Edith Simcox, Autobiography, 12-29 December 1878
Title
Edith Simcox, Autobiography, 12-29 December 1878
Title
Edith Simcox, Autobiography, 12-29 December 1878
Sender
Edith Simcox
Recipient
U
Date(s)
- 1878-12-12–<br /> 1878-12-29
Place
London
Letter Content
Edith Simcox, Autobiography, 12-29 December 1878
MS: Bodleian.
Thursday 12 December 1878
Yesterday I saw Charles Lewes. He is good to her and I never liked him so well, -- he has no thought of sparing himself in caring for her. For her my instinct has not been wrong. She proposes to live on as she is, -- he says, she is able to live alone, and cannot bear to have, even a niece she is fond of with her. She has but the one thought to make his wishes her law; the rest of the world she would have think of her "as a dead friend." It is not strange, knowing her and loving and worshipping as I did, it is not strange that my instinct should have discerned this; Elma said -- That is hard for her friends -- I have hardly ventured to think so more than if she were dead indeed. I said she had no duties left. He said, after a long time perhaps she might make a new life with new interests, she was so full of sympathy she could hardly fail to do so, but her feeling now is that no one can give her any comfort and she has a right to avoid the agitation which might hinder her work. Charles said, she can speak of nothing but him, and she can only speak of him to me. Mrs. Cross died on Monday. I sat up writing a few lines of sympathy to Johnny -- uneasily though with complete sincerity -- through blinding tears. I have not said how hard it was to go to the house for the first time after that evening of death -- and yet it was a common duty to go and ask how she was. At last I went -- without wish, as a duty. I took a cab, I couldn't bear to traverse the so well known track. The maid said she was better than she had been yet, "seemed more cheerful" -- God help her! If anything could be harder it was to enter the house, to wait in the dining room -- Charles was out and had left word for me to wait: I had never been in the dining room but with him, and usually it was for some kind purpose that he called me there. There he showed me all her manuscripts. There he gave me "The Spanish Gipsy," there he had come to answer my questions about her. Is it disloyal to say -- He was kinder to me while I thought of him as a stranger than she when I had given all my love? I waited half an hour, standing on the rug looking at her portrait 475 and finding more sweetness in it than before. Lying on the chimney piece under my eyes was an open bill -- 1 widow's cap -- 7/6 -- and something else -- that is how I see her -- with a set, worn, white face. -- My poor darling -- it is too hard -- I think of meeting her -- it seems years hence, with a mere hand clasp and a sad, silent look.
Saturday 28 December 1878
On Christmas day, with great hesitation I wrote a few lines to her, -- of his divine presence -- which I enclosed in an open envelope to Charles Lewes asking him to give it to her or not as he thought best. He returns it, with a note that tells me nothing new, only makes the silence, which seems heartless, a plain necessity. Am I nearer or not than Johnny and Elma, since I cannot wish to see her again -- if she offered to see me, it would be a pain to endure -- like the first revisiting of the dark doorway, only harder.
Sunday 29 December 1878
. . . Charles Lewes said in his letter that she would never be able to endure any caress -- I knew that -- and so was not specially hurt by his saying it -- though I cried behind my veil all the way across the Park yesterday. But there is an inexhaustible tragedy in the thought of that last visit and the last stolen passionate kisses -- it is pain to think that it may be one more hurt to her, as well as a fresh stone on the barrier between us, yet in my inmost heart I cannot repent -- even if I had not stolen, the barrier would be impassible now. Let us take what good is left -- Charles will gain from her dependence and the close intercourse with the higher nature. It is better to feel that than to say that Johnny would have been more worthy of the son's privileges.
MS: Bodleian.
Thursday 12 December 1878
Yesterday I saw Charles Lewes. He is good to her and I never liked him so well, -- he has no thought of sparing himself in caring for her. For her my instinct has not been wrong. She proposes to live on as she is, -- he says, she is able to live alone, and cannot bear to have, even a niece she is fond of with her. She has but the one thought to make his wishes her law; the rest of the world she would have think of her "as a dead friend." It is not strange, knowing her and loving and worshipping as I did, it is not strange that my instinct should have discerned this; Elma said -- That is hard for her friends -- I have hardly ventured to think so more than if she were dead indeed. I said she had no duties left. He said, after a long time perhaps she might make a new life with new interests, she was so full of sympathy she could hardly fail to do so, but her feeling now is that no one can give her any comfort and she has a right to avoid the agitation which might hinder her work. Charles said, she can speak of nothing but him, and she can only speak of him to me. Mrs. Cross died on Monday. I sat up writing a few lines of sympathy to Johnny -- uneasily though with complete sincerity -- through blinding tears. I have not said how hard it was to go to the house for the first time after that evening of death -- and yet it was a common duty to go and ask how she was. At last I went -- without wish, as a duty. I took a cab, I couldn't bear to traverse the so well known track. The maid said she was better than she had been yet, "seemed more cheerful" -- God help her! If anything could be harder it was to enter the house, to wait in the dining room -- Charles was out and had left word for me to wait: I had never been in the dining room but with him, and usually it was for some kind purpose that he called me there. There he showed me all her manuscripts. There he gave me "The Spanish Gipsy," there he had come to answer my questions about her. Is it disloyal to say -- He was kinder to me while I thought of him as a stranger than she when I had given all my love? I waited half an hour, standing on the rug looking at her portrait 475 and finding more sweetness in it than before. Lying on the chimney piece under my eyes was an open bill -- 1 widow's cap -- 7/6 -- and something else -- that is how I see her -- with a set, worn, white face. -- My poor darling -- it is too hard -- I think of meeting her -- it seems years hence, with a mere hand clasp and a sad, silent look.
Saturday 28 December 1878
On Christmas day, with great hesitation I wrote a few lines to her, -- of his divine presence -- which I enclosed in an open envelope to Charles Lewes asking him to give it to her or not as he thought best. He returns it, with a note that tells me nothing new, only makes the silence, which seems heartless, a plain necessity. Am I nearer or not than Johnny and Elma, since I cannot wish to see her again -- if she offered to see me, it would be a pain to endure -- like the first revisiting of the dark doorway, only harder.
Sunday 29 December 1878
. . . Charles Lewes said in his letter that she would never be able to endure any caress -- I knew that -- and so was not specially hurt by his saying it -- though I cried behind my veil all the way across the Park yesterday. But there is an inexhaustible tragedy in the thought of that last visit and the last stolen passionate kisses -- it is pain to think that it may be one more hurt to her, as well as a fresh stone on the barrier between us, yet in my inmost heart I cannot repent -- even if I had not stolen, the barrier would be impassible now. Let us take what good is left -- Charles will gain from her dependence and the close intercourse with the higher nature. It is better to feel that than to say that Johnny would have been more worthy of the son's privileges.
Citation
Edith Simcox, Edith Simcox, Autobiography, 12-29 December 1878, Complete George Eliot Letters(2026), George Eliot Archive, edited by Beverley Park Rilett. https://GeorgeEliotArchive.org, Accessed September 7, 2026. https://www.georgeeliotarchive.org/items/show/91773