heart among my readers with 
 nothing but loving humour, with tenderness, with 
 belief in goodness. But I may have failed in this 
 case of Janet, at least so far as to have made you 
 feel its publication in the " Magazine " a disagree- 
 able risk. If so, there will be no harm done by 
 closing the series with No. 2, as I have suggested. 
 If, however, I take your objections to be deeper 
 than they really are, — if you prefer inserting the 
 story in spite of your partial dissatisfaction, I shall
 
 348 
 
 No Bepenting of the Past. [jersey, 
 
 Letter to 
 Jolrn Black- 
 wood, 11th 
 June, 1857. 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Hemiell, 
 8tb June, 
 1857. 
 
 of course be happy to appear under " Maga's " 
 wing still. 
 
 When I remember what have been the successes 
 in fiction, even as republications from " Maga, " 
 I can hardly believe that the public will regard my 
 pictures as exceptionally coarse. But in any case 
 there are too many prolific writers who devote 
 themselves to the production of pleasing pictures, 
 to the exclusion of all disagreeable truths, for me 
 to desire to add to their number. In this respect, 
 at least, I may have some resemblance to Thacke- 
 ray, though 1 am not conscious of being in any 
 way a disciple of his, unless it constitute disci- 
 pleship to think him, as I supjiose the majority of 
 people with any intellect do, on the whole the 
 most powerful of living novelists. 
 
 I feel every day a greater disinclination for 
 theories and arguments about the origin of things 
 in the presence of all this mystery and beauty and 
 pain and ugliness that floods one with conflicting 
 emotions. 
 
 We are reading " Aurora Leigh " for the third 
 time with more enjoyment than ever. I know 
 no book that gives me a deeper sense of communion 
 with a large as well as beautiful mind. It is in 
 process of appearing in a third edition, and no 
 wonder. 
 
 If I live five years longer, the positive result of 
 my existence on the side of truth and goodness will 
 outweigh the small negative good that would have 
 consisted in my not doing anything to shock others, 
 and I can conceive no consequences that will make 
 me repent the past. Do not misunderstand me, 
 and suppose that I think myself heroic or great in 
 any way. Far enough from that! Faulty, miser-
 
 1857.] Mr. Tryan. 349 
 
 ably faulty I am, — but least of all faulty when 
 
 others most blame. 
 
 On the 24th July the pleasant sojourn at 
 Jersey came to an end. The travellers returned 
 to 8 Park Shot, Eichmond, where Miss Sara 
 Hennell paid them a visit at the end of the 
 month, and Dr. and Mrs. Bodichon {nee Miss 
 Barbara L. Smith) came on the 4th of August. 
 On the 12th August there is an entry in the 
 Journal, " Finished the ' Electra ' of Sophocles, 
 and began ^schylus's 'Agamemnon,'" and 
 then come the following letters : — 
 
 Lewes has just given me your letter of the 15th Letter to 
 
 with the accompanying one from the Eev. W. P. wood, Tue» 
 
 Jones. Aug. 1857. 
 
 Mr. Tryan is not a portrait of any clergyman, 
 living or dead. He is an ideal character, but I 
 hope probable enough to resemble more than one 
 evangelical clergyman of his day. 
 
 If Mr. Jones's deceased brother was like Mr. 
 Tryan, so much the better, for in that case he was 
 made of human nature's finer clay, I think you 
 will agree with me that there are few clergymen 
 who would be depreciated by an identification 
 with Mr. Tryan. But I should rather suppose 
 that the old gentleman, misled by some similarity 
 in outward circumstances, is blind to the discrep- 
 ancies which must exist where no portrait was 
 intended. As to the rest of my story, so far as its 
 elements were suggested by real persons, those 
 persons have been, to use good Mr. Jones's phrase, 
 " long in eternity. " 
 
 I think I told you that a persecution of the kind 
 I have described did actually take place, and be- 
 longs as much to the common store of our religious
 
 350 
 
 Rosa Bonheur. 
 
 [RICHMOND^ 
 
 Letter to 
 Joiiu Black- 
 wood, Tues- 
 day, 17th 
 Aug. 1857. 
 
 Letter to 
 MiBB Sara 
 Hennell, 
 19th Aug. 
 1857. 
 
 Letter to 
 John Black- 
 wood, l«t 
 Sept. 1857. 
 
 history as the Gorham Controversy, or as Bishop 
 Blomfield's decision about wax candles. But I 
 only know the outline of the real persecution. The 
 details have been filled in from my imagination. 
 I should consider it a fault which would cause me 
 lasting regret if I had used reality in any other 
 than the legitimate way common to all artists, 
 who draw their materials from their observation 
 and experience. It would be a melancholy result 
 of my fictions, if I gave Just cause of annoyance to 
 any good and sensible person. But I suppose there 
 is no perfect safeguard against erroneous impres- 
 sions or a mistaken susceptibility. We are all apt 
 to forget how little there is about us that is unique, 
 and how very strongly we resemble many other 
 insignificant people who have lived before us. I 
 should n't wonder if several nieces of pedantic 
 maiden ladies saw a portrait of their aunt in Miss 
 Pratt, but I hope they will not think it necessary, 
 on that ground, to increase the already troublesome 
 number of your correspondents. 
 ' We went to see Rosa Bonheur's picture the other 
 day. What power! That is the way women 
 should assert their rights. Writing is part of my 
 religion, and I can write no word that is not 
 prompted from within. At the same time I believe 
 that almost all the best books in the world have 
 been written with the hope of getting money for 
 them. 
 
 Unless there be any strong reason to the con- 
 trary, I should like to close the series with this 
 story. According to my calculation, which, how- 
 ever, may be an erroneous one, the three stories 
 will make two good volumes, — i. e., good as to 
 bulk.
 
 1857.} Thought, not Action. 351 
 
 I have a subject in my mind which will not Letter to 
 come under the limitations of the title " Clerical w°o^, ist'^ 
 Life, " and I am inclined to take a large canvas for ^*^^*' ^^'' 
 it and write a novel. 
 
 In case of my writing fiction for " Maga " again, 
 I should like to be considerably beforehand with 
 my work, so that you can read a thoroughly deci- 
 sive portion before beginning to print. 
 
 The days are very peaceful, — peacefully busy. Letter to 
 One always feels a deeper calm as autumn comes Hei^eu,^ 
 on. I should be satisfied to look forward to a heaven igs?.^''^* 
 made up of long autumn afternoon walks, quite 
 delivered from any necessity of giving a judgment 
 on the woman question, or of reading newspapers 
 about Indian mutinies. I am so glad there are 
 thousands of good people in the world who have 
 very decided opinions, and are fond of working 
 hard to enforce them. I like to feel and think 
 everything and do nothing, a pool of the " deep 
 contemplative " kind. 
 
 Some people do prosper, — that is a comfort. 
 The rest of us must fall back on the beatitudes, — 
 " Blessed are the poor," — that is Luke's version, 
 you know, and it is really, on the whole, more 
 comforting than Matthew's. I 'm afraid there are 
 few of us who can appropriate the blessings of the 
 " poor in spirit. " 
 
 We are reading one of the most wonderful books 
 in French or any other literature, — Monteil's 
 " Histoire des Franqais des divers Etats, " — a 
 history written on an original plan. If you see 
 any account of it, read that account. 
 
 I am very much gratified that my Janet has won Letter to 
 your heart and kept up your interest in her to the wood, sntur. 
 
 J day, 17th 
 
 6na. Oct. 1857.
 
 352 
 
 Aleditating New Story. 
 
 D 
 
 RICHMOND, 
 
 Letter to M v DGW stoTv haunts me a good deal, and I shall 
 
 John Black- ^ \ ^ . "f, , i , t^ -ti -l, 
 
 wood.satur- set auout it Without delay, it will be a country 
 odt!i857. story, — full of the breath of cows and the scent of 
 hay. But I shall not ask you to look at it till I 
 have written a volume or more, and then you will 
 be able to judge whether you will prefer printing 
 it in the " Magazine, " or publishing it as a sepa- 
 rate novel when it is completed. 
 
 By the way, the sheets of the " Clerical Scenes " 
 are not come, but I shall not want to make any 
 other than verbal and literal corrections, so that it 
 will hardly be necessary for me to go through the 
 sheets and the proofs, which I must, of course, see. 
 
 I enclose a titlepage with a motto. But if you 
 don't like the motto I give it up. I 've not set my 
 heart on it. 
 
 I leave the number of copies to be published, and 
 the style of getting up, entirely to your discretion. 
 As to the terms, I wish to retain the copyright, 
 according to the stipulation made for me by Lewes 
 when he sent " Amos Barton ; " aud whatever you 
 can afford to give me for the first edition, I shall 
 prefer having as a definite payment rather than as 
 half profits. 
 
 You stated, in a letter about "Amos Barton," 
 your willingness to accede to either plan, so I have 
 no hesitation in expressing my wishes. 
 
 " Open to conviction, " indeed ! I should think so. 
 I am open to conviction on all points except dinner 
 and debts. I hold that the one must be eaten and 
 the other paid. These are my only prejudices. 
 
 I w'«s pleased with Mr. Call.^ He is a man one 
 
 1 Mr. W. M. W. Call, author of " Reverberations and other 
 Poems," who married Mr. Charles Hennell's widow, — formerly 
 Miss Brabant. As will be -seen from the subsecjuent correspond 
 
 Letter to 
 Mias Sara 
 H'unell, 
 ajth Oct. 
 1857
 
 1857.] The " Woman Question." 353 
 
 really cares to talk to, — has thoughts, says what Letter to 
 he means, and listens to what others say. We Hiuueu™ 
 should quite like to see him often. And I cannot i^v.^*^*" 
 tell you how much I have felt Mrs. Call's graceful 
 as well as kind behaviour to me. Some months 
 ago, before the new edition of the " Biographical 
 History of Philosophy " came out, Mr. Lewes had 
 a letter from a working-man at Leicester, I think, 
 who said that he and some fellow students met 
 together, on a Sunday, to read the book aloud and 
 discuss it. He had marked some errors of the 
 press, and sent them to Mr. Lewes for his new 
 edition. Wasn't that pretty? 
 
 " Conscience goes to the hammering in of nails " Letter to the 
 is my gospeL There can be no harm in preaching oct^i'ss?.*^ 
 that to women at any rate. But I should be sorry 
 to undertake any more specific enunciation of doc- 
 trine on a question so entangled as the " woman 
 question. " The part of the Epicurean gods is 
 always an easy one ; but because I prefer it so 
 strongly myself, I the more highly venerate those 
 who are struggling in the thick of the contest. 
 " La carri^re ouverte aux talens, " whether the 
 talents be feminine .or masculine, I am quite con- 
 fident is a right maxim. Whether " La carriure 
 ouverte k la sottise " be equally just when made 
 equally universal, it would be too much like " tak- 
 ing sides " for me to say. 
 
 There are only three entries in the journal 
 for October. 
 Oct. 9. — Finished " Janet's Repentance. " I had Joumai, 
 
 1857. 
 
 ence, Mr. and Mrs. Call remained amongst the Leweses' warm 
 friends to the end, and Mr. Call is the author of an interest- 
 ing paper on George Eliot in the " Westminster Review " of July, 
 1881. 
 VOL. I. —23
 
 354 
 
 Unbelief in Others' Love. [richmomd, 
 
 Journal, 
 1857. 
 
 Letter to 
 Jolrn Black- 
 wood, 30th 
 Oct. 1S57. 
 
 Letter to 
 Mrs. Braj', 
 1st Nov. 
 1857. 
 
 meant to carry on the series, and especially I longed 
 to tell the story of the " Clerical Tutor, " but my 
 annoyance at Blackwood's want of sympathy in the 
 first part (although he came round to admiration 
 at the third part) determined me to close the series 
 and republish them in two volumes. 
 
 Oct. 22. — Began my new novel " Adam Bede. " 
 Oct. 29. — Eeceived a letter from Blackwood 
 offering me £120 for the first edition of " Scenes of 
 Clerical Life. " 
 
 I am quite contented with the sum (£120) you 
 offer me for the edition, being thoroughly confident 
 of your disposition to do the best you can for me. 
 I perceive your hope of success for the " Scenes " 
 is not strong, and you certainly have excellent 
 means of knowing the probabilities in such a 
 case, 
 
 I am not aware that the motto has been used 
 before ; but if you suspect it, we had better leave 
 it out altogether. A stale motto would hardly be 
 an ornament to the titlepage. 
 
 How I wish I could get to you by some magic, 
 and have one walk over the hill with you again! 
 Letters are poor things compared with five minutes 
 of looking and speaking, and one kiss. Neverthe- 
 less, I do like to have a little letter now and then, 
 though I don't for a moment ask it if you have no 
 spontaneous impulse tn give it. I can't help los- 
 ing belief that people love me, — the unbelief is in 
 my nature, and no sort of fork will drive it finally 
 out. I can't help wondering that you can think 
 of me in the past with much pleasure. It all seems 
 so painful to me, — made up of blunders and self- 
 ishness, — and it only comes back upon me as a 
 thing to be forgiven. That is honest painful truth.
 
 1857.] Progress of New Story. 355 
 
 and not sentimentality. But I am thankful if 
 others found more good than I am able to remember. 
 
 It is pleasant to have the first sheet of one's Letter to 
 
 ^ , ^ ^ 1 s! ^^ John Black- 
 
 proof, — to see one s paragraphs released trom the wood, 7th 
 tight-lacing of double columns, and expanding 
 themselves at their ease. 
 
 I perceive clearly the desirableness of the short 
 number, — for my observation of literary affairs has 
 gone far enough to convince me that neither criti- 
 cal judgment nor practical experience can guar- 
 antee any opinion as to rapidity of sale, in the case 
 of an unknown author ; and I shudder at the pros- 
 pect of encumbering my publishers' bookshelves. 
 
 My new story is in progress, — slow progress at 
 present. A little sunshine of success would stimu- 
 late its growth, I daresay. Unhappily, I am as 
 impressionable as I am obstinate, and as much in 
 need of sympathy from my readers as I am inca- 
 pable of bending myself to their tastes. But if I 
 can only find a public as cordial and agreeable in 
 its treatment of me as my editor, I shall have 
 nothing to wish. Even my thin skin will be 
 comfortable then. The page is not a shabby one, 
 after all ; but I fear the fact of two volumes instead 
 of three is a fatal feature in my style in the eyes 
 of librarians. 
 
 One is glad to have one's book {apropos of review Letter to 
 of Lewes 's " History of Philosophy ") spoken well Henneu™ 
 of by papers of good circulation, because it is issi. '*^" 
 possible, though not certain, that such praise may 
 help the sale ; but otherwise it is hardly worth 
 while to trouble one's self about newspaper reviews, 
 unless they point out some error, or present that 
 very rare phenomenon, a true appreciation, which 
 is the most delicious form in which sympathy can
 
 356 
 
 Tolerating the Intolerant. [richmond, 
 
 Letter to 
 Mias Sara 
 Hennell, 
 9th Nov. 
 1S57. 
 
 Letter to 
 Charles 
 Bray, 15th 
 Nov. 1857. 
 
 reach one. So much sectarian feeling usually arises 
 in discussions on the subject of phrenology, that I 
 confess the associations of the word are not agree- 
 able to me. The last refuge of intolerance is in 
 not tolerating the intolerant ; and I am often in 
 danger of secreting that sort of venom. 
 
 It is pleasant to have a kind word now and then, 
 when one is not near enough to have a kind glance 
 or a hearty shake by the hand. It is an old weak- 
 ness of mine to have no faith in affection that does 
 not express itself ; and when friends take no notice 
 of me for a long while, I generally settle down into 
 the belief that they have become indifierent or have 
 begun to dislike me. That is not the best mental 
 constitution; but it might be worse, — for I don't 
 feel obliged to dislike them in consequence. I, for 
 one, ought not to complain if people think worse 
 of me than I deserve, for I have very often reason 
 to be ashamed of my thoughts about others. They 
 almost always turn out to be better than I expected, 
 — fuller of kindness towards me at least. In the 
 fundamental doctrine of your book (" The Philoso- 
 phy of Necessity "), — that mind presents itself 
 under the same conditions of invariableness of 
 antecedent and consequent as all other phenomena 
 (the only difference being that the true antecedent 
 and consequent are proportionately difficult to dis- 
 cover as the phenomena are more complex), — I 
 think you know that I agree. And every one who 
 knows what science means must also agree wnth 
 you that there can be no social science without the 
 admission of that doctrine. I dislike extremely a 
 passage in which you appear to consider the disre- 
 gard of individuals as a lofty condition of mind. 
 My own experience and development deepen every
 
 1S57.] The Position of Phrenology. 357 
 
 day my conviction that our moral progress may be Letter to 
 measured by the degree in which we sympathise Bray, i5th 
 with individual sutfering and individual joy. The 
 fact that in the scheme of things we see a constant 
 and tremendous sacrifice of individuals is, it seems 
 to me, only one of the many proofs that urge upon 
 us our total inability to find in our own natures a 
 key to the Divine mystery. I could more readily 
 turn Christian, and worship Jesus again, than 
 embrace a Theism which professes to explain the 
 proceedings of God. But I don't feel at all wise 
 in these matters. I have a few strong impressions 
 which serve me for my own support and guidance, 
 but do not in the least qualify me to speak as a 
 theorist. 
 
 Mr. Lewes sends you his kind remembrances, 
 and will not like you any the worse for cutting 
 him up. He has had to perform that office for his 
 own friends sometimes. I suppose phrenology is 
 an open question, on which everybody has a right 
 to speak his mind. Mr. Lewes, feeling the import- 
 ance of the subject, desired to give it its due place 
 in his "History of Philosophy," and doing so, he 
 must, of course, say what he believes to be the 
 truth, not what other people believe to be the truth. 
 If you will show where he is mistaken, you will be 
 doing him a service as well as phrenology. His 
 arguments may be bad ; but I will answer for him 
 that he has not been guilty of any intentional 
 unfairness. With regard to their system, phre- 
 nologists seem to me to be animated by the same 
 sort of spirit as that of religious dogmatists, and 
 especially in this, — 'that in proportion as a man 
 approximates to their opinions without identifying 
 himself with them, they think him offensive and
 
 358 
 
 Sunset Effects. 
 
 [RICHMOND, 
 
 Letter to 
 Charles 
 Bray, 15th 
 Nov. 18S7, 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Hennell, 
 24th Nov. 
 1857. 
 
 Journal, 
 
 1857. 
 
 contemptible. It is amusing to read from the oppo- 
 site side complaints against Mr. Lewes for giving 
 too high a position to phrenology, and a confident 
 opinion that " phrenologists, by their ridiculous 
 pretensions, merit all the contempt that has been 
 thrown on them. " Thus doctors differ ! But I am 
 much less interested in crusades for or against 
 phrenology than in your happiness at Ivy Cottage.^ 
 Happiness means all sorts of love and good feeling , 
 and that is the best result that can ever come out 
 of science. Do you know Buckle's " History of 
 Civilisation " ? I think you would find it a sug- 
 gestive book. 
 
 Anniversaries are sad things, — to one who has 
 lived long and done little. Herbert Spencer dined 
 with us the other day, — looks well, and is brim- 
 ful of clever talk as usual. His volume of " Essays " 
 is to come out soon. He is just now on a crusade 
 against the notion of " species. " We are reading 
 Harriet Martineau's history with edification, and 
 otherwise feeding our souls, which flourish very 
 well, notwithstanding November weather. 
 
 Nov. 28, — A glorious day, still autumnal and 
 not wintry. We have had a delicious walk in the 
 Park, and I think the colouring of the scenery is 
 more beautiful than ever. Many of the oaks are 
 still thickly covered with leaves of a rich yellow- 
 brown ; the elms, golden sometimes, still with lin- 
 gering patches of green. On our way to the Park 
 the view from Richmond Hill had a delicate blue 
 mist over it, that seemed to hang like a veil before 
 the sober brownish -yellow of the distant elms. 
 As we came home, the sun was setting on a fog- 
 bank, and we saw him sink into that purple ocean, 
 
 1 The Brays' new house at Coventry.
 
 1857.] Increase of " Clerical Scenes." 359 
 
 — the orange and gold passing into green above joumai, 
 the fog-bank, the gold and orange reflected in the 
 river in more sombre tints. The other day, as we 
 were coming home through the Park, after having 
 walked under a sombre, heavily clouded sky, the 
 western sun shone out from under the curtain, and 
 lit up the trees and grass, thrown into relief on a 
 background of dark-purple cloud. Then, as we 
 advanced towards the Richmond end of the Park, 
 the level reddening rays shone on the dry fern and 
 the distant oaks, and threw a crimson light on 
 them. I have especially enjoyed this autumn, the 
 delicious greenness of the turf, in contrast with 
 the red and yellow of the dying leaves. 
 
 Dec. 6 (Sunday). — Finished the " Agamemnon " 
 to-day. In the evenings of late we have been 
 reading Harriet Martineau's " Sketch of the British 
 Empire in India, " and are now following it up with 
 Macaulay's articles on Olive and Hastings. We 
 have lately read Harriet Martineau's Introduction 
 to the " History of the Peace. " 
 
 Dec. 8. — I am reading " Die Familie, " by Riehl, 
 forming the third volume of the series, the two 
 first of which, " Land und Volk," and " Die Biir- 
 gerliche Gesellschaft, " I reviewed for the " West- 
 minster. " 
 
 A letter from Blackwood to-day tells us that 
 Major Blackwood, during his brother's absence in 
 England, having some reasons, not specified, for 
 being more hopeful about the "Clerical Scenes," 
 resolved to publish 1000 instead of 750; and in 
 consequence of this, Blackwood promises to pay 
 me an additional £60 when 750 shall have been 
 sold off. He reports that an elderly clergyman has 
 written to him to say that " Janet's Eepentance "
 
 Letter to 
 John Black- 
 wood, lltU 
 Dec. 1857. 
 
 Letter to 
 Miss Sara 
 Hennell, 
 13th Dec. 
 1857. 
 
 360 Identity of George Eliot Susjpected. [richmond, 
 
 is exquisite, — another vote to register along with 
 that of Mrs. Nutt's rector, who " cried over the 
 story like a child. " 
 
 Dec. 10. — Major Blackwood called, — an un- 
 affected, agreeable man. It was evident to us, 
 when he had only been in the room a few minutes, 
 that he knew I was George Eliot. 
 
 Lewes has read to me your last kind letter, and 
 I am not insensible to the " practical cheerer " it 
 contains. But I rejoice with trembling at the 
 additional 250, lest you should have to repent of 
 them. 
 
 I have certainly had a good deal of encourage- 
 ment to believe that there are many minds, both 
 of the more cultured sort and of the common novel- 
 reading class, likely to be touched by my stories ; 
 but the word " many " is very elastic, and often 
 shrinks frightfully when measured by a financial 
 standard. 
 
 When one remembers how long it was before 
 Charles Lamb's Essays were known familiarly to 
 any but the elect few, the very strongest assurance 
 of merit or originality — supposing one so happy 
 as to have that assurance — could hardly do more 
 than give the hope of ultimate recognition. 
 
 Our affairs are very prosperous just now, making 
 sunshine in a shady or rather a foggy place. It is 
 a great happiuess to me that Mr. Lewes gets more 
 and more of the recognition he deserves ; pleasant 
 letters and speeches have been very numerous 
 lately, especially about his " Sea-side Studies " 
 which have appeared in " Blackwood, " and are soon 
 to appear — very much improved and enlarged — 
 in a separate volume. Dear Carlyle writes, apropos 
 of his " Frederic " : " I have had such a fourteen
 
 1857.] BieliVs "Die FaviUie." 361 
 
 months as was never appointed me before in this Letter to 
 world, — sorrow, darkness, and disgust my daily Henneu™ 
 companions ; and no outlook visible, except getting 1857.^^°* 
 a detestable business turned off, or else being driven 
 mad by it. " That is his exaggerated way of speak- 
 ing ; and writing is always painful to him. Do 
 you know he is sixty -two ! I fear this will be his 
 last book. Tell Mr. Bray I am reading a book of 
 Eiehl's, " The Family," forming the sequel to his 
 other volumes. He will be pleased to hear that so 
 good a writer agrees with him on several points 
 about the occupations of women. The book is a 
 good one ; and if I were in the way of writing 
 articles, I should write one on it. There is so 
 much to read, and the days are so short ! I get 
 more hungry for knowledge every day, and less 
 able to satisfy my hunger. Time is like the Sibyl- 
 line leaves, getting more precious the less there 
 remains of it. That, I believe, is the correct allu- 
 sion for a fine writer to make on the occasion. 
 
 I give up the motto, because it struck you as Letter to 
 having been used before ; and though I copied it wood, isth' 
 into my note-book when I was re-reading " Amelia " ^^^' ^^^' 
 a few months ago, it is one of those obvious quota- 
 tions which never appear fresh, though they may 
 actually be made for the first time. 
 
 I shall be curious to know the result of the 
 subscription. 
 
 There are a few persons to whom I should like 
 a copy of the volume to be sent, and I enclose a 
 list of them. 
 
 Dec. 17. — Eead my new story to G. this even- joumai, 
 ing as far as the end of the third chapter. He ^^^' 
 praised it highly. I have finished " Die Fami- 
 lie, " by Eiehl, — a delightful book. I am in the
 
 362 Buckle s History. [Richmond, 
 
 Journal, " Choephorse " now. In the evenings we are reading 
 1857. « jjig^Qj.y Qf ^\^Q Thirty Years' Peace " and Bdranger. 
 
 Thoroughly disappointed in Bdranger. 
 
 Dec. 19 {Saturday). — Alone this evening with 
 very thankful, solemn thoughts, — feeling the 
 great and unhoped-for blessings that have been 
 given me in life. This last year, especially, has 
 been marked by inward progress and outward ad- 
 vantages. In the spring George's " History of 
 Philosophy " appeared in the new edition ; his 
 " Sea-side Studies " have been written with much 
 enjoyment, and met with much admiration, and 
 now they are on the verge of being published with 
 bright prospects. Blackwood has also accepted 
 his " Physiology of Common Life ; " the " Goethe " 
 has passed into its third German edition ; and best 
 of all, G. 's head is well. I have written the 
 "Scenes of Clerical Life," — my first book; and 
 though we are uncertain still whether it will be a 
 success as a separate publication, I have had much 
 sympathy from my readers in " Blackwood," and 
 feel a deep satisfaction in having done a bit of 
 faithful work that will perhaps remain like a 
 primrose root in the hedgerow, and gladden an(i 
 chasten human hearts in years to come. 
 Letter to the Bucklc's is a book full of suggcstivc material^ 
 Dec. 1857. though there are some strangely unphilosophi.j 
 opinions mixed with its hardy philosophy. Fcv 
 example, he holds that there is no such thing as 
 race or hereditary transmission of qualities ! (I 
 should tell you, at the same time, that he is a 
 necessitarian and a physiological-psychologist). It 
 is only by such negations as these that he can find 
 his way to the position which he maintains at 
 great length, — that the progress of mankind is
 
 1857.] Review of Year 1857. 363 
 
 dependent entirely on the progress of knowledge, 
 and that there has been no intrinsically moral 
 advance. However, he presents that side of the 
 subject which has perhaps been least adequately 
 dwelt on. 
 
 Dec. 25 {Christmas Day). — George and I spent journal, 
 this lovely day together, — lovely as a clear spring ^ '" 
 day. We could see Hampstead from the Park so 
 distinctly that it seemed to have suddenly come 
 nearer to us. We ate our turkey together in a 
 happy solitude a deux. 
 
 Dec. 31 {the last night of 1857). — The dear old 
 year is gone, with all its Weben and Strehen. Yet 
 not gone either : for what I have suffered and en- 
 joyed in it remains to me an everlasting possession 
 while my soul's life remains. This time last year 
 I was alone, as I am now, and dear George was at 
 Vernon Hill. I was writing the introduction to 
 "Mr. Gilfil's Love-Story." What a world of 
 thoughts and feelings since then ! My life has 
 deepened unspeakably during the last year : I feel 
 a greater capacity for moral and intellectual enjoy- 
 ment ; a more acute sense of my deficiencies in the 
 past ; a more solemn desire to be faithful to coming 
 duties than I remember at any former period of my 
 life. And my happiness has deepened too : the 
 blessedness of a perfect love and union grows daily. 
 I have had some severe suffering this year from 
 anxiety about my sister, and what will probably 
 be a final separation from her, — there has been no 
 other real trouble. Few women, I fear, have had 
 such reason as I have to think the long sad years 
 of youth were worth living for the sake of middle 
 age. Our prospects are very bright too. I am 
 writing my new novel. G. is full of his " Physi-
 
 364 Review of Year 1857. [richmond, 
 
 Journal, ology of Common Life. " He has just finished 
 editing Johnston, for which he is to have 100 
 guineas, and we have both encouragement to think 
 that our books just coming out, " Sea-side Stud- 
 ies " and "Scenes of Clerical Life," will be well 
 received. So good-bye, dear 1857 ! May I be able 
 to look back on 1858 with an equal consciousness 
 of advancement in work and iu heart !
 
 1855-57.] Summary of Chajpter VII. 365 
 
 SUMMARY. 
 
 MARCH, 1855, TO DECEMBER, 1857. 
 
 Return to England — Dover — Bayswater — East Sheen — 
 
 Books read — Articles written — Letters to Miss Hennell — " Life 
 of Goethe " — Fronde's article on Spinoza — Article writing — 
 " Cummiug " — 8 Park Shot, Richmond — Letter to Charles Bray 
 
 — Effect of article on Cummiug — Letter to Miss Hennell — 
 Reading on Physiology — Article on Heine — Review for 
 "Leader," &c. — Books read — Visit to Mrs. Clarke at Attleboro 
 
 Sale of " Life of Goethe " — " Shaving of Shagpat " — Spinoza's 
 
 " Ethics," translation finished — The " Saturday Review " — 
 Ruskin — Alison — Harriet Martineau — VV omen's earnings — 
 Articles and reviews — Wishes uot to be known as translator of the 
 " Ethics " — Article on Young begun — Visit to llfracorabe — 
 Description — Zoophyte hunting — Finished articles on Young 
 and Riehl — Naturalistic experience — Delightful walks — Rev. 
 Mr. Tugwell — Devonshire lanes and springs — Tendency to 
 scientific accuracy — Sunsets — Cocklewomen at Swansea — 
 Letters to Miss Hennell and Mrs. Peter Taylor — Tenby — Zoology 
 
 — Thoreau's " Walden " — Feeling strong in mind and body — Bar- 
 bara Leigh Smith comes to Tenby — George Eliot anxious to begin 
 her fiction writing — Mr. E. F. S. Pigott — Return to Richmond 
 — Mr. Lewes takes his boys to Hofwyl — George Eliot writes 
 article on " Silly Novels by Lady Novelists " — " How I came to 
 write fiction " — Correspondence between Mr. Lewes and Mr. 
 John Blackwood about MS. of '-Amos Barton" — "Mr. Gilfil's 
 Love-Story " begun — Books read — Letter from John Blackwood 
 to the author of "Amos Barton," sending copy of the January, 
 1857, number of the Magazine and fifty guineas — Reply — Black- 
 wood's admiration — Albert Smith's appreciation — Letters to 
 Blackwood — Name of George Eliot assumed — Dutch school in 
 art — Artistic bent — Letter to Miss Hennell — Intolerance — 
 Letter to John Blackwood on Mr. Swayne comparing writing to 
 Goldsmith's — Letter to Miss Hennell on essay, " Christianity and 
 Infidelity " — Letter to Blackwood — Caterina and the dagger scene 
 
 — Trip to Penzance and the Scilly Isles — Description of St. Mary's 
 
 — Mr. Moyle, the surgeon — Social life — Letter to Mrs. Bray — 
 Anxiety about sister — Letter to Miss Sara Hennell — " Life of 
 Charlotte Bronte " — Letter to Isaac P. Ev.ins — IMrs. Clarke's 
 illness — Letter to Blackwood — Conclusions of stories — Jersey
 
 366 Summary of Chapter VII. [1855-57.] 
 
 — Description of Gorey — Delightful walks — Reading Draper's 
 " Physiology " — Miss Catlow and Dr. Thomson on wild flowers 
 
 — " Life of George Stephenson " — Letter to Miss Ilennell — Life 
 in Jersey — Liggins appears on the scene — " Janet's Repentance " 
 
 — Series attributed to Bulwer — Thackeray thinks highly of it 
 
 — Letter from Herbert Spencer about " Mr. Gilfil " — Letter from 
 Archer Gurney — Lord Stanley thinks highly of the " Scenes " 
 
 — Letter to Blackwood, with first part of " Janet's Repentance " 
 
 — Letter to Mrs. Bray — Richmond — Expression of face — 
 Letter to Mrs. John Cash — Happiness in her life and hope in her 
 work — Chilled by Blackwood's want of enthusiasm about " Janet " 
 
 — Letter to John Blackwood on " Janet " — Letter to Miss Sara 
 Hennell — " Aurora Leigh " — Return to Richmond — Letter to 
 John Blackwood on " Janet " — Letters to Miss Hennell — Rosa 
 Bonheur — Thought, not action — Mr. and Mrs. Call — Letter to 
 John Blackwood — Haunted by new story — Letter to Charles 
 Bray — The " Woman Question "— Close of " Clerical Scenes " 
 series — "Adam Bede " begun — Receives £120 for first edition 
 of " Scenes of Clerical Life " — Letter to Mrs. Bray — Unbelief in 
 people's love — Letter to John BlackAvood — Sheets of " Cleri- 
 cal Scenes " — Letter to Miss Hennell — Newspaper criticism — 
 Letter to Charles Bray — " The Philosophy of Necessity " — 
 Sympathy with individuals — Objection to Theism — Phrenology 
 
 — Happiness the best result that can ever come out of science — 
 Letters to Miss Hennell — Reading Riehl's " The Family " — 
 Hunger for knowledge — Buckle's " History of Civilisation " 
 
 — Autumn days at Richmond — Reading the " Agamemnon " 
 
 — Harriet Martineau's " Sketch of the British Empire in India " 
 
 — Macaulay's essays on Clive and Hastings — Major Blackwood 
 calls, and suspects identity of George Eliot — Reading the 
 " Choephorffi " — " History of the Thirty Years' Peace," and 
 Beranger — Thankfulness in reviewing experience of 1857.
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 As this volume is going through the press, I have 
 to thank Mrs. John Cash of Coventry for the 
 following valuable additional information in regard 
 to the important subject of Miss Evans's change of 
 religious belief in 1841-42, and for her further 
 general recollections of the Coventry period of 
 George Eliot's life: — 
 
 'o^ 
 
 I was sixteen years of age in 1841 ; and, as I 
 have already stated, my first remembrance of Miss 
 Evans is of her call on my father and mother, with 
 their friend and neighbour Mrs. Pears, when in 
 conversation she gave expression to her great appre- 
 ciation of the writings of Isaac Taylor. The con- 
 troversy raised by the "Tracts for the Times," 
 which gave occasion for the publication of Mr. 
 Taylor's "Ancient Christianity," being now re- 
 mote, I give the following extract from a footnote 
 in Trench's " Notes on the Parables," to show the 
 influence such a work as Mr. Taylor's would be 
 likely to exercise on the mind of one who esteemed 
 its author ; and also the feeling it excited against 
 an eminently religious man, by revelations which 
 he desired and believed would serve the cause of 
 New Testament Christianity. The note is on the 
 " Tares. " The quotation, containing the reference, 
 is from Menken.
 
 368 Appendix. 
 
 " Many so-called Church historians {authors of 
 " Ancient Christianitij " and the like), ignorant of the 
 purpose and of the hidden glory of the Church, 
 have their pleasure in the Tares, and imagine them- 
 selves wonderfully vi^ise and useful when out of 
 Church history (which ought to be the history of 
 the Light and the Truth) they have made a shame- 
 ful history of error and wickedness. " 
 
 It was upon her first or second interview with 
 my mother that Miss Evans told her how shocked 
 she had been by the apparent union of religious 
 feeling with a low sense of morality among the 
 people in the district she visited, who were mostly 
 Methodists. She gave as an instance the case of 
 a woman, who, when a falsehood was clearly 
 brought home to her by her visitors, said, " She did 
 not feel that she had grieved the Spirit much. " 
 Now those readers of the letters to Miss Lewis who 
 are acquainted with modern Evangelicalism, even 
 in its " after-glow, " especially as it was presented 
 to the world by Church of England teaching and 
 practice, will recognise its characteristics in the 
 moral scrupulousness, the sense of obligation on 
 the part of Christians to avoid the very appearance 
 of evil, the practical piety which those letters 
 reveal. 
 
 Mrs. Evans (Miss Lewis tells me) was a very 
 serious, earnest-minded woman, anxiously con- 
 cerned for the moral and religious training of her 
 children ; glad to place them under the care of 
 such persons as the Misses Franklin, to whose 
 school a mother of a different order objected, on the 
 ground that " it was where that saint Mary Ann 
 Evans had been. " 
 
 It is natural, then, that, early awed by and
 
 Appendix. 369 
 
 attracted towards beliefs cherished by the best 
 persons she had known, and advocated in the best 
 books she had read, the mind of Miss Evans should 
 have been stirred by exhibitions of a theoretic sever- 
 ance of religion from morality, whether presented 
 among the disciples of " Ancient Christianity " or 
 by the subjects of its modern revivals : it is prob- 
 able that she may thereby have been led, as others 
 have been, to a reconsideration of the creeds of 
 Christendom, and to further inquiry concerning 
 their origin. 
 
 On the same grounds it is likely that the pres- 
 entation of social virtues, apart from evangelical 
 motives, would impress her; and I have authority 
 for stating that to the inquiry of a friend in after 
 years, as to what influence she attributed the first 
 unsettlement of her orthodox views, she quickly 
 made answer: " Oh, Walter Scott's." Now I well 
 remember her speaking to me of Robert Hall's con- 
 fession that he had been made unhappy for a week 
 by the reading of Miss Edgeworth's Tales, in which 
 useful, good, and pleasant lives are lived with no 
 reference to religious hopes and fears ; and her 
 drawing my attention to the real greatness of mind 
 and sincerity of faith which this candid confession 
 betokened. Such remarks, I think, throw light 
 upon the way in which her own evangelical belief 
 had been affected by works in which its dogmas 
 are not enforced as necessary springs of virtuous 
 action. 
 
 I give these scattered reminiscences, in evidence 
 of the half-unconscious preparation (of which Mr. 
 Cross speaks), for a change which was, in my judg- 
 ment, more gradual in its development, as well as 
 deeper in its character, than might be inferred from 
 
 VOL. I. — 24
 
 370 Appendix. 
 
 the record of its abrupt following upon Miss Evans's 
 introduction to Mr. Hennell's " Inquiry concerning 
 the Origin of Christianity. " 
 
 The evening's discussion with my father, to 
 which I have referred in my previous communica- 
 tion in the " Life, " is now vividly present to my 
 mind. There was not only on her part a vehe- 
 mence of tone, startling in one so quiet, but a 
 crudeness in her objections, an absence of proposed 
 solution of difficulties, which partly distressed and 
 partly pleased me (siding as I did mentally with 
 my father), and which was in strange contrast to 
 the satisfied calm which marked her subsequent 
 treatment of religious differences. 
 
 Upon my father's using an argument (common 
 enough in those days) drawn from the present con- 
 dition of the Jews as a fulfilment of prophecy, and 
 saying, " If I were tempted to doubt the truth of 
 the Bible, I should only have to look at a Jew to 
 confirm my faith in it," " Don't talk tome of the 
 Jews ! " Miss Evans retorted, in an irritated tone ; 
 " to think that they were deluded into expectations 
 of a temporal deliverer, and then punished because 
 they could n't understand that it was a spiritual 
 deliverer that was intended ! " To something that 
 followed from her, intimating the claim of creatures 
 upon their Creator, my father objected, " But we 
 have no claim upon God. " " No claim upon God ! " 
 she reiterated indignantly ; " we have the strongest 
 possible claim upon Him. " 
 
 I regret that I can recall nothing more of a con- 
 versation carried on for more than two hours ; but 
 I vividly remember how deeply Miss Evans was 
 moved, and how, as she stood against the mantel- 
 piece during the last part of the time, her delicate
 
 Apjpendix. 371 
 
 fingers, in which she held a small piece of muslin 
 on which she was at work, trembled with her 
 agitation. 
 
 The impression allowed to remain upon the minds 
 of her friends, for some time after she had made 
 declaration of her heresies, was of her being in a 
 troubled, unsettled state. So great were her sim- 
 plicity and candour in acknowledging this, and so 
 apparent was her earnest desire for truth, that no 
 hesitation was felt in asking her to receive visits 
 from persons of different persuasions, who were 
 judged competent to bring forward the best argu- 
 ments in favour of orthodox doctrines. One of 
 these was a Baptist minister, introduced to her by 
 Miss Franklin : he was said to be well read in 
 divinity, and I remember him as an original and 
 interesting preacher. After an interview with 
 Miss Evans, meeting my father, he said : " That 
 young lady must have had the devil at her elbow 
 to suggest her doubts, for there was not a book that 
 I recommended to her in support of Christian evi- 
 dences that she had not read. " 
 
 Mr. Watts, one of the professors at Spring Hill 
 College (Independent), Birmingham, a colleague 
 of Mr. Henry Eogers, author of the " Eclipse of 
 Faith, " and who had himself studied at the Halld 
 University, and enjoyed the friendship of Dr. 
 Tholiick, was requested (I think by my mother) to 
 call on Miss Evans. His acquaintance with Ger- 
 man nationalism (rare in England in those days) 
 qualified him to enter into, and it was hoped to 
 meet, difficulties raised by a critical study of the 
 New Testament. After his first or second inter- 
 view, my brother remembers his observing with 
 emphasis, " She has gone into the question ; " and
 
 372 Ap2>endix. 
 
 I can recall a reference made by him at a later date 
 in my hearing to Miss Evans's discontent with her 
 own solutions, — or rather with her own stand- 
 point at that time. This discontent he said " was 
 so far satisfactory. " Doubtless it gave him hope 
 of the reconversion of one who had, as he told my 
 mother, awakened deep interest in his own mind, 
 as much by the earnestness which characterised 
 her inquiries as by her exceptional attainments. 
 
 From letters that passed between my brother and 
 myself during his residence in Germany, I give the 
 following extracts referring to this period. 
 
 The first is from one of mine, dated September 2, 
 1842. 
 
 " In my father's absence we (my mother and I) 
 called on Miss Evans. She now takes up a difi'er- 
 ent position. Her views are not altogether altered, 
 but she says it would be extreme arrogance in so 
 young a person to suppose she had obtained yet any 
 just ideas of truth. She had been reading Dr. 
 Tholiick's reply to Strauss's 'Life of Jesus,' but 
 said Mr. Watts had advised her not to read his 
 ' Guido and Julius. ' " 
 
 In answer to this my brother says, in a letter 
 dated, Halld, September 26, 1842: "You have 
 given, doubtless, a very accurate account of Miss 
 Evans's mode of stating her present sentiments. 
 Mr. Watts 's reason for advising that Dr. Tholiick's 
 ' Guido and Julius' be not read is, perhaps, that 
 the reasoning is not satisfactory. " 
 
 In another letter, addressed to my brother at 
 Halld, and dated October 28, 1842, 'l tell him: 
 " Last week mother and I spent an evening with 
 Miss Evans. She seems more settled in her views 
 than ever, and rests her objections to Christianity
 
 Appendix. 373 
 
 on this ground, that Calvinism is Christianity, and, 
 jhis granted, that it is a religion based on pure self- 
 ishness. She occupied, however, a great part of 
 the time in pleading for works of imagination, 
 maintaining that they perform an office for the 
 mind which nothing else can. On the mention of 
 Shakspeare, she praised him with her character- 
 istic ardour, was shocked at the idea that mother 
 should disapprove the perusal of his writings, and 
 quite distressed lest, through her influence, I 
 should be prevented from reading them. She could 
 be content were she allowed no other book than 
 Shakspeare ; and in educating a child, this would 
 be the first book she would place in its hands. 
 
 " She seems to have read a great deal of Italian 
 literature, and speaks with rapture of Metastasio's 
 novels. She has lent me ' Le mie Prigioni ' di 
 Silvio Pellico, in his own tongue, as a book to 
 begin with. She says there is a prevailing but 
 very mistaken idea that Italian is an easy language, 
 though she is exceedingly delighted with it. If at 
 any time I wish to begin German, she would very 
 much like to give me some instruction. " 
 
 In addition to the above relating to Shakspeare, 
 I recall the protest that my mother's objection to 
 his plays (my mother had been an ardent lover of 
 " the play "), on the ground that there were things 
 in them that offended her, was as reasonable as the 
 objection to walk in a beautiful garden, " because 
 toads and weeds are to be found in it. " 
 
 In a letter dated March 6, 1843, I write to my 
 brother : " Your request that you may be informed 
 as to the precise nature of Miss Evans's philo- 
 sophical views, I shall find it very difficult to com- 
 ply with, inasmuch as on our last interview she did
 
 374 Appendix. 
 
 not express herself so fully on tliis subject as for- 
 merly ; indeed I believe she is not now so desirous 
 of controversy. She however appeared, to me at 
 least, to have rather changed her ground on some 
 points. For instance, she said she considered 
 Jesus Christ as the embodiment of perfect love, 
 and seemed to be leaning slightly to the doctrines 
 of Carlyle and Emerson when she remarked that 
 she considered the Bible a revelation in a certain 
 sense, as she considered herself a revelation of the 
 mind of Deity, &c. She was very anxious to know 
 if you had heard Schelling. " 
 
 In a letter addressed to my brother at Spring 
 Hill College, and dated October 28, 1844, I find 
 this reference to Dr. Harris, who had been preach- 
 ing a charity sermon in a chapel at Foleshill. 
 
 " Miss Evans has just been reproaching me for 
 not informing her of Dr. Harris's preaching, which 
 she would have given anything to hear, as she 
 says his ' Great Teacher ' left more delightful 
 impressions on her mind than anything she ever 
 read, and is, she thinks, the best book that could 
 be written by a man holding his principles. " 
 
 In the same letter I mention a second lesson in 
 German given me by Miss Evans. In one written 
 some time before, I tell my brother of her kind 
 proposal, but add that my parents object " on 
 account of her dangerous sentiments. " She had, 
 however, since called at our house one morning to 
 renew it ; and I well remember how eagerly I 
 watched my mother, looking so affectionately at 
 Miss Evans, and saying quietly, " You know, with 
 your superior intellect, I cannot help fearing you 
 might influence Mary, though you might not intend 
 to do so. But," she went on to say, "her father
 
 Ap;pendix. 375 
 
 does not agree with me : he does not see any danger, 
 and thinks we ought not to refuse, as it is so very 
 kind of you to be willing to take the trouble, — 
 and we know it would be a great advantage to her 
 to learn German ; for she will probably have to 
 earn her living by teacliing. " Seeing at a glance 
 how matters stood. Miss Evans turned round 
 quickly to me, and said, " Come on Saturday at 
 three o'clock, and bring what books you have. " 
 
 So I went, and began " Don Carlos," continuing 
 to go, with some intervals occasioned by absence, 
 pretty regularly on Saturday afternoons, for nearly 
 two years ; but it was not until the end of the 
 second year, when I received Miss Evans's sugges- 
 tion that the lessons were no longer necessary and 
 should be discontinued, that I fully realised what 
 this companionship had been to me. The loss was 
 like the loss of sunshine. 
 
 No promise had been given that my religious 
 belief should be undisturbed, nor was any needed. 
 Interest was turned aside from Calvinism and 
 Arminianism, which at an early age had engaged 
 my attention, towards manifestations of nobility 
 of character, and sympathy with human struggles 
 and sufferings under varied conditions. The char- 
 acter of the " Marquis von Posa " (in " Don Carlos ") 
 roused an enthusiasm for heroism and virtue, 
 which it was delightful to express to one who so 
 fully shared it. Placing together one day the 
 works of Schiller, which were in two or three 
 volumes, Miss Evans said, " Oh, if I had given 
 these to the world, how happy I should be ! " 
 
 It must have been to confirm myself in my tra- 
 ditional faith by confession of it, that I once took 
 upon myself to say to her how sure I was that
 
 376 Appendix. 
 
 there could be no true morality without evangelical 
 belief. " Oh, it is so, is it ? " she said, with the 
 kindest smile, and nothing further passed. From 
 time to time, however, her reverence and affection 
 for the character of Christ and the Apostle Paul, 
 and her sympathy with genuine religious feeling, 
 were very clear to me. Expressing one day her 
 horror of a crowd, she said, " I never would press 
 through one, unless it were to see a second Jesus." 
 The words startled me, — the conception of Jesus 
 Christ in my mind being so little associated with 
 a human form; but they impressed me with a cer- 
 tain reality of feeling which I contrasted, as I did 
 Miss Evans's abiding interest in great principles, 
 with the somewhat factitious and occasional as 
 well as fitful affection and concern manifest in 
 many whom I looked up to as " converted " people. 
 
 Once only do I remember such contrast being 
 made by herself. She attended the service at the 
 opening of a new church at Foleshill with her 
 father, and remarked to me the next day, that 
 looking at the gaily dressed people, she could not 
 help thinking how much easier life would be to 
 her, and how much better she should stand in the 
 estimation of her neighbours, if only she could take 
 things as they did, be satisfied with outside pleas- 
 ures, and conform to the popular beliefs without 
 any reflection or examination. Once, too, after 
 being in the company of educated persons " pro- 
 fessing and calling themselves Christians," she 
 commented to me on the tone of conversation, 
 often frivolous, sometimes ill-natured, that seemed 
 yet to excite in no one any sense of impropriety. 
 
 It must have been in those early days that she 
 spoke to me of a visit from one of her uncles in
 
 Appendix. 377 
 
 Derbyshire, a Wesleyan, and how much she had 
 enjoyed talking with him, finding she could enter 
 into his feelings so much better than she had done 
 in past times, when her views seemed more in 
 accordance with his own, but were really less so. 
 
 Amongst other books, I remember the " Life of 
 Dr. Arnold " interested her deeply. Speaking of 
 it to me one morning, she referred to a conversation 
 she had had with a friend the evening before, and 
 said they had agreed that it was a great good for 
 such men to remain within the pale of orthodoxy, 
 that so they might draw from the old doctrines the 
 best that was to be got from them. 
 
 Of criticisms on German books read with Miss 
 Evans, I recall one or two. In the " Robbers, " she 
 criticised the attempt to enhance the horror of the 
 situation of the abandoned father, by details of 
 physical wretchedness, as a mistake in Art. 
 " Wallenstein " she ranked higher from an intel- 
 lectual point of view than any other work of 
 Schiller's. The talk of the soldiers in the " Lager " 
 she pointed out to me as " just what it would be. " 
 On my faint response, " I suppose it is ! " she re- 
 turned, " No, you do not suppose, — we Tcnovj these 
 things ; " and then gave me a specimen of what 
 might be a navvy's talk, — " The sort of thing such 
 people say is, ' I'll break off your arm, and bloody 
 your face with the stump. ' " 
 
 Mrs. Bray tells the following incident, as show- 
 ing her quick perception of excellence from a new 
 and unknown source. " We were sittinc^ " Mrs 
 Bray says, " one summer afternoon on the lawn at 
 Eosehill, July, 1850, when Marian came running 
 to us from the house with the ' Leader ' newspaper 
 in her hand. * Here is a new poet come into the
 
 378 Appendix. 
 
 world ! ' she exclaimed, and sitting down with us 
 she read from the ' Leader the poem called ' Hymn ' 
 signed M. , and ending with the fine stanza, — 
 
 " ' When I have passed a nobler life iu sorrow ; 
 
 Have seen rude masses grow to fulgent spheres ; 
 Seen how To-day is father of To-morrow, 
 And how the Ages justify the Years, 
 
 I praise Thee, God.' 
 
 " The ' Hymn ' is now reprinted in Mr. W. M. W. 
 Call's volume of collected poems, called ' Golden 
 Histories. ' " 
 
 Kingsley's " Saint's Tragedy " was not so popular 
 as his other works, but Miss Evans was deeply 
 moved by it. Putting it into my hands one morn- 
 ing, she said, " There, read it, — yoii will care for 
 it." 
 
 The Life of "Jean Paul Eichter, " published in 
 the Catholic Series (in which the head of Christ, 
 by De la Eoche, so dear to her, figures as a vig- 
 nette), was read and talked of with great interest, 
 as was his " Flower, Fruit, and Thorn Pieces, " 
 translated by the late Mr. Edward Noel of Hamp- 
 stead. Choice little bits of humour from the latter 
 she greatly enjoyed. 
 
 Margaret Fuller's " Woman in the Nineteenth 
 Century," I think Miss Evans gave to me. I 
 know it interested her, as did " Emerson's Essays. " 
 On his visit to Coventry, we could not, unfortu- 
 nately, accept Mr. Bray's kind invitation to meet 
 him at Eosehill ; but after he had left. Miss Evans 
 soon came up kindly to give us her impressions of 
 him while they were fresh in her memory. She 
 told us he had asked her what had first awakened 
 her to deep reflection, and when she answered, 
 " Eousseau's Confessions," he remarked that this
 
 Appendix. iJ79 
 
 was very interesting, inasmuch as Carlyle had told 
 him that very book had had the same effect upon 
 his mind. As /heard Emerson's remark after his 
 interviews with Miss Evans, it was, " That young 
 lady has a calm, clear spirit. " Intercourse, it will 
 be seen, was kept up with my family, otherwise 
 than through the lessons, by calls, and in little 
 gatherings of friends in evenings, when we were 
 favoured to hear Miss Evans sing. Her voice was 
 not strong, and I think she preferred playing on 
 the piano; but her low notes were eti'ective, and 
 there was always an elevation in the rendering. 
 
 As I knew Miss Evans, no one escaped her 
 notice. In her treatment of servants, for instance, 
 she was most considerate. "They come to me," 
 she used to say, " with all their troubles, " as 
 indeed did her friends generally, — sometimes, she 
 would confess, to an extent that quite oppressed 
 her. When any object of charity came under her 
 notice, and power to help was within her reach, 
 she was very prompt in rendering it. Our ser- 
 vant's brother or sister, or both of them, died, 
 leaving children dependent on friends themselves 
 poor. Miss Evans at once offered to provide cloth- 
 ing and school-fees for one of these, a chubby-faced 
 little girl four or five years of age. Unexpectedly, 
 however, an aunt at a distance proposed to adopt 
 the child. I recollect taking her to say good-bye to 
 her would-be benefactress, and can see her now 
 standing still and subdued in her black frock and 
 cape, with Miss Evans kneeling down by her, and 
 saying, after giving her some money, " Then I sup- 
 pose there is nothing else we can do for her. " 
 
 My husband's mother, who was a member of the 
 Society of Friends, established, with the help of
 
 380 Appendix. 
 
 her daughters and a few others interested, an Indus- 
 trial Home for girls about the age of fourteen. It 
 was in the year 1843, and was, therefore, one of 
 the first institutions of the kind in England. The 
 model was taken from something of the same order 
 attempted by a young girl in France. The girls 
 were, as far as practicable, to maintain themselves, 
 working under conditions of comfort and protection 
 more attainable than in their own homes. The 
 idea was new ; the Home could not be started 
 without funds, and my mother undertook to collect 
 for it in her own neighbourhood. In a letter to 
 me, written at this time, she tells me she is " not 
 doing much to help dear Mrs. Cash," there being 
 " a prejudice against the scheme ; " but adds, " This 
 morning Miss Evans called, and brought me two 
 guineas from her father. " I tell of this, as one 
 among many indications of Miss Evans's ever- 
 growing zeal to serve humanity in a broader way, 
 motived as she felt by a higher aim than what she 
 termed " desire to save one's soul by making up 
 coarse flannel for the poor. " 
 
 In these broad views — in this desire to bring 
 her less advantaged neighbours nearer to her own 
 level, to meet them on common ground, to raise 
 them above the liability to eleemosynary charity 
 • — she had Mr. Bray's full sympathy. To me she 
 dwelt frequently upon his genuine benevolence, 
 upon his ways of advancing the interests of the 
 working-men, as being in her judgment wise and 
 good. She visited periodically, in turn with Mrs. 
 Bray, myself, and a few others, an infant-school 
 which Mr. Bray had helped to start ; and although 
 this sort of work was so little suited to her, yet so 
 much did she feel the duty of living for others,
 
 A'pipeiidix. 381 
 
 especially the less privileged, that one morning she 
 came to Mrs. Bray, expressing strongly her desire 
 to help in any work that could be given her. The 
 only thing that could be thought of was the illus- 
 tration of some lessons in Natural History, on 
 sheets of cardboard, needed then when prints of the 
 kind were not to be procured for schools. The 
 class of animals to be illustrated by Mrs. Bray on 
 the sheet taken by Miss Evans was the " Kodentiffi, " 
 and at the top a squirrel was to figure, the which 
 she undertook to draw. This I have seen, half fin- 
 ished, — a witness to the willing mind ; proof that 
 its proper work lay otherwhere. Lectures at the 
 Mechanics' Institute were matters of great interest 
 to Miss Evans ; and I remember the pleasure given 
 her by the performance of the music of " Comus, " 
 with lecture by Professor Taylor, at our old St. 
 Mary's Hall. In that hall, too, we heard the first 
 lecture on total abstinence that I remember to have 
 heard in Coventry, though of " Temperance Socie- 
 ties " we knew something. The lecturer was the 
 Rev. Mr. Spencer, a clergyman at Hinton Charter- 
 house, near Bath, and uncle of Mr. Herbert Spencer. 
 Miss Evans was present at the lecture, with Mr. 
 Bray, who told me afterwards he had some diffi- 
 culty in restraining her from going up, as soon as 
 the lecture was over, to take the pledge, he thought 
 without due consideration. " I felt, " she said, 
 speaking to me afterwards of the lecturer, " that he 
 had got hold of a power for good that was of incal- 
 culable worth. " 
 
 I need scarcely say that I received, along with 
 lessons in German, some " rules and lessons for 
 life " from Miss Evans. One of the first was an 
 injunction to be accurate, — enforced with the
 
 382 Appendix. 
 
 warning that the tendency is to grow less and less 
 so as we get older. The other was, tolerance. 
 How well I can remember the remonstrance, " My 
 dear child, the great lesson of life is tolerance. " 
 In the proverb, " Live and let live, " she saw a 
 principle involved, harder to act upon, she would 
 say, than the maxims of benevolence, — I think, 
 because bringing less credit with it. 
 
 The reading of dramas and romances naturally 
 gives rise to discussion of their main theme. In 
 treating of love and marriage, Miss Evans's feeling 
 was so fine as to satisfy a young girl in her teens, 
 with her impossible ideals. The conception of the 
 union of two persons by so close a tie as marriage, 
 without a previous union of minds as well as hearts, 
 was to her dreadful. " How terrible it must be, " 
 she once said to me, " to find one's self tied to a 
 being whose limitations you could see, and must 
 know were such as to prevent your ever being 
 understood ! " She thought that though in Eng- 
 land marriages were not professedly " arranges, " 
 they were so too often practically : young people 
 being brought together, and receiving intimations 
 that mutual interest was desired and expected, 
 were apt to drift into connections on grounds not 
 strong enough for the wear and tear of life; and 
 this, too, among the middle as well as in the 
 higher classes. After speaking of these and other 
 facts, of how things were and would be, in spite of 
 likelihood to the contrary, she would end by say- 
 ing playfully, " Now remember I tell you this, 
 and I am sixty ! " 
 
 She thought the stringency of laws rendering the 
 marriage-tie (at that date) irrevocable, practically 
 worked injuriously ; the effect being " that many
 
 Appendix. 383 
 
 wives took far less pains to please their husbands 
 in behaviour and appearance, because they knew 
 their own position to be invulnerable. " And at a 
 later time she spoke of marriages on the Continent, 
 where separations did not necessarily involve dis- 
 credit, as being very frequently far happier. 
 
 One claim, as she regarded it, from equals to 
 each other, was this, the right to hear from the 
 aggrieved, " You have ill-treated me ; do you not 
 see your conduct is not fair, looked at from my 
 side ? " Such frankness would, she said, bring 
 about good understanding better than reticent en- 
 durance. Her own filial piety was sufficiently 
 manifest ; but of the converse obligation, that of 
 the claim of child upon parent, she was wont to 
 speak thus strongly. " There may be, " she would 
 say, " conduct on the part of a parent which should 
 exonerate his child from further obligation to him ; 
 but there cannot be action conceivable which should 
 absolve the parent from obligation to serve his 
 child, seeing that for that child's existence he is 
 himself responsible. " I did not at the time see 
 the connection between this view and the change 
 of a fundamental nature marked by Miss Evans's 
 earlier contention for our " claim on God. " The 
 bearing of the above on orthodox religion I did not 
 see. Some time ago, however, I came across this 
 reflection, made by a clergyman of the Broad 
 Church school, — that since the claims of children 
 had, in the plea for schools, been based on the 
 responsibility of parents towards them, a higher 
 principle had been maintained on the platform 
 than was preached from the pulpit, as the basis of 
 the popular theology. 
 
 In my previous communication in the " Life," I
 
 384 Appendix. 
 
 have already made mention of Miss Evans's sym 
 pathy with me in my own religious difficulties ; 
 and my obligations to her were deepened by her 
 seconding my resolve to acknowledge how much of 
 the traditional belief had fallen away from me, 
 and left a simpler faith. In this I found her best 
 help when, as time passed on, my brother saw he 
 could not conscientiously continue in the calling 
 he had chosen. As, however, his heresies were 
 not considered fatal, and he was esteemed by the 
 professors and students of his college, there was 
 for some time hesitation. In this predicament I 
 wrote to him a little favouring compromise. My 
 mother also wrote. I took the letters to Miss 
 Evans before posting them. She read mine first, 
 with no remark, and then began my mother's, 
 reading until she came upon these words : " In 
 the meantime let me entreat you not to utter any 
 sentiments, either in the pulpit or in conversation, 
 that you do not believe to be strictly true ; " on 
 which she said, turning to me, " Look, this is the 
 important point, what your mother says here," and 
 I immediately put my own letter into the fire. 
 " What are you doing ? " she quickly said ; and 
 when I answered, " You are right, — my mother's 
 letter is to the point, and that only need go, " she 
 nodded assent, and, keeping it, sent it enclosed 
 with a few lines from herself. 
 
 I knew what I had done, and so did she : the 
 giving up of the ministry to a young man without 
 other resources was no light matter, and as I rose 
 to go, she said, " These are the tragedies for which 
 the world cares so little, but which are so much to 
 me." 
 
 More than twenty years elapsed before I had
 
 Appendix. 385 
 
 again the privilege of seeing George Eliot, and that 
 on one occasion only, after her final settlement in 
 London. It touched me deeply to find how much 
 she had retained of her kind interest in all that 
 concerned me and mine, and I remarked on this to 
 Mr. Lewes, who came to the door with my daughter 
 and myself at parting. " Wonderful sympathy," I 
 said. " Is it not ? " said he ; and when I added, 
 inquiringly, " The power lies there ? " " Unques- 
 tionably it does, " was his answer ; " she forgets 
 nothing that has ever come within the curl of her 
 eyelash : above all, she forgets no one who has ever 
 spoken to her one kind word. " 
 
 VOL. I. — 25 
 
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