GE to Sara Sophia Hennell, London, 22 November 1861
Title
GE to Sara Sophia Hennell, London, 22 November 1861
Title
GE to Sara Sophia Hennell, London, 22 November 1861
Sender
George Eliot
Recipient
Sara Sophia Hennell
Date(s)
- 1861-11-22
Place
London
Letter Content
GE to Sara Sophia Hennell, London, 22 November 1861
MS: Yale. Extracts published: Cross, II, 320-321.
Blandford Square, | N.W.
November 22. 61.
My dear Sara
Your loving words of remembrance 872 find a very full answer in my heart -- fuller than I can write. 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.
I fear you are suffering from the cold winds in your high bedroom. It is a time when influenza and other such ailments seem to be going about seeking whom they may oppress and stupefy. 873 Almost every one I hear of has been having such visitations -- I among the rest, so that when you tell me you have a cold, I can't pass it over as a slight evil. Mr. Lewes is comparatively flourishing. I am saving as a bonne bouche for him, after work, your description of your visit to Harriet. Thank you for writing it: I don't know when I have read anything at once so touching and so amusing.
Our big pet, Charlie, is passing his month's holiday -- his one holiday in all the year -- at Hofwyl, where he is a great favourite. But his month is nearly at an end, and we shall have him again by next Sunday week. 874
Mrs. Bodichon writes that she and her companions have had an excellent voyage and have found everything comfortable in their African home.
You have heard, probably, of Mr. Clough's death at Florence whither his poor wife had gone to join him after her confinement. 875 Mr. Herbert Spencer dwells on the death as one brought on by excessive work, but he is perhaps over-apt to assign this as a cause for illness. He himself has just returned from a visit to Paris, where he had intended to stay until after Christmas; but he seems to have found that brilliant place as dull as brilliant places usually are to lonely strangers. 876
We went to see Fechter's Othello the other night. 877 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 demoralizing -- as indeed all tragedy must be when it fails to move pity and terror. In this case, it seems to move only titters among the smart and vulgar people who always make the bulk of a theatre audience. Of course the newspapers don't tell the truth about the matter. Please give my thanks to Mr. Bray for his pamphlet. The letter on spirit-rapping I had read before.
What are you doing now? Mr. Bray said you were writing busily. But I ought not to ask questions. I only mean that I am interested in all you like to tell me.
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 journeying it is difficult for us to manage meetings. Mr. Congreve is as usual working hard in his medical studies -- toiling backwards and forwards daily. What courage and patience are wanted for every life that aims to produce anything!
Love to all: special thoughts to you, dear Sara, on this morning when memories and prospects come crowding more thickly than usual.
Pollian.
MS: Yale. Extracts published: Cross, II, 320-321.
Blandford Square, | N.W.
November 22. 61.
My dear Sara
Your loving words of remembrance 872 find a very full answer in my heart -- fuller than I can write. 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.
I fear you are suffering from the cold winds in your high bedroom. It is a time when influenza and other such ailments seem to be going about seeking whom they may oppress and stupefy. 873 Almost every one I hear of has been having such visitations -- I among the rest, so that when you tell me you have a cold, I can't pass it over as a slight evil. Mr. Lewes is comparatively flourishing. I am saving as a bonne bouche for him, after work, your description of your visit to Harriet. Thank you for writing it: I don't know when I have read anything at once so touching and so amusing.
Our big pet, Charlie, is passing his month's holiday -- his one holiday in all the year -- at Hofwyl, where he is a great favourite. But his month is nearly at an end, and we shall have him again by next Sunday week. 874
Mrs. Bodichon writes that she and her companions have had an excellent voyage and have found everything comfortable in their African home.
You have heard, probably, of Mr. Clough's death at Florence whither his poor wife had gone to join him after her confinement. 875 Mr. Herbert Spencer dwells on the death as one brought on by excessive work, but he is perhaps over-apt to assign this as a cause for illness. He himself has just returned from a visit to Paris, where he had intended to stay until after Christmas; but he seems to have found that brilliant place as dull as brilliant places usually are to lonely strangers. 876
We went to see Fechter's Othello the other night. 877 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 demoralizing -- as indeed all tragedy must be when it fails to move pity and terror. In this case, it seems to move only titters among the smart and vulgar people who always make the bulk of a theatre audience. Of course the newspapers don't tell the truth about the matter. Please give my thanks to Mr. Bray for his pamphlet. The letter on spirit-rapping I had read before.
What are you doing now? Mr. Bray said you were writing busily. But I ought not to ask questions. I only mean that I am interested in all you like to tell me.
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 journeying it is difficult for us to manage meetings. Mr. Congreve is as usual working hard in his medical studies -- toiling backwards and forwards daily. What courage and patience are wanted for every life that aims to produce anything!
Love to all: special thoughts to you, dear Sara, on this morning when memories and prospects come crowding more thickly than usual.
Pollian.
Signature
Pollian.
Citation
George Eliot, GE to Sara Sophia Hennell, London, 22 November 1861, 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/94025