GE to Mrs. Abijah Hill Pears, Foleshill, [28 January 1842]
Title
GE to Mrs. Abijah Hill Pears, Foleshill, [28 January 1842]
Title
GE to Mrs. Abijah Hill Pears, Foleshill, [28 January 1842]
Sender
George Eliot
Recipient
Mrs. Abijah Hill Pears
Date(s)
- 1842-01-28
Place
FOLESHILL
Letter Content
GE to Mrs. Abijah Hill Pears, Foleshill, [28 January 1842]
Text: Copy (by Mrs. Bray?), Tinker Collection, Yale. Mostly published: Cross, I, 105-107.
Foleshill | Friday Evening.
My very dear Friend,
Your kind note was put in my hand about an hour ago, and lest my reply should arrive to interrupt you on Sunday morning, I write very hastily that I may secure it a place in the letter-bag this evening. Far from being weary of your dear little Henry, 398 his matin visits are as cheering to me as those of any little bird "That comes in spite of sorrow, And at my window bids good morrow." 399 We have not perhaps been so systematic as a regular tutor and pupil would have been, but we crave indulgence for some laxity. I was really touched that you should think of me, while among friends more closely linked with you in every way; I was beginning to get used to the conviction that, ivy-like as I am by nature, I must (as we see ivy do sometimes) shoot out into an isolated tree.
Never again imagine that you need ask forgiveness for speaking or writing to me on subjects to me more interesting than aught else, 400 -- on the contrary believe that I really enjoy conversation of this nature; blank silence and cold reserve are the only bitters I care for in my intercourse with you. I can rejoice in all the joys of humanity; in all that serves to elevate and purify feeling and action; nor will I quarrel with the million who, I am persuaded, are with me in intention though our dialect differ. Of course I must desire the ultimate downfall of error: for no error is innocuous, but this assuredly will occur without my proselyting aid, and the best proof of a real love of the truth, -- that freshest stamp of divinity, -- is a calm confidence in its intrinsic power to secure its own high destiny, -- that of universal empire. Do not fear that I will become a stagnant pool by a self-sufficient determination only to listen to my own echo; to read the yea, yea, on my own side, and be most comfortably deaf to the nay, nay. Would that all rejected practically this maxim! To fear the examination of any proposition appears to me an intellectual and a moral palsy that will ever hinder the firm grasping of any substance whatever. For my part, I wish to be among the ranks of that glorious crusade that is seeking to set Truth's Holy Sepulchre free from a usurped domination. We shall then see her resurrection! Meanwhile, although I cannot rank among my principles of action a fear of vengeance eternal, gratitude for predestined salvation, or a revelation of future glories as a reward, I fully participate in the belief that the only heaven here or hereafter is to be found in conformity with the will of the Supreme; a continual aiming at the attainment of that perfect ideal, the true Logos that dwells in the bosom of the One Father. I hardly know whether I am ranting after the fashion of one of the Primitive Methodist prophetesses, with a cart for her rostrum, I am writing so fast. Goodbye, and blessings on you, as they will infallibly be on the children of peace and virtue.
Ever, your affectionate
Mary Ann.
Text: Copy (by Mrs. Bray?), Tinker Collection, Yale. Mostly published: Cross, I, 105-107.
Foleshill | Friday Evening.
My very dear Friend,
Your kind note was put in my hand about an hour ago, and lest my reply should arrive to interrupt you on Sunday morning, I write very hastily that I may secure it a place in the letter-bag this evening. Far from being weary of your dear little Henry, 398 his matin visits are as cheering to me as those of any little bird "That comes in spite of sorrow, And at my window bids good morrow." 399 We have not perhaps been so systematic as a regular tutor and pupil would have been, but we crave indulgence for some laxity. I was really touched that you should think of me, while among friends more closely linked with you in every way; I was beginning to get used to the conviction that, ivy-like as I am by nature, I must (as we see ivy do sometimes) shoot out into an isolated tree.
Never again imagine that you need ask forgiveness for speaking or writing to me on subjects to me more interesting than aught else, 400 -- on the contrary believe that I really enjoy conversation of this nature; blank silence and cold reserve are the only bitters I care for in my intercourse with you. I can rejoice in all the joys of humanity; in all that serves to elevate and purify feeling and action; nor will I quarrel with the million who, I am persuaded, are with me in intention though our dialect differ. Of course I must desire the ultimate downfall of error: for no error is innocuous, but this assuredly will occur without my proselyting aid, and the best proof of a real love of the truth, -- that freshest stamp of divinity, -- is a calm confidence in its intrinsic power to secure its own high destiny, -- that of universal empire. Do not fear that I will become a stagnant pool by a self-sufficient determination only to listen to my own echo; to read the yea, yea, on my own side, and be most comfortably deaf to the nay, nay. Would that all rejected practically this maxim! To fear the examination of any proposition appears to me an intellectual and a moral palsy that will ever hinder the firm grasping of any substance whatever. For my part, I wish to be among the ranks of that glorious crusade that is seeking to set Truth's Holy Sepulchre free from a usurped domination. We shall then see her resurrection! Meanwhile, although I cannot rank among my principles of action a fear of vengeance eternal, gratitude for predestined salvation, or a revelation of future glories as a reward, I fully participate in the belief that the only heaven here or hereafter is to be found in conformity with the will of the Supreme; a continual aiming at the attainment of that perfect ideal, the true Logos that dwells in the bosom of the One Father. I hardly know whether I am ranting after the fashion of one of the Primitive Methodist prophetesses, with a cart for her rostrum, I am writing so fast. Goodbye, and blessings on you, as they will infallibly be on the children of peace and virtue.
Ever, your affectionate
Mary Ann.
Signature
Mary Ann.
Citation
George Eliot, GE to Mrs. Abijah Hill Pears, Foleshill, [28 January 1842], 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/93186