GE to Sara Sophia Hennell, London, [11 July 1863]
Title
GE to Sara Sophia Hennell, London, [11 July 1863]
Title
GE to Sara Sophia Hennell, London, [11 July 1863]
Sender
George Eliot
Recipient
Sara Sophia Hennell
Date(s)
- 1863-07-11
Place
London
Letter Content
GE to Sara Sophia Hennell, London, [11 July 1863]
MS: Yale. Endorsed: July 11. 1863. Extracts published: Cross, II, 356-358.
Blandford Sq. | Saturday.
Dear Sara
I have often been feeling the want to write to you since we came home, but constant languor and hemicrania from the new heat have 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 -- Thornie, who is this week passing his momentous examination. We returned from our Isle of W[ight] excursion last Monday week: both of us frightfully sunburnt and somewhat strengthened, and I happily with no more than an insignificant remnant of cough which is now quite gone. Tell Mr. Bray that Mrs. Blythe desired me to present her "duty" to him and his family.
Your picture of things at home is cheering. Nelly's health or want of health 167 must affect you all strongly. It is difficult to resign oneself to the drooping of young things whose life makes half our own reason for wishing to live. I don't mean that any single girl or boy has all that weight in our lot, but our hopefulness for the many is apt to vary with what befals those who are close to us.
Apropos, a pretty thing has happened to an acquaintance of mine, 168 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 4 ft. 11. in height, pleasant to look at and clever; a working woman, without any of those epicene queernesses that belong to the class. Her life has been a history of family troubles, and she has that susceptible nature which makes such troubles hard to bear. 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 difficult 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 33 -- it is the prettiest story of a swift, decided passion, and made me cry for joy. She is so much above vulgar feeling about such things, that she was not at all sure at first that she would have him, "splendid match" as he is; but now she has accepted and yesterday Mrs. Bodichon and I went with her to buy her wedding-clothes. Barbara has for years been her best friend, and it is her school that this clever little curly-haired woman has been managing. The future husband is also 33 -- 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 Catholic! Last, not quite least, he settles £150 a year on his future mother-in-law. If you will only imagine everything I have not said, you will think this a very charming fairy tale.
We are going this evening to see the French actress 169 in Juliet, who is astonishing the town. Last week we saw Ristori, the other night heard the Faust, and next week we are going to hear the Elisir d'Amore and Faust again! So you see we are trying to get some compensation for the necessity of living among bricks in this sweet summer-time. I can bear the opera better than any other evening entertainment, because the house is airy and the stalls are comfortable: we both feel now that we are too old to find pleasure in bad air and with cramped limbs. The opera is a great, great product -- pity we can't always have fine Weltgeschich[t]liche dramatic motives wedded with fine music, instead of trivialities or hideousnesses. Perhaps this last is too strong a word for anything except the Traviata. Rigoletto is unpleasant, but it is a superlatively fine tragedy in the Nemesis -- I think I don't know a finer.
Best love to Cara, and tell her I rejoice to think of her being so far on in her work. We are really going to buy the Priory after all: 170 -- she would think it very pretty if she saw it now with the roses blooming about it.
Ever yours lovingly
Marian.
You know, of course, that there is to be another number of Romola? 171
MS: Yale. Endorsed: July 11. 1863. Extracts published: Cross, II, 356-358.
Blandford Sq. | Saturday.
Dear Sara
I have often been feeling the want to write to you since we came home, but constant languor and hemicrania from the new heat have 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 -- Thornie, who is this week passing his momentous examination. We returned from our Isle of W[ight] excursion last Monday week: both of us frightfully sunburnt and somewhat strengthened, and I happily with no more than an insignificant remnant of cough which is now quite gone. Tell Mr. Bray that Mrs. Blythe desired me to present her "duty" to him and his family.
Your picture of things at home is cheering. Nelly's health or want of health 167 must affect you all strongly. It is difficult to resign oneself to the drooping of young things whose life makes half our own reason for wishing to live. I don't mean that any single girl or boy has all that weight in our lot, but our hopefulness for the many is apt to vary with what befals those who are close to us.
Apropos, a pretty thing has happened to an acquaintance of mine, 168 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 4 ft. 11. in height, pleasant to look at and clever; a working woman, without any of those epicene queernesses that belong to the class. Her life has been a history of family troubles, and she has that susceptible nature which makes such troubles hard to bear. 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 difficult 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 33 -- it is the prettiest story of a swift, decided passion, and made me cry for joy. She is so much above vulgar feeling about such things, that she was not at all sure at first that she would have him, "splendid match" as he is; but now she has accepted and yesterday Mrs. Bodichon and I went with her to buy her wedding-clothes. Barbara has for years been her best friend, and it is her school that this clever little curly-haired woman has been managing. The future husband is also 33 -- 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 Catholic! Last, not quite least, he settles £150 a year on his future mother-in-law. If you will only imagine everything I have not said, you will think this a very charming fairy tale.
We are going this evening to see the French actress 169 in Juliet, who is astonishing the town. Last week we saw Ristori, the other night heard the Faust, and next week we are going to hear the Elisir d'Amore and Faust again! So you see we are trying to get some compensation for the necessity of living among bricks in this sweet summer-time. I can bear the opera better than any other evening entertainment, because the house is airy and the stalls are comfortable: we both feel now that we are too old to find pleasure in bad air and with cramped limbs. The opera is a great, great product -- pity we can't always have fine Weltgeschich[t]liche dramatic motives wedded with fine music, instead of trivialities or hideousnesses. Perhaps this last is too strong a word for anything except the Traviata. Rigoletto is unpleasant, but it is a superlatively fine tragedy in the Nemesis -- I think I don't know a finer.
Best love to Cara, and tell her I rejoice to think of her being so far on in her work. We are really going to buy the Priory after all: 170 -- she would think it very pretty if she saw it now with the roses blooming about it.
Ever yours lovingly
Marian.
You know, of course, that there is to be another number of Romola? 171
Signature
Marian.
Citation
George Eliot, GE to Sara Sophia Hennell, London, [11 July 1863], 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/93935