GE to Maria Lewis, Griff, [20 July 1840]
Title
GE to Maria Lewis, Griff, [20 July 1840]
Title
GE to Maria Lewis, Griff, [20 July 1840]
Sender
George Eliot
Recipient
Maria Lewis
Date(s)
- 1840-07-20
Place
GRIFF
Letter Content
GE to Maria Lewis, Griff, [20 July 1840]
MS: Yale. Endorsed: July 1840. Extract published: Cross, I, 69-70.
Griff Monday Morning.
My very dear Friend,
Twice before I have written an exordium for a letter to you, but as I generally let my feelings flow to the end of my pen as soon as I begin to write to you, I am obliged to reject both, as no longer containing a true representation of myself. Bodily debility has of late made me a slave to a train of morbid fancies -- from these I trust I am emerging, and I can this morning write to you with something of the calmness and cheerfulness that are the proper result of mercies more than I can even number. I have said thus much to account for my not sending you a letter as soon as I had reason to believe that you were settled at Burton. My heart has lately been with you more than ever and had I any magic at command it would certainly be used in transporting me to Burton for one day. My last accounts of the poor sufferer at Nuneaton 225 were favourable; but you will probably receive more regular and trustworthy information concerning him than I. I cherish hopes concerning the result of this scourging should God see fit in His immeasurable longsuffering, to uphold his life under such excruciating pain as he must endure. I long to know Mrs. B's spiritual state. It is an inexpressible mercy, enough to absorb our finite gratitude and leave none for other gifts, to feel that the "Lord God hath opened our ear" 226 to His voice, which is to be heard in every note of the scale to which His dealings in the Kingdom of Grace and of Providence are set; from the still and gently drawing whispers of His Spirit in the soul to the deep-toned and almost stunning thunder of his power when whole nations, while falling a sacrifice on the shrine of His incensed justice, subserve at the same time the designs of His compassion by putting others in fear that they may know themselves to be but men. We may so far agree with the Quietists 227 as to exercise that constant waiting on God for instruction and comfort which they make the sum total of religion but which we would unite with that active obedience that reasonable service, so prominently set forth in precept both figurative and literal and embodied in the conduct of God's saints, throughout the "lively oracles" 228 that have been committed to us. Our poor bodies are in league with our spiritual enemies within and without to make us weary in well doing, 229 we get troubled by reason of the way and we sit down weeping in the camp at the prospect of encountering the terrific giants 230 that stand between us and our promised Canaan, after all the trials of the traversed wilderness. What is the remedy in this case? Surely more of the grace that has subdued kingdoms wrought righteousness stopped the mouths of lions, out of weakness has produced strength, waxed valiant in fight, turned to flight the armies of the aliens. 231 How replete with meaning for doctrine, for reproof, for instruction in righteousness is the historical part of Scripture. Is it not clear that strong faith in the promises, real appropriation of them, must be a fountain ever sending forth streams of love and joy? The greater our assurance of pardon, the more lively and active our gratitude. While enjoying the light of God's countenance and feeding on the supplies that His Spirit imparts through the word and works of God we shall scarcely miss inferior comforts when withdrawn. Blessed state! O that I could attain it -- and why not? Because I am straitened not in Christ but in my own bowels. 232 We are like poor creatures of whom I have read, who, for some cause or other, having been thrust out of a ship by their companions, try to grasp first one part of the vessel then another for support, until by the successive lashes that are given to make them loose their hold, they have no fingers left by which to venture another hopeless experiment on pitiless hearts. So we, having voluntarily caused ourselves to be cast out as evil by the world, are continually indicating a vacillation in our choice by trying to lean on some part of it within reach, and it is mercy that orders the lashing of our disobedient fingers, even though for a time we be faint and bleeding from the correction.
Do you not think that sufficient consideration will be felt towards you to make a short cessation from your occupations attainable some time during the half year? I really fear for your health, and I wonder some plan was not contrived to give you a rather longer respite, your circumstances being known.
I write with a very tremulous hand as you will perceive; both this and many other defects in my letter are attributable to a very mighty cause -- no other than the boiling of currant jelly. I have had much of this kind of occupation lately, and I grieve to say I have not gone through it so cheerfully as the character of a Christian who professes to do all even the most trifling duty as to the Lord 233 demands. My mind is consequently run all wild and bears nothing but dog roses.
I am truly obliged to you for getting me Spenser, amid all your anxieties. I have not yet received it. How shall I send to you Don
Quixote which I have quite finished? It is a charming passe-temps (a word by the bye that I ought to have outlawed long ago) full of philosophical wit. Isaac is in Paris! There has been a mist of suspense thrown round our prospects lately. My brother's marriage is at present uncertain, so I know not what will be our situation. Chrissey is very well and happy and the darlings healthy. Forgive all that needs forgiveness in my letter. Write soon, if only to tell me how you do.
Ever your affectionate
Mary Ann.
You will think my common sense has begged a furlough, that I should so badly manage my paper.
MS: Yale. Endorsed: July 1840. Extract published: Cross, I, 69-70.
Griff Monday Morning.
My very dear Friend,
Twice before I have written an exordium for a letter to you, but as I generally let my feelings flow to the end of my pen as soon as I begin to write to you, I am obliged to reject both, as no longer containing a true representation of myself. Bodily debility has of late made me a slave to a train of morbid fancies -- from these I trust I am emerging, and I can this morning write to you with something of the calmness and cheerfulness that are the proper result of mercies more than I can even number. I have said thus much to account for my not sending you a letter as soon as I had reason to believe that you were settled at Burton. My heart has lately been with you more than ever and had I any magic at command it would certainly be used in transporting me to Burton for one day. My last accounts of the poor sufferer at Nuneaton 225 were favourable; but you will probably receive more regular and trustworthy information concerning him than I. I cherish hopes concerning the result of this scourging should God see fit in His immeasurable longsuffering, to uphold his life under such excruciating pain as he must endure. I long to know Mrs. B's spiritual state. It is an inexpressible mercy, enough to absorb our finite gratitude and leave none for other gifts, to feel that the "Lord God hath opened our ear" 226 to His voice, which is to be heard in every note of the scale to which His dealings in the Kingdom of Grace and of Providence are set; from the still and gently drawing whispers of His Spirit in the soul to the deep-toned and almost stunning thunder of his power when whole nations, while falling a sacrifice on the shrine of His incensed justice, subserve at the same time the designs of His compassion by putting others in fear that they may know themselves to be but men. We may so far agree with the Quietists 227 as to exercise that constant waiting on God for instruction and comfort which they make the sum total of religion but which we would unite with that active obedience that reasonable service, so prominently set forth in precept both figurative and literal and embodied in the conduct of God's saints, throughout the "lively oracles" 228 that have been committed to us. Our poor bodies are in league with our spiritual enemies within and without to make us weary in well doing, 229 we get troubled by reason of the way and we sit down weeping in the camp at the prospect of encountering the terrific giants 230 that stand between us and our promised Canaan, after all the trials of the traversed wilderness. What is the remedy in this case? Surely more of the grace that has subdued kingdoms wrought righteousness stopped the mouths of lions, out of weakness has produced strength, waxed valiant in fight, turned to flight the armies of the aliens. 231 How replete with meaning for doctrine, for reproof, for instruction in righteousness is the historical part of Scripture. Is it not clear that strong faith in the promises, real appropriation of them, must be a fountain ever sending forth streams of love and joy? The greater our assurance of pardon, the more lively and active our gratitude. While enjoying the light of God's countenance and feeding on the supplies that His Spirit imparts through the word and works of God we shall scarcely miss inferior comforts when withdrawn. Blessed state! O that I could attain it -- and why not? Because I am straitened not in Christ but in my own bowels. 232 We are like poor creatures of whom I have read, who, for some cause or other, having been thrust out of a ship by their companions, try to grasp first one part of the vessel then another for support, until by the successive lashes that are given to make them loose their hold, they have no fingers left by which to venture another hopeless experiment on pitiless hearts. So we, having voluntarily caused ourselves to be cast out as evil by the world, are continually indicating a vacillation in our choice by trying to lean on some part of it within reach, and it is mercy that orders the lashing of our disobedient fingers, even though for a time we be faint and bleeding from the correction.
Do you not think that sufficient consideration will be felt towards you to make a short cessation from your occupations attainable some time during the half year? I really fear for your health, and I wonder some plan was not contrived to give you a rather longer respite, your circumstances being known.
I write with a very tremulous hand as you will perceive; both this and many other defects in my letter are attributable to a very mighty cause -- no other than the boiling of currant jelly. I have had much of this kind of occupation lately, and I grieve to say I have not gone through it so cheerfully as the character of a Christian who professes to do all even the most trifling duty as to the Lord 233 demands. My mind is consequently run all wild and bears nothing but dog roses.
I am truly obliged to you for getting me Spenser, amid all your anxieties. I have not yet received it. How shall I send to you Don
Quixote which I have quite finished? It is a charming passe-temps (a word by the bye that I ought to have outlawed long ago) full of philosophical wit. Isaac is in Paris! There has been a mist of suspense thrown round our prospects lately. My brother's marriage is at present uncertain, so I know not what will be our situation. Chrissey is very well and happy and the darlings healthy. Forgive all that needs forgiveness in my letter. Write soon, if only to tell me how you do.
Ever your affectionate
Mary Ann.
You will think my common sense has begged a furlough, that I should so badly manage my paper.
Signature
Mary Ann.
Citation
George Eliot, GE to Maria Lewis, Griff, [20 July 1840], 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/92892