George Eliot's life as related in her letters and journals;

This is a digital copy of a book that was preserved for generations on library shelves before it was carefully scanned by Google as part of a project
to make the world's books discoverable online.

It has survived long enough for the copyright to expire and the book to enter the public domain. A public domain book is one that was never subject
to copyright or whose legal copyright term has expired. Whether a book is in the public domain may vary country to country. Public domain books
are our gateways to the past, representing a wealth of history, culture and knowledge that's often difficult to discover.

Marks, notations and other marginalia present in the original volume will appear in this file - a reminder of this book's long journey from the
publisher to a library and finally to you.

Usage guidelines

Google is proud to partner with libraries to digitize public domain materials and make them widely accessible. Public domain books belong to the
public and we are merely their custodians. Nevertheless, this work is expensive, so in order to keep providing this resource, we have taken steps to
prevent abuse by commercial parties, including placing technical restrictions on automated querying.

We also ask that you:

+ Make non-commercial use of the files We designed Google Book Search for use by individuals, and we request that you use these files for
personal, non-commercial purposes.

+ Refrain from automated querying Do not send automated queries of any sort to Google's system: If you are conducting research on machine
translation, optical character recognition or other areas where access to a large amount of text is helpful, please contact us. We encourage the
use of public domain materials for these purposes and may be able to help.

+ Maintain attribution The Google "watermark" you see on each file is essential for informing people about this project and helping them find
additional materials through Google Book Search. Please do not remove it.

+ Keep it legal Whatever your use, remember that you are responsible for ensuring that what you are doing is legal. Do not assume that just
because we believe a book is in the public domain for users in the United States, that the work is also in the public domain for users in other
countries. Whether a book is still in copyright varies from country to country, and we can't offer guidance on whether any specific use of
any specific book is allowed. Please do not assume that a book's appearance in Google Book Search means it can be used in any manner
anywhere in the world. Copyright infringement liability can be quite severe.

About Google Book Search

Google's mission is to organize the world's information and to make it universally accessible and useful. Google Book Search helps readers
discover the world's books while helping authors and publishers reach new audiences. You can search through the full text of this book on the web

at |http : //books . google . com/

ri

F

GEOEGE ELIOT'S LIFE
Vol. II.-FAMOUS

)-y

\^

'OUR FINEST HOPE IS FINEST MEMORY'

MISS EVANS, /lT 30.

Eagravad by G JStoda-rt. from a Paanling hy M.D Alberl-Durade.

GEOEGE ELIOT'S LIFE

AS

RELATED IN HER LETTERS
AND JOURNALS

ARRANGED AND EDITED BY HER HUSBAND
J. W. CEOSS

IN THREE VOLUME /

VOL. IL

A NEW EDITION

WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SON^^

EDINBURGH AND LONDON

MDCCCLXXXV

t

CONTENTS OF THE SECOND VOLUME.

CHAPTER VIII.

JANUARY 1858 TO DECEMBER 1858.

PAGE

Success of ' Scenes of Clerical Life * — * Adam Bede,' . 1

CHAPTER IX

JANUARY 1859 TO MARCH 1860.

'The Mill on the Floss,' .... 79

CHAPTER X.

MARCH TO JUNE 1860.

Eirst Journey to Italy, . . . .164

CHAPTER XI.

JULY 1860 TO DECEMBER 1861.

'SUas Marner/ — *Romola' begun, . . . 255

vi Caatents,

CHAPTER XII.

JAJJUARY 1862 TO DECEMBER 1865.

^Romok'— 'FelbtHolt; . . . .329

CHAPTER XIII.

ifAmJAHY 1866 TO DECEMBER 1866.

Tour in Holland and on the Rhine, . . 419

ILLUSTRATIONS TO THE SECOND VOLUME.

Portrait of George Eliot. Engraved by

G. J. Stodart, .... Frontispiece,
Facsimile op George Eliot's Handwriting, At end.

GEOEGE ELIOT'S LIFE.

CHAPTER VIII.

Jan. 2. — George has returned this evening from a Jounuu,

1858.

week's visit to Vernon Hill. On coming up-stairs
he said — " I have some very pretty news for you, —
something in my pocket." I was at a loss to con-
jecture, and thought confusedly of possible opinions
from ^admiring readers, when he drew the ' Times '
from his pocket — to-day's number, containing a
review of the 'Scenes of Clerical Life.' He had
happened to ask a gentleman in the railway car-
riage coming up to London to allow him to look at
the ' Times,' and felt quite agitated and tremulous
when his eyes alighted on the review. Finding he
had time to go into town before the train started,
he bought a copy there. It is a highly favourable
notice, and, as far as it goes, appreciatory.

VOL. IL A

2 Opinions of 'Clerical Scenes.' [Richmond,

Journal, When G. went into town he called at Nutt's, and

1858. Mrs Nutt said to him, " I think you don't know our

curate, ffe says the author of * Clerical Scenes ' is
a High Churchman ; for though Mr Tryan is said
to be Low Church, his feelings and actions are
those of a High Churchman." (The curate him-
self being of course High Church.) There were
some pleasant scraps of admiration also gathered
for me at Vernon Hill. Doyle happening to men-
tion the treatment of children in the stories, Helps
said — " Oh, he is a great writer ! "

I wonder how I shall feel about these little
details ten years hence, if I am alive. At present
I value them as grounds for hoping that my writ-
ing may succeed, and so give value to my life:
as indications that I can touch the hearts of my
fellow-men, and so sprinkle some precious grain as
the result of the long years in which I have been
inert and suffering. But at present fear and trem-
bling still predominate over hope.

Jan. 5. — To-day the * Clerical Scenes ' came in
their two-volume dress, looking very handsome.

Jan. 8. — News of the subscription — 580, with a
probable addition of 25 for Longmans. Mudie has
taken 350. When we used to talk of the probable
subscription, G. always said, " I daresay it will be

1858.] AtUhor's Presentation Copies. 3

250!" (The final number subscribed for was Journal,

OOU.) 1858.

I ordered copies to be sent to the following
persons— Froude, Dickens, Thackeray, Tennyson,
Buskin, Faraday, the author of ' Companions of my
Solitude,' Albert Smith, Mrs Carlyle.

On the 20th of January I received the following
letter from Dickens.

"Tavistock House, London,
Monday y 17th Jan, 1858.

"My dear Sir, — I have been so strongly Letter from

Charles

affected by the two first tales in the book you Dickens

to George

have had the kindness to send me, through Eiiot, ihtii

Jan. 1868.

Messrs Blackwood, that I hope you will excuse
my writing to you to express my admiration
of their extraordinary merit. The exquisite
truth and delicacy, both of the humour and the
pathos of these stories, I have never seen the
like of; and they have impressed me in a
manner that I should find it very difficult to
describe to you, if I had the impertinence to try.
" In addressing these few words of thankful-
ness to the creator of the Sad Fortunes of the
Eev. Amos Barton, and the sad love-story of
Mr Gilfil, I am (I presume) bound to adopt the

Dickens recognises Woman's Hand, [RICHMOND,

Letter from
Charles
Dickens
to George
Eliot, 18th
Jao. 1858.

name that it pleases that excellent writer to
assume. I can suggest no better one: but I
should have been strongly disposed, if I had
been left to my own devices, to address the
said writer as a woman. I have observed what
seemed to me such womanly touches in those
moving fictions, that the assurance on the title-
page is insufficient to satisfy me even now. If
they originated with no woman, I believe that
no man ever before had the art of making himself
mentally so like a woman since the world began.
" You will not suppose that I have any vul-
gar wish to fathom your secret. I mention the
point as one of great interest to me — not of
mere curiosity. If it should ever suit your
convenience and inclination to show me the
face of the man, or woman, who has written so
charmingly, it will be a very memorable occa-
sion to me. If otherwise, I shall always hold
that impalpable personage in loving attach-
ment and respect, and shall yield myself up to
all future utterances from the same source, with
a perfect confidence in their making me wiser
and better. — Tour obliged and faithful servant
and admirer, Charles Dickens.

"George Eliot, Esq."

1858.] Froude's Opinion. 5

Jan. 21. — To-day came the following letter from joonui,
Froude.

"NoRTHDowN House, BrosFORD,
I7th Jan. 1868.

"Dear Sir, — I do not know when I have Letter fwmi
experienced a more pleasant surprise than when, to G«oi«e

, , , ^ . T Elioi, 17th

on openmg a book parcel two mommgs ago, I jwu 1868.
found it to contain 'Scenes of Clerical Life,'
' From the author.' I do not often see * Black-
wood ; ' but in accidental glances I had made
acquaintance with 'Janet's Eepentance,' and
had found there something extremely different
from general magazine stories. When I read
the advertisement of the republication, I in-
tended fully, at my leisure, to look at the com-
panions of the story which had so much struck
me, and now I find myself sought out by the
person whose workmanship I had admired, for
the special present of it.

"You would not, I imagine, care much for
flattering speeches ; and to go into detail about
the book would carry me farther than at present
there is occasion to go. I can only thank you
most sincerely for the delight which it has given
me ; and both I myself, and my wife, trust that
the acquaintance which we seem to have made

6 Wm. Smith, AtUhor of 'ThomdaW [RICHMOND,
Letter from with you through youi writings may improve

J. A. Froude

t« George into Something more tangible. I do npt know

Eliot, 17th

Jan. 1868. whcther I am addressing a young man or an

old — a clergyman or a layman. Perhaps, if you
answer this note, you may give us some infor-
mation about yourself. But at any rate, should
business or pleasure bring you into this part of
the world, pray believe that you will find a
warm welcome if you will accept our hospi-
tality. — Once more, with my best thanks, believe
me, faithfully yours, J. A. Froude."

letter to I have long ceased to feel any sympathy with mere

Miss Sara

Henneii, autagouism and destruction; and all crudity of

17th Jan. _ , . ,

1858. expression marks, I think, a deficiency in subtlety

of thought as well as in breadth of moral and
poetic feeling. Mr William Smith, the author of
* Thomdale,' is an old acquaintance of Mr Lewes's.
I should say an old friend, only I don't like the too
ready use of that word. Mr Lewes admires and
esteems him very highly. He is a very accom-
plished man — a bachelor, with a small independent
income; used to write very effective articles on
miscellaneous subjects in 'Blackwood.' I shall
like to know what you think of 'Thomdale.' I
don't know whether you look out for Ruskin's
books whenever they appear. His little book on

1858.] RuskirCs Writinff. 7

the 'Political Economy of Art' contains some mag- Letter to

MiMSan

nificent passages, mixed up with stupendous speci- Henneii,

- X 1 T. . , 17th Jan.

mens or arrogant absurdity on some economical ism.
points. But I venerate him as one of the great
teachers of the day. The grand doctrines of truth
and sincerity in art, and the nobleness and solem-
nity of our human life, which he teaches with the
inspiration of a Hebrew prophet, must be stirring
up young minds in a promising way. The two last
volumes of 'Modem Painters' contain, I think,
some of the finest writing of the age. He is
strongly akin to the sublimest part of Wordsworth —
whom, by-the-by, we are reading with fresh admir-
ati(m for his beauties and tolerance for his faults.
Our present plans are: to remain here till about
the end of March, then to go to Munich, which I
long to see. We shall live there several months,
seeing the wonderful galleries in leisure moments.
Our living here is so much more expensive than
living abroad, that we save more than the expenses
of our journeying ; and as our work can be as well
done there as here for some months, we lay in
much more capital, in the shape of knowledge and
experience, by going abroad.
Jan, 18. — I have begun the 'Eumenides,' hav- joumai,

• 1858.

ing finished the ' Choephorse.' We are reading

8 Appreciation of Dickens* 8 Letter. [Richmond,
Journal, Wordswoith in the evening — ^at least G. is reading

1868.

him to me. I am still reading aloud Miss Mar-
tineau's History.
Letter to I am suTe you will be interested in Dickens's

John Black-
wood, 2i8t letter, which I enclose, begging you to return it as

Jan. 1858.

soon as you can, and not to allow any one besides
yourself and Major Blackwood to share in the
knowledge of its contents. There can be no harm,
of course, in every one's knowing that Dickens
admires the 'Scenes,' but I should not like any
more specific allusion made to the words of a
private letter. There can hardly be any climax
of approbation for me after this; and I am so
deeply moved by the finely -felt and finely -ex-
pressed sympathy of the letter, that the iron mask
of my incognito seems quite painful in forbidding
me to tell Dickens how thoroughly his generous
impulse has been appreciated. If you should have
an opportunity of conveying this feeling of mine to
him in any way, you would oblige me by doing
so. By'-the-by, you probably remember sending
me, some months ago, a letter from the Eev. Archer
Gumey — a very warm, simple-spoken letter — prais-
ing me for qualities which I most of all care to be
praised for. I should like to send him a copy of
the 'Scenes,' since I could make no acknowledg-

Mrs CarlyUs Thanks, 9

ment of his letter in any other way. I don't know
his address, but perhaps Mr Langford would be
good enough to look it out in the Clergy List
Jan. 23. — ^There appeared a well - written and Jonmij.

1868.

enthusiastic article on 'Clerical Scenes' in the
' Statesman.' We hear there was a poor article in
the ' Globe ' — of feebly written praise — ^the previous
week, but beyond this, we have not yet heard of
any notices from the press.

Jan. 26. — Came a very pleasant letter from Mrs
Carlyle, thanking the author of 'Clerical Scenes'
for the present of his book, praising it very highly,
and saying that her husband had promised to read
it when released from his mountain of history.

"6 Chetne Kow, Chelsea,
2\st Jan. 1858.

"Dear Sir, — I have to thank you for a Letter from

, . , V ,- . Mrs Carlyle

surprise, a pleasure, and a — consolation (!) all m toOeoiBe

Eliot, 21st

one book ! And I do thank you most sincerely. Jan. isss.
I cannot divine what inspired the good thought
to send me your book, since (if the name on
the title-page be your real name) it could not
have been personal regard ; there has never
been a George Eliot among my friends or ac-
quaintance. But neither, I am sure, could you

1 Consolation of a ''New Novel!' [RICHMOND,

Letter from divine the circumstances under which I should

Mrs Carlyle

to George read the book, and the particular benefit it

Eliot, 21st , « T 1 .

Jan. 1858. should coufcr ou me ! I read it — at least the

first volume — during one of the most (physic-
ally) wretched nights of my life ; sitting up in
bed, unable to get a wink of sleep for fever and
sore throat, and it helped me through that
dreary night as well — ^better than — the most
sympathetic helpful friend watching by my
bedside could have done !

"You will believe that the book needed to
be something more than a "new novel" for
me; that I could at my years, and after so
much reading, read it in positive torment, and
be beguiled by it of the torment ! that it needed
to be the one sort of book, however named, that
still takes hold of me, and that grows rarer
every year — a human book — written out of the
heart of a live man, not merely out of the brain
of an author — full of tenderness and pathos,
without a scrap of sentimentality, of sense
without dogmatism, of earnestness without
twaddle — a book that makes one feel friends at
once and for always with the man or woman
who wrote it!

" In guessing at why you gave me this good

1858.] Mrs Carlyle's Conception of G. Eliot. 1 1

gift, I have thought amongst other things, * Ob, Letter from

MrsCariyle

perhaps it was a delicate way of presenting the to oeorge

Eliot, 21st

novel to my husband, he being over head and Jan. ms.
ears in history.' If that was it, I compliment
you on your tact! for my husband is much
Mkelier to read the 'Scenes' on my responsi-
bility than on a venture of his own — though,
as a general rule, never opening a novel, he has
engaged to read this one whenever he has some
leisure from his present task.

" I hope to know some day if the person I am
addressing bears any resemblance in external
things to the idea I have conceived of him in
my mind — a man of middle age, with a wife,
from whom he has got those beautiful feminine
touches in his book — a good many children,
and a dog that he has as much fondness for
as I have for my little Nero ! For the rest —
not just a clergyman, but brother or first cousin
to a clergyman ! How ridiculous all this m/iy
read beside the reahty. Anyhow — I honestly
confess I am very curious about you, and look
forward with what Mr Carlyle would call ' a
good, healthy, genuine desire ' to shaking hands
with you some day. — In the meanwhile, I re-
main, your obliged Jane W. Carlyle."

12

Faradai/s Thanks, [RICHMOND,

Journal,

1858.

Jan. 30. — ^Eeceived a letter from Faraday, thank-
ing me very gracefully for the present of the
'Scenes/ Blackwood mentions, in enclosing this
letter, that Simpkin & Marshall have sent for
twelve additional copies — the first sign of a move
since the subscription. Tlie other night we looked
into the life of Charlotte Bronte, to see how long it
was before ' Jane Eyre ' came into demand at the
libraries, and we found it was not until six weeks
after publication. It is just three weeks now since
I heard news of the subscription for my book.

Letter from
M. Faraday
to George
Eliot, 28th
Jan. 1858.

" EoYAL Institution, 28<A Jan, 1868.
" Sir, — I cannot resist the pleasure of thank-
ing you for what I esteem a great kindness:
the present of your thoughts embodied in the
two volumes you have sent me. They have
been, and will be again, a very pleasant relief
from mental occupation among my own pur-
suits. Such rest I find at times not merely
agreeable, but essential. — ^Again thanking you,
I beg to remain, your very obliged servant,

M. Faraday.
" George Eliot, Esq., &c, &c,"

Journal,
1858.

Feb. 3. — Gave up Miss Martineau's History last
night, after reading some hundred pages in the

1868.] Favcmrable Opinions, 13

second volume. She has a sentimental, rhetorical Journal,

1868.

style in this history which is fatiguing and not
instructive. But her history of the Reform move-
ment is very interesting.

Feb, 4 — ^Yesterday brought the discouraging news,
that though the book is much talked of, it moves
veiy slowly. Finished the 'Eumenides.' Bessie
Parkes has written asking me to contribute to the
'Englishwoman's Journal,' a new monthly, which,
she says, "We are beginning with £1000, and
great social interest"

Feb, 16. — To-day G. went into the City and saw
Langford, for the sake of getting the latest news
about our two books — ^his * Sea-side Studies * having
been well launched about a fortnight or ten days
ago, with a subscription of 800. He brought home
good news. The ' Clerical Scenes ' are moving off
at a moderate but steady pace. Langford remarked,
that while the press had been uniformly favourable,
not one critical notice had appeared. G. went to
Parker's in the evening, and gathered a little
gossip on the subject. Savage, author of the
* Falcon Family,' and now editor of the ' Examiner/
said he was reading the ' Scenes ' — ^had read some
of them already in ' Blackwood,' but was now read-
ing the volume. " G, Eliot was a writer of great

14 George Eliot refoealed to Blcickwood. [Richmond,
Journal, merit." A barrister named Smythe said he had

1858.

seen "the Bishop" reading them the other day.
As a set-off against this, Mrs Schlesinger " couldn't
bear the book." She is a regular novel reader ; but
hers is the first unfavourable opinion we have had.

Feb. 26. — ^We went into town for the sake of
seeing Mr and Mrs Call, and having our photo-
graphs taken by Mayall.

Fel, 28. — Mr John Blackwood called on us,
having come to London for a few days only. He
talked a good deal about the ' Clerical Scenes ' and
George Eliot, and at last asked, " Well, am I to see
George Eliot this time ? " G. said, " Do you wish
to see him ? " " As he likes — I wish it to be quite
spontaneous." I left the room, and G. following
me a moment, I told him he might reveal me.
Blackwood was kind, came back when he found he
was too late for the train, and said he would come
to Eichmond again. He came on the following
Friday and chatted very pleasantly — ^told us that
Thackeray spoke highly of the ' Scenes,' and said
they were not written hy a woman. Mrs Blackwood
is sure they are not written by a woman. Mrs
Oliphant, the novelist, too, is confident on the same
side. I gave Blackwood the MS. of my new novel,
to the end of the second scene in the wood. He

1858.] Delight in Mr Lewes* s Books. 15

opened it, read the first page, and smiling, said, jonimi,

1858.

"This will do." We walked with him to Kew,
and had a good deal of talk. Found, among other
things, that he had lived two years in Italy when
he was a youth, and that he admires Miss Austen.

Since I wrote these last notes, several encourag-
ing fragments of news about the * Scenes ' have
come to my ears — especially that Mrs Owen Jones
and her husband — ^two very diflferent people — are
equally enthusiastic about the book. But both
have detected the woman.

Perhaps we may go to Dresden, perhaps not: Letter to

^ '' ^ x- r Miss Sara

we leave room for the imprSmi, which Louis Blanc Henneii, 2d

March 1858.

found so sadly wanting in Mr Morgan's millennial
village. You are among the exceptional people who
say pleasant things to their friends, and don't feel
a too exclusive satisfaction in their misfortunes.
We like to hear of your interest in Mr Lewes's
books — at least, / am very voracious of such
details. I keep the pretty letters that are written
to him; and we have had some really important
ones from the scientific big-wigs about the * Sea-side
Studies.' The reception of the book in that quarter
has been quite beyond our expectations. Eight
hundred copies were sold at once. There is a great
deal of close hard work in the book, and every one

16

On the Death of a Mother. [Richmond,

Letter to
Miss Sara
Hennell, 2d
March 1858.

Letter to
Miss Sara
HennelU
26th March

1858.

who knows what scientific work is necessarily per-
ceives this. Happily many have been generous
enough to express their recognition in a hearty way.

I enter so deeply into everything you say about
your mother. To me that old, old popular truism,
" We can never have but one mother," has worlds
of meaning in it, and I think with more sympathy
of the satisfaction you feel in at last being allowed
to wait on her than I should of anything else you
could tell me. I wish we saw more of that sweet
human piety that feels tenderly and reverently
towards the aged. [Apropos of some incapable
woman's writing she adds.] There is something
more piteous almost than soapless poverty in this
application of feminine incapacity to literature.
We spent a very pleasant couple of hours with Mr
and Mrs Call last Friday. It was worth a journey
on a cold dusty day to see two faces beaming kind-
ness and happiness.

I enclose a letter which will interest you. It is
affecting to see how difficult a matter it often is for
the men who would most profit by a book to pur-
chase it, or even get a reading of it, while stupid
Jopling of Eeading or elsewhere thinks nothing of
giving a guinea for a work which he will simply
put on his shelves.

1858.] RuTTumrs of Authorship. 1 7

When do you bring out your new poem? I Letter to

Clus. Brmjr,

presume you are already in the sixth canto. It is March i858
true you never told me you intended to write a
poem, nor have I heard any one say so who was
likely to know. Nevertheless I have quite as
active an imagination as you, and I don't see why
I shouldn't suppose you are writing a poem as well
as you suppose that I am writing a noveL Seri-
ously, I wish you would not set rumours afloat
about me. They are injurious. Several people,
who seem to derive their notions from Ivy Cottage,^
have spoken to me of a supposed novel I was
going to bring out. Such things are damaging to
me.
Thanks for your disclaimer. It shows me that Letter i«

Chas. Bray,

you take a right view of the subject. There is no sist March

1858.

undertaking more fruitful of absurd mistakes than
that of "guessing" at authorship; and as I have
never conamunicated to any one so much as an
intention of a literary kind, there can be none but
imaginary data for such guesses. If I withhold
anything from my friends which it would gratify
them to know, you will believe, I hope, that I have
good reasons for doing so, and I am sure those
friends will understand me when I ask them to

^ The Brays' new house.
VOL. n* B

18 BlackwoocCs Praise of 'Adam Bede! [Richmond,

Letter to
Chas. Bray,
31st March
1858.

Jonmal,

1858.

Journal,
April 1858.

further my object — which is not a whim but a
question of solid interest — ^by complete silence. I
can't afford to indulge either in vanity or sentimen-
tality about my work. I have only a trembling
anxiety to do what is in itself worth doing, and by
that honest means to win very necessary profit of
a temporal kind. "There is nothing hidden that
shall not be revealed " in due time. But till that
time comes — tiU I teU you myself, "This is the
work of my hand and brain " — don't believe any-
thing on the subject. There is no one who is in
the least likely to know what I can, could, should,
or would write.

April 1, 1858. — Eeceived a letter from Black-
wood containing warm praise of 'Adam Bede/ but
wanting to know the rest of the story in outline
before deciding whether it should go in the Maga-
zine. I wrote in reply refusing to tell him the
story.

On Wednesday evening, April 7th, we set oflf on
our journey to Munich, and now we are comfort-
ably settled in our lodgings, where we hope to re-
main three months at least. I sit down in my
first leisure moments to write a few recollections
of our journey, or rather of our twenty-four hours'
stay at Nurnberg ; for the rest of our journey was

1858.] Journey to Munich. 19

mere endurance of railway and steamboat in cold joumai.

1 , _ - . -r , April 1868.

and sombre weather, often ramy. I ought to ex-
cept our way from Frankfort to Nurnberg, which
lay for some distance — ^until we came to Bamberg
—through a beautifully varied country. Our view
both of Wiirzburg and Bamberg, as we hastily
snatched it from our railway carriage, was very
striking — great old buildings, crowning heights
that rise up boldly from the plain in which stand
the main part of the towns. From Bamberg to
Ntimberg the way lay through a wide rich plain
sprinkled with towns. We had left all the hills
behind us. At Bamberg we were joined in our
carriage by a pleasant-looking, elderly couple who
spoke to each other and looked so aflfectionately,
that we said directly, ** Shall we be so when we are
old ? " It was very pretty to see them hold each
others' gloved hands for a minute like lovers. As
soon as we had settled ourselves in our inn at
Ntimberg — ^the Baierische Hof — we went out to
get a general view of the town. Happily it was
not raining, though there was no sun to light up
the roof and windows.

How often I had thought I should like to see
Nurnberg, and had pictured to myself narrow streets
with dark quaint gables ! The reality was not at

20 Description of Niimberff. [MUNICH,

Journal, all like my picture, but it was ten times better.

April 1868.

No sombre colouring, except the old churches : all
was bright and varied, each fagade having a differ-
ent colour — delicate green, or buff, or pink, or
lilac — every now and then set off by the neighbour-
hood of a rich reddish brown. And the roofs
always gave warmth of colour with their bright
red or rich purple tiles. Every house differed from
its neighbour, and had a physiognomy of its own,
though a beautiful family likeness ran through
them all, as if the burghers o£ that old city were of
one heart and one soul, loving the same delightful
outlines, and cherishing the same daily habits of
simple ease and enjoyment in their balcony-win-
dows when the day's work was done.

The balcony window is the secondary charm of the
Nurnberg houses ; it would be the principal charm
of any houses that had not the Niirnberg roofs and
gables. It is usually in the centre of the building,
on the first floor, and is ornamented with carved
stone or wood, which supports it after the fashion
of a bracket. In several of these windows we saw
pretty family groups — ^young fair heads of girls or
of little children, with now and then an older head
surmounting them. One can fancy that these win-
dows are the pet places for family joys — that papa

1858.] Nurriberg Roofs and Balconies. 21

seats himself there when he comes home from the Joonui,

1 1 1. "I April 1858.

warehouse, and the httle ones cluster round hmi in
no time. But the glory of the Niimberg houses is
the roofs, which are no blank surface of mere tiling,
but are alive with lights and shadows, cast by
varied and beautiful lines of windows and pinnacles
and arched openings. The plainest roof in Niim-
berg has its little windows lifting themselves up
like eyelids, and almost everywhere one sees the
pretty hexagonal tiles. But the better houses have
a central, open sort of pavilion in the roof, with a
pinnacle, surmounted by a weathercock. This pavil-
ion has usually a beautifully carved, arched opening
in front, set off by the dark background which is
left by the absence of glass. One fancies the old
Nlimbergers must have gone up to these pavilions
to smoke in the summer and autumn days. There
is usually a brood of small windows round this cen-
tral ornament, often elegantly arched and carved.
A wonderful sight it makes to see a series of such
roofs surmounting the tall, delicate-coloured houses.
They are always high-pitched, of course, and the
colour of the tiles was usually of a bright red. I
think one of the most charming vistas we saw was
the Adler-Gasse on the St Lorenz side of the town.
Sometimes, instead of the high-pitched roof, with

22 Frauen-Kirche, Nilrriberg, [MUNICH,

jonniai, its pavilion and windows, there is a richly orna-
mented gable fronting the street; and still more
frequently we get the gables at right angles with
the street at a break in the line of bouses.

Coming back from the Burg, we met a detach-
ment of soldiers, with their band playing, followed
by a stream of listening people; and then we
reached the market-place, just at the point where
stands "The Beautiful Fountain" — an exquisite
bit of florid Gothic, which has been restored in per-
fect conformity with the original. Eight before us
stood the Frauen-Kirche, with its fine and unusual
fagadef the chief beauty being a central chapel used
as the choir, and added by Adam Krafft. It is
something of the shape of a mitre, and forms a
beautiful gradation of ascent towards the summit
of the fafade. We heard the organ, and were
tempted to enter — ^for this is the one Catholic church
in Nurnberg. The delicious sound of the organ
and voices drew us farther and farther in among
the standing people, and we stayed there I don't
know how long, till the music ceased. How the
music warmed one's heart ! I loved the good people
about me, even to the soldier who stood with his
back to us, giving us a full view of his close-cropped
head, with its pale -yellowish hair standing up in

1858.] Effect of Catholic ''Function^ 23

bristles on the crown, as if his hat had acted like Jounuo.

rm , ,. , , . April 1868.

a forcing-pot. Then there was a httle baby in a
close-fitting cap on its little round head, looking
round with bright black eyes as it sucked its bit of
bread. Such a funny little complete face — rich
brown complexion and miniature Eoman nose. And
then its mother Kfted it up that it might see the
rose-decked altar, where the priests were standing.
How music, that stirs all one's devout emotions,
blends everything into harmony — ^makes one feel
part of one whole which one loves all alike, losing
the sense of a separate self. Nothing could be
more wretched as art than the painted Saint
Veronica opposite me, holding out the sad face on
her miraculous handkerchief. Yet it touched me
deeply; and the thought of the Man of Sorrows
seemed a very close thing — ^not a faint hearsay.

We saw Albert Dlirer's statue by Eauch, and
Albert Diirer's house — a striking bit of old build-
ing, rich dark-brown, with a truncated gable and
two wooden galleries running along the gable end.
My best wishes and thanks to the artists who keep
it in repair, and use it for their meetings. The
vistas from the bridges across the muddy Pegnitz,
which runs through the town, are all quaint and
picturesque; and it was here that we saw some

24 Take Rooms at Munich. [Munich,

Journal, of the sMbUest-lookmg houses — ^abnost the only
^ ^ houses that carried any suggestion of poverty, and

even here it was doubtful. The Jbovm has an air of
cleanliness and wellbeing, and^one longs to call
one of those balconied apartments one's ovm home,
with their flower-pots, clean glass, clean curtains,
and transparencies turning their white backs to
the street. It is pleasant to think there is such a
place in the world where many people pass peaceful
lives.

On arriving at Munich, after much rambling, we
found an advertisement of " Zwei elegant moblirte
Zimmer," No. 15 Luitpold Strasse; and to our
immense satisfaction found something that looked
like cleanliness and comfort. The bargain was
soon made — ^twenty florins per month. So here we
came last Tuesday, the 13th April. We have been
taking sips of the Glyptothek and the two Pina-
cotheks in the morning, not having settled to
work yet. Last night we went to the opera — " Fra
Diavolo " — at the Hof -Theater. The theatre ugly,
the singing bad. Still, the orchestra was good, and
the charming music made itself felt in spite of
German throats. On Sunday, the 11th, we went to
the Pinacothek, straight into the glorious Eubens
Saal. Delighted afresh in the picture of " Samson

1858.] The FinacotJuk. 25

and Delilah," both for the painting and character of Journal,

April 1858.

the figures. Delilah, a magnificent blonde, seated in
a chair, with a transparent white garment slightly
covering her body, and a rich red piece of drapery
round her legs, leans forward, with one hand resting
on her thigh, the other, holding the cunning shears,
resting on the chair — a posture which shows to
perfection the full, round, living arms. She turns
her head aside to look with sly triumph at Samson,
—a tavniy giant, his legs caught in the red drapery,
shorn of his long locks, furious with the conscious-
ness that the Philistines are upon him, and that
this time he cannot shake them off. Above the
group of malicious faces a*nd grappling arms, a hand
holds a flaming torch. Behind Delilah, and grasp-
ing her arm, leans forward an old woman, with
hard features full of exultation.

This picture, comparatively small in size, hangs
beside the " Last Judgment," and in the corres-
ponding space, on the other side of the same
picture, hangs the sublime "Crucifixion." Jesus
alone, hanging dead on the Cross, darkness over
the whole earth. One can desire nothing in this
picture: the grand, sweet calm, of the dead face,
calm and satisfied amidst all the traces of anguish,
the real livid flesh, the thorough mastery with

26 "Bavaria'' in Theresim Wiese. [MUNICH,

Journal, which the whole form is rendered, and the isola-
tion of the supreme sufferer, make a picture that
haunts one like a remembrance of a friend's
deathbed.

April 12 (Monday). — ^After reading Anna Mary
Hewitt's book on Munich and Overbeck on Greek
art, we turned out into the delicious sunshine
to walk in the Theresien Wiese, and have our
first look at the colossal "Bavaria," the greatest
work of Schwanthaler. Delightful it was to get
away from the houses into this breezy meadow,
where we heard the larks singing above us. The
sun was still too high in the west for us to look
with comfort at the statue, except right in front
of it, where it eclipsed the sun; and this front
view is the only satisfactory one. The outline
made by the head and arm on a side view is
almost painfully ugly. But in front, looking up
to the beautiful, calm face, the impression it
produces is sublime. I have never seen anything,
even in ancient sculpture, of a more awful beauty
than this dark colossal head, looking out from a
background of pure, pale-blue sky. We mounted
the platform to have a view of her back, and then
walking forward, looked to our right hand and saw
the snow-covered Alps! Sight more to me than

1858.] Natural Beauty Preferred. 27

all the art in Munich, though I love the art Joanui.

April 1858.

nevertheless. The great, wide-stretching earth
and the all-embracing sky — ^the birthright of us
all — ^are what I care most to look at. And I feel
intensely the new beauty of the sky here. The
blue is so exquisitely clear, and the wide streets
give one such a broad canopy of sky, I felt
more inspirited by our walk to the Theresien
Platz than by any pleasure we have had in
Munich.

April 16. — On Wednesday we walked to the
Theresien Wiese to look at the " Bavaria " by sun-
set, but a shower came on and drove us to take
refuge in a pretty house built near the Ruhmes-
halle, whereby we were gainers, for we saw a
charming family group: a mother with her three
children — the eldest a boy with his book, the
second a three-year-old maiden, the third a sweet
baby-girl of a year and a half; two dogs, one a
mixture of the setter and pointer, the other a
turnspit; and a relation or servant ironing. The
baby cried at the sight of G. in beard and spec-
tacles, but kept her eyes turning towards him
from her mother's lap, every now and then seem-
ing to have overcome her fears, and then burst-
ing out crying anew. At last she got down and

28 Appreciation of Biobens, [MUNICH,

lifted the tablecloth to peep at his legs, as if to
see the monster's nether parts.
Letter to "We have been iust to take a sip at the two

Miss Sara ** ^

Henneii, Pinacotheks and at the Glyptothek. At present

17th April

1868. the Eubens Saal is what I most long to return

to. Eubens gives me more pleasure than any-
other painter, whether that is right or wrong.
To be sure, I have not seen so many pictures,
and pictures of so high a rank, by any other
great master. I feel sure that when I have
seen as much of Eaphael I shall like him better ;
but at present Eubens, more than any one else,
makes me feel that painting is a great art, and
that he was a great artist. His are such real,
breathing men and women, moved by passions^
not mincing and grimacing, and posing in mere
aping of passion! What a grand, glowing, force-
ful thing life looks in his pictures — ^the men such
grand-bearded, grappling beings, fit to do the work
of the world ; the women such real mothers. We
stayed at Niirnberg only twenty-four hours, and
I felt sad to leave it so soon. A pity the place be-
came Protestant, so that there is only one Catholic
church, where one can go in and out as one would.
We turned into the famous St Sebald's for a minute,
where a Protestant clergyman was reading in a cold,

1858.] Catholic wnd Protestant Worship. 29

formal way under the grand Gothic arches. Then Letter u>

MiMSara

we went to the Catholic church, the Frauen-Kirche, Henneii.
where the organ and voices were giving forth a isss.
glorious mass; and we stood with a feeling of
brotherhood among the standing congregation till
the last note of the organ had died out.
April 23. — Not being well enough to write, we Joum*i,

1858.

determined to spend our morning at the Glyp-
tothek and Pinacothek. A glorious morning —
all sunshine and blue sky. We went to the
Glyptothek first, and delighted ourselves anew
with the " Sleeping Faun," the " Satyr and Bacchus,"
and the " Laughing Faun " (" Fauno coUa Macchia ").
Looked at the two young satyrs reposing with
the pipe in their hands — one of them charming
in the boyish, good-humoured beauty of the face,
but both wanting finish in the limbs, which look
almost as if they could be produced by a turn-
ing-machine. But the conception of this often-
repeated figure is charming: it would make a
garden seem more peaceful in the sunshine.
Looked at the old Silenus too, which is excellent.
I delight in these figures, full of droll animation,
flinging some nature, in its broad freedom, in the
eyes of small-mouthed mincing narrowness.
We went into the modem Saal also, glancing on

30 Glyptotheh and Pinacothek. [MUNICH,

Journal, oui Way at the Cornelius frescoes, which seem to

1858.

me stiff and hideous. An Adonis, by Thorwaldsen,
is very beautiful.

Then to the Pinacothek, where we looked at
Albert Diirer's portrait again, and many other pic-
tures, among which I admired a group by Jordaens :
" A satyr eating, while a peasant shows him that he
can blow hot and cold at the same time ; " the old
grandmother nursing the child, the father with the
key in his hand, with which he has been amusing
baby, looking curiously at the satyr, the handsome
wife, still more eager in her curiosity, the quiet cow,
the little boy, the dog and cat — all are charmingly
conceived.

April 24. — ^As we were reading this afternoon,
Herr Oldenbourg came in, invited us to go to his
houjse on Tuesday, and chatted pleasantly for an
hour. He talked of Kaulbach, whom he has known
very intimately, being the publisher of the ' Eeineke
Fuchs.* The picture of the " Hunnen Schlacht " was
the first of Kaulbach's on a great scale. It created
a sensation, and the critics began to call it a " Welt-
geschichtliches Bild." Since then Kaulbach has
been seduced into the complex, wearisome, sym-
bolical style, which makes the frescoes at Berlin
enormous puzzles.

1858.] Kaulbach — Gendli — Bodenstedt. 31

When we had just returned from our drive in Jounui.

1858.

the Englische Garten, Bodenstedt pleasantly sur-
prised us by presenting himself. He is a charming
man, and promises to be a delightful acquaintance
for us in this strange town. He chatted pleasantly
with us for half an hour, .telling us that he is
writing a work, in five volumes, on the * Contem-
poraries of Shakspeare,' and indicating the nature
of his treatment of the Shakspearian drama — which
is historical and analytical. Presently he proposed
that we should adjourn to his house and have tea
with him ; and so we turned out all together in the
bright moonlight, and enjoyed his pleasant chat
until ten o'clock. His wife was not at home, but
we were admitted to see the three sleeping children
— one a baby about a year and a half old — a lovely
waxen thing. He gave the same account of Kaul-
bach as we had heard from Oldenbourg : spoke of
Genelli as superior in genius, though he has not
the fortune to be recognised : recited some of Her-
mann LiQgg's poetry, and spoke enthusiastically of
its merits. There was not a word of detraction
about any one — nothing to jar on one's impression
of him as a refined noble-hearted man.

Ajpril 27. — ^This has been a red-letter day. In
the morning Professor Wagner took us over his

32 Munich Celebrities. [MUNICH,

Journal, " Petiif acten Sammlung," giving us interesting ex-

1858.

planations ; and before we left him we were joined
by Professor Martins, an animated clever man,
who talked admirably, and invited us to his house.
Then we went to Kaulbach's studio, talked with
him, and saw with especial interest the picture he
is preparing as a present to the New Museum. In
the evening, after walking in the Theresien Wiese,
we went to Herr Oldenbourg's, and met Liebig the
chemist, Geibel and Heyse the poets, and Carri^re,
the author of a work on the Eeformation. Liebig
is charming, with well -cut features, a low quiet
voice, and gentle manners. It was touching to see
his hands, the nails black from the roots, the skin
all grimed.

Heyse is like a painter's poet, ideally beautiful ;
rather brilliant in his talk, and altogether pleasing.
Geibel is a man of rather coarse texture, with a
voice like a kettledrum, and a steady determination
to deliver his opinions on every subject that turned
up. But there was a good deal of ability in his
remarks.

April 30. — ^After calling on Frau Oldenbourg, and
then at Professor Bodenstedt's, where we played
with his charming children for ten minutes, we
went to the theatre to hear Prince Eadziwill's

ifTT

X

rL

1858.] Music of the "FatisC 33

music to the "Faust." I admired especially the Jonmia.

1858.

earUer part, the Easter-morning song of the spirits,
the Beggar's song, and other things, until after the
scene in Auerbach's cellar, which is set with much
humour and fancy. But the scene between Faust
11^-; and Marguerite is bad — *' Meine Euh ist hin " quite
n. ' pitiable, and the " Konig im Thule " not good.
Wi-" Gretchen's second song, in which she implores help
Lij of the Schmerzensreiche, touched me a good deal.

rr: ; Mat/ 1. — In the afternoon Bodenstedt called, and

I

Li ; we agreed to spend the evening at his house —
, ' a delightful evening. Professor Loher, author of
t,^' *Die Deutschen in America,' and another much
i younger Gelehrter, whose name I did not seize, were

i there.

iri May 2. — Still rainy and cold. We went to the

i Pinacothek, and looked at the old pictures in the

i; first and second Sfial. There are some very bad

tj and some fine ones by Albert Durer: of the latter,

[1, a full-length figure of the Apostle Paul, with the

J; head of Mark beside him, in a listening attitude, is

the one that most remains with me. There is a

very striking " Adoration of the Magi," by Johannes

van Eyck, with much merit in the colouring, per-

y spective, and figures. Also, "Christ carrying His

Cross," by Albert Durer, is striking. " A woman

VOL. n. c

34 Disappointment with Genelli, [MUNICH,

Journal, raised from the dead by the imposition of the

1858.

Cross," is a very elaborate composition, by Bohms,
in which the faces are of first-rate excellence.

In the evening we went to the opera and saw the
"NordStem."

May 10. — Since Wednesday I have had a
wretched cold and cough, and been otherwise ill,
but I have had several pleasures nevertheless. On
Friday, Bodenstedt called with Baron Schack to
take us to Genelli's, the artist of whose powers
Bodenstedt had spoken to us with enthusiastic
admiration. The result to us was nothing but dis-
appointment: the sketches he showed us seemed
to us quite destitute of any striking merit. On
Sunday we dined with Liebig, and spent the
evening at Bodenstedt's, where we met Professor
Bluntschli, the jurist, a very intelligent and agree-
able man, and Melchior Meyr, a maker of novels
and tragedies, otherwise an ineffectual personage.
Letter to Our life here is very agreeable — full of pleasant

Miss Sara

Henneu, uovclty, although wc take things quietly and ob-

lOthMay , . , . ,

1858. serve our working hours just as if we were at

Eichmond. People are so kind to us that we feel
already quite at home, sip baierisch Bier with great
tolerance, and talk bad German with more and
more aplomb. The place, you know, swarms with

1858.] Admiration of Liebig. 35

professors of all sorts — all grilndlich, of course, and Letter to

Miss Bum

•one or two of them great. There is no one we Henneii,

lOthlUy

are more charmed with than Liebig. Mr Lewes isss.
had no letter to him — we merely met him at an
•evening party; yet he has been particularly kind
to us, and seems to have taken a benevolent liking
to me. We dined with him and his family yester-
day, and saw how men of European celebrity may
put up with greasy cooking in private life. He
lives in very good Grerman style, however; has
^ handsome suite of apartments, and makes a
greater figure than most of the professors. His
manners are charming — easy, graceful, benignant,
And all the more conspicuous because he is so
quiet and low - spoken among the loud talkers
here. He looks best in his laboratory, with his
velvet cap on, holding little phials in his hand,
and talking of Kreatine and Kreatinine in the same
«asy way that well-bred ladies talk scandal. He
is one of the professors who has been called here by
the present king — ^Max — who seems to be a really
sensible man among kings : gets up at five o'clock
in the morning to study, and every Saturday even-
ing has a gathering of the first men in science
and Kterature, that he may benefit by their opinions
•on important subjects. At this Tafel-rund every

36 The "Tafel-rund:' [MUNICH,

Letter to man is required to say honestly what he thinks;

Miss Sara

Henneu. every one may contradict every one else; and if

lOthMay , , , - ,

1858. the kmg suspects any one of a polite insincerity,

the too polished man is invited no more. Liebig,
the tliree poets — Geibel, Heyse, and Bodenstedt —
and Professor Loher, a writer of considerable mark,
are always at the Tafd-rund as an understood
part of their functions ; the rest are invited accord-
ing to the king's direction. Bodenstedt is one of our
best friends here — enormously instructed, after the
fashion of Germans, but not at all stupid with it.

"We were at the Siebolds* last night to meet a
party of celebrities, and, what was better, to see
the prettiest little picture of married life — ^the great
comparative anatomist (Siebold) seated at the piano
in his spectacles playing the difficult accompani-
ments to Schubert's songs, while his little round-
faced wife sang them with much taste and feeling.
They are not young. Siebold is grey, and prob-
ably more than fifty — his wife perhaps nearly
forty; and it is all the prettier to see their ad-
miration of each other. She said to Mr Lewes,
when he was speaking of her husband, "Ja, er
ist ein netter Mann, nicht wahr?"^

We take the art in very small draughts at

1 " He is really a charming man, is he not ? "

1858.] Modem German Art. 37

present — the Grerman hours being difl&cult to Letter to

MiMSara

adjust to our occupations. We are obliged to dine Henneu,

lOthlUy

at one! and of course when we are well enough isss.
must work till then. Two hours afterwards all
the great public exhibitions are closed, except the
churches. I cannot admire much of the modem
German art. It is for the most part elaborate
lifelessness. Kaulbach's great compositions are
huge charades; and I have seen nothing of his
equal to his own " Reineke Fuchs.** It is an un-
speakable relief, after staring at one of his pictures —
the "Destruction of Jerusalem," for example, which
is a regular child's puzzle of symbolism — ^to sweep
it all out of one's mind, — which is very easily done,
for nothing grasps you in it, — and call up in your
imagination a little Gerard Dow that you have
seen hanging in a comer of one of the cabinets.
We have been to his atelier, and he has given
us a proof of his " Irrenhaus," ^ a strange sketch,
which he made years ago — very terrible and power-
ful He is certainly a man of great faculty, but
is, I imagine, carried out of his true path by the
ambition to produce " Weltgeschichtliche Bilder,"
which the German critics may go into raptures
about. His " Battle of the Huns," which is the most

1 Picture of interior of a Lunatic Asylum.

38 Professor Martins* s Family, [mukich.

Letter to impressive of all his great pictures, was the first of

Miss Sara . . , . . , -i i . •

Henneu, the senes. He painted it simply under the inspir-

lOth May

1858. ation of the grand myth about the spirits of the

dead warriors rising and carrying on the battle in
the air. Straightway the German critics began to
smoke furiously that vile tobacco which they call
cesthetik, declared it a " Weltgeschichtliches Bild,"
and ever since Kaulbach has been concocting these
pictures in which, instead of taking a single mo-
ment of reality and trusting to the infinite sym-
bolism that belongs to all nature, he attempts to
give you at one view a succession of events — each
represented by some group which may mean
"Whichever you please, my little dear."

I must tell you something else which interested
me greatly, as the first example of the kind that
has come under my observation. Among the awful
mysterious names, hitherto known only as marginal
references whom we have learned to clothe with
ordinary flesh and blood, is Professor Martins,
(Spix and Martins), now an old man, and rich
after the manner of being rich in Germany. He
has a very sweet wife — one of those women who re-
main pretty and graceful in old age — and a f-amily of
three daughters and one son, all more than grown up.
I learned that she is Catholic, that her daughters

1858.] Mixed Marriages, 39

are Catholic, and her husband and son Protestant — Letter to

Miss Sara

the children having been so brought up according Henneiu

lOth May

to the German law in cases of mixed marriage. I isss.
can't tell you how interesting it was to me to hear
her tell of her experience in bringing up her son
conscientiously as a Protestant, and then to hear
her and her daughters speak of the exemplary
priests who had shown them such tender fatherly
care when they were in trouble. They are the
most harmonious, affectionate family we have seen ;
and one delights in such a triumph of human good-
ness over the formal logic of theorists.
May 13. — Geibel came and brought me the two Journal,

1858>

volumes of his poems, and . stayed chatting for an
hour. "We spent the evening quietly at home.

May 14. — After writing, we went for an hour to
the Pinacothek, and looked at some of the Flemish
pictures. In the afternoon we called at Liebig's,
and he went a long walk with us — the long chain
of snowy mountains in the hazy distance. After
supper I read Geibers * Junius Lieder.'
. May 15. — Eead the 18th chapter of 'Adam
Bede * to G. He was much pleased with it Then
we walked in the Englische Garten, and heard the
band, and saw the Germans drinking their beer.
The park was lovely.

40 The Neue Pinacothek. [MUNICH,

Journal, May 16. — ^We were to have gone to Grosshesse-

1S58.

lohe with the Siebolds, and went to Frilhstiick with
them at 12, as a preliminary. Bodenstedt was
there to accompany us. But heavy rain came on,
and we spent the time till 5 o'clock in talking,
hearing music, and listening to Bodenstedt's ' Epic
on the Destruction of Novgorod.' About seven,
Liebig came to us and asked us to spend the
evening at his house. We went, and found Voel-
demdorflf, Bischoff and his wife, and Carri^re and
Frau.

May 20. — ^As I had a feeble head this morning,
we gave up the time to seeing pictures, and went
to the Neue Finacothek. A " Lady with Fruit, fol-
lowed by three Children," pleased us more than
ever. It is by Wichmann. The two interiors of
Westminster Abbey by Ainmueller admirable.
Unable to admire Eothmann*s Greek Landscapes,
which have a room to themselves. Ditto Kaul^
bach's "Zerstorung von Jerusalem."

We went for the first time to see the collection
of porcelain paintings, and had really a rich treat.
Many of them are admirable copies of great pic-
tures. The sweet "Madonna and Child," in
Eaphaers early manner: a "Holy Family," also
in the early manner, with a Madonna the exact

185a] The Bodmstedts. 41

type of the St Catherine ; and a " Holy Family " in Joumai,
the later manner, something like the "Madonna
della Sedia," are all admirably copied. So are
two of Andrea del Sarto's — full of tenderness and
calm piety.

May 23. — Through the cold wind and white dust
we went to the Jesuits' church to hear the music.
It is a fine church in the Eenaissance style, the
vista terminating with the great altar, very fine,
with all the crowd of human beings covering the
floor. Numbers of men !

In the evening we went to Bodenstedt's, and saw
liis wife for the first time — ^a delicate creature, who
sang us some charming Bavarian Volkdieder. On
Monday we spent the evening at Lohers' — Baum-
garten, ein junger Historiker, Oldenbourg, and the
Bodenstedts meeting us.

Dehcious Mai-trank, made by putting the fresh
Waldrneister — a cruciferous plant with a small
white flower, something like Lady's Bedstraw —
into mild wine, together with sugar, and occa-
sionally other things.

May 26. — ^This evening I have read aloud * Adam
Bede,* chap. xx. We have begun Ludwig's ' Zwis-
chen Himm«l und Erde.'

27. — We called on the Siebolds to-day.

42 Artistic Combinations in Writing. [MUNICH,

Journal, then Walked in the Theresien Wiese, and saw the

1868.

mountains gloriously. Spent the evening at Prof.
Martius's,. where Frau Erdl played Beethoven's
Andante and the Moonlight Sonata admirably.

May 28. — ^We heard from Blackwood this morn-
ing. Good news in general, but the sale of our
books not progressing at present.
Letter to It is invariably the case that when people dis-

John Black- "^ r r

wood, 28th cover certain points of coincidence in a fiction with

May 1868.

facts that happen to have come to their knowledge,
they believe themselves able to furnish a key to the
whola That is amusing enough to the author,
who knows from what widely sundered portions of
experience — from what a combination of subtle,
shadowy suggestions, with certain actual objects
and events, his story has been formed. It would
be a very diflBcult thing for me to furnish a key to
my stories myself. But where there is no exact
memory of the past, any story with a few remem-
bered points of character or of incident may pass
for a history.

We pay for our sight of the snowy mountains
here by the most capricious of climates. English
weather is steadfast compared with Munich weather.
You go to dinner here in summer and come away
from it in winter. You are languid among trees

1858.] The Munich Climate. 43

and feathery grass at one end of the town, and Letter to

. John Black-

are shivering in a humcane of dust at the other, wood, 28th

lUy 1S5S.

This inconvenience of climate, with the impossi-
bility of dining (well) at any other hour than one
o'clock, is not friendly to the stomach — ^that great
seat of the imagination. And I shall never ad-
^ise an author to come to Munich except ad
iTderim, The great Saal, full of Eubens's pic-
tures, is worth studying; and two or three pre-
cious bits of sculpture, and the sky on a fine
day, always puts one in a good temper — it is so
deliciously clear and blue, making even the ugliest
buildings look beautiful by the light it casts on
them.

May 30.— We heard "William Tell"— a great J«»>™*i'
enjoyment to me.

June 1. — To Grosshesselohe with a party. Siebold
and his wife. Prof. Loher, Fraulein von List, Frau-
lein Thiersch, Frau von Schaden and her pretty
daughter. It was very pretty to see Siebold's
dehght in nature. The strange whim of Schwan-
thaler's — the Burg von Schwaneck — was our
destination.

June 10. — ^For the last week my work has been
rather scanty, owing to bodily ailments. I am
at the end of chap, xxi., and am this morning

44 Sympathy with Miss Hennell [Munich,

Journal, going to begin chap. xxii. In the interim our

1858, , . • , ■, , . rM 1 1

chief pleasure has been a trip to Stamberg by our-
selves.

June 13. — This morning at last free from head-
ache, and able to write. I am entering on my his-
tory of the birthday, with some fear and trembling.
This evening we walked, between eight and half-
past nine, in the Wiese, looking toward Nymphen-
burg. The light delicious — the west glowing ; the
faint crescent moon and Venus pale above it ; tibie
larks filling the air with their songs, which seemed
only a little way above the ground.
Letter to Words are very clumsy things. I like less and

Miss Sara

Henneiu Icss to handle my friends* sacred feelings with them.

14th June

1858. For even those who call themselves intimate know

very little about each other — hardly ever know just
how a sorrow is felt, and hurt each other by their
very attempts at sympathy or consolation. We can
bear no hand on our bruises. And so I feel I have
no right to say that I know how the loss of your
mother — " the only person who ever leaned on you "
— affects you. I only know that it must make a
deeply-felt crisis in your life, and I know that the
better from having felt a great deal about my own
mother and father, and from having the keenest
remembrance of all that experience. But for this

1858.] on Mrs HenneWs Death. 45

very reason I know that I can't measure what the Lettwto
event is to you ; and if I were near you I should only Henneu,

14tb Jane

kiss you and say nothing. People talk of the feel- 1868.
ings dying out as one gets older ; but at present my
experience is just the contrary. All the serious re-
lations of life become so much more real to me —
pleasure seems so slight a thing, and sorrow and
duty and endurance so great. I find the least bit
of real human life touch me in a way it never did
when I was younger.
June 17. — This evening G. left me to set out on jourwa,

1868.

his journey to Hofwyl to see his boys.

JuTie 18. — ^Went with the Siebolds to Nymphen-
burg ; called at Professor Knapp's, and saw Liebig's
sister, Frau Knapp— a charming, gentle-mannered
woman, with splendid dark eyes.

JuTie 22. — ^Tired of loneliness, I went to the Frau
von Siebold, chatted with her over tea, and then
heard some music.

June 23. — My kind little friend (Frau von
Siebold) brought me a lovely bouquet of roses this
morning, and invited me to go with them in the
evening to the theatre to see the new comedy,
the "Drei Candidaten," which I did — a miserably
poor aflfair.

June 24. — G. came in the evening, at 10 o'clock

46

Leave for Dresden,

[MUNICH,

Journal,

1868.

Munich to

Dresden,

1858.

— after I had suffered a great deal in thinking
of the possibilities that might prevent him from
coming.

JuTie 25. — This morning I have read to G. all I
have written during his absence, and he approves
it more than I expected.

July 7. — This morning we left Munich, setting
out in the rain to Eosenheim by railway. The pre-
vious day we dined and sat a few hours with the
dear charming Siebolds, and parted from them with
regret — ^gla'd to leave Munich, but not to leave the
friends who had been so kind to us. For a week
before, I had been ill — almost a luxury, because of
the love that tended me. But the general languor
and sense of depression, produced by Munich air
and way of life, was no luxury, and I was glad to
say a last good-bye to the quaint pepper-boxes of
the Frauen-Kirche.

At the Eosenheim station we got into the long-
est of omnibuses, which took us to the Gasihofy
where we were to dine and lunch, and then mount
into the Stell-ioagenf which would carry us to
Prien, on the borders of the Chiem See. Eosen-
heim is a considerable and rather quaint-looking
town, interrupted by orchards, and characterised in
a passing glance by the piazzas that are seen every-

1858.] Journey hy Chiem See. 47

where fronting the shops. It has a grand view of Munich to
the mountains, still a long way off. The afternoon ism.
was cloudy, with intermittent rain, and did not set
ofif the landscape. Nevertheless I had much enjoy-
ment in this four or five hours' journey to Prien,
The little villages, with picturesque, wide gables,
projecting roofs, and wooden galleries — with abun-
dant orchards — with felled trunks of trees and
stacks of fir-wood, telling of the near neighbour-
hood of the forest — were what I liked best in this
ride.

. We had no sooner entered the steamboat to cross
the Chiem See than it began to rain heavily, and I
kept below, only peeping now and then at the moun-
tains and the green islands, with their monasteries.
From the opposite bank of the See we had a grand
view of the mountains, all dark purple under the
clouded sky.. Before us was a point where the
nearer mountains opened and allowed us a view of
their more distant brethren, receding in a fainter
and fainter blue — ^a marsh in the foreground, where
the wild-ducks were flying. Our drive from this
end of the lake to Traunstein was lovely — ^through
fertile, cultivated land, everywhere married to bits
of forest. The green meadow or the golden corn
sloped upwards towards pine woods, or the bushy

48 Traunstdn. [munich^

Munich to greenness seemed to run with wild freedom far outj

Dresden, . . , , .

1858. mto long promontories among the npening crops.

Here and there the country had the aspect of a
grand park from the beautiful intermingling of
wood and field, without any line of fence.

Then came the red sunset, and it was dark when
we entered Traunstein, where we had to pass the
night. Among our companions in the day's journey
had been a long-faced, cloaked, slow and solemn
man, whom George called the author of 'Eugene
Aram,' and I Don Quixote, he was so given to seri-
ous remonstrance with the vices he met on the road.
We had been constantly deceived in the length of
our stages — on the principle, possibly, of keeping up
our spirits. The next morning there was the same
tenderness shown about the starting of the StelU
wagen : at first it was to start at seven, then at half-
past, then when another Wagen came with its cargo
of passengers. This was too much for Don Quixote;
and when the stout, red-faced Wirth had given him
still another answer about the time of starting, he
began, in slow and monotonous indignation, " Warum
lugen sie so ? Sie werden machen dass kein Mensch
diesen Weg kommen wird," ^ &c. Whereupon the

1 *' Why do you teU such lies ? The result of it will be that no one
wiU travel this way."

J1858.] Salzburg. 49

^ktWirth looked red-faced, stout, and unwashed as Mnnichto

DrMden,

before, without any perceptible expression of face ism.

supervening.

The next morning the weather looked doubtful,
and so we gave up going to the Konig See for that
day, determining to ramble on the Monchsberg and
enjoy the beauties of Salzburg instead. The morn-
ing brightened as the sun ascended, and we had a
deUcious ramble on the Monchsberg — ^looking down
on the lovely, peaceful plain below the grand old
TJntersberg, where the sleeping Kaiser awaits his
resurrection in that " good time coming ; " watching
the white mist floating along the sides of the dark
mountains, and wandering under the shadow of the
plantation, where the ground was green with luxuri-
ant hawkweed, as at Nymphenburg, near Munich.
The outline of the castle and its rock is remarkably
fine, and reminded us of Gorey in Jersey. But we
had a still finer view of it when we drove out to
Aigen. On our way thither we had sight of the
Watzmann, the highest mountain in Bavarian Tyrol
— emerging from behind the great shoulder of the
TJntersberg. It was the only mountain within sight
that had snow on its summit. Once at Aigen, and
descended from our carnage, we had a deUcious
walk, up and up, along a road of continual steps, by

VOL. II. D

50 Description of Scefnery, [ischl,

Munifchto the course of the mountain-stream, which fell in a
1858. ' series of cascades over great heaps of boulders ; then
back again, by a roundabout way, to our vehicle
and home, enjoying the sight of old Watzmann
again, and the grand mass of Salzburg Castle on its
sloping rock.

We encountered a table-cCJidte acquaintance who
had been to Berchtesgaden and the Konig See, driven
through the salt-mine, and had had altogether a
perfect expedition on this day, when we had not
had the courage to set off. Never mind ! we had
enjoyed our day.

We thought it wisest the next morning to re-
nounce the Konig See, and pursue our wajr to Ischl
by the StelUwagen. We were fortunate enough to
secure two places in the coup4y and I enjoyed
greatly the quiet outlook, from my comfortable
comer, on the changing landscape — ^green valley
and hill and mountain ; here and there a pictur-
esque Tyrolese village, and once or twice a fine
lake.

The greatest charm of charming Ischl is the
crystal Traun, surely the purest of streams.
Away again early the next morning in the coup4
of the Stell'Wagen, through a coimtry more and
more beautiful, high woody mountains sloping

1858.] The Gnmnden See. 51

steeply down to narrow fertile green valleys, the Mtmiehto

. Dresden,

road wmding amongst them so as to show a per- isss.
petual variety of graceful outlines where the slop-
ing mountains met in the distance before us. As
we approached the Gmunden See, the masses be-
came grander and more rocky, and the valley
opened wider. It was Sunday, and when we left
the Stdl-wagen, we found quite a crowd in Sunday
clothes standing round the place of embarkation
for the steamboat that was to take us along the
lake. Gmunden is another pretty place at the
head of the lake, but apart from this one advan-
tage, inferior to Ischl. We got on to the slowest of
railways here, getting down at the station near the
falls of the Traun, where we dined at the pleasant
inn, and fed our eyes on the clear river again
hurrying over the rocks. Behind the great fall
there is a sort of inner chamber, where the water
rushes perpetually over a stone altar. At the
station, as we waited for the train, it began to
rain, and the good-natured -looking woman asked
us to take shelter in her little station-house, — a
single room not more than eight feet square, where
she Uved with her husband and two little girls all
the year round. The good couple looked more con-
tented than half the well-lodged people in the

62 Voyage dovm the Danube. [VIENNA,

Munich to world. He used to be a drozchky driver; and

Dresden,

1858. after that life of uncertain gains, which had many-

days quite penniless and therefore dinnerless, he
found his present position quite a pleasant lot.

On to Linz, when the train came, gradually losing
sight of the Tyrolean mountains and entering the
great plain of the Danube. Our voyage the next
day in the steamboat was unfortunate: we had
incessant rain till we had passed all the finest
parts of the banks. But when we had landed, the
sun shone out brilliantly, and so our entrance into
Vienna, through the long suburb, with perpetual
shops and odd names (Prschka, for example, which
a German in our onmibus thought not at all re-
markable for consonants !) was quite cheerful. We
made our way through the city and across the
bridge to the Weissen Eoss, which was full : so we
went to the Drei Eosen, which received us. The
sunshine was transient: it began to rain again
when we went out to look at St Stephen's, but the
delight of seeing that glorious building could not
be marred by a little rain. The tower of this
church is worth going to Vienna to see.

The aspect of the city is that of an inferior Paris ;
the shops have an elegance that one sees nowhere
else in Germany ; the streets are clean, the houses

1858.] Belvedere Pictures. 53

tall and stately. The next morning we had a view Munich to

of the town from the Belvedere Terrace — St Stephen's isss.

sending its exquisite tower aloft from among an

almost level forest of houses and inconspicuous

churches. It is a magnificent collection of pictures

at the Belvedere ; but we were so unfortunate as

only to be able to see them once, the gallery being

shut up on the Wednesday ; and so, many pictures

have faded from my memory, even of those which

I had time to distinguish. Titian's " Danae " was

one that delighted us: besides this, I remember

6iorgione*s " Lucrezia Borgia " with the cruel, cruel

eyes; the remarkable head of Christ; a proud

ItaUan face in a red garment, I think by Correggio;

and two heads by Denner, the most wonderful of

all his wonderful heads that I have seen. There is

an " Ecce Homo " by Titian, which is thought highly

of, and is splendid in composition and colour, but

the Christ is abject, the Pontius Pilate vulgar;

amazing that they could have been painted by

the same man who conceived and executed the

" Christo della Moneta " ! There are huge Veroneses,

too, splendid and interesting.

The Liechtenstein collection we saw twice, and
that remains with me much more distinctly — the
room full of Eubens*s history of Decius, more mag-

54 Hyrtl, the Anatomist. [vienna,

Munich to uificeiit even than he usually is in colour ; then his

Dresden, . . • » i

1858. glonous "Assumption of the Virgin, and opposite

to it the portraits of his two boys ; the portrait of
his lovely wife going to the bath, with brown
drapery round her ; and the fine portraits by Van-
dyke, especially the pale delicate face of Wallen-
stein with blue eyes and pale auburn locks.

Another great pleasure we had at Vienna — ^next
after the sight of St Stephen's and the pictures —
was a visit to Hyrtl, the anatomist, who showed us
some of his wonderful preparations, showing the
vascular and nervous systems in the lungs, liver,
kidneys, and intestinal canal of various animals.
He told us the deeply interesting story of the loss
of his fortune in the Vienna revolution of '48. He
was compelled by the revolutionists to attend on
the wounded for three days' running. When at
last he came to his house to change his clothes he
found nothing but four bare walls! His fortune
in Government bonds was burnt along with the
house, as well as all his precious collection of ana-
tomical preparations, &c. He told us that since
that great shock his nerves have been so suscep-
tible that he sheds tears at the most trifling events,
and has a depression of spirits which often keeps
him silent for days. He only received a very

1858.] Vienna to Pragtce, 55

slight sum from Grovermnent in compensation for Manich to

Dreaden
his loss. 1858.

One evening we strolled in the Volksgarten and
saw the " Theseus killing the Centaur " by Canova,
which stands in a temple built for its reception.
But the garden to be best remembered by us was
that at Schonbrunn, a labyrinth of stately avenues
with their terminal fountains. We amused our-
selves for some time with the menagerie here, the
lions especially, who lay in dignified sleepiness till
the approach of feeding-time made them open eager
eyes and pace impatiently about their dens.

We set off from Vienna in the evening with a
family of Wallachians as our companions, one of
whom, an elderly man, could speak no German, and
b^an to address G. in Wallachian, as if that were
the common language of all the earth. We man-
aged to sleep enough for a night's rest, in spite of
intense heat and our cramped positions, and arrived
in veiy good condition at Prague in the fine
morning.

Out we went after breakfast, that we might see
as much as possible of the grand old city in one
day ; and our morning was occupied chiefly in walk-
ing about and getting views of striking exteriors.
The most interesting things we saw were the Jewish

56 Sights of Prague. [PRAGUE,

Munich to burial-ground (the Alter Friedhof ) and the old syna-

Dresden, rm -r-i • ii i. • • . i •! -i -i

1858. gogue. The Fnedhof is unique — with a wild growth

of grass and shrubs and trees, and a multitude of
quaint tombs in all sorts of positions, looking like
the fragments of a great building, or as if they had
been shaken by an earthquake. We saw a lovely
dark-eyed Jewish child here, which we were glad
to kiss in all its dirt. Then came the sombre old
synagogue, with its smoked groins, and lamp for
ever burning. An intelligent Jew was our cicerone,
and read us some Hebrew out of the precious old
book of the law.

After dinner we took a carriage and went across
the wonderful bridge of St Jean Nepomuck, with
its avenue of statues, towards the Hradschin — an
ugly straight-lined building, but grand in effect
from its magnificent site, on the summit of an
eminence crowded with old massive buildings. The
view from this eminence is one of the most impres-
sive in the world — perhaps as much from one's
associations with Prague as from its visible grandeur
and antiquity. The cathedral close to the Hradschin
is a melancholy object on the outside — left with
unfinished sides like scars. The interior is rich,
but sadly confused in its ornamentation, like so
many of the grand old churches — ^hideous altars of

1858.] JouTTiey to Dresden. 57

bastard style disgracing exquisite Gothic columns Munich to

Dratden,

— cruelest of all in St Stephen's at Vienna ! ism.

We got our view from a Damen Stift ^ (for ladies
of family), founded by Maria Theresa, whose blond
beauty looked down on us from a striking portrait
Close in front of us, sloping downwards, was a pleas-
ant orchard ; then came the river, with its long, long
bridge and grand gateway ; then the sober-coloured
city, with its surrounding plain and distant hills. In
the evening we went to the theatre — ^a shabby, ugly
building — and heard Spohr's " Jessonda."

The next morning early by railway to Dresden —
a charming journey — for it took us right through
the Saxon Switzerland, with its castellated rocks
and firs. At four o'clock we were dining comfort-
ably at the Hotel de Pologne, and the next morning
(Sunday) we secured our lodgings — a whole apart-
ment of six rooms, all to ourselves, for 18s. per week !
By nine o'clock we were established in our new
home, where we were to enjoy six weeks' quiet
work, undisturbed by visits and visitors. And so
we did. We were as happy as princes — are not —
Greorge writing at the far comer of the great salon,
I at my Schrank in my own private room, with
closed doors. Here I wrote the latter half of the

1 Charitable Institution for Ladies,

58 Effect of Madonna di San Sisto. [Dresden,

Dresden, second volume of 'Adam Bede ' in the long mornings

1858. , , , . . . , , , T

that our early hours — rismg at six o clock — secured
us. Three mornings in the week we went to the
Picture Gallery from twelve till one. The first day
we went was a Sunday, when there is always a
crowd in the Madonna Cabinet. I sat down on the
sofa opposite the picture for an instant ; but a sort
of awe, as if I were suddenly in the living presence
of some glorious being, made my heart swell too
much for me to remain comfortably, and we hurried
out of the room. On subsequent mornings we
always came, in the last minutes of our stay, to look
at this sublimest picture ; and while the others, ex-
cept the " Christo della Moneta " and Holbein's Ma-
donna, lost much of their first interest, this became
harder and harder to leave. Holbein's Madonna is
very exquisite — a divinely gentle, golden-haired
blonde, with eyes cast down, in an attitude of uncon-
scious, easy grace — the loveliest of all the Madonnas
in the Dresden Gallery, except the Sistine. By the
side of it is a wonderful portrait by Holbein, which I
especially enjoyed looking at. It represents nothing
more lofty than a plain, weighty man of business,
a goldsmith ; but the eminently fine painting brings
out all the weighty, calm, good sense that lies in a
first-rate character of that order.

1858.] The Dresden Picture-Gallery. 59

We looked at the Zinsgroschen (Titian's), too, Dn»d«i,
every day, and after that at the great pamtersj
Venus, fit for its purity and sacred loveliness to
hang in a temple with Madonnas. Palma's Venus,
which hangs near, was an excellent foil, because
it is pretty and pure in itself; but beside the
Titian it is common and unmeaning.

Another interesting case of comparison was that
between the original Zinsgroschen and a copy by an
Italian painter, which hangs on the opposite wall of
the cabinet. This is considered a fine copy, and
would be a fine picture if one had never seen the
original ; but all the finest effects are gone in the
copy.

The four large Correggios hanging together, — the
Nmht; the Madonna with St Sebastian, of the
smiling graceful chatacter, with the little cherub
riding astride a cloud; the Madonna — with St
Hubert; and a third Madonna — very grave and
sweet, painted when he was nineteen, — ^remain with
me very vividly. They are full of life, though the
life is not of a high order; and I should have
surmised, without any previous knowledge, that the
painter was among the first masters of technique.
The Magdalen is sweet in conception, but seems to
have less than the usual merit of Correggio's pictures

60 Dresden Pictures. [DRESDEN,

Dresden, as to painting. A picture we delighted in extremely
was one of Murillo's — " St Eodriguez, fatally wound-
ed, receiving the Crown of Martyrdom." The atti-
tude and expression are sublime, and strikingly
distinguished from all other pictures of Saints I
have ever seen. He stands erect in his scarlet and
white robes, with face upturned, the arms held
simply downward, but the hands held open in a
receptive attitude. The silly cupid-like angel hold-
ing the martyr's crown in the comer spoils all.

I did not half satisfy my appetite for the rich
collection of Flemish and Dutch pictures here — for
Teniers, Eyckart, Gerard Dow, Terburg, Miens, and
the rest. Rembrandt looks great here in his por-
traits, but I like none of the other pictures* by him ;
the Ganymede is an ofifence. Guido is superlatively
odious in his Christs, in agonised or ecstatic atti-
tudes, — much about the level of the accomplished
London beggar. Dear, grand old Eubens does not
show to great advantage, except in the charming half-
length " Diana returning from Hunting," the " Love
Garden," and the sketch of his "Judgment of Paris."

The most popular Murillo, and apparently one of
the most popular Madonnas in the gallery, is the
simple, sad mother with her child, without the least
divinity in it, suggesting a dead or sick father, and

1858.] Life at Dresden, 61

imperfect nourishment in a garret. In that light it ore^icn,

1858

is touching. A fellow traveller in the railway to
Leipzig told us he had seen this picture in 1848
with nine bullet-holes in it ! The firing from the
hotel of the Stadt Eom bore directly on the Picture
Glallery.

Veronese is imposing in one of the large rooms —
the " Adoration of the Magi," the " Marriage at
Cana/' the " Finding of Moses/' &c., making grand
masses of colour on the lower part of the walls ; but
to me he is ignoble as a painter of human beings.

It was a charming life — our six weeks at Dres-
den. There were the open-air concerts at the
Grosser Garten and the Bnihrsche Terrace; the
Sommer Theater, where we saw our favourite comic
actor Merbitz; the walks into the open country,
with the grand stretch of sky all round; the
Zouaves, with their wondrous make-ups as women ;
Eader, the humorous comedian at the Sink'sche
Bad Theater ; our quiet afternoons in our pleasant
salon — all helping to make an agreeable fringe to
the quiet working time.

Since I wrote to you last I have lived through a Letter to

^ ° MissSara

great deal of exquisite pleasure. First an attack of Henneu,

28th July

illness during our last week at Munich, which I ms.
reckon among my pleasures because I was nursed

62 Happy Charvgefrom Munioh. [DRESDEN,

Letter to SO tenderly. Then a fortnight's unspeakable journey

Miss Sara

Henneii, to Salzburg, Ischl, Linz, Vienna, Prague, and finally

28th July '

1858. Dresden, which is our last resting-place before re-

turning to Eichmond, where we hope to be at the
beginning of September. . Dresden is a proper
climax ; for all other art seems only a preparation
for feeling the superiority of the Madonna di San
Sisto the more. We go three days a-week to the
gallery, and every day — after looking at other pic-
tures — ^we go to take a parting draught of delight at
Titian's Zinsgroschen and the Einzige Madonna. In
other respects I am particularly enjoying our resi-
dence here — we are so quiet, having determined to
know no one and give ourselves up to work. We
both feel a happy change in our health from leav-
ing Munich, though I am reconciled to our long
stay there by the fact that Mr Lewes gained so
much from his intercourse with the men of science
there, especially Bischoff, Siebold, and Harless. I
remembered your passion for autographs, and asked
Liebig for his on your account. I was not sure
that you would care enough about the handwriting
of other luminaries; for there is such a thing as
being European and yet obscure — a fixed star
visible only from observatories.

You will be interested to hear that I saw Strauss

1858.] Renewed Acquaintance ivith Strauss. 63

at Munich. He came for a week's visit before we Letto-to

MinSara

left. I had a quarter of an hour's chat with him Hcnneu,

28th July

alone, and was very agreeably impressed by him. 1868.
He looked much more serene, and his face had a
far sweeter expression, than when I saw him in
that dumb way at Cologne. He speaks with very
choice words, like a man strictly truthful in the
use of language. Will you undertake to teU Mrs
Call from me that he begged me to give his kindest
remembrances to her and to her father,^ of whom
he spoke with much interest and regard as his
earliest English friend ? I dare not begin to write
about other things or people that I have seen in
these crowded weeks. They must wait till I have
you by my side again, which I hope will happen
some day.

From Dresden, one showery day at the end of jounmi,
August, we set off to Leipzig, the first stage on our
way home. Here we spent two nights; had a
glimpse of the old town with its fine market ; dined
at Brockhaus's; saw the picture-gallery, carrying
away a lasting delight in Calame's great landscapes
and De Dreux's dogs, which are far better worth
seeing than De la Eoche's " Napoleon at Fontaine-
bleau " — considered the glory of the gallery ; went

1 Dt Brabant.

64

Betum Home,

[RICHMOND, I

Jonrnal,

1858.

Letter to
Miss Sara
Hennell,
5th Sept.
1858.

with Victor Carus to his museum and saw an
Amphioxus; and finally spent the evening at an
open-air concert in Carus's company. Early in
the morning we set oflf by railway, and travelled
night and day till we reached home on the 2d
September.

Will you not write to the author of * Thomdale '
and express your sympathy? He is a very diffi-
dent man, who would be susceptible to that sort of
fellowship ; and one should give a gleam of happi-
ness where it is possible. I shall write you nothing
worth reading for the next three months, so here is
an opportunity for you to satisfy a large appetite
for generous deeds. You can write to me a great
many times without getting anything worth having
in return.
Letter to Thauks for the verses on Buckle. I'm afraid I

Miss Sara

Henneii, 6th feel a malicious delight in them, for he is a writer

Oct. 1858.

who inspires me with a personal dislike: not to
put too fine a point on it, he impresses me as an
irreligious, conceited man.

Long ago I had ofifered to write about Newman,
but gave it up again.

The second volume of * Adam Bede ' had been
sent to Blackwood on 7th September, the third
had followed two months later, and there are

Td-

[£/{l*858.] *Adam Bede ' finished. 66

i ^f f the following entries in the Journal in Nov-
']r^i\ ember: —

hi:\^<^' 1. — I liave begun Carlyle's * life of Frederic Jounui,
[^Y^ the Great/ and have also been thinking much of
[]^\mj own life to come. This is a moment of sus-
pense, for I am awaiting Blackwood's opinion and
proposals concerning 'Adam Bede.'

Nov. 4. — ^Received a letter from Blackwood con-
tauiing warm praise of my third volume, and oflPering

£800 for the copyright of 'Adam Bede' for four

•■ f

t years. I wrote to accept.

r, i Nov. 10. — ^Wilkie Collins and Mr Pigott came to

c ' dine with us after a walk by the river. I was

' pleased with Wilkie Collins, — ^there is a sturdy

uprightness about him that makes all opinion and

all occupation respectable.

I N(yv. 16. — ^Wrote the last word of * Adam Bede'

and sent it to Mr Langford. Jubilaie.

The germ of 'Adam Bede' was an anecdote told nutoiyof

'Adam

me by my Methodist Aunt Samuel (the wife of my Bede.'
father's younger brother), — an anecdote from her
own experience. We were sitting together one
afternoon during her visit to me at GriflF, probably
* in 1839 or 1840, when it occurred to her to teU me
how she had visited a condemned criminal, — ^a very
ignorant girl, who had murdered her child and re-
VOL. II. E

66 The Basis of Real Incident, [Richmond,

History of fused to conf CSS ; how she had stayed with her'

'Adam

Bede.* praying through the night, and how the poor

creature at last broke out into tears, and confessed
her crime. My aunt afterwards went with her in
the cart to the place of execution ; and she described
to me the great respect with which this ministry of
hers was regarded by the official people about the
gaoL The story, told by my aunt with great feel-
ing, aflfected me deeply, and I never lost the im-
pression of that afternoon and our talk together ;
but I believe I never mentioned it, through all the
intervening years, till something prompted me to
tell it to George in December 1856, when I had
begim to write the * Scenes of Clerical Life/ He
remarked that the scene in the prison would make
a fine element in a story ; and I afterwards began
to think of blending this and some other recollec-
tions of my aunt in one story, with some points in
my father's early life and character. The problem
of construction that remained was to make the un-
happy girl one of the chief dramatis persoruB, and
connect her with the hero. At first I thought of
making the story one of the series of " Scries," but
afterwards, when several motives had induced me to
close these with " Janet's Repentance," I determined
on making what we always called in our conver-

185a] The Charajcter of Dinah. 67

totion "My Aunt's Story" the subject of a long Hirtoryof

'Adam

npvd, which I accordingly began to write on the Bede.*
22d October 1857.

The character of Dinah grew out of my recol-
lections of my aunt, but Dinah is not at all like
my aunt, who was a very small, black-eyed woman,
and (as I was told, for I never heard her preach)
very vehement in her style of preaching. She had
left off preaching when I knew her, being probably
sixty years old, and in delicate health ; and she had
become, as my father told me, much more gentle
and subdued than she had been in the days of her
active ministry and bodily strength, when she could
not rest without exhorting and remonstrating in
season and out of season. I was very fond of her,
and enjoyed the few weeks of her stay with me
greatly. She was loving and kind to me, and I
could talk to her about my inward life, which was
closely shut up from those usually round me. I saw
her only twice again, for much shorter periods, —
once at her own home at Wirksworth in Derbyshire,
and once at my father's last residence, FoleshilL

The character of Adam and one or two incidents
connected with him were suggested by my father's
early life; but Adam is not my father any more
than Dinah is my aunt. Indeed, there is not a

68 Mr Lewes' 8 Suggestions. [Richmond,

History of single portrait in 'Adam Bede ;' only the suggestions

'Adam

Bede.* of experience wrought up into new combinations.

When I began to write it, the only elements I had
determined on, besides the character of Dinah, were
the character of Adam, his relation to Arthur Don-
nithome, and their mutual relations to Hetty — i.«.,
to the girl who commits child-murder, — the scene
in the prison being, of course, the climax towards
which I worked. Everything else grew out of the
characters and their mutual relations. Dinah's
ultimate relation to Adam was suggested by Gteorge,
when I had read to him the first part of the first
volume : he was so delighted with the presentation
of Dinah, and so convinced that the readers' interest
would centre in her, that he wanted her to be the
principal figure at the last. I accepted the idea at
once, and from the end of the third chapter worked
with it constantly in view.

The first volume was written at Eichmond, and
given to Blackwood in March. He expressed great
admiration of its freshness and vividness, but
seemed to hesitate about putting it in the Maga-
zine, which was the form of publication he, as well
as myself, had previously contemplated. He still
wished to have it for the Magazine, but desired to
know the course of the story. At present he saw

1858.] Collision betiveen Arthur and Adam. 69

nothing to prevent its reception in 'Maga/ but he HUtoryof
would like to see more. I am uncertain whether B«ie.'
his doubts rested solely on Hetty's relation to
Arthur, or whether they were also directed towards
the treatment of Methodism by the Church. I
refused to tell my story beforehand, on the ground
that I would not have it judged apart from my
treatmerU, which alone determines the moral quality
of art ; and ultimately I proposed that the notion of
pubhcation. in * Maga ' should be given up, and that
the novel should be published in three volumes at
Christmas, if possible. He assented.

I began the second volume in the second week of
my stay at Munich, about the middle of April.
While we were at Munich, George expressed his
fear that Adam's part was too passive throughout
the drama, and that it was important for him to be
brought into more direct collision with Arthur.
This doubt haunted me, and out of it grew the
scene in the wood between Arthur and Adam ; the
fight came to me as a necessity one night at the
Munich opera, when I was listening to " William
Tell." Work was slow and interrupted at Munich,
and when we left I had only written to the begin-
ning of the dance on the Birthday Feast; but at
Dresden I wrote uninterruptedly and with great

70 Hetty's Jmmey. [Richmond,

History of enjoyment in the long, quiet mornings, and there I

'Adam

Bede.' nearly finished the second volume — all, I think, but
the last chapter, which I wrote here in the old
room at Eichmond in the first week of September,
and then sent the MS. oflf to Blackwood. The
opening of the third volume — Hetty's journey —
was, I think, written more rapidly than the rest of
the book, and was left without the slightest altera-
tion of the first draught. Throughout the book I
have altered little ; and the only cases I think in
which George suggested more than a verbal altera-
tion, when I read the MS. aloud to him, were the
first scene at the Farm, and the scene in the wood
between Arthur and Adam, both of which he re-
commended me to "space out" a little, which I
did.

When, on October 29, 1 had written to the end
of the love -scene at the Farm, between Adam
and Dinah, I sent the MS. to Blackwood, since the
remainder of the third volume could not afifect the
judgment passed on what had gone before. He
wrote back in warm admiration, and oflfered me, on
the part of the firm, £800 for four years' copyright
I accepted the offer. The last words of the third
volume were written and despatched on their way
to Edinburgh, November the 16th, and now on the

1868.] AtUhor's love of 'Adam Bede: 7 1

last day of the same month I have written this Hittoryof

•Adam

slight history of my book. I love it very much, Bede.*
and am deeply thankful to have written it, what- .
ever the public may say to it — a result which is
still in darkness, for I have at present had only
four sheets of the proof. The book would have
been published at Christmas, or rather early in
December, but that Bulwer's 'What will he do
with it?' was to be published by Blackwood at
that time, and it was thought that this novel might
interfere with mine.

The manuscript of 'Adam Bede' bears the
following inscription: — ^''To my dear husband,
George Henry Lewes, I give the MS. of a work
which would never have been written but for
the happiness which his love has conferred on
my life."
I shall be much obliged if you will accept for me Letter to
Tauchnitz's oflfer of £30 for the English reprint of wood, astii
* Clerical Scenes.' And will you also be so good as
to desire that Tauchnitz may register the book in
Grermany, as I understand that is the only security
against its being translated without our knowledge;
and I shudder at the idea of my books being turned
into hideous German by an incompetent translator.
I return the proofs by to-day's post. The dialect

72

The Dialect in 'Adam Bede' [Richmond,

Letter to must be toned down all through in correcting the

John Black* . ^ ,

wood, 26th proofs, for I found it impossible to keep it subdued
enough in writing. I am aware that the spelling
which represents a dialect perfectly well to those
who know it by the ear, is likely to be unintelli-
gible to others. I hope the sheets will come rapidly
and regularly now, for I dislike lingering, hesitat-
ing processes.

Your praise of my ending was very warming and
cheering to me in the foggy weather. I'm sure if I
have written well, your pleasant letters have had
something to do with it. Can anything be done in
America for ' Adam Bede ' ? I suppose not — as my
name is not known there.

Nov. 25. — ^We had a visit from Mr Bray, who
told us much that interested us about Mr Eichard
Congreve, and also his own affairs.

I am very grateful to you for sending me a few
authentic words from your own self. They are un-
speakably precious to me. I mean that quite liter-
ally, for there is no putting into words any feeling
that has been of long growth within us. It is easy
to say how we love Tiew friends, and what we think
of them, but words can never trace out all the fibres
that knit us to the old. I have been thinking
of you incessantly in the waking hours, and feel a

Journal,
1858.

Letter to
Mrs Bray,
26th Nov.
1858.

186a] Anxiety for the Brays. 73

growing hunger to know more precise details about Letter to
you. I am of a too sordid and anxious disposition, 26th Nov.'

1866.

prone to dwell almost exclusively on fears instead
of hopes, and to lay in a larger stock of resignation
than of any other form of confidence. But I try
to extract some comfort this morning from my con-
sciousness of this disposition, by thinking that
nothing is ever so bad as my imagination paints it.
And then I know there are incommunicable feelings
within us capable of creating our best happiness
at the very time others can see nothing but our
troubles. And so I go on arguing with myself,
and trying to live inside you and looking at things
in all the lights I can fancy you seeing them in, for
the sake of getting cheerful about you in spite of
Coventry.

The well-flavoured molluscs came this morning. Letter to

ChM. Bray,

It was very kind of you: and if you remember chrietnuw
how fond I am of oysters, your good-nature will
have the more pleasure in furnishing my gourman-
dise with the treat. I have a childish delight in
any little act of genuine friendliness towards us —
and yet not childish, for how little we thought of
people's goodness towards us when we were chil-
dren. It takes a good deal of experience to tell one
the rarity of a thoroughly disinterested kindness.

74 Mrs Poyser's DicUoffue, [RICHMOND,

Letter to' I 866 with jou entirely about the preface: in-

John Black-; . ■• i

wood, 28th deed I had myself anticipated the very effects you

Dec. 1868. ,.„,,, . ^ /

predict. The deprecatory tone is not one I can
ever take willingly, but I am conscious of a shrink-
ing sort of pride which is likely to warp my judg-
ment in many personal questions, and on that
ground I distrusted my own opinion.

Mr Lewes went to Vernon Hill yesterday for a
few days* change of air, but before he went, he
said, " Ask Mr Blackwood what he thinks of put-
ting a mere advertisement at the beginning of the
book to this effect : As the story of ' Adam Bede '
will lose much of its effect if the development is
foreseen, the author requests those critics who
may honour him with a notice to abstain from
telling the story." I write my note of interro-
gation accordingly " ? "

Pray do not begin to read the second volume
until it is all in print. There is necessarily a lull
of interest in it to prepare for the crescendo. I
am delighted that you like my Mrs Poyser. I'm
very sorry to part with her and some of my other
characters — there seems to be so much more to be
done with them. Mr Lewes says she gets better
and better as the book goes on ; and I was certainly
conscious of writing her dialogue with heightening

\^

1858.] Retrospect of 1868. 75

gusto. Even in our imaginaiy worlds there is the Letter to

John Black-

sorrow of parting. wood, ssth

Dec 1856

I hope the Christma43 weather is as bright in
your beautiful Edinburgh as it is here, and that
you are enjoying all other Christmas pleasures too
without disturbance.

I have not yet made up my mind what my next
story is to be, but I must not lie fallow any longer
when the new year is come.

Dec. 25 (^ChridmoA'Day). — Gteorge and I spent joumai,

1858.

this wet day very happily alone together. We are
reading Scott's life in the evenings with much en-
joyment. I am reading through Horace in this
pause.

Dec. 31. — The last day of the dear old year, which
has been full of expected and unexpected hap-
piness. 'Adam Bede' has been written, and the
second volume is in type. The first number of
George's ' Physiology of Common Life ' — ^a work in
which he has had much happy occupation — ^is pub-
lished to-day; and both his position as a scientific
writer and his inward satisfaction in that part of
his studies have been much heightened during the
past year. Our double life is more and more
blessed — more and more complete.

I think this chapter cannot more fitly con-

76 Mr Lewes on George Eliot, [RICHMOND,

elude than with the following extract from Mr
G. H. Lewes's Journal, with which Mr Charles
Lewes has been good enough to furnish me : —

" Jan, 28, 1859.— Walked along the Thames
towards Kew to meet Herbert Spencer, who was
to spend the day with us, and we chatted with
him on matters personal and philosophical. I
owe him a debt of gratitude. My acquaintance
with him was the brightest ray in a very
dreary, wasted period of my life. I had given
up all ambition whatever, lived from hand to
mouth, and thought the evil of each day suffici-
ent. The stimulus of his intellect, especially dur-
ing our long walks, roused my energy once more
and revived my dormant love of science. His
intense theorising tendency was contagious, and
it was only the stimulus of a theory which could
then have induced me to work. I owe Spencer
another and a deeper debt. It was through
him that I learned to know Marian — to know
her was to love her, — and since then my life
has been a new birth. To her I owe all my
prosperity and all my happiness. God bless
her I"

1858.] Summary of Chapter VIII. 77

SUMMARY.

JANUARY 1858 TO DECEMBER 1858.

* Times ' reviews * Scenes of Clerical Life ' — Helps's opin-
ion — Subscription to the 'Scenes' — Letter from Dickens,
18th Jan. 1858— Letter from Froude, 17th Jan.— Letter to
Miss Hennell— Mr Wm. Smith, author of «Thomdale'—
Ruskin — Beading the ' Eumenides * and Wordsworth — Let-
ter to John Blackwood on Dickens's Letter — Letter from Mrs
Carlyle — Letter from Faraday — 'Clerical Scenes' moving —
John Blackwood calls, and Qeorge Eliot reveals herself —
Takes MS. of first part of ' Adam Bede ' — Letters to Charles
Bray on reports of authorship— Visit to Germany — Descrip-
tion of Niimberg — The Frauen - Kirche — Effect of the
music — ^Albert Durer's house — Munich — Lodgings — Pina-
cothek — Rubens — Crucifixion — Theresien Wiese — Sch wan-
thaler's "Bavaria" — ^The Alps — Letter to Miss Hennell — Con-
trast between Catholic and Protestant worship — Glyptothek
— Pictures— Statues — Cornelius frescoes — Herr Oldenbourg
— Eaulbach — Bodenstedt — Professor Wagner — Martins —
Liebig — Geibel — Heyse — Carri^re — Prince Radziwill's
"Faust" — Professsr Loher — Baron Schack — Genelli — Pro-
fessor Bluntschli — Letter to Miss Hennell — Description of
Munich life — Eaulbach's pictures — The Siebolds — The
Neue Pinacothek — Pictures and porcelain painting — Mme.
Bodenstedt — Letter to Blackwood — Combinations of artist
in writing — Hears "William Tell" — Expedition to Qross-
hesselohe — Progress with 'Adam Bede' — Letter to Miss
Hennell on death of her mother — Mr Lewes goes to Hofwyl

78 Summary of Chapter VIIL [1868.]

— ^Frau Enapp — Mr Lewes returns — Leave Municli for
Traunstein — Salzburg — IscU — Linz — By Danube to Vienna
— St Stephen's— Belvedere pictures — Liechtenstein collection
— Hyrtl the anatomist — Prague — Jewish burial-gFound and
the old synagogue — To Dresden — Latter half of second vol-
ume of 'Adam Bede * written — First impression of Sistine Ma-
donna — "The Tribute-money" — Holbein's Madonna — The
Correggios — Dutch school — Murillo— Letter to Miss Hennell
— Description of life at Dresden — Health improved — Men-
tion of Strauss at Munich — Dresden to Leipzig — ^Home to
Richmond — Letter to Miss Hennell — Opinion of Buckle —
Blackwood offers £800 for 'Adam Bede '—Wilkie Collins
and Mr Pigott — History of * Adam Bede' — Letter to Charles
Bray — Disinterested kindness — Letter to Blackwood suggest-
ing preface to *Adam Bede' — Reading Scott's Life and
Horace — Review of year — Extract from G. H. Lewes's
Journal.

\

\

CHAPTER IX.

Jwd, 12. — ^We went into town to-day and looked Jonrwd.

1869.

in the * Annual Eegister ' for cases of inundation.
Letter from Blackwood to-day, speaking of renewed
delight in 'Adam Bede/ and proposing 1st Feb. as
the day of publication. Read the article in yester-
day's 'Times' on Geoige's 'Sea-side Studies' — ^highly
gratifying. We are still reading Scott's life with
great interest ; and G. is reading to me Michelet's
book ' De TAmour.'

Jan. 15. — ^I corrected the last sheets of ' Adam
Bede/ and we afterwards walked to Wimbledon to
see our new house, which we have taken for seven
years. I hired the servant — ^another bit of business
done: and then we had a delightful walk across
Wimbledon Common and through Richmond Park
homeward. The air was clear and cold — ^the sky
magnificent.

Jan. 31. — ^Received a cheque for £400 from

/

/

/

/

Journal,

Letter to
John Black-
wood, 8l8t
Jan. 1859.

80 Take Tiew House at Wandsworth. [Richmond,

Blackwood, being the first instalment of the pay-
ment for four years' copyright of 'Adam Bede/
To-morrow the book is to be subscribed, and Black-
wood writes very pleasantly — confident of its " great
success." Afterwards we went into town, paid
money into the bank, and ordered part of our china
and glass towards housekeeping.

Enclosed is the formal acknowledgment, bearing
my signature, and with it let me beg you to accept
my thanks — not formal but heartfelt — for the
generous way in which you have all along helped
me with words and with deeds.

The impression ' Adam Bede ' has made on you
and Major Blackwood — of whom I have always
been pleased to think as concurring with your
views — ^is my best encouragement, and counter-
balances, in some degree, the depressing influences
to which I am peculiarly sensitive. I perceive
that I have not the characteristics of the "popu-
lar author," and yet I am much in need of the
warmly expressed sympathy which only popularity
can win.

A good subscription would be cheering, but I
can understand that it is not decisive of success or
non-success. Thank you for promising to let me
know about it as soon as possible.

1859.] Subscription to 'Adam Bede! 81

Feb. 6. — ^Yesterday we went to take possession jounuo.

1869.

of Holly Lodge, Wandsworth, which is to be our
dwelling, we expect, for years to come. It was a
deliriously fresh bright day — I will accept the
omen. A letter came from Blackwood telling me
the result of the subscription to 'Adam Bede,'
which was published on the 1st.: 730 copies,
Mudie having taken 500 on the publisher's terms
— i.e., ten per cent on the sale price. At first
he had stood out for a larger reduction, and
would only take 50, but at last he came round.
In this letter Blackwood told me the first ab
extra opinion of the book, which happened to
be precisely what I most desired. A cabinet-
maker (brother to Blackwood's managing clerk)
had read the sheets, and declared that the writer
must have been brought up to the business, or
at least had listened to the workmen in their work-
shop.

Feb. 12. — Eeceived a cheering letter from Black-
wood, saying that he finds 'Adam Bede' mtddng
just the impression he had anticipated among his
own friends and connections, and enclosing a pcurcel
from Dr John Brown "To the author of 'Adam
Bede.' " The parcel contained ' Eab and his Friends,'
with an inscription.

VOL. II. F

/

X

/

Letter to
John Black-
wood, 13th
Feb. 1859.

Letter to
Miss Sara
Hezmell,
19th Feb.
1859.

82

Dr John Brown. [WANDSWOETH,

Will you tell Dr John Brown, that when I read
an account of 'Eab and his Friends' in a news-
paper, I wished I had the story to read at full
length; and I thought to myself the writer of
'Eab' would perhaps like 'Adam Bede/

When you have told him this, he will under-
stand the peculiar pleasure I had on opening the
little parcel with ' Eab ' inside, and a kind word
from Eab*s friend. I have read the story twice —
once aloud, and once to myself, very slowly, that I
might dwell on the pictures of Eab and Ailie, and
carry them about with me more distinctly. I will
not say any commonplace words of admiration
about what has touched me so deeply : there is no
adjective of that sort left undefiled by the news-
papers. The writer of 'Eab' haows that I must
love the grim old mastiff with the short tail and
the long dewlaps — that I must have felt present at
the scenes of Ailie's last trial.

Thanks for your cheering letter. I will be hope-
ful—if I can.

You have the art of writing just the sort of
letters I care for — sincere letters, like your own
talk. We are tolerably settled now, except that
we have only a temporary servant; and I shall
not be quite at ease until I have a trustworthy

1859.] Visions of a Country Home. 83

woman who will manage without incessant dogging. Letter to

MiM Sftim

Our home is very comfortable, with far more of Henneu,

19th Feb.

vulgar indulgences in it than I ever expected isso.
to have again; but you must not imagine it a
snug place, just peeping above the holly bushes.
Imagine it rather as a tall cake, with a low gar-
nish of holly and laurel. As it is, we are very
well oflF, with glorious breezy walks, and wide
horizons, well ventilated rooms, and abundant
water. If I allowed myself to have any longings
beyond what is given, they would be for a nook
quite in the country, far away from palaces —
Crystal or otherwise — with an orchard behind me
full of old trees, and rough grass and hedgerow
paths among the endless fields where you meet
nobody. We talk of such things sometimes, along
with old age and dim faculties, and a small inde-
pendence to save us from writing drivel for dis-
honest money. In the meantime the business of
life shuts us up within the environs of London
and within sight of human advancements, which
I should be so very glad to believe in without

Pretty Arabella Goddard we heard play at Berlin
—play the very things you heard as a bonne botiche
at the last — ^none the less delightful from being so

84 Life, of Sir Walter Scott, [wandswokth^

Letter to Unlike the piano playing of Liszt and Clara Schu-i

Miss Sara

Henneii, mann, whom we had heard at Weimw, — both great,

19th Feb.

1859. and one the greatest.

Thank you for sending me that authentic word
about Miss Nightingale. I wonder if she would
rather rest from her blessed labours, or live to go
on working? Sometimes, when I read of the
death of some great sensitive human being, I have
a triumph in the sense that they are at rest ; and
yet, along with that, such deep sadness at the
thought that the rare nature is gone for ever into
darkness, and we can never know that our love
and reverence can reach him, that I seem to have
gone through a personal sorrow when I shut the
book and go to bed. I felt in that way the other
night when I finished the life of Scott aloud to
Mr Lewes. He had never read the book before,
and has been deeply stirred by the picture of Scott's
character — ^his energy and steady work, his grand
fortitude under calamity, and the spirit of strict
honour to which he sacrificed his declining hfe.
He loves Scott as well as I do.

We have met a pleasant-faced, bright-glancing
man, whom we set down to be worthy of the
name, Eichard Congreve. I am curious to see if
our Ahnung will be verified.

1859.] Effect of Anxiety. 85

One word of gratitude to you first before I write Letterto

MnBny,

any other letters. Heaven and earth bless you for s4Ui F^b.

1859.

trying to help me. I have been blasphemous enough
sometimes to think that I had never been good and
attractive enough to win any little share of the
honest, disinterested friendship there is in the
world : one or two examples of late had given that
impression, and I am prone to rest in the least
agreeable conviction the premisses will allow. I
need hardly tell you what I want, you know it
so well : a servant who will cause me the least
possible expenditure of time on household matters.
I wish I were not an anxious, fidgety wretch,
and could sit down content with dirt and disorder.
But anything in the shape of an anxiety soon grows
into a monstrous vulture with me, and makes itself
more present to me than my rich sources of happi-
ness — such as too few mortals are blessed with.
You know me. Since I wrote this, I have just had
a letter from my sister Chrissey — ^ill in bed, con-
sumptive — ^regretting that she ever ceased to write
to me. It has ploughed up my heart.

Mrs Carlyle*s ardent letter will interest and Letterto

, t • 1 John Black-

amuse you. I reckon it among my best triumphs wood. 24th

Feb. 1859.

that she found herself " in charity with the whole
human race" when she laid the book down. I

86 Carlyh. [WANDSWOKTH,

Letter to Want the philosopher himself to read it, because the

John Black*

wood, 24th ^6-philosophic period — ^the childhood and poetry of

Feb. 1869.

his life — ^lay among the furrowed fields and pious
peasantry. If he could be urged to read a novel !
I should like, if possible, to give him the same sort
of pleasure he has given me in the early chapters
of ' Sartor,' where he describes little Diogenes eat-
ing his porridge on the wall in sight of the sunset,
and gaining deep wisdom from the contemplation of
the pigs and other " higher animals " of Entepfuhl.

Your critic was not unjustly severe on the * Mirage
Philosophy ' — and I confess the * Life of Frederic '
was a painful book to me in many respects; and
yet I shrink, perhaps superstitiously, from any
written or spoken word which is as strong as my
inward criticism.

I needed your letter very much — for when one
lives apart from the world, with no opportunity of
observing the effect of books except through the
newspapers, one is in danger of sinking into the
foolish belief that the day is past for the recogni-
tion of genuine truthful writing, in spite of recent
experience that the newspapers are no criterion at
all. One such opinion as Mr Caird*s outweighs
a great deal of damnatory praise from ignorant
journalists.

1859.] SensihUity to Criticism. 87

It is a wretched weakness of my nature to be so Letterto

JolmBlaek*

strongly aflfected by these things ; and yet how is it wood, uth
possible to put one s best heart and soul into a book
and be hardened to the result — ^be indifferent to
the proof whether or not one has really a vocation
to speak to one's fellow -men in that way? Of
course one's vanity is at work ; but the main anxi-
ety is something entirely distinct from vanity.

Ton see I mean you to understand that my feel-
ings are very respectable, and such as it will be
virtuous in you to gratify with the same zeal as
you have always shown. The packet of newspaper
notices is not come yet. I will take care to return
it when it has come.

The best news from London hitherto is that Mr
Dallas is an enthusiastic admirer of Adam. I ought
to except Mr Langford's reported opinion, which is
that of a person who has a voice of his own, and is
not a mere echo.

Otherwise, Edinburgh has sent me much more
encouraging breezes thjm any that have come from
the sweet south. I wonder if all your other authors
are as greedy and exacting as I am. If so, I hope
they appreciate your attention as much. Will you
obUge me by writing a line to Mrs Carlyle for me.
I don't like to leave her second letter (she wrote a

88 Press Notices of 'Adam Bede! [Wandsworth,
Letter to Very kind one about the ' Clerical Scenes ') without

John Black-
wood, 24th any sort of notice. Will you tell her that the

sort of effect she declares herself to have felt from

'Adam Bede' is just what I desire to produce —

gentle thoughts and happy remembrances; and I

thank her heartily for telling me, so warmly and

generously, what she has felt. That is not a pretty

message : revise it for me, pray, for I am weary and

ailing, and thinking of a sister who is slowly dying.

Letter to The folio of noticcs duly came, and are returned

John Black- , , , rm i.

wood, 26th by to-days post. The fnend at my elbow ran

Feb. 1869.

through them for me, and read aloud some speci-
mens to me, some of them ludicrous enough. The
' Edinburgh Courant * has the ring of sincere enjoy-
ment in its tone ; and the writer there makes him-
self so amiable to me, that I am sorry he has fallen
into the mistake of supposing that Mrs Poyser*s
original sayings are remembered proverbs ! I have
no stock of proverbs in my memory ; and there is
not one thing put into Mrs Peyser's mouth that is
not fresh from my own mint. Please to correct
that mistake if any one makes it in your hearing.
I have not ventured to look into the folio myself ;
but I learn that there are certain threatening marks,
in ink, by the side of such stock sentences as " best
novel of the sieason," or " best novel we have read

,] " Optnims of the Press:' 89

for a long time/' from such authorities as the ' Sun/ Letter to

John Black*

or 'Morning Star/ or other orb of the newspaper wood. 25th

V^b. 1869.

firmament — as if these sentences were to be selected
for reprint in the form of advertisement. I shudder
at the suggestion. Am I taking a liberty in entreat-
ing you to keep a sharp watch over the advertise-
ments, that no hackneyed puflBng phrase of this
kind may be tacked to my book ? One sees them
garnishing every other advertisement of trash:
surely no being " above the rank of an idiot " can
have his inclination coerced by them ; and it would
gaU me, as much as any trifle could, to see my book
recommended by an authority who doesn't know
how to write decent English. I believe that your
taste and judgment will concur with mine in the
conviction that no quotations of this vulgar kind
can do credit to a book ; and that unless something
looking like the real opinion of a tolerably educated
writer, in a respectable journal, can be given, it
would be better to abstain from "opinions of the
press " altogether. I shall be grateful to you if you
will save me from the results of any agency but
your own — or at least of any agency that is not
under your rigid criticism in this matter.

Pardon me if I am overstepping the author's
Umits in this expression of my feelings. I confide

90

Cheap Edition suggested, [WANDSWORTH,

Journal,
1859.

in your ready comprehension of the irritable class
you have to deal with.

Feb. 26. — Laudatory reviews of ' Adam Bede ' in
the * Athenaeum/ ' Saturday/ and ' Literary Gazette/
The ' Saturday ' criticism is characteristic : Dinah is
not mentioned !

The other day I received the following letter,
which I copy, because I have sent the original
away : —

Letter from
B. HaU to
Geo. Eliot.

1 " To the Author of * Adam Bede.*

"Chester Egad, Sunderland.

"Dear Sib, — I got the other day a hasty
read of your * Scenes of Clerical Life/ and
since that a glance at your * Adam Bede,' and
was delighted more than I can express; but
being a poor man, and having enough to do
to make 'ends meet/ I am unable to get a
read of your inimitable books.

" Forgive, dear sir, my boldness in asking you
to give us a cheap edition. You would confer
on us a great boon. I can get plenty of trash
for a few pence, but I am sick of it. I felt
so different when I shut your books, even
though it was but a kind of 'hop, skip, and
jump ' read.

.] Mt8 Clarke writes. 91

'' I feel so strongly in this matter, that I am Letter from

E. Hftllto

determined to risk being thought rude and oeo. EUot
officious, and write to you.

" Many of my working brethren feel as I do,
and I express their wish as well as my own.
Again asking your forgiveness for intruding
myself upon you — I remain, with profoundest
respect, yours, &c., E. Hall."

I have written to Chrissey, and shall hear from Letter to

MiMSara

her again. I think her writing was the result of Henneii,

26th Feb.

long, quiet thought — ^the slow return of a naturally 1859.
just and affectionate mind to the position from
which it had been thrust by external influence.
She says : " My object in writing to you is to tell
you how very sorry I have been that I ceased to
write, and neglected one who, under all circum-
stances, was kind to me and mine. Pray believe
me when I say it will be the greatest comfort I
can receive to know that you are well and happy.
Will you write once more?" &c. I wrote im-
mediately, and I desire to avoid any word of
reference to anything with which she associates
the idea of alienation. The past is abolished from
my mind. I only want her to feel that I love
her and care for her. The servant trouble seems

y

Letter to
HiBsSaim
Hennell,
26th Ftob.
1859.

Journal,
1859.

92 Mr and Mrs Congreve call, [wandsworth,

less mountainous to me than it did . the other day.
I was sufifering physically from unusual worrit
and muscular exertion in arranging the house,
and so was in a ridiculously desponding state.
I have written no end of letters in answer to
servants' advertisements, and we have put our
own advertisement in the 'Times' — all which
amount of force, if we were not philosophers and
therefore believers in the conservation of force,
we should declare to be lost. It is so pleasant to
know these high doctrines — they help one so much.
Mr and Mrs Eichard Congreve have called on us.
We shall return the call as soon as we can.

March 8.— Letter from Blackwood this morning
saying that "'Bedesman' has turned the comer
and is coming in a winner." Mudie has sent for
200 additional copies (making 700), and Mr Lang-
ford says the West End libraries keep sending for
more.

March 14.— My dear sister wrote to me about
three weeks ago, saying she regretted that she had
ever ceased writing to me, and that she has been
in a consumption for the last eighteen months. To-
day I have a letter from my niece Emily, telling
me her mother had been taken worse, and cannot
live many days.

1859.] The ''P<ypular Authorr 93

March 14. — Major Blackwood writes to say Jonmai.

1869.

"Mudie has just made up his number of *Adam
Bede' to 1000. Simpkins have sold their sub-
scribed number, and have had 12 to-day. Every-
one is talking of the book."

March 15. — Chrissey died this morning at a
quarter to 5.

March 16. — Blackwood writes to say I am "a
popular author, as well as a great author." They
printed 2090 of ' Adam Bede,* and have disposed of
more than 1800, so that they are thinking about a
second edition. A very feeling letter from Froude
this morning. I happened this morning to be read-
ing the 30th Ode, B. III. of Horace — " Non omnis
moriar."

The news you have sent me is worth paying a Letter to

T 1 1. • I. 11. -r J<*^ Black-

great deal of pam for, past and future. It comes wood, nth

rather strangely to me, who live in such uncon-
sciousnesss of what is going on in the world. I
am like a deaf person, to whom some one has just
shouted that the company round him have been
paying him compliments for the last half hour.
Let the best come, you will still be the person out-
side my own home who first gladdened me about
'Adam Bede;' and my success will always please
me the better because you will share the pleasure.

94 Ldter to Mr J, A, Frovde, [WANDSWOKTH,

Letter to Don't think I mean to worry you with many such

John Black' , .,, <. -i i i

wood. 17th requests — ^but will you copy for me the enclosed

March 1859.

short note to Froude ? I know you will, so I say
"thank you."

Letter to Deak Sib, — ^My excellent friend and publisher,

J. A. Froude

from George Mr Blackwood, Icnds me his pen to thank you for

Eliot.

your letter, and for his sake I shall be brief.

Your letter has done me real good — ^the same
sort of good as one has sometimes felt from a silent
pressure of the hand and a grave look in the midst
of smiling congratulations.

I have nothing else I care to tell you that you
will not have found out through my books, except
this one thing : that, so far as I am aware, you are
only the second person who has shared my own
satisfaction in Janet. I think she is the least
popular of my characters. You will judge from
that, that it was worth your while to tell me what
you felt about her.

I wish I could help you with words of equal
value ; but, after all, am I not helping you by say-
ing that it was well and generously done of you to
write to me ? — Ever faithfully yours,

George Eliot.

1869.] Qitoted in House of Commons. 95

It was worth your while to write me those feel- Letter to
ing words, for they axe the sort of things that I H«meii,

Slat lUrch

keep in my memory and feel the influence of a long, i869.
long while. Chrissey's death has taken from the
possibility of many things towards which I looked
with some hope and yearning in the future. I had
a very special feeling towards her — stronger than
any third person would think likely.
Jfardi 24. — Mr Herbert Spencer brought us Journal,

1869.

word that *Adam Bede' had been quoted by Mr
Charles Buxton in the House of Commons: "As
the farmer's wife says in * Adeun Bede,* * It wants
to be hatched over again and hatched different* *'

March 26. — George went into town to-day and
brought me home a budget of good news that com-
pensated for the pain I had felt in the coldness of
an old friend. Mr Langford says that Mudie
"thinks he must have another hundred or two
of 'Adam* — ^has read the book himself, and is
dehghted with it." Charles Reade says it is " the
finest thing since Shakspeare" — ^placed his finger
on lisbeth's account of her coming home with her
husband from their marriage — ^praises enthusiasti-
cally the style — the way in which the author
handles the Saxon language. Shirley Brooks also
delighted. John Murray says there has never been

96 Beview of * Adam' in *Maga' [wands wokth.
Journal, such a book. Mr Langford says there must be a

1859.

second edition, in 3 vols., and they will print 500 :
whether Mudie takes more or not, they will have
sold all by the end of a month. Lucas delighted
with the book, and will review it in the ' Times '
the first opportunity.
Letter to I should like you to convey my gratitude to your

wood, 30th reviewer. I see well he is a man whose experience

March 1859.

and study enable him to relish parts of my book,
which I should despair of seeing recognised by critics
in London back drawing-rooms. He has gratified
me keenly by laying his finger on passages which
I wrote either with strong feeling or from intimate
knowledge, but which I had prepared myself to find
entirely passed over by reviewers. Surely I am
not wrong in supposing him to be a clergyman ?
There was one exemplary lady Mr Langford spoke
of, who, after reading * Adam,' came the next day
and bought a copy both of that and the ' Clerical
Scenes.* I wish there may be three hundred ma-
trons as good as she ! It is a disappointment to me
to find that 'Adam* has given no impulse to the
* Scenes,' for I had sordid desires for money from a
second edition, and had dreamed of its coming
speedily.

About my new story, which will be a novel as

1859.] Mr Liggins ds " Oeorge ElioC 97

long as 'Adam Bede/ and a sort of companion Letter to

John Black*

picture of provincial life, we must talk when I have wood, soth

Much 1869.

the pleasure of seeing you. It will be a work
which will require time and labour.

Do write me good news as often as you can. I
owe thanks to Major Blackwood for a very charm-
ing letter.

The other day I received a letter from an old Letter to

-rxT- • 1 1 • . • .1 . John BUck-

mend m Warwickshire, contammg some striking wood,ioth
information about the author of *Adam Bede.' I
extract the passage for your amusement: —

"I want to ask you if you have read 'Adam
Bede,' or the ' Scenes of Clerical Life,* and whether
you know that the author is Mr Liggins ? . . . A
deputation of Dissenting parsons went over to ask
him to write for the ' Eclectic * and they found him
washing his slop-basin at a pump. He has no
servant, and does everything for himself; but
one of the said parsons said that he inspired
them with a reverence that would have made any
impertinent question impossible. The son of a
baker, of no mark at all in his town, so that it
is possible you may not have heard of him. You
know he calls himself 'George Eliot.' It sounds
strange to hear the * Westminster ' doubting whether
he is a woman, when here he is so well known. But

yoL, n. Q

98 Quiet Joy in Success, [wandsworth,

Letter to I am glad it has mentioned him. They say he gets

John Black- » a -i t^7» 7« ./.7#

wood, 10th no jn^ofit out of ^Adam Bede^ and gives %t freely to
Blajckwood, which is a shame. We have not read
him yet, but the extracts are irresistible."

Conceive the real George Eliot's feelings, con-
scious of being a base worldling — not washing his
own slop-basin, and nx)t giving away his MS. ! not
even intending to do so, in spite of the reverence
such a course might inspire. I hope you and Major
Blackwood will enjoy the myth.

Mr Langford sent me a letter the other day from
Miss Winkworth, a grave lady, who says she never
reads novels — except a few of the most famous, but
that she has read 'Adam' three times running.
One likes to know such things : they show that the
book tells on people's hearts, and may be a real
instrument of culture. I sing my Magnificat in
a quiet way, and have a great deal of deep, silent
joy; but few authors, I suppose, who have had a
real success, have known less of the flush and the
sensations of triumph that are talked of as the
accompaniments of success. I think I should soon
begin to believe that Liggins wrote my books — it
is so difficult to believe what the world does not
believe, so easy to believe what the world keeps re-
peating.

1859.] Trip to the Isle of Wight, 99

The very day you wrote we were driving in an Letter to
open carnage from Eyde to the Sandrock Hotel, Henneii,
taking in a month's delight in the space of five 1859.
hours. Such skies — ^such songs of larks — such beds
of primroses ! / am quite well now — set up by
iron and quinine, and polished off by the sea-breezes.
I have lost my young dislike to the spring, and am
as glad of it as the birds and plants are. Mr Lewes
has read 'Adam Bede,' and is as dithyrambic about
it as others appear to be, so / must refresh my soul
with it now as well as with the spring-tide. Mr
Liggins I remember as a vision of my childhood —
a tall, black-coated, genteel young clergyman-in-

Mr Lewes is "making himself into four" in Letter to
writmg answers to advertisements and other exer- Henneii,
tions which he generously takes on himself to save 1859.
me. A model husband!

We both like your literal title, * Thoughts in Aid
of Faith,* very much, and hope to see a little book
Tinder that title before the year is out — a book as
thorough and effective in its way as * Christianity
and Infidelity.'

ifewriting is an excellent process, frequently both
fot tjie book and its author ; and to prevent you
from grudging the toil, I will tell you that so old

100 'Times ' remeivs 'Adam Bede* [wandsworth,

Letter to
Hiss Sara
Hennell,
15th April
1859.

Journal)

1859.

a writer as Mr Lewes now rewrites everything of
importance, though in all the earlier years of his
authorship he would never take that trouble.

We are so happy in the neighbourhood of Mr
and Mrs Eichard Congreve. She is a sweet, intelli-
gent, gentle woman. I already love her: and his
fine beaming face does me good, like a glimpse of
an Olympian.

April 17. — I have left off recording the history
of 'Adam Bede,' and the pleasant letters and words
that came to me — the success has been so trium-
phantly beyond anything I had dreamed of, that it
would be tiresome to put down particulars. Four
hundred of the second edition (of 750) sold in the
first week, and twenty besides ordered when there
was not a copy left in the London house. This
morning Hachette has sent to ask my terms for the
liberty of translation into French. There was a
review in the ' Times ' last week, which will naturally
give a new stimulus to the sale; and yesterday I
sent a letter to the ' Times ' denying that Mr Liggins
is the author, as the world and Mr Anders had
settled it. But I must trust to the letters I have
received and preserved for giving me the history of
the book if I should live long enough to forget
details.

1859.] The Liggins Myth. 1 1

Shall I ever write another book as true as 'Adam journal,
Bede'? The weight of the future presses on me,
and makes itself felt even more than the deep satis-
faction of the past and present.

This myth about Liggins is getting serious, and Letter to

John Black-

must be put a stop to. We are bound not to allow wood, 20th

. , ^ , . . April 1869.

sums of money to be raised on a false supposition
of this kind. Don't you think it would be well for
you to write a letter to the ' Times,' to the efifect
that, as you find in some stupid quarters my letter
has not been received as a lond-fide denial, you
declare Mr Liggins not to be the author of * Clerical
Scenes ' and * Adam Bede ; ' further, that any future
applications to you concerning George Eliot will
not be answered, since that writer is not in need of
public benevolence. Such a letter might save us
from future annoyance and trouble, for I am rather
doubtful about Mr Liggins's character. The last
report I heard of him was that he spent his time in
smoking and drinking. I don't know whether that
is one of the data for the Warwickshire logicians
who have decided him to be the author of my books.

April 29. — To-day Blackwood sent me a letter Journal,

1859.

from Bulwer, which I copy because I have to send
back the original, and I hke to keep in mind the
generous praise of one author for another.

102

Sir Edward B, Lytton, [wandsworth.

Letter from
B. B. Lytton
to John
Blackwood.

" Malvern, AjprU 24, 1859.

" My dear Sir, — I ought long since to have
thanked you for 'Adam Bede/ But I never
had a moment to look at it, till arriving here,
and ordered by the doctors to abstain from all
* work/

" I owe the author much gratitude for some
very pleasing hours. The book indeed is worthy
of great admiration. There are touches of beauty
in the conception of human character that are
exquisite, and much wit and much poetry em-
bedded in the ' dialect,' which nevertheless the
author over-uses.

" The style is remarkably good whenever it
is English and not provincial — racy, original,
and nervous.

" I congratulate you on having found an
author of such promise, and published one of
the very ablest works of fiction I have read for
years. — ^Yours truly, E. B. L.

"I am better than I was, but thoroughly
done up."

Journal,
1859.

April 29.— Finished a story— "The Lifted Veil"
-which I began one morning at Eichmond as a

1859.] 'The Lifted Veil'— 'The Tullivers: 103
resource when my head was too stupid for more journal,

1859.

unportant work.

Eesumed my new novel, of which I am going to
rewrite the two first chapters. I shall call it pro-
visionally " The Tullivers," for the sake of a title
quelconque, or perhaps " St Ogg*s on the Floss."

Thank you for sending me Sir Edward Lytton's Lett«rto

T , , I'll . 11 rm •^**^ BUck-

letter, which has given me real pleasure. The wood. 29th

111 111 #.1 1 HI ^v^ 1^^'

praise is doubly valuable to me for the sake of the
generous feeling that prompted it. I think you
judged rightly about writing to the 'Times.* I
would abstain from the remotest appearance of a
"dodge." I am anxious to know of any positive
rumours that may get abroad ; for while I would
willingly, if it were possible — which it clearly is
not — ^retain my incognito as long as I live, I can
sufifer no one to bear my arms on his shield.

There is one alteration, or rather an addition —
merely of a sentence — ^that I wish to make in the
12s. edition of 'Adam Bede.' It is a sentence in
the chapter where Adam is making the coflBn at
night, and hears the willow wand. Some readers
seem not to have understood what I meant — namely,
that it was in Adam's peasant blood and nurture to
believe in this, and that he narrated it with awed
belief to his dying day. That is not a fancy of my

104 Friendship with Mrs Congreve, [wandsworth,

Letter to
John Black-
wood, 29th
April 1859.

Jotimal,
1859.

Letter to
MrsCon*
greve, 4th
May 1859.

own brain, but a matter of observation, and is, in
my mind, an important feature in Adam's character.
There is nothing else I wish to touch. I will send
you the sentence some day soon, with the page
where it is to be inserted.

May 3. — I had a letter from Mrs Eichard
Congreve, telling me of her safe arrival, with her
husband and sister,^ at Dieppe. This new friend,
whom I have gained by coming to Wandsworth, is
the chief charm of the place to me. Her friend-
ship has the same date as the success of *Adam
Bede' — two good things in my lot that ought
to have made me less sad than I have been in
this house.

Your letter came yesterday at tea-time, and made
the evening happier than usual. We had thought
of you not a little as we listened to the howling
winds, especially as the terrible wrecks off the
Irish coast had filled our imaginations disagreeably.
Nov) I can make a charming picture of you all on
the beach, except that I am obliged to fancy your
face looking still too languid after all your exertion
and sleeplessness. I remember the said face with
peculiar vividness, which is very pleasant to me.
"Eough" has been the daily companion of our

1 Miss Emily Bury, now Mrs Geddes.

1859.] Belief in Mrs Congreve's Love. 105

walks, and wins on our affections, as other fellow Letter to

Mrs Con-
mortals do, by a mixture of weaknesses and virtues greve, 4th

May 1869.

— ^the weaknesses consisting chiefly in a tendency
to become invisible every ten minutes and in a
forgetfulness of reproof, which, I fear, is the usual
accompaniment of meekness under it. All this is
good discipline for us selfish solitaries, who have
been used to stroll along, thinking of nothing but
ourselves.

We walked through your garden to-day, and I
gathered a bit of your sweetbrier, of which I am at
this moment enjoying the scent as it stands on my
desk. I am enjoying, too, another sort of sweet-
ness, which I also owe to you — of that subtle,
haunting kind which is most like the scent of my
favourite plants — the belief that you do reaUy care
for me across the seas there, and will associate me
continually with your home. Faith is not easy to
me, nevertheless I believe everytliing you say and
write.

Write to me as often as you can — ^that is, as
often as you feel any prompting to do so. You
were a dear presence to me, and will be a precious
thought to me aU through your absence.

May 4. — To-day came a letter from Barbara Joumai,

1859.

Bodichon, full of joy in my success, in the certamty

106 Madame Bodichon discovers [WANDSWORTH,
Journal, that ' Adam Bede ' was mine, though she had not

1859. ^ , . . rm . . ^

read more than extracts m reviews. This is the
first delight in the book as mine, over and above the
fact that the book is good.
Letter to God bless you, dearest Barbara, for your love and

Bodichon, Sympathy. You are the first friend who has given
1869. *^ ^^7 symptom of knowing me — ^the first heart that
has recognised me in a book which has come from
my heart of hearts. But keep the secret solemnly
till I give you leave to tell it, and give way to no
impulses of triumphant affection. You have sense
enough to know how important the incognito has
been, and we are anxious to keep it up a few
months longer. Curiously enough my old Coventry
friends, who have certainly read the ' Westminster *
and the 'Times,' and have probably by this time
read the book itself, have given no sign of recogni-
tion. But a certain Mr Liggins, whom rumour has
fixed on as the author of my books, and whom tfiey
have believed in, has probably screened me from
their vision. I am a very blessed woman, am I
not, to have all this reason for being glad that I
have lived ? I have had no time of exultation — on
the contrary, these last months have been sadder
than usual to me ; and I have thought more of the
future and the much work that remains to be done

1859.] Author of 'Adam Bede' 107

in life than of anything that has been achieved. Letter to

Madame

But I think your letter to-day gave me more joy — Bodichon,

5th May

more heart-glow — than all the letters or reviews or i869.
other testimonies of success that have come to me
since the evenings when I read aloud my manu-
script to my dear, dear husband, and he laughed
and cried alternately, and then rushed to me to kiss
me. He is the prime blessing that has made all
the rest possible to me, giving me a response to
everything I have written — a response that I could
confide in, as a proof that I had not mistaken my
work.
You must not think me too soft-hearted, when I Letter to

. MajorBlack-

tell you that it would make me uneasy to leave wood, eth

ir 1 -I • -1 1 1 • -I Mayl869.

Mr Anders without an assurance that his apology
is accepted. "Who with repentance is not satis-
fied," &c. ; that doctrine is bad for the sinning, but
good for those sinned against. Will you oblige me
by allowing a clerk to write something to this efifect
in the name of the firm ? — " We are requested by
George Eliot to state, in reply to your letter of
the 16th, that he accepts your assurance that the
pubUcation of your letter to the reviewer of ' Adam
Bede' in the 'Times' was unintentional on your
part."
Yes, I am assured now that 'Adam Bede' was

108 The Dulwich Picture-Gallery, [wandsworth,
Letter to worth Writing — worth living through long years to

MajorBlack- . -r» • .mi it

wood, 6th write. But now it seems impossible to me that I

May 1859.

shall ever write anything so good and true again.
I have arrived at faith in the past, but not at faith
in the future. •

A friend in Algiers ^ has found me out — " will go
to the stake on the assertion that I wrote ' Adam
Bede ' " — simply on the evidence of a few extracts.
So far as I know, this is the first case of detection
on purely internal evidence. But the secret is safe
in that quarter.

I hope I shall have the pleasure of seeing you
again during some visit that you will pay to town
before very long. It would do me good to have you
shake me by the hand as the ascertained George
Eliot.
Journal, May 9. — Wc had a delicious drive to Dulwich

1859.

and back by Sydenham. We staid an hour in the
gallery at Dulwich, and I satisfied myself that the
St Sebastian is no exception to the usual "petty
prettiness" of Guide's conceptions. The Cuyp
glowing in the evening sun, the Spanish beggar
boys of Murillo, and Gainsborough's portrait of Mrs
Sheridan and her sister, are the gems of the gallery.
But better than the pictures was the fresh greenth

i Madame Bodichon.

1859.] Appreci(Uion of BlcLchwods. 109

of the spring, — ^the chestnuts just on the verge of jounuo,
their flowering beauty, the bright leaves of the
hmes, the rich yellow -brown of the oaks, the
meadows full of buttercups. We saw for the first
time Clapham Common, Streatham Common, and
Tooting Common, — ^the two last like parks rather
than commons.

May 19. — ^A letter from Blackwood, in which he
proposes to give me another £400 at the end of the
year, making in all £1200, as an acknowledgment
of 'Adam Bede's ' success.

Mrs Congreve is a sweet woman, and I feel that Letter to

Miss Sara

I have acquired a friend in her — after recently de- Henneu,

19th May

daring that we would never have any friends again, i869.
only acquairUances,

Thank you: first, for acting with that fine in- Letter to

, . , -, m p • 1 • John Black'

tegnty which makes part of my faith m you; wood, 2i8t
secondly, for the material sign of that integrity. I
don't know which of those two things I care for
most — that people should act nobly towards me,
or that I should get honest money. I certainly
care a great deal for the money, as I suppose all
anxious minds do that love independence and have
been brought up to think debt and begging the two
deepest dishonours short of crime.

I look forward with quite eager expectation to

110 Effect of Cheap Music. [WANDSWORTH,

Letter to Seeing you — we have so much to say. Pray give

John Black-
wood, 2i8t US the first day at your command. The excursion.

May 1859. ... i i i -. « .

as you may unagine, is not ardently longed for in
this weather, but when " merry May " is quite gone,
we may surely hope for some sunshine ; and then I
have a pet project of rambling along by the banks
of a river, not without artistic as well as hygienic
purposes.

Pray bring me all the Liggins Correspondence.
I have an amusing letter or two to show you, — one
from a gentleman who has sent me his works;
happily the only instance of the kind. For as
Charles Lamb complains, it is always the people
whose books don't sell who are anxious to send them
to oue, with their " foolish autographs " inside.
Letter to We dou't think of going to the festival, not for

Miss Sara

Henneu, waut of powcr to cnjoy Handel, — ^there are few

21st May

1859. things that I care for more in the way of music

than his choruses, performed by a grand orchestra,
— but because we are neither of us fit to encounter
the physical exertion and inconveniences. It is a
cruel thing the difl&culty and dearness of getting
any music in England— concerted music, which is
the only music I care for much now. At Dresden
we could have thoroughly enjoyable instrumental
music every evening for twopence ; and I owed so

1859.] The Liggins Business, 111

many thoughts and inspirations of feeling to that
stimulus.
May 27. — Blackwood came to dine with us on Journal,

1859.

his arrival in London, and we had much talk. A
day or two before he had sent me a letter from
Professor Aytoun, saying that he had neglected his
work to read the first volume of *Adam Bede;'
and he actually sent the other two volvmnes out of
the house to save himself from temptation. Black-
wood brought with him a correspondence he has
had with various people about Liggins, beginning
with Mr Bracebridge, who will have it that Liggins
is the author of ' Adam Bede ' in spite of all denials.

June 5. — Blackwood came, and we concocted two
letters to send to the ' Times,' in order to put a stop
to the Liggins afifair.

The " Liggins business " does annoy me, because Letter to

Mi^or Black-
it subjects you and Mr John Blackwood to the wood, etu

reception of msulting letters, and the trouble of

writing contradictions. Otherwise, the whole affair

y a subject for a Moli^re comedy — ^''The

J Men of Warwickshire," who might supersede

iie Wise Men of Gotham."

The letter you sent me was a very pleasant one

m Mrs Gaskell, saying that since she came up to

town she has had the compliment paid her of being

112 Mrs GasML [WANDSWOKTH,

Letter to suspectcd to have written 'Adam Bede.' " I have

M^or Black-
wood, 6th hitherto denied it ; but really, I think that, as you

June 1859. _ _ . . i j i

want to keep your real name a secret, it would be
very pleasant for me to blush acquiescence. Will
you give me leave ? "

I hope the inaccuracy with which she writes my
name is not characteristic of a genius for fiction,
though I once heard a German account for the bad
spelling in Goethe's early letters by saying that it
was "genial" — ^their word for whatever is charac-
teristic of genius.
Letter to I was glad you wrote to me from Avignon of all

greve,Tui the places you have visited, because Avignon is one
of my most vivid remembrances from out the dim-
ness of ten years ago. Lucerne would be a strange
region to me but for Calame*s pictures. Through
them I have a vision of it, but of course when I see
it 'twill be another Luzem. Mr Lewes obstinately
nurses the project of carrying me thither with him,
and depositing me within reach of you while he
goes to Hofwyl. But at present I say " No." We
have been waiting and waiting for the skies to let
us take a few days' ramble by the river, but now I
fear we must give it up till all the freshness of
young summer is gone. July and August are the
two months I care least about for leafy scenery.

June 1859.

1 1869.] The Eandd Festwal. 113

However, we are kept at home this month partly Letter to

Mrs Con.

07 pleasures: the Handel Festival, for which we greve,8th

June 1859.

have indulged ourselves with tickets, and the sight
of old friends — ^Mrs Bodichon among the rest, and
for her we hope to use your kind loan of a bedroom.
We are both of us in much better condition than
when you said good-bye to us, and I have many
other sources of gladness just now, — so I mean to
make myself disagreeable no longer by caring about
petty troubles. If one could but order cheerfulness
from the druggist's ! or even a few doses of coldness
and distrust, to prevent one from foolish confidence
in one's fellow-mortals !

I want to get rid of this house — cut cables and
drift about. I dislike Wandswoith, and should
think with unmitigated regret of our coming here
if it were not for you. But you are worth paying
a price for.

There! I have written about nothing but our-
selves this time ! You do the same, and then I
think I will promise . . . not to write again, but
to ask you to go on writing to me without an
answer.

How cool and idle you are this morning ! I am
warm and busy, but always at all temperatures —
Yours affectionately.

114 AcJcTwwledges Authorship to [Wandsworth,

Joonml,
1859.

Letter to
Miss Sara
Hennell,
24th June
1859.

Jtme 20. — ^We went to the Crystal Palace to hear
the " Messiah," and dined afterwards with the Brays
and Sara HenneU. I told them I was the author
of 'Adam Bede' and 'Clerical Scenes/ and they
seemed overwhelmed with surprise. This experi-
ence has enlightened me a good deal as to the
ignorance in which we all Uve of each other.

There is always an after sadness belonging to
brief and interrupted intercourse between friends —
the sadness of feeling that the blundering efforts
we have made towards mutual understanding have
only made a new veil between us — still more, the
sadness of feeling that some pain may have been
given which separation makes a permanent mem-
ory. We are quite unable to represent ourselves
truly. Why should we complain that our friends
see a false image ? I say this, because I am feeling
painfuUy this morning, that instead of helping you
when you brought before me a matter so deeply
interesting to you, I have only blundered, and that
I have blundered, as most of us do, from too much
egoism and too little sympathy. If my mind had
been more open to receive impressions, instead of
being in over haste to give them, I should more
readily have seen what your object was in giving
me that portion of your MS., and we might have

1859.] the Brays arid Miss ffenndl. 115

gone through the necessary part of it on Tuesday. Letter to

Mils Barm

It seems no use to write this now, and yet I can't Henneu,

24th June

help wanting to assure you, that if I am too im- i869.

perfect to do and feel the right thing at the right

moment, I am not without the slower sympathy

that becomes all the stronger from a sense of

previous mistake.

I am told peremptorily that I am to go to Letter to

Mrs Con-
Switzerland next month, but now I have read Kreve,27th

June 1859.

your letter, I can't help thinking more of your
illness than of the pleasure in prospect — ^according
to my foolish nature, which is always prone to live
in past pain.

We shall not arrive at Lucerne till the 12th,
at the earliest, I imagine, so I hope we are
secured from the danger of alighting precisely on
the days of your absence. That would be cruel, for
I shall only be left at Lucerne for three days. You
must positively have nothing more interesting to
do than to talk to me and let me look at you.
Tell your sister I shall be all ears and eyes and no
tongue, so she will find me the most aimable of
conversers.

I think it must be that the sunshine makes your
absence more conspicuous, for this place certainly
becomes drearier to me as the summer advances

116 Effect of Talking [wandsworth.

Letter to The dusty roads are all longer, and the shade is

Mrs Gon-

greve, 27th farther ofif. No more now about anything — except

June 1859.

that Mr Lewes commands me to say he has just
read the ' Eoman Empire of the West ' with much
mterest, and is gomg now to flesh his teeth in the
" Politique " (Auguste Comte's).
Letter to the Dear Friends, — ^All three of you — thanks for

Brays, Mon-

day evening, your packet of heartfelt kindness. That is the best

end of Jane _ i . , i • i . . ^

1869. of your kindness — ^there is no sham m it. It was

inevitable to me to have that outburst when I saw
you for a little while after the long silence, and felt
that I must tell you then or be forestalled, and
leave you to gather the truth amidst an inextricable
mixture of falsehood. But I feel that the influ-
ence of talking about my books, even to you and
Mrs Bodichon, has been so bad to me that I should
like to be able to keep silence concerning them
for evermore. If people were to buzz round me
with their remarks, or compliments, I should lose
the repose of mind and truthfulness of production,
without which no good healthy books can be
written. Talking about my books, I find, has much
the same malign effect on me as talking of my feel-
ings or my religion.

I should think Sara's version of my brother's
words concerning 'Adam Bede' is the correct one

1859.] of her own Boohs. 117

—''thai there are things in it about my father*' (i.e., Letter to the

Bmys, Men-
being interpreted, things my father told us about d*y evening,

end of Jane

his early life), not " portrait " of my father. There 1859.
is not a single portrait in the book, nor will there
be in any future book of mine. There are portraits
in the ' Clerical Scenes ; ' but that was my first bit
of art, and my hand was not weU in. I did not
know so well how to manipulate my materials. As
soon as the Liggins falsehood is annihilated, of
course there will be twenty new ones in its place ;
and one of the first will be that I was not the sole
author. The only safe thing for my mind's health
is to shut my ears and go on with my work.
Thanks for your letters. They have given me Letter to

Chas. Bray,

one pleasure — ^that of knowing that Mr Liggins sthjuiy
has not been greatly culpable — though Mr Brace-
bridge's statement, that only " some small sums "
have been collected, does not accord with what has
been written to Mr Blackwood from other counties.
But " Oh, I am sick ! " Take no more trouble about
me, and let every one believe — as they will, in spite
of your kind efiforts — wTuU they like to believe. I
can't tell you how much melancholy it causes me
that people are, for the most part, so incapable of
comprehending the state of mind which cares for
that which is essentially human in all forms of

118 Author's Discouragement [WANDSWORTH,

Letter to
Chas. Bray,
5th July
1859.

Letter to
Mrs Con-
greve, 6th
July 1859.

belief, and desires to exhibit it under all forms with
loving truthfulness. Freethinkers are scarcely
wider than the orthodox in this matter, — ^they all
want to see themselves and their own opinions held
up as the true and the lovely. On the same ground
that an idle woman, with flirtations and flounces,
likes to read a French novel, because she can
imagine herself the heroine, grave people, with
opinions, like the most admirable character in a
novel to be their mouthpiece. If art does not
enlarge men's sympathies, it does nothing morally.
I have had heart-cutting experience that opinions
are a poor cement between human souls : and the
only effect I ardently long to produce by my
writings is, that those who read them should be
better able to imagine and to feel the pains and the
joys of those who dififer from themselves in every-
thing but the broad fact of being struggling, erring,
human creatures.

We shall not start till Saturday, and shall not
reach Lucerne till the evening of the 11th. There is
a project of our returning through Holland, but the
attractions of Lucerne are sure to keep us there as
long as possible. We have given up Zurich in
spite of Moleschott and science. The other day I
said to Mr Lewes, " Every now and then it comes

1859.] Trip to Laceme. 119

across me, like the recollection of some precious
little store laid by, that there is Mrs Congreve in
the world." That is how people talk of you in
your absence.

July 9. — ^We started for Switzerland. Spent a Joumai,

1859.

delightful day in Paris. To the Louvre first, where
we looked chiefly at the "Marriage at Cana," by
Paul Veronese. This picture, the greatest I have
seen of his, converted me to high admiration of
him.

July 12. — ^Arrived at Lucerne in the evening.
Glad to make a home at the charming Schweiz-
erhof on the banks of the Lake. G. went to call
on the Congreves, and in the afternoon Mrs Con-
greve came to chat with us. In the evening we
had a boat on the Lake.

July 13. — G. set off for Hofwyl at five o'clock,
and the three next days were passed by me in
quiet chat with the Congreves and quiet resting on
my own sofa.

July 19. — Spent the morning in B^e, chiefly
under the chestnut trees, near the Cathedral, I
reading aloud Flourens's sketch of Cuvier's labours.
In the afternoon to Paris.

July 21. — Holly Lodge, Wandsworth. Found a
charming letter from Dickens, and pleasant letters

120 Return to England, [wandsworth,

Journal, from Blackwood : nothing to annoy us. Before we

1859.

set off we had heard the excellent news that the
fourth edition of 'Adam Bede ' (5000) had all been
sold in a fortnight. The fifth edition appeared last
week.
Letter to We reached here last evening, and though I was

Mrs Bray

23d July a good deal over-done in getting to Lucerne, I have

1859.

borne the equally rapid journey back without head-
ache — a proof that I am strengthened. I had three
quiet days of talk with the Congreves at Lucerne,
while Mr Lewes went to Hofwyl. Mrs Congreve
is one of those women of whom there are few —
rich in intelligence, without pretension, and quiver-
ing with sensibility, yet calm and quiet in her
manners.
Letter to I thank you for your offer about the money for

wood, 23d * Adam,' but I have intentions of stem thrift, and
mean to want as little as possible. When " Maggie "
is done, and I have a month or two of leisure, I
should like to transfer our present house, into which
we were driven by haste and economy, to some one
who likes houses full of eyes all round him. I long
for a house with some shade and grass close round
it — I don't care how rough — and the sight of Swiss
houses has heightened my longing. But at present
I say Avaunt to all desires.

July 1859.

1859.] Responsibility of Authorship. 121

While I think of it, let me beg of you to men- Letter to

John BlAck-

fcion to the superintendent of your printing-ofiBce, wood, 28d

July 1869.

that in case of another reprint of * Adam/ I beg
the word " sperrit " (for " spirit ") may be particu-
larly attended to. Adam never said "speerit,"
as he is made to do in the cheaper edition, at least
in one place — ^his speech at the birthday dinner.
This is a small matter: but it is a point I care
about.

Words fail me about the not impossible Pug, for
some compunction at having mentioned my un-
reasonable wish will mingle itself paradoxically
with the hope that it may be fulfilled.

I hope we shall have other interviews to remember
this time next year, and that you will find me with-
out aggravated symptoms of the " author's malady "
— ^a determination of talk to my own books, which
I was alarmingly conscious of when you and the
Major were here. After all, I fear authors must
submit to be something of monsters — not quite
simple, healthy human beings ; but I will keep my
monstrosity within bounds if possible.

The things you tell me are just such as I need to Letter to

Mrs Bray,

know — I mean about the help my book is to the 26th juiy
people who read it. The weight of my future life,
— ^the self-questioning whether my nature will be

122 Fame in Dreams. [WANDSWORTH,

Letter to able to meet the heavy demands upon it, both

Mrs Bray,

26th July of personal duty and intellectual production, —

1859. . „ .

presses upon me almost contmually m a way that
prevents me even from tasting the quiet joy I might
have in the loork done. Buoyancy and exultation,
I fancy, are out of the question when one has lived
so long as I have. But I am the better for every
word of encouragement, and am helped over many
days by such a note as yours. I often think of my
dreams when I was four or five and twenty. I
thought then how happy fame would make me !
I feel no regret that the fame, as such, brings no
pleasure ; but it is a grief to me that I do not con-
stantly feel strong in thankfulness that my past
life has vindicated its uses, and given me reason for
gladness that such an unpromising woman child
was born into the world. I ought not to care about
small annoyances, and it is chiefly egoism that
makes them annoyances. I had quite an enthu-
siastic letter from Herbert Spencer the other day
about 'Adam Bede.' He says he feels the better
for reading it — really words to be treasured up. I
can't bear the idea of appearing further in the
papers. And there is no one now except people
who would not be convinced, though one rose from
the dead, to whom any statement apropos of Liggins

1859.] ThoTTis in Actual Fame, 123

would be otherwise than superfluous. I daresay Letter to

Mre Bray,

some " investigator " of the Bracebridge order will 26th juiy

1859.

arise after I am dead and revive the story — and
perhaps posterity will believe in liggins. Why
not ? A man a little while ago wrote a pamphlet
to prove that the Waverley novels were chiefly
written, not by Walter Scott, but by Thomas Scott
and his wife Elizabeth. The main evidence being
that several people thought Thomas cleverer than
Walter, and that in the list of the Canadian regi-
ment of Scots to which Thomas belonged, many
of the narrves of the Waverley novels occurred —
among the rest Monk — and in 'Woodstock' there
is a General Monk! The writer expected to get
a great reputation by his pamphlet, and I think
it might have suggested to Mr B. his style of
critical and historical inference. I must tell you,
in confidence, that Dickens has written to me the
noblest, most touching words about 'Adam* — not
hyperbolical compliments, but expressions of deep
feeling. He says the reading made an epoch in
his life.
Pug is come! — come to fill up the void left by Letter to

John Black-
false and narrow-hearted friends. I see already wood, soth

July 1859.

that he is without envy, hatred, or malice — that he
will betray no secrets, and feel neither pain at my

124 Pug. [WANDSWORTH,

Letter to success nor pleasure in my chagrin. I hope the

John Black- i i . • i • i • t •

wood, 30th photograph does justice to his physiognomy. It is

July 1859.

expressive: full of gentleness and affection, and
radiant with intelligence when there is a savoury
morsel in question — ^a hopeful indication of his
mental capacity. I distrust all intellectual pre-
tension that announces itself by obtuseness of
palate!

I wish you could see him in his best pose, — when
I have arrested him in a violent career of carpet-
scratching, and he looks at me with fore-legs very
wide apart, trying to penetrate the deep mystery
of this arbitrary, not to say capricious, prohibition.
He is snoring by my side at this moment, with a
serene promise of remaining quiet for any length
of time: he couldn't behave better if he had
been expressly educated for me. I am too lazy a
lover of dogs and all earthly things to like them
when they give me much trouble, preferring to
describe the pleasure other people have in taking
trouble.

Alas ! the shadow that tracks all earthly good —
the possibility of loss. One may lose one's faculties,
which will not always fetch a high price; how
much more a Pug worth unmentionable sums — a
Pug which some generous -hearted personage in

1859.] First Letter to Charles Lewes. 125

some other comer of Great Britain than Edinburgh Letter to

John BlAok*

may even now be sending emissaries after, being wood.8oth

July 1859.

bent on paying the kindest, most delicate attention
to a sensitive mortal not sufficiently reticent of
wishes.

All I can say of that generous-hearted personage
No. 2 is, that I wish he may get — somebody else's
Pug, not mine. And all I will say of the sensitive,
insufficiently-reticent mortal No. 2 is, that I hope
he may be as pleased and as grateful as (Jeorge
EUot.

I look forward to playing duets with you as one Letter to

Charles L.

of my future pleasures ; and if I am able to go on Lewes, soth
working, I hope we shall afford to have a fine grand ^
piano. I have none of Mozart's Symphonies, so
that you can be guided in your choice of them
entirely by your own taste. I know Beethoven's
Sonata in E flat well ; it is a very charming one,
and I shall like to hear you play it. That is one of
my luxuries — to sit still and hear some one playing
my favourite music ; so that you may be sure you
will find willing ears to listen to the fruits of your
industrious practising.

There are ladies in the world, not a few, who
play the violin, and I wish I were one of them, for
then we could play together sonatas for the piano

126 Dmre to Play the Violin, [WANDSWORTH,

Letter to and violin, which make a charming combination.

Charles L.

Lewes, 30th The violin gives that keen edge of tone which the

July 1859.

piano wants.

I like to know that you were gratified by getting
a watch so much sooner than you expected ; and it
was the greater satisfaction to me to send it you,
because you had earned it by making good use
of these precious years at Hofwyl. It is a great
comfort to your father and me to think of that,
for we, with our old grave heads, can't help talk-
ing very often of the need our boys will have
for all sorts of good qualities and habits in mak-
ing their way through this difl&cult life. It is a
world, you perceive, in which cross-bows will be
launisch sometimes, and frustrate the skill of
excellent marksmen — how much more of lazy
bunglers ?

The first volume of the * Physiology of Conmion
Life ' is just published, and it is a great pleasure to
see so much of your father's hard work successfully
finished. He has been giving a great deal of labour
to the numbers on the physiology of the nervous
system, which are to appear in the course of two or
three months, and he has enjoyed the labour in
spite of the drawback of imperfect health, which
obliges him very often to leave the desk with a hot

1859.] Mr Lewes' s Work, 127

and aching head. It is quite my worst trouble that Letter to

Clutrles L.

he has so much of this discomfort to bear ; and we LeweB. soth

Jaly 1859.

must all try and make everything else as pleasant
to him as we can, to make up for it.

Tell Thornton he shall have the book he asks for,
if possible — I mean the book of moths and butter-
flies; and tell Bertie I expect to hear about the
wonderful things he has done with his pocket-knife.
Tell him he is equipped well enough to become
king of a desert island with that pocket-knife of
his ; and if, as I think I remember, it has a cork-
screw attached, he would certainly have more
implements than he would need in that romantic
position.

We shall hope to hear a great deal of your
journey, with all its haps and mishaps. The
mishaps are just as pleasant as the haps when
they are past — that is one comfort for tormented
travellers.

You are an excellent correspondent, so I do not
fear you will flag in writing to me ; and remember,
you are always giving a pleasure when you write
to me.

Aug. 11. — Eeceived a letter from an American — Joumai

1859.

Mr J. C. Evans — asking me to write a story for an
American periodical. Answered that I could not

128

Artistic Combinations. [WANDSWORTH,

Letter to
Madame
Bodichon,
nth Aug.
1869.

Journal,
1859.

Letter to
Miss Sara
Hennell,
16th Aug.
1859

write one for less than £1000, since, in order to do
it, I must suspend my actual work.

I do wish much to see more of human life — ^how
can one see enough in the short years one has to
stay in the world ? But I meant that at present
my mind works with the most freedom and the
keenest sense of poetry in my remotest past, and
there are many strata to be worked through before
I can begin to use, artistically , any material I may
gather in the present. Curiously enough, apropos
of your remark about 'Adam Bede,' there is much
less "out of my own life" in that book — i.e., the
materials are much more a combination from im-
perfectly-known and widely - sundered elements
than the 'Clerical Scenes/ I'm so glad you have
enjoyed these — so thankful for the words you
write me.

Av^. 12. — ^Mr J. C. Evans wrote again, declaring
his willingness to pay the £1000, and asking for an
interview to arrange preliminaries.

Aiig. 15. — ^Declined the American proposition,
which was to write a story of twelve parts (weekly
parts) in the 'New York Century' for £1200.

I have re-read your whole proof, and feel that
every serious reader will be impressed with the
indications of real truth-seeking and heart-expe-

1859.] The New Story. 129

rience in the tone. Beginnings are always trouble- Letter to

MinSen

some. Even Macaulay's few pages of introduction Hemwu,
to his Introduction in the English History are the i869. "*^
worst bit of writing in the book. It was no trouble
to me to read your proof, so don't talk as if it had
been.
Aug. 17. — ^Eeceived a letter from Blackwood, Joumai.

1869.

with cheque for £200 for second edition of * Clerical
Scenes.'
I'm glad my story cleaves to you. At present Letter to

John Black*

I have no hope that it will aflfect people as strongly wood, mh

Aug. 1869.

as 'Adam' has done. The characters are on a
lower level generally, and the environment less
romantic. But my stories grow in me like plants,
and this is only in the leaf-bud. I have faith that
the flower will come. Not enough faith, though,
to make me like the idea of beginning to print till
the flower is fairly out — ^till I know the end as well
as the beginning.

Pug develops new charms every day. I think,
in the prehistoric period of his existence, before he
came to me, he had led a sort of Caspar Hauser life,
shut up in a kennel in Bethnal Green ; and he has
had to get over much astonishment at the sight of
cows and other rural objects on a large scale, which
he marches up to and surveys with the gravity of

VOL. n. I

130

Captain Speke. [WANDSWORTH,

Letter to
John Black-
wood, 17th
Aug. 1859.

Journal,
1859.

Letter to
MlBsSara
Hennell,
20th Aug.
1859.

an "Own Correspondent," whose business it is to
observe. He has absolutely no bark; but, en
revanche, he sneezes powerfully, and has speaking
eyes, so the media of communication are abundant.
He sneezes at the world in general, and he looks
affectionately at me.

I envy you the acquaintance of a genuine
non-bookish man like Captain Speke. I wonder
when men of that sort will take their place as
heroes in our literature, instead of the inevitable
"genius"?

Aug. 20. — ^Letter from the troublesome Mr Quirk
of Attleboro, still wanting satisfaction about liggins.
I did not leave it unanswered, because he is a friend
of Chrissey's, but G. wrote for me.

Our great difiBculty is time. I am little better
than a sick nigger with the lash behind him at
present. If we go to Penmaenmawr we shall travel
all through by night, in order not to lose more than
one day; and we shaU pause at Lichfield on our
way back. To pause at Coventry would be a real
pleasure to me ; but I think, even if we could do it
on our way home, it would be better economy to
wait until the sense of hurry is past, and make it a
little reward for work done. The going to the
coast seems to be a wise measure, quite apart from

1859.] Trip to Penmaenmavrr. 131

indulgence. We are both so feeble ; but otherwise
I should have kept my resolution and remained
quiet here for the next six months.
Atig. 25. — In the evening of this day we set off Journal.

186».

on our journey to Penmaenmawr. We reached
Conway at half -past three in the morning; and
finding that it was hopeless to get a bed anywhere,
we walked about the town till the morning began
to dawn, and we could see the outline of the fine
old castle's battlemented walls. In the morning
we went to Llandudno, thinking that might suit us
better than Penmaenmawr. We found it ugly and
fashionable. Then we went ofif to Penmaenmawr,
which was beautiful to our hearts' content — or
rather discontent — for it would not receive us, being
already filled with visitors. Back again in despair
to Conway, where we got temporary lodgings at
one of the numerous Joneses. This particular Jones
happened to be honest and obliging, and we did
well enough for a few days in our indoor life, but
out of doors there were cold winds and rain. One
day we went to Abergele and found a solitary house,
called Beach House, which it seemed possible we
might have at the end of a few days. But no!
And the winds were so cold on this northerly coast,
that George was not sorry, preferring rather to take

132 Return by Lichfield. [WANDSWORTH,

jouniai, flight southward. So we set out again on 31st, and
reached Lichfield about half-past five. Here we
meant to pass the night, that I might see my
nieces — dear Chrissey's orphan children — Emily
and Kate. I was much comforted by the sight of
them, looking happy, and apparently under excel-
lent care in Miss Eborall's school. We slept at the
" Swan," where I remember being with my father and
mother when I was a little child, and afterwards
with my father alone, in our last journey into Der-
byshire. The next morning we set off again, and
completed our journey to Weymouth. Many deli-
cious walks and happy hours we had in our fort-
night there. A letter from Mr Langford informed
us that the subscription for the sixth edition of
*Adam Bede' was 1000. Another pleasant inci-
dent was a letter from my old friend and school-
fellow, Martha Jackson, asking if the author of
'Adam Bede' was Tier Marian Evans.

Sept. 16. — ^We reached home, and found letters
awaiting us — one from Mr Quirk, finally renounc-
ing Liggins. — ^with tracts of an ultra-evangelical
kind for me, and the Parish Mag., &c., from the
Eev. Erskine Clark of St Michael's, Derby, who had
written to me to ask me to help him in this sort
of work.

1859.] The EnglishwomarCs Journal. 1 33

I have just been reading, with deep interest and Letter to

lladAine

heart-stirring, the article on the Infant Seamstresses Bodicbon,

, -ri , . , , -r 1 f T ^7tb Sept.

in the ' Englishwoman s J oumaL I am one among i869.
the grateful readers of that moving description —
moving because the writer's own soul was moved
by love and pity in the writing of it. These are
the papers that will make the 'Journal' a true
organ with a fimdion. I am writing at the end of
the day, on the brink of sleep, too tired to think
of anything but that picture of the little sleeping
slop-worker who had pricked her tiny finger so.
Sept 18. — ^A volume of devotional poetry from Joumai,

1869.

the authoress of * Visiting my Kelations/ with an
inscription admonishing me not to be beguiled by
the love of money. In rrmch anxiety and dotibt
ohowt my new novel.

Oct. 7. — Since the last entry in my Joumai various
matters of interest have occurred. Certain " new "
ideas have occurred to me in relation to my novel,
and I am in better hope of it. At Weymouth I
had written to Blackwood to ask him about terms,
supposing I published in * Maga.' His answer de-
termined me to decline. On Monday, the 26th, we
set out on a three days' journey to Lincolnshire
and back — ^very pleasant and successful both as to
weather and the object I was in search of. A less

134 'Physiology of Common Life! [WANDSWORTH,
Journal, pleasant business has been a correspondence with a

1869.

cretin, — a Warwickshire magistrate, who undertakes
to declare the process by which I wrote my books
— and who is the chief propagator and maintainer
of the story that liggins is at the bottom of the
* Clerical Scenes ' and * Adam Bede/ It is poor
(xeorge who has had to conduct the correspondence,
making his head hot by it, to the exclusion of more
fructifying work. To-day, in answer to a letter
from Sara, I have written her an account of my
interviews with my Aunt SamueL This evening
comes a letter from Miss Brewster, full of well-
meant exhortation.
Letter to The vcry best bit of news I can tell you to begin

Charles L.

Lewes, 7th with is that your father's ' Physiology of Common

Oct. 1859. x-o > .

Life IS selling remarkably well, being much in
request among medical students. You are not to
be a medical student, but I hope, nevertheless, you
will by-and-by read the work with interest. There
is to be a new edition of the ' Sea-side Studies ' at
Christmas, or soon after — a proof that this book
also meets with a good number of readers. I wish
you could have seen to-day, as I did, the delicate
spinal cord of a dragon-fly — like a tiny thread with
tiny beads on it — ^which your father had just dis-
sected ! He is so wonderfully clever now at the

1859.] Mudccd Party. 135

dissection of these delicate things, and has attained Letter to

Charles L.

this cleverness entirely by devoted practice during Lewe«. rth
the last three years. I hope you have some of his
resolution and persistent regularity in work. I
think you have, if I may judge from your applica-
tion to music, which I am always glad to read of in
your letters. I was a very idle practiser, and I
often regret now that when I had abundant time
and opportunity for hours of piano playing, I used
them so little. I have about eighteen Sonatas and
Symphonies of Beethoven, I think, but I shall be
delighted to find that you can play them better
than I can. I am very sensitive to blunders and
wrong notes, and instruments out of time; but I have
never played much from ear, though I used to play
from memory a great deal The other evening Mr
Kgott, whom you remember, Mr Bedford, another
friend of your father's, and Mr Wilkie Collins, dined
with us, and we had a charming musical evening :
Mr Pigott has a delicious tenor voice, and Mr Red-
ford a fine baritone. The latter sings " Adelaide,'*
that exquisite song of Beethoven's, which I should
like you to learn. Schubert's songs, too, I especially
delight in ; but, as you say, they are difBcult. Letter to

Hiss Sara

It is pleasant to have to tell you that Mr Brace- Henneii,

1.111 1 1 1 11.1 ^^^ ^*'**

bridge has been at last awakened to do the nght 1859.

136 Mr Bracebridge and Liggins, [WANDSWORTH,
Letter to thing. This morning came a letter enclosing the

Miss Sara

Henneii, followmg to me: —

10th Oct. -^m- -, -r 1 11

1869. "Madame, I have much pleasure on receivmg

your declaration that '&c. &c./ in replying that
I frankly accept your declaration as the truth,
and I shall repeat it, if the contrary is again
asserted to me."

This is the first symptom we have had from him
of common-sense. I am very thankful — for it ends
transactions with him.

Mr Lewes is of so sensitive a temperament, and
so used to feeling more angry and more glad on my
behalf than his own, that he has been made, several
mornings, quite unable to go on with his work by
this irritating correspondence. It is all my fault,
for if he didn't see in the first instance that I am
completely upset by anything that arouses unloving
emotions, he would never feel as he does about outer
sayings and doings. No one is more indiJBFerent
than he is to what is said about himself. No more
about my business, let us hope, for a long while to
come!

The Congreves are settled at home again now —
blessing us with the sight of kind faces — ^Mr Con-
greve beginning his medical course.

Delicious confusion of ideas ! Mr Lewes, walk-

1869.] Sequel to 'Adam Bede *! 137

ing in Wandsworth, saw a good woman cross over the
street to speak to a blind man. She accosted him
with, " Well, / knew you, though you are dark ! "
I wish you had read the letter you enclosed to Letter to

John Black*

me ; it is really curious. The writer, an educated wood, leui

_ - , , , , « Oct 1869.

person, asks me to perfect and extend the benefit
' Adam Bede ' has " conferred on society " by writing
a seqtiel to it, in which I am to tell all about Hetty
after her reprieve : " Arthur's eflforts to obtain the
reprieve, and his desperate ride after obtaining it
— ^Dinah on board the convict ship — ^Dinah's letters
to Hetty — ^and whatever the author might choose
to reveal concerning Hetty's years of banishment.
Minor instances of the incompleteness which in-
duces an unsatisfactory feeling may be alleged in
the disposal of the locket and ear-rings — which
everybody expects to reappear — ^and in the incident
of the pink silk neckerchief, of which all would like
to hear a little more " ! !

I do feel more than I ought about outside sayings
and doings, and I constantly rebuke myself for all
that part of my susceptibility, which I know to
be weak and egoistic ; still what is said about one's
art is not merely a personal matter — ^it touches the
very highest things one lives for. Trv;th in art is
so startling that no one can believe in it as art. and

138 ' Sister Maggie! [WANDSWOBTH,

Letter to the specific forms of religious life which have made

John Black- .

wood, 16th some of the grandest elements m human history are

Oct. 1869. , , , , .. , .^1 • ^1

looked down upon as if they were not within the
artist's sympathy and veneration and intensely-
dramatic reproduction. "I do well to be angry"
on that ground, don't I ? The simple fact is, that
I never saw anything of my aunt's writing, and
Dinah's words came from me "as the tears come
because our heart is full, and we can't help them."

If you were living in London instead of at Edin-
burgh, I should ask you to read the first volume of
* Sister Maggie ' at once, for the sake of having your
impression, but it is inconvenient to me to part with
the MS. The great success of *Adam ' makes my
writing a matter of more anxiety than ever. I
suppose there is a little sense of responsibility
mixed up with a great deal of pride. And I think
I should worry myself still more if I began to print
before the thing is essentially complete. So on all
grounds it is better to wait. How clever and pic-
turesque the " Horse-dealer in Syria " is ! I read
him with keen interest, only wishing that he saw
the seamy side of things rather less habitually.
Excellent Captain Speke can't write so well, but
one follows him out of grave sympathy. That a man
should live through such things as that beetle in

1869.] First Volume Finished. 139

his ear ! Such papers as that make the spedcdiU
of * Blackwood ' — one sees them nowhere else.
Oct. 16. — ^Yesterday came a pleasant packet of Jownai,

1859.

letters : one from Blackwood saying that they are
printing a seventh edition of ' Adam Bede ' (of 2000),
and that ' Clerical Scenes ' will soon be exhausted.
I have finished the first volume of my new novel,
' Sister Maggie ; ' have got my legal questions an-
swered satisfactorily, and when my headache has
cleared off, must go at it full speed.

Oct. 25. — The day before yesterday Herbert
Spencer dined with us. We have just finished
reading aloud 'Pfere Goriot' — a hateful book. I
have been reading lately and have nearly finished
Comte's * Catechism.'

Oct. 28. — Eeceived from Blackwood a cheque
for £400, the last payment for * Adam Bede ' in the
terms of the agreement. But in consequence of the
great success, he proposes to pay me £800 more at
the beginning of next year. Yesterday Smith, the
publisher, called to make propositions to G. about
writing in the 'Comhill Magazine.'

I beg that you and Major Blackwood will accept Letter to

. 1 T • - . «. , John Black-

my thanks for your proposal to give me a further wood, 28th
share in the success of 'Adam Bede,' beyond the
terms of our agreement, which are fulfilled by the

140

GeTierosity of Blackwood. [wANDSWOBTH,

Letter to
John Black-
wood, 28tb
Oct 1859.

Journal,
1859.

Letter to
Miss Sara
Hennell,
11th Nov.
1859.

second cheque for £400, received this morning.
Neither you nor I ever calculated on half such a
success, thinking that the book was too quiet, and
too unflattering to dominant fashion, ever to be
very popular. I hope that opinion of ours is a
guarantee that there is nothing hollow or transient
in the reception 'Adam ' has met with. Sometimes
when I read a book which has had a great success,
and am unable to see any valid merits of an artistic
kind to account for it, I am visited with a horrible
alarm lest 'Adam,' too, should ultimately sink into
the same class of outworn admirations. But I
always fall back on the fact that no shibboleth and
no vanity is flattered by it, and that there is no
novelty of mere form in it which can have delighted
simply by startling.

Nov. 10. — ^Dickens dined with us to-day, for the
first time, and after he left I went to the Congreves',
where George joined me, and we had much chat —
about George Stephenson, religion, &c.

A very beautiful letter — ^beautiful in feeling —
that I have received from Mrs Gaskell to-day,
prompts me to write to you and let you know how
entirely she has freed herself from any imputation
of being imwilling to accept the truth when it has
once clearly presented itself as truth. Since she

1859.] Mrs Oaskdl and Ziggins. 141

has known " on authority " that the two books are Letter to

MiMSarm

mine, she has re-read them, and has written to me, Henneii,

11th Nov

apparently on the prompting they gave in that 1859.
second reading, — very sweet and noble words they
are that she has written to me. Yesterday Dickens
dined with us, on his return from the country.
That was a great pleasure to me : he is a man one
can thoroughly enjoy talking to — there is a strain of
real seriousness along with his keenness and humour.

The liggins affair is concluded so far as any action Letter to

HissSam

of ours is concerned, since Mr Quirk (the inmost Henneii,

. , , -r V , 1 1 , . . 14th Nov

citadel, I presume) has surrendered by wntmg an isso.
apology to Blackwood, saying he now believes he
was imposed on by Mr Liggins. As to Miss Mar-
tineau, I respect her so much as an authoress, and
have so pleasant a recollection of her as a hostess
for three days, that I wish that distant impression
from herself and her writings to be disturbed as
Uttle as possible by mere personal details. Any-
thing she may do, or say, or feel concerning me
personally, is a matter of entire indifference: I
share her bitterness with a large number of far
more blameless people than myself. It can be of
no possible benefit to me, or any one else, that I
should know more of those things, either past,
present, or to come. " I do owe no man anything,"

1859.

142 Dickens's Periodicals, [WANDSWORTH,

Letter to except to Write honestly and religiously what conies

Miss Sara

Henneii, from my inwaid promptings ; and the freer I am

14th Nov.

1869. kept of all knowledge of that comparatively small

circle who mingle personal regards or hatred with
their judgment or reception of my writings, the
easier it will be to keep my motives free from all
indirectness and write truly.
Journal, Nov. 18. — On Monday Dickens wrote asking

me to give him, after I have finished my present
novel, a story to be printed in *A11 the Year
Eound' — ^to begin four months after next Easter,
and assuring me of my own terms. The next day
G. had an interview by appointment with Evans
(of Bradbury & Evans), and Lucas, the editor of
* Once a Week,' who, after preliminary* pressing of
G. himself to contribute, put forward their wish that
I should give them a novel for their Magazine.
They were to write and make an oflPer, but have
not yet done so. We have written to Dickens say-
ing that time is an insurmoimtable obstacle to his
proposition, as he puts it.

I am reading Thomas k Kempis.

Nov. 19. — ^Mr Lockhart Clarke and Mr Herbert
Spencer dined with us.

Nov. 22. — ^We have been much annoyed lately
by Newby's advertisement of a book called * Adam

1859.] Darvnn's ' Origin of Species. 143

Bede, Junior/ a sequel; and to-day Dickens has Joumai.
wntten to mention a story of the tncks which are
being used to push the book under the pretence of
its being mine. One librarian has been forced to
order the book against his will, because the public
have demanded it! Dickens is going to put an
article on the subject in ' Household Words/ in
order to scarify the rascally bookseller.

Nov. 23. — ^We began Darwin's book on * The
Origin of Species' to-night. Though full of in-
teresting matter, it is not impressive, from want of
luminous and orderly presentation.

Nov. 24. — This morning I wrote the scene be-
tween Mrs Tulliver and Wakem. G. went into
town and saw yoimg Evans (of Bradbury &
Evans), who agreed that it would be well to have
an article in * Punch ' on this scoundrelly business
of ' Adfiun Bede, Junior.' A divine day. I walked
out, and Mrs Congreve joined me. Then music,
* Arabian Nights/ and Darwin.

Nov. 25. — I am reading old Bunyan again, after
the long lapse of years, and am profoundly struck
with the true genius manifested in the simple, vig-
orous, rhythmic style.

Letter to

Thanks for * Bentley.' Some one said the writer the Bmys,

25th Nov.

of the article on *Adam Bede ' was a Mr Mozley, a i869.

1 44 ' Remie des Dmx Mondes.* [w andswobth.
Letter to clergyman, and a writer in the * Times : ' but these

the Brays,

26th Nov. reports about authorship are as often false as true.

1859.

I think it is, on the whole, the best review we have
seen, unless we must except the one in the ' Revue
des Deux Mondes,' by Emile Mont^gut. I don't
mean to read any reviews of my next book ; so far
as they would produce any eflPect, they would be
confusing. Everybody admires something that some-
body else finds fault with ; and the miller with his
donkey was in a clear and decided state of mind
compfured with the unfortunate writer who should
set himself to please all the world of review
writers. I am compelled, in spite of myself, to be
annoyed with this business of *Adam Bede, Junior/
You see I am well provided with thorns in the
flesh, lest I should be exalted beyond measure.
To part with the copyright of a book which sells
16,000 in one year — to have a liggins and an
unknown writer of one's " Sequel" all to one's self
— is excellent discipline.

We are reading Darwin's book on Species, just
come out after long expectation. It is an elaborate
exposition of the evidence in favour of the De-
velopment Theory, and so makes an epoch. Do
you see how the publishing world is going mad
on periodicals ? If I could be seduced by such

1859.] Likmg for Algebra, 145

s, I might have written three poor novels, and Letter to

Um Brayi,

made my fortune in one year. Happily, I have no 26th Nov.

1859.

need to exert myself when I say "Avaunt thee,
Satan!" Satan, in the form of bad writing and
good pay, is not seductive to me.
Nov. 26. — Letter from Lucas, editor of * Once a Jounuu.

1869.

Week,' anxious to come to terms about my writing
for said periodicaL
It was very pretty and generous of you to send Letter to

Charies L.

me a nice long letter out of your turn, and I Lewes, mh
think I shall give you, as a reward, other op-
portunities of being generous in the same way
for the next few months, for I am likely to be
a poor correspondent, having my head and hands
full

We have the whole of Vilmar's ' Literatur Ges-
chichte,' but not the remainder of the 'Deutsche
Humoristik.' I agree with you in liking the his-
tory of German literature, especially the earlier
ages — the birth-time of the legendary poetry.
Have you read the ' Nibelungenlied ' yet?

Whereabouts are you in Algebra ? It would be
very pleasant to study it with you, if I could pos-
sibly find time to rub up my knowledge. It is
now a good while since I looked into Algebra, but
I was very fond of it in old days, though I daresay

VOL. II. K

146 Letter from Mrs Gaskell. [WANDSWORTH,

Letter to I never went so far as you have now gone. Tell

Oharles L.

Lewes, 26th me youT latitude and longitude.

I have no memory of an autumn so disappoint-
ing as this. It is my favourite season. I delight
especially in the golden and red tints under the
purple clouds. But this year the trees were almost
stripped of their leaves before they had changed
colour — dashed ofif by the winds and rain. We
have had no autumnal beauty.

I am writing at night — ^very tired — so you must
not wonder if I have left out words, or been other-
wise incoherent.

Journal, JV(W. 29. — ^Wrotc a letter to the * Times/ and to

1859.

Delane about Newby.
Letter to] I took uo uoticc of the extract you sent me from

Madame

Bodichon, a letter of Mrs Gaskell's, being determined not to

5th Dec.

1859. engage in any writing on the topic of my author-

ship, except such as was absolutely demanded of ns.
But since then I have had a very beautiful letter
from Mrs Gaskell, and I will quote some of her
words, because they do her honour, and will incline
you to think more highly of her. She begins in
this way : " Since I heard, on authority, that you
were the author of * Scenes of Clerical life* and
' Adam Bede,* I have read them again, and I must
once more tell you how earnestly, fully, and humbly

1859.] The Rewards of the Artist. 147

I admire them. I never read anything so complete Letter to

Mftdaine

and beautiful in fiction in my life before." Very sodichon,
sweet and noble of her was it not ? She went on i869.
to speak of her having held to the notion of liggins,
but she adds, " I was never such a goose as to be-
lieve that books like yours were a mosaic of real
and ideaL" The 'Seth Bede' and 'Adam Bede,
Junior' are speculations of those who are always
ready to fasten themselves like leeches on a popular
fame. Such things must be endured : they are the
shadow to the bright fact of selling 16,000 in one
year. As to the silly falsehoods and empty opinions
afloat in some petty circles, I have quite conquered
my temporary irritation about them — indeed, I
feel all the more serene now for that very irrita-
tion. It has impressed on me more deeply how
entirely the rewards of the artist lie apart from
everything that is narrow and personal: there is
no peace imtil that lesson is thoroughly learned.
I shall go on writing from my inward promptings
— ^writing what I love and believe, what I feel to
be true and good, if I can only render it worthily —
and then leave all the rest to take its chance : " As
it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be "
with those who are to produce any art that will
lastingly touch the generations of men. We have

148 Darwin* s * Origin of Species' [WANDSWORTH,
Letter to been reading Darwin's book on the 'Origin of

Madame ^ • » • i

Bodichon, Species just now : it makes an epoch, as the

5th Dec. . « 1 . 1 1 Ti •

1859. expression of his thorough adhesion, after long

years of study, to the Doctrine of Development —
and not the adhesion of an anonym like the author
of the * Vestiges,' but of a long-celebrated naturalist.
The book is sadly wanting in illustrative facts — of
which he has collected a vast number, but reserves
them for a future book, of which this smaller one
is the avarvt coureur. This will prevent the work
from becoming popular as the 'Vestiges' did, but
it will have a great eflfect in the scientific world,
causing a thorough and open discussion of a question
about which people have hitherto felt timid. So
the world gets on step by step towards brave clear-
ness and honesty! But to me the Development
Theory, and all other explanations of processes by
which things came to be, produce a feeble impres-
sion compared with the mystery that lies under the
processes. It is nice to think of you reading our
great, great favourite Molifere, while, for the present,
we are not taking him down from the shelves — only
talking about him, as we do very often. I get a
good deal of pleasure out of the sense that some
one I love is reading and enjoying my best-loved
writers. I think the "Misanthrope" the finest, most

1859.] MolUre and Shakspeare. 149

complete production of Us kind in the world. I
know you enjoy the " sonnet " scene, and the one
between Arsino^ and C^lim^ne.
In opposition to most people, who love to read Letter to

HiBsSara

Shakspeare, I like to see his plays acted better than Henncu.

Monday

any others : his great tragedies thrill me, let them evening, 6th
be acted how they may. I think it is something
like what I used to experience in old days in listen-
ing to uncultured preachers — the emotions lay hold
of one too strongly for one to care about the medium.
Before all other plays I find myself cold and critical,
seeing nothing but actors and " properties." I like
going to those little provincial theatres. One's
heart streams out to the poor devils of actors who
get so little clapping, and will go home to so poor a
supper. One of my pleasures lately has been hear-
ing repeatedly from my Genevese friends M. and
Mme. d' Albert, who were so good to me during my
residence with them. M. d'Albert had read the
* Scenes of Clerical Life ' before he knew they were
mine, and had been so much struck with them that
he had wanted to translate them. One likes to feel
old ties strengthened 'by fresh sympathies. The
'Comhill Magazine' is going to lead oflF with great
spirit, and promises to eclipse all the other new-
bom periodicals. Mr Lewes is writing a series of

150 Christmas Day with Gongreves. [WANDSWORTH,
Letter to papers for it — "Studies in Animal life" — which

Mifis Sara

Henneu, are to be subsequently published in a book. It is

Monday

evening, 6th quite as weU that your book should not be ready

Dec 1859.

for publication just yet. February is a much better
time than Christmas. I shall be one of your most
eager readers — for every book that comes from the
heart of hearts does me good, and I quite share your
faith that what you yourself feel so deeply, and find
so precious, will find a home in some other minds.
Do not suspect that I impose on you the task of
writing letters to answer my dilettante questions.
" Am I on a bed of roses ? " I have four children
to correspond with — the three boys in Switzerland,
and Emily at Lichfield.
Journal, Dec, 15. — Blackwood proposes to give me for * The

1859. ^ ^ °

Mill on the Floss' £2000 for 4000 copies of an
edition at 31s. 6d., and after the same rate for any
. more that may be printed at the same price : £150
for 1000 at 12s.; and £60 for 1000 at 6s. I have
accepted.

Dec. 25. — Christmas Day. We all, including Pug,
dined with Mr and Mrs Congreve, and had a de-
lightful day. Mr Bridges was there too.
Letter to I don*t Hkc Christmas to go by without sending

Mrs Bray,

30th Dec. you a greeting, though I have really nothing to say
beyond that. We spent our Christmas Day with

I860.] Copyright of 'Adam Bede ' Conceded. 151

the Congreves, shutting up our house, and taking Letter to
our servant and Pug with us. And so we ate our soth Dec

1869.

turkey and plum -pudding in very social, joyous
fashion with those charming friends. Mr Bridges
was there too.

We are meditating flight to Italy when my
present work is done, as our last bit of vagrancy for
a long, long while. We shall only stay two months,
doing nothing but absorb.

I don't think I have anything else to tell, except

that we, being very happy, wish all mortals to be in

like condition, and especially the mortals we know

in the flesh. Human happiness is a web with many

threads of pain in it — that is always sub cmditum —

"Twist ye, twine ye, even so," &c., &c.

I never before had so pleasaut a New Year's Letter to

« John Black-

greeting as your letter containing a cheque for £800, wood, 3d

Jan. 1860.

for which I have to thank you to-day. On every
ground — ^including considerations that are not at all
of a monetary kind — ^I am deeply obliged to you
and to Major Blackwood for your liberal conduct in
relation to 'Adam Bede.'

As, owing to your generous concession of the
copyright of 'Adam Bede,' the three books will be
henceforth on the same footing, we shall be deliv-
ered from further discussion as to terms.

152 Title of New Navel [WANDSWORTH,

Letter to We 8X6 demurring about the title. Mr Lewes is

John Black- ,.. » nn -rr ^ m 11' r *J*

wood, 8d beginning to prefer The House of Tvlhver ; or, lAje

Jan. I860. ,»« ii . /.«• -»«-•«

071 the, Floss, to our old notion of ' Sister Maggie/
The TvUivers; or, Life on the Floss, has the advan-
tage of slipping easily off the lazy English tongue,
but it is after too common a fashion ('The New-
comes/ 'The Bertrams/ &c., &c.) Then there is
The TvUiver Family ; or. Life on the Floss. Pray
meditate and give us your opinion.

I am very anxious that the ' Scenes of Clerical
Life' should have every chance of impressing the
public with its existence : first, because I think it
of importance to the estimate of me as a writer that
'Adam Bede' should not be counted as my only
book; and secondly, because there are ideas pre-
sented in these stories about which I care a good
deal, and am not sure that I can ever embody again.
This latter reason is my private affair, but the other
reason, if valid, is yours also. I must tell you that
I had another cheering letter to-day besides yours :
one from a person of mark in your Edinburgh
University,^ full of the very strongest words of
sjrmpathy and encouragement, hoping that my life
may long be spared " to give pictures of the deeper
life of this age." So I sat down to my desk with a

i Professor Blackie.

\

I860.] Doom of Futile Writers, 153

delicious confidence that my audience is not made Letter to

« . IT , , -ri. 1 . John Black-

up of reviewers and literary clubs. If there is any wood, sd

truth in me that the world wants, nothing will

hinder the world from drinking what it is athirst

for. And if there is no needful truth in me, let me,

howl as I may in the process, be hurled into the

Domdaniel, where I wish all other futile writers

to sink.

Your description of the " curling " made me envy
you the sight.

The sun is shining with us too, and your pleasant Letter to

, . , . 1 • 1 1 T Charles L.

letter made it seem to shine more brightly. I am Lewes, 4th
not going to be expansive in this appendix to your
father's chapter of love and news, for my head is
tired with writing this morning — ^it is not so young
as yours, you know, and, besides, is a feminine head,
supported by weaker muscles, and a weaker diges-
tive apparatus than that of a young gentleman with
a broad chest and hopeful whiskers. I don't wonder
at your being more conscious of your attachment to
Hofwyl now the time of leaving is so near. I fear
you will miss a great many things in exchanging
Hofwyl, with its snowy mountains and glorious
spaces, for a very moderate home in the neighbour-
hood of London. You will have a less various,
more arduous life : but the time of Enthehrung or

/

154

Blackwood Suggests Title, [wandsworth,

Letter to
Charles L.
Lewes, 4th
Jan. 1860.

Letter to
John Black-
wood, 6th
Jan. 1860.

Journal,
1860.

Entsagung must begin, you know, for every mortal
of us. And let us hope that we shslll aU — ^father
and mother and sons — ^help one another with love.

What jolly times you have had lately ! It did
us good to read of your merrymaking.

'The Mill on the Floss' be it then! The only
objections are, that the mill is not strictly on the
Moss, being on its small tributary, and that the
title is of rather laborious utterance. But I think
these objections do not deprive it of its advantage
over 'The Tullivers; or, Life on the Floss' — the
only alternative, so far as we can see. Pray give
the casting-vote.

Easter Monday, I see, is on the 8th April, and I
wish to be out by the middle or end of March.
Illness apart, I intend to have finished VoL III.
by the beginning of that month, and I hope no
obstacle will impede the rapidity of the printing.

Jan. 11. — I have had a very delightful letter of
sympathy from Professor Blackie of Edinburgh,
which came to me on New Year's morning, and a
proposal from Blackwood to publish a third edition
of 'Clerical Scenes' at 12s. George's article in
the 'Comhill Magazine '—the first of a series of
" Studies in Animal life " — ^is much admired, and in
other ways our New Year opens with happy omens.

I860.] ' The Mill on the Floss: 155

Thank you for letting me see the specimen Letter to

John Black-
advertisements ; they have helped us to come to a wood, i2tii

decision — ^namely, for 'The Mill on the Floss/ *°*

I agree with you that it will be well not to pro-
mise the book in March — not because I do not
desire and hope to be ready, but because I set my
face against all pledges that I am not sure of being
able to fulfil. The third volume is, I fancy, always
more rapidly written than the rest. The third
volume of ' Adam Bede ' was written in six weeks,
even with headaching interruptions, because it was
written under a stress of emotion, which first
volumes cannot be. I will send you the first
volume of 'The Mill' at once. The second is
ready, but I would rather keep it as long as I can.
Besides the advantage to the book of being out by
Easter, I have another reason for wishing to have
done in time for that. We want to get away for
two months to Italy, if possible, to feed my mind
with fresh thoughts, and to assure ourselves of that
fructifying holiday before the boys are about us,
making it difl&cult for us to leave home. But you
may rely on it that no amount of horse-power would
make me hurry over my book, so as not to do my
best. If it is written. fast, it will be because I can't
help writing it fast.

156 Seeing Friends, [wandsworth,

Journal, Jan, 16. — Finished my second volume this mom-

1860.

ing, and am going to send off the MS. of the first
volume to-morrow. We have decided that the title
shall be ' The Mill on the Floss.' We have been
reading * Humphrey Clinker ' in the evenings, and
have been much disappointed in it, after the praise
of Thackeray and Dickens.

Jan. 26.— Mr Pigott, Mr Bedford, and Mr F.

Chapman dined with us, and we had a musical

evening, — Mrs Congreve and Miss Bury* joining us

after dinner.

Letter to Thauks for your letter of yesterday, with the

John Black- ^ J J'

wood, 28th Genevese enclosure. No promise, alas ! of smallest

Jan. 1860.

watch expressing largest admiration, but a desire
for "permission to translate."

I have been invalided for the last week, and, of
course, am a prisoner in the castle of Giant Despair,
who growls in my ear that ' The Mill on the Floss '
is detestable, and that the last volume will be the
climax of that general detestableness. Such is the
elation attendant on what a self-elected lady corre-
spondent of mine from Scotland calls my " exciting
career '* !

I have had a great pleasure this week. Dr
Inman of Liverpool has dedicated a new book

^ Mrs Congreve's sister.

I860.] Sir Edvxird BiUtver Lytton. 157

('Foundation for a New 'Theory and Practice of Letter to

John Black-

Medicine ') " to G. H. Lewes, as an acknowledgment wood, 28th
of benefit received from noticing his close observa-
tion and clear inductive reasoning in * Sea-side
Studies' and the 'Physiology of Common life/"

That is really gratifying, coming from a physi-
dan of some scientific mark, who is not a personal
friend.

Feb, 4. — Came this morning a letter from Black- Joumai,

I860.

wood announcing the despatch of the first eight
sheets of proof of 'The Mill on the Floss,' and
expressing his delight in it. To-night G. has read
them, and says — " Ganz famos / " Ebenezer !

Feb. 23. — Sir Edward Lytton called on us. Guy
Darrell in proprid persond.

Sir Edward Lytton called on us yesterday. The Letter to

T 1 • /I • 1 # ^^^^ Black'

conversation lapsed chiefly mto monologue, from wood.2sd
the difficulty I found in making him hear, but
under all disadvantages I had an agreeable impres-
sion of his kindness and sincerity. He thinks the
two defects of 'Adam Bede' are the dialect and
Adam's marriage with Dinah; but, of course, I
would have my teeth drawn rather than give up
either.

Jacobi told Jean Paul that unless he altered
the diTuyaemefnt of his Titan, he would withdraw his

1860.

158 Lawrence's Portrait. [WANDSWORTH,

Letter to friendship from him; arid I am preparing myself

JohnBlAck- . . t n i.

wood,28d for your lastmg enmity on the ground of the

Feb. 1860.

tragedy in my third volume. But an imfortunate
duck can only lay blue eggs, however much white
ones may be in demand.
Journal, ^gj. 29. — G. has bccn in the town to-day, and

has agreed for £300 for 'The Mill on the Floss'
from Harpers of New York. This evening, too,
has come a letter from Williams & Norgate, say-
ing that Tauchnitz will give £100 for the Gterman
reprint ; also, that ' Bede Adam ' is translated into
Hungarian.

March 5. — ^Yesterday Mr Lawrence, the portrait
painter, lunched with us, and expressed to G. his
wish to take my portrait.

March 9. — ^Yesterday a letter from Blackwood,
expressing his strong delight in my third volume,
which he had read to the beginning of " Borne along
by the Tide." To-day young Blackwood called, and
told us, among other things, that the last copies of
'Clerical Scenes' had gone to-day — twelve for
export. Letter came from Germany, announcing
a translation of G.'s 'Biographical History of
Philosophy/

March 11.— To-day the first volume of the Ger-
man translation of 'Adam Bede ' came. It is done

I860.] ' Mill on the Floss ' Finished. 159

by Dr Frese, the same man who translated the joumai,

1860.

'life of Goethe/

March 20. — Professor Owen sent me his ' Palseon-
tology' to-day. Have missed two days of work
from headache, and so have not yet finished my
book.

March 21. — Finished this morning ' The Mill on
the Floss/ writing from the moment when Maggie,
carried out on the water, thinks of her mother
and brother. We hope to start for Eome on Satur-
day, 24th.

Magnificat anima mea !

The manuscript of *The Mill on the Floss'
bears the following inscription: —
" To my beloved husband, George Henry Lewes, I
give this MS. of my third book, written in the
sixth year of our life together, at HoUy Lodge,
South Field, Wandsworth, and finished 21st March
1860."

Your letter yesterday morning helped to inspire Letter to
me for the last eleven pages, if they have any wood,22d

.,..,, -^ -x^ . ^ March I860.

mspiration m them. They were written m a/wror,
but I daresay there is not a word different from
what it would have been if I had written them at
the slowest pace.
We expect to start on Saturday morning, and to

160

Start for Italy, [WANDSWOETH,

Letter to
John Black-
wood, 22d
March 1860.

be in Eome by Palm Sunday, or else by the follow-
ing Tuesday. Of course we shall write to you
when we know what will be our address in Rome.
In the meantime news will gather.

I don't mean to send ' The Mill on the Moss ' to
any one, except to Dickens, who has behaved with
a delicate kindness in a recent matter, which I wish
to acknowledge.

I am grateful and yet rather sad to have finished
— sad that I shall live with my people on the
banks of the Floss no longer. But it is time that
I should go and absorb some new life, and gather
fresh ideas.

SUMMARY.

JANUARY 1859 TO MARCH 1860.

Looking for cases oiinvmdation in * Annual Kegist«r' — New
House — Holly Lodge, Wandsworth — Letter to John Black-
wood — George Eliot fears she has not characteristics of " the
popular author " — Subscription to *Adam Bede * 730 copies
— Appreciation by a cabinetmaker — Dr John Brown sends
* Eab and his Friends ' with an inscription — Letter to Black-
wood thereon — Tries to be hopeful — Letters to Miss Hennell
— Description of Holly Lodge — Miss Nightingale — Thoughts

I860.] SumTmry of Chapter IX. 161

on death — Scott — Mrs Clarke writes — Mr and Mrs Congreve
—Letter to Mrs Bray on effects of anxiety — Mrs Clarke
djdng — Letter to John Blackwood — ^Wishes Carlyle to read
* Adam Bede' — * Life of Frederic ' painful — Susceptihility to
newspaper criticism — Edinhurgh more encouraging than
London — Letter to Blackwood to stop puffing notices —
Letter from E. Hall, working man, asking for cheap editions
—Sale of ' Adam Bede '—Death of Mrs Clarke— 1800 copies
of ^ Adam Bede ' sold — Letter to Blackwood — Awakening to
fame — Letter to Froude — Mrs Poyser quoted in House of
Commons hy Mr Charles Buxton — Opinions of Charles
Beade, Shirley Brooks, and John Murray — Letter to John
Blackwood — ^Warwickshire correspondent insists that Liggins
is author of * Adam Bede * — ^Not flushed with success — ^Visit
to Isle of Wight — Letter to Miss Hennell on rewriting, and
pleasure in Mr and Mrs Congreve — Letter to 'Times' deny-
ing that Liggins is the author — Letter to Blackwood — The
Liggins myth— Letter from Bulwer— Finished *The Lifted
Veil'— Writing 'The Tullivers '— Mrs Congreve— I^etter to
Mrs Congreve — Faith in her — Letter from Madame Bodichon
—Reply breathing joy in sympathy — Letter to Major Black-
wood— Mr Anders's apology for the Liggins business — 'Adam
Bede' worth writing — Dulwich gallery — Blackwood gives
;^400 more in acknowledgment of ' Adam Bede's ' success —
Letter to Miss HenncU on Mrs Congreve — On difficulty of
getting cheap music in England — Professor Aytoim on
'Adam Bede'— Letter to Major Blackwood — Liggins — Mrs
Qaskell — Letter to Mrs Congreve — Dislike of Wandsworth —
To Crystal Palace to hear " Messiah," and reveals herself to
Brays as author of 'Adam Bede' — Letter to Brays — Bad
effect of talking of her books — Letter to Charles Bray —
Melancholy that her writing does not produce effect intended
—Letter to Mrs Congreve — To Switzerland by Paris — At
Schweizerho^ Lucerne, with Congreves — Mr Lewes goes to
VOL. IL L

162 Sumnmry of Chapter IX, [1859-

Hofwyl— Return to Richmond by B&le and Paris — Fourtli
edition of * Adam Bede ' (5000) sold in a fortnight — Letter
to Mrs Bray on Mrs Congreve — On the effect of her books
and feme — Herbert Spencer on * Adam Bede ' — Pamphlet to
prove that Scott's novels were written by Thomas Scott —
Letter from Dickens on * Adam Bede * referred to^Letter to
John Blackwood on " Png " — Letter to Charles Lewes — * The
Physiology of Common Life' — American proposition for a
story for ^£1200 — Letter to Mme. Bodichon — Distance from
experience artistically necessary — Letter to John Blackwood
— Development of stories — Visit to Penmaenmawr — ^Return
by Lichfield to Weymouth — Sixth edition of * Adam Bede*
— Back to Richmond— Anxiety about new novel — Journey
to Qainsboro', Lincolnshire — Letter to Miss Hennell — End
of Liggins business — Letter to John Blackwood — ^A corres-
pondent suggests a sequel to * Adam Bede * — Susceptibility
to outside opinion — Seventh edition of * Adam Bede ' — Black-
wood proposes to pay J800 beyond the bargain for success
of * Adam Bede ' — Dickens dines at HoUy Lodge — Letter to
Miss Hennell — Quotes letter from Mrs Gaskell — Miss Mar-
tineau — Dickens asks for story for * All the Year Round * —
'Adam Bede, Junior* — Reading Darwin on * Origin of
Species' — Bunyan — Letter to Mr Bray — Article on 'Adam
Bede * in * Bentley ' — In * Revue des Deux Mondes,' by feaile
Mont^gut — Reviews generally — 16,000 of * Adam Bede' sold
in year — Darwin's book — Letter to Charles Lewes — Mentions
fondness of algebra — Letter to Mme. Bodichon quoting Mrs
GJaskell's letter — ^Rewards of the artist lie apart from every-
thing personal — Darwin's book — Moli^re — Letter to Miss
Hennell — Likes to see Shakspeare acted — Hears from M.
and Mme. d' Albert — 'Comhill Magazine' — Blackwood's
terms for ^Mill on the Floss'— Christmas Day with Con-
greves— -Letter of sympathy from Professor Blackie — ^Third
edition of < Clerical Scenes '—Letters to Blackwood— Thanks

I860.] Summary of Chapter IX. 163

for concession of copyright of 'Adam Bede' — Title of new
novel considered — Suggestion of the 'Mill on the Floss*
accepted — ^The third volume of * Adam Bede ' written in six
weeks — Depression with the *Mill' — Sir Edward Lytton —
*Adam Bede' translated into Hungarian and Qerman —
'Mill on the Floss' finished — Letter to Blackwood — Sad at
finishing — Start for Italy.

164

CHAPTEE X.

Italy. 1860. We have finished our journey to Italy — the journey
I had looked forward to for years, rather with the
hope of the new elements it would bring to my
culture, than with the hope of immediate pleasure.
Travelling can hardly be without a continual current
of disappointment if the main object is not the
enlargement of one's general life, so as to make
even weariness and annoyances enter into the sum
of benefit. One great deduction to me from the
delight of seeing world-famous objects is the fre-
quent double consciousness which tells me that I
am hot enjoying the actual vision enough, and
that when higher enjoyment comes with the repro-
duction of the scenes in my imagination, I shall
have lost some of the details, which impress me too
feebly in the present because the faculties are not
wrought up into energetic action.

I have no other journal than the briefest record

s

[i860.] Passage of Mont Cenis. 165

of what we did each day ; so I shall put down my iwy,
recollections whenever I happen to have leisure and
inchnation — just for. the sake of making clear to
myself the impressions I have brought away from
our three months' travel.

The first striking moment in our journey was
when we arrived, I think about eleven o'clock at
night, at the point in the ascent of the Mont Cenis
where we were to quit the diligences and take to
the sledges. After a hasty drink of hot coflfee in
the roadside inn, our large party — the inmates of
three diligences — ^turned out. into the starlight to
await the signal for getting into the sledges. That
signal seemed to be considerably on in the future —
to be arrived at through much confusion of luggage
lifting, voices, and leading about of mules. The
human bustle and confusion made a poetic contrast
with the sublime stillness of the star-lit heavens
spread over the snowy table-land and surrounding
heights. The keenness of the air contributed strongly
to the sense of novelty : we had left our everyday
conventional world quite behind us, and were on a
visit to Nature in her private home.

Once closely packed in our sledge, congratulating
ourselves that after all we were no more squeezed
than in our diligence, I gave myself up to as many

166 Passage of Mont Cenis. [TURIN,

Italy, 1860. naps OS chose to take possession of me, and actually
slept without very considerable interruption till we
were near the summit of the mighty pass. Already
there was a faint hint of the morning in the star-
light which showed us the vast sloping snow-fields
as we commenced the descent. I got a few glimpses
of the pure far-stretching whiteness before the
sharpening edge of cold forced us to close the
window. Then there was no more to be seen till
it was time to get out of the sledge and ascend the
diligence once more : not, however, without a pre-
liminary struggle with the wind, which fairly blew
me down on my slippery standing- groimd. The
rest of our descent showed us fine varied scenes of
mountain and ravine till we got down at Susa,
where breakfast and the railway came as a desirable
variety after our long mountain journey and long
fast. One of our companions had been a gigantic
French soldier, who had in charge a bag of Grovem-
ment money. He was my vis-d-vis for some time,
and cramped my poor legs not a little with his
precious bag, which he would by no means part
from.

The approach to Turin by the railway gave us
a grand view of snowy mountains surrounding the
city on three sides. A few hours of rest spent

X

>

I860.] CouTvt Cavour. 167

there could leave no very vivid impression. A itdy, iseo.
handsome street well broken by architectural details,
with a glimpse of snowy mountains at the end of
the vista, colonnades on each side, and flags waving
their bright colours in sign of political joy — ^is the
image that usually rises before me at the mention
of Turin. I fancy the said street is the principal
one, but in our walk about the town we saw every-
where a similar character of prosperous well-lodged
town existence — only without the colonnades and
without the balconies and other details, which make
the principal street picturesque. This is the place
that Alfieri lived in through many of his yoimg
follies, getting tire(i of it at last for the Piedmontese
pettiness of which it was the centre. And now,
eighty years later, it is the centre of a widening life
which may at last become the life of resuscitated
Italy. At the railway station, as we waited to take
our departure for Genoa, we had a sight of the man
whose name will always be connected with the
story of that widening life — Count Cavour —
" imitant son portrait 1^ which we had seen in the
shops, with unusual closeness. A man pleasant to
look upon, with a snule half kind, half caustic;
giving you altogether the impression that he thinks
of " many matters," but thanks heaven and makes

/

1 68 Tv/rm to . Genoa. [GENOA,

Italy, iwo. no boast of them. He was there to meet the Prince
de Carignan, who was going to Gtenoa on his way
towards Florence by the same train as ourselves.
The Prince is a notability with a thick waist, bound
in by a gold belt, and with a fat face, predominated
over by a large moustache — "iVim ragionam di lui"
The railway journey from Turin was chiefly dis-
tinguished by dust ; but I slept through the latter
half, without prejudice, however, to the satisfaction
with which I lay down in a comfortable bedroom in
the Hotel Feder.

In Genoa again on a bright, warm, spring morn-
ing ! I was here eleven years ago, and the image
that visit had left in my mind was surprisingly
faithful, though fragmentary. The outlook from our
hotel was nearly the same as before— over a low
building with a colonnade, at the masts of the
abundant shipping. But there was a striking
change in the interior of the hotel. It was, like
the other, a palace adapted to the purposes of an
inn — but be-carpeted and be-fumished with an
exaggeration of English fashion.

"We lost no time in turning out after breakfast
into the morning sunshine. George was enchanted
with the aspect of the place, as we drove or walked
along the streets. It was his first vision of any-

"N

I860.] Streets of Genoa. 1 69

thing corresponding to his preconception of Italy. itdy,iwo.
After the Adlergasse in Niimberg surely no streets
can be more impressive than the Strada Nuova and
Strada Nuovissima at Gtenoa. In street architecture
I can rise to the highest point of the admiration
given to the Palladian style. And here in these
chief streets of Glenoa the palaces have two ad-
vantages over those of Florence : they form a series,
creating a general impression of grandeur of which
each particular palace gets the benefit; and they
have the open gateway, showing the cortile within —
sometimes containing grand stone staircases. And
all this architectural splendour is accompanied with
the signs of actual prosperity. Geneva la Superba
is not a name of the past merely.

We ascended the tower of S. Maria di Carignano
to get a panoramic view of the city with its em-
bosoming hills and bay — saw the Cathedral with its
banded black-and-white marble — the Churches of
the Annunziata and Sant' Ambrogio, with their
wealth of gilding and rich pink-brown marbles — the
Palazzo Rosso, with its collection of eminently for-
gettable pictures, — and the pretty gardens of the
Palazzo Dona, with their flourishing green close
against the sea.

A drive in the direction of the Campo Santo

/

170 Trvp to Pisa, [leghorn,

Italy, 186a along the dry pebbly bed of the river showed us
the terraced hills planted with olives, and many pic-
turesque groups of the common people with mules
or on carts ; not to mention what gives beauty to
every comer of the inhabited world — the groups of
children squatting against walls or trotting about
by the side of their elders, or grinning together over
their play.

One of the personages we were pleased to en-
counter in the streets here was a quack — a Dulca-
mara — amounted on his carriage and holding forth
with much brio before proceeding to take out the
tooth of a negro, already seated in preparation.

We left Genoa on the second evening — unhappily
a little too long after sundown, so that we did not
get a perfect view of the grand city from the sea.
The pale starlight could bring out no colour. We
had a prosperous passage to Leghorn.

Leghorn on a brilliant warm morning, with five
or six hours before us to fill as agreeably as pos-
sible! Of course the first thought was to go to
Pisa, but the train would not start till eleven ; so
in the meantime we took a drive about the pros-
perous-looking town, and saw the great reservoir
which receives the water brought from the distant
mountains: a beautiful and interesting sight — to

x^

imi] Description of Pisa, 171

look into the glassy depth and see columns and itdy, iseo.
grand arches reflected as if in mockery and frus-
tration of one's desire to see the bottom. But in
one comer the light fell so as to reveal that reality
instead of the beautiful illusion. On our way back
we passed the Hebrew synagogue, and were glad
of our coachman's suggestion that we should enter,
seeing it was the Jews' Sabbath.

At Pisa we took a carriage and drove at once to
the cathedral, seeing as we went the well-looking
lines of building on each side of the Amo.

A wonderful sight is that first glimpse of the
cathedral, with the leaning campanile on one
side and the baptistery on the other, green turf
below and a clear blue sky above ! The structure
of the campanile is exquisitely light and graceful —
tier above tier of small circular arches, supported
by delicate round pillars narrowing gradually in
circumference, buf very slightly, so that there is
no striking difference of size between the base and
smnmit. The campanile is all of white marble,
but the cathedral has the bands of black and
white, softened in eflfect by the yellowing wliich
time has given to the white. There is a family
likeness among all these structures : they all have
the delicate little colonnades and circular arches.

/

172 Leghorn to Civita Vecchia, [ROME,

Italy, 1860. But the baptistery has stronger traits of the Gothic
style in the pinnacles that crown the encircling
colonnade.

After some dusty delay outside the railway
station, we set off back again to livomo, and
forthwith got on board our steamboat again — to
awake next morning (being Palm Sunday) at Civita
Vecchia. Much waiting before we were allowed
to land; and again much waiting for the clumsy
process of "visiting" our luggage. I was amused
while sitting at the Ihgana, where almost every
one was cross and busy, to see a dog making his
way quietly out with a bone in his mouth.

Getting into our railway carriage, our vis-d-vis —
a stout, amiable, intelligent livomian, with his wife
and son, named Dubreux — exclaimed, " Q'en est
fini d'un peuple qui n'est pas capable de changer
ime bfetise comme 9a ! " George got into pleasant
talk with him, and his son, about Edinburgh and
the scientific men there — the son having been
there for some time in order to go through a course
of practical science. The father was a naturalist —
an entomologist, I think.

It was an interesting journey from Civita Vecchia
to Eome : at first a scene of rough, hilly character,
then a vast plain, frequently marshy, crowded with

N

I860.] First Sight of Borne. 173

asphodels, inhabited by buffaloes ; here and there a itaiy, \wo
falcon or other slow large- winged bird floating and
alighting.

At last we came in sight of Rome, but there was
nothing imposing to be seen. The chief object was
what I afterwards knew to be one of the aqueducts,
but which I then, in the vagueness of my concep-
tions, guessed to be the ruins of baths. The rail-
way station where we alighted looked remote and
countrifled: only the omnibuses and one family
carriage were waiting, so that we were obliged to
take our chance in one of the omnibuses — that
is, the chance of finding no place left for us in
the hotels. And so it was. Every one wanted
to go to the Hotel d'Angleterre, and every one
was disappointed. We, at last, by help of some
fellow-travellers, got a small room au troisiime
at the Hotel d'Am^rique; and as soon as that
business was settled we walked out to look at
Eome — ^not without a rather heavy load of dis-
appointment on our minds from the vision we
. had of it from the omnibus windows. A weary
length of dirty, uninteresting streets had brought
us within sight of the dome of St Peter's, which
was not impressive, seen in a peeping, makeshift
manner, just rising above the houses;* and the

Z7

174 Disappointed at First, [ROME,

Italy, 1880. Costle of St Angelo seemed but a shabby like-
ness of the engravings. Not one iota had I seen
that corresponded with my preconceptions.

Our hotel was in the Strada Babuino, which
leads directly from the Piazza del Popolo to the
Piazza di Spagna. We went to the latter for our
first walk, and, arriving opposite the high broad
flights of stone steps which lead up to the TrinitJt
di Monte, stopped for the first time with a sense
that here was something not quite common and
ugly. But I think we got hardly any farther, that
evening, than the tall column at the end of the
Piazza, which celebrates the final settlement by
Pius IX. of the Virgin's Immaculate Conception.
Oh yes ; I think we wandered farther among nar-
row and ugly streets, and came into our hotel
again still with some dejection at the probable
relation our "Eome visited" was to bear to our
"Eome unvisited."

Discontented with our little room at an extrava-
gant height of stairs and price, we found and took
lodgings the next day in the Corso opposite San
Carlo, with a well-mannered Frenchman named
Peureux and his little dark Italian wife — and so
felt ourselves settled for a month. By this time
we were in better spirits; for in the morning we

I860.] View from the Capitol, 175

had been to the Capitol (Campidoglio, the modem itdy, isao.
variant for Capitolium), had ascended the tower, and
had driven to the Coliseum. The scene, looking
along the Forum to the Arch of Titus, resembled
strongly that mixture of ruined grandeur with
modem life which I had always had in my imag-
ination at the mention of Eome. The approach to
the Capitol from the opposite side is also impres-
sive: on the right hand the broad steep flight of
steps leading up to the Church and Monastery of
Ara CoeU, placed, some say, on the site of the
Arx; in the front a less steep flight of steps A
mdon leading to that lower, flatter portion of the
hill which was called the IrUenTiontium, and which
now forms a sort of piazza, with the equestrian
statue of Marcus Aurelius in the centre, and on
three sides buildings designed, or rather modified,
by Michael Angelo — on the left the Museum, on
the right the Museo dei Conservatori, and, on the
side opposite the steps, the building devoted to
pubhc offices (Palazzo dei Senatori), in the centre
of which stands the tower. On each hand at
the summit of the steps are the two Colossi, less
celebrated but hardly less imposing in their calm
grandeur than the Colossi of the Quirinal. They
are strangely streaked and disfigured by the black-

176 The Hills round Borne. [ROME,

itoiy.1860. ening weather; but their large-eyed, mild might,
gives one a thrill of awe, half like what might
have been felt by the men of old who saw the
divine twins watering their steeds when they
brought the news of victory.

Perhaps the world can hardly oflfer a more inter-
esting outlook than that from the tower of the
CapitoL The eye leaps first to the mountains that
bound the Campagna — ^the Sabine and Alban hills
and the solitary Soracte farther on to the left.
Then wandering back across the Campagna, it
searches for the Sister hills, hardly distinguish-
able now as hills. The Palatine is conspicuous
enough, marked by the ruins of the Palace of the
Caesars, and rising up beyond the extremity of the
Forum. And now, once resting on the Forum, the
eye will not readily quit the long area that begins
with the Clivus Oapitolinus and extends to the
Coliseimi — an area that was once the very focus
of the world. The Campo Vaccino, the site prob-
ably of the Comitium, was this first morning
covered with carts and animals, mingling a simple
form of actual life with those signs of the highly
artificial life that had been crowded here in ages
gone by: the three Corinthian pillars at the ex-
tremity of the Forum, said to have belonged to

i

I860.] The Temples and Palaces. 177

the Temple of Jupiter Stator; the grand temple itaiy,i86o.
of Antoninus and Faustina; the white arch of
Titus; the Basilica of Gonstantine; the temple
built by Adrian, with its great broken granite
columns scattered around on the green rising
ground; the huge arc of the Coliseum and the
arch of Gonstantine.

The scene of these great relics remained our
favourite haunt during our stay at Eome ; and one
day near the end of it we entered the enclosure of
the Glivus Gapitolinus and the excavated space of
the Forum. The ruins on the Glivus — the fa9ade
of massive columns on the. right, called the temple
of Vespasian ; the two Corinthian columns, called
the temple of Saturn, in the centre, and the arch
of Septimius Severus on the left — have their rich
colour set off by the luxuriant green, clothing the
lower masonry, which formed the foundations of
the crowded buildings on this narrow space, and as
a background to them all, the rough solidity of the
ancient wall forming the back of the central build-
ing on the Intermontium, and regarded as one of
the few remains of Eepublican constructions. On
either hand, at another angle from the arch, the
ancient road forming the double ascent of the
Glivus is seen firm and level with its great blocks

VOL. II. M

178 The Arches and Columns, [ROME,

Italy, I860, of pavement. The arch of Septimius Severus is
particularly rich in colour ; and the poorly execut-
ed bas-reliefs of military groups still look out in
grotesque completeness of attitude and expression,
even on the sides exposed to the weather. From
the Clivus, a passage, underneath the present road,
leads into the Forum, whose immense, pinkish, gran-
ite columns lie on the weather-worn white marble
pavement. The column of Phocas, with its base no
longer " buried," stands at the extreme comer near-
est the Clivus; and the three elegant colunms of
the temple (say some) of Jupiter Stator, mark the
opposite extremity : between lie traces, utterly con-
fused to all but erudite eyes, of marble steps and
of pedestals stripped of their marble.

Let me see what I most delighted in, in Eome.
Certainly this drive from the Clivus to the CoU-
seum was, from first to last, one of the chief things;
but there are many objects and many impressions
of various kinds which I can reckon up as of
almost equal interest : the Coliseum itself, with the
view from it ; the drive along the Appian Way to
the tomb of Cecilia Metella, and the view from
thence of the Campagna bridged by the aqueduct:
the baths of Titus, with the remnants of their ara-
besques, seen by the light of torches, in the now

\

I860.] The Baths and Coliseum. 179

damp and gloomy spaces ; the glimpse of the Tar- itaiy, isaa
peian rock, with its growth of cactus and rough her-
bage ; the grand bare arch brickwork of the Palace
of the Caesars rising in huge masses on the Pala-
tine; the theatre of Marcellus bursting suddenly
into view from among the crowded mean houses of
the modem city, and still more the temple of
Minerva and temple of Nerva, also set in the
crowded city of the present ; and the exterior of
the Pantheon, if it were not marred by the Papal
belfries, — these are the traces of ancient Borne that
have left the strongest image of themselves in my
mind. I ought not to leave out Trajan's coliunn,
and the forum in which it stands; though the
severe cold tint of the grey granite columns, or
fragments of columns, gave this forum rather a
dreary eflfect to me. For vastness there is perhaps
nothing more impressive in Rome than the Baths
of CaracaUa, except the Coliseum ; and I remember
that it was amongst them that I first noticed the
lovely effect of the giant fennel, luxuriant among
the crumbling brickwork.

Among the ancient sculptures, I think I must
place on a level the Apollo, the Dying Gladiator,
and the Lateran Antinous: they aflfected me equally
in different ways. After these I delighted in the

180 The Lateran and Vatican Smlptures, . [eome,

Italy, I860. Venus of the Capitol, and the Kissing Children in
the same room; the Sophocles at the Lateran
Museum; the Nile; the black laughing Centaur
at the Capitol ; the Laughing Faun in the Vatican ;
and the Sawroktonos, or Boy with the Lizard, and
the sitting statue called Menander. The Faun of
Praxiteles, and the old Faun with the infant
Bacchus, I had already seen at Munich, else I
should have mentioned them among my first
favourites. Perhaps the greatest treat we had at
the Vatican was the sight of a few statues, includ-
ing the Apollo, by torchlight — all the more impres-
sive because it was our first sight of the Vatican.
Even the mere hurrying along the vast halls, with
the fitful torchlight falling on the innumerable
statues, and busts, and bas-reliefs, and sarcophagi,
would have left a sense of awe at these crowded
silent forms which have the solemnity of suddenly
arrested life. Wonderfully grand these halls of the
Vatican are ; and there is but one complaint to be
made against the home provided for this richest
collection of antiquities — ^it is, that there is no his-
torical arrangement of them, and no catalogue. The
system of classification is based on the history of
their collection by the diflferent Popes, so that for
every other purpose but that of securing to each

I860.] St Peter's, 181

Pope his share of glory, it is a system of helter- itaiy,i860.
skelter.

Of Christian Rome, St Peter's is, of course, the
supreme wonder. The piazza, with Bernini's colon-
nades, and the gradual slope upward to the mighty
temple, gave me always a sense of having entered
some millennial new Jerusalem, where all small
and shabby things were unknown. But the exte-
rior of the cathedral itself is even ugly ; it causes
a constant irritation by its partial concealment of
the dome. The first impression from the interior
was perhaps at a higher pitch than any subsequent
impression either of its beauty or vastness; but
then, on later visits, the lovely marble, which has a
tone at once subdued and warm, was half-covered
with hideous red drapery. There is hardly any
detail one cares to dwell on in St Peter's. It is
interesting, for once, to look at the mosaic altar-
pieces, some of which render with marvellous
success such famous pictures as the Transfiguration,
the Communion of St Jerome, and the Entombment
or Disentombment of St Petronilla. And some of
the monuments are worth looking at more than
once, the chief glory of that kind being Canova's
lions. I was pleased one day to watch a group of
poor people looking with an admiration that had a

182 MedicevcU Churches, [ROME,

Italy, 1860. half-childish terror in it, at the sleeping lioii, and
with a sort of daring air thrusting their fingers
against the teeth of the waking "mane-bearer."

We ascended the dome near the end of our stay,
but the cloudy horizon was not friendly to our
distant view, and Eome itself is ugly to a bird's-eye
contemplation. The chief interest of the ascent
was the vivid realisation it gave of the building's
enormous size, and after that the sight of the inner
courts and garden of the Vatican.

Our most beautiful view of Eome and the Cam-
pagna was one we had much earlier in our stay,
before the snow had vanished from the mountains ;
it was from the terrace of the Villa Pamfili Doria.

Of smaller churches, I remember especially Santa
Maria degli Angeli, a church formed by Michael
Angelo, by additions to the grand hall in the Baths
of Diocletian — the only remaining hall of ancient
Eome; and the Church of San Clemente, where
there is a chapel painted by Masaccio, as well as a
perfect specimen of the ancient enclosure near the
tribune, called the presbytery, with the anibones or
pulpits from which the lessons and gospel were
read. Santa Maria Maggiore is an exquisitely
beautiful basilica, rich in marbles from a pagan
temple; and the reconstructed San Paolo fuori le

I860.] Sistine Chapd — Palaces. 183

Mura is a wonder of wealth and beauty, with its itaiy, i8«o.
lines of white marble columns — ^if one could pos-
sibly look with pleasure at such a perverted ap-
pliance of money and labour as a church built in
an unhealthy solitude. After St Peter's, however,
the next great monument of Christian art is the
Sistine Chapel; but since I care for the chapel
solely for the sake of its ceiling, I ought rather
to number it among my favourite paintings than
among the most memorable buildings. Certainly
this ceiling of Michael Angelo's is the most wonder-
ful fresco in the world. After it come EaphaeFs
"School of Athens" and "Triumph of Galatea," so far
as Rome is concerned. Among oil-paintings there,
I Uke best the Madonna di Foligno, for the sake of
the cherub who is standing and looking upward;
the Perugino also, in the Vatican, and the pretty
Sassoferrato, with the clouds budding angels; at
the Barberini Palace, Beatrice Cenci, and Una
Schiava, by Titian; at the Sciarra Palace, the
Joueurs de Violon, by Eaphael, another of Titian's
golden-haired women, and a sweet Madonna and
Child with a bird, by Fra Bartolomeo; at the
Borghese Palace, Domenichino's Chase, the Entomb-
ment, by Eaphael, and the Three Ages — a copy of
Titian, by Sassoferrato.

184 niumincitvm of St Peter's. [ROME,

Italy, 1860. We should have regretted entirely our efforts to
get to Eome during the Holy Week, instead of mak-
ing Florence our first resting-place, if we had not
had the compensation for wearisome, empty cere-
monies and closed museums in the wonderful spec-
tacle of the illumination of St Peter's. That, really,
is a thing so wondrous, so magically beautiful, that
one can't find in one's heart to say it is not worth
doing. I remember well the first glimpse we had,
as we drove out towards it, of the outline of the
dome like a new constellation on the black sky.

^ I thought thM was the final illumination, and was

regretting our tardy arrival, from the (Utour we had
to make, when, as our carriage stopped in front of
the cathedral, the great bell sounded, and in an
instant the grand illumination flashed out and
turned the outline of stars into a palace of gold.
Venus looked on palely.

One of the finest positions in Eome is the Monte
Cavallo (the Quirinal), the site of the Pope's palace,
and of the fountain against which are placed the
two Colossi — the Castor and Pollux, ascribed,
after a lax method of affiliation, to Phidias and
Praxiteles. Standing near this fountain, one has
a real sense of being on a hill, — city and dis-
tant ridge stretching below. Close by is the Pal-

I860.] San Pietro in Vincoli. 185

azzo Eospigliosi, where we went to see Guide's itaiy,i86o.
Aurora.

Another spot where I was struck with the view
of modem Rome (and that happened rarely) was at
San Pietro in Vincoli, on the Esquiline, where we
went to see Michael Angelo's Moses. Turning
round before one enters the church, a palm-tree in
the high foreground relieves very picturesquely the
view of the lower distance. The Moses did not
affect me agreeably : both the attitude and the ex-
pression of the face seemed to me, in that one visit,
to have an exaggeration that strained after eflfect
without reaching it. The failure seemed to me of
this kind: — ^Moses was an angry man trying to
frighten the people by his mien, instead of being
rapt by his anger, and terrible without self-con-
sciousness. To look at the statue of Christ, after
the other works of Michael Angelo at Rome, was a
surprise ; in this the fault seems to incline slightly
to the namby-pamby. The Piet^ in St Peter's has
real tenderness in it.

The visit to the Famesina was one of the most in-
teresting among our visits to Roman palaces. It is
here that Raphael painted the "Triumph of Galatea,"
and here this wonderful fresco is still bright upon
the wall. In the same room is a colossal head.

186 Modem Artists, [ROME,

Italy, 1860. drawn by Michael Angelo with a bit of charcoal,
by way of carte-de-visite, one day that he called on
Daniele di Volterra, who was painting detestably
in this room, and happened to be absent. In the
entrance-hall, preceding the Gralatea room, are the
frescoes by Eaphael representing the story of Cupid
and Psyche ; but we did not linger long to look at
them, as they disappointed us.

We visited only four artists' studios in Eome : Gib-
son's, the sculptor; Frey's, the landscape painter;
Eiedel's, -genre painter, and Overbeck's. Gibson's
was entirely disappointing to me, so far as his own
sculptures are concerned: except the Cacciatore,
which he sent to the Great Exhibition, I could see
nothing but feeble imitations of the antique — no
spontaneity and no vigour. Miss Hosmer's Beatrice
Cenci is a pleasing and new conception; and her
little Puck, a bit of humour that one would like to
have if one were a grand seigneur.

Frey is a veiy meritorious landscape painter —
finished in execution and poetic in feeling. His
Egyptian scenes — the Simoon, the Pair in the light
of Simset, and the Island of Philse, are memorable
pictures ; so is the View of Athens, with its blue
island-studded sea. Eiedel interested us greatly
with his account of the coincidence between the

I860.] Biedel and Overheck 187

views of light and colours at which he had arrived luiy, imo.
through his artistic experience, and Goethe's theory
of colours, with which he became acquainted only
after he had thought of putting his own ideas into
shape for publication. He says the majority of
painters continue their work when the sun shines
from the north — ^they paint with Uue light.

But it was our visit to Overbeck that we were
most pleased not to have missed. The man him-
self is more interesting than his pictures : a benev-
olent calm, and quiet conviction, breathes from his
person and manners. He has a thin, rather high-
nosed face, with long grey hair, set off by a maroon
velvet cap, and a grey scarf over his shoulders.
Some of his cartoons pleased me : one large one of
our Saviour passing from the midst of the throng,
who were going to cast Him from the brow of the
hill at Capernaum — one foot resting on a cloud
borne up by cherubs; and some smaller round
cartoons representing the Parable of the Ten
Virgins, and applying it to the function of the
artist.

We drove about a great deal in Eome, but were
rather afflicted in our drives by the unending walls
that enclose everything like a garden, even outside
the city gates. First among our charming drives

188 PamJUi Doria GurdcTis, [rome,

Italy, 1860. was that to the Villa Pamfili Doria — a place which
has the beauties of an English park and gardens,
with views such as no English park can show ; not
to speak of the Columbarium or ancient Eoman
burying-place, which has been disinterred in the
grounds. The compactest of all burying - places
must these Columbaria be: little pigeon-holes, tier
above tier, for the small urns containing the ashes
of the dead. In this one, traces of peacocks and
other figures in fresco, ornamenting the divisions
between the rows, are still visible. We sat down
in the sunshine by the side of the water, which is
made to fall in a cascade in the grounds fronting
the house, and then spreads out into a considerable
breadth of mirror for the plantation on the slope
which runs along one side of it. On the opposite
side is a broad grassy walk, and here we sat on
some blocks of stone, watching the little green
lizards. Then we walked on up the slope on the
other side, and through a grove of weird ilexes, and
across a plantation of tall pines, where we saw the
mountains in the far distance. A beautiful spot !
We ought to have gone there again.

Another drive was to the Villa Albani, where,
again, the view is grand. The precious sculptures
once there are all at Munich now; and the most

I860.] Villa Albani and Frascati. 189

remarkable remnants of the collection are the bas- itaiy, isao.
relief of Antinous, and the -^Esop. The Antinous
is the least beantiful of all the representations of
that sad loveliness that I have seen — be it said
in spite of Winckehnann : attitude and face are
strongly I^yptian. In an outside pavilion in the
garden were some interesting examples of Greek
masks.

Our journey to Frascati by railway was fortunate.
The day was fine, except, indeed, for the half hour
that we were on the heights of Tusculum, and
longed for a clear horizon. But the weather was ^
so generally gloomy during our stay in Eome, that
we were " thankful for small mercies " in the way
of sunshine. I enjoyed greatly our excursion up
the lull on donkey-back to the ruins of Tusculum
—in spite of our loquacious guide, who exasperated
George. The sight of the Campagna on one side :
and of Moimt Algidus, with its snow-capped fellows,
and Mount Albano, with Eocca di Papa on its
side, and Castel Gandolfo below on the other
side, was worth the trouble : to say nothing of the
little theatre, which was the most perfect example
of an ancient theatre I had then seen in that pre-
Pompeian period of my travels. After lunching at
Frascati, we strolled out to the Villa Aldobrandini,

190 TivoU, [ROME,

Italy, 1860. and enjoyed a brighter view of the Campagna in
the afternoon sunlight. Then we lingered in a
little croft enclosed by plantations, and enjoyed
this familiar-looking bit of grass with wild flowers
perhaps more, even, than the greatest novelties.
There are fine plantations on the hill behind the
villa, and there we wandered till it was time to go
back to the railway. A literally grotesque thing in
these plantations is the opening of a grotto in the
hill-side, cut in the form of a huge Greek comic
mask. It was a lovely walk from the town down-
ward to the railway station — between the olive-
clad slopes looking toward the illimitable plain.
Our best view of the aqueducts was on this journey,
but it was the tantalising sort of view one gets from
a railway carriage.

Our excursion to Tivoli, reserved till nearly the
end of our stay, happened on one of those cruel
seductive days that smile upon you at five o'clock
in the morning, to become cold and cloudy at eight,
and resolutely rainy at ten. And so we ascended
the hill through the vast venerable olive grove,
thinking what would be the effect of sunshine
among those grey fantastically twisted trunks and
boughs; and paddled along the wet streets under
umbrellas to look at the Temple of the Sibyl, and

I860.] Pictures at the Capitol. 191

to descend the ravine of the waterfalls. Yet it was itaiy. isao.
enjoyable; for the rain was not dense enough to
shroud the near view of rock and foliage. We
looked for the first time at a rock of travertine,
with its curious petrified vegetable forms; and
lower down at a mighty cavern, under which the
smaller cascade rushes — an awful hollow in the
midst of huge rocky masses. But — ^rain, rain,
rain! No possibility of seeing the Villa of Ha-
drian, chief wonder of Tivoli : and so we had our
carriage covered up, and turned homeward in

The last week of our stay we went for the first
time to the picture-gallery of the Capitol, where we
saw the famous Guercino — the *' Entombment of
Petronilla " — which we had already seen in mosaic
at St Peter's. It is a stupendous piece of painting,
about which one's only feeUng is, that it might as
well have been left undone. More interesting is
the portrait of Michael Angelo by himself — a deeply
melancholy face. And there is also a picture of a
Bishop by Giovanni Bellini, which arrested us a long
while. After these, I remember most distinctly
Veronese's Europa, superior to that we afterwards
saw at Venice; a delicious mythological Poussin,
all light and joy; and a Sebastian by Guido, ex-

192 The Lateran Musmm. [ROME,

itiuy, I860, ceptionally beautiful among the many detestable
things of his in this gallery.

The Lateran Museum, also, was a sight we had
neglected till this last week, though it turned out
to be one of the most memorable. In the classical
museum are the great Antinous, a Bacchus, and the
Sophocles; besides a number of other remains of
high interest, especially in the department of archi-
tectural decoration. In the museum of Christian
antiquities, there are, besides sculptures, copies of
the frescoes in the Catacombs — invaluable as a
record of those perishable remains. If we ever go
to Eome again, the Lateran Museum will be one of
the first places I shall wish to revisit.

We saw the Catacombs of St Calixtus on the
Appian Way — ^the long dark passages, with great
oblong hollows in the rock for the bodies long since
crumbled, and the one or two openings out of the
passages into a rather wider space, called chapels,
but no indication of paintings or other detail — our
monkish guide being an old man, who spoke with
an indistinct grunt that would not have enlightened
us if we had asked any questions. In the church
through which we entered there is a strangely bar-
barous reclining statue of St Sebastian, with arrows
sticking all over it.

I860.] Shdley's and Keats' s Graves. 193

A spot that touched me deeply was Shelley's itaiy, isw.
grave. The English cemetery in which he lies is
the most attractive burjdng-place I have seen. It
Kes against the old city walls, close to the Porta
San Paolo and the pyramid of Caius Cestius — one
of the quietest spots of old Eome. And there,
under the shadow of the old walls on one side, and
cypresses on the other, lies the Cor cordium, for
ever at rest from the unloviag cavillers of this
world, whether or not he may have entered on
other purifying struggles in some world unseen by
us. The grave of Keats lies far off from Shelley's,
unshaded by wall or trees. It is painful to look
upon, because of the inscription on the stone, which
seems to make him still speak in bitterness from
his grave.^

A wet day for the. first time since we left Paris ! Letter to
That assists our consciences considerably in urging greve, 4tu

1 1 . I. t 1 -r^ April I860.

us to write our letters on this fourth day at Eome,
for I will not pretend that writing a letter, even to
you, can be anything more alluring than a duty
when there is a blue sky over the Coliseum and the
Arch of Constantine, and all the other marvels of
this marvellous place. Since our arrival in the
middle of Sunday, I have been gradually rising from

1 " Here lies one whose name was writ in water."
VOL. II. N

194 Preparation for Disappointment [ROME,

Letter to the depth of disappointment to an intoxication of

Mrs Coii«

greve, 4th delight; and that makes me wish to do for you

April I860. , ^.^ „ - ^

what no one ever did for me — warn you that you
must expect no grand impression on your first
entrance into Eome, at least if you enter it from
Civita Vecchia. My heart sank, as it would if you
behaved shabbily to me, when I looked through the
windows of the omnibus as it passed through street
after street of ugly modern Rome, and in that mood
the dome of St Peter's and the Castle of St Angelo
— the only grand objects on our way — could only
look disappointing to me. I believe the impression
on entering from the Naples side is quite diflferent :
there, one must get a glimpse of the broken gran-
deur and Renaissance splendour that one associates
with the word "Rome." So keep up your spirits
in the omnibus when your turn comes, and believe
that you will mount the Capitol the next morning,
as we did, and look out on the Forum and the
Coliseum, far on to the Alban mountains, with
snowy Apennines behind them, and feel — ^what I
leave you to imagine, because the rain has left off,
and my husband commands me to put on my
bonnet. (Two hours later.) Can you believe that I
have not had a headache since we set out ? But I
would willingly have endured more than one to be

I860.] HemovcU to Apartments. 195

less anxious than I am about Mr Lewes's health. Letter to

Mrs Goxi«

Now that we are just come in from our walk to the greve, 4th

April I860.

Pantheon, he is obliged to lie down with terrible
oppression of the head ; and since we have been in
Eome he has been nearly deaf on one side. That is
the dark " crow that flies in heaven's sweetest air "
just now : everything else in our circumstances here
is perfect. We are glad to have been driven into
apartments, instead of remaining at the hotel as we
had intended ; for we enjoy the abundance of room
and the quiet that belong to this mode of life, and
we get our cooking and all other comforts in perfec-
tion at little more than a third of the hotel prices.
Most of the visitors to Eome this season seem to
come only for a short stay, and as apartments can't
be taken for less than a month, the hotels are full
and the lodgings are empty. Extremely unpleasant
for the people who have lodgings to let, but very
convenient for us, since we get excellent rooms in a
good situation for a moderate price. We have a
good little landlady, who can speak nothing but
Italian, so that she serves as o, parkUrice for us, and
awakens our memory of Italian dialogue — a mem-
ory which consists chiefly of recollecting Italian
words without knowing their meaning, and English
words without knowing the Italian for them.

196 j?%e French Occupation. [rome,

Letter to I shall tell you nothing of what we have seen.

Mrs Con-

greve, 4th Havc jou not a husband who has seen it all, and

April I860. __ , i « t^ ,

can tell you much better ? Except, perhaps, one
sight which might have had some interest for him,
namely, Coimt Cavour, who was waiting with other
eminences at the Turin station to receive the Prince
de Carignan, the new Viceroy of Tuscany. A really
pleasant sight — ^not thfe Prince, who is a large stout
" moustache," squeezed in at the waist with a gold
belt, looking like one of those dressed-up person-
ages who are among the chessmen that the Cavours
of the world play their game with. The pleasant
sight was Count Cavour, in plainest dress, with a
head full of power, mingled with bonhomie. We
had several fellow-travellers who belonged to Savoy,
and were full of chagrin at the prospect of the
French annexation. Our most agreeable companion
was a Baron de Magliano, a Neapolitan who has
married a French wife with a large fortune, and has
been living in France for years, but has nOw left
his wife and children behind for the sake of enter-
ing the Sardinian army, and, if possible, helping to
turn out the Neapolitan Bourbons. I feel some
stirrings of the insurrectionary spirit myself when
I see the red pantaloons at every turn in the streets
of Eome. I suppose Mrs Browning could explain

I860.] Beautiful Mothers, 197

tome that this is part of the great idea nourished Letter to

Mrs Con-
in the soul of the modem saviour Louis Napoleon, greve, 4th

and that for the French to impose a hateful govern-
ment on the Romans is the only proper sequence to
the story of the French Eevolution.

Oh, the beautiful men and women and children
here! Such wonderful babies with wise eyes, —
such grand-featured mothers nursing them ! As
one drives along the streets sometimes, one sees a
madonna and child at every third or fourth upper
window ; and on Monday a little crippled girl seated
at the door of a church looked up at us with a face
full of such pathetic sweetness and beauty, that I
think it can hardly leave me again. Yesterday we
went to see dear Shelley's tomb, and it was like a
personal consolation to me to see that simple out-
ward sign that he is at rest, where no hatred can
ever reach him again. Poor Keats's tombstone, with
that despairing bitter inscription, is almost as pain-
ful to think of as Swift's.

And what have you been doing, being, or sufifer-
ing in these long twelve days? While we were
standing with weary impatience in the custom-
house at Civita Vecchia, Mr Congreve was deliver-
ing his third lecture, and you were listening. And
what else ? Friday, Since I wrote my letter we

198 The Pope's Blessing. [kome,

Letter to have not been able to get near the post-ofl&ce.

Mrs Con-
grove, 4th Yesterday was taken up with seeing ceremonies,

''^'^- or rather with waiting for them. I knelt down to
receive the Pope's blessing, remembering what Pius
VII. said to the soldier — that he would never be
the worse for the blessing of an old man. But al-
together, these ceremonies are a melancholy, hollow
business, and we regret bitterly that the Holy Week
has taken up our time from better things. I have
a cold and headache this morning, and in other
ways am not conscious of improvement from the
Pope's blessing. I may comfort myself with think-
ing that the King of Sardinia is none the worse for
the Pope's curse. It is farcical enough that the
excommunication is posted up at the Church of St
John Lateran, out of everybody's way, and yet there
are police to guard it.

Italy, I860. How much morc I have to write about Eome!
How I should like to linger over every particular
object that has left an image in my memory ! But
here I am only to give a hasty sketch of what we
saw and did at each place at which we paused in
our three months* life in Italy.

It was on the 29th of April that we left Eome,
and on the morning of the 30th we arrived at
Naples — under a rainy sky, alas ! but not so rainy

I860.] First Impressions of Naples. 199

as to prevent our feeling the beauty of the city and itaiy, imo.
bay, and declaring it to surpass all places we had
seen before. The weather cleared up soon after our
arrival at the Hotel des ifitrangers, and after a few
days it became brilliant, showing us the blue sea,
the purple mountains, and bright city, in which we
had ahnost disbelieved as we saw them in the pic-
tures. Hardly anything can be more lovely than
Naples seen from Posilipo imder a blue sky, — ^the
irregular outline with which the town meets the
sea, jutting out in picturesque masses, then lifted
up high on a basis of rock, with the grand castle of
St Ehno and the monastery on the central height
crowning all the rest ; the graceful outline of purple
Vesuvius rising beyond the Molo, and the line of
deeply indented mountains carrying the eye along
to the Cape of Sorrento; and last of aU, Capri
sleeping between sea and sky in the distance.
Crossing the promontory of Posilipo, another won-
derful scene presents itself: white Nisida on its
island rock; the sweep of bay towards Pozzuoli;
beyond that, in fainter colours of farther distance,
the Cape of Miseno, and the peaks of Ischia.

Our first expedition was to Pozzuoli and Miseno,
on a bright warm day, with a slip-shod Neapolitan
driver, whom I christened Baboon, and who acted

200 Baioe — Avemus — Miseno, [Naples,

Italy, I860, as OUT chaiioteer throughout our stay at Naples.
Beyond picturesque Pozzuoli, jutting out with pre-
cipitous piles of building into the sea, lies Baise.
Here we halted to look at a great circular temple,
where there was a wonderful echo that made
whispers circulate and become loud on the opposite
side to that on which they were uttered. Here, for
our amusement, a young maiden and a little old
man danced to the sound of a tambourine and fife.
On our way to Baise we had stopped to see the
Lake Avemus, no longer terrible to behold, and the
amphitheatre of Cumse, now grown over with green-
sward, and fringed with garden stufif.

From Baise we went to Miseno — the Misenimi
where Pliny was stationed with the fleet — and
looked out from the promontory on the lovely
isles of Ischia and Procida. On the approach to
this promontory lies the Piscina Mirabilis, one
of the most striking remains of Eoman building.
It is a great reservoir, into which one may now
descend dryshod and look up at the lofty arches
festooned with delicate plants, while the sunlight
shoots aslant through the openings above. It was
on this drive coming back towards Pozzuoli that
we saw the Mesembryanthemum in its greatest
luxuriance — a star of amethyst with its golden

I860.] PozzuoU — Capo di Monte, 201

tassel in the centre. The amphitheatre at Pozzuoli itaiy, iwo.
is the most interesting in Italy after the Coliseum.
The seats are in excellent preservation, and the
subterranean structures for water and for the in-
troduction of wild beasts are unique. The temple
of Jupiter Serapis is another remarkable ruin, made
more peculiar by the intrusion of the water, which
makes the central structure, with its great columns
an island to be approached by a plank bridge.

In the views from Capo di Monte — the king's
summer residence — and from St Elmo, one enjoys
not only the view towards the sea, but the wide
green plain sprinkled with houses and studded with
small towns or villages, bounded on the one hand
by Vesuvius, and shut in, in every other direction,
by the nearer heights close upon Naples, or by the
subUmer heights of the distant Apennines. We
had the view from St Elmo on a clear, breezy
afternoon, in company with a Frenchman and his
wife, come from Eome with his family after a two
years' residence there — worth remembering for the
pretty bondage the brusque, stem, thin father was
under to the tiny, sickly-looking boy.

It was a grand drive up to Capo di Monte —
between rich plantations, with glimpses, as we
went up, of the city lying in picturesque irregu-

202 Poggio Reale — Cefmetery. [Naples,

Italy, I860, larfty below ; and as we went down in the other
direction, views of distant monntaiQ rising above
some pretty accident of roof or groups of trees
in the foreground.

One day we went, from this drive, along the
Poggio Eeale to the cemetery — the most ambiti-
ous burying- place I ever saw, with building after
building of elaborate architecture, serving as tombs
to various Ard-confratemitii, as well as to private
families, all set in the midst of well-kept gardens.
The hiunblest kind of tombs there, were long niches
for cofl&ns in a wall bordering the carriage -road,
which are simply built up when the cofl&n is once
in — the inscription being added on this final bit
of masonry. The lines of lofty sepulchres suggested
to one very vividly the probable appearance of the
Appian Way when the old Eoman tombs were in
all their glory.

Our first visit to the Museo Borbonico was de-
voted to the sculpture, of which there is a precious
collection. Of the famous Balbi family, found at
Herculaneum, the mother, in grand drapery, wound
round her head and body, is the most imf orgettable
— a really grand woman of fifty, with firm mouth
and knitted brow, yet not unbenignant. Farther
on in this transverse hall is a Young Faun with the

I860.] Mvseo Borbanico. 203

infant Bacchus — a different conception altogether itaiy, isco.
from the fine Munich statue, but delicious for
humour and geniality. Then there is the Aristides
—more real and speaking and easy in attitude
even than the Sophocles at Eome. Opposite is
a lovely Antinous, in no mythological character,
but in simple, melancholy beauty. In the centre
of the deep recess, in front of which these statues
are placed, is the colossal Flora, who holds up
her thin dress in too finicking a style for a colossal
goddess ; and on the floor — to be seen by ascending
a platform — is the precious, great mosaic repre-
senting the Battle of the Issus, found at Pompeii.
It is full of spirit ; the ordonnance of the figures
is very much after the same style as in the ancient
bas-reliefs, and the colours are still vivid enough
for us to have a just idea of the effect. In the
halls on each side of this central one there are
various Bacchuses and ApoUos, Atlas groaning
under the weight of the Globe, the Famese Her-
cules, the Toro Famese, and amongst other things
less memorable, a glorious Head of Jupiter.

The bronzes here are even more interesting than
the marbles. Among them there is Mercury Best-
ing, the Sleeping Faun, the little Dancing Faun,
and the Drunken Faun snapping his fingers, of

204 Pompeii. [NAPLES,

Italy, 1860. which there is a marble copy at Munich, with the
two remarkable Heads of Plato and Seneca.

But our greatest treat at the Museo Borbonico
could only be enjoyed after our visit to Pompeii,
where we went, unhappily, in the company of some
Eussians whose acquaintance G. had made at the
table cChdte. I hope I shall never forget the solem-
nity of our first entrance into that silent city, and
the walk along the street of tombs. After seeing
the principal houses, we went, as a proper climax,
to the Forum, where, amongst the lines of pedestals
and the ruins of temples and tribunal, we could
see Vesuvius overlooking us; then to the two
theatres, and finally to the amphitheatre.

This visit prepared us to enjoy the collection of
piccoli hronzi, of paintings and mosaics, at the
Museo. Several of the paintings have consider-
able positive merit. I remember particularly a
large one of Orestes and Pylades, which in com-
position and general conception might have been
a picture of yesterday. But the most impressive
collection of remains found at Pompeii and Her-
culaneum is that of the ornaments, articles of food
and domestic utensils, pieces of bread, loaves with
the bakers' names on them, fruits, com, various
seeds, paste in the vessel, imperfectly mixed, linen

I860.] Pompeian Remains, 205

just wrung in washing, eggs, oil consolidated in a itaiy, iseo.
glass bottle, wine mixed with the lava, and a
piece of asbestos; gold lace, a lens, a lanthom
with sides of talc, gold ornaments of Etruscan
character, patty -pans (!), moulds for cakes; in-
genious portable cooking apparatus, urn for hot
water, portable candelabrum, to be raised or lowered
at will, bells, dice, theatre - checks, and endless
objects that tell of our close kinship with those
old Pompeians. In one of the rooms of this col-
lection there are the Farnese cameos and engraved
gems, some of them — especially of the latter— mar-
vellously beautiful, complicated, and exquisitely min-
ute in workmanship. I remember particularly one
splendid yellow stone engraved with an elaborate
composition of Apollo and his chariot and horses
— ^a masterpiece of delicate form.

We left Eome a week ago, almost longing, at Letter to
last, to come southward in search of sunshine, greve, sti
Every one likes to boast of peculiar experience, and *^
we can boast of having gone to Eome in the very
worst spring that has been known for the last
twenty years. Here, at Naples, we have had some
brilliant days, though the wind is still cold, and
ram has often fallen heavily in the night. It is
the very best change for us after Eome: there is

206 Beauty of Naples, [NAPLES,

Letter to Comparatively little art to see, and there is nature

Mrs Ck>ii-

greve, 5th in transcendont beauty. We both think it the

May 1860.

most beautiful place in the world, and are sceptical
about Constantinople, which has not had the ad-
vantage of having been seen by us. That is the
fashion of travellers, as you know: for you must
have been bored many times in your life by people
who have insisted on it that you must go and see
the thing they have seen — there is nothing like it.
We shall bore you in that way, I daresay — so pre-
pare yourself. Our plan at present is to spend the
next week in seeing Paestum, Amalfi, Castellamare,
and Sorrento, and drinking in as much of this
Southern beauty, in a quiet way, as our souls axe
capable of absorbing.

The calm blue sea, and the moimtains sleeping
in the afternoon light, as we have seen them to-day
from the height of St Elmo, make one feel very
passive and contemplative, and disinclined to bustle
about in search of meaner sights. Yet I confess
Pompeii, and the remains of Pompeian art and life
in the Museimi, have been impressive enough to
rival the sea and sky. It is a thing never to be
forgotten — that walk through the silent city of the
past, and then the sight of utensils, and eatables,
and ornaments, and half-washed linen, and hun-

I860.] The Work-a-day World. 207

dreds of other traces of life so startlingly like our Letter to

Mrs Con-
own in its minutest details, suddenly arrested by grev©, sth

the fiery deluge. All that you will see some day,

and with the advantage of younger eyes than mine.

We expect to reach Florence (by steamboat,
alas !) on the 17th, so that if you have the charity
to write to me again, address to me there.

We thought the advance to eighteen in the num-
ber of hearers was very satisfactory, and rejoiced
over it. The most solid comfort one can fall back
upon is the thought that the business of one's life —
the work at home after the holiday is done — ^is to
help in some small nibbling way to reduce the
sum of ignorance, degradation, and misery on the
face of this beautiful earth. I am writing at night
—Mr Lewes is already asleep, else he would say,
"Send my kind regards to them alL" We have
often talked of you, and the thought of seeing you
again makes the South Fields look brighter in our
imagination than they could have looked from the
dreariest part of the world if you had not been
living in them.

The pictures at Naples are worth little: the itaiy, iseo.
Marriage of St Catherine, a small picture by Cor-
reggio; a Holy Family by Eaphael, with a sin-
gularly fine St Ann, and Titian's Paul the Third,

208 Giotto's Frescoes, [NAPLES,

Italy, I860, are the only paintings I have registered very
distinctly in all the large collection. The much-
praised frescoes of the dome in a chapel of the
Cathedral, and the oil-paintings over the altars, by
Domenichino and Spagnoletto, produced no effect
on me. Worth more than all these, are Giotto's
frescoes in the choir of the little old Church of
rincoronata, though these are not, I think, in
Giotto's ripest manner, for they are inferior to his
frescoes in the Santa Croce at Tlorence — more
uniform in the type of face.

We went to a Sunday morning service at the
Cathedral, and saw a detachment of silver busts of
saints ranged around the tribune — Naples being
famous for gold and silver sanctities.

When we had been a week at Naples, we set off
in our carriage with Baboon on an expedition to
Paestum, arriving the first evening at Salerno —
beautiful Salerno, with a bay as lovely, though in
a different way, as the bay of Naples. It has a
larger sweep, grander piles of rocky mountain on
the north and north-east — ^then a stretch of low
plain, the mountains receding — and finally, on the
south, another line of mountain coast extending to
the promontory of Sicosa.

From Salerno we started early in the morning

I860.] Pcestum. 209

for Paestum, with no alloy to the pleasure of the itaiy, i860,
journey but the dust, which was capable of making
a simoon under a high wind. For a long way we
passed through a well-cultivated plain, the moun-
tains on our left, and the sea on our right; but
farther on came a swampy unenclosed space of
great extent, inhabited by bufifaloes, who lay in
groups, comfortably wallowing in the muddy water,
with their grand stupid heads protruding horizon-
taUy.

On approaching Psestimi, the first thing one
catches sight of is the Temple of Vesta, which is
not beautiful either for form or colour, so that we
began to tremble lest disappointment were to be
the harvest of our dusty journey. But the fear
was soon displaced by almost rapturous admiration
at the sight of the great Temple of Neptime — ^the
finest thing, I verily believe, that we had yet seen
in Italy. It has all the requisites to make a build-
ing impressive. First, form. What perfect satis-
faction and repose for the eye in the calm repetition
of those columns — in the proportions of height and
length, of front and sides : the right thing is fownd
—it is not being sought after in uneasy labour of
detail or exaggeration. Next, colour. It is built of
travertine, like the other two temples; but while

VOL. n.

210 Temple of Neptune. [p^stum,

Italy, i8do. they have remamed, for the most part, a cold grey,
this Temple of Neptune has a rich, warm, pinkisli
brown, that seems to glow and deepen under one's
eyes. Lastly, position. It stands on the rich plain,
covered with long grass and flowers, in sight of the
sea on one hand, and the sublime blue mountains
on the other. Many plants caress the ruins: the
acanthus is there, and I saw it in green life for the
first time; but the majority of the plants on the
floor, or bossing the architrave, are familiar to me
as home flowers — purple mallows, snapdragons,
pink hawkweeds, &c. On our way back we saw a
herd of buflaloes clustered near a pond, and one of
them was rolling himself in the water like a
gentleman enjoying his bath.

The next day we went in the morning from
Salerno to Amalfi. It is an unspeakably grand
drive round the mighty rocks with the sea below ;
and Amalfi itself surpasses aU imagination of a
romantic site for a city that once made itself
famous in the world. We stupidly neglected seeing
the Cathedral, but we saw a macaroni mill and a
paper mill from among the many that are turned
by the rushing stream, which, with its precipitous
course down the ravine, creates an immense water
power; and we climbed up endless steps to the

I860.] Amalfi and Sorrento, 211

Capuchin Monastery, to see nothing but a cavern iuiy,i8«o.
where there are barbarous images, and a small
cloister with double Gothic arches.

Our way back to La Cava gave us a repetition of
the grand drive we had had in the morning by the
coast, and beyond that an inland drive of much
loveliness, through Claude-like scenes of mountain,
trees, and meadows, with picturesque accidents of
building, such as single, round towers on the heights.
The valley beyond La Cava, in which our hotel lay,
is of quite paradisaic beauty : a rich cultivated spot,
with mountains behind and before — those in front
varied by ancient buildings that a painter would
have chosen to place there ; and one of pyramidal
shape, steep as an obelisk, is crowned by a mon-
astery, famous for its library of prefcious MSS. and
its archives. We arrived too late for everything
except to see the shroud of mist gather and gradu-
ally envelop the mountains.

In the morning we set off, again in brightest
weather, to Sorrento, coasting the opposite side of
the promontory to that which we had passed along
the day before, and having on our right hand
l^aples and the distant Posilipo. The coast on this
side is less grand than on the Amalfi side ; but it
is more friendly as a place for residence. The most

212 Vico and the Syren Isles. [NAPLES,

Italy, 1860. charming spot on the way to Sorrento, to my think-
ing, is Vico, which I should even prefer to Sorrento,
because there is no town to be traversed before
entering the ravine and climbing the mountain in
the background. But I will not undervalue Sor-
rento, with its orange groves embalming the air,
its glorious sunsets over the sea, setting the grey
olives aglow on the hills above us, its walks among
the groves and vineyards out to the solitary coast.
One day of our stay there we took donkeys and
crossed the mountains to the opposite side of the
promontory, and saw the Syren Isles — ^very palp-
able unmysterious bits of barren rock now. A
great delight to me in all the excursions round
about Naples was the high cultivation of the soU,
and the sight of the vines, trained from elm to elm,
above some other precious crop, carpeting the
ground below. On our way back to Naples^ we
visited the silent Pompeii again. That place had
such a peculiar influence over me, that I could not
even look toward the point where it lay on the
plain below Vesuvius without a certain thriU.

Amidst much dust we arrived at Naples again
on Sunday morning, to start by the steamboat for
Leghorn on the following Tuesday. But before I
quit Naples, I must remember the Grotto of PosiHpo,

I860.] First Sight of Florence, 213

a wonderful monument of ancient labour ; Virgil's itaiy, iwa

tomb, which repaid us for a steep ascent only by

the view of the city and bay ; and a villa on the

way to Posilipo, with gardens gradually descending

to the margin of the sea, where there is a collection

of animals, both stuffed and alive. It was there

we saw the flying fish with their lovely blue fins.

One day and night voyage to Civita Vecchia, and
another day and night to Leghorn — wearisome to
the flesh that suffers from nausea even on the
summer sea! We had another look at dear Pisa
under the blue sky, and then on to Florence, which,
unlike Eome, looks inviting as one catches sight
from the railway of its cupolas and towers and its
embosoming hills — the greenest of hills, sprinkled
everywhere with white villas. We took up our
quarters at the Pension Suisse, and on the first
evening we took the most agreeable drive to be had
round Florence — the drive to Fiesole. It is in this
view that the eye takes in the greatest extent of
green billowy hills, besprinkled with white houses
looking almost like flocks of sheep : the great silent
uninhabited mountains lie chiefly behind ; the plain
of the Amo stretches far to the right. I think the
view from Fiesole the most beautiful of all; but
that from San Miniato, where we went the next

214 View from Bellosguardo. [FLORENCE,

Italy, I860, evening, has an interest of another kind, because
here Florence lies much nearer below, and one can
distinguish the various buildings more completely.
It is the same with Bellosguardo in a still more
marked degree. What a relief to the eye and the
thought among the huddled roofs of a distant town
to see towers and cupolas rising in abundant variety
as they do at Florence! There is Brunelleschi*s
mighty dome, and close by it, with its lovely colours
not entirely absorbed by distance, Giotto's incom-
parable campanile, beautiful as a jewel. Farther
on, to the right, is the majestic tower of the Palazzo
Vecchio, with the flag waving above it ; then the
elegant Badia and the Bargello close by; nearer
to us the grand campanile of Santo Spirito, and
that of Santa Croce; far away, on the left, the
cupola of San Lorenzo, and the tower of Santa
Maria Novella; and scattered far and near other
cupolas and campaniles of more insignificant shape
and history.

Even apart from its venerable historical glory,
the exterior of the Duomo is pleasant to behold
when the wretched unfinished /ofocfo is quite hidden.
The soaring pinnacles over the doors are exquisite :
so are the forms of the windows in the great semi-
circle of the apsis : and on the side where Giotto's

I860.] The Ihwmo and Campanile, 215

campanile is placed, especially, the white marble itaiy,iMo.
has taken on so rich and deep a yellow, that the
black bands cease to be felt as a fault. The entire
view on this side, closed in by Giotto's tower, with
its delicate pinkish marble, its delicate Grothic win-
dows with twisted columns, and its tall lightness
carrying the eye upward, in contrast with the
mighty breadth of the dome, is a thing not easily to
be forgotten. The Baptistery, with its paradisaic
gates, is close by ; but except in those gates, it has
no exterior beauty. The interior is almost awful
with its great dome covered with gigantic early
mosaics — the pale large -eyed Christ surrounded
by images of Paradise and Perdition. The interior
of the Cathedral is comparatively poor and bare;
but it has one great beauty — its coloured lance-
olate windows. Behind the high altar is a piece
of sculpture — the last imder Michael Angelo's
hand, intended for his own tomb, and left un-
finished. It represents Joseph of Arimathea hold-
mg the body of Jesus, with Mary, his mother, on
one side, and an apparently angelic form on the
other. Joseph is a striking and real figure, with
a hood over the head.

For external architecture it is the palaces, the
old palaces of the fifteenth century, that one must

216 The Palaces and Libraries. [FLORENCE,

Italy, I860, look at in the streets of Florence. One of the
finest was just opposite our hotel, — ^the Palazzo
Strozzi, built by Cronaca; perfect in its massive-
ness, with its iron cressets and rings, as if it had
been built only last year. This is the palace that
the Pitti was built to outvie (so tradition falsely
pretends), and to have an inner court that would
contain it. A wonderful union is that Pitti Palace,
of Cyclopean massiveness with stately regularity.
Next to the Pitti, I think, comes the Palazzo
Eiccardi — the house of the Medici, for size and
splendour. Then that unique Laurentian library,
designed by Michael Angelo : the books ranged on
desks in front of seats, so that the appearance of the
library resembles that of a chapel with open pews
of dark wood. The precious books are all chained
to the desk; and here we saw old manuscripts of
exquisite neatness, culminating in the Virgil of
the fourth century and the Pandects, said to have
been recovered from oblivion at Amalfi, but falsely
so said, according to those who are more learned
than tradition. Here, too, is a little chapel covered
with remarkable frescoes by Benozzo Gozzoli.

Grander still, in another style, is the Palazzo
Vecchio, with its unique cortUe, where the pillars
are embossed with arabesque and floral traceiy,

I860.] The Loggia de' Lanzi. 217

making a contrast in elaborate ornament with the itaiy, iseo.
large simplicity of the exterior building. Here
there are precious little works in ivory by Ben-
venuto Cellini, and other small treasures of art and
jewellery, preserved in cabinets in one of the great
upper chambers, which are painted all over with
frescoes, and have curious inlaid doors showing
buildings or figures in wooden mosaic, such as is
often seen in great beauty in the stalls of the
churches. The great Council Chamber is ugly in
its ornaments — frescoes and statues in bad taste
aU round it.

Orcagna's Loggia de' Lanzi is disappointing at the
first glance, from its sombre, dirty colour ; but its
beauty grew upon me with longer contemplation.
The pillars and groins are very graceful and chaste
in ornamentation. Among the statues that are
placed under it there is not one I could admire,
unless it were the dead body of Ajax with the
Greek soldier supporting it. CeUini*s Perseus is
fantastic. The Bargello, where we went to see
Giotto's frescoes (in lamentable condition) was
under repair, but I got glimpses of a wonderful
inner court, with heraldic carvings and stone stairs
and gallery.

Most of the churches in Florence are hideous

218 SaTita Maria Novella. [flokence,

Italy, 1800. on the outside — spiles of ribbed brickwork awaiting
a coat of stone or stucco— looking like skinned
animals. TSie most remarkable exception is Santa
Maria Novella, which has an elaborate facing of
black and white marble. Both this church and San
Lorenzo were under repair in the interior, unfor-
tunately for us; but we could enter Santa Maria
80 far as to see Orcagna's frescoes of Paradise and
HelL The Hell has been repainted, but the Para-
dise has not been maltreated in this way ; and it is
a splendid example of Orcagna's powers — far supe-
rior to his frescoes in the Campo Santo at Pisa.
Some of the female forms on the lowest range are
of exquisite grace. The splendid chapel in San
Lorenzo, containing the tombs of the Medici, is ugly
and heavy with all its precious marbles ; and the
world-famous statues of Michael Angelo on the
tombs in another smaller chapel — the Notte, the
Giomo, and the Crepuscolo — ^remained to us as af-
fected and exaggerated in the original as in copies
and casts.

The two churches we frequented most in Florence
were Santa Croce and the Carmine. In this last are
the great frescoes of Masaccio — chief among them
the " Eaising of the Dead Youth." In the other are
Giotto's frescoes revealed from under the white-

I860.] Santa Croce and the Carmine. 219

wash by which they were long covered, like those in itaiy, isea
the Bargello. Of these the best are the " Challenge
to pass through the Fire " in the series representing
the history of St Francis, and the rising of some
saint (unknown tp me) from his tomb, while Christ
extends His arms to receive him above, and won-
dering venerators look on, on each side. There
are large frescoes here of Taddeo Gaddi's also, but
they are not good: one sees in him a pupil of
Giotto, and nothing more. Besides the frescoes,
Santa Croce has its tombs to attract a repeated
risit : the tombs of Michael Angelo, Dante, Alfieri,
and Macchiavelli Even those tombs of the un-
known dead under our feet, with their eflBgies quite
worn down to a mere outline, were not without
their interest. I used to feel my heart swell a little
at the sight of the inscription on Dante's tomb —
"Onorate Valtissimo poeta!'

In the Church of the Triniti, also there are valu-
able frescoes by the excellent Domenico Ghirlandajo,
the master of Michael Angelo. They represent the
history of St Francis, and happily the best of them
is in the best light : it is the death of St Francis,
and is full of natural feeling, with well-marked
gradations from deepest sorrow to indififerent spec-
tatorship.

220 Spanish Chapel, S. Maria Novella. [Florence,

Italy, I860. The frescoes I cared for most in all Florence
were the few of Fra Angelico's that a donna was
allowed to see in the Convent of San Marco. In
the Chapter-house, now used as a guard-room, is a
large Crucifixion, with the inimitable group of the
fainting mother, upheld by St John and the younger
Mary, and clasped round by the kneeling Magda-
lene. The group of adoring, sorrowing saints on
the right hand are admirable for earnest truthful-
ness of representation. The Christ in this fresco is
not good, but there is a deeply impressive original
crucified Christ outside in the cloisters : St Dominic
is clasping the cross, and looking upward at the
agonised Saviour, whose real, pale, calmly enduring
face is quite unlike any other Christ I have seen.

I forgot to mention, at Santa Maria Novella,
the chapel, which is painted with very remarkable
frescoes by Simone Memmi and Taddeo Gaddi.
The best of these frescoes is the one in which the
Dominicans are represented by black and white
dogs — Doniini canes. The human groups have
high merit for conception and life -likeness; and
they are admirable studies of costume. At this
church, too, in the sacristy, is the " Madonna della
Stella," ^ with an altar-step by Fra Angelico — speci-

1 Now in cell No. 33 in the Museo di San Marco.

I860.] San Michde — OrcagTuCs Shrine. 221

mens of his minuter painting in oil. The inner luiy, iseo.
part of the frame is surroimded with his lovely
angels, with their seraphic joy and flower-garden
colouring.

Last of all the churches, we visited San Michele,
which had been one of the most familiar to us on
the outside, with its statues in niches, and its
elaborate Gothic windows, designed by the genius
of Orcagna. The great wonder of the interior is
the shrine of white marble made to receive the
miracle-working image which first caused the con-
secration of this mimdane building, originally a
com -market. Surely this shrine is the most
wonderful of all Orcagna's productions: for the
beauty of the reliefs he deserves to be placed
along with Nicolo Pisano, and for the exquisite
Gothic design of the whole he is a compeer of
Giotto.

For variety of treasures the UfiSzi Gallery is pre-
eminent among all public sights in Florence; but
the variety is in some degree a cause of compara-
tive unimpressiveness, pictures and statues being
crowded together and destroying each other's effect.
In statuary, it has the great Niobe group; the
Venus de Medici; the Wrestlers; the admirable
statue of the Knife-Sharpener, supposed to repre-

222 The JJffizi Gallery. [FLORENCE,

Italy, 1860. Sent the flayer of Marsyas ; the Apollino, and the
Boy taking a Thorn out of his Foot; with numerous
less remarkable antiques. And besides these, it
has what the Vatican has not — a collection of early
Italian sculpture, supreme among which is Giovanni
di Bologna's Mercury.^ Then there is a collection
of precious drawings; and there is the cabinet of
gems, quite alone in its fantastic, elaborate minute-
ness of workmanship in rarest materials ; and there
is another cabinet containing ivory sculptures,
cameos, intaglios, and a superlatively fine Niello, as
well as Raffaelle porcelain. The pictures here are
multitudinous, and among them there is a generous
proportion of utterly bad ones. In the entrance
gallery, where the early paintings are, is a great Era
Angelico — a Madonna and Child — z, triptych, the
two side compartments containing very fine figures
of saints, and the inner part of the central frame a
series of unspeakably lovely angels.^ Here I always
paused with longing, trying to believe that a copyist
there could make an imitation angel good enough
to be worth buying. Among the other paintings
that remain with me, after my visit to the UflBzi,
are the portrait of Leonardo da Vinci, by himself;

1 Now in the Museo Nazionale.

3 Now in Sala Lorenzo Monaco, Uffizi.

I860.] Uffizi Pictures. 223

the portrait of Dante, by Filippino Lippi;^ the itaiy.iseo
Herodias of Luini ; Titian's Venus, in the Tribune ;
Eaphael's Madonna and Child with the Bird ; and
the portrait falsely called the Fomarina; the two
remarkable pictures by Eidolfo Ghirlandajo; and the
Salutation byAlbertinelli, which hangs opposite; the
Kttle prince in pink dress, with two recent teeth, in
the next room, by Angelo Bronzino (No. 1155) ; the
small picture of Christ in the Garden, by Lorenzo
Credi ; Titian's Woman with the Golden Hair, in
the Venetian room ; Leonardo's Medusa head ; and
Michael Angelo's ugly Holy Family: — these, at
least, rise up on a rapid retrospect. Others are in
the background ; for example, Correggio's Madonna
adoring the infant Christ in the Tribune.

For pictures, however, the Pitti Palace surpasses
the Uffizi. Here the paintings are more choice and
not less numerous. The "Madonna della Sedia"
leaves me, with all its beauty, impressed only by
the grave gaze of the Infant; but besides this
there is another Madonna of Raphael — perhaps
the most beautiful of all his earlier ones — the
" Madonna del Granduca," which has the sweet grace

^The only portraits of Dante in the Uffizi are No. 1207, in the
room opening out of the Tribune — ^by an unknown painter (Scuola
Toscana) ; and No. 653, in the passage to the Pitti— also by an un-
known painter.

224 Pitti Pictures. [FLORENCE,

Italy, iseo. and gentleness of its sisters without their sheep-
like look. Andrea del Sarto is seen here in his
highest glory of oil-painting. There are numerous
large pictures of his — ^Assumptions and the like —
of great technical merit ; but better than all these
I remember a Holy Family with a very fine St
Ann, and the portraits of himself and his fatal
auburn-haired wife. Of Fra Bartolomeo there is
a Pietit of memorable expression,^ a Madonna
enthroned with saints, and his great St Mark.
Of Titian, a Marriage of St Catherine of supreme
beauty; a Magdalen, failing in expression; and
an exquisite portrait of the same woman, who
is represented as Venus at the UflBzi. There is
a remarkable group of portraits by Eubens — ^him-
self, his brother, Lipsius, and Grotius — and a large
landscape by him. The only picture of Veronese's
that I remember here is a portrait of his wife when
her beauty was gone. There is a remarkably fine
sea piece by Salvator Eosa ; a striking portrait of
Aretino, and a portrait of Vesalius, by Titian ; one
of Inghirami by Eaphael ; a delicious rosy baby-
future cardinal — flying in a silken bed ; ^ a placid,
contemplative young woman, with her finger be-

1 No. 81. Pitti Gallery.

2 No. 49, by Tiberio Titti. Pitti Gallery.

I860.] Paintings at tTie Accademia. 225

tween the leaves of a b<x)k, by Leonardo da Vinci ; ^ itaiy, !»<»,
a memorable portrait of Philip II. by Titian; a
splendid Judith by Bronzino; a portrait of Bern*
brandt by himself, &c., &c.

Andrea del Sarto is seen to advantage at the
Ktti Palace ; but his chef-cPosuvre is a fresco, un-
happily much worn — the " Madonna del Sacco " —
in the cloister of the Annunziata.

For early Florentine paintings, the most inter-
esting collection is that of the Accademia. Here
we saw a Cimabue, whidi gave us the best idea
of his superiority over the painters who went
before him: it is a colossal Madonna enthroned.
And on the same wall there is a colossal Madonna
by Giotto, which is not only a demonstration that
he surpassed his master, but that he had a clear
vision of the noble in art. A delightful picture —
very much restored, I fear — of the Adoration of
the Magi made me acquainted with Gentile da
Fabriano. The head of Joseph in this picture is
masterly in the delicate rendering of the expres-
sion; the three kings are very beautiful in con-
ception ; and the attendant group, or rather crowd,
shows a remarkable combination of realism with
love of the beautiful and splendid.

1 No. 140. KttiGaUery.
VOL. II. P

226 GcUik'O's Tower, [FLORENCE,

Italy, 1860. There is a fine Domenico Ghirlandajo— the "Ad-
oration of the Shepherds ; " a fine lippo lippi ; and
an Assumption by Perugino, which I like well for
its cherubs and angels, and for some of the adoring
figures below. In the smaller room there is a
lovely Piet^ by Fra Angelico ; and there is a por-
trait of Fra Angelico himself by another artist.

One of our drives at Florence, which I have not
mentioned, was that to Galileo's Tower, which
stands conspicuous on one of the hills close about
the town. We ascended it for the sake of looking
out over the plain from the same spot as the
great man looked from, more than two centuries
ago. His portrait is in the Pitti Palace — ^a grave
man with an abbreviated nose, not unlike Mr
Thomas Adolphus TroUope.

One fine day near the end of our stay we made
an expedition to Siena — that fine old town built
on an abrupt height overlooking a wide, wide
plain. We drove about a couple of hours or
more, and saw well the exterior of the place—
the peculiar piazza or campo in the shape of a
scallop-sheU, with its large old Palazzo jmblico, the
Porta Ovile and Porta Eomana, the archbishop's
palace, and the cemetery. Of the churches we
saw only the Cathedral, the Chapel of John the

I860.] Expedition to Siena. 227

Baptist, and San Domenico. The cathedral has itiay,i860.
a highly elaborate Gothic fa9ade, but the details
of the upper part are unsatisfactory — a square
window in the centre shocks the eye, and the
gables are not slim and aspiring enough. The
interior is full of interest: there is the unique
pavement in a sort of marble Niello, presenting
Eaffaelesque designs by Boccafimii, carrying out
the example of the older portions, which are very
quaint in their drawing ; there is a picture of high
interest in the history of early art — a picture by
Guido of Siena, who was rather earlier than
Cimabue; fine carved stalls and screens in dark
wood; and in an adjoining chapel a series of
frescoes by Pinturicchio, to which Eaphael is said
to have contributed designs and workmanship,
and wonderfully illuminated old choir-books. The
Chapel of St John the Baptist has a remarkable
Grothic facade, and a baptismal font inside, with
reliefs wrought by Ghiberti and another Florentine
artist. To San Domenico we went for the sake of
seeing the famous Madonna by Guido da Siena:
I think we held it superior to any Cimabue we
had seen. There is a considerable collection of
the Siennese artists at the Accademia, but the
school had no great genius equal to Giotto to

228 Michael Angelas House, [FLORENCE,

Italy, I860, lead it. The Three Graces — an antique to which
Canova's modem triad bears a strong resem-
blance in attitude and style — are also at the
Accademia.

An interesting visit we made at Florence was
to Michael Angelo's house — Casa Buonarotti —
in the Via Ghibellina. This street is striking and
characteristic: the houses are all old, with broad
eaves, and in some cases with an open upper storey,
so that the roof forms a sort of pavilion supported
on pillars. This is a feature one sees in many
parts of Florence. Michael Angelo's house is
preserved with great care by his descendants —
only one could wish their care had not been
shown in giving it entirely new furniture. How-
ever, the rooms are the same as those he occupied,
and there are many relics of his presence there—
his stick, his sword, and many of his drawings. In
one room there is a very fine Titian of small size—
the principal figure a woman fainting.

The Last Supper — a fresco believed to be by
Eaphael — ^is in a room at the Egyptian Museum.^
The figure of Peter — of which, apparently, there
exist various sketches by Eaphael's hand — is
memorable.

^ No. 56 Via de Paenza, CapeUa di Foligno.

\

I860.] Dwarfing Effect of the Past. 229

Things really look so threatening in the Nea- Letter to

,. , . , , , . , . , , John Black-

poutan kingdom that we begin to think ourselves wood, mn

. . , . . . 1 rr. . May I860.

fortunate in having got our visit done, Tuscany is
in the highest political spirits for the moment, and
of course Victor Emanuel stares at us at every
turn here, with the most loyal exaggeration of
moustache and intelligent meaning. But we are
selfishly careless about djmasties just now, caring
more for the doings of Giotto and Brunelleschi
than for those of Count Cavour. On a first journey
to the greatest. centres of art, one must be excused
for letting one's public spirit go to sleep a little.
As for me, I am thrown into a state of humiliating
passivity by the sight of the great things done in
the far past: it seems as if life were not long
enough to learn, and as if my own activity were
so completely dwarfed by comparison, that I should
never have courage for more creation of my own.
There is only one thing that has an opposite and
stimulating effect : it is the comparative rarity, even
here, of great and truthful art, and the abundance
of wretched imitation and falsity. Every hand is
wanted in the world that can do a little genuine
sincere work.

We are at the quietest hotel in Florence, having
sought it out for the sake of getting clear of the

/

230 'Times' on 'Mill on the Floss' [FLORENCE,

Letter to Stream of English and Americans, in which one

John Black- ^ , -- ,

wood, 18th finds one s self m all the mam tracks of travel, so

May 1860.

that one seems at last to be in a perpetud noisy
picnic, obliged to be civil, though with a strong
inclination to be sullen. My philanthropy rises
several degrees as soon as we are alone.
Letter to I am much obliged to you for writing at once,

Mi^or

Blackwood, and SO Scattering some clouds which had gathered

27th May

1860. over my mind in consequence of an indication or

two in Mr John Blackwood's previous letter. The
'Times' article arrived on Sunday. It is written
in a generous spirit, and with so high a degree of
intelligence, that I am rather alarmed lest the
misapprehensions it exhibits should be due to my
defective presentation, rather than to any failure on
the part of the critic. I have certainly fulfilled
my intention very badly if I have made the Dodson
honesty appear " mean and uninteresting," or made
the payment of one's debts, appear a contemptible
virtue in comparison with any sort of "Bohemian"
qualities. So far as my own feeling and intention
are concerned, no one class of persons or form of
character is held up to reprobation or to exclusive
admiration. Tom is painted with as much love and
pity as Maggie ; and I am so far from hating the
Dodsons myself, that I am rather aghast to find

\

I860.] First mention of Italian Novd. 231

them ticketed with such very ugly adjectives. We Letter to

Miyjor

intend to leave this place on Friday (3d), and in Blackwood,

27th May

four days after that we shall be at Venice — ^in a few iseo.
days from that time at Milan — and then, by a route
at present uncertain, at Berne, where we take up
Mr Lewes's eldest boy, to bring him home with us.

We are particularly happy in our weather, which
is unvaryingly fine without excessive heat. There
has been a crescendo of enjoyment in our travels ;
for Florence, from its relation to the history of
Modem Art, has roused a keener interest in us
even than Rome, and has stimulated me to enter-
tain rather an ambitious project, which I mean to
be a secret from every one but you and Mr John
Blackwood.

Any news of ' Clerical Scenes ' in its third edi-
tion ? Or has its appearance been deferred ? The
smallest details are acceptable to ignorant travellers.
We are wondering what was the last good article in
'Blackwood,' and whether Thackeray has gathered
up his slack reins in the *Comhill.' Literature
travels slowly even to this Italian Athens. Haw-
thorne's book is not to be found here yet in the
Tauchnitz edition.

We left Florence on the evening of the 1st of itaiy, iseo.
June, by diligence, travelling all night and until

232 Across the Apennines. [bologna,

Italy, 1860. elcveii the next morning to get to Bologna. I wish
we could have made that journey across the Apen-
nines by daylight, though in that case I should
have missed certain grand startling eflfects that
came to me in my occasional wakings. Wonderful
heights and depths I saw on each side of us by the
fading light of the evening. Then in the middle of
the night, while the lightning was flashing and the
sky was heavy with threatening storm-clouds, I
waked to find the six horses resolutely refusing or
unable to move the diligence — ^till at last two meek
oxen were tied to the axle, and their added strength
dragged us up the hill. But one of the strangest
eflfects I ever saw was just before dawn, when we
seemed to be high up on mighty mountains, which
fell precipitously and showed us the awful pale
horizon far, far below.

The first thing we did at Bologna was to go to
the Accademia, where I confirmed myself in my utter
dislike of the Bolognese school — ^the Caraccis and
Domenichino et id genus omne — and felt some dis-
appointment in Eaphael's St Cecilia. The pictures
of Francia here, to which I had looked forward as
likely to give me a fuller and higher idea of him,
were less pleasing to me than the smaller specimens
of him that I had seen in the Dresden and other

\

I860.] Pictures and Chwrches. 233

galleries. He seems to me to be more limited even itaiy, isao
than Perugino: but he is a faithful, painstaking
painter, with a religious spirit. Agostino Caracci's
Communion of St Jerome is a remarkable picture,
with real feeling in it — an exception among all the
great pieces of canvas that hang beside it. Domen-
ichino's figure of St Jerome is a direct plagiarism
from that of Agostino : but in other points the two
pictures are quite diverse.

The following morning we took a carriage, and
were diligent in visiting the churches. San Petro-
nio has the melancholy distinction of an exquisite
Gothic faqade, which is carried up only a little
way above the arches of the doorways : the sculp-
tures on these arches are of wonderful beauty. The
interior is of lofty, airy, simple Gothic, and it con-
tains some curious old paintings in the various side-
chapels — pre-eminent among which are the great
frescoes by the so-called Buffalmacco. The Paradise
is distinguished in my memory by the fact that
the blessed are ranged in seats like the benches
of a church or chapeL At Santa Cecilia — ^now used
as a barrack or guard-room — ^there are two frescoes
by Francia, the Marriage and Burial of St Cecilia,
characteristic but miserably injured. At the great
Church of San Domenico the object of chief inter-

234 Sights of Bologna. [padua,

Italy, 1860. est is the tomb of the said saint by the ever-to-be-
honoured Nicolo Pisano. I believe this tomb was his
first great work, and very remarkable it is; but
there is nothing on it equd to the Nativity on
the pulpit at Pisa. On this tomb stands a lovely
angel by Michael Angelo. It is small in size, hold-
ing a small candlestick, and is a work of his youth :
it shows clearly enough how the feeling for grace
and beauty was strong in him, only not strong
enough to wrestle with his love of the grandiose
and powerfuL

The ugly, painful, leaning towers of Bologna
made me desire not to look at them a second time ;
but there are fine bits of massive palatial building
here and there in the colonnaded streets. We trod
the court of the once famous university, where the
arms of the various scholars ornament the walls
above and below an interior gallery. This build-
ing is now, as far as I could understand, a com-
munal school, and the university is transported to
another part of the town.

We left Bologna in the afternoon, rested at
Ferrara for the night, and passed the Euganean
Mountains on our left hand as we approached
Padua in the middle of the next day.

After dinner and rest from our dusty journeying.

I860.] Church of SanC Antonio. 235

we took a carriage and went out to see the town, it»iy, i860,
desiring most of all to see Giotto's Chapel. We
paused first, however, at the great Church of Sant'
Antonio, which is remarkable both externally and
internally. There are two side chapels opposite
each other, which are quite unique for contrasted
effect. On the one hand is a chapel of oblong
form, covered entirely with white marble relievi,
golden lamps hanging from the roof; while oppo-
site is a chapel of the same form, covered with
frescoes by Avanzi, the artist who seems to have
been the link of genius between Giotto and Mas-
accio. Close by, in a separate building, is the
Capella di San Giorgio, also covered with Avanzi's
frescoes ; and here one may study him more com-
pletely, because the light is better than in the
church. He has quite a Veronese power of com-
bining his human groups with splendid architec-
ture.

The Arena Chapel stands apart, and is approached
at present through a pretty garden. Here one is
uninterruptedly with Giotto. The whole chapel
was designed and painted by himself alone; and
it is said that while he was at work on it, Dante
lodged with him at Padua. The nave of the chapel
is in tolerably good preservation, but the apsis has

236 The Arena Chapel, Padua. [VENICE,

Italy, I860. Suffered severely from damp. It is in this apsis
that the lovely Madomia, with the Infant at her
breast, is painted in a niche, now quite hidden by
some altar-piece or woodwork, which one has to
push by in order to see the tenderest bit of
Giotto's painting. This chapel must have been
a blessed vision when it was fresh from Giotto's
hand — the blue vaulted roof; the exquisite bands
of which he was so fond, representing inlaid marble,
uniting roof and walls £ind forming the divisions
between the various frescoes which cover the upper
part of the wall. The glory of Paradise at one
end, and the histories of Mary and Jesus on the
two sides; and the subdued effect of the series of
monochromes representing the Virtues and Vices
below.

There is a piazza with a plantation and circular
public walk, with wildly affected statues of small
and great notorieties, which remains with one as
a peculiarity of Padua. In general the town is
merely old and shabbily Italian, without anything
very specific in its aspect.

From Padua to Venice !

It was about ten o'clock on a moonlight night —
the 4th of June — that we found ourselves appar-
ently on a railway in the midst of the sea: we

I860.] The Charid Canal by Moonlight. 237

were on the bridge across the lagoon. Soon we itaiy.isw
were in a gondola on the Grand Canal, looking
out at the moonlit buildings and water. What
stillness! What beauty! Looking out from the
high window of our hotel on the Grand Canal, I
felt that it was a pity to go to bed. Venice was
more beautiful than romances had feigned.

And that was the impression that remained, and
even deepened, during our stay of eight days. That
quiet which seems the deeper because one hears
the delicious dip of the oar (when not disturbed by
clamorous church bells), leaves the eye in full
liberty and strength to take in the exhaustless
loveliness of colour and form.

We were in our gondola by nine o'clock the next
morning, and of course the first point we sought
was the Piazza di San Marco. I am glad to find
Euskin calling the Palace of the Doges one of the
two most perfect buildings in the world : its only
defects, to my feeling, are the feebleness or trivi-
aUty of the frieze or cornice, and the want of
length in the Gothic windows with which the
upper wall is pierced. This spot is a focus of
architectural wonders : but the palace is the crown
of them all. The double tier of columns and
arches, with the rich sombreness of their finely

238 San Marco and Doge's Palace, [Venice,

itei7,i86o. outlined shadows, contrast satisfactorily with the
warmth and light and more continuous surface
of the upper part. Even landing on the Piazzetta,
one has a sense, not only of being in an entirely
novel scene, but one where the ideas of a foreign
race have poured themselves in without yet ming-
ling indistinguishably with the pre-existent Italian
life. But this is felt yet more strongly when one
has passed along the Piazzetta and arrived in front
of San Marco, with its low arches and domes and
minarets. But perhaps the most striking point to
take one's stand on is just in front of the white
marble guard-house flanking the great tower — ^the
guard-house with Sansovino's iron gates before it.
On the left is San Marco, with the two square
pillars from St Jean d'Acre, standing as isolated
trophies; on the right the Piazzetta extends be-
tween the Doge's palace and the Palazzo Eeale to
the tall colimms from Constantinople ; and in front
is the elaborate gateway leading to the white
marble Scala dei Giganti, in the courtyard of the
Doge's palace. Passing through this gateway and
up this staircase, we entered the gallery which
surrounds the court on three sides, and looked
doMm at the fine sculptured vase-like wells below.
Then into the great Sala, surrounded with the

I860.] Pictures in Doge's Palace. 239

portraits of the Doges: the largest oil-painting itaiy, i860,
here — or perhaps anywhere else — is the "Gloria
del Paradise " by Tintoretto, now dark and unlovely.
But on the ceiling is a great Paul Veronese — the
"Apotheosis of Venice" — ^which looks as fresh as
if it were painted yesterday, and is a miracle of
colour and composition — a picture full of glory
and joy of an earthly, fleshly kind, but without
any touch of coarseness or vulgarity. Below the
radiant Venice on her clouds is a balcony fiUed
with upward -looking spectators; and below this
gallery is a group of human figures with horses.
Next to this Apotheosis, I admire another Corona-
tion of Venice on the ceiling of another Sala, where
Venice is sitting enthroned above the globe with
her lovely face in half shadow — a creature bom
with an imperial attitude. There are other Tintor-
ettos, Veroneses, and Pahnas in the great halls of
this palace; but they left me quite indifferent,
And have become vague in my memory. From
the splendours of the palace we crossed the Bridge
of Sighs to the prisons, and saw the horrible dark
damp cells that would make the saddest life in the
free light and air seiem bright and desirable.

The interior of St Mark's is full of interest, but
not of beauty : it is dark and heavy, and ill-suited

240 San Marco. [VENICE,

Italy, 1860. to the Catholic worship, for the massive piers that
obstruct the view everywhere shut out the sight of
ceremony and procession, as we witnessed at our
leisure on the day of the great procession of Corpus
Christi. But everywhere there are relics of gone-by
art to be studied, from mosaics of the Greeks to
mosaics of later artists than the Zuccati ; old marble
statues, embrowned like a meerschaum pipe ; amaz-
ing sculptures in wood ; Sansovino doors, ambitious
to rival Ghiberti's ; transparent alabaster columns ;
an ancient Madonna, hung with jewels, transported
irom St Sophia, in Constantinople ; and everywhere
the venerable pavement, once beautiful with its
starry patterns in rich marble, now deadened and
sunk to unevenness like the mud floor of a cabin.
Then outside, on the archway of the principal
door, there are sculptures of a variety that makes
one renounce the study of them in despair at the
shortness of one's time — blended fruits and foliage,
and human groups and animal forms of all kinds.
On our first morning we ascended the great tower,
and looked around on the island-city and the dis-
tant mountains and the distant Adriatic. And on
the same day we went to see the Pisani palace —
one of the grand old palaces that are going to
decay. An Italian artist who resides in one part of

1860J " Death of Pd&r the Martyrr 241

this palace interested us by his frank manner, and ittiy, isao
the glimpse we had of his domesticity with his
pretty wife and children. After this we saw the
Church of San Sebastiano, where Paul Veronese is
buried, with his own paintings around, mingling
their colour with the light that falls on his tomb-
stone. There is one remarkably fine painting of
his here : it represents, I think, some Saints going
to Martyrdom, but apart from that explanation, is
a composition full of vigorous, spirited figures, in
which the central ones are two young men leaving
some splendid dwelling, on the steps of which
stands the mother, pleading and remonstrating — a
manrellous figure of an old woman with a bare

But supreme among the pictures at Venice is the
"Death of Peter the Martyr," ^ now happily removed
from its original position as an altar-piece, and
placed in a good light in the sacristy of San
Giovanni and Paolo (or San Zani Polo, as the Vene-
tians conveniently abbreviate it). In this picture,
as in that of the Tribute-money at Dresden, Titian
seems to have surpassed himself, and to have
reached as high a point in expression as in colour.
In the same sacristy there was a Crucifixion by

1 Since burnt.
VOL. II. Q

242 Scuola di San Rocco. [VENICE,

Italy, 1860. Tintoretto, and a remarkable Madonna with Saints
by Giovanni Bellini ; but we were unable to look
long away from the Titian to these, although we
paid it five visits during our stay. It is near this
church that the famous equestrian statue stands
by Verocchio.

Santa Maria della Salute, built as an ea? voto by
the Kepublic on the cessation of the plague, is one
of the most conspicuous churches in Venice, lifting
its white cupolas close on the Grand Canal, where
it widens out towards the Giudecca.

Here there are various Tintorettos, but the only
one which is not blackened so as to be unintelli-
gible is the Cena, which is represented as a bustling
supper-party, with attendants and sideboard acces-
sories, in thoroughly Dutch fashion! The great
scene of Tintoretto's greatness is held to be the
Scuola di San Kocco, of which he had the painting
entirely to himself, with his pupils ; and here one
must admire the vigour and freshness of his con-
ceptions, though I saw nothing that delighted me
in expression, and much that was preposterous
and ugly. The Crucifixion here is certainly a
grand work, to which he seems to have given his
best powers; and among the smaller designs, in
the two larger halls, there were several of thorough

I860.] Tintoretto and Titian. 243

origmality — for example, the Annunciation, where it»iy, isao.
Mary is seated in a poor house, with a carpenter's
shop adjoining, the Nativity in the upper storey of
a sfcable, of which a section is made so as to show
the beasts below, and the Flight into Egypt, with a
very charming (European) landscape. In this same
building of San Kocco there are some exquisite iron
gates, a present from Florence, and some singular-
ly painstaking wood-carving, representing, in one
compartment of wainscot, above the seats that
surroimded the upper hall, a bookcase filled with
old books, an inkstand and pen set in front of one
shelf & s*y mSprendre.

But of all Tintoretto's paintings, the best pre-
served, and perhaps the most complete in execution,
is the Miracle of St Mark at the Accademia. We
saw it the oftener because we were attracted to the
Accademia again and again by Titian's Assumption,
which we placed next to Peter the Martyr among
the pictures at Venice.

For a thoroughly rapt expression I never saw
anything equal to the Virgin in this picture ; and
the expression is the more remarkable because it is
not assisted by the usual devices to express spiritual
ecstasy, such as delicacy of feature and tempera-
ment or pale meagreness. Then what cherubs and

244 G. Bellini and Palma Vecchio, [VENICE,

Italy, I860, angelic heads bathed in Kght! The lower part
of the picture has no interest; the attitudes are
theatrical; and the Almighty above is as unbe-
seeming as painted Almighties usually are: but
the middle group falls short only of the Sistine
Madonna.

Among the Venetian painters Giovanni Bellini
shines with a mild, serious light that gives one an
affectionate respect towards him. In the Church of
the Scalzi there is an exquisite Madonna by him —
probably his chef-cCceuvre — comparable to Eaphael's
for sweetness.

And Palma Vecchio, too, must be held in grate-
ful reverence for his Santa Barbara, standing in
calm, grand beauty above an altar in the Church
of Santa Maria Formosa. It is an almost unique
presentation of a hero -woman, standing in calm
preparation for martyrdom, without the slightest air
of pietism, yet with the expression of a mind filled
with serious conviction.

We made the journey to Chioggia but with small
pleasure, on account of my illness, which continued
all day. Otherwise that long floating over the
water, with the forts and mountains looking as
if they were suspended in the air, would have
been very enjoyable. Of all dreamy delights, that

I860.] Sunset on the Lagoon. 245

of floating in a gondola along the canals and out itaiy, i860,
on the Lagoon is surely the greatest. We were
out one night on the Lagoon when the sun was
setting, and the wide waters were flushed with
the reddened light. I should have liked it to
last for hours: it is the sort of scene in which
I could most readily forget my own existence,
and feel melted into the general life.

Another charm of evening time was to walk up
and down the Piazza of San Marco as the stars
were brightening and look at the grand dim build-
ings, and the flocks of pigeons flitting about them ;
or to walk on to the Bridge of La Paglia and look
along the dark canal that nms under the Bridge
of Sighs — ^its blackness lit up by a gaslight here
and there, and the plash of the oar of blackest
gondola slowly advancing.

One of our latest visits was to the Palazzo Mam-
frini, where there are still the remains of a mag-
nificent collection of pictures — remains still on
sale.

The young proprietor was walking about trans-
acting business in the rooms as we passed through
them — a handsome, refined-looking man. The chief
treasure left — ^the Entombment, by Titian — ^is per-
haps a superior duplicate of the one in the Louvre.

246 Venice to Verona. [VEEONA,

Italy, I860. After this we went to a private house (once the
house of Bianca Capello), to see a picture which
the joint proprietors are anxious to prove to be
a Leonardo da Vinci. It is a remarkable — an un-
forgettable — picture. The subject is the Supper
at Emmaus; and the Christ, with open, almost
tearful eyes, with loving sadness spread over the
regular beauty of his features, is a masterpiece.
This head is not like the Leonardo sketch at Milan ;
and the rest of the picture impressed me strongly
with the idea that it is of Grerman, not Italian,
origin. Again, the head is not like that of Leon-
ardo's Christ in the National Gallery — it is far
finer, to my thinking.

Farewell, lovely Venice! and away to Verona,
across the green plains of Lombardy, which can
hardly look tempting to an eye still filled with the
dreamy beauty it has left behind. Yet I liked our
short stay at Verona extremely. The Amphitheatre
had the disadvantage of coming after the Coliseum
and the Pozzuoli Amphitheatre, and would bear
comparison with neither; but the Church of San
Zenone was equal in interest to almost any of the
churches we had seen in Italy. It is a beautiful
specimen of Lombard architecture, undisguised by
any modem barbarisms in the interior; and on

I860.] San Zemne. 247

the walls — ^now that they have been freed from itaiy, iseo.
their coat of whitewash — ^there are early frescoes
of high historical value, some of them — apparently
of the Giotto school — showing a remarkable striv-
ing after human expression. More than this, there
is in one case an under layer of yet older frescoes,
partly laid bare, and showing the lower part of
figures in mummy -like degradation of drawing:
while above these are the upper portion of the
later figures in striking juxtaposition with the dead
art from which they had spnmg with the vitality
of a hidden germ. There is a very fine crypt to
the church, where the fragments of some ancient
[statue] are built in wrong way upwards.

This was the only church we entered at Verona ;
for we contented ourselves with a general view of
the town, driving about to get coups cdceU of the
fine old walls, the river, the bridges, and surround-
ing hills, and mounting up to a high terrace for
the sake of a bird's-eye view : this, with a passing
sight of the famous tombs of the Scaligers, was
all gathered in our four or five hours at Verona.

Heavy rain* came on our way to Milan, putting
an end to the brilliant weather we had enjoyed
ever since our arrival at Naples. The line of road
lies through a luxuriant country, and I remember

248 The Arnhrosmn Lihrary. [MILAN,

Italy, I860, the picturesque appearance of Bergamo — half of
it on the level, half of it lifted up on the green
hiU.

In this second visit of mine to Milan, my great-
est pleasures were the Brera Gallery and the
Ambrosian Library, neither of which I had seen
before. The cathedral no longer satisfied my eye
in its exterior; and though the interior has very
grand effects, there are still disturbing elements.

At the Ambrosian Library we saw MSS. sur-
passing in interest any even of those we had seen
in the Laurentian Library at Florence, — ^illuminated
books, sacred and secular — a little Koran, rolled up
something after the fashion of a measuring-tape —
private letters of Tasso, Galileo, Lucrezia Borgia,
&c. — ^and a book full of Leonardo da Vinci's engin-
eering designs. Then up-stairs, in the picture-gal-
lery, we saw a delicious Holy Family by Luini, of
marvellous perfection in its execution, the Cartoon
for Eaphael's "School of Athens," and a precious
collection of drawings by Leonardo da Vinci and
Michael Angelo. Among Leonardo's are amazing-
ly grotesque faces, full of humour ; among Michael
Angelo's is the sketch of the unfortunate Biagio,
who figures with asses' ears in the lower comer
of the "Last Judgment."

^

I860.] " The Brera " and San MoAjmzio. 249

At the Brera, among a host of pictures to which iwy, i8«o.
I was indifferent, there were several things that
deUghted me. Some of Luini's frescoes— especially
the burial or transportation of the body of St
Catherine by angels ; some single figures of young
cherubs, and Joseph and Mary going to their
Marriage; the drawing in pastel by Leonardo of
the Christ's head, supposed to be a study for
the Gma; the Luini Madonna among trellises —
an exquisite oil-painting ; Gentile Bellini's picture
of St Mark preaching at Alexandria ; and the
Sposalizio by Eaphael.

At the Church of San Maurizio Maggiore we
saw Luini's power tested by an abundant oppor-
tunity. The walls are almost covered with frescoes
by him; but the only remarkable felicity he has
is his female figures, which are eminently graceful.
He has not power enough for a composition of any
high character.

We visited, too, the interesting old Church of
Sant' Ambrogio, with its court surrounded by clois-
ters, its old sculptured pulpit, chair of St Ambrose,
and illimiinated choir -books; and we drove to
look at the line of old Koman columns, which are
almost the solitary remnant of antiquity left in this
ancient city — ancient, at least, in its name and site.

250 Bellagio and Splilgen Pass, [berne,

Italy, 186a We left Milan for Como on a fine Sunday morn-
ing, and arrived at beautiful Bellagio by steamer in
the evening. Here we spent a delicious day — going
to the Villa Somma Eiva in the morning, and in
the evening to the Serbellone Gardens, from the
heights of which we saw the mountain - peaks
reddened with the last rays of the sun. The next
day we reached lovely Chiavenna, at the foot of
the Splugen Pass, and spent the evening in com-
pany with a glorious mountain torrent, mountain
peaks, huge boulders, with rippling miniature
torrents and lovely young flowers among them,
and grassy heights with rich Spanish chestnuts
shadowing them. Then, the next morning, we
set off by post and climbed the almost perpen-
dicular heights of the Pass — chiefly in heavy rain
that would hardly let us discern the patches of
snow when we reached the tableland of the sum-
mit. About five o'clock we reached grassy Splugen,
and felt that we had left Italy behind us. Already
our driver had been German for the last long
post, and now we had come to an hotel where
host and waiters were German. Swiss houses of
dark wood, outside staircases and broad eaves,
stood on the steep, green, and flowery slope that
led up to the waterfall; and the hotel and other

\

I860.] Over the Via Mala. 251

buildings of masonry were thoroughly German in itaiy.iseo.
their aspect. In the evening we enjoyed a walk
between the mountains, whose lower sides down
to the torrent bed were set with tall dark pines.
But the climax of grand — ^nay, terrible — scenery
came the next day as we traversed the Via Mala.

After this came open green valleys, with dotted
white churches and homesteads. We were in
Switzerland, and the mighty wall of the Valtel-
line Alps shut us out from Italy on the 21st of
June.

Your letter to Florence reached me duly, and I Letter to

John Black*

feel as if I had been rather unconscionable in ask- wood, 23d

J«ttel860,

mg for another before our return; but to us who from seme,
have been seeing new things every day, a month
seems so long a space of time that we can't help
fancying there must be a great accumulation of
news for us at the end of it.

We had hoped to be at home by the 25th ; but
we were so enchanted with Venice, that we were
seduced into staying there a whole week instead
of three or four days, and now we must not rob
the boys of their two days* holiday with us.

We have had a wonderful journey. From Flor-
ence we went to Bologna, Ferrara, and Padua on
our way to Venice; and from Venice we have

252 Enriched with New Ideas, [bekne,

Letter to come by Verona, Milan, and Como, and across the

John Black- rr • i i i

wood,28<i Spliigen to Zurich, where we spent yesterday

June 1860|

from Berne, chicfly in the Company of Moleschott the physi-
ologist — an interview that has helped to sharpen
Mr Lewes's appetite for a return to his microsjcx)pe
and dissecting table. We ought to be for ever
ashamed of ourselves if we don't work the better
for this great holiday. We both feel immensely
enriched with new ideas and new veins of interest.

I don't think I can venture to tell you what my
great project is by letter, for I am anxious to keep
it a secret. It will require a great deal of study
and labour, and I am athirst to begin.

As for ' The Mill,' I am in repose about it, now
I know it has found its way to the great public.
Its comparative rank can only be decided after
some years have passed, when the judgment upon
it is no longer influenced by the recent enthusiasm
about ' Adam,' and by the fact that it has the mis-
fortune to be written by me^ instead of by Mr
liggins. I shall like to see Bulwer's criticism,
if you will be kind enough to send it me; but I
particularly wish not to see any of the newspaper
articles.

I860.] Smtimary of Ohapter X. 253

SUMMARY.
MABCH TO JUNE 1860. — FIRST JOURNEY TO ITALY.

Crossing Mont Cenis by night in diligence — Turin — Sees
Count Cavour — Gtenoa — Leghorn — Pisa — Civita Vecchia —
Disappointment with first sight of Rome — Better spirits after
visit to Capitol — ^View fix)m Capitol — Points most struck
with in Rome — Sculpture at Capitol — Sculpture at Vatican
first seen by torchlight — St Peter's — Other churches — Sistine
Chapel — Paintings — Illumination of St Peter's — Disap-
pointment with Michael Angelo's Moses — Visits to artists'
studios — Riedel and Overbeck — Pamfili Dona Qardens —
Frascati— Tivoli — Pictures at Capitol— Lateran Museum —
Shelley's and Keats's graves — Letter to Mrs Congreve — Pope's
blessing — ^Easter ceremonies — From Rome to Naples — De-
scription — Museo Borbonico — Visit to Pompeii — Solemnity
of street of tombs — Letter to Mrs Congreve — From Naples
to Salerno and Psestum — ^Temple of Vesta— Temple of Nep-
tune fulfils expectations — ^Amalfi — Drive to Sorrento — Back
to Naples — By steamer to Leghorn — To Florence — ^Views
from Fiesole and Bellosguardo— The Duomo — Baptistery —
Palaces — Churches — Dante's tomb — Frescoes — Pictures at
the Uffizi — Rctures at the Pitti — Pictures at the Accademia
—Expedition to Siena — Back to Florence — Michael An-
gelo's house — Letter to Blackwood — Dwarfing eflfect of the
past — Letter to Major Blackwood on 'Times' criticism of
* The MiU on the Floss,' and first mention of an Italian novel
— Leave Florence for Bologna — Churches and pictures — To
Padua by Ferrara — ^The Arena Chapel — Venice by moon-

/

254 Summary of CJiwpter X [i860.]

light — Doge's Palace — St Mark's — Pictures — Scuola di San
Rocco — ^Accademia — Gondola to Cliioggia — From Venice to
Verona — Milan — Brera Gallery and Ambrosian library-
Disappointment with cathedral — BeUagio — Over Splugen to
Switzerland — Letter to Blackwood — Saw Molescbott at
Zuricb — Home by Berne and Geneva.

255

CHAPTEK XL

1. — ^We found ourselves at home again, after jounuu,

I860

three months of delightful travel. From Berne we
brought our eldest boy Charles, to begin a new
period in his life, after four years at Hofwyl.
During our absence ' The Mill on the Floss ' came
out (April 4), and achieved a greater success than
I had ever hoped for it. The subscription was
3600 (the number originally printed was 4000);
and shortly after its appearance, Mudie having de-
manded a second thousand, Blackwood commenced
striking off 2000 more, making 6000. While we
were at Florence I had the news that these 6000
were all sold, and that 500 more were being pre-
pared. From all we can gather, the votes are
rather on the side of ' The Mill ' as a better book
than 'Adam.' Letter to

Madame

We reached home by starlight at one o'clock tliis Bodichon,

Ist July

morning ; and I write in haste, fear, and trembling iseo.

256 Anxiety to see M^ Bodiclion, [wandswoeth.
Letter to lest you should already be gone to Surrey. You

Madame

Bodichon, know what I should like — that you and your

1st July

1860. husband should come to us the first day possible,

naming any hour and conditions. We would ax-
range meals and everything else as would best suit
you. Of course I would willingly go to London to
see you, if you could not come to me. But I fear
lest neither plan should be practicable, and lest this
letter should have to be sent after you. It is from
your note only that I have learned your loss.^ It
has made me think of you with the sense that there
is more than ever a common fund of experience
between us. But I will write nothing more now.
I am almost ill with fatigue, and have only courage
to write at all, because of my anxiety not to miss
you.

Affectionate regards from both of t^ to both of
you.

Letter to I opcucd your Icttcrs and parcel a little after one

Miss Sara , i

Heimeii.2d clock ou Suudav moming, for that was the im-

July 1860. "^ ^

seasonable hour of our return from our long, long
journey. Yesterday was almost entirely employed
in feeling very weary indeed, but this moming we
are attacking the heap of small duties that always
lie before one after a long absence.

^ Death of Madame Bodichon's father.

I860.] Miss ffenneWs Book 257

It is pleasant to see your book^ fairly finished Letter to

Miss Sftra

after all delays and anxieties ; but I will say noth- Henneu, aa
ing to you about thcU until I have read it. I shall
read it the first thing before plunging into a course
of study which will take me into a different region
of thought.

We have had an unspeakably delightful journey
— one of those journeys that seem to divide one's
life in two, by the new ideas they suggest and the
new veins of interest they open. We went to
Geneva, and spent two days with my old kind
friends the D'Alberts — a real pleasure to me, espe-
cially as Mr Lewes was delighted with " Maman " as
I used to call Madame d'Albert. She is as bright
and upright as ever: the ten years have only
whitened her hair — a change which makes her face
all the softer in colouring.

We did not reach home till past midnight on Letter to
• iiTii John Black-

Saturday, when you, I suppose, had already become wood, sd

used to the comfort of having fairly got through
your London season. Self-interest, rightly under-
stood of course, prompts us to a few virtuous actions
in the way of letter-writing to let the few people
we care to hear from know at once of our where-
abouts ; and you are one of the first among the few.

1 'Thoughts in Aid of Faith.'
VOL. IL R

258 Translation of 'Adam Bede' [wandsworth,

Letter to At Beme Mr Lewes supped with Professors

John Black-

wood, 8d Valentin and Schiff, two highly distinguished phy-

Jnly 1860.

siologists, and I was much delighted to find how
much attention and interest they had given to his
views in the * Physiology of Common Life/

A French translation of 'Adam Bede/ by a Gene-
vese gentleman ^ well known to me, is now in the
press ; and the same translator has undertaken 'The
Mill on the Floss/ He appears to have rendered
*Adam* with the most scrupulous care. I think
these are all the incidents we gathered on our
homeward journey that are likely to interest you.
Letter to I havc finished my first rather rapid reading of

Miss Sara

Henneii, 7th your book, and now I thank you for it : not merely

July 1860.

for the special gift of the volume and inscription,
but for that of which many others will share the
benefit with me — the "thoughts" themselves.

So far as my reading in English books of similar
character extends, yours seems to me quite impar-
alleled in the largeness and insight with which it
estimates Christianity as an " organised experience"
— a grand advance in the moral development of
the race.

I especially delight in the passage, p. 105, begin-
ning, " And how can it be otherwise," and ending

1 M. d'Albert

I860.] Miss ffenrielPs* Thoughts in Aid of FaUh: 259

with, "formal rejection of it."^ On this and other Letter to

Miss Sara

supremely interesting matters of thought — ^perhaps Henneu, 7th

July I860.

I should rather say of experience — ^your book has
shown me that we are much nearer to each other
than I had supposed. At p. 174, again, there is
a passage beginning, " These sentiments," and end-
ing with "heroes," 2 which, for me, expresses the

1 " And how can it be otherwise than real to us, this belief that has
nourished the souls of us all, and seems to have moulded actually
anew their internal constitution, as well as stored them up with its
infinite variety of external interests and associations ! What other
than a very real thing has it been in the life of the world — sprung out
of, and again causing to spring forth, such volumes of human emo-
tion—making a current, as it were, of feeling, that has drawn within
its own sphere all the moral vitality of so many ages ! In all this
reality of influence there is indeed the testimony of Christianity
haying truly formed an integral portion of the organic life of humanity.
The regarding it as a mere excrescence, the product of morbid fana-
tical humours, is a reaction of judgment, that, it is to be hoped, will
soon be seen on all hands to be in no way implied of necessity in the
fomial rejection of it." — * Thoughts in Aid of Faith,* p. 106.

' ''These sentiments, which are bom within us, slumbering as it
were in our nature, ready to be awakened into action immediately
they are roused by hint of corresponding circumstances, are drawn
out of the whole of previous human existence. They constitute our
treasured inheritance out of all the life that has been lived before us,
to which no age, no human being who has trod the earth and laid
himself to rest, with all his mortal burden, upon her maternal bosom,
has failed to add his contribution. No generation has bad its engross-
ing conflict, sorely battling out the triumphs of mind over material
force, and through forms of monstrous abortions concurrent with its
birth, too hideous for us now to bear in contemplation, moulding the
early intelligence by every struggle, and winning its gradual powers,
—no single soul has borne itself through its personal trial, — without

260 Miss HenmeWs New Book, [wandswobth,

lietterto one-half of true human piety. That thought is

Miss Sara

Heimeii,7th one 01 my favourite altars where I oftenest go

July I860. , ^ , „ . . .

to contemplate, and to seek for invigoratmg
motive.

Of the work as a whole I am quite incompetent
to judge on a single cursory reading. I admire-=— I
respect — ^the breadth and industry of mind it ex-
hibits ; and I should be obliged to give it a more
thorough study than I can afiford at present before
I should feel warranted to urge, in the light of a
criticism, my failure to perceive the logical consist-
ency of your language in some parts with the
position you have adopted in others. In many
instances your meaning is obscure to me, or at least
lies wrapped up in more folds of abstract phrase-
ology than I have the courage or the industry to
open for myself. I think you told me that some
one had found your treatment of great questions
"cold-blooded." I am all the more delighted to
find, for my own part, an imusual fulness of sym-
pathy and heart experience breathing throughout

bequeathing to us of its fruit. There is not a religious thought that
we take to ourselves for secret comfort in our time of grief, that has
not been distilled out of the multiplicity of the hallowed te«irs of
mankind ; not an animating idea is there for our fainting courage that
has not gathered its inspiration from the bravery of the myriad
armies of the world's heroes." — * Thoughts in Aid of Faith,' p. 174.

I860.] ' Thoughts in Aid of FaUh: 261

your book. The ground for that epithet perhaps lay Letter to

Miss Sara

in a certain professorial tone which could hardly Heimeu,7th
be avoided, in a work filled with criticism of other
people's theories, except by the adoption of a simply
personal style of presentation, in which you would
have seemed to be looking up at the oracles, and
trying to reconcile their doctrines for your own
behoof, instead of appearing to be seated in a chair
above them. But you considered your own plan
more thoroughly, than any one else can have con-
sidered it for you ; and I have no doubt you had
good reasons for preferring the more impersonal
style.

Mr Lewes sends his kind regards, and when Du
Bois Keymond's book on Johannes Miiller, with
other preoccupations of a like thrilling kind, no
longer stand in the way, he will open his copy of
the 'Thoughts in Aid of Faith.' He has felt a new
interest aroused towards it since he has learned
something about it from me and the reviewer in
the 'Westminster.'

Madame Bodichon, who was here the other day,
told me that Miss Nightingale and Miss Julia
Smith had mentioned their pleasure in your book ;
but you will hear further news of all that from
themselves.

262 Sir E. B. Lytton's Criticism [wandsworth,
Letter to I retum Sir Edward Lytton's critical letter,

John Black- , . , t i t • -i i •

wood, 9th which I have read with much interest. On two

July I860. _ . , . .

points I recognise the justice of his criticism.
First, that Maggie is made to appear too passive in
the scene of quarrel in the Eed Deeps. If my book
were still in MS. I should — now that the defect is
suggested to me — alter, or rather expand, that
scene. Secondly, that the tragedy is not ade-
quately prepared. This is a defect which I felt
even while writing the third volume, and have felt
ever since the MS. left me. The Hpische Breite into
which I was beguiled by love of my subject in the
two first volumes, caused a want of proportionate
fulness in the treatment of the third, which I shall
always regret.

The other chief point of criticism — Maggie's posi-
tion towards Stephen — is too vital a part of my
whole conception and purpose for me to be con-
verted to the condemnation of it. If I am wrong
there — ^if I did not really know what my heroine
would feel and do under the circumstances in
which I deliberately placed her — I ought not to
have written this book at all, but quite a different
book, if any. If the ethics of art do not admit the
truthful presentation of a character essentially
^oble, but liable to great error — error that is ai^-

I860.] of 'The MUl on the Floss: 263

guish to its own nobleness — ^then, it seems to mo, Letter to

John Black-

the ethics of art are too narrow, and must be wood, 9th

July 1860.

widened to correspond with a widening psycho-
logy.

But it is good for me to know how my tenden-
cies as a writer clash with the conclusions of a
highly accomplished mind, that I may be warned
into examining well whether my discordance with
those conclusions may not arise rather from an
idiosyncrasy of mine, than from a conviction which
is argumentatively justifiable.

I hope you will thank Sir Edward on my behalf
for the trouble he has taken to put his criticism
into a form specific enough to be usefuL I feel
his taking such trouble to be at once a tribute and
a kindness. If printed criticisms were usually
written with only half the same warrant of know-
ledge, and with an equal sincerity of intention, I
should read them without fear of fruitless annoy-
ance.

The little envelope with its address of " Marian " Letter to

Mrs Bray,

was very welcome, and as Mr Lewes is sending lothjuiy

I860.

what a Malapropian friend once called a " missile "
to Sara, I feel inclined to slip in a word of grati-
tude — ^less for the present than for the past good-
pess, which came back to me with keener remem-

264 Recollections of Journey of 18ji9. [wandsworth,

Letter to brance than ever when we were at Genoa and at
lothjSy Como — the places I first saw with you. How

I860

wretched I was then — how peevish, how utterly
morbid ! And how kind and forbearing you were
under the oppression of my company. I should
Hke you now and then to feel happy in the thought
that you were always perfectly good to me. That
I was not good to you, is my own disagreeable
aflfair: the bitter taste of that fact is mine, not
yours.

Don't you remember Bellagio? It is hardly
altered much except in the hotels, which the
eleven years have wondrously multiplied and
bedizened for the accommodation of the English.
But if I begin to recall the things we saw in Italy,
I shall write as long a letter as Mr Lewes*s, which,
by-the-by, now I have read it, seems to be some-
thing of a "missile" in another sense than the
Malapropian. But Sara is one of the few people
to whom candour is acceptable as the highest
tribute. And private criticism has more chance of
being faithful than public. We must have mercy
on critics who are obliged to make a figure in
printed pages. They must by all means say strik-
ing things. Either we should not read printed
criticisms at all (/ donH)y or we should read them

I860.] Effect of Reviews. 265

with the constant remembrance that they are a Letter to

Mrs Bray,

fugitive kind of work which, in the present stage loth Juiy

I860.

of human nature, can rarely engage a very high
grade of conscience or ability. The fate of a book,
which is not entirely ephemeral, is never decided
by journalists or reviewers of any but an excep-
tional kind. Tell Sara her damnation — if it ever
comes to pass — will be quite independent of Na-
tionals and Westminsters. Let half-a-dozen com-
petent people read her book, and an opinion of it
will spread quite apart from either praise or blame
in reviews and newspapers.
Our big boy is a great delight to us, and makes Letter to

Mrs Bray,

our home doubly cheery. It is very sweet as one Tuesday

, evening,

gets old to have some young life about one. He is Juiy iseo.
quite a passionate musician, and we play Beethoven
duets with increasing appetite every evening. The
opportunity of hearing some inspiring music is one
of the chief benefits we hope for to counterbalance
our loss of the wide common and the fields.

We shall certainly read the parts you suggest in Letter to
the 'Education of the Feelings,'^ and I daresay I uthjuiy
shall read a good deal more of it, liking to turn
over the leaves of a book which I read first in our
old drawing-room at Foleshill, and then lent to my

^ 'Education of the Feelings.' By Charles Bray. Published 1839.

266 Feeling Oldfc/r her Years, [WANDSWOBTH,

Letter to sistei, who, with a little air of maternal experience,

Mrs Bray,

14th July pronounced it " very sensible."

I860.

There is so much that I want to do every day —
I had need cut myself into four women. We have
a great extra interest and occupation just now in
our big boy Charley, who is looking forward to a
Government examination, and wants much help
and sympathy in music and graver things. I
think we are quite peculiarly blest in the fact that
this eldest lad seems the most entirely lovable
human animal of seventeen and a half that I ever
met with or heard of : he has a sweetness of dis-
position which is saved from weakness by a re-
markable sense of duty.

We are going to let our present house, if pos-
sible — that is, get rid of it altogether on account
of its inconvenient situation: other projects are
still in a floating, unfixed condition. The water
did not look quite so green at Como — ^perhaps, as
your remark suggests, because there was a less
vivid green to be reflected from my personality as
I looked down on it. I am eleven years nearer
to the sere and yellow leaf, and my feelings are
even more autumnal than my years. I have read
no reviews of the ' Mill on the Floss ' except that
ii^ the ' Times ' whiph Blackwood seut me to FJor-

I860.] AlsteTUionfrom Review Reading. 267

ence. I abstain not from superciliousness, but on Letter to
a calm consideration of the probable proportion of i4th Jwiy

I860

benefit on the one hand, and waste of thought on
the other. It was certain that in the notices of
my first book, after the removal of my iricogniio,
there would be much ex post facto wisdom, which
could hardly profit me since / certainly knew who
I was beforehand, and knew also that no one else
knew who had not been told.
We are quite uncertain about our plans at present. Letter to

Cbas. Bray,

Our second boy, Thomie, is going to leave Hofwyl, isth juiy
and to be placed m some more expensive position,
in order to the carrying on of his education in a
more complete way, so that we are thinking of
avoiding for the present any final establishment of
ourselves, which would necessarily be attended with
additional outlay. Besides, these material cares
draw rather too severely on my strength and spirits.
But until Charlie's career has taken shape we frame
no definite projects.
If Cara values the article on Strikes in the ' West- Letter to

, .11 1 . 11 .« Miss Sara

minster Review, she will be mterested to know — if Henneu, eth

Aug. 1860.

she has not heard it already — that the writer is
Uind. 1 dined with him the other week, and could
hardly keep the tears back as I sat at table with
hiD[i, Yet he is cheerful and animated, accepting

268 Lawrerice's Portrait, [wandswokth,

Letter to with graceful quietness all the minute attentions to

MissSaia

Henneu, 6th his wauts that his blindness calls forth. His name

Aug. 1860.

is Fawcett, and he is a Fellow of Trinity Hall, Cam-
bridge. I am sitting for my portrait — for the last
time, I hope — to Lawrence, the artist who drew that
chalk-head of Thackeray, which is familiar to you.
Letter to I kuow you will rcjoicc with us that Charley has

MadAme

Bodichon, wou his placc at the Post Office, having been at the

Friday, Aug.

1860. head of the list in the examination. The dear lad

is fairly launched in life now.
Letter to I am thoroughly vexed that we didn't go to Law-

Bodichon, reucc's to-day. We made an effort, but it was rain-
evening, ing too hard at the only time that would serve us
^' to reach the train. That comes of our inconvenient

situation, so far off the railway ; and alas ! no one
comes to take our house off our hands. We may
be forced to stay here after all.

One of the things I shall count upon, if we are

able to get nearer London, is to see more of your

schools and other good works. That would help me

to do without the fields for many months of the

year.

Letter to I am vcry sorry that anything I have written

Hemien.** should have pained you. That, certainly, is the re-

1860. "^ suit I should seek most to avoid in the very slight

communication which we are able to keep up —

I860.] 'Thoughts in Aid of Faith: 269

necessarily under extremely imperfect acquaintance Letter to

MifwSara

with each other's present self. Henneii,

My first letter to you about your book, after iseo.
having read it through, was as simple and sincere a
statement of the main impressions it had produced
on me, as I knew how to write in few words. My
second letter, in which I unhappily used a formula
in order to express to you, in briefest phrase, my
dif&culty in discerning the justice of your analogical
argument, as I understood it^ was written from no
other impulse than the desire to show you that I
did not neglect your abstract just sent to me. The
said formula was entirely deprived of its application
by the statement in your next letter, that you used
the word " essence " in another sense than the one
hitherto received in philosophical writing, on the
question as to the nature of our knowledge; and
the explanation given of your meaning in your last
letter shows me — unless I am plunging into further
mistake — that you mean nothing but what I fuUy
believe. My ofifensive formula was written under
the supposition that your conclusion meant some-
thing which it apparently did Tiot mean. It is
probable enough that I was stupid ; but I should be
distressed to think that the discipline of life had
been of so little use to me, as to leave me with a

270 Emerson's 'Man the Reformer! [wandsworth,

Letter to tendency to leap at once to the attitude of a critic,
Henneu, instead of trying first to be a learner from every
I860. book written with sincere labour.

Will you tell Mr Bray that we are quitting our
present house in order to be nearer town for Charlie's
sake, who has an appointment in the Post Office, and
our time will be arduously occupied during the next
few weeks in arrangements to that end, so that our
acceptance of the pleasant proposition to visit Syden-
ham for a while is impossible. We have advertised
for a house near Eegent's Park, having just found a
gentleman and lady ready to take our present one
oflf our hands. They want to come in on quarter-
day, so that we have no time to spare.

I have been reading this morning for my spiritual
good Emerson's ' Man the Eef ormer,' which comes to
me with fresh beauty and meaning. My heart goes
out with venerating gratitude to that mild face,
which I daresay is smiling on some one as benefi-
cently as it one day did on me years and years ago.
Do not write again about opinions on large ques-
tions, dear Sara. The liability to mutual misconcep-
tion which attends such correspondence — especially
in my case, who can only write with brevity and
haste — ^makes me dread it greatly ; and I think there
is no benefit derivable to you to compensate for the

\

I860.] On Misconceptions of Others. 271

presence of that dread in me. You do not know Letter to

Miss Sara

me well enough as I am (accordmg to the doctrine Henneii,

27th Aag»

of development which you have yourself expounded), iseo.
to have the materials for interpreting my imperfect
expressions.

I think you would spare yourself some pain if
you would attribute to your friends a larger com-
prehension of ideas, and a larger acquaintance with
them, than you appear to do. I should imagine
that many of them, or at least some of them, share
with you, much more fully than you seem to sup-
pose, in the interest and hope you derive from
the doctrine of development, with its geometrical
progression towards fuller and fuller being. Surely
it is a part of human piety we should all cultivate,
not to form conclusions, on slight and dubious evi-
dence, as to other people's " tone of mind," or to re-
gard particular mistakes as a proof of general moral
incapacity to understand us. I suppose such a
tendency (to large conclusions about others) is part
of the original sin we are all bom with, for I have
continually to check it in myself.

I think I must tell you the secret, though I am Letter to

John Bhick-

distrusting my power to make it grow into a pub- wood, 28th

Aug. 1860.

lished fact. When we were in Florence, I was
rather fired with the idea of writing a historical

272 Conception of 'Roinola! [wandsworth.

Letter to romance — scene, Florence; period, the close of the

John Black-

wood, 28th fifteenth century, which was marked by Savona-

Aug. 1860.

rola's career and martyrdom. Mr Lewes has en-
couraged me to persevere in the project, saying
that I shojild probably do something in historical
romance rather diflferent in character from what
has been done before. But I want first to write
another English story, and the plan I should like
to carry out is this : to publish my next English
novel when my Italian one is advanced enough for
us to begin its publication a few months afterwards
in ' Maga.' It would appear without a name in the
Magazine, and be subsequently reprinted with the
name of "George Eliot." I need not tell you the
wherefore of this plan. You know well enough the
received phrases with which a writer is greeted
when he does something else than what was ex-
pected of him. But just now I am quite without
confidence in my future doings, and almost repent
of having formed conceptions which will go on lash-
ing me now imtil I have at least tried to fulfil them,
I am going to-day to give my last sitting to Law-
rence, and we were counting on the Major's coming
to look at the portrait and judge of it. I hope it
will be satisfactory, for I am quite set against going
through the same process a second time.

I860.] Settliifig in London, 273

"We are a Kttle distracted just now with the
prospect of removal from our present house, which
some obliging people have at last come to take oflf
our hands.

My fingers have been itching to write to you for Letter to
the last week or more, but I have waited and Bodichon,
waited, hoping to be able to tell you that we had iseo.
decided on our future house. This evening, how-
ever, I have been reading your description of
Algiers, and the desire to thank you for it moves
me too strongly to be resisted. It is admirably
written, and makes me see the country. I am so
glad to think of the deep draughts of life you get
from being able to spend half your life in that fresh
grand scenery. It must make London and English
green fields all the more enjoyable in their turn.

As for us, we are preparing to renounce the de-
t lights of roving, and to settle down quietly, as old
folks should do, for the benefit of the young ones.
We have let our present house.
. Is it not cheering to have the sunshine on the
com, and the prospect that the poor people will not
have to endure the suffering that comes on them
from a bad harvest ? The fields that were so sadly
beaten down a little while ago on the way to town
are now standing in fine yellow shocks.

VOL. II. s

274 Take Furnished fforise. [lO harewood sq.,

Letter to
Madame
Bodichon,
5th Sept.
1860.

Journal,
1860.

Letter to
John Black-
wood, 27th
Sept 1860.

I wish you could know how much we felt your
kindness to Charley. He is such a deax good fel-
low that nothing is thrown away upon him.

Write me a scrap of news about yourself, and tell
me how you and the doctor are enjoying the coun-
try. I shall get a breath of it in that way. I
think I love the fields and shudder at the streets
more and more every month.

Sept 27. — To-day is the third day we have spent
in our new home here at 10 Harewood Square. It
is a furnished house, in which we do not expect to
stay longer than six months at the utmost. Since
our return from Italy I have written a slight tale,
'Mr David Faux, Confectioner' ('Brother Jacob')
— which G. thinks worth printing.

The precious cheque arrived safely to-day. I am
much obliged to you for it, and also for the offer to
hasten further payments. I have no present need
of that accommodation, as we have given up the
idea of buying the house which attracted us, dread-
ing a step that might fetter us to town, or to a
more expensive mode of living than might ulti-
mately be desirable. I hope Mr Lewes will bring
us back a good report of Major Bleickwood's pro-
gress towards re-established health. In default of
a visit from him, it was very agreeable to have him

I860.] Misses Mrs Congreve. 275

represented by his son,^ who has the happy talent Letter to
of making a morning call one of the easiest, pleas- wood, 27th
antest things in the world.

I wonder if you know who is the writer of the
article in the * North British/ in which I am re-
viewed along with Hawthorne. Mr Lewes brought
it for me to read this morning, and it is so unmixed
in its praise, that if I had any friends I should
be uneasy lest a friend should have written it.

Since there is no possibility of my turning in to Letter to

MrsOon-

see you on my walk as in the old days, I cannot grere, leth

Oct. 1860.

feel easy without writing to tell you my regret
that I missed you when you came. In changing a
clearer sky for a foggy one, we have not changed
our habits, and we walk after lunch as usuql ; but
I should like very much to stay indoors any day_
with the expectation of seeing you, if I could- knoV^ s
beforehand of your coming. It is rather sad not to*^""^
see your face at all from week to week, and I hope
you know that I feel it so. But I am always afraid
of falling into a disagreeable urgency of invitation,
since we have nothing to offer beyond the familiar
well-worn entertainment of our own society. I
hope you and Mr Congreve are quite well now and
free from cares. Emily, I suppose, is gone with the

^ Mr William Blackwood.

Oct. 1860.

276 On ''Essays and Refviews'* [lO hakewood sq.,
Letter to sunshine of her face to Coventry. There is sadly

Mrs Con- ^ *'

greve, 16th little sunshme except that of young faces lust now.

Oct. I860.

Still we are flourishing in spite of damp and dis-
malness. We were glad to hear that the well
written article in the ' Westminster ' on the " Essays
and Eeviews" was by your friend Mr Harrison.^
Though I don't quite agree with his view of the
case, I admired the tone and style of the writing
greatly.
Letter to There is no obiection to Wednesday but this —

Mrs Con-

greve, 19th that it is our day for hearing a course of lectures,
and the lecture begins at eight. Now, since you
can't come often, we want to keep you as long as
we can, and we have a faint hope that Mr Congreve
might be able to come from his work and dine with
us and take you home. But if that were imposr
sible, could you not stay all night ? There is a bed
ready for you. Think of all that, and if you can
manage to give us the longer visit, choose another
day when our evening will be unbroken. I will
understand by your silence that you can only come
for a shorter time, and that you abide by your plan
of coming on Wednesday. I am really quite hungry
for the sight of you.

^ Mr Frederic Harrison, the now weU-known writer, and a mem-
ber of the Positivist body.

I860.] ' Quarterly ' on 'The Mill: 277

I agree with you in preferring to put simply Letter to
"New Edition"; and I see, too, that the practice wood, 2d
of advertising numbers is made vulgar and worth-
less by the doubtful veracity of some publishers,
and the low character of the books to which they
afi&x this supposed guarantee of popularity. Magna
est Veritas, &c. I can't tell you how much comfort I
feel in having publishers who believe that.

You have read the hostile article in the * Quarter-
ly/ I daresay. I have not seen it ; but Mr Lewes's
report of it made me more cheerful than any re-
view I have heard of since *The Mill' came out.
You remember Lord John Eussell was once laughed
at immensely for saying that he felt confident he
was right, because all parties found fault with him.
I really find myself taking nearly the same view of
my position, with the Freethinkers angry with me
on one side and the writer in the ' Quarterly ' on the
other — not because my representations are untruth-
ful, but because they are impartial — because I don't
load my dice so as to make their side win. The
parenthetical hint that the classical quotations in
my books might be "more correctly printed," is
an amusing sample of the grievance that belongs
to review- writing in general, since there happens
to be only one classical quotation in them all — the

278 ''Expecting DisappoirUmerUs*' [lO harewood SQ^

Greek one from the Philoctetes in "Amos Barton.*'
By-the-by, will you see that the readers have not
allowed some error to creep into that solitary bit
of pedantry?
Letter to I Understand your paradox of "expecting dis-

Miss Sara

Henneu, appointments," for that is the only form of hope

13th Nov.

1860. with which I am familiar. I should like, for your

sake, that you should rather see us in our OTvn
house than in this ; for I fear your carrying away
a general sense of yellow in connection with us —
and I am sure that is enough to set you against
the thought of us. There are some staring yellow
curtains which you will hardly help blending with
your impression of our moral sentiments. In our
own drawing-room I mean to have a paradise of
greenness. I have lately re-read your * Thoughts,'
from the beginning of the "Psychical Essence of
Christianity " to the end of the " History of Philos-
ophy," and I feel my original impression confirmed
— that the " Psychical Essence " and " General Ee-
view of the Christian System " are the most valu-
able portions. I think you once expressed your
regret that I did not understand the analogy you
traced between Feuerbach's theory and Spencer's.
I don't know what gave you that impression, for
/ never said so. I see your meaning distinctly in

I860.] Mr Lewes's Opermess of Mind. 279

that parallel. If you referred to something in Mr Letter to
Lewes s letter, let me say, once for aU, that you Henneii,

. y . . . 18th Nov.

must not impute my opmions to him nor vice versd. isw.
The intense happiness of our union is derived in
a high degree from the perfect freedom with which
we each follow and declare our own impressions. In
this respect I know 7io man so great as he — ^that
difference of opinion rouses no egoistic irritation
in him, and that he is ready to admit that another
argument is the stronger the moment his intellect
recognises it. I am glad to see Mr Bray contribut-
ing his quota to the exposure of that odious trickery
— spirit-rapping. It was not headache that I was
suflfering from when Mr Bray called, but extreme
languor and unbroken fatigue from morning to
night — a state which is always accompanied in
me, psychically, by utter self-distrust and des^ai^
of ever being equal to the demands of life. We j

should be very pleased to hear some news of Mr
and Mrs Call. I feel their removal from town
quite a loss to us.
Nov. 28. — Since I last wrote in this Journal, I Joumai.

I860.

have suffered much from physical weakness, accom-
panied with mental depression. The loss of the
country has seemed very bitter to me, and my
want of health and strength has prevented me

280 Depression of Tovm Life. [lO HAREWOOiD SQ.,
Journal, from Working much — still worse, has made me

28th Nov. ., . . , . 11 . -r

1860. despair of ever working well again. I am getting

better now by the help of tonics, and shall be better
still if I could gather more bravery, resignation, and
simplicity of striving. In the meantime my cup is
full of blessings : my home is bright and warm with
love and tenderness, and in more material, vulgar
matters we are very fortunate.

Last Tuesday — the 20th — we had a pleasant
evening. Anthony Trollope dined with us, and
made me like him very much by his straight-
forward wholesome Wesen. Afterwards Mr Helps
came in, and the talk was extremely agreeable.
He told me the Queen had been speaking to him
in great admiration of my books— especially ' The
Mill on the Floss.' It is interesting to know that
Eoyalty can be touched by that sort of writing,
and I was grateful to Mr Helps for his wish to
tell me of the sympathy given to me in that
quarter.

To-day I have had a letter from M. d' Albert,
saying that at last the French edition of *Adam
Bede ' is published. He pleases me very much by
saying that he finds not a sentence that he can
retrench in the first volume of ' The Mill.'

I am engaged now in writing a story — ^the idea

I860.] Monday Popular Concerts, 281

of which came to me after our arrival in this joumai,

28th Nov.

house, and which has thrust itself between me iseo.
and the other book I was meditating. It is * Silas
Maxner, the Weaver of Eaveloe.' I am still only
at about the 62d page, for I have written slowly
and interruptedly.

The sight of sunshine usually brings you to my Letter to

Mrs Con-

mind, because you are my latest association with grave, 7th

Dec. LSOO

the country; but I think of you much oftener
than I see the sunshine, for the weather in London
has been more uninterruptedly dismal than ever
for the last fortnight. Nevertheless / am brighter ;
and since I beheve your goodness will make that
agreeable news to you, I write on purpose to tell
it. Quinine and steel have at last made me brave
and cheerful, and I really don't mind a journey
up-stairs. If you had not repressed our hope of
seeing you again until your sister's return, I should
have asked you to join us for the Exeter Hall
performance of the " Messiah " this evening, which
I am looking forward to with deUght. The Monday
Popular Concerts at St James's Hall are our easiest
and cheapest pleasures. I go in my bonnet; we
sit in the shilling places in the body of the hall,
and hear to perfection for a shilUng! That is
agreeable when one hears Beethoven's quartetts

282 Settled in New House. [16 blandford sq.,

and sonatas. Pray bear in mind that these things
are to be had when you are more at liberty.
Journal, Dec. 17. — ^We entered to-day our new home — 16

I860.

Blandford Square — which we have taken for three
years, hoping by the end of that time to have so
far done our duty by the boys as to be free to
live where we list.
Letter to Your visiou of me as "settled" was painfully

Miss Sara

Heimeii, in coutrast with the fact. The last virtue human

20th Dec.

1860. beings will attain, I am inclined to think, is scru-

pulosity in promising and faithfulness in fulfilment.
We are still far oflf our last stadium of develop-
ment, and so it has come to pass, that though we
were in the house on Monday last, our curtains are
not up and our oil-cloth is not down. Such is life,
seen from the furnishing point of view ! I can't tell
you how hateful this sort of time-frittering work is
to me, who every year care less for houses and de-
test shops more. To crown my sorrows, I have lost
my pen — ^my old favourite pen, with which I have
written for eight years, — at least it is not forth-
coming. We have been reading the proof of Mr
Spencer's second part, and I am supremely gratified
by it, because he brings his argument to a point
which I did not anticipate from him. It is, as
he says, a result of his riper thought. After aU

I860.] Faith in a new Religiaus Formula. 283

the bustle of Monday, I went to hear Sims Eeeves
sing "Adelaide" — that ne plus ultra of passionate
song, — and I wish you had been there for one
quarter of an hour, that you might have heard it too.

The bright point in your letter is, that you are Letter to

Madame

in a happy state of mind yourself. For the rest Bodichon,

. , , SethDec

we must wait and not be unpatient with those iseo.
who have their inward trials, though everything
outward seems to smile on them. It seems to
those who are differently placed that the time of
freedom from strong ties and urgent claims must
be very precious for the ends of self -culture and
good helpful work towards the world at large.
But it hardly ever is so. As for the forms and
ceremonies, I feel no regret that any should turn
to them for comfort if they can find comfort in
them ; sympathetically I enjoy them myself. But
I have faith in the working out of higher possi-
bilities than the Catholic or any other Church has
presented; and those who have strength to wait
and endure are bound to accept no formula which
their whole souls — their intellect as well as their
emotions — do not embrace with entire reverence.
The " highest calling and election *' is to do without
opium, and live through all our pain with conscious,
clear-eyed endurance.

284 Herbert Spencer's New Book. [16 blandford SQ.,

Letter to
Madame
Bodichon,
26th Dec.
1860.

Journal,
1860.

We have no sorrow just now, except my constant
inward " worrit " of unbelief in any future of good
work on my part. Everything I do seems poor
and trivial in the doing; and when it is quite
gone from me, and seems no longer my own, then
I rejoice in it and think it fine. That is the history
of my life.

I have been wanting to go to your school again,
to refresh myself with the young voices there, but
I have not been able to do it. My walks have all
been taken up with shopping errands of late ; but
I hope to get more leisure soon.

We both beg to oflfer our affectionate remem-
brances to the doctor. Get Herbert Spencer's new
work — ^the two first quarterly parts. It is the best
thing he has done.

Dec. 31. — This year has been marked by many
blessings, and above all, by the comfort we have
found in having Charles with us. Since we set
out on our journey to Italy on 25th March, the
time has not been fruitful in work: distractions
about our change of residence have run away with
many days; and since I have been in London
my state of health has been depressing to aU
effort.

May the next year be more fruitful!

1861.] ' Silas Mamer! 285

I am writing a story which came across my other Letter to
plans by a sudden inspiration. I don't know at wood, 12th
present whether it will resolve itself into a book
short enough for me to complete before Easter, or
whether it will expand beyond that possibility. It
seems to me that nobody will take any interest in
it but myself, for it is extremely unlike the popular
stories going; but Mr Lewes declares that I am
wrong, and says it is as good as anything I have
done. It is a story of old-fashioned village life,
which has unfolded itself from the merest millet-
seed of thought. I think I get slower and more
timid in my writing, but perhaps worry about
houses and servants and boys, with want of bodily
strength, may have had something to do with that.
I hope to be quiet now.

Feb. 1. — The first month of the New Year has Jommi,

1861.

been passed in much bodily discomfort — making
both work and leisure heavy. I have reached page
209 of my story, which is to be in one volume, and
I want to get it ready for Easter, but I dare prom-
ise myself nothing with this feeble body.

The other day I had charming letters from M.
and Mme. d' Albert, saying that the French 'Adam '
goes on very well, and showing an appreciation of
' The Mill ' which pleases me.

286 Flight to Dorking. [l6 blandfoed SQ.,

Letter to I was feeling so ill on Friday and Saturday, that

greve,6th I had not Spirit to write and thank you for the
basket of eggs — ^an invaluable present, I was par-
ticularly grateful this morning at breakfast, when
a fine large one fell to my share.

On Saturday afternoon we were both so utterly
incapable, that Mr Lewes insisted on our setting off
forthwith into the country. But we only got as far
as Dorking, and came back yesterday. I felt a new
creature as soon as I was in the country ; and we
had two brilliant days for rambling and driving
about that lovely Surrey. I suppose we must keep
soul and body together by occasional flights of this
sort; and don't you think an occasional flight to
town will be good for you ?
Letter to I have destroyed almost all my friends' letters to

Miss Sara

Henneii, me, becausc they were only intended for my eyes,

8th Feb.

1861. and could only fall into the hands of persons who

knew Uttle of the writers, if I allowed them to re-
main till after my death. In proportion as I love
every form of piety — which is venerating love — I
hate hard curiosity ; and, imhappily, my experience
has impressed me with the sense that hard curiosity
is the more common temper of mind. But enough
of that. The reminders I am getting from time to
time of Coventry distress have made me think veiy

1861.] ' CarlyMs Memoirs' < 287

often yearningly and painfully of the friends who Letter to

MissSaiah

are more immediately affected by it, and I often nenneu,

8th Feb.

wonder if more definite information would increase isei.
or lessen my anxiety for them. Send me what
word you can from time to time, that there may be
some reality in my image of things round your
hearth.

I send you by post to-day about 230 pages of Letter to

John Black-

MS. I send it because in my experience printing wood, isth

Feb. 1861.

and its preliminaries have always been rather a slow
business ; and as the story — ^if published at Easter
at all — ^should be ready by Easter week, there is no
time to lose. We are reading * Carlyle's Memoirs '
with much interest ; but so far as we have gone, he
certainly does, seem to me something of a "Sad-
ducee" — a very handsome one, judging from the
portrait. What a memory and what an experience
for a novelist! But somehow experience and
finished faculty rarely go together. Dearly beloved
Scott had the greatest combination of experience
and faculty — yet even he never m^de the most of
his treasures, at least in his Tnode of presentation.
Send us better news of Major Blackwood if you
can. We feel so old and rickety ourselves, that we
have a peculiar interest in invalids. Mr Lewes is
going to lecture for the Post Office this evening, by

288 Pleasure in Zoo, Gardens. [l6 blandford sq.,

Mr Trollope's request. I am rather uneasy about
it, and wish he were well through the unusual ex-
citement.
Letter to I have been much relieved by Mr Lewes having

MrsGon-

greve, 16th got through his lecture at the Post Ofl&ce ^ with per-

Feb. 1861.

feet ease and success, for I had feared the unusual
excitement for him. / am better. I have not
been working much lately — indeed this year has
been a comparatively idle one. I think my malaise
is chiefly owing to the depressing influence of town
air and town scenes. The Zoological Gardens are
my one outdoor pleasure now, and we can take it
several times a- week, for Mr Lewes has become a
fellow.

My love is often visiting you. Entertain it well.
Letter to I am glad to hear that Mr Maurice impressed

Miss Sara

Henneu, you agreeably. If I had strength to be adventur-

20th Feb.

1801. ous on Sunday, I should go to hear him preach as

well as others. But I am imequal to the least
exertion or irregularity. My only pleasure away
from our own hearth is goiug to the Zoological Gar-
dens. Mr Lewes is a fellow, so we turn in there
several times a -week; and I find the birds and
beasts there most congenial to my spirit. There is
a Shoebill, a great bird of grotesque ugliness, whose

^ Lectnre on CeU Forms.

1861.] Depressing London Fogs. 289

top-knot looks brushed up to a point with an ex- Letter to

Miss Sara

emplaxy deference to the demands of society, but Henneii,

20th Feb.

who, I am sure, has no idea that he looks the isei.
handsomer for it. I cherish an unrequited at-
tachment to him.

If you are in London this morning, in this fine Letter to

Mrs Con-
dun-coloured fog, you know how to pity me. But greve, 23d

Feb. 1861.

I feel myself wicked for implying that I have any
grievances. Only last week we had a circular from
the clergyman at Attleboro, where there is a con-
siderable population entirely dependent on the
ribbon trade, telling us how the poor weavers are
suffering from the effects of the Coventry strike.
And these less known undramatic. tales of want
win no wide help, such as has been given in the
case of the Hartley colliery accident.

Your letter was a contribution towards a more
cheerful view of things, for whatever may be the
minor evils you hint at, I know that Mr Congreve's
better health and the satisfaction you have in his
doing effective work will outweigh them. We
have had a Dr Wyatt here lately — an Oxford
physician — who was much interested in hearing
of Mr Congreve again — not only on the ground of
Oxford remembrances, but from having read his
writings.

VOL. n. T

290 'Silas Mamer ' Sowhre. [16 blandford sq.,
Letter to I wos much pleased with the afifectionate respect

Mrs Con-

greve, 23d that was expressed in all the notices of Mr Clougy

Feb. 1861.

that I happened to see in the newspapers. They
were an indication that there must be a great deal
of private sympathy to soothe poor Mrs Clough, if
any soothing is possible in such cases. That little
poem of his which was quoted in the ' Spectator '
about parted friendships touched me deeply.

You may be sure we are ailing, but I am ashamed

of dwelling on a subject that ofifers so little variety.

Letter to I dou't woudcr at your finding my story, as far

John Black- • i j t

wood, 24th as you have read it, rather sombre: indeed, I

Feb. 1861.

should not have believed that any one would have
been interested iq it but myself (since Wordsworth
is dead) if Mr Lewes had not been strongly arrested
by it. But I hope you will not find it at all a sad
story, as a whole, since it sets — or is intended to set
— ^in a strong light the remedial influences of pure,
natural human relations. The Nemesis is a very
mild one. I have felt all through as if the story
would have lent itself best to metrical rather than
to prose fiction, especially in all that relates to the
psychology of Silas ; except that, under that treat-
ment, there could not be an equal play of humour.
It came to me first of all quite suddenly, as a sort

1 Arthur Hugh Clough— the Poet

1861.] Chronological Order in Writings. 291

of legendary tale, suggested by my recollection of Letter to
having once, in early childhood, seen a linen weaver wood, 24th
with a bag on his back ; but as my mind dwelt on
the subject, I became inclined to a more realistic
treatment.

My chief reason for wishing to publish, the story
now, is, that I like my writings to appear in the
order in which they are written, because they
belong to successive mental phases, and when they
are a year behind me, I can no longer feel that
thorough identification with them which gives zest
to the sense of authorship. I generally like them
better at that distance, but then I feel as if they
might just as well have been written by somebody
else. It would have been a great pleasure to me
if Major Blackwood could have read my story. I
am very glad to have the first part tested by the
reading of your nephew and Mr Simpson, and to
find that it can interest them at all.

March 10. — Finished * Silas Mamer,' and sent off joumai,

1861

the last thirty pages to Edinburgh.

Your letter came to me just as we were prepar- Letter to

ing to start in search of fresh air and the fresh mh March

thoughts that come with it. I hope you never Hastings?
doubt that I feel a deep interest in knowing all
facts that touch you nearly. I should like to think

292 The Author of 'ThomdcUe.' [i6 blandford sq.,

Letter to that it was some small comfort to Cara and you to
i9tii Sii know that wherever I am there is one among that
^Jiing^ number of your friends — necessarily decreasing
with increasing years — who enter into your present
experience with the light of memories; for kind
feeling can never replace fully the sympathy that
comes from memoiy. My disposition is so faultily
anxious and foreboding, that I am not likely to
forget anything of a saddening sort.

Tell Sara we saw Mr William Smith, author of
* Thomdale,' a short time ago, and he spoke of her
and her book with interest: he thought her book
"suggestive." He called on us during a visit to
London, made for the sake of getting married. The
lady is, or rather was, a Miss Gumming, daughter
of a blind physician of Edinburgh. He said they
had talked to each other for some time of the " im-
possibility" of marrying, because they were both
too poor. " But," he said, " it is dangerous, Lewes,
to talk even of the impossibility." The difficulties
gradually dwindled, and the advantages magnified
themselves. She is a nice person, we hear ; and I
was particularly pleased with him, — ^he is modest to
diffidence, yet bright and keenly awake.

I am just come in from our first good blow on
the beach, and have that delicious sort of numbness

1861.] Article on 'The MUV in 'MacmUlan' 293

in arms and legs that comes from walking hard in Letter to

the Brays,

a fresh wind. i9th March

* Silas Mamer is m one volume. It was quite Haatings.

a sudden inspiration that came across me, in the

midst of altogether different meditations.

The latest number I had heard of was 3300, so Letter to

, . ^^^^ Black-

tnat your letter brought me agreeable mformation. wood, soth

March 1861.

I am particularly gratified, because this spirited
subscription must rest on my character as a writer
generally, and not simply on the popularity of

* Adam Bede.' There is an article on * The Mill ' in

* MacmiUan's Magazine ' which is worth reading. I
cannot, of course, agree with the writer in all his
regrets : if I could have done so, I should not have
written the book I did write, but quite another.
Still it is a comfort to me to read any criticism
which recognises the high responsibilities of litera-
ture that undertakes to represent life. The ordin-
ary tone about art is that the artist may do what
he will, provided he pleases the public.

I am very glad to be told — whenever you can
tell me — that the Major is not suffering heavUy, I
know so well the preciousness of those smiles that
tell one the mind is not held out of all reach of
soothing.

W^ are wavering whether we shall go to Floreijce

294 ''The World *' no Loss. [16 blandfoed sq.,

this spring, or wait till the year and other things
are more advanced.
Letter to It gave me pleasure to have your letter, not only

Mrs Peter

Taylor, ist becauso of the kind expressions of sympathy it

April 1861. . , t 1 . .

contains, but also because it gives me an oppor-
tunity of telling you, after the lapse of years, that
I remember gratefully how you wrote to me with
generous consideration and belief at a time when
most persons who knew anything of me were dis-
posed (naturally enough) to judge me rather
severely. Only a woman of rare qualities would
have written to me as you did on the strength of
the brief intercourse that had passed between us.

It was never a trial to me to have been cut off
from what is called the world, and I think I love
none of my fellow-creatures the less for it : still I
must always retain a peculiar regard for those who
showed me any kindness in word or deed at that
time, when there was the least evidence in my
favour. The list of those who did so is a short one,
so that I can often and easily recall it.

For the last six years I have ceased to be " Miss
Evans " for any one who has personal relations with
me — ^having held myself under all the responsibil-
ities of a married woman. I wish this to be dis-
tinctly understood; and when I tell you that we

1861.] Subscription to 'SUas Mamer.* 295

have a great boy of eighteen at home who calls me Letter to

Mrs Peter

" mother," as well as two other boys, almost as tall, Taylor, ist
, , .,, April laei.

who write to me under the same name, you will

understand that the point is not one of mere ego-
ism or personal dignity, when I request that any
one who has a regard for me will cease to speak
of me by my maiden name.

I am much obliged to you for your punctuality Letter to

, _ . - John Black-

in sending me my precious cheque. I prize the wood, 4th

- . , , , , . , , , April 1861.

money frmt of my labour very highly as the means
of saving us dependence, or the degradation of
writing when we are no longer able to write well,
or to write what we have not written before.

Mr Langford brought us word that he thought
the total subscription (including Scotland and Ire-
land) would mount to 5500. That is really very
great. And letters "drop in from time to time giv-
ing me words of strong encouragement — especially
about * The Mill ; ' so that I have reason to be cheer-
ful, and to believe that where one has a large public,
one's words must hit their mark. If it were not
for that, special cases of misinterpretation might
paralyse me. For example, pray notice how one
critic attributes to me a disdain for Tom ; as if it
were not my respect for Tom which infused itself
into my reader, — as if he could have respected Tom

296 Pays no Visits in London. [16 blandford SQ.,

Letter to
John Black-
wood, 4th
AprI 1861.

Letter to
Mrs Peter
Taylor, 6th
April 1861.

if I had not painted him with respect; the ex-
hibition of the right on both sides being the very
soul of my intention in the story. However, I
ought to be satisfied if I have roused the feeling
that does justice to both sides.

I feel more at ease in omitting formalities with
you than I should with most persons, because I
know you are yourself accustomed to have other
reasons for your conduct than mere fashion, and
I believe you will understand me without many
words when I tell you what Mr Lewes felt unable
to explain on the instant when you kindly ex-
pressed the wish to see us at your house — ^namely,
that I have found it a necessity of my London life
to make the rule of neoer paying visits. Without
a carriage, and with my easily perturbed health,
London distances would make any other rule quite
irreconcilable for me with any eflScient use of my
days ; and I am obliged to give up the few visits
which would be reaUy attractive and fruitful in
order to avoid the many visits which would be the
reverse. It is only by saying, " I never pay visits,"
that I can escape being ungracious or unkind — only
by renouncing all social intercourse but such as
comes to our own fireside, that I can escape sacri-
ficing the chief objects of life.

1861.] No Presentation Copies. 297

I think it very good of those with whom I have Letter to
much fellow-feeling, if they will let me have the Taylor, eth
pleasure of seeing them without their expecting the ^
usual reciprocity of visits ; and I hope I need hardly
say that you are among the visitors who would be
giving me pleasure in this way. I think your im-
agination will supply all I have left unsaid — all
the details that run away with our hours when our
life extends at all beyond our own homes, and I
am not afraid of your misinterpreting my stay-at-
home rule into churlishness.

We went to hear Beethoven's " Mass in D " last Letter to

Hiss Sara

night, and on Wednesday to hear Mendelssohn's nenneu,
" Walpurgis Nacht," and Beethoven's " Symphony in isei.
B," so that we have had two musical treats this
week; but the enjoyment of such things is much
diminished by the gas and bad air. Indeed our
long addiction to a quiet Ufe, in which our daily
walk amongst the still grass and trees was eifSte to
us, has unfitted us for the sacrifices that London
demands. Don't think about reading ' Silas Mar-
ner ' just because it is come out. I hate obligato
reading and obligato talk about my books. / never
send them to any one, and never wish to be spoken
to about them, except by an unpremeditated spon-
taneous prompting. They are written out of my

298 Second Journey to Italy. [italy.

Letter to deepest belief, and as well as I can, for the great
Henneu, public — and every sincere strong word will find
i8«i. ^ its mark in that public. Perhaps the annoyance I
suffered [referring to the Liggins affair] heis made
me rather morbid on such points ; but apart from
my own weaknesses, I think the less an author
hears about himself the better. Don't mistake me :
I am writing a general explanation, Tiot anything
applicable to you.
Journal, April 19. — ^Wc sct off ou our second journey to

Florence, through France and by the Cornice Eoad.
Our weather was delicious, a little rain, and we suf-
fered neither from heat nor from dust.
Letter to We havc had a paradisaic journey hitherto. It

LewL, 25th does one good to look at the Proven5als — men and
^ women. They are quite a different race from the

Northern French — large, round-featured, fuU-eyed,
with an expression of bonhomie, calm and suave.
They are very much like the pleasantest Italians.
The women at Aries and Toulon are remarkably
handsome. On Tuesday morning we set out about
ten on our way to Nice, hiring a carriage and taking
post-horses. The sky was grey, and after an hour
or so we had rain: nevertheless our journey to
Vidauban, about half-way to Nice, was enchanting.
Everywhere a delicious plain, covered with bright

1861.] Drive from Toulon to Nice. 299

green com, sprouting vines, mulberry-trees, olives, Letter to

Charles L.

and here and there meadows sprinkled with butter- Lewes, 25th
cups, made the nearer landscapes, and, in the dis-
tance, mountains, of varying outline. Mutter felt
herself in a state of perfect bliss from only looking
at this peaceful, generous nature, — and you often
came across the green blades of com, and made her
love it all the better. We had meant to go on to
Frdjus that night, but no horses were to be had ;
so we made up our minds to rest at Vidauban, and
went out to have a stroll before our six o'clock din-
ner. Such a stroll ! The sun had kindly come out
for us, and we enjoyed it all the more for the grey-
ness of the morning. There is a crystally clear
river flowiug by Vidauban, called the Argent: it
rushes along between a fringe of aspens and willows ;
and the sunhght lay under the boughs, and fell on
the eddying water, making Pater and me very happy
as we wandered. The next morning we set off early,
to be sure of horses before they had been used up
by other travellers. The country was not quite so
lovely, but we had the sunlight to compensate until
we got past Fr^jus, where we had our first view of
the sea since Toulon, and where the scenery changes
to the entirely mountainous, the road winding above
gorges of pine -clad masses for a long way. To

300 Stay in Florence. [FLORENCE,

Letter to heighten the contrast, a heavy storm came, which
Lewes, 25th thoroughly laid the dust for us, if it had no other
advantage. The sun came out gloriously again be-
fore we reached Cannes, and lit up the yellow broom,
which is now in all its splendour, and clothes vast
slopes by which our road wound. We had still a
four hours' journey to Nice, where we arrived at six
o'clock, with headaches that made us glad of the
luxuries to be found in a great hotel,
jonrnai. May 5. — ^Dcar Florence was lovelier than ever

1861.

on this second view, and ill-health was the only de-
duction from perfect enjoyment. We had comfort-
able quarters in the Albergo della Vittoria, on the
Amo ; we had the best news from England about
the success of * Silas Marner;' and we had long
letters from our dear boy to make us feel easy
about home.
Letter to Your plcasant news had been ripening at the Post

John Black-

wood, 6th Office several days before we enjoyed the receipt of

May 1861. ... -i i -i i i

it; for our journey lasted us longer than we expected,
and we didn't reach this place till yesterday even-
ing. We have come with vetturino from Toulon —
the most delightful (and the most expensive) jour-
ney we have ever had. I daresay you know the
Cornice : if not, do know it some time, and bring
Mrs Blackwood that way into Italy. Meanwhile I

1861.] No Misers with Paper Money, 301

am glad to think that you are having a less fatiguing lictter to

John Black-
change to places where you can " carry the comforts wood, sth

Hay 1861.

o' the Sautmarket" with you, which is not quite
the case with travellers along the Mediterranean
coast. I hope I shall soon hear that you are thor-
oughly set up by fresh air and fresh circumstances,
along with pleasant companionship.

Except a thunderstorm, which gave a grand vari-
ety to the mountains, and a little gentle rain, the
first day from Toulon, which made the green com
all the fresher, we have had unbroken sunshine,
without heat and without dust. I suppose this
season and late autumn must be the perfect mo-
ments for taking this supremely beautiful journey.
We must be for ever ashamed of ourselves if we
don't work the better for it.

It was very good of you to write to me in the
midst of your hurry, that I might have good news
to greet me. It really did lighten our weariness,
and make the noisy streets that prevented sleep
more endurable. I was amused with your detail
about Professor Aytoun's sovereigns. There can be
no great paintings of misers under the present sys-
tem of paper-money — cheques, bills, scrip, and the
like : nobody can handle that dull property as men
handled the glittering gold.

1

302 Iteneived Delight in Florence. [FLORENCE,

Letter to The Florentine winds, being of a grave and ear-

Charlei L.

Lewes, iTth nest disposition, have naturally a disgust for trivial
dilettanti foreigners, and seize on the peculiarly
feeble and worthless with much virulence. In con-
sequence we had a sad history for nearly a week —
Pater doing little else than nurse me, and I doing
little else but feel eminently uncomfortable, for
which, as you know, I have a faculty " second to
none/' I feel very full of thankfulness for all the
creatures I have got to love — all the beautiful and
great things that are given me to know ; and I feel,
too, much younger and more hopeful, as if a great
deal of life and work were still before me. Pater
and I have had great satisfaction in finding our
impressions of admiration ' more than renewed in
returning to Florence: the things we cared about
when we were here before seem even more worthy
than they did in our memories. We have had de-
lightful weather since the cold winds abated; and
the evening lights on the Amo, the bridges, and
the quaint houses, are a treat that we think of
beforehand.

Your letters, too, are thought of beforehand. We
long for them, and when they come they don't dis-
appoint us : they teU us everything, and make us
feel at home with you after a fashion. I confess to

1861.] Enj(yjfing the thcntgU of Work, 303

some dread of Blandford Square in the abstract. I Letter to

- T T -n T 1 Charles L.

fear London will seem more odious to me than Lewes, irtu
ever ; but I think I shall bear it with more forti-
tude. After all, that is the best place to live in
where one has a strong reason for living.

We have been industriously foraging in old Letter to

John Black-
streets and old books. I feel very brave just now, wood, i9th

May 1861.

and enjoy the thought of work — but don't set your
mind on my doing just what I have dreamed. It
may turn out that I can't work freely and fully
enough in the medium I have chosen, and in that
case I must give it up : for I will never write any-
thing to which my whole heart, mind, and con-
science don't consent, so that I may feel that it
was something — however small — which wanted to
be done in this world, and that I am just the organ
for that small bit of work.

I am very much cheered by the way in which
' Silas ' is received. I hope it has made some slight
pleasure for you too, in the midst of incomparably
deeper feelings of sadness.^ Your quiet tour among
the lakes was the best possible thing for you.
What place is not better "out of the season"?
— although I feel I am almost wicked in my hatred
of being where there are many other people enjoy-

1 The death of Migor Blackwood.

304 BvxMe's Ideal not George Eliot's, [FLORENCE,

Letter to ing themselves. I am very far behind Mr Buckle's
wood, 19th millennial prospect, which is, that men will be
*^ * more and more congregated in cities and occupied
with human affairs, so as to be less and less under
the influence of Nature — i.e., the sky, the hills, and
the plains; whereby superstition will vanish, and
statistics will reign for ever and ever.

Mr Lewes is kept in continual distraction by
having to attend to my wants — agoing with me to
the Magliabecchian library, and poking about every-
where on my behalf — I having very little self-help
about me of the pushing and inquiring kind.

I look forward with keen anxiety to the next
outbreak of war — ^longing for some turn of affairs
that will save poor Venice from being bombarded
by those terrible Austrian forts.

Thanks for your letters : we both say, " More —
give us more."
Letter to Florencc is getting hot, and I am the less sorry

Lewes, 27th to Icavc it bccausc it has agreed very ill with the
*^ ^^^ ' dear Paterculus. This evening we have been mount-
ing to the top of Giotto's tower — ^a very sublime
getting up-stairs indeed — and our muscles are much
astonished at the unusual exercise; so you must
not be shocked if my letter seems to be written
with dim faculties as well as with a dim light.

1861.] Expedition to CamcUdoli. 306

We have seen no one but Mrs Trollope and her Letter to

Charles L.

pretty little girl Beatrice, who is a musical genius. Lewee, 27th

May 1861.

She is a delicate fairy, about ten years old, but
sings with a grace and expression that make it a
thrilling delight to hear her.

We have had glorious sunsets, shedding crimson
and golden lights under the dark bridges across the
Amo. All Florence turns out at eventide, but we
avoid the slow crowds on the Lung' Amo, and take
our way " up all manner of streets."

May and June. — ^At the end of May Mr T. Trollope Jonmai.

1861

came back and persuaded us to stay long enough to
make the expedition to Camaldoli and La Vemia in
his company. We arrived at Florence on the 4th
May, and left it on the 7th June — thirty-four days
of precious time spent there. Will it be all in vain ?
Our morning hours were spent in looking at streets,
buildings, and pictures, in hunting up old books, at
shops or stalls, or in reading at the Magliabecchian
Library. Alas! I could have done much more if
I had been well; but that regret applies to most
years of my life. Eetumed by Lago Maggiore and
the St Gothard ; reached home June 14. Blackwood
having waited in town to see us, came to lunch with
us, and asked me if I would go to dine at Green-
wich on the following Monday, to which I said
VOL. II. U

306 Dinner at Greenwich. [16 blandford SQ.,

Journal, "ves," bv wav of exception to my resolve that I

1861, _--.

will go nowhere for the rest of this year. He
drove us there with Colonel Stewart, and we had a
pleasant evening — the sight of a game at golf in the
Park, and a hazy view of the distant shipping, with
the Hospital finely broken by trees in the fore-
ground. At dinner Colonel Hamley and Mr Skene
joined us : Delane, who had been invited, was un-
able to come. The chat was agreeable enough, but
the sight of the gliding ships darkening against
the dying sunlight made me feel chat rather im-
portimate.

June 16. — This morning, for the first time, I feel
myself quietly settled at home. I am in excellent
health, and long to work steadily and effectively.
If it were possible that I should produce letter work
than I have yet done ! At least there is a possi-
bility that I may make greater efforts against indo-
lence and the despondency that comes from too
egoistic a dread of failure.

Jwne 19. — This is the last entry I mean to make
in my old book in which I wrote for the first time
at Geneva in 1849. What moments of despair I
passed through after that — despair that life would
ever be made precious to me by the consciousness
that I lived to some good purpose! It was that

1861.] Mr Lewes Delicate. 307

sort of despair that sucked away the sap of half the journal,

1861.

hours which might have been filled by energetic
youthful activity ; and the same demon tries to get
hold of me again whenever an old work is dismissed
and a new one is being meditated.

Some of one's first thoughts on coming home Letter to
after an absence of much length are about the Heimeii,
friends one had left behind — what has happened to isei.
them in the meantime, and how are they now?
And yet, though we came home last Friday evening,
I have not had the quiet moment for writing these
thoughts until this morning. I know I need put
no questions to you, who always divine what I want
to be told. We have had a perfect journey except
as regards health — a large, large exception. The
cold winds alternating with the hot sun, or some
other cause, laid very unkind hold on Mr Lewes
early after our arrival at Florence, and he was
ailing with sore throat and cough continually, so
that he has come back looking thin and delicate,
though the ailments seem to be nearly passed
away.

I wish you could have shared the pleasures of
our last expedition from Florence — to the Monas-
teries of Camaldoli and La Vemia : I think it was
just the sort of thing you would have entered into

308 Description of La Vemia, [16 blandford sq.,
Letter to with thorough zest. Imagine the Franciscans of

Miss Sara

Henneu, La Vemia, which is perched upon an abrupt rock

19th June ..it . .

1861. rising sheer on the summit of a mountain, tummg

out at midnight (and when there is deep snow for
their feet to plunge in), and chanting their slow
way up to the little chapel perched at a lofty dis-
tance above their already lofty monastery! This
they do every night throughout the year in all
weathers.

Give my loving greeting to Cara and Mr Bray,
and then sit down and write me one of your charm-
ing letters, making a little picture of everybody
and everything about you. God bless you — is
the old-fashioned summing up of sincere affection,
without the least smirk of studied civility.

Letter to Your letter gave me a pleasant vision of Sunday

Miss Sara .

Henneii, sunshinc ou the flowers, and you among them, with

12th July

1861. your eyes brightened by busy and enjoyable

thoughts.

Yes; I hope we are well out of that phase in
which the most philosophic view of the past was
held to be a smiling survey of human folly, and
when the wisest man was supposed to be one
who could sympathise with no age but the age to
come.

When I received your Monday packet, I was

1861.] Comte and his Critics. 309

fresh from six quarto volumes on the history of the Letter to

Miss Sara

monastic orders, and had just begun a less formid- Henneu,
able modem book on the same subject — Monta- isei.
lembert's * Monks of the West.' Our reading, you
see, lay in very dififerent quarters, but I fancy our
thoughts sometimes touched the same ground. I
am rather puzzled and shocked, however, by your
high admiration of the Articles on the Study of
History in the 'ComhilL' I should speak with
the reserve due to the fact that I have only read
the second article ; and this, I confess, did not im-
press me as exhibiting any mastery of the question,
while its tone towards much abler thinkers than
the writer himself is to me extremely repulsive.
Such writing as, "We should not be called upon
to believe that every crotchet which tickled the
insane vanity of a conceited Frenchman was an
eternal and self-evident truth," is to me simply dis-
gusting, though it were directed against the Father
of lies. It represents no fact except the writer's
own desire to be bitter, and is worthily finished by
the dull and irreverent antithesis of "the eternal
truth and infernal lie."

I quite agree with you — so far as I am able to
form a judgment — ^in regarding Positivism as one-
sided ; but Comte was a great thinker, nevertheless,

310 Comte's Inimirums Ideas. [16 blandfokd SQ.,

Letter to
Miss Sara
Hennell,
12th July
1861.

Letter to
MrsCon-
greve, 18th
July 1861.

and ought to be treated with reverence by all
smaDer fry.

I have just been reading the Survey of the
Middle Ages contained in the fifth volume of the
* Philosophie Positive/ and to my apprehension few
chapters can be fuller of luminous ideas. I am
thankful to leam from it. There may be more pro-
fundity in the *Comhill's' exposition than I am
able to penetrate, or possibly the first article may
contain weightier matter than the second.

Mrs Bodichon is near us now, and one always
gets good from contact with her healthy practical
life. Mr Lewes is gone to see Mrs Congreve and
carry his net to the Wimbledon ponds. I hope he
will get a little strength as well as grist for his
microscope.

The English * Imitation ' I told you of, which is
used by the Catholics, is Challoner's. I have looked
into it again since I saw you, and I think if you
want to give the book away, this translation is as
good as any you are likely to get among current
editions. If it were for yourself, an old bookstall
would be more likely to furnish what you want.
Don't ever think of me as valuing either you or
Mr Congreve less instead of more. You naughtily
implied something of that kind just when you were

1861.] Fechter in "Hamlet'* 311

running away from me. How could any goodness Letter to

Mrs Con-
become less precious to me unless my life had greve, istn
,, _____ 1., J^r 1861.

ceased to be a growth, and had become mere shrink-
ing and degeneracy? I always imagine that if I
were near you now, I should profit more by the
gift of your presence — just as one feels about all
past sunlight.

July 24. — ^Walked with George over Primrose Diary, isei.
Hill. We talked of Plato and Aristotle.

Jtdy 26. — In the evening went to see Fechter as
Hamlet, and sat next to Mrs Carlyle.

July 30. — Kead little this morning — ^my mind
dwelling with much depression on the probability
or improbability of my achieving the work I wish
to do. I struck out two or three thoughts towards
an English novel. I am much aflBicted with hope-
lessness and melancholy just now, and yet I feel
the value of my blessings.

Thomie, our second boy, is at home from Edin- Letter to

, Miss Sam

burgh for his holidays, and I am apt to give more Henneu,

_. _ - . 30th July

thought than is necessary to any uttle change in isei.
our routine. We had a treat the other night which
I wished you could have shared with us. We saw
Pechter in " Hamlet." His conception of the part
is very nearly that indicated by the critical observa-
tions in ' WUhelm Meister/ and the result is deeply

312 Enjoyment of the Bible, [16 blandford SQ.,
Letter to interesting — ^the naturalness and sensibility of the

Miss Sara

Henneii, Wescfifi Overcoming in most cases the defective in-

80th July .AT 1 . . . . n

1861. tonation. And even the mtonation is occasionally

admirable — ^for example, "And for my soul, what
can he do to that ? " &c., is given by Fechter with
perfect simplicity, whereas the herd of English
actors imagine themselves in a pulpit when they
are saying it. Apropos of the pulpit, I had another
failure in my search for edification last Sunday.
Mme. Bodichon and I went to Little Portland
Street Chapel, and lo ! instead of James Martineau
there was a respectable old Unitarian gentleman
preaching about the dangers of ignorance and the
satisfaction of a good conscience, in a tone of ami-
able propriety which seemed to belong to a period
when brains were untroubled by difficulties, and
the lacteals of all good Christians were in perfect
order. I enjoyed the fine selection of Collects he
read from the Liturgy. What an age of earnest
faith, grasping a noble conception of life and deter-
mined to bring all things into harmony with it,
has recorded itself in the simple, pregnant, rhyth-
mical English of those Collects and of the Bible !
The contrast when the good man got into the pulpit
and began to pray in a borrowed, washy lingo — ex-
tempore in more sense than one !

1861 .] Difficulty of Oonceivirig Others* TrovMes. 313

A.v{i. 1. — Struggling constantly with depression. Diary. i86i.

Amq. 2. — Bead Boccaccio's capital story of Fra
CipoUa — one of his few good stories — ^and the little
Hunchback in the 'Arabian Nights/ which is still
better.

Av{i. 10. — ^Walked with G. We talked of my
Italian novel In the evening, Mr Pigott and Mr
Bedford.

Aug. 12. — Got into a state of so much wretched-
ness in attempting to concentrate my thoughts on
the construction of my story, that I became desper-
ate, and suddenly burst my bonds, saying, I will
not think of writing!

That doctrine which we accept rather loftily as a Letter to

. . . . Miss Sara

commonplace when we are quite young — namely, Henneu,
that our happiness lies entirely within, in our own isei. ^
mental and bodily state which determines for us
the influence of everything outward — ^becomes a
daQy lesson to be learned, and learned with much
stimibling as we get older. And until we know our
friends' private thoughts and emotions, we hardly
know what to grieve or rejoice over for them.

Aug. 17. — ^Mr Pigott and Mr Bedford came, who Diary, isei.
gave us some music.

Aug. 20. — ^This morning I conceived the plot of
my novel with new distinctness.

vera.

314 Musical Evenings, [l6 blandford sq..

Diary, 1861. Aiig. 24. — ^Mi Pigott and Mr Bedford came, and
we had music. These have been placid, ineffective
days — ^my mind being clouded and depressed.

Aug, 26. — ^Went with Barbara to her school, and
spent the afternoon there.

Aug, 31. — In the evening came Mr Pigott and
Mr Bedford, and we had some music.

Letter to Your letter was a great delight to us, as usual;

Lewes, 11th and the cheque, too, was welcome to people under

from Mai-' hydropathic treatment, which appears to stimulate
waste of coin as well as of tissue. Altogether we
are figures in keeping with the landscape when it is
well damped or "packed" under the early mist.

We thought rather contemptuously of the hDls
on our arrival; like travelled people, we hinted at
the Alps and Apennines, and smiled with pity at
our long-past selves that had felt quite a thrill at
the first sight of them. But now we have tired
our limbs by walking round their huge shoulders,
we begin to think of them with more respect. We
simply looked at them at first ; we feel their pres-
ence now, and creep about them with due humility
— whereby, you perceive, there hangs a moral. I
do wish you could have shared for a little while
with us the sight of this place. I fear you have
never seen England imder so loveable an aspect.

1861.] Trip to Malvern. 315

On the south-eastern side, where the great green Letter to

Charles L.

hills have their longest slope, Malvern stands well Lewes, nth
nestled in fine trees — chiefly " sounding sycamores," from Mai*
— ^and beyond there stretches to the horizon, which
is marked by a low, faint line of hill, a vast level
expanse of grass and com fields, with hedgerows
everywhere plumed with trees, and here and there
a rolling mass of wood: it is one of the happiest
scenes the eyes can look on — freundlichy according
to the pretty German phrase. On the opposite side
of this main range of hills, there is a more undu-
lated and more thickly wooded country which has
the sunset all to itself, and is bright with depart-
ing lights when our Malvern side is in cold evening
shadow. We are so fortunate as to look out over
the wide south-eastern valley from our sitting-room
window.

Our landlady is a quaint old personage, with a
strong Cheshire accent. She is, as she tells us, a
sharp old woman, and " can see most things pretty
quick;" and she is kind enough to communicate
her wisdom very freely to us less crisply -baked
mortals.

Sept. 11. — ^Yesterday we returned from Malvern Diary, isei.
(having gone there on 4th). During our stay I read
Mrs Jameson's book on the ' Legends of the Mon-

316 Need of AssemMing. [16 blandford SQ.,

Diary, 1861. ostic Oiders/ conected the 1st vol. of * Adam Bede '
for the new edition, and began Marchese's 'Storia
di San Marco.'

Letter to I enter into your and Cara's furniture adjusting

Miss Sara

Henneii, labours and your enjoyment of church and chapel

18th Sept.

1861. afterwards. One wants a temple besides the out-

door temple — a place where human beings do not
ramble apart, but meet with a common impulse.
I hope you have some agreeable lens through which
you can look at circumstances — good health, at
least. And really I begin to think people who
are robust are in a position to pity all the rest
of the world— except, indeed, that there are certain
secrets taught only by pain, which are, perhaps,
worth the purchase.

Diary. 1861. S^t 23. — I havc bccu unwcU ever since we
returned from Malvern, and have been disturbed
from various causes in my work, so that I have
scarcely done anything except correct my own
books for a new edition. To-day I am much
better, and hope to begin a more effective life
to-morrow.

Sept 28. — In the evening Mr Spencer, Mr Pigott,
and Mr Bedford came. We talked with Mr Spencer
about his chapter on the Direction of Force — ».«.,
line of least resistance.

1861.] New Grand Piano. 317

Sept 29 (Sunday). — ^Finished correcting * Silas DUuy.isei
Mamer.' I have thus corrected all my books for
a new and cheaper edition, and feel my mind free
for other work. Walked to the Zoo with the
boys.

Oct, 3. — ^To-day our new grand piano came — a
great addition to our pleasures.

Oct 4. — ^My mind still worried about my plot —
and without any confidence in my ability to do what
I want.

Oct 5. — In the evening Mr Eedford and Mr
Spencer came, and we had much music.

We are enjoying a great pleasure — a new grand Letter to

, , . , -. T» 1 Miss Sara

piano, — and last evemng we had a Beethoven nenneu, oth

night. We are looking out for a violinist : we have

our violincello, who is full of sensibility, but with

no negative in him — t.e., no obstinate sense of time

— ^a man who is all assent and perpetual raHerUando.

We can enjoy the pleasure the more, because Mr

Lewes's health is promising.

Oct 7. — Began the first chapter of my novel Diary, isei.
(Romola).

Oct 9.— Eead Nerli.

Oct 11. — ^Nardi's 'History of Florence.' In the
afternoon walked with Barbara, and talked with
her from lunch till dinner-time.

318 Long Walks. [l6 blandford sq.,

Diary, 1861. Oct. 12. — In the evening we had our usual Satur-
day mixture of visitors, talk, and music : an agree-
able addition being Dr M'Donnell of Dublin.

Oct. 14. — ^Went with Barbara to her school to
hear the children sing.

Oct. 18. — ^Walked with G. and Mr Spencer to
Hampstead, and continued walking for more than
five hours. In the evening we had music. Mrs
Bodichon and Miss Parkes were our additional
visitors.

Letter to I am rather jealous of the friends who get so

Mrs Con-

greve, 23d much of jTou — especially when they are so umneri-
torious as to be evangelical and spoil your rest.
But I will not grumble. I am in the happiest,
most contented mood, and have only good news
to tell you. I have hardly any trouble nearer to
me than the American War and the prospects of
poor cotton weavers. Wliile you were shivering
at Boulogne, we were walking fast to avoid shiver-
ing at Malvern, and looking slightly blue after our
sitz baths. Nevertheless that discipline answered
admirably, and Mr Lewes's health has been steadily
improving since our Malvern expedition. As for
me, imagine what I must be to have walked for
five hours the other day ! Or, better stUl, imagine
me always cheerful, and infer the altered condition

Oct 18«1.

1861.] Improved Hecdth from Malvern, 319

of my mucous membrane. The difference must be Letter to
there ; for it is not in my moral sentiments or m my greve, 28d
circumstances, — unless, indeed, a new grand piano,
which tempts me to play more than I have done
for years before, may be reckoned an item import-
ant enough to have contributed to the change.
We talk of you very often, and the image of you
is awakened in my mind still oftener. You are
associated by many subtle, indescribable ties with
some of my most precious and most silent thoughts.
I am so glad you have the comfort of feeling that
Mr Congreve is prepared for his work again. I
am hoping to hear, when we see you, that the
work will be less and less fagging, now the in-
troductory years are past.

Charley is going to Switzerland for his holiday
next month. We shall enjoy our dual solitude;
yet the dear boy is more and more precious to us
from the singular rectitude and tenderness of his
nature. Make signs to us as often as you can.
You know how entirely Mr Lewes shares my
delight in seeing you and hearing from you.

Oct 28 arid 30. — ^Not very welL Utterly de- Diary, isei.
sponding about my book.

Oct 31. — Still with an incapable head — ^trying to
write, trying to construct, and unable.

320 The Years rush hy. [16 blandford sq.,

Diary, 1861 Nov, 6. — So Utterly dejected, that m walking with
G. in the Park, I ahnost resolved to give up my
Italian novel.

Nov, 10 (Sunday). — ^New sense of things to be
done in my novel, and more brightness in my
thoughts. Yesterday I was occupied with ideas
about my next English novel; but this morning
the Italian scenes returned upon me with fresh
attraction. In the evening read 'MonteiL' A
marvellous book ; crammed with erudition, yet not
dull or tiresome.

Nov, 14. — ^Went to the British Museum reading-
room for the first time — ^looking over costumes.

Nov, 20. — Mrs Congreve, Miss Bury, and Mr
Spencer to lunch.

Letter to Your loviug words of remembrance find a very

Henneu, full auswcr in my heart — fuller than I can write.

1861. The years seem to rush by now, and I think of

death as a fast approaching end of a journey —
double and treble reason for loving as well as
working while it is day. We went to see Fechter's
Othello the other night. It is lamentably bad. He
has not weight and passion enough for deep tragedy ;
and, to my feeling, the play is so degraded by his
representation, that it is positively demoralising —
as, indeed, all tragedy must be when it fails to

1861.] VisUfrom Mrs Congreve. 321

move pity and terror. In this case it seems to Letter to

Miss Sara

move only titters among the smart and vulgar Henneii,
people who always make the bulk of a theatre isei.
audience. We had a visit from our dear friend
Mrs Congreve on Wednesday — a very infrequent
pleasure now ; for between our own absences from
home and hers, and the fatigue of London journey-
ing, it is difficult for us to manage meetings. Mr
Congreve is, as usual, working hard in his medi-
cal studies — toiling backward and forward daily.
What courage and patience are wanted for every
life that aims to produce anything!
Nov. 30. — In the evening we had WilMe Collins, Jounmi,

1861

Mr Pigott, and Mr Spencer, and talked without any
music.

Dec. 3-7. — I continued very imwell until Satur-
day, when I felt a little better. In the evening Dr
Baetcke, Mr Pigott, and Mr Bedford.

Miss Marshall came to see us yesterday. That Letter to
is always a pleasure to me, not only from the sense Henneu, eth
I have of her goodness, but because she stirs so
many remembrances. The first time I saw her
was at Eufa's^ wedding; and don't you remem-
ber the evening we spent at Mrs Dobson's ? How
young we all were then — ^how old now ! She says

1 Mrs Charles Hennell (now Mrs CaU).
VOL. II. X

322 Mr Lewes on Aristotle. [16 blandford sq..
Letter to vou 8X6 all undei the impression that Mr Lewes is

MissSant

Henneu,6t]i Still verv ailing. Thank all good influences, it is

Dec 1861. Vr , ,

not so. He has been mending ever smce we went
to Malvern, and is enjoying life and work more
than he has done before for nearly a year. He has
long had it in his mind to write a history of science
— a great, great undertaking, which it is happiness
to both of us to contemplate as possible for him.
And now he is busy with Aristotle, and works with
all the zest that belongs to fresh ideas. Strangely
enough, after all the ages of writing about Aris-
totle, there exists no fair appreciation of his posi-
tion in natural science.

I am particularly grumbling and disagreeable to
myself just now, and I think no one bears physical
pain so ill as I do, or is so thoroughly upset by it
mentally.

Bulwer has behaved very nicely to me, and I
have a great respect for the energetic industry
with which he has made the most of his powers.
He has been writing diligently in very various
departments for more than thirty years, constantly
improving his position, and profiting by the lessons
of public opinion and of other writers.

I'm sorry you feel any degeneracy in Mr George
Dawson. There was something very winning about

1861.] Mr George Dawson. 323

him in old days, and even what was not winning, Letter to
but the reverse, affected me with a sort of kindly Henneu, eth
pity. With such a gift of tongue as he had, it was
inevitable that speech should outrun feeling and
experience, and I could well imagine that his
present self might look back on that self of 21-27
with a sort of disgust. It so often happens that
others are measuring us by our past self while
we are looking back on that self with a mixture
of disgust and sorrow. It would interest me a
good deal to know just how Mr Dawson preaches
now.

I am writing on my knees with my feet on the
fender, and in that attitude I always write very
small, — but I hope your sight is not teazed by
small writing.

Give my best love to Cara, and sympathy with
her in the pleasure of grasping an old friend by the
hand, and having long talks after the distance of
years. I know Mr Bray will enjoy this too — and
the new house will seem more like the old one for
this warming.

Dec. 8 (Sunday). — G. had a headache, so we journal,
walked out in the morning simshine. I told him
my conception of my story, and he expressed great
delight. Shall I ever be able to carry out my

324 StvdymgfoT 'Bomola.' [16 blandford sq..
Journal, ideas ? Flashes of hope are succeeded by long in-

1861.

tervals of dim distrust. Finished the 8th voL of
Lastri, and began the 9th chapter of Varchi, in
which he gives an accurate accoimt of Florence.

Bee. 12. — ^Finished writing my plot, of which I
must make several other draughts before I begin to
write my book.

Dec. 13. — Bead Poggiana. In the afternoon
walked to Molini's and brought back Savonarola's
'Dialogus de Veritate Prophetica/ and 'Compen-
dium Kevelationum/ for £4!

Dec. 14 — In the evening came Mr Huxley, Mr
Pigott, and Mr Bedford.

Dec. 17. — Studied the topography of Florence.
Letter to It was plcasant to have a greeting from you at

Taylor! sist this scasou wheu all signs of human kindness have
a double emphasis. As one gets older, epochs have
necessarily some sadness, even for those who have, as
I have, much family joy. The past, that one would
like to mend, spreads behind one so lengthily, and
the years of retrieval keep shrinking — the terrible
peav, de chagrin whose outline narrows and nar-
rows with our ebbing life.

I hardly know whether it would be agreeable to
you, or worth your while, ever to come to us on a
Saturday evening, when we are always at home to

Dec. 1861.

1861.] Boohs Read. 325

any friend who may be kind enough to come to ns.

It would be very pleasant to us if it were pleasant

to you.

During the latter half of 1861, I find the
following amongst the books read: 'Histoire
des Ordres Eeligieux/ Sacchetti's * Novelle/ Sis-
mondi's * History of the Italian Eepublics/ * Os-
servatore Fiorentino/ Tennemann's ' History of
Philosophy/ T. A. Trollope's 'Beata/ Sismondi's
*Le Moyen Age Illustr^/ *The Monks of the
West/ ' Introduction to Savonarola's Poems/ by
Audin de E^ans, Eenan's *!fitudes d'Histoire
Eeligieuse/ Virgil's * Eclogues/ Buhle's * History
of Modem Philosophy/ Hallam on the Study
of Eoman Law in the Middle Ages, Gibbon on
the Eevival of Greek Learning, Nardi, Bulwer's
'Eienzi/ Burlamacchi's 'life of Savonarola,'
Pulci, Villari's ' life of Savonarola,' Mrs Jame-
son's * Sacred and Legendary Art,' ' Hymni and
Epigrammati ' of Marullus, Politian's ' Epistles,'
Marchese's Works, Tiraboschi, Eock's *Hier-
urgia,' Pettigrew 'On Medical Superstition,'
Manni's 'life of Burchiello,' Machiavelli's
Works, Ginguen^, Muratori * On Proper Names,'
Cicero *De OfBciis,' Petrarch's Letters, Craik's
* History of English literature,' *Conti Cami-

.J

326 Books Read. [i860.

valeschi/ Letters of Filelfo, Lastri and Varchi,
Heeren on the Fifteenth Century.

SUMMARY.

JULY 1860 TO DECEMBER 1861.

Return from Italy to Wandsworth, accompanied by Charles
Lewes — *Mill on the Floss' success — 6000 sold — Letter to
Jolin Blackwood — French translation of 'Adam Bede,' by
M. d' Albert of Geneva — Letter to Miss Hennell on her

* Thoughts in Aid of Faith ' — Letter to John Blackwood on
Sir Edward Lytton's criticism of * The Mill on the FIcmbs'—
Letter to Mrs Bray, recalling feelings on journey to Italy in
1849 — Letter to Miss Sara Hennell— Article on Strikes, by
Henry Fawcett, in * Westminster' — Sitting to Lawrence for
portrait — Letter to Madame Bodichon — Interest in her
schools — Letter to Miss Hennell, explaining criticism of

* Thoughts in aid of Faith ' — Reading Emerson's * Man the
Reformer' — Deprecates writing about opinions on large
questions in letters — Letter to John Blackwood — Italian
novel project — Letter to Madame Bodichon — Love of the
country — Removal to 10 Harewood Square — * Brother Jacob *
written — Letter to Mrs Congreve — Frederic Harrison's article
in * Westminster ' on " Essays and Reviews " — Letter to John
Blackwood — Religious party standpoint — Classical quotations
— Letter to Miss Hennell on re-reading * Thoughts in Aid of
Faith' — Tribute to Mr Lewes's dispassionate judgment-
Suffering from loss of the country — Independence secured —
Anthony Trollope and Arthur Helps — Queen's admiration

1861.] Summary of ChAtpter XL 327

of *Mill on the Floss '—Writing * Silas Marner/ a sudden
inspiration — Letter to Mrs Congreve — Monday Popular Con-
certs — Moved to 16 Blandford Square — ^Waste of time in
fomisliing — Letter to Madame Bodichon — On religious forms
and ceremonies — Herbert Spencer's new work, the best
thing he has done— Letter to John Blackwood— * Silas Mar-
ner ' — Letters to Mrs Congreve — Zoological Gardens — Visit
to Dorking— Letter to John Blackwood— Scott— Letters to
Miss Hennell — Private correspondence — Letter to Mrs Con-
greve — ^Arthur Clough's death— Letter to John Blackwood—

* Silas Mamer' — Books belong to successive mental phases —

* Silas Mamer ' finished— Visit to Hastings— Letter to Charles
Bray — ^Marriage of Mr WiUiam Smith— Letter to John
Blackwood — Subscription to * Silas Mamer' 3300^— Article
in * Macmillan ' on * The Mill '—Letter to Mrs Peter Taylor
— Position— Letter to John Blackwood — Total Subscription
to 'Silas Mamer' 5500— Criticism on *The Mill'— Letter
to Mrs P. Taylor — Never pays visits — Letter to Miss Hennell
— Hearing Beethoven and Mendelssohn music — Start on
second journey to Italy — Letter to Charles Lewes, describing
drive from Toulon to Nice — Arrival at Florence — Letter to
John Blackwood — No painting of misers with paper money
— Letter to Charles Lewes — ^Feels hopeful about future work
— Letter to John Blackwood — Italian novel simmering —
Letter to Charles Lewes — ^Beatrice Trollope — Expedition to
Camaldoli and La Vemia with Mr T. A.. Trollope — Return
home by Lago Maggiore and St Gothard — Dinner at Green-
wich with John Blackwood, Colonel Hamley, &c. — Reflec-
tions on waste of youth — Letters to Miss Hennell describing
La Vemia — Improvement in general philosophic attitude —
Articles on Study of History in the *Comhill' — Positivism
one-sided — Admiration of Comte — Letter to Miss Hennell —
Fechter in " Hamlet "—The Liturgy of the English Church
— Depression — Musical Evenings with Mr Pigott and Mr

328 SumTnary of Chapter XL [1860-61.

Bedford — Trip to Malvern — Letter to Miss Hennell — New
grand piano— Began *Bomola* — Saturday visitors — Letter
to Mrs Congreve — Better spirits — Benewed depression —
Letter to Miss Hennell — Time flying — Fechter as Othello
— Letter to Miss HenneU — Lewes busy with Aristotle —
Bulwer — George Dawson — Beading towards 'Bomola' —
Letter to Mrs Peter Taylor on the Past — Books read.

I

329

CHAPTEE XII.

January 1. — ^Mr Blackwood sent me a note enclos- Joumai,

1862.

ing a letter from Montalembert about ' Silas Mar-
ner.* / iegan again my novel of 'Bomola'

It is not unlikely that our thoughts and wishes Letter to

Mrs Con-
met about New Year's day, for I was only pre- greve,7th

Jan. 1862.

vented from writing to you in that week by the fear
of saying decidedly that we could not go to you, and
yet finding afterwards that a clear sky, happening
to coincide with an absence of other hindrances,
would have made that pleasure possible for us. I
think we believe in each other's thorough affection,
and need not dread misimderstanding. But you
must not write again, as you did in one note, a sort
of apology for coming to us when you were tired,
as if we didn't like to see you anyhow and at any
time! And we especially like to think that our
house can be a rest to you.
For the first winter in my life I am hardly ever

330 Affection for Mrs Congreoe. [16 blandford sq..
Letter to free from cold. As soon as one has departed with

!Mr8 Ck>n-

greve, 7th the usual final stage of stufiSness, another presents

Jan. 1862. .,-.,, ,. ,.

itself With the usual introduction of sore throat.
And Mr Lewes just now is a little ailing. But we
have nothing serious to complain of.

You seemed to me so bright and brave the last
time I saw you, that I have had cheerful thoughts
of you ever since. Write to me always when any-
thing happens to you, either pleasant or sad, that
there is no reason for my not knowing, so that we
may not spend long weeks in wondering how all
things are with you.

And do come to us whenever you can, without

caring about my going to you, for this is too diflftcult

for me in chill and doubtful weather. Are you not

looking anxiously for the news from America ?

Letter to As for the brain beins useless after fifty, that is

Mrs Bray,

13th Jan. no general rule: witness the good and hard work

1862.

that has been done in plenty after that age. I wish
I could be inspired with just the knowledge that
would enable me to be of some good to you. I feel
so ignorant and helpless. The year is opening
happily for us, except — alas! the exception is a
great one — ^in the way of health. Mr Lewes is
constantly ailing, like a delicate headachy woman.
But we have abundant blessings.

1862.] Max Milller—'The Trollopes. 331

I hope you axe able to enjoy Max Mliller's great Letter to

Miss Sara

and delightful book during your imprisonment. It Henneu,

14th Jan.

tempts me away from other things. I have read i862.
most of the numbers of ' Orley Farm/ and admire
it very much, with the exception of such parts as I
have read about Moulder & Co. Anthony Trollope
is admirable in the presentation of even average
life and character, and he is so thoroughly whole-
some-minded that one delights in seeing his books
lie about to be read. Have you read ' Beata ' yet —
the first novel written by his brother at Florence,
who is our especial favourite? Do read it when
you can, if the opportunity has not already come.
I am going to be taken to a pantomime in the day-
time, like a good child, for a Christmas treat, not
having had my fair share of pantomime in the world.
Jan, 18 (Saturday). — ^We had an agreeable even- Joumai,

1862.

ing. Mr Burton^ and Mr Clark* of Cambridge made
an acceptable variety in our party.

Jan. 19-20. — Head very bad — ^producing terrible
depression.

1 Now Sir Frederic Burton, Director of the National GaUery, to
whom we are indebted for the drawing of Gleorge Eliot now in the
National Portrait Gkdlery, South Kensington, and who was a very
intimate and valued Mend of Mr and Mrs Lewes.

2 Mr W. G. Clark, late Public Orator at Cambridge, well known as
a scholar, and for his edition of Shakespeare in conjunction with Mr
Aldis Wright

332 Mr G. Smith and 'Bomolcu* [16 blandford sq.,
Journal, Jan. 23. — ^Wrote again, feeling in brighter spirits.

1802.

Mr Smith the publisher called and had an inter-
view with G. He asked if I were open to " a mag-
nificent offer." This made me think about money
— ^but it is better for me not to be rich.

Jan. 26 (Simday). — ^Detained from writing by the
necessity of gathering particulars: 1st, about Lor-
enzo de Medici's death ; 2d, about the possible re-
tardation of Easter ; 3d, about Corpus Christi day;
4th, about Savonarola's preaching in the Quaresima
of 1492. Finished ' La Mandragola * — second time
reading for the sake of Florentine expressions — ^and
began ' La Calandra.'

Jan. 31. — Have been reading some entries in
my note-book of past times in which I recorded my
malaise and despair. But it is impossible to me to
believe that I have ever been in so unpromising
and despairing a state as I now feel. After writing
these words I read to G. the Proem and opening
scene of my novel, and he expressed great delight
in them.
Letter to I was taken to see my pantomime. How pretty

Miss Sara

Hennell, 3d

Feb. 1862.

Henneu, 8d it is to scc the theatre full of children ! Ah, what

I should have felt in my real child days to have
been let into the further history of Mother Hub-
bard and her Dog!

1862.] Writing and Music. 333

Greorge Stephenson is one of my great heroes:
has he not a dear old face?

I think yours is the instinct of all delicate Letter to

Mw Peter

natures — not to speak to authors about their writ- Taylor, sd

Feb. 1862.

ings. It is better for us all to hear as little about
ourselves as possible ; to do our work faithfully, and
be satisfied with the certainty that if it touches
many minds, it cannot touch them in a way quite
aloof from our intention and hope.

Feb. 7. — ^A week of February already gone! I joutmi,

1862.

have been obliged to be very moderate in work
from feebleness of head and body ; but I have re-
written, with additions, the first chapter of my book.

I am wondering whether you could spare me, for Letter to

Mrs Bray,

a few weeks, the " Tempest " music, and any other sth Feb.

1862.

vocal music of that or of a kindred species ? I don't
want to buy it until our singers have experimented
upon it. Don't think of sending me anything that
you are using at all, but if said music be lying idle,
I should be grateful for the loan. We have several
operas — " Don Giovanni," " Figaro," the " Barbiere,"
" Flauto Magico," and also the music of "Macbeth;"
but I think that is all our stock of concerted vocal
music.
-Pei. 11. — ^We set off to Dorking. The day was Jounua,

1862.

lovely, and we walked through Mr Hope's park to

334 Impatience of Concealment [16 bl^ndfobd SQ.,
Journal, Betchworth. In the evening I read aloud Sybel's

1862.

'Lectures on the Crusades/

Feb. 12. — The day was grey, but the air -was
fresh and pleasant. We walked to "Wootton Park —
Evelyn's Wootton, — ^lunched at a little roadside inn
there, and returned to Dorking to dine. During stay
at Dorking finished the first twelve cantos of Pulci

Feb. 13. — ^Returned home.
Letter to J think it is a reasonable law that the one who

Madame

Bodichon, takcs wiug should be the first to write — ^not the bird

15th Feb.

1862. that stays in the old cage, and may be supposed to be

eating the usual seed and groundsel, and looking at
the same slice of the world through the same wires.
I think the highest and best thing is rather to
suffer with real suffering than to be happy in the
imagination of an unreal good. I would rather
know that the beings I love are in some trouble,
and suffer because of it, even though I can't help
them, than be fancying them happy when they are
not so, and making myself comfortable on the
strength of that false belief. And so I am impa-
tient of all ignorance and concealment. I don't
say "that is wise," but simply "that is my nature."
I can enter into what you have felt, for serious ill-
ness, such as seems to bring death near, makes one
feel the simple human brother- and sister-hood so

LM" 1862.] The War in America. 335

c: strongly, that those we were apt to think almost Letter to

Madame

indifferent to us before, touch the very quick of our BocUchon,
e : hearts. I suppose if we happened only to hold the 1862.
: hand of a hospital patient when she was dying,
i her face, and all the memories along with it, would
:: seem to lie deeper in our experience than all we
knew of many old friends and blood relations.

We have had no troubles but the public troubles
— anxiety about the war with America, and sym-
pathy with the poor Queen. My best consolation
is that an example on so tremendous a scale (as the
war) of the need for the education of mankind
through the affections and sentiments, as a basis for
true development, will have a strong influence on
all thinkers, and be a check to the arid narrow
antagonism which, in some quarters, is held to be
the only form of liberal thought.

George has fairly begun what we have long con-
templated as a happiness for him — a History of
Science, and has written so thorough an analysis
and investigation of Aristotle's Natural Science,
that he feels it will make an epoch for the men
I who are interested at once in the progress of
modem science and in the question how far Aris-
totle went both in the observation of facts and in
their theoretic combination — a question never yet

336 Depression in Writing. [16 blandford sq.,
Letter to cleaxed up after all these ages. This work makes

1862.

Bodichon, him " Very jolly," but his dear face looks very pale

15th Feb.

1862. and narrow. Those only can thoroughly feel the

meaning of death who know what is perfect love.

God bless you — ^that is not a false word, however
many false ideas may have been hidden under it.
No, — not false ideas, but temporary ones — cater-
pillars and chrysalids of future ideas.

joumia, Feb. 17. — I have written only the two first chap-

ters of my novel besides the Proem, and I have
an oppressive sense of the far-stretching task before
me, health being feeble just now. I have lately
read again with great delight Mrs Browning's " Casa
Guidi Windows." It contains, amongst other ad-
mirable things, a very noble expression of what I
believe to be the true relation of the religious mind
to the past.

Feb. 26. — I have been very ailing all this last
week, and have worked under impeding discourage-
ment. I have a distrust in myself, in my work, in
others' loving acceptance of it, which robs my other-
wise happy life of all joy. I ask myself, without
being able to answer, whether I have ever before
felt so chilled and oppressed. I have written now
about sixty pages of my romance. Will it ever be
finished ? Ever be worth anything ?

1862.] Proposition for 'JRomola,* 337

Feb. 27. — George Smith, the publisher, brought Joumai,

1862.

the proof of G.'s book, ' Animal Studies,' and laid
before him a proposition to give me £10,000 for my
new novel — i.e,, for its appearance in the ' Comhill,'
and the entire copyright at home and abroad.

March 1. — The idea of my novel appearing in the
' Comhill ' is given up, as G. Smith wishes to have
it commenced in May, and I cannot consent to
begin publication until I have seen nearly to the
end of the work.

We had agreeable weather until yesterday, which Letter to

Charles L.

was wet and blustering, so that we could only Lewes, loth

March 1862,

snatch two short walks. Pater is better, I think ; trom Engie-
and I, as usual, am impudently flourishing in coun-
try air and idleness. On Friday Mr Bone, our
landlord, drove us out in his pony carriage, to see
the "meet" of the stag-hoimds, and on Saturday
ditto to see the fox-hunters; so you perceive we
have been leading rather a grand life.

March 11. — On Wednesday last, the 5th, G. and I jounua,

1862,

set off to Englefield Green, where we have spent a
delightful week at the Barley Mow Inn. I have fin-
ished Pulci there, and read aloud the ' Ch&teau d'If.'

We returned from our flight into the country yes- Letter to

- . _ . _ . . , , Miss Sara

terday, not without a sigh at parting with the pure Henneii,
air and the notes of the blackbirds for the usual 1862.
VOL. II. Y

338 George PecxhodT/s Gift. [16 BLANDFORD

Journal,
1862.

Letter to
Miss Sara
Hennell,
27th March

Journal,
1862.

canopy of smoke and the sound of cab wheels. I
am not going out again, and our life will have its
old routine — ^lunch at half -past one, walk till four,
dinner at iBve.

March 24. — ^After enjoying our week at Egham, 1
returned to protracted headache. Last Saturday
we received as usual, and our party was joined by
Mr and Mrs Noel. I have begun the fourth chapter
of my novel, but have been working under a weight.

I congratulate you on being out of London, which
is more like a pandemonium than usual. The fog
and rain have been the more oppressive because I
have seen them through Mr Lewes's almost constant
discomfort. I think he has had at least five days
of sick headache since you saw him. But then he
is better tempered and more cheerful with headache
than most people are without it ; and in that way
he lightens his burthen. Have you noticed in the
* Times ' Mr Peabody's magnificent deed ?— -the gift
of £150,000 for the amelioration (body and soul, I
suppose) of the poorer classes in London. That is a
pleasant association to have with an American name.

April 1. — Much headache this last week.

April 2. — Better this morning ; writing with en-
joyment. At the seventy-seventh page. Eead Juv-
enal this morning and Nisard.

1862.] 'Romola ' in the* ComhUi: 339

April 16. — ^As I had been ailing for a fortnight Joumai,

1862.

or more, we resolved to go to Dorking, and set oflf
to-day.

May 6. — ^We returned from Dorking after a stay
of three weeks, during which we have had delicious
weather.

Our life is the old accustomed duet this month. Letter to

Mrs Bray,

We enjoy an interval of our double solitude. Mayi862.
Doesn't the spring look lovelier every year to eyes
that want more and more light? It was rather
saddening to leave the larks and all the fresh leaves
to come back to the rolling of cabs and "the
blacks;" but in compensation we have all our
conveniences about us.
May 23. — Since I wrote last, very important deci- Journal,

1862.

sions have been made. I am to publish my novel
of 'Eomola' in the 'Cornhill Magazine' for £7000,
paid in twelve monthly payments. There ha<s been
the regret of leaving Blackwood, who has written
me a letter in the most perfect spirit of gentleman-
liness and good feeling.

May 27. — Mr Helps, Mr Burton, and Mr T. A.
Trollope dined with us.

May 31. — ^Finished the second part, extending to
page 183.

June 30. — I have at present written only the

340 Work not Progressing. [16 BLANDFORD SQ.,

jomnai, scene between Eomola and her brother in San

1862.

Marco towards Part IV. This morning I had a
delightful generous letter from Mr Anthony Trol-
lope about 'Eomola/

JtUy 6. — The past week has been unfruitful from
various causes. The consequence is, that I am no
further on in my MS., and have lost the excellent
start my early completion of the third part had
given me.

JtUy 10. — ^A dreadful palsy has beset me for the
last few days. I have scarcely made any progress.
Yet I have been very well in body. I have been
reading a book often referred to by Hallam —
Meiners's * lives of Mirandola and Politian.' They
are excellent. They have German industry, and are
succinctly and clearly written.
Letter to Imagine me — ^not fuming in imperfect resigna-

Miss Sara

Henneu, tiou uudcr Loudou smokc, but — with the wide sky

12th Sept. - _ , , - . .

1862, from of the coast above me, and every comfort positive

Little- . . _ 1 1 1.

hampton. and negative around me, even to the absence of
staring eyes and crinolines. Worthing was so full
that it rejected us, and, to our great good fortime,
sent us here. "We were plea<sed to hear that you had
seen Mr Spencer. We always feel him particularly
welcome when he come^ back to town ; there is no
one like him for talking to about certain things.

1862.] Trip to LUtlehampton. 341

You will come and dine or walk with us when-
ever you have nothing better to do in your visit
to town. I take that for granted. We lie, you
know, on the way "between the Exhibition and Mr
Noel's.

Sept 23. — Ketumed from our stay in the country, joBmai,

1862.

first at the Beach Hotel, littlehampton, and for the
last three days at Dorking.

Sept. 26.— At page 62, Part VI. Yesterday a
letter came from Mr T. A. Trollope, full of en-
couragement for me. Ehertezer.

Oct. 2. — ^At page 85. Scene between Tito and
Romola.

Welcome to your letter, and welcome to the hope Letter to
of seemg you again! I have an engagement on greve,2d
Monday from lunch till dinner. Apart from that,
I know of nothing that will take us farther than
for our daily walk, which, you know, begins at two.
But we will alter the order of any day for the sake
of seeing you. Mr Lewes's absence of a fortnight
at Spa was a great success. He has been quite
brilKant ever since. Ten days ago we returned
from a stay of three weeks in the country — chiefly
at Littlehampton — and we are both very well.
Everything is prosperous with us ; and we are so
far from griefs, that if we had a wonderful emerald

342 Monday Popular Concerts. [16 blandford SQ.,

ring, we should perhaps be wise to throw it away
as a propitiation of the envious gods.

So much in immediate reply to your kind anxiety.
Everything else when we meet.
Journal, Oct 31. — ^Finished Part VII., having determined

1862.

to end at the point where Romola has left Florence.

Nov. 14. — Finished reading ' Boccaccio ' through
for the second time.

Nov. 17.— Eead the ' Orfeo ' and ' Stanze ' of Poli-
ziano. The latter are wonderfully fine for a youth
of sixteen. They contain a description of a Palace
of Venus, which seems the suggestion of Tennyson's
Palace of Art in many points.
Letter to I wish I knew that this birthday has found you

Miss Sara

Henndi, happier than any that went before. There are so

26th Nov.

1862. many things — best things — ^that only come when

youth is past, that it may well happen to many of
us to find ourselves happier and happier to the last.
We have been to a Monday Pop. this week to
hear Beethoven's Septett, and an amazing thing of
Bach's, played by the amazing Joachim. But there
is too much " Pop." for the thorough enjoyment of
the chamber music they give. You will be inter-
ested to know that there is a new muster of
scientific and philosophic men lately established,
for the sake of bringing people who care to know

1862.] Philosophical Club. 343

and speak the truth, as well as they can, into Letter to

Miss Sara

regular communication. Mr Lewes was at the first Henneu,

26th Nov.

meeting at Climn's Hotel on Friday la<st. The plan i862.
is to meet and dine moderately and cheaply, and no
one is to be admitted who is not " thorough " in the
sense of being free from the suspicion of temporising
and professing opinions on official grounds. The
plan was started at Cambridge. Mr Huxley is
president, and Charles Kingsley is vice. If they
are sufficiently rigid about admissions, the club may
come to good — bringing together men who think
variously, but have more hearty feelings in common
than they give each other credit for. Mr Eobert
Chambers (who lives in London now) is very warm
about the matter. Mr Spencer, too, is a member.
Pray don't ever ask me again not to rob a man Letter to

. . Madame

of his religious belief, as if you thought my mind Bodichon,

26th Nov.

tended to such robbery. I have too profoimd a i862.
conviction of the efficacy that lies in all sincere
faith, and the spiritual blight that comes with no-
faith, to have any negative propagandism in me.
In fact, I have very little sympathy with Free-
thinkers 81S a class, and have lost all interest in
mere antagonism to reUgious doctrines. I care
only to know, if possible, the lasting meaning that
hes in all reUgious doctrine from the beginning till

344 First Visit from Brovming. [16 blandford sq.,
Letter to now. That speech of Caxlyle's/ which sounds so

Madame

Bodichon, odious, luust, I think, have been provoked by some-

26th Nov.

1862. thing in the manner of the statement to which it

came as an answer — else it would hurt me very
much that he should have uttered it.

You left a handkerchief at our house. I will
take c«ire of it till next summer. I look forward
with some longing to that time when I shall have
lightened my soul of one chief thing I wanted
to do, and be freer to think and feel about other
people's work. We shall see you oftener, I hope,
and have a great deal more talk than ever we have
had before to make amends for our stinted enjoy-
ment of you this summer.

Gk)d bless you, dear Barbara. You are very
precious to us.

Journal. Nov. 30 (Sunday).— Finished Part VIII. Mr

1862.

Burton came.

Dec. 16. — In the evening Browning paid us a
visit for the first time.

Dec. 17. — At p. 22 only. I am extremely spirit-
less, dead, and hopeless about my writing. The
long state of headache has left me in depression
and incapacity. The constantly heavy-clouded, and

1 Some general remark of Carlyle's — Madame Bodichon cannot re-
member exactly what it was.

1862.] Christmas Ojfering. 345

often wet, weather tends to increase the depression, joumai,

1862

I am inwardly irritable, and imvisited by good
thoughts. Eeading the 'Purgatorio' again, and
the 'Compendium Eevelationum ' of Savonarola.
After this record, I read aloud what I had written
of Part IX. to Gleorge, and he, to my surprise,
entirely approved of it.

Dec, 24. — ^Mrs F. Malleson brought me a beau-
tiful plant as a Christmas oflfering. In the evening
we went to hear the " Messiah " at Her Majesty's
Theatre.

I am very sensitive to words and looks and all Letter to

Mrs Peter

Signs of sympathy, so you may be sure that your Taylor. 24th
kind wishes are not lost upon me.

As you will have your house full, the wish for a
"Merry Christmas" may be literally fulfilled for
you. We shall be quieter, with none but our
family trio, but that is always a happy one. We
are going to usher in the day by hearing the
"Messiah" to-night at Her Majesty's.

Evening will be a pleasanter time for a little
genial talk than " calling hours ; " and if you will
come to us without ceremony, you will hardly run
the risk of not finding us. We go nowhere except
to concerts.

We are longing to run away from London, but I

346 ''Faith, Hope, Charity'' [16 blandford sq.,
Letter to daxesay we shall not do so before March. Winter

Mrs Peter

Taylor, 24th is probably yet to come, and one would not like to

Dec 1862. , , , « , .

be caught by frost and snow away from one s own
hearth.

Always believe, without my saying it, that it
gladdens me to know when anything I do has
value for you.
Letter to It is vcry sweet to me to have any proof of

Miss Sara

Hcnneii, loving remembrance. That would have made the

26th Dec

1862. book-marker precious even if it had been ugly.

But it is perfectly beautiful — ^in colour, words, and
symbols. Hitherto I have been discontented with
the Coventry book-marks ; for at the shop where we
habitually see them they have all got — "Let the
people praise Thee, God," on them, and nothing
else. But I can think of no motto better than
those three words. I suppose no wisdom the world
will ever find out will make Paul's words obsolete
— "Now abide," &c., "but the greatest of these is
Charity." Our Christmas, too, has been quiet. Mr
Lewes, who talks much less about goodness than I
do, but is always readier to do the right thing,
thinks it rather wicked for us to eat our turkey
and plum -pudding without asking some forlorn
person to eat it with us. But I*m afraid we were
glad, after all, to find ourselves alone with "the

1862.] Poetry of Christianity. 347

boy." On Christmas Eve a sweet woman, remem- Letter to

Miss Sara

bering me as you have done, left a beautiful plant Henneii,

26th Dec.

at the door, and after that we went to hear the 1862.
"Messiah" at Her Majesty's. We felt a consider-
able minus from the absence of the organ, contrary
to advertisement: nevertheless it was good to be
there. What pitiable people those are who feel no
poetry in Christianity ! Surely the acme of poetry
hitherto is the conception of the suflfering Messiah,
and the final triumph, "He shall reign for ever
and for ever." The Prometheus is a very im-
perfect foreshadowing of that symbol wrought out
in the long history of the Jewish and Christian

Mr Lewes and I have both been in miserable
health during all this month. I have had a fort-
night's incessant malaise and feebleness; but as I
had had many months of tolerable health, it was
my turn to be uncomfortable. If my book-marker
were just a little longer, I should keep it in my
beautiful Bible in large print, which Mr Lewes
bought for me in prevision for my old age. He is
not fond of reading the Bible himself, but " sees no
harm " in my reading it.

. Letter to

I am not quite sure what you mean by " charity the Brays,

. 29th Dec

when you call it humbug. If you mean that atti- 1862.

348

" Caritas" [16 blandford sq.,

Letter to
the Brays,
29th Dec
1862.

Journal
1862.

tude of mind which says, " I forgive my fellow-men
for not being as good as I am," I agree with you in
hoping that it will vanish, as also the circumstantial
form of almsgiving. But if you are alluding to
anything in my letter, I meant what charity meant
in the elder English, and what the translators of the
Bible meant in their rendering of the thirteenth
chapter of 1st Corinthians — Caritas, the highest
love or fellowship, which I am happy to believe that
no philosophy will expel from the world.

Dec. 31 (last day of the kind old year). — Clear
and pleasantly mild. Yesterday a pleasant mes-
sage from Mr Hannay about ' Eomola.' We have
had many blessings this year. Opportunities which
have enabled us to acquire an abundant independ-
ence ; the satisfactory progress of our two eldest
boys; various grounds of happiness in our work;
and ever-growing happiness in each other. I hope
with trembling that the coming year may be as
comforting a retrospect, — with trembling because
my work is not yet done. Besides the finishing of
Eomola,' we have to think of Thomie's passing his
final examination, and, in case of success, his going
out to India; of Bertie's leaving Hofwyl; and of
our finding a new residence. I have had more than
my average amoimt of comfortable health until this

1863.] Opinwmof'JSxymola' 349

last month, in which I have been constantly ailing,
and my work has suffered proportionately.

The letter with the one word in it, like a whisper Letter to

Miss Sara

of sympathy, lay on my plate when I went down Henneu,

1 . . mi 2d Feb.

to limch this mormng. The generous movement ises.
that made you send it has gladdened me all day.
I have had a great deal of pretty encouragement
from immense big -wigs — some of them saying
* Eomola ' is the finest book they ever read ; but the
opinion of big- wigs has one sort of value, and the
fellow-feeling of a long-known friend has another.
One can't do quite well without both. En reioarvche,
I am a feeble wretch, with eyes that threaten to get
bloodshot on the slightest provocation. We made
a rush to Dorking for a day or two, and the quiet
and fresh aif seemed to make a new creature of
me; but when we get back to town, town-sensa-
tions return.

That scheme of a sort of Philosophical Club that Letter to

Miss Sara

I told you of went to pieces before it was finished, Henneii, 9th
like a house of cards. So it will be to the end, I
fancy, with all attempts at combinations that are
not based either on material interests or on opinions
that are not merely opinions but religion. Doubt-
less you have been interested in the Colenso corre-
spondence, and perhaps in Miss Cobbe's rejoinder

350 Miss Cohbe and Mrs Stowe, [16 blandfokd SQ.,
Letter to to Mts Stowc's remonstrating answer to the women

Miss SftTft

Henneu, 9t]i of England. I was glad to see how free the answer
was from all tartness or conceit. Miss Cobbe's
introduction to the new edition of Theodore Parker
is also very honourable to her — a little too meta-
phorical here and there, but with real thought and
good feeling.

Letter to It is a comf ort to hear of you again, and to know

Mrs Con-

greye, 18th that there is no serious trouble to mar the spring

April 1863.

weather for you. I must carry that thought as my
consolation for not seeing you on Tuesday, — ^not
quite a suflBcient consolation, for my eyes desire
you very much after these long months of almost
total separation. The reason I cannot have that
pleasure on Tuesday is that, according to a long-
arranged plan, I am going on Monday to Dorking
again for a fortnight. I should be still more vexed
to miss you if I were in better condition, but at
present I am rather like a shell-less lobster, and
inclined to creep out of sight I shall write to
you, or try to see you, as soon as I can after my
return. I wish you could have told me of a more
decided return to ordinary health in Mr Congreve,
but I am inclined to hope that the lecturing may
rather benefit than injure him, by being a moral
tonic. How much there is for us to talk about!

1863.] Flight to Dorking. 351

But only to look at dear faces that one has seen Letter to
so little of for a long while, seems reason enough greve, isth
for wanting to meet. Mr Lewes is better than
usual just now, and you must not suppose that
there is anything worse the matter with me than
you have been used to seeing in me. Please give
my highest regards to Mr Congreve, and love to
Emily, who, I hope, has quite got back the roses
which had somewhat paled. My pen straggles as
if it had a stronger will than I.

Glad you enjoyed 'Esmond.' It is a fine book. Letter to

Chfirles L.

Since you have been interested in the historical Lewes. 28th
suggestions, I recommend you to read Thackeray's from
'Lectures on the English Humourists,' which are ' ^'
all about the men of the same period. There is a
more exaggerated estimate of Swift and Addison
than is implied in 'Esmond;' and the excessive
laudation of men who are considerably below the
tip-top of human nature, both in their lives and
genius, rather vitiates the Lectures, which are
otherwise admirable, and are delightful reading.

The wind is high and cold, making the sunshine
seem hard and unsympathetic.

May 6. — ^We have just returned from Dorking, joumai,
whither I went a fortnight ago to have solitude,
while George took his journey to Hofwyl to see

352 Strain of Writing 'JRoniola,' [16 blandford sq..
Journal, Bertie. The weather was severely cold for several

1863.

days of my stay, and I was often ailing. That
has been the way with me for a month and more,
and in consequence I am backward with my July
number of ' Eomola ' — ^the last part but one.

I remember my wife telling me, at Witley,
how cruelly she had suffered at Dorking from
working under a leaden weight at this time.
The writing of 'Eomola' ploughed into her
more than any of her other books. She told
me she could put her finger on it as marking
a well-defined transition in her life. In her
own words, "I began it a young woman, — I
finished it an old woman."
Letter to Ycs ! wc shall be in town in June. Your com-

Madame

Bodichon, ing would be reason good enough, but we have

12th May

1863. others^-chiefly, that we are up to the ears in boy-

dom and imperious parental duties. All is as
happy and prosperous with us as heart can law-
fully desire, except my health. I have been a
mere wretch for several months past. You will
come to me like the morning sunlight, and make
me a little less of a flaccid cabbage-plant.

It is a very pretty life you are leading at Hastings,
with your painting all morning, and fair mothers
and children to look at the rest of the day.

1863.] Intellectual SupercUioTisness. 353

I am terribly frightened about Mrs . She Letter to

. Madame

wrote to me telling me that we were sure to suit Bodichon,

12th May

each other, neither of us holding the opinions of the isea.
MbzUons de Panurge. Nothing could have been
more decisive of the opposite prospect to me. If
there is one attitude more odious to me than any
other of the many attitudes of " knowingness," it is
that air of lofty superiority to the vulgar. How-
ever, she will soon find out that I am a very com-
mon-place woman.

May 16. — Finished Part XIII. Killed Tito in Joumai,

1863.

great excitement.

May 18.— Began Part XIV.— the last ! . Yesterday
George saw Count Arrivabene, who wishes to trans-
late 'Eomola,* and says the Italians are indebted
to me.

Health seems, to those who want it, enough to Letter to

Mrs Bray,

make daylight a gladness. But the explanation of ist June

1863.

evils is never consoling except to the explainer.
We are just as we were, thinking about the ques-
tionable house (The Priory), and wondering what
would be the right thing to do; hardly liking to
lock up any money in land and bricks, and yet
frightened lest we should not get a quiet place just
when we want it. But I daresay we shall have it
after all.

VOL. II. z

354 ' Bomola* Jmished. [16 blandford sq.,

Journal, Juuc 6. — ^We had a little evening party with

music, intended bo celebrate the completion of
'Eomola/ which, however, is not absolutely com-
pleted, for I have still to alter the epilogue.

Jvme 9. — Put the last stroke to ' Eomola.' Eben-
ezer! Went in the evening to hear "La Grazza
Ladra."

The manuscript of *Eomola' bears the fol-
lowing inscription: —
" To the Husband whose perfect love has been the
best source of her insight and strength, this manu-
script is given by his devoted wife, the writer."
Letter to How impossible it is for strong healthy people to

Miss Sara

Henneii, Understand the way in which bodily malaise and

lOth June

1863. suffering eats at the root of one's life ! The phil-

osophy that is true — ^the religion that is strength
to the healthy — is constantly emptiness to one
when the head is distracted and every sensation is
oppressive.

f^*^' •'^^ ^^' — George and I set off to-day to the Isle

of Wight, where we had a delightful holiday. On
Friday, the 19th, we settled for a week at Niton,
which, I think, is the prettiest place in all the
island. On the following Friday we went on to
Freshwater, and failed, from threatening rain, in
an attempt to walk to Alum Bay, so that we rather

1863.

1863.] Trip to the Isle of Wight. 355

repented of our choice. The consolation was that joumai,

1868.

we shall know better than to go to Freshwater an-
other time. On the Saturday morning we drove to
Kyde, and remained there until Monday the 29th.

Your letter was a welcome addition to our sun- Letter to

Miss San

shine this Sabbath morning. For in this particu- Henneu,

21st June

lar we seem to have been more fortunate than i868,from

lit , . . Niton.

you, havmg had almost constant sunshine smce
we arrived at Sandown, on Tuesday evening.

This place is perfect, reminding me of Jersey, in
its combination of luxuriant greenth with the de-
lights of a sandy beach. At the end of our week,
if the weather is warmer, we shall go on to Fresh-
water for our remaining few days. But the wind
at present is a little colder than one desires it, when
the object is to get rid of a cough, and unless it gets
milder, we shall go back to Shanklin. I am enjoy-
ing the hedgerow grasses and flowers with something
like a released prisoner's feeling — ^it is so long since
I had a bit of real English country.

I am very happy in my holiday, finding quite a Letter to
fresh charm in the hedgerow grasses and flowers Lewes, 2i8t
after my long banishment from them. We have a from Niton.
flower-garden just roimd us, and then a sheltered
grassy walk, on which the sun shines through the
best part of the day ; and then a wide meadow, and

356

Theatre-going. [16 BLANDFORD SQ.,

Letter to
Charles L.
Lewes, 21st
June 1863,
from Niton.

Journal,
1863.

Letter to
Miss Sara
Hennell,
11th July
1863.

beyond that trees and the sea. Moreover, our land-
lady has cows, and we get the quintessence of
cream — excellent bread and butter also, and a
young lady, with a large crinoline, to wait upon us,
— all for 25s. per week ; or rather, we get the apart-
ment in which we enjoy those primitive and modem
blessings for that moderate sum.

July 4. — ^Went to see Eistori in " Adrienne Le-
couvreur," and did not like it. I have had hemi-
crania for several days, and have been almost idle
since my return home.

Constant languor from the new heat has made
me shirk all exertion not imperative. And just
now there are not only those excitements of the
season, which even we quiet people get our share
of, but there is an additional boy to be cared for
— Thomie, who is this week passing his momentous
examination.

A pretty thing has happened to an acquaintance
of mine, which is quite a tonic to one's hope.
She has all her life been working hard in various
ways, as housekeeper, governess, and several et
ceteras that I can't think of at this moment — a
dear little dot, about four feet eleven in height;
pleasant to look at, and clever ; a working woman,
without any of those epicene queemesses that be-

1863.] A Bomance in Real Life, 357

long to the class. Her life has been a history of Letter to
family troubles, and she has that susceptible Henneu,
nature which makes such troubles hard to bear. ises.
More than once she has told me that courage quite
forsook her. She felt as if there were no good in
living and striving: it was difl&cult to discern or
believe in any results for others, and there seemed
none worth having for herself. Well! a man of
fortune and accomplishments has just fallen in love
with her, now she is thirty-three. It is the prettiest
story of a swift decided passion, and made me cry
for joy. Mme. Bodichon and I went with her to
buy her wedding clothes. The future husband is
also thirty-three — old enough to make his selection
an honour. Fond of travelling and science and
other good things, such as a man deserves to be fond
of who chooses a poor woman in the teeth of grand
relatives : brought up a Unitarian just turned Cath-
olic. If you will only imagine everything I have
not said, you will think this a very chaxming fairy
tale.

We are going this evening to see the French act-
ress in " Juliet " (Stella Colas) who is astonishing the
town. Last week we saw Eistori, the other night
heard the " Faust," and next week we are going to
hear the " Elisir d'Amore " and " Faust " again ! So

358 Operatic Motives. [16 BLANDFORD SQ.,

Letter to you sce wc 8X6 trying to get some compensation for

Miss Sara _ . i*,.. i.i-i.

Henneu, the necessity of livmg among bncks m this sweet
1863. summer time. I can bear the opera better than

any other evening entertainment, because the house
is airy and the stalls are comfortable. The opera is
a great, great product — ^pity we can't always have
fine Weltgeschicktliche dramatic motives wedded
with fine music, instead of trivalities or hideous-
nesses. Perhaps this last is too strong a word for
anything except the "Traviata." Eigoletto is un-
pleasant, but it is a superlatively fine tragedy in
the Nemesis. I think I don't know a finer.

We are really going to buy The Priory after alL
You would think it very pretty if you saw it now,
with the roses blooming about it.
Joiunai. July 12. — I am now in the middle of G.'s * Aris-

totle,' which gives me great delight.

July 23. — Eeading Mommsen, and Story's * Eoba
di Eoma ; ' also Liddell's * Eome,' for a narrative to
accompany Mommsen's analysis.

July 29. — In the evening we went to Covent
Garden to hear " Faust " for the third time. On our
return we found a letter from Frederick Maurice —
the greatest, most generous tribute ever given to me
in my life.*

^ I regret that I have not been able to find this letter.

ises.

1863.] RenarCs * Vie de JSsus! 369

I have wanted for several days to make some Letter to

Mrs Peter

feeble sign in writing that I think of your trouble. Taylor, soth
But one claim after another has arisen as a hin-
drance. Conceive us, please, with three boys at
home, all bigger than their father ! It is a conges-
tion of youthfulness on our mature brains that dis-
turbs the course of our lives a httle, and makes
us think of most things as good to be deferred till
the boys are settled again. I tell you so much to
make you understand that " omission " is not with
me equivalent to " neglect," and that I do care for
what happens to you.

Eenan is a favourite with me. I feel more kin-
ship with his mind than with that of any other
living French author. But I think I shall not do
more than look through the Introduction to his * Vie
de J^sus ' — imless I happen to be more fascinated
by the constructive part than I expect to be from
the specimens I have seen. For minds acquainted
with the European culture of this last half-century,
Eenan's book can furnish no new result ; and they
are likely to set little store by the too facile con-
struction of a life from materials of which the bio-
graphical significance becomes more dubious as they
are more closely examined. It seems to me the soul
of Christianity lies not at all in the facts of an indi-

360 RenarCs * Vie de JSsus. [16 BLANDFORD SQ.,

Letter to vidual life, but in the ideas of which that life was

Mrs Peter . . i i . . -rrr

Tayior, 30th the meetuig-poiiit and the new starting-point. We

July 1863. , . ^ ,.«,,.

can never have a satisfactory basis for the history of
the man Jesus, but that negation does not afifect the
Idea of the Christ either in its historical influence
or its great symbolic meanings. Still such books as
Eenan's have their value in helping the popular
imagination to feel that the sacred past is of one
woof with that human present, which ought to be
sacred too.

You mention Eenan in your note, and the men-
tion has sent me ofif into rather gratuitous remarks,
you perceive. But such scrappy talk about great
subjects may have a better excuse than usual, if it
just serves to divert your mind from the sad things
that must be importuning you now.
Letter to R. After reading your article on *Eomola,' with

H. Hutton,

8th Aug. careful reference to the questions you put to me
in your letter, I can answer sincerely that I find
nothing fanciful in your interpretation. On the
contrary, I am confirmed in the satisfaction I felt
when I first listened to the article, at finding that
certain chief elements of my intention have im-
pressed themselves so strongly on your mind, not-
withstanding the imperfect degree in which I have
been able to give form to my ideas. Of course

1863.

1863.] Letter on *Bomola! 361

if I had been called on to expound my own book, Letter to r.

_ H. Button,

there are other things that 1 should want to say, or sth Aug.
things that I should say somewhat otherwise ; but
I can point to nothing in your exposition of which
my consciousness tells me that it is erroneous, in
the sense of saying something which I neither
thought nor felt. You have seized with a fulness
which I had hardly hoped that my book could
suggest, what it was my efifort to express in the
presentation of Bardo and Baldassarre ; and also the
relation of the Florentine political life to the de-
velopment of Tito's nature. Perhaps even a judge
so discerning as yourself could not infer from the
imperfect result how strict a self-control and selec-
tion were exercised in the presentation of details.
I believe there is scarcely a phrase, an incident,
an allusion, that did not gather its value to me
from its supposed subservience to my main artistic
objects. But it is likely enough that my mental
constitution would always render the issue of my
labour something excessive — wanting due propor-
tion. It is the habit of my imagination to strive
after as full a vision of the medium in which a
character moves as of the character itself. The
psychological causes which prompted me to give
such details of Florentine life and history as I

362 Artistic Vision. [16 blandford sq..

Letter to R, have given, are precisely the same as those which

H. Hutton, . , .. i.M i.-¥^T-i

8th Aug. determined me in givmg the details of English
village life in 'Silas Mamer/ or the "Dodson"
life, out of which were developed the destinies
of poor Tom and Maggie. But you have correctly
pointed out the reason why my tendency to excess
in this efifort after artistic vision makes the im-
pression of a fault in 'Eomola' much more per-
ceptibly than in my previous books. And I am
not surprised at your dissatisfaction with Eomola
herself. I can well believe that the many diffi-
culties belonging to the treatment of such a
character have not been overcome, and that I have
failed to bring out my conception with adequate
fulness. I am sorry she has attracted you so
little; for the great problem of her life, which
essentially coincides with a chief problem in Savo-
narola's, is one that readers need helping to under-
stand. But with regard to that and to my whole
book, my predominant feeling is, — ^not that I have
achieved anything, but — ^that great, great facts have
struggled to find a voice through me, and have only
been able to speak brokenly. That consciousness
makes me cherish the more any proof that my
work has been seen to have some true significance
by minds prepared not simply by instruction, but

1863.] London Depression. 363

by that religious and moral sympathy with the
historical life of man which is the larger half of
culture.

Aug. 10. — ^Went to Worthing. A sweet letter journal,

1868.

from Mrs Hare, wife of Julius Hare, and Maurice's
sister.

A%ig. 18. — ^Eetumed home much invigorated by
the week of change ; but my spirits seem to droop
as usual, now I am in London again.

I was at Worthing when your letter came. Letter to

Madame

spending all my daylight hours out of doors, and Bodichon,
trying with all my might to get health and cheer- ises. ^'
fulness. I will tell you the true reason why I did
not go to Hastings. I thought you would be all
the better for not having that solicitation of your
kindness that the fact of my presence there might
have caused. What you needed was precisely to
get away from people to whom you would inevit-
ably want to be doing something friendly, instead
of giving yourself up to pa-ssive enjoyment. Else,
of course, I should have liked everything you write
about and invite me to.

We only got home last night, and I suppose we
shall hardly be able to leave town again till after
the two younger boys have left us, and after we
have moved into the new house.

364

Love of Autumn, [16 blandford sq.,

Letter to
Madame
Bodichon,
19th Aug.
1863.

Letter to
Mrs Bray
and Miss
SaraHen-
nell, 1st
Sept 1863.

Since I saw you I have had some sweet woman's
tenderness shown me by Mrs Hare, the widow
of Archdeacon Hare, and the sister of Frederick
Maurice.

I know how you are enjoying the country.
I have just been having the joy myself. The
wide sky, the 7W)MiOndon, makes a new creature
of me in half an hour. I wonder, then, why I
am ever depressed — why I am so shaken by
agitations. I come back to London, and again
the air is full of demons.

I think I get a little freshness from the breeze
that blows on you — a little lifting of heart from
your wide sky and Welsh mountains. And the
edge of autumn on the morning air makes even
London a place in which one can believe in beauty
and delight. Delicate scent of dried rose-leaves
and the coming on of the autumnal airs are two
things that make me feel happy before I know
why.

The Priory is all scaffolding and paint; and
we are still in a nightmare of uncertainty about
our boys. But then I have by my side a dear
companion, who is a perpetual fountain of courage
and cheerfulness, and of considerate tenderness for
my lack of those virtues. And besides that, I

1863.] Mommsen — GorrUe. 365

have Eoman history! Perhaps that sounds like Letter to

Mrs Bray

a bitter joke to you, who are looking at the sea and miss

, i,Tk !• SaraHen-

and sky, and not thinking of Roman history at neu, ist

Sept. 1863.

all. But this too, read aright, has its gospel and
revelation. I read it much as I used to read a
chapter in the Acts or Epistles. Mommsen's
'History of Eome' is so fine, that I count all
minds graceless who read it without the deepest
stirrings.

I cannot be quite easy without sending this little Letter to

Mrs Con-
sign of love and good wishes on the eve of your greve, oct.

1863.

journey. I shall think of you with all the more
delight, because I shall imagine you winding along
the Riviera, and then settling in sight of beautiful
things not quite unknown to me. I hope your
life will be enriched very much by these coming
months; but above all, I hope that Mr Congreve
will come back strong. Tell him I have been
greatly moved by the 'Discours Pr^liminaire.' ^

If I wait to write until I have anything very Letter to

Miss Sara

profitable to say, you will have time to think that Henneu,

16th Oct.

I have forgotten you or else to forget me — and i863.
both consequences would be unpleasant to me.

Well, our poor boy Thomie parted from us to-day,
and set out on his voyage to Natal. I say " poor,"

1 Auguste Comte's.

366 Change of Home. [i6 blandford sq.,

Letter to as One does about all beings that are gone away

Miss Sara

Henneu, iTom US for a loug wMle. But he went away in

16th Oct . .

1863. excellent spirits, with a large packet of recom-

mendatory letters to all sorts of people, and with
what he cares much more for — a first-rate rifle and
revolver, — and already with a smattering of Dutch
Zulu, picked up from his grammars and dictionaries.

What are you working at, I wonder ? Cara says
you are writing ; and, though I desire not to ask
prying questions, I should feel much joy in your
being able to tell me that you are at work on
something which gives you a life apart from
circumstantial things.

I am taking a deep bath of other peoples'
thoughts, and all doings of my own seem a long
way off me. But my bath will be sorely inter-
rupted soon by the miserable details of removal
from one house to another. Happily Mr Owen
Jones has undertaken the ornamentation of the
drawing-room, and will prescribe all about chairs,
&c. I think, after all, I like a clean kitchen
better than any other room.

We are far on in correcting the proofs of the
new edition of 'Goethe,' and are about to begin
the printing of the * Aristotle,' which is to appear
at Christmas or Easter.

1863.] The Priory. 367

Nov, 5. — ^We moved into our new house — ^The Journal,

1863.

Priory, 21 North Bank, Eegents' Park.

Nov, 14. — ^We are now nearly in order, only
wanting a few details of furniture to fini s h our
equipment for a new stage in our life's journey.
I long very much to have done thinking of
upholstery, and to get again a consciousness that
there are better things than that to reconcile one
with life.

At last we are in our new home, with only a Letter to

Mrs Bray,

few details still left to arrange. Such fringing i4thNov.

1863.

away of precious Ufe, in thinking of carpets and

tables, is an affiction to me, and seems like a

nightmare from which I shall find it bliss to

awake into my old world of care for things quite

apart from upholstery.

I have kissed your letter in sign of my joy at Letter to

Mrs Con-
getting it. But the cold draughts of your Floren- greve, 28th

-r Nov. 1863.

tme room came across my joy rather harshly. I
know you have good reasons for what you do,
yet I cannot help sajdng. Why do you stay at
Florence, the city of draughts rather than of
flowers ?

Mr Congreve's suffering during the journey, and
your suflfering in watching him, saddens me as I
think of it. For a long while to come I suppose

368 Mr Owen Jones decorates, [the priory.

Letter to human energy will be greatly taken up with resig-

MrsCon- . -i -i

greve, 28th uatiou rather than action. I wish my feeling for

Nov. 1863.

you could travel by some helpful vibrations good
for pains.

For ourselves, we have enough ease now to be
able to give some of it away. But our removal
into our new home on the 5th of November was
not so easy as it might have been, seeing that I
was only half recovered from a severe attack of in-
fluenza, which had caused me more terrible pains in,
the head and throat than I have known for years.
However, the crisis is past now, and we think our
little home altogether charming and comfortable.
Mr Owen Jones has been unwearied in taking
trouble that everything about us may be pretty.
He stayed two nights till after twelve o'clock, that
he might see every engraving hung in the right
place ; and as you know I care-e^ij^n more about the
fact of kindness than its eflfects, you will under-
stand that I enjoy being grateful for all this friend-
liness on our behalf. But so tardy a business is
furnishing, that it was not until Monday last that
we had got everything in its place in preparation
for the next day — Charlie's twenty-first birthday,
which made our house-warming a doubly interest-
ing epoch. I wish your sweet presence could have

1863.] Troubles of Furnishing. 369

adorned our drawing-room, and made it look still Letter to

Mrs Ck>n-

more agreeable in the eyes of all beholders. You greve, 28th

T1-1 -1 T 1 ,. .,. Nov. 1868.

would nave liked to hear J ansa play on his violin ;
and you would perhaps have been amused to see
an affectionate but dowdy friend of yours, splendid
in a grey moire antique — the consequence of a
severe lecture from Owen Jones on her general
neglect of personal adornment. I am glad to have
got over this crisis of maternal and housekeeping
duty. My soul never flourishes on attention to
details which others can manage quite gracefully
without any conscious loss of power for wider
thoughts and cares. Before we began to move, I
was swimming in Comte and Euripides and Latin
Christianity : now I am sitting among puddles, and
can get sight of no deep water. Now I have a
mind made up of old carpets fitted in new places,
and new carpets suffering from accidents; chairs,
tables, and prices; muslin curtains and down-
draughts in cold chimneys. I have made a vow
never to think of my own furniture again, but only
of other people's.

The book^ is come, with its precious inscription. Letter to

Mrs Bray,

and I have read a great piece of it already (11 A.M.), 4th Dec

1863.

brides looking through it to get an idea of its

I * Physiology for Schools.* By Mrs Bray.
VOL. n. 2 A

370 Mrs Bray's ^Physioloyy for Schools' [the priory,
Letter to general plan. See how fascination shifts its quarter

Mrs Bray,

4th Dec. as our life goes on ! I cannot be induced to lay

1863.

aside my regular books for half an hour to read
* Mrs lirriper's Lodgings/ but I pounce on a book
like yours, which tries to tell me as much as it
can in brief space of the "natural order," and am
seduced into making it my after-breakfast reading
instead of the work I had prescribed for myself in
that pleasant quiet time. I read so slowly and
read so few books, that this small fact among my
small habits seems a great matter to me. I thank
you, dear Cara, not simply for giving me the book,
but for having put so much faithful labour in a
worthy direction, and created a lasting benefit which
I can share with others. Whether the circulation
of a book be large or small, there is always this
supreme satisfaction about solid honest work, that
as far as it goes its effect must be good; and as
all effects spread immeasurably, what we have to
care for is kind, and not quantity. I am a shabby
correspondent, being in ardent practice of the
piano just now, which makes my days shorter
than usual.
Letter to I am rather ashamed to hear of any one trying to

Madame

Bodichon, bc uscful just uow, for I am doing nothing but in-

4th Dec.

1863. dulging myself — enjoying being petted very much.

1863.] NecessUy of Sympaihy. 371

enjoying great books, enjoying our new pretty quiet Letter to

Madame

home, and the study of Beethoven's sonatas for Bodichon,

4th Dec

piano and violin, with the mild-faced old Jansa, ises.
and not being at all unhappy as you imagine me.
I sit taking deep draughts of reading — 'Politique
Positive,' Euripides, Latin Christianity, and so forth,
and remaining in glorous ignorance of " the current
literature." Such is our life : and you perceive that
instead of being miserable, I am rather following a
wicked example, and saying to my soul, "Soul,
take thine ease." I am sorry to think of you without
any artistic society to help you and feed your faith.
It is hard to believe long together that anything is
" worth while," unless there is some eye to kindle
in common with our own, some brief word uttered
now and then to imply that what is infinitely pre-
cious to us is precious alike to another mind. I
fancy that to do without that guarantee, one must
be rather insane — one must be a bad poet, or a
spinner of impossible theories, or an inventor of
impossible machinery. However, it is but brief
space either of time or distance that divides you
from those who thoroughly share your cares and
joys — always excepting that portion which is the
hidden private lot of every human being. In the
most entire confidence even of husband and wife

372 Estimate of Renan. [the PRIORY,

there is always the unspoken residue — ^the undivined
residue — ^perhaps of what is most sinful, perhaps of
what is most exalted and unselfish.
Letter to I get less and less inclined to write any but the

Miss Sftn

Henneu, briefest letters. My books seem to get so far off
1868. me when once I have written them, that I should

be afraid of looking into 'The Mill;' but it was
written faithfully and with intense feeling when it
was written, so I will hope that it will do no mortal
any harm. I am indulging myself frightfully:
reading everything except the " current literature,"
and getting more and more out of rapport with the
public taste. I have read Eenan's book, however,
which has proved to be eminently in the public
taste. It will have a good influence on the whole,
I imagine ; but this * Vie de J^sus,' and still more,
Eenan's " Letter to Berthelot " in the * Eevue des
Deux Mondes,' have compelled me to give up the
high estimate I had formed of his mind. Judging
from the indications in some other writings of his,
I had reckoned him amongst the finest thinkers of
the time. Still his 'life of Jesus' has so much
artistic merit, that it will do a great deal towards
the culture of ordinary minds, by giving them a
sense of imity between that far-off past and our
present.

1863.] EnjoyTTient of New House. 373

We are . enjoying our new house — enjoying its Letter to

Mrs Bray,

quiet and freedom from perpetual stair-mounting 26th Dec
— enjoying also the prettiness of colouring and
arrangement, all of which we owe to our dear
good friend, Mr Owen Jones. He has determined
every detail, so that we can have the pleasure of
admiring what is our own without vanity. And
another magnificent friend has given me the most
splendid reclining chair conceivable, so that I am
in danger of being envied by the gods, especially as
my health is thoroughly good withal. I should
like to be sure that you are just as comfortable ex-
ternally and internally. I daresay you are, being
less of a cormorant in your demands on life than I
am ; and it is that diflference which chiefly distin-
guishes human lots when once the absolute needs
are satisfied.

Your aflfectionate greeting comes as one of the Letter to
many blessings that are brightening this happy Taylor, 28th

^, . Dec 1863.

Christmas.

We have been giving our evenings up to par-
ental duties — i,e,, to games and music for the
amusement of the youngsters. I am wonderfully
well in body, but rather in a self-indulgent state
mentally, saying, "Soul, take thine ease," after a
dangerous example.

374 Recovery of Tite-Mite, [the pmoky.

Letter to Of course, I sholl be glad to see your fair face

Mrs Peter , , . , ^

Taylor, 28th whenever it can shine upon me; but I can well

Deo. 18GS

imagine, with your multitudinous connections,
Christmas and the New Year are times when all
unappointed visits must be impossible to you.

All good to you and yours through the coming
year ! and amongst the good, may you continue to
feel some love for me ; for love is one of the con-
ditions in which it is even better to give than to
receive.
Letter to Accordiug to your plans, you must be in Eome.

Mrs Oon-

greve, 19th I havc bccu in good spirits about you ever since I
last heard from you ; and the foggy twilight which,
for the last week, has followed the severe frost, has
made me rejoice the more that you are in a better
climate and amongst lovelier scenes than we are
groping in. I please myself with thinking that
you will all come back with stores of strength and
delightful memories. Only, if this were the best of
all possible worlds, Mr Lewes and I should be able
to meet you in some beautiful place before you turn
your backs on Italy. As it is, there is no hope of such
a meeting. March is Charlie's holiday month, and
when he goes out we like to stay at home for the
sake of recovering for that short time our imbroken
ate-H-Ute, We have every reason to be cheerful if

Jan. 1864.

1864.] Mr Lewes's 'Aristotle: 375

the fog would let us. Last night I finished reading Letter to
the last proofs of the 'Aristotle/ which makes an greve,i9th

Jan. 1864.

octavo volume of rather less than 400 pages. I
think it is a book which will be interesting and
valuable to the few, but perhaps only to the
few. However, George's happiness in writing his
books makes him less dependent than most authors
on the audience they find. He felt that a thorough
account of Aristotle's science was a bit of work
which needed doing, and he has given his utmost
pains to do it worthily. These are the two most
important conditions of authorship; all the rest
belong to the " less modifiable " order of things. I
have been playing energetically on the piano lately,
and taking lessons in accompanying the violin from
Herr Jansa, one of the old Beethoven Quartette
players. It has given me a fresh kind of muscular
exercise, as well as nervous stimulus, and, I think,
has done its part towards making my health better.
In fact, I am very well physically. I wish I could
be as clever and active as you about our garden,
which might be made much prettier this spring if
I had judgment and industry enough to do the
right thing. But it is a native vice of mine to
like all such matters attended to by some one
else, and to fold my arms and enjoy the result.

376 Personal Compensation, [the pkiob.^.

Some people axe bom to make life prettjr, and
others to grumble that it is not pretty enough-
But pray make a point of liking me in spite of
my deficiencies.
Letter to I comfort mysclf with the belief that your natnire

Mrs Peter

Taylor, 2i8t is Icss rebcllious under trouble than mine — less
craving and discontented.

Eesignation to trial, which can never have a per^
sonal compensation, is a part of our life task ^vhici
has been too much obscured for us by unveraci-
ous attempts at universal consolation. I think we
should be more tender to each other while we live,
if that wretched falsity which makes men quite
comfortable about their fellows* troubles were thor-
oughly got rid of.

Letter to I oftcn imagine you, not without a little longing.

Miss Sara

Henneii, tummg out mto the fields whenever you list, as we

22d Jan.

1864. used to do in the old days at Eosehill. That power

of turning out into the fields is a great possession
in life — worth many luxuries.

Here is a bit of news not^ I think, too insigni-
ficant for you to tell Cara. The other day Mr
Spencer, senior (Herbert Spencer's father) called on
us, and knowiug that he has been engaged in educa-
tion all his life, that he is a man of extensive and
accurate knowledge, and that, on his son's showing,

1864.] Mr Burton*s Portrait. 377

he is a very able teacher, I showed him Cara's Letter to

Miss Sara

* British Empire.' Yesterday Herbert Spencer came, Heimeii,

22dJan.

and on my inquiring told me that his father was i864.
pleased with Cara's book, and thought highly of it.
Such testimonies as this, given apart from personal
influence and by a practised judge, are, I should
think, more gratifying than any other sort of praise
to all faithful writers.

Jan, 30. — ^We had Browning, Dallas, and Burton Joumai,

1864.

to dine with us, and in the evening a gentlemen's
party.

Feb, 14. — ^Mr Burton dined with us, and asked
me to let him take my portrait.

It was pleasant to have news of you through the Letter to

Mrs Peter

fog, which reduces my faith in all good and lovely Taylor, sd

March 1864.

things to its lowest ebb.

I hope you are less abjectly under the control of
the skiey influences than I am. The soul's calm
sunshine in me is half made up of the outer sun-
shine. However, we are going on Friday to hear
the " Judas Maccabseus," and Handel's music always
brings me a revival.

I have had a great personal loss lately in the
death of a sweet woman,^ to whom I have sometimes

1 Mrs Julius Hare, who gave her Maurice's book on the Lord's
Prayer,

378

Mrs JvZius Hare. [the priory,

Letter to gone, and hoped to go again, for a little moral

Mrs Peter

Taylor, 8d Strength; She had long been confined to her room

March 1864.

by consumption, which has now taken her quite out
of reach except to memory, which makes all dear
human beings undying to us as long as we ourselves
live.

I am glad to know that you have been interested
in " David Gray." ^ It is good for us all that these
true stories should be well told. Even those to
whom the power of helping rarely comes, have
their imaginations instructed so as to be more just
and tender in their thoughts about the lot of their
fellows.
Letter to I felt it loug siuce I had had news from you, but

MiasSara

Henneii, 7th my days go by, each seeming too short for what I

March 1864.

must do, and I don't like to molest you with mere
questions.

I have been spoiled for correspondence by Mr
Lewes's goodness in always writing letters for me
where a proxy is admissible. And so it has come
to be a great afifair with me to write even a note,
while people who keep up a large correspondence,
and set apart their hour for it, find it easy to cover
reams of paper with talk from the end of the pen.
You say nothing of yourself, which is rather un-
1 A story by Bfr Robert Buchanan in the ' ConiluU,' Feb. 1864«

1864.] iTieguality of Human Lots, 379

kind. We are enjoying a perfect tite-d-tSte. On Letter to

MissSaia

Friday we are going to hear the "Judas Macca- Heiineii,7th

March 1864.

baeus," and try if possible to be stirred to something
heroic by " Sound an alarm."

I was more sorry than it is usually possible to
be about the death of a person utterly imknown to
me, when I read of Maria Martineau's death. She
was a person whose office in life seemed so thor-
oughly defined and so valuable. For an invalid
like Harriet Martineau to be deprived of a beloved
nurse and companion, is a sorrow that makes one
ashamed of one's small grumblings. But, oh dear,
oh dear! when toUl people leave ofif their foolish
talk about all human lots being equal ; as if any-
body with a sound stomach ever knew misery com-
parable to the misery of a dyspeptic.

Farewell, dear Sara: be generous, and don't
always wait aji age in silence because I don't
write.

If you were anybody but yourself I should dis- Letter to

Mrs Con-
like you, because I have to wnte letters to you. greve,8th

A -1. • Vi.- -L • 1. ^v. - March 1864.

As it IS, your quahties triumph even over the vice
of being in Italy (too far off for a note of three
lines), and expecting to hear from me, though I
fear I should be graceless enough to let you expect
in vain if I did not care very much to hear from

380 Trip to Scotland. [the pkioby,

Letter to yov,, and did not find myself getting uneasy when

Mrs Oon>

greve, 8th many weeks have been passed in ignorance about

March 1864.

you. I do hope to hear that you got your fortnight
of sight-seeing before leaving Eome — at least, you
would surely go well over the great galleries. If
not, I shall be vexed with you, and I shall only be
consoled for your not going to Venice by the chance
of the Austrians being driven or bought out of it —
on no slighter grounds. For I suppose you will not
go to Italy again for a long, long while, so as to
leave any prospect of the omission being made up
for by-and-by.
Letter to Wc ruu ofif to Scotlaud for the Easter week.

Miss Sara

Henneu, Setting out ou Suuday evemng; so if the spring
1864. runs away again, I hope it will run northward.

We shall return on Monday the 4th April Some
news of your inwards and outwards would be ac-
ceptable; but don't write unless you really like
to write. You see Strauss has come out with a
popvlar 'life of Jesus.'
Letter to Fog, cast wiud, and headache: there is my week's

Taylor! 26th history. But this morning, when your letter came
^ to me, I had got up well, and was reading the

sorrows of the aged Hecuba with great enjoyment.
I wish an immortal drama could be got out of my
sorrows, that people might be the better for them

1864.] Joy in the CouTUry. 381

two thousand years hence. But fog, east wind, and Letter to

Mrs Peter

headache are not great dramatic motives. Taylor, 26th

March 1864.

Your letter was a remforcement of the dehcious
sense of hien itre that comes with the departure of
bodily pain; and I am glad, retrospectively, that
beyond our fog lay your moonlight and your view
of the glorious sea. It is not difl&cult to me to
believe that you look a new creature already. Mr
Lewes tells me the country air has always a magi-
cal effect on me, even in the first hour ; but it is
not the air alone, is it? It is the wide sky and
the hills and the wild flowers which are linked
with all calming thoughts, just as every object in
town has its perturbing associations.

I share your joy in the Federal successes — with
that check that attends all joy in a war not abso-
lutely ended. But you have worked and earned
more joy than /those who have been merely pas-
sives.

April 6. — Mr Spencer called for the first time Joumai,

1864.

after a long correspondence on the subject of his
relation to Comte.

Yes ! I am come back from Scotland — came back Letter to

Miss Sara

last Saturday night. Henneu, 9th

I was much pleased to see Cara so wonderfully
well and cheerfuL She seems to me ten times

382 Garibaldi at Crystal Palace, [the priory,

Letter to more cheerful than in the old days. I am inter-
Miss sa» 1 1 • 1 •
Henneii, 9Ui ested to know more about your work which is

filling your life now, but I suppose I shall know
nothing until it is in print — and perhaps that is
the only form in which one can do any one's work
full justice. It is very disappointing to me to hear
that Cara has at present so little promise of mone-
tary results from her conscientious labour. I fear
the fatal system of half profits is working against
her as against others. We are going to the opera
to-night to hear the "Favorita." It was the first
opera I ever saw (with you I saw it !), and I have
never seen it since — that is the reason I was
anxious to go to-night.

This afternoon we go to see Mulready's pictures
— ^so the day will be a full one.
Journal, April 18. — ^Wc wcut to the Crystal Palace to

see Garibaldi.

Letter to Only think! next Wednesday morning we start

Henneu, f or Italy. The move is quite a sudden one. We

1864. ^ need a good shake for our bodies and minds, and

must take the spring-time before the weather

becomes too hot. We shall not be away more than

a month or six weeks at the utmost. Our friend

Mr Burton, the artist, will be our companion for at

least part of the time. He has just painted a

1864.] Third Visit to Italy. 383

divine picture, which is now to be seen at the old Letter to

Miss Sara

"Water-Colour Exhibition. The subject is from a Henneu.

80th April

Norse legend; but that is no matter — ^the picture i864.
tells its story. A knight in mailed armour and
surcoat has met the fan* tall woman he (secretly)
loves, on a turret stair. By an uncontrollable
movement he has seized her arm and is kissing it.
She, amazed, has dropped the flowers she held in
her other hand. The subject might have been made
the most vulgar thing in the world — the artist has
raised it to the highest pitch of refined emotion.
The kiss is on the fur-lined sleeve that covers the
arm, and the face of the knight is the face of a
man to whom the kiss is a sacrament.

How I should like a good long talk with you !
From what you say of your book that is to come,
I expect to be very much interested in it. I think
I hardly ever read a book of the kind you de-
scribe without getting some help from it. It is to
this strong influence that is felt in all personal
statements of inward experience, that we must
perhaps refer the excessive publication of religious
journals.

May 4 — ^We started for Italy with Mr Burton, joumai,

1864.

June 20. — ^Arrived at our pretty home again after
an absence of seven weeks.

384 Charles Lewes's Engagement, [the prioby.

Letter to Your letter has aflfected me deeply. Thank you

Miss Sara . . . t .- ,

Henneii, veiy much for writing it. It seems as if a close
1864. view of almost every human lot would disclose

some suffering that makes life a doubtful good —
except perhaps at certain epochs of fresh love,
fresh creative activity, or unusual power of helping
others. One such epoch we are witnessing in a
young life that is very near to us. Our "boy,''
Charles, has just become engaged, and it is very
pretty to see the happiness of a pure first love, full
at present of nothing but promise. It will interest
you to know that the young lady who has won his
heart, and seems to have given him her own with
equal ardour and entireness, is the grand-daughter
of Dr Southwood Smith, whom he adopted when
she was three years old, and brought up under his
own eye. She is very handsome, and has a splen-
did contralto voice. Altogether Pater and I rejoice ;
for though the engagement has taken place earlier
than we expected, or should perhaps have chosen,
there are counterbalancing advantages. I always
hoped Charlie would be able to choose, or rather
find, the other half of himself by the time he was
twenty -three — the event has only come a year
and a half sooner. This is the news that greet-
ed us on our return! We had seen before we

1864.] Italian Jawmey with Mr Burton, 385

went that the acquaintance, which was first Letter to

Mi88Sft»

made eighteen months or more ago, had become Henneu,

25th June

supremely interesting to Charlie. Altogether we i864.
rejoice.

Our journey was delightful in spite of Mr Lewes's
frequent malaise ; for his cheerful nature is rarely
subdued even by bodily discomfort. We saw only
one place that we had not seen before — namely,
Brescia ; but all the rest seemed more glorious to us
than they had seemed four years ago. Our course
was to Venice, where we stayed a fortnight, paus-
ing only at Paris, Turin, and Milan on our way
thither, and taking Padua, Verona, Brescia, and
again Milan, as points of rest on our way back.
Our friend Mr Burton's company was very stimu-
lating from his great knowledge, not of pictures
only, but of almost all other subjects. He has had
the advantage of living in Germany for five or
six years, and has gained those large serious views
of history which are a special product of German
culture, and this was his first visit to Italy, so you
may imagine his eager enjoyment in finding it
beautiful beyond his hopes. We crossed the Alps
by the St Gothard, and stayed a day or two at
Lucerne ; and this, again, was a first sight of Swit-
zerland to him.

VOL. II. 2 B

386

Despondency.

[the peiory,

Letter to
Mrs Con-
greve, Jiily
1864.

Journal,
1864.

Letter to
Miss Sara
Hennell,
28th Aog.
1864.

Looking at my little mats this morning while I
was dressing, I felt very grateful for them, and
remembered that I had not shown my gratitude
when you gave them to me. If I were a "con-
ceited" poet, I should say your presence was the
sun and the mats were the tapers ; but now you are
away I delight in the tapers. How pretty the
pattern is — and your brain counted it out ! They
will never be worn quite away while I live, or my
little purse for coppers either.

July 17. — Horrible scepticism about all things
paralysing my mind. Shall I ever be good for any-
thing again ? Ever do anything again ?

July 19. — ^Eeading Gibbon, vol. i., in connection
with Mosheim; also Gieseler on the condition of
the world at the appearance of Christianity.

I am distressed to find that I have let a week pass
without writing in answer to your letter, which
made me very glad when I got it. Eemem-
bering you just a minute ago, I started up from
Max Miiller*s new volume, with which I was con-
soling myself under a sore throat, and rushed to
the desk that I might not risk any further delay.

It was just what I wanted to hear about you,
that you were having some change, and I think
the freshness of the companionship must help other

1864.] Newman's ''Apologia^ 387

good influences, not to speak of the "Apologia," Letter to
which hreathed much life into me when I read it. Henneu,
Pray mark that beautiful passage in which he i864. ^'
thanks his friend Ambrose St John. I know
hardly anything that delights me more than such
evidences of sweet brotherly love being a reality in
the world. I envy you your opportunity of seeing
and hearing Newman, and should like to make an
expedition to Birmingham for that sole end.

My trouble now is George's delicate health. He
gets thinner and thinner. He is going to try what
horseback will do, and I am looking forward to
that with some hope.

Our boy's love-story runs smoothly, and seems
to promise nothing but good. His attraction to
Hampstead gives George and me more of our
dear old tSte-d-tSte, which we can't help being glad
to recover.

Dear Cara and Mr Bray! I wish they too had
joy instead of sadness from the young life they
have been caring for these many years. When
you write to Cara, or see her, assure her that she
is remembered in my most afifectionate thoughts,
and that I often bring her present experience
before my mind — more or less truly — ^for we can
but blunder about each other, we poor mortals.

388

' The Spanish Gypsy' [the priory.

Journal,
1864.

Letter to
Miss Ban
Hennell,
15th Sept
1864, from
Harrogate.

Write to me whenever you can, dear Sara. I
should have answered immediately but for sick-
ness, visitors, business, &c.

Sept 6. — I am reading abovi Spain, and trying a
drama on a svhject thai ha^ fascinated me — have
written the prologue, and am beginning the First
Act. But I have little hope of making anything
saiisfa/itory.

Sept 13 to 30. — ^Went to Harrogate and Scar-
borough, seeing York Minster and Peterborough.

We journeyed hither on Tuesday, and found the
place quite as pretty as we expected. The great
merit of Harrogate is that one is everywhere close
to lovely open walks. Your "plan" has been a
delightful reference for Mr Lewes, who takes it out
of his pocket every time we walk. At present, of
course, there is not much improvement in health
to be boasted of, but we hope that the delicious
bracing air — and also the chalybeate waters,
which have not yet been tried — ^will not be without
good effect. The journey was long. How hideous
those towns of Holbeach and Wakefield are ! It is
difl&cult to keep up one's faith in a millennium
within sight of this modem civilisation which con-
sists in "development of industries." Egypt and
her big calm gods seems quite as good.

1864.] Harrogate and Scarborough. 389

We migrated on Friday last from delightful Letter to

Miss Sara

Harrogate, pausing at York to see the glorious Henneu,

, 26th Sept

Cathedral. The weather is perfect, the sea blue as i864, from
a sapphire, so that we see to utmost advantage the ough.
fine line of coast here, and the magnificent breadth
of sand. Even the Tenby sands are not so fine as
these. Better than all, Mr Lewes, in spite of a sad
check of a few days, is strengthened beyond our
most hopeful expectations by this brief trial of
fresh conditions. He is wonderful for the rapidity
with which he "picks up" after looking alarmingly
feeble, and even wasted. We paid a visit to Knares-
borough the very last day of our stay at Harro-
gate, and were rejoiced that we had not missed the
sight of that pretty characteristic northern town.
There is a ruined castle here too, standing just
where one's eyes would desire it on a grand line of
cliff; but perhaps you know the place. Its only
defect is that it is too large, and therefore a little
too smoky; but except in Wales or Devonshire, I
have seen no sea place on our English coast that
has greater natural advantages. I don't know
quite why I should write you this note all about
ourselves — except that your goodness having
helped us to the benefit we have got, I like you
to know of the said benefit.

390 Visit from Mrs Congreve. [the pkioby,

Letter to The wished-for opportunity is coming very soon

Mrs Con-

greve,8ttn- Ncxt Saturday, Charlie will go to Hastings, and

day, Oct (1)

1864. will not return till Sunday evening. Will you — can

you — arrange to come to us on Saturday to lunch or
dinner, and stay with us till Sunday evening ? "We
shall be very proud and happy if you will consent
to put up with such travelling quarters as we can
give you. You will be rejoicing our hearts by
coming ; and I know that for the sake of cheering
others, you would endure even large privations as
well as small ones.

Letter to What a purc delight it was to have you with us !

Mrs Con*

greve, Mon- I fccl the better for it in spite of a cold which I

day-week

foUowing. caught yesterday — ^perhaps owing to the loss of

your sunny presence all of a sudden.
Letter to It makcs me very, very happy to see George so

Miss Sara

Henneu, much better, and to return with that chief satis-

2d Oct.

1864. faction to the quiet comforts of home. We register

Harrogate among the places to be revisited.

I have had a fit of Spanish history lately, and
have been learning Spanish grammar — the easiest
of all the Eomance grammars — since we have been
away. Mr Lewes has been rubbing up his Spanish
by reading ' Don Quixote ' in these weeks of icUesse;
and I have read aloud and translated to him, like a
good child. I find it so much easier to learn any-

'^' [^ 1864.] First Act of 'Spanish Gypsy * finished. 391

H'^ thing than to feel that I have anything worth Letter to

TT , Miss Sara

^- teaching. Hennell,

Tp^ 2d Oct.

"^.' All is perfectly well with ns, now the "little i864.
aj:*. Pater" is stronger, and we are especially thankful
^enii for Charlie's prospect of marriage. We could not

wi have desired anything more suited to his character
^i' and more likely to make his life a good one. But

k this blessing which has befallen us, only makes me
of i feel the more acutely the cutting oflf of a like satis-
Tii faction from the friends I chiefly love.

Oct. 5. — Finished the first draught of the First Journal,

1864.

ic Act of my drama, and read it to George.

V. Oct. 15. — ^Went to the Maestro (Burton) for a
sitting,

Nov, 4. — ^Eead my Second Act to George. It is
written in verse — ^my first serious attempt at blank
verse. G. praises, and encourages me.

Nov. 10. — I have been at a very low ebb, body
and mind, for the last few days, sticking in the mud
continually in the construction of my 3d, 4th, and
5th Acts. Yesterday Browning came to tell us of
a bust of Savonarola in terra-cotta, just discovered

I at Florence.

I I believe I have thought of you every day for Letter to

Miss Sara

the last fortnight, and I remembered the birthday Henneii,

23d Nov.

— and " everything." But I was a little cross, be- i864.

392 Miss HenmlVs Birthday, [the prioey,

Letter to cause I had heard nothing of you since Mr Bray's

Miss Sara

Henneu, visit. And I Said to myself, "If she wanted to

23d Nov.

1864. write she would write." I confess I was a little

ashamed when I saw the outside of your letter ten
minutes ago, feeling that I should read within it
the proof that you were as thoughtful and mindful
as ever.

Yes, I do heartily give my greetiug — had given
it already. And I desire very much that the work
which is absorbing you, may give you some happi-
ness besides that which belongs to the activity of
production.

It is very kind of you to remember Charlie's
date too. He is as happy as the day is long — and
very good : one of those creatures to whom good-
ness comes naturally, — not any exalted goodness,
but everyday serviceable goodness, such as wears
through life. Whereas exalted goodness comes
in brief inspirations, and requires a man to die lest
he should spoil his work.

I have been ill, but now am pretty well, with
much to occupy and interest me, and with no
trouble except those bodily ailments.

I could chat a long while with you — ^but I re-
strain myself, because I must not carry on my
letter writing iuto the " solid day."

1864.] Christmas Greetings. 393

Your precious letter did come last night, and Letter to

Mrs Con-
crowned the day's enjoyment. Our family party greve,

Christmas

went oflf very well, entirely by dint of George's Day, i864.
exertions. I wish you had seen him acting char-
ades, and heard him make an after-supper speech.
You would have understood all the self-forgetful
goodness that lay under the assumption of boyish
animal spirits. A horrible German whom I have
been obliged to see, has been talking for two hours,
with the hardest eyes, blind to all possibilities that
he was boring us, and so I have been robbed of all
the time I wanted for writing to you. I can only
say now that I bore you on my heart — ^you and all
yours known to me — even before I had had your
letter yesterday. Indeed, you are not apart from
any delight I have in life : I long always that you
should share it — ^if not otherwise, at least by know-
ing of it, which to you is a sort of sharing. Our
double loves and best wishes for all of you — Eough
being included, as I trust you include Ben. Are
they not idlers with us ? Also a title to regard as
well as being colldborateurs,
Dec, 24. — A family party in the evening. journal,

1864.

Dec. 25. — I read the Third Act of my drama to
George, who praised it highly. We spent a per-
fectly quiet evening, intending to have our Christ-

394 Retraced of I864, [the priory,

mas Day's jollity on Tuesday, when the boys are
at home.
Journal, Jan. 1. — The last year has been unmarked by

1865

any trouble except bad health. The bright spots in
the year have been the publication of 'Aristotle,'
and our journey to Venice. With me the year has
not been fruitful. I have written three Acts of my
drama, and am now in a condition of body and mind
to make me hope for better things in the coming
year. The last quarter has made an epoch for me,
by the fact that, for the first time in my serious
authorship, I have written verse. In each other we
are happier than ever. I am more grateful to my
dear husband for his perfect love, which helps me
in all good and checks me in all evil — ^more con-
scious that in him I have the greatest of blessings.
Letter to I hopc the wish that this New Year may be a

greve, 8d happy ouc to you does not seem to be made a mock-
ery by any troubles or anxieties pressing on you.

I enclose a cheque, which I shall be obliged if
you will offer to Mr Congreve, as I know he prefers
that payments should be made at the beginning of
the year.

I shall think of you on the nineteenth. I won-
der how many there really were in that "small
upper room" 1866 years ago.

Jan. 1865.

1865.] VisU to Paris. 395

Jan, 8. — ^Mrs Congreve staying with us for a Jounuu,
couple of nights. Yesterday we went to Mr Bur-
ton's to see my portrait, with which she was much
pleased. Since last Monday I have been writing a
poem, the matter of which was written in prose
three or four years ago — " My Vegetarian Friend."

Jan. 15 to 25. — Visit to Paris.

Are we not happy to have reached home on Letter to

Mrs Con-
Wednesday, before this real winter came? We greve, Fri-
day (?), 27th

enjoyed our visit to Paris greatly, in spite of bad Jan. im.
weather, going to the theatre or opera nearly every
night, and seeing sights all day long. I think the
most interesting sight we saw was Comte's dwelling.
Such places, that knew the great dead, always move
me deeply ; and I had an unexpected sight of in-
terest in the photograph taken at the very last. M*
Thomas was very friendly, and pleasant to talk to
because of his simple manners. We gave your
remembrances to him, and promised to assure you
of his pleasure in hearing of you. I wish some
truer representation of Mr Congreve hung up in
the Salon instead of that (to me) exasperating
photograph.

We thought the apartment Yery freuncUich, and I
flattered myself that I could have written better in
the little study there than in my own. Such self-

396 Poem on " Utopias" [thb pbiory,

flattery is usually the most amiable phase of dis-
content with one's own inferiority.
I am really stronger for the change.
Journal, Jan, 28. — ^Finished my poem on " Utopias."

Letter to I suspect you havc come to dislike letters, but

HeimSr ^^^^ y^^ ®^y ^^' ^ must wiite now and then to
1^5^*^ gratify myself. I want to send my love, lest all
the old messages shall have lost their scent, like
old lavender bags.

Since I wrote to you last we have actually been
to Paris! A little business was an excuse for
getting a great deal of pleasure ; and I, for whom
change of air and scene is always the best tonic, am
much brightened by our wintry expedition, which
ended just in time for us to escape the heavy fall
of snow.

We are very happy, having almost recovered our
old Ute-it'tite, of which I am so selfishly fond, that
I am beginning to feel it an heroic effort when I
make up my mind to invite half-a-dozen visitors.
But it is necessary to strive against this unsocial
disposition, so we are going to have some open
evenings.

There is great talk of a new periodical — a fort-
nightly apparition, partly on the plan of the ' Eevue
des Deux Mondes.' Mr Lewes has consented to

1866.] Charades. 397

become its editor, if the preliminaries are settled so Letter to

Miss Sara
as to satisfy him. HenneU, 6th

_ , _ , - _ 1. , « Feb. 1866

Ecco ! I have told you a uttle of our news, not
daring to ask you anything about yourself, since
you evidently don't want to tell me anything.

The party was a "mull." The weather was bad. Letter to

Mrs Gon-

Some of the invited were ill and sent regrets, greve, i9th

Feb. 1865.

others were not ardent enough to brave the damp
evening — ^in fine, only twelve came. We had a
charade, which, like our neighbours, was no better
than it should have been, and some rather languid
music, our best musicians half failing us — so ill is
merit rewarded in this world I If the severest
sense of fulfilling a duty could make one's parties
pleasant, who so deserving as I ? I turn my in-
ward shudders into outward smiles, and talk fast
with a sense of lead on my tongue. However, Mr
Pigott made a woman's part in the charade so irre-
sistibly comic, that I tittered at it at intervals in
my sleepless hours. I am rather uncomfortable
about you, because you seemed so much less well
and strong the other day than your average. Let
me 'hear before long how you and Mr Congreve
are.
Feb. 21. — 111 and very miserable. * George has Joumai,

. 1865.

taken my drama away from me.

398

Dyspeptic TrovUes, [the priory,

Letter to
MrgCk>n-
greve, 27th
Feb. 1865.

Jounml,
1865.

Letter to
MrsCon-
greve, 16th
March
1865.

The sun shone through my window on your letter
as I read it, adding to its cheeriness. It was good
of you to write it. I was ill last week, and had
mental troubles besides — happily such as are un-
connected with any one's experience except my
own. I am still ailing, but striving hard " not to
mind," and not to diffuse my inward trouble, accord-
ing to Madame de Vaux's excellent maxim. I
shall not, I fear, be able to get to you till near the
end of next week — towards the 11th. I think of
you very often, and especially when my own malaise
reminds me how much of your time is spent in the
same sort of endurance. Mr Spencer told us yes-
terday that Dr Eansom said he had cured himself of
dyspepsia by leaving off stimulants — ^the full benefit
manifesting itself after two or three months of ab-
stinence. I am going to try. All best regards to
Mr Congreve and tenderest sisterly love to yourself.

March 1. — I wrote an article for the * Pall Mall
Gazette ' — " A Word for the Germans."

March 12. — ^Went to Wandsworth, to spend the
Sunday and Monday with Mr and Mrs Congreve.
Feeling very ailing; in constant dull pain, which
makes all effort burthensome.

I did not promise, like Mr Collins, that you should
receive a letter of thanks for your kind entertaiur

1866.] Vidt to the Congreves, 399

ment of me ; but I feel the need of writing a word Letter to
or two to break the change from your presence to greve, leth
my complete absence from you. It was really an
enjoyment to be with you, in spite of the bodily
uneasiness which robbed me of half my mind. 0ne
thing only I regret — ^that in my talk with you I
think I w£is rather merciless to other people. What-
ever vices I have, seem to be exaggerated by my
malaise — such " chastening " not answering the pur-
pose of purification in my case. Pray set down any
unpleasant notions I have suggested about others to
my account — i.e., as being my unpleasantness, and
not theirs. When one is bilious, other people's
complexions look yellow, and one of their eyes
higher than the other — all the fault of one's own
evil interior. I long to hear from you that you are
better, and if you are not better, still to hear from
you before too long an interval. Mr Congreve's
condition is really cheering, and he goes about with
me as a pleasant picture — like that Eafifaelle the
Tuscan duke chose always to carry with him.

I got worse after I left you; but to-day I am
better, and begin to think there is nothing serious
the matter with me except the " weather," which
every one else is alleging as the cause of their
symptoms.

400 Thoughts on Early Death, [the peiory,

Letter to I bcUeve you are one of the few who can under-

Mrs Bny,

18th March Stand that in certain crises direct expression of

1865.

sympathy is the least possible to those who most
feel sympathy. If I could have been with you in
bodily presence, I should have sat silent, thinking
silence a sign of feeling that speech, trying to be
wise, must always spoil. The truest things one can
say about great Death are the oldest, simplest
things that everybody knows by rote, but that no
one knows really till death has come very close.
And when that inward teaching is going on, it seems
pitiful presumption for those who are outside to be
saying anything. There is no such thing as conso-
lation when we have made the lot of another our
own. I don't know whether you strongly share, as
I do, the old belief that made men say the gods
loved those who died young. It seems to me truer
than ever, now life has become more complex, and
more and more difi&cult problems have to be worked
out. life, though a good to men on the whole, is a
doubtful good to many, and to some not a good at
all. To my thought, it is a source of constant men-
tal distortion to make the denial of this a part of
religion — to go on pretending things are better than
they are. To me early death takes the aspect of
salvation ; though I feel, too, that those who live and

1865.] Mr Lewes' s Buoyant Ncdure, 401

suffer may sometimes have the greater blessedness Letter to

Mrs Bray, '

of Immg a salvation. But I will not write of judg- isth March
ments and opmions. What I want my letter to
tell you is that I love you truly, gratefully, im-
changeably.
March 25. — I am in deep depression, feeling power- Joumai,

1865

less. I have written nothing but beginnings since I
finished a little article for the ' Pall Mall,' on the
"Logic of Servants." Dear Gteorge is all activity,
yet is in very frail health. How I worship his good
humour, his good sense, his afifectionate care for
every one who has claims on him ! That worship
is my best life.

March 29. — Sent a letter on " Futile Lying," from
Saccharissa, to the 'Pall Mall.'

I have begun a novel (' Felix Holt ').

We are wondering if, by any coincidence or con- Letter to

Mrs Con-
dition of things, you could come to us on Thursday, greve. nth

April 1865.

when we have our last evening party — wondering
how you are — ^wondering everything about you,
and knowing nothing. Could you resolve some of
our wonderings into cheering knowledge? It is
ages since you made any sign to us. Are we to be
blamed, or you ? I hope you are not imf avourably
affected by the sudden warmth which comes with
the beautiful sunshine. Some word of you, in pity !
VOL. II. 2 c

402

Article on Lc^iky, [the prioky.

Letter to
Mrs Con-
greve, 22d
April 1865.

Jonmal,
1865.

Letter to
MrsCk)!!-
greve, 11th
May 1865.

If the sun goes on shining in this glorious way,
I shall think of your journey with pleasure. The
sight of the country Twust be a good when the trees
are bursting into leaf. But I will remember your
warning to Emily, and not insist too much on the
advantages of paying visits. Let us hear of you
sometimes, and think of us as very busy and very-
happy, but always including you in our world, and
getting uneasy when we are left too much to our
imaginations about you. Tell Emily that Ben and
I are the better for having seen her. He has added
to his store of memories, and will recognise her
when she comes again.

May 4. — Sent an article on Lecky*s ' History of
Eationalism' for the 'Fortnightly.' For nearly a
fortnight I have been, ill, one way or other.

May 10. — Finished a letter of Saccharissa for the
*Pall Mali; Eeading ^Eschylus, 'Theatre of the
Greeks,' Klein's ' History of the Drama,' &c.

This note will greet you on your return, and tell
you that we were glad to hear of you in your
absence, even though the news was not of the
brightest. Next week we are going away — I don't
yet know exactly where; but it is firmly settled
that we start on Monday. It will be good for the
carpets, and it will be still better for us, who

1865.] The 'Fortnightly JReviewJ 403

need a wholesome shaking, even more than the Letter to

Mrs Con-
carpets do. greve, 11th

MftV 1865

The first number of the 'Eeview' was done with
last Monday, and will be out on the 15th. You
will be glad to hear that Mr Harrison's article is
excellent, but the " mull " which George declares to
be the fatality with all first numbers is so far in-
curred with regard to this very article, that from
overwhelming alarm at its length George put it
(perhaps too hastily) into the smaller type. I hope
the importance of the subject and the excellence of
the treatment will overcome that disadvantage.

Nurse all pleasant thoughts in your solitude, and
count our aflfection among them.

We have just returned from a five days' holiday Letter to

Miss Sara

at the coast, and are much invigorated by the tonic Henneii,

18th May

breezes. isos.

We have nothing to do with the * Fortnightly ' as
a money speculation. Mr Lewes has simply ac-
cepted the post of editor, and it was seemly that
I should write a little in it. But do not suppose
that I am going into periodical writing. And your
friendship is not required to read one syllable for
our sakes. On the contrary, you have my full
sympathy in abstaining. Eest in peace, dear Sara,
and finish your work, that you may have the sense

1865.

404 Beadi7igf(yr 'Felix Holt! [the priory,

of having spoken out what was within you. That
is really a good — I mean when it is done in all
seriousness and sincerity.
Journal, May 28. — ^Finished Bamford's ' Passages from the

life of a EadicaL' Have just begun again Mill's
'Political Economy/ and Comte's 'Social Science/
in Miss Martineau's edition.

June 7. — ^Finished 'Annual Eegister' for 1832.
Eeading Blackstone. Mill's second article on
" Comte/' to appear in the ' Westminster/ lent me
by Mr Spencer. My health has been better of
late.

June 15. — ^Eead again Aristotle's " Poetics " with
fresh admiration.

June 20. — Eead the opening of my novel to 6.
Yesterday we drove to Wandsworth. Walked
together on Wimbledon Common, in outer and
inner sunshine, as of old ; then dined with Mr and
Mrs Congreve, and had much pleasant talk.

JuTie 25. — Eeading English History, reign of
George III.; Shakspeare's "King John." Yester-
day G. dined at Greenwich with the multitude of
so-called writers for the 'Saturday.' He heard
much commendation of the ' Fortnightly,' especially
of Bagehot's articles, which last is reassuring after
Mr Trollope's strong objections.

1865.] PvUic Tributes,— Mill 405

July 3. — ^Went to hear the "Faust" at Covent jonmai,
Garden : Mario, Lucca, and Graziani. I was much
thrilled by the great symbolical situations, and by
the music — ^more, I think, than I had ever been
before.

July 9 (Sunday). — ^We had Browning, Huxley,
Mr Warren, Mr Bagehot, and Mr Crompton, and
talk was pleasant.

Success to the canvassing! It is "very meet Letter to

Mrs Peter

and right and your bounden duty" to be with Taylor, Sun-
day, lOth
Mr Taylor in this time of hard work, and I am juiyises.

glad that your health has made no impediment.
I should have liked to be present when you were
cheered. The expression of a common feeling by a
large mass of men, when the feeling is one of good-
will, moves me like music. A public tribute to
any man who has done the world a service with
brain or hand, has on me the effect of a great
religious rite, with pealing organ and full- voiced
choir.

I agree with you in your feeling about Mill.
Some of his works have been frequently my com-
panions of late, and I have been going through
many actions de grdce towards him. I am not
anxious that he should be in Parliament : thinkers
can do more outside than inside the House. But it

406 Despondency about 'Felix Holt' [the pbioby,

Letter to
Mrs Peter
Taylor, Sun-
day, 10th
July 1865.

Journal,
1865.

Letter to
Mrs Peter
Taylor, Ist
Aug. 1865.

would have been a fine precedent, and would have
made an epoch, for such a man to have been asked
for and elected solely on the ground of his mental
eminence. As it is, I suppose it is pretty certain
that he will not be elected.

I am glad you have been interested in Mr
Lewes's article. His great anxiety about the ' Fort-
nightly ' is to make it the vehicle for sincere writ-
ing — real contributions of opinion on important
topics. But it is more difficult than the inex-
perienced could imagine to get the sort of writing
which will correspond to that desire of his.

July 16. — Madame Bohn, niece of Professor
Scherer, called. She said certain things about
'Eomola' which showed that she had felt what I
meant my readers to feel. She said she knew the
book had produced the same effect on many others.
I wish I could be encouraged by this.

Jvly 22. — Sat for my portrait — I suppose for
the last time.

JvXy 23. — I am going doggedly to work at my
novel, seeing what determination can do in the
face of despair. Reading Neale's 'History of the
Puritans.'

I received yesterday the circular about the
Mazzini Fund. Mr Lewes and I would have liked

1865.] The Mazzini Fund. 407

to subscribe to a tribute to Mazzini, or to a fund Letter to
for his use, of which the application was defined Taylor, ist
and guaranteed by his own word. As it is, the
application of the desired fund is only intimated in
the vaguest manner by the Florentine committee.
The reflection is inevitable, that the application
may ultimately be the promotion of conspiracy, the
precise character of which is necessarily unknown
to subscribers. Now, though I believe there are
cases in which conspiracy may be a sacred, neces-
sary struggle against organised wrong, there are
also cases in which it is hopeless, and can produce
nothing but misery ; or needless, because it is not
the best means attainable of reaching the desired
end ; or unjustifiable, because it resorts to acts
which are more unsocial in their character than the
very wrong they are directed to extinguish : and in
these three supposable cases it seems to me that it
would be a social crime to further conspiracy even
by the impulse of a little finger, to which one may
well compare a small money subscription.

I think many persons to whom the circular
might be sent would take something like this view,
and would grieve, as we do, that a proposition in-
tended to honour Mazzini should come in a form to
which they cannot conscientiously subscribe.

408

The Congrefoes.

[the peiory.

Letter to
Mrs Peter
Taylor, Ist
Aug. 18d5.

Letter to
Mrs Con-
greve, 1st
Aug. 1865.

Journal,
1865.

Letter to
Mrs Con-
greve, 6th
Aug. 1865.

I trouble you and Mr Taylor with this explana-
tion, because both Mr Lewes and I have a real
reverence for Mazzini, and could not therefore be
content to give a silent negative.

I fear that my languor on Saturday pre-
vented me from fairly showing you how sweet and
precious your presence was to me then, as at all
times. We have almost made up our minds to
start some time in this month for a run in Nor-
mandy and Brittany. We both need the change;
though when I receive, as I did yesterday, a letter
from some friend telling me of cares and trials from
which I am quite free, I am ashamed of wanting
anything.

Aug. 2. — Finished the 'Agamemnon' second
time.

When I wrote to you last, I quite hoped that I
should see you and Emily before we left home;
but now it is settled that we start on Thursday
morning, and I have so many little things to re-
member and to do that I dare not set apart any
of the intervening time for the quiet enjoyment of
a visit from you. It is not quite so cheerful a
picture as I should like to carry with, me, that of
you and Emily so long alone, with Mr Congreve
working at Bradford. But your friends are sure

1865.] Trip to Brittany. 409

to think of you, and want to see you. I hope you Letter to

Mrs Con-
did not suffer so severely as we did from the arctic greve, eth

Aug. 1865.

cold that rushed in after the oppressive heat. Mr
T. Trollope came from Italy just when it began.
He says it is always the same when he comes to
England, — ^people always say it has just been very
hot, and he believes that means they had a few
days in which they were not obliged to blow on
their fingers.

When you write to Mr Congreve, pray tell him
that we were very grateful for his Itinerary, which
is likely to be useful to us — indeed, has already
been useful in determining our route.

Sept 7. — ^We returned home after an expedition Journal,

1866.

into Brittany. Our course was from Boulogne to
St Val^ry, Dieppe, Eouen, Caen, Bayeux, St L6,
Yire, Avranches, Dol, St Malo, Eennes, Avray,
and Camac, — back by Nantes, Tours, Le Mans,
Chartres, Paris, Eouen, Dieppe, Abbeville, and so
again to Boulogne.
We came home again on Thursday night — ^this Letter to

Miss Sara

day week — after a months absence in Normandy Henneu,

14th Sept.

and Brittany. I have been thinking of you very i865.
often since, but believed that you did not care to
have the interruption of letters just now, and would
rather defer correspondence till your mind was

410 Pretended Comforts. [the priory,

Letter to freer. If I had sfospected that you would feel any
Henneu, waut Satisfied by a letter, I should certainly have
^^^^'' written. I had not heard of Miss Bonham Carter's
death, else I should have conceived something of
your state of mind. I think you and I are alike
in this, that we can get no good out of pretended
comforts, which are the devices of self-love, but
would rather, in spite of pain, grow into the endur-
ance of all "naked truths." So I say no word
about your great loss, except that I love you, and
sorrow with you.

The circumstances of life — the changes that take
place in ourselves — ^hem in the expression of affec-
tions and memories that live within us, and enter
almost into every day, and long separations often
make intercourse difl&cult when the opportunity
comes. But the delight I had in you, and in the
hours we spent together, and in all your acts of
friendship to me, is really part of my life, and can
never die out of me. I see distinctly how much
poorer I should have been if I had never known
you. If you had seen more of me in late years,
you would not have such almost cruel thoughts as
that the book into which you have faithfully put
your experience and best convictions could make
you " repugnant " to me. Whatever else my growth

1865.] Affection for Mis8 Hennell. 411

may have been, it has not been towards irreverence Letter to

Miss Sara

and ready rejection of what other minds can give Henneu,
me. You once unhappily mistook my feeling and ises.
point of view in something I wrote apropos of an
argument in your 'Aids to Faith/ and that made
me think it better that we should not write on
large and difficult subjects in hasty letters. But
it has often been painful to me — I should say, it
has constantly been painful to me — ^that you have
ever since inferred me to be in a hard and unsym-
pathetic state about your views and your writing.
But I am habitually disposed myself to the same
unbelief in the sympathy that is given me, and am
the last person who should be allowed to complain
of such unbelief in another. And it is very likely
that I may have been faulty and disagreeable in
my expressions.

Excuse all my many mistakes, dear Sara, and
never believe otherwise than that I have a glow of
joy when you write to me, as if my existence were
some good to you. I know that I am, and can be,
very little practically ; but to have the least value for
your thought is what I care much to be assured of.

Perhaps, in the cooler part of the autumn, when
your book is out of your hands, you will like to move
from home a little and see your London friends ?

412 Goethe on Spinoza, [the PRIORY,

Letter to OuT travelling in Brittany was a good deal

Miss Sara

Henneii, maned and obstructed by the Emperor's f^,

14th Sept. , . , „ ^ , , , ,

1865. which sent all the world on our track towards

Cherbourg and Brest. But the Norman churches,

the great cathedrals at Le Mans, Tours, and Char-

tres, with their marvellous painted glass, were

worth much scrambling to see.

Letter to J ji^ve read Mr Masson's book on 'Eecent Phil-

Miss Sara

Henneu, osophy.' The earlier part is a useful and credit-

28th Oct. ^ ^ ^

1865. able survey, and the classification ingenious. The

later part I thought poor. If, by what he says of
Positivism, you mean what he says at p. 246, I
should answer it is simply "stuff" — ^he might as
well have written a dozen lines of jargon. There
are a few observations about Comte, scattered here
and there, which are true and just enough. But it
seems to me much better to read a man's own writ-
ing than to read what others say about him, especi-
ally when the man is first-rate and the " others "
are third-rate. As Goethe said long ago about
Spinoza, " Ich zog immer vor von dem Menschen
zu erfahren wie er dachte als von einem anderen
zu horen vde er hdtte denjcen sollen,"^ However, I
am not fond of expressing criticism or disapproba-

1 " I always preferred to learn from the man himself what ?ie thought,
rather than to hear from some one else what lie ought to have thought,**

1865.] Mrs GaskelVs Death. 413

tion. The difficulty is to digest and live upon any
valuable truth one's self.

Nov. 15. — ^During the last three weeks George Journal

1865.

has been very poorly, but now he is better. I have
been reading Fawcett's * Economic Condition of the
Working Classes/ Mill's 'liberty,' looking into
Strauss's second * life of Jesus,' and reading Neale's
' History of the Puritans,' of which I have reached
the fourth volume. Yesterday the news came of
Mrs Gaskell's death. She died suddenly whUe
reading aloud to her daughter.

Nov. 16. — ^Writing Mr Lyon's story, which I have
determined to insert as a narrative. Eeading the
Bible.

Nov. 24 — ^Finished Neale's * History of the Puri-
tans.' Began Hallam's ' Middle Ages.'

Dec. 4. — ^Finished second volimie of Hallam. The
other day read to the end of chapter ix. of my
novel to George, who was much pleased, and found
no fault.

We send to-day ' Orley Farm,' ' The Small House Letter to

Mrs Con-

at AUington,' and * The Story of Elizabeth.' ' The greve, 4th

Dec. 1865.

Small House ' is rather lighter than ' Orley Farm.'
' The Story of Elizabeth ' is by Miss Thackeray. It
is not so cheerful as Trollope, but is charmingly
written. You can taste it and reject it if it is too

414 Tyndall on the Higher Physics, [the priory,

melancholy. I think more of you than you are

likely to imagine, and I believe we talk of you all

more than of any other mortals.

Letter to It is worth your while to send for the last * Fort-

Miss sara
Henneu,7th nightly' to read an article of Professor Tyndall's

Dec. 1865.

"On the Constitution of the Universe." It is a
splendid piece of writing on the higher physics,
which I know will interest you. Apropos of the
feminine intellect, I had a bit of experience with
a superior woman the other day, which reminded
me of Sydney Smith's story about his sermon on
the Being of a God. He says, that after he had
delivered his painstaking argument, an old parish-
ioner said to him, " I don't agree wi' you, Mr Smith ;
/ think there be a God"
Journal, Dec. 11. — For the last three days I have been

1865.

foundering from a miserable state of head. I have
written chapter x. This evening read again Mac-
aulay's Introduction.

Dec, 15. — To-day is the first for nearly a week
on which I have been able to write anything fresh.
I am reading Macaulay and Blackstone. This even-
ing we went to hear the " Messiah " at Exeter Hall.
Letter to "A merry Christmas and a Happy New Year"

MiAS Sara

Heimeii, is a sort of hieroglyph for I love you and wish you

2l8t Dec.

1865. well all the year round. Christmas to me is like

1865.] Last Days of 1866. 415

a great many other pleasures, which I am glad to Letter to

_ _ _ , - 1 ,. , Miss Sara

miagine as enjoyed by others, but have no delight Henneu,

2l8t Dec.

in myself. Berried holly, and smiling faces, and ises.
snapdragon, grandmamma and the children, turkey
and plum-pudding, — ^they are all precious things,
and I would not have the world without them;
but they tire me a little. I enjoy the common days
of the year more. But for the sake of those who
are stronger, I rejoice in Christmas.

Dec. 24. — For two days I have been sticking in joumai,
the mud from doubt about my construction. I have
just consulted G., and he confirms my choice of
incidents.

Dec. 31.— The last day of 1865. I will say noth-
ing but that I trust — I will strive — to add more
ardent effort towards a good result from all the
outward good that is given to me. My health is
at a lower ebb than usual, and so is George's.
Bertie is spending his holidays with us, and shows
hopeful characteristics. Charles is happy.

416 Summary of Chapter XII. [1862-

SUMMART.
JANUARY 1862 TO DECEMBER 1865.

Begins ^Romola' again — Letter to Miss Hennell — Max
Mtiller's book— * Orley Farm '—Anthony TroUope— T. A.
TroUope's * Beata * — ^Acquaintance with Mr Burton and Mr
W. G. Clark — George Smith, publisher, suggests a " magnifi-
cent offer" — Depression about * Romola ' — Letter to Mrs Bray
asking for loan of music — Pantomime — First visit to Dork-
ing — Letter to Madame Bodichon — Impatience of conceal-
ment — Anxiety about war with America — Sympathy with
Queen — Mr Lewes begins * History of Science * — Mrs Brown-
ing's "Casa Guidi Windows" — Depression — George Smith
offers £10,000 for 'Romola' for the 'Comhill'— Idea given
up — Visit to Englefield Green — "Working under a weight —
Second visit to Dorking for three weeks — Delight in spring —
Accepts £7000 for * Romola' in * Comhill' — Regret at leaving
Blackwood — Palsy in writing — Visit to Littlehampton and
to Dorking third time — Letter to Mrs Congreve — Mr Lewes
at Spa — George Eliot in better spirits — Letter to Miss
Hennell — Joachim's playing — New Literary Club — Reading
Poliziano — Suggestion of Tennyson's " Palace of Art" — ^Visit
from Browning — ^Depression — Letter to Madame Bodichon
— No negative propaganda — Letter to Mrs Peter Taylor —
The " Messiah " on Christmas Day — Letter to Miss Hennell —
St Paul's " Charity "—The Poetry of Christianity— The Bible
— Adieu to year 1862 — Letter to Miss Hennell — Encourage-
ment about *Romola' — Literary Club dissolves — Miss Cobbe —
Letter to Mrs Congreve — Depression — Fourth visit to Dorking
for fortnight — Letter to Charles Lewes on Thackeray's Lec-
tures — The effect of writing 'Romola' — Letter to Madame
Bodichon — Odiousness of intellectual superciliousness —

1865.] Summary of Chapter XIL 417

Letter to Mrs Bray — Thinking of the Priory — ' Romola' fin-
ished — Inscription — Visit to Isle of "Wight — Eistori — Letter
to Miss Hennell — Thornton Lewes — London amusements —
Opera — Reading Mommsen, Liddell's * Rome/ and * Roba di
Roma' — Letter from Frederick Maurice referred to as most
generous tribute ever given — Letter to Mrs Peter Taylor —
Renan's * Vie de J^sus ' — ^Visit to Worthing — Mrs Hare — Re-
turn to London — Depression — Letter to R. H. Hutton on
'Romola' — ^The importance of the medium in which charac-
ters move — Letter to Madame Bodichon — Effect of London
on health — Letter to Mrs Bray — Delight in autumn — Momm-
sen's History — Letter to Mrs Congreve — * The Discours Pr6-
liminaire * — Removal to the Priory — Mr Owen Jones decor-
ates the house — Jansa the violinist — Letter to Mrs Bray —
* Physiology for Schools ' — Letter to Madame Bodichon — En-
joying rest, and music with Jansa — Letter to Miss Hennell
— Renan — Letter to Mrs Bray — Enjoyment of Priory — Let-
ter to Mrs Congreve — Mr Lewes*s * Aristotle' finished — Letter
to Mrs Peter Taylor — Compensation — Letter to Mrs P. A.
Taylor — Effect of sunshine — Death of Mrs Hare — " David
Gray " — Letter to Miss Hennell — Dislike of note writing —
Visit to Scotland — Letter to Mrs Peter Taylor — Joy in Fed-
eral successes — Crystal Palace to see Garibaldi — Mr Burton's
picture of a Legendary Knight in Armour — Third Visit to
Italy with Mr Burton for seven weeks — Return to London
— Charles Lewes's engagement to Miss Gertrude Hill —
Pleasure in Mr Burton*s companionship in travel — Letter to
Mrs Congreve — Present of mats — Depression — Reading
Gibbon — Gieseler — Letter to Miss Hennell — Reading Max
Mtiller — Reference to the * Apologia' — Newman — Reading
about Spain — Trying a drama — Letter to Miss Hennell —
Harrogate — Development of Industries — Scarborough —
Letters to Mrs Congreve — Pleasure in her visit — Letter to
Miss Hennell — Learning Spanish — Two Acts of drama
VOL. II. 2 D

418 Sumrrhary of Chapter XIL [1862-65.]

written — Sticking in constrjiction of remainder — Letter to
Mrs Congreve — Christmas greeting — Retrospect of year
1864 — Letter to Mrs Congreve — First payment to Positivist
Fund — Comparison with "small upper room" 1866 years
ago — Mrs Congreve staying at The Priory — Poem "My
Vegetarian Friend " written — Visit to Paris — Letter to Mrs
Congreve — Visit to Comte's apartment in Paris — ^Finished
Poem on " Utopias " — Letter to Miss Sara Hennell — Delight
in dual solitude — * Fortnightly Review' — Letter to Mrs Con-
greve — Charades — ^Depression — Mr Lewes takes away drama
—Article for the ' PaU Mall/ « A Word for the Germans "—
Letter to Mrs Congreve — Visit to Wandsworth — Depression
— Letter to Mrs Congreve after visit — Letter to Mrs Bray on
a young friend's death — Deep depression — ^Admiration of
Mr Lewes's good spirits — ^ Felix Holt' begun — ^Article on
Lecky's 'History of Rationalism' in * Fortnightly ' — Reading
-^schylus, 'Theatre of the Greeks '—Klein's 'History of the
Drama/ — Letter to Mrs Congreve — First number of the
'Fortnightly' — Frederic Harrison's article — Reading Mill,
Comte, and Blackstone — Aristotle's "Poetics" — Dine with
Congreves at Wandsworth — Faust at Covent Garden — Sunday
reception — Browning — Huxley and Bagehot — Mr Burton's
portrait finished — Letter to Mrs Peter Taylor on J. S. Mill —
The ' Fortnightly Review ' — Mazzini subscription — Letter of
adieu to Mrs Congreve — Expedition to Brittany for month —
Letter to Miss Hennell — "Pretended comforts" — Recollec-
tion of early feelings — Delight in her friendship — Masson's
'Recent Philosophy'— Comte — Gbethe on Spinoza — ^Read-
ing Fawcett's ' Economic Condition of Working Classes ' —
Mill's ' Liberty ' — Strauss's second ' Life of Jesus ' — Neale's
'History of the Puritans ' — Hallam's 'Middle Ages' —
Letter to Miss Hennell on Tyndall's article on "The
Constitution of the Universe" — View of Christmas Day
— Retrospect of 1865.

419

CHAPTEE XIII.

I HAVE had it in my mind to write to you for Letter

Frederic

many days, wantmg to tell you, yet feeling there Harrison,

, , 5th Jan.

might be some impertinence in doing so, of the 1866.
delight and gratitude I felt in reading your article
on Industrial Co-operation. Certain points admir-
ably brought out in that article would, I think, be
worth the labour of a life if one could help in
winning them thorough recognition. I don't mean
that my thinking so is of any consequence, but
simply that it is of consequence to me when
I find your energetic writing confirm my own
faith.

It would be fortunate for us if you had nothing
better to do than look in on us on Tuesday evening.
Professor Huxley will be with us, and one or two
others whom you know, and your presence would
make us all the brighter.

Journal,

Jan, 9. — Professors Huxley and Beesley, Mr isee.

420 Mr HarrisorCs Legal Hdp. [the priory,

Burton and Mr Spencer, dined with us. Mr Har-
rison in the evening.
Letter to The ample and clear statement you have sent me

Frederic

Harrison, with kind promptucss has put me in high spirits

12th Jan. , , , . .

1866. — as high spints as can belong to an unhopeful

author. Your hypothetical case of a settlement
suits my needs surprisingly welL I shall be thank-
ful to let Sugden alone, and throw myself entirely
on your goodness, especially as what I want is
simply a basis of legal possibilities, and not any
command of details. I want to be sure that my
chords will not offend a critic accomplished in
thorough-bass — not at all to present an exercise
in thorough-bass.

I was going to write you a long story, but on
consideration it seems to me that I should tax
your time less, and arrive more readily at a resolu-
tion of my doubts on various points not yet men-
tioned to you, if you could let me speak instead of
writing to you.

On Wednesday afternoons I am always at home
but on any day when I could be sure of your com-
ing, I would set everything aside for the sake of a
consultation so valuable to me.
jonmai, Jan. 20. — For the last fortnight I have been

1866.

unusually disabled by ill health. I have been con-

1866.] Mr HarrisorCs Sympathy, 421

suiting Mr Harrison about the law in my book with
satisfactory result.

I had not any opportunity, or not enough pres- Letter to

Frederic

ence of mind, to tell you yesterday how much I felt Harrison,

_ . _ . . . 1 , ,. , 22dJan.

your kindness m wntmg me that last httle note isee.
of sympathy.

In proportion as compliments (always beside the
mark) are discouraging and nauseating, at least to
a writer who has any serious aims, genuine words
from one capable of understanding one's concep-
tions are precious and strengthening.

Yet I have no confidence that the book will ever
be worthily written. And now I have something
else to ask. It is, that if anything strikes you as
untrue in cases where my drama has a bearing on
momentous questions, especially of a public nature,
you will do me the great kindness to tell me of
your doubts.

On a few moral points, which have been made
clear to me by my experience, I feel sufficiently
confident, — without such confidence I could not
write at all. But in every other direction I am
so much in need of fuller instruction, as to be
constantly under the sense that I am more likely
to be wrong than right.

Hitherto I have read my MS. (I mean of my

422 Reading Comte's ' Synthase.' [tunbridge wells.

Letter to

Frederic

Harrison,

22dJan.

1866.

Letter to
Mrs Con-
greve, 28th
Jan. 1866.

Letter to
Frederic
Harrison,
31st Jan.
1866.

previous books) to Mr Lewes, by forty or fifty-
pages at a time, and he has told me if he felt an
objection to anything. No one else has had any
knowledge of my writings before their publication.
(I except, of course, the publishers.)

But now that you are good enough to incur the
trouble of reading my MS., I am anxious to get the
full benefit of your participation.

We arrived here on Tuesday, and have been
walking about four hours each day, and the walks
are so various that each time we have turned out
we have f oimd a new one. George is already much
the better for the perfect rest, quiet, and fresh air.
Will you' give my thanks to Mr Congreve for the
* Synthase,' which I have brought with me and am
reading? I expect to understand three chapters
well enough to get some edification.

George had talked of our taking the train to
Dover to pay you a "morning call." He ob-
serves that it would have been a "dreadful sell"
if we had done so. Your letter, therefore, was pro-
vidential — ^and without doubt it came from a dear
little Providence of mine that sits in your heart.

I have received both your precious letters — the
second edition of the case, and the subsequent note.
The story is sufficiently in the track of ordinary

1866.] "A Case " for 'Felix Holt: 423

probability; and the careful trouble you have so Letter to

. . I t t fit Frederic

generously given to it, has enabled me to feel a Harrison,

81st Jan.

satisfaction in my plot which beforehand I had isee.
sighed for as unattainable.

There is still a question or two which I shall
want to ask you, but I am afraid of taxing your
time and patience in an unconscionable manner.
So, since we expect to return to town at the end
of next week, I think I will reserve my questions
until I have the pleasure and advantage of an
interview with you, in which pros and cons can
be more rapidly determined than by letter. It
seems to me that you have fitted my phenomena
with a rationale quite beautifully. If there is
any one who could have done it better, I am sure
I know of no man who would. Please to put
your help of me among your good deeds for this
year of 1866.

To-day we have resolute rain, for the first time
since we came down. You don't yet know what it
is to be a sickly wretch, dependent on these skiey
influences. But Heine says illness "spiritualises
the members." It had need do some good in
return for one's misery. Letter to

Miss Sara

Thanks for your kind letter. Alas! we had Henneii,

12tli Feb.

chiefly bad weather in the country. George was a isee.

424 Low Hecdih, [the priory.

Letter to little benefited, but only a little. He is too far

Miss Sara , „ , , . i .

Henneii, " lun Qown to be wound up in a very short time.

12th Feb. ,,^ . , i. , i i

1866. We enjoyed our return to our comfortable house,

and perhaps that freshness of home was the chief
gain from our absence.

You see, to counterbalance all the great and
good things that life has given us beyond what our
fellows have, we hardly know now what it is to be
free from bodily malaise.

After the notion I have given you of my health,
you will not wonder if I say that I don't know
when anjrthing of mine will appear. I can never
reckon on myself.

Journal, Maxch 7. — I am reading Mill's 'Logic' again.

1866.

Theocritus still, and English History and Law.

March 17. — To St James's Hall hearing Joachim,
Piatti, and Hall^ in glorious Beethoven music.
Letter to Dou't think any evil of me for not writing. Just

Miss Sara °

Henneii, 9th now the days are short, and art is long to artists

April 1866.

With feeble bodies. If people don't say expressly
that they want anything from me, I easily conclude
that they will do better without me, and have a good
weight of idleness, or rather bodily fatigue, which
puts itself into the scale of modesty. I torment
myself less with fruitless regrets that my particular
life has not been more perfect. The young things

1866.] Writing under Difficulties. 425

are growing, and to me it is not melancholy but Letter to

Ml88 Sara

joyous that the world will be brighter after I am Henneu, 9th

April 1866.

gone than it has been in the bnef time of my exist-
ence. You see my pen runs into very old reflec-
tions. The fact is, I have no details to tell that
would much interest you. It is true that I am
going to bring out another book, but just when is
not certain.

The happiness in your letter was delightful to Letter to

Madame

me, as you guessed it would be. See how much Bodichon,
better things may turn out for aU mankind, since Z"'""
they mend for single mortals even in this confused
state of the bodies social and politic.

As soon as we can leave we shall go away, prob-
ably to Germany, for six Weeks or so. But that
will not be till June. I am finishing a book which
has been growing slowly like a sickly child, because
of my own ailments; but now I am in the later
acts of it, I can't move till it is done.

You know all the news, public and private — all
about the sad cattle plague, and the Eeform Bill,
and who is going to be married and who is dead.
So I need tell you nothing. You will find the
English world extremely like what it was when you
left it — conversation more or less trivial and insin-
cere, literature just now not much better, and poli-

426 *'The Art of Living" [the priory.

Letter to tics worsc than either. Bring some sincerity and

Madame

Bodichon, energy to make a little draught of pure air in your

lOth April

1866. particular world. I shall expect you to be a heroine

in the best sense, now you are happier after a time
of suflfering. See what a talent I have for telling
other people to be good !

We are getting patriarchal, and think of old age
and death as journeys not far ofif. All knowledge,
all thought, all achievement seems more precious
and enjoyable to me than it ever was before in life.
But as soon as one has found the key of life, " it
opes the gates of death." Youth has not learned
the art of living, and we go on bungling till our
experience can only serve us for a very brief space.
That is the " external order " we must submit to.

I am too busy to write except when I am tired,
and don't know very well what to say, so you must
not be surprised if I write in a dreamy way.

Journal, Atml 21. — Scut MS. of two volumcs to Black-

1866.

wood.

April 25. — Blackwood has written to offer me
£5000 for 'Felix Holt.' I have been ailing, and
uncertain in my strokes, and yesterday got no fur-
ther than p. 52 of vol. iii.

Letter to

John Black- It is a great pleasure to me to be writing to you

wood, 26th

April 1866. again, as in the old days. After your kind letters,

1866.] Return to Blackwood's. 427

I am chiefly anxious that the publication of * Felix Letter to

TT 1 » i • i» 1 • • John Black-

Holt may be a satisfaction to you from begmmng wood, 25th

^ April 1866.

to end.

Mr Lewes writes about other business matters,
so I will only say that I am desirous to have the
proofs as soon and as rapidly as will be practicable.

They will require correcting with great care, and
there are large spaces in the day when I am unable
to write, in which I could be attending to my
proofs.

I think I ought to tell you that I have consulted
a legal friend about my law, to guard against errors.
The friend is a Chancery barrister, who " ought to
know."

After I had written the first volume, I applied to
him, and he has since read through my MS.

How very good it was of you to write me a letter Letter to
which IS a guarantee to me of the pleasantesb kind wood, 27th

April 1866.

that I have made myself understood.

The tone of the prevalent literature jusb now is
not encouraging to a writer who at least wishes to
be serious and sincere ; and, owing to my want of
health, a great deal of this book has been written
under so much depression as to its practical efifec-
tiveness, that I have sometimes been ready to give
it up.

428 Pains taken with * Felix HoW [the priory,
Letter to Your letter has made me feel, more strongly than

John Black*

wood, 27th any other testhnony, that it would have been a pity

April 1866.

if I had listened to the tempter Despondency. I
took a great deal of pains to get a true idea of the
period. My own recollections of it are childish,
and of course disjointed, but they help to illu-
minate my reading. I went through the ' Times ' of
1832-33 at the British Museum, to be sure of as
many details as I could. It is amazing what strong
language was used in those days, especially about
the Church. " Bloated pluralists," " Stall-fed digni-
taries," &c., are the sort of phrases conspicuous.
There is one passage of prophecy which I longed
to quote, but I thought it wiser to abstain : " Now,
the beauty of the Eeform Bill is, that under its
mature operation the people must and will become
free agents" — a prophecy which I hope is true,
only the maturity of the operation has not arrived
yet.

Mr Lewes is well satisfied with the portion of
the third volume already written; and as I am
better in health just now, I hope to go on with
spirit, especially with the help of your cordial
sympathy. I trust you will see, when it comes,
that the third volume is the natural issue pre-
pared for by the first and second.

1866.] Flight to Dorking. 429

A thousand thanks for your note. Do not worry Letter to

, Frederic

yourself so much about those two questions that HmTison,

27th April

you will be forced to hate me. On Tuesday next isoe.
we are to go to Dorking for probably a fortnight.
I wished you to read the first 100 pages of my
third volume ; but I fear now that I must be content
to wait and send you a duplicate proof of a chapter
or two that are likely to make a lawyer shudder by
their poetic licence. Please to be in great distress
some time for want of my advice, and tease me
considerably to get it, that I may prove my grate-
ful memory of these days.

To-morrow we go — ^Mr Lewes's bad health driv- Letter to

, John Black-

ing US — to Dorking, where everything will reach wood,80th

• n • T J Aprill866

me as quickly as m London.

I am in a horrible fidget about certain points
which I want to be sure of in correcting my proof a
They are chiefly two questions. I wish to know —

1. Whether in Napoleon's war with England, after
the breaking up of the Treaty of Amiens, the seizure
and imprisonment of civilians was exceptional, or
whether it was continued throughout the war ?

2. Whether in 1833, in the case of transportation
to one of the colonies, when the sentence did not
involve hard labour, the sentenced person might be
at large on his arrival in the colony ?

430

'Fdix Holt * Finished, [the priory.

Letter to
John Black-
wood, 30th
Apra 1866.

Journal,
1866.

Letter to
MrsCon-
greve, 5th
June 1866.

It is possible you may have some one near at
hand who will answer these questions. I am sure
you will help me if you can, and will sympathise in
my anxiety not to have even an allusion that in-
volves practical impossibilities.

One can never be perfectly accurate, even with
one's best eflfort, but the efifort must be made.

May 31.— Finished 'Felix Holt.'

The manuscript bears the following inscrip-
tion : —
"From George EKot to her dear Husband,
this thirteenth year of their united life, in which
the deepening sense of her own imperfectness
has the consolation of their deepening love."

My last hope of seeing you before we start has
vanished. I find that the things urged upon me
to be done, in addition to my own small matters of
preparation, will leave me no time to enjoy any-
thing that I should have chosen if I had been at
leisure. Last Thursday only I finished writing, in
a state of nervous excitement that had been mak*
ing my head throb and my heart palpitate all the
week before. As soon as I had finished I felt well.
You know how we had counted on a parting sight
of you ; and I should have particularly Uked to see
Emily, and witness the good effect of Derbyshire.

1866.] Bebovmd in Health, 431

But send us a word or two if you can, just to say Letter to

Mrs Con-
how you all three are. We start on Thursday even- greve, 5th

June 1866.

ing for Brussels. Then to Antwerp, The Hague,
and Amsterdam. Out of Holland we are to find
our way to Schwalbach. Let your love go with us,
as mine will hover about you and all yours — ^that
group of three which the word "Wandsworth"
always means for us.

I finished writing ['Felix Holt'] on the last day Letter to

Mrs Bray,

of May, after days and nights of throbbing and 5th June

1866.

palpitation — chiefly, I suppose, from a nprvous
excitement which I was not strong enough to sup-
port well. As soon as I had done I felt better,
and have been a new creature ever since, though
a little overdone with visits from friends, and
attention (miseraMle dictu!) to petticoats, &c.

I can't help being a little vexed that the course
of things hinders my having the great delight
of seeing you again — during this visit to town.
Now that my mind is quite free, I don't know
anything I should have chosen sooner than to
have a long, long, quiet day with you.

JuTie 7. — Set ofif on our journey to Holland. Joumai,

I wish you could know how idle I feel — how Letter to
utterly disinclined to anjrthing but mere self- greve, 25th
indulgence — ^because that knowledge would enable

432 Description. [schwalbach,

Letter to jou to estimate the afifection and anxiety which

Mm Con-

greve,25th prompt me to wnte in spite of disinclination.
June is so far gone, that by the time you get this
letter you will surely have some result of the
examination to tell me of; and I can't bear to
deprive myself of that news by not letting you
know where we are. " In Paradise," (Jeorge says ;
but the Paradise is in the fields and woods of beech
and fir, where we walk in uninterrupted solitude
in spite of the excellent roads and delightful
resting-places, which seem to have been prepared
for visitors in general The promenade, where the
ladies — chiefly Eussian and German, with only a
small sprinkling of English and Americans — display
their ornamental petticoats and various hats, is only
the outskirt of Paradise; but we amuse ourselves
there for an hour or so in the early morning and
evening, listening to the music and learning the
faces of our neighbours. There is a deficiency of
men, children, and dogs: otherwise the winding
walks, the luxuriant trees and grass, and the
abundant seats of the promenade, have every charm
one can expect at a German bath. We arrived
here last Thursday, after a fortnight spent in
Belgium and Holland; and we still fall to inter-
jections of delight whenever we walk out — first

1866.] The Austro-Prusdan War. 433

at the beauty of the place, and next at our own Letter to

Mrs Ck>ii<

happiness in not having been frightened away greve,25tii

June 1860.

from it by the predictions of travellers and hotel-
keepers, that we should find no one here — that
the Prussians would break up the railways, &c.,
&c. — Nassau being one of the majority of small
States who are against Prussia. I fear we are a
little in danger of becoming like the Burger in
" Faust," and making it too much the entertainment
of our holiday to have a

" Gesprach von Krieg und Kriegsgeschrei
Wenn hinten, weit, in der Tiirkei,
Die Volker auf einander schlagen."

Idle people are so eager for newspapers that tell
them of other people's energetic enthusiasm! A
few soldiers are quartered here, and we see them
wisely using their leisure to drink at the Brunnen.
They are the only suggestion of war that meets
our eyes among these woody hills. Already we feel
great benefit from our quiet journeying and repose.
Gteorge is looking remarkably well, and seems to
have nothing the matter with him. You know
how magically quick his recoveries seem. I am
too refined to say anything about our excellent
quarters and good meals; but one detail, I know,
will touch your sympathy. We dine in our own

VOL. II. 2 E

434 Enjoyment of PHvacy. [the priory,

Letter to room ! It would have marred the Kur for me if

Mrs Oon-

greve, 25th I had had every day to undergo a talle dJhdte where

June 1866,

from almost all the guests are English, presided over by

Schwalbach.

the British chaplain. Please don't suspect me of
being scornful towards my fellow country men or
women : the fault is all mine that I am miserably
gMe by the glances of strange eyes.

We want news from you to complete our satis-
faction, and no one can give it but yourself. Send
us as many matter-of-fact details as you have the
patience to write. We shaU not be here after the
4th, but at Schlangenbad.
Letter to We got homc last night, after a rough passage

Mrs Con-

greve, 3d from Ostcud. You have been so continually a

Aug. 1866. "^

recurrent thought to me ever since I had your
letter at Schwalbach, that it is only natural I
should write to you as soon as I am at my old
desk again. The news of Mr Congreve's exam-
ination being over made me feel for several days
that something had happened, which caused me
unusual lightness of heart. I would not dwell
on the possibility of your having to leave Wands-
worth, which, I know, would cause you many
sacrifices. I clung solely to the great cheering
fact that a load of anxiety had been lifted from
Mr Congreve's mind. May we not put in a petition

1866.] Return Home from Schwalbach, 435

for some of his time now ? And will he not come Letter to
with you and Emily to dine with us next week, greve, 3d
on any day except Wednesday and Friday ? The ^'
dinner -hour seems more propitious for talk and
enjoyment than lunch -time; but in all respects
choose what will best suit your health and habits
nly let us see you.

We returned from our health - seeking journey Letter to

Frederic

on Thursday evening, and your letter was the Harrison,

4th Aug. ■

most delightful thing that awaited me at home. isee.
Be sure it will be much read and meditated ; and
may I not take it as an earnest that your help,
which has already done so much for me, will be
continued? I mean, that you will help me by
your thoughts and your sympathy — ^not that you
will be teased with my proofs.

I meant to write you a long letter about the
aesthetic problem : but Mr Lewes, who is still tor-
mented with headachy effects from our rough passage,
comes and asks me to walk to Hampstead with him,
so I send these hasty lines. Come and see us soon.

We got home on Thursday evening, and are still Letter to
feeling some unpleasant effects from our very rough wood, 4th
passage — ^an inconvenience which we had waited
some days at Ostend to avoid. But the wind
took no notice of us, and went on blowing.

436

Colonel RaTrdey, [the priory,

Letter to
John Black-
wood, 4th
Aug. 1866.

Letter to
Miss Sara
Hennell,
10th Aug.

I was much pleased with the handsome appear-
ance of the three volumes, which were lying ready
for me. My hatred of bad paper and bad print,
and my love of their opposites, naturally get
stronger as my eyes get weaker; and certainly
that taste could hardly be better gratified than
it is by Messrs Blackwood & Sons.

Colonel Hamley's volume is another example of
that fact. It lies now on my revolving desk as
one of the books I mean first to read. I am
really grateful to have such a medium of know-
ledge, and I expect it to make some pages of
history much less dim to me.

My impression of Colonel Hamley, when we
had that pleasant dinner at Greenwich, and after-
wards when he called in Blandford Square, was
quite in keeping with the high opinion you ex-
press. Mr Lewes liked the article on 'Felix' in
the Magazine very much. He read it the first
thing yesterday morning, and told me it was
written in a nice spirit, and the extracts judicious-
ly made.

I have had a delightful holiday, and find my
double self very much the better for it. We made
a great round in our journeying. From Antwerp
to Eotterdam, The Hague, Leyden, Amsterdam, Col-

1866.] The Mirade Play. 437

ogne; then up the Ehine to Coblentz, and thence Letter to

Miss Sara

to Schwalbach, where we stayed a fortnight. From Henneu,
Schwalbach to Schlangenbad, where we stayed till isee.
we feared the boats would cease to go to and fro ;
and in fact, only left just in time to get down the
Rhine to Bonn by the Dutch steamer. From Bonn,
after two days, we went to Aix ; then to dear old
Lifege, where we had been together thirteen years
before : and, to avoid the King of the Belgians, ten
minutes backwards to the baths of. pretty Chaud-
fontaine, where we remained three days. Then to
Louvain, Ghent, and Bruges; and, last of all, to
Ostend, where we waited for a fine day and calm
sea, until we secured — a very rough passage indeed.

Ought we not to be a great deal wiser, and more
efficient personages, or else to be ashamed of our-
selves? Unhappily, this last alternative is not a
compensation for wisdom.

I thought of you — to mention one occasion
amongst many — when we had the good fortune,
at Antwerp, to see a placard annoimcing that the
company from the Ober-Ammergau, Bavaria, would
represent, that Sunday evening, the Lebensgeschichte
of our Saviour Christ, at the Theatre des Vari^t^s.
I remembered that you had seen the representation
with deep interest — and these actors axe doubtless

438 Rotterdam and Amsterdam, [the priory,

Letter to the successoFs of those you saw. Of course we went

Miss Sara

Henneu, to the theatre. And the Christ was, without exag-

lOth Aug.

1866. geration, beautiful All the rest was inferior, and

might even have had a painful approach to the
ludicrous; but both the person and the action of
the Jesus were fine enough to overpower all meaner
impressions. Mr Lewes, who, you know, is keenly
alive to everything " stagey " in physiognomy and
gesture, felt what I am saying quite as much as I
did, and was much moved.

Eotterdam, with the grand approach to it by the
broad river ; the rich, red brick of the houses ; the
canals, uniformly planted with trees, and crowded
with the bright brown masts of the Dutch boats, —
is far finer than Amsterdam. The colour of Amster-
dam is ugly : the houses are of a chocolate colour,
almost black (an artificial tinge given to the bricks),
and the woodwork on them screams out in ugly
patches of cream-colour ; the canals have no trees
along their sides, and the boats are infrequent. We
looked about for the very Portuguese synagogue,
where Spinoza was nearly assassinated as he came
from worship. But it no longer exists. There are
no less than three Portuguese synagogues now —
very large and handsome. And in the evening we
went to see the worship there. Not a woman was

1866.] Jewish Worship. 439

present, but of devout men not a few, — a curious Letter to

Miss Sara

reversal of what one sees in other temples. The Henneu,

lOth Aug.

chanting and the swaying about of the bodies — isee.
almost a wriggling — are not beautiful to the sense ;
but I fairly cried at witnessing this faint symbol-
ism of a religion of sublime, far-off memories. The
skulls of St Ursula's eleven thousand virgins seem
a modem suggestion compared with the Jewish
Synagogue. At Schwalbach and Schlangenbad our
life .was led chiefly in the beech woods, which we
had all to ourselves, the guests usually confining
themselves to the nearer promenades. The guests,
of course, were few in that serious time, — and be-
tween war and cholera we felt our position as health
— and pleasure — seekers somewhat contemptible.

There is no end to what one could say, if one did
not feel that long letters cut pieces not to be spared
out of the solid day.

I think I have earned that you should write me
one of those perfect letters in which you make
me see everything you like about yourself and
others.

Auq, 30. — I have taken up the idea of my drama. Journal,

1866.

'The Spanish Gypsy,' again, and am reading on
Spanish subjects — Bouterwek, Sismondi, Depping,
Ilorente, &c.

440 Need of Sympathy, [the priory,

Letter to I have read several times your letter of the 19th,

Frederic ■••«ti»-i •• it

Harrison, which I found awaiting me on my return, and I

15th Aug. , 1-I 1 . . • -r* T

1866. shall read it many times agam. Pray do not even

say, or inwardly suspect, that anything you take
the trouble to write to me will not be valued. On
the contrary, please to imagine as well as you can
the experience of a mind morbidly desponding, of a
consciousness tending more and more to consist in
memories of error and imperfection rather than in
a strengthening sense of achievement — and then
consider how such a mind must need the support of
sympathy and approval from those who are capable
of imderstanding its aims. I assure you your letter
is an evidence of a fuller understanding than I have
ever had expressed to me before. And if I needed
to give emphasis to this simple statement, I should
suggest to you all the miseries one's obstinate ego-
ism endures from the fact of being a writer of novels
— books which the dullest and silliest reader thinks
himself competent to deliver an opinion on. But I
despise myself for feeling any annoyance at these
trivial things.

That is a tremendously difficult problem which
you have laid before me ; and I think you see its
difficulties, though they can hardly press upon you
as they do on me, who have gone through again and

1866.] JEstJietic Teaching. 441

again the severe efifort of trying to make certain Letter to

Frederic

ideas thoroughly incarnate, as if they had revealed Harrison,

15th Aug.

themselves to me first in the flesh and not in the ism.
spirit. I think aesthetic teaching is the highest of
all teaching, because it deals with life in its highest
complexity. But if it ceases to be purely aesthetic
— ^if it lapses anywhere from the picture to the
diagram — ^it becomes the most ofifensive of all teach-
ing. Avowed Utopias are not ofifensive, because
they are understood to have a scientific and exposi-
tory character : they do not pretend to work on the
emotions, or couldn't do it if they did pretend. I
am sure, from your own statement, that you see this
quite clearly. Well, then, consider the sort of agon-
ising labour to an English-fed imagination to make
out a sufificiently real backgroimd for the desired
picture, — to get breathing individual forms, and
group them in the needful relations, so that the
presentation will lay hold on the emotions as human
experience — will, as you say, " flash " conviction on
the world by means of aroused sympathy.

I took unspeakable pains in preparing to write
'Romola' — ^neglecting nothing I could find that
would help me to what I may call the "idiom" of
Florence, in the largest sense one could stretch the
word to : and then I was only trying to give some

442 * Spanish Chfpsy' begun again, [the PRIORY,

Letter to out of the normal relations. I felt that the neces-
Harrison, sary idealisation could only be attained by adopt-
1866. ing the clothing of the past. And again, it is my

way (rather too much so perhaps) to urge the human
sanctities through tragedy — ^through pity and terror,
as well as admiration and delight. I only say all
this to show the tenfold arduousness of such a work
as the one your problem demands. On the other
hand, my whole soul goes with your desire that it
should be done ; and I shall at least keep the great
possibility (or impossibility) perpetually in my mind,
83 something towards which I must strive, though it
may be that I can do so only in a fragmentary way.
At present I am going to take up again a work
which I laid down before writing ' Felix.' It is —
hd please, let this be a secret between ourselves — ^an
attempt at a drama, which I put aside at Mr Lewes's
request, after writing four acts, precisely because it
was in that stage of creation — or Werden — ^in which
the idea of the characters predominates over the in-
carnation. Now I read it again, I find it impossible
to abandon it: the conceptions move me deeply,
and they have never been wrought out before.
There is not a thought or symbol that I do not long
to use : but the whole requires recasting ; and, as I
never recast anything before, I think of the issue

1866.] Dean Ramsay. 443

very doubtfully. When one has to work out the Letter to
dramatic action for one's self, under the inspiration Hanison,
of an idea, instead of having a grand myth or an isee.
Italian novel ready to one's hand, one feels anything
but omnipotent. Not that I should have done any
better if I had had the myth or the novel, for I am
not a good user of opportunities. I think I have
the right hcvs and historic conditions, but much
else is wanting.

I have not, of course, said half what I meant to
say; but I hope opportunities of exchanging thoughts
will not be wanting between us.

It is so long since we exchanged letters, that I Letter to

John Black-
feel inclined to break the silence by telluig you that wood, eth

Sept 186G.

I have been reading with much interest the ' Opera-
tions of War,' which you enriched me with. Also
that I have had a pretty note, in aged handwriting,
from Dean Eamsay, with a present of his 'Remi-
niscences of Scottish life.' I suppose you know
him quite well, but I never heard you mention him.
Also — what will amuse you — that my readers take
quite a tender care of my text, writing to me to tell
me of a misprint, or of " one phrase " which they
entreat to have altered, that no blemish may dis-
figure * Felix.' Dr Althaus has sent me word of a
misprint which I am glad to know of — or rather of

444 Sir Henry Holland, [the priory,

Letter to a woid slipped out in the third volume. * She saw

John Black-
wood, 6th streaks of light, &c. . . . and sounds. It must be

Sept. 1866. 1 1 ,

corrected when the opportumty comes.

We are very well, and I am swimming in Spanish
history and literature. I feel as if I were molest-
ing you with a letter without any good excuse, but
you are not bound to write again until a wet day
makes golf impossible, and creates a dreariness in
which even letter- writing seems like a recreation.
Letter to I am glad to know that Dean Ramsay is a friend

John Black-

wood, nth of yours. His sympathy was worth having, and I

Sept 1866. 11,. A 1 1 * -11

at once wrote to thank mm. Another wonderfully
lively old man — Sir Henry Holland — came to see
me about two Sundays ago, to bid me good-bye
before going on an excursion to — North America ! —
and to tell me that he had just been re-reading
* Adam Bede ' for the fourth time. " I often read in
it, you know, besides. But this is the fourth time
quite through." I, of course, with the mother's
egoism on behalf of the yoimgest bom, was jealous
for ' Felix.' Is there any possibility of satisfying an
author ? But one or two things that Gteorge read
out to me from an article in * Macmillan's Maga-
zine' by Mr Morley did satisfy me. And yet I
sicken again with despondency under the sense that
the most carefully written books lie, both outside

1866.] Reading for ' Spanish Gypsy! 445

and inside people's minds, deep undermost in a heap
of trash.

Sefot 15. — Finished Depping's *Juifs au Moyen Journal,

1866.

Age/ Eeading Chaucer, to study English. Also
reading on Acoustics, Musical instruments, &c.

Oct. 15. — ^Eecommenced *The Spanish Gypsy,'
intending to give it a new form.

For a wonder, I remembered the day of the Letter to

Miss Sara

month, and felt a delightful confidence that I Henneu.

22d Nov.

should have a letter from her who always remem- isee.
bers such things at the right moment. You will
hardly believe in my imbecility. I can never be
quite sure whether your birthday is the 21st or
the 23d. I know every one must think the worse
of me for this want of retentiveness that seems a
part of aflfection; and it is only justice that they
should. Nevertheless I am not quite destitute of
lovingness and gratitude, and perhaps the conscious-
ness of my own defect makes me feel your goodness
the more keenly. I shall reckon it part of the
next year's happiness for me if it brings a great
deal of happiness to you. That will depend some-
what — perhaps chiefly — on the satisfaction you
have in giving shape to your ideas. But you say
nothing on that subject.

We knew about Faraday's preaching, but not of

446 EnjoyiTig Happiness, [the peioey.

Letter to his loss of faculty. I begin to think of such things

Miss Sara

Henneu, OS Very neoT to me — I mean decay of power and

22d Nov.

1866. health. But I find age has its fresh elements of

cheerfuhiess.

Bless you, dear Sara, for all the kindness of many
years, and for the newest kindness that comes to
me this morning. I am very well now, and able to
enjoy my happiness. One has happiness sometimes
without being able to enjoy it.

Journal, Nov. 22. — ^Ecadiug Kenan's * Histoire des Langues

1866.

S^mitiques ' — Ticknor's * Spanish literature.'

Dec, 6. — ^We returned from Tunbridge Wells,
where we have been for a week. I have been read-
ing Comewall Lewis's 'Astronomy of the Ancients,'
Ockley's 'History of the Saracens,' 'Astronomical
Geography,' and Spanish ballads on Bernardo del
Carpio.
Letter to We havc becu to Tunbridge Wells for a week.

Miss Sara

Henneii, 7th hoping to get plenty of fresh air, and walking in

Dec. 1866. .

that sandy undulating country. But for three days
it rained incessantly!

No ; I don't feel as if my faculties were failing
me. On the contrary, I enjoy all subjects — all
study — more than I ever did in my life before.
But that very fact makes me more in need of
resignation to the certain approach of age and

1866.] New Vistas eoerywhere, 447

death. Science, history, poetry — I don't know Letter to

Miss Sara

which draws me most, and there is little time Henneu,

7th. Dec

left me for any one of them. I learned Spanish isee.
last year but one, and see new vistas everywhere.
That makes me think of time thrown away when I
was young — ^time that I should be so glad of now.
I could enjoy everything, from arithmetic to anti-
quarianism, if I had large spaces of life before me.
But instead of that I have a very small space.
Unfeigned, unselfish, cheerful resignation is diffi-
cult. But I strive to get it.

Dec, 11. — 111 ever since I came home, so that the Journal,

1866.

days seem to have made a muddy flood, sweeping
away all labour and all growth.

Just before we received Dr Congreve's letter, we Letter to

Mrs Con-
had changed our plans. George's increasing weak- greve, 22d

° -^ ° Dec. 1866.

ness, and the more and more frequent intervals in
which he became unable to work, made me at last
urge him to give up the idea of " finishing," which
often besets us vainly. It will really be better for
the work as well as for himself that he should let
it wait. However, I care about nothing just now
except that he should be doing all he can to get bet-
ter. So we start next Thursday for Bordeaux, stay-
ing two days in Paris on our way. Madame Mohl
writes us word that she hears from friends of the

448 * Start f(yr Spain. [the prioey.

Letter to delicioifs Weather — ^mild, sunny weather — to be had

Mrs Con-

greve, 22d now on the French south-western and south-eastern

Dec. 1866.

coast. You will all wish us well on our journey, I
know. But / wish I could carry a happier thought
about you than that of your being an invalid. I
shall write to you when we are at Biarritz or some
other place that suits us, and when I have some-
thing good to tell. No ; in any case I shall write,
because I shall want to hear all about you. Tell
Dr Congreve we carry the ' Politique' with us. Mr
Lewes gets more and more impressed by it, and also
by what he is able to imderstand of the ' Synthase.'
I am writing in the dark. Farewell. With best
love to Emily, and dutiful regards to Dr Congreve.
Journal, Dcc, 27. — Set ofif in the evening on our lourney

1866. ° o J

to the south.

SUMMARY.
JANUARY 1866 TO DECEMBER 1866.

Letters to Frederic Haxrisoii on Industrial Co-operation —
Consults liim about law in * Felix Holt' — Asks his opinion
on other questions — Letter to Mrs Congreve — Visit to Tun-
bridge Wells — Reading Comte's 'Synthase' — Letter to F.
Harrison on " case " for * Felix Holt ' — Letter to Miss Hennell

1866.] Summary of Chapter XIII. 449

— Joy in the world getting better — Letter to Madame
Bodichon — ' Felix Holt ' growing like a sickly cMd — Want
of sincerity in England — Desire for knowledge increases —
Blackwood offers J5000 for * Felix Holt '—Letters to John
Blackwood renewing correspondence — Thanks for encour-
agement — Painstaking with * Felix Holt' — Letter to F.
Harrison on legal points — The book finished — Inscription
— Letter of adieu to Mrs Congreve — Letter to Mrs Bray —
Excitement of finishing * Felix Holt ' — Journey to Holland
and Germany — Letter to Mrs Congreve from Schwalbach —
Return to The Priory — Letter to F. Harrison asking for
sympathy — Letter to John Blackwood — Colonel Hamley —
Letter to Miss Hennell describing German trip — Miracle
play at Antwerp — Amsterdam synagogue— Takes up drama
* The Spanish Gypsy ' again — Reading on Spanish subjects
— Letter to F. Harrison — Need of sympathy — iEsthetic
teaching — Tells him of the proposed drama — Letters to
John Blackwood — Dean Ramsay — Sir Henry Holland —
Article on'* Felix Holt* in * Macmillan's Magazine * — *The
Spanish Gypsy ' recommenced — Reading Renan's * Histoire
des Langues S^mitiques ' and Ticknor's Spanish Literature —
Visit to Tunbridge Wells for a week — Reading Come wall
Lewis's * Astronomy of the Ancients ' — Ockley's * History of
the Saracens' and Spanish Ballads — Letter to* Miss Hennell
— Enjoyment of study — Depression — Letter of adieu to Mrs
Congreve — Set off on journey to Spain.

r

END OF THE SECOND VOLUME.

PRINTCD B7 WrLUAlC BLACKWOOD AND SONS

Facsimile of cu portioiv of George
Jr kj cA>\^ (k^M^^xdnvcyi^Uti^ £u>isl iS-"^ k/'^

^CiAJjei/f pOAA^Jt^ ytSX^ Knot <rj ^M^^^^r^L^ ^ ■

V SPAmsjs

xc

'^t^^