GE to Sara Sophia Hennell, London, 26 December 1862
Title
GE to Sara Sophia Hennell, London, 26 December 1862
Title
GE to Sara Sophia Hennell, London, 26 December 1862
Sender
George Eliot
Recipient
Sara Sophia Hennell
Date(s)
- 1862-12-26
Place
London
Letter Content
GE to Sara Sophia Hennell, London, 26 December 1862
MS: Yale. Extracts published: Cross, 11, 346-347.
Blandford Sq. | December 26. 62.
Dear Sara
It is very sweet to me to have any proof of loving remembrance. That would have made the Book-marker precious even if it had been ugly. But it is perfectly beautiful -- in colour, words and symbols. Hitherto I have been discontented with the Coventry Book-marks, for at the shop where we habitually see them they have all got "Let the people praise Thee, O God" on them and nothing else. But I can think of no motto better than those three words. I suppose no wisdom the world will ever find out will make Paul's words obsolete "Now abide" etc. "but the greatest of these is Charity." 123
Our Christmas too has been quiet. Mr. Lewes, who talks much less about goodness than I do, but is always readier to do the right thing, thinks it rather wicked for us to eat our Turkey and plum-pudding without asking some forlorn person to eat it with us. Last year we invited a poor little governess 124 -- but she had to dine with her mother at Hackney. And this year we invited a poor shrivelled-hearted bachelor who shall be nameless, but he too had a filial duty. 125 I'm afraid we were glad, after all, to find ourselves alone with "the Boy." On Christmas Eve a sweet woman, 126 remembering me as you have done, left a beautiful plant at the door, and after that we went to hear the Messiah, at her Majesty's. -- We felt a considerable minus from the absence of the Organ contrary to advertisement, nevertheless it was good to be there. What pitiable people those are who feel no poetry in Christianity! Surely the acme of poetry hitherto is the conception of the suffering Messiah -- and the final triumph "He shall reign for ever and for ever." The Prometheus is a very imperfect foreshadowing of that symbol wrought out in the long history of the Jewish and Christian ages.
Poor Mr. Congreve has had, as we learned from Mr. Harrison the other night, 127 a severe and long attack of sciatica, not yet surmounted -- a very sad explanation of a five weeks' silence in Mrs. Congreve, who is worn with anxiety and nursing. Mr. Lewes and I have both been in miserable health during all this month. I have had a fortnight's incessant malaise and feebleness but as I had had many months of tolerable health it was my turn to be uncomfortable. You say nothing about your cough, so I hope this mild weather is tempering that grievance -- which must be terribly wearing, shaking head and chest. I speak of the mild weather, but it occurs to me that I must not imagine other places so oven-like as London with its million fires and smoke canopy.
Apart from health, we are brim-full of happiness and have so many good things that we seem to be preparing for the state of Dives. As I have not heard from Mr. Bray about the Coventry distress I am hoping that it is milder than he expected.
If my book marker were just a little longer I should keep it in my beautiful Bible in large print, which Mr. Lewes bought for me in provision for my old age. He is not fond of reading the Bible himself but "sees no harm" in my reading it.
He has just finished reading Russell's American Diary 128 which is intensely interesting -- full of strange pictures. Some one told me on oracular authority that if I had to be born again, I ought to pray to God to be born an American. I should sooner pray to be born a Turk or an Arab.
Farewell, dear Sara. Give my love and best wishes for the coming year to Cara and Mr. Bray. I am always yours affectionately
Pollian.
MS: Yale. Extracts published: Cross, 11, 346-347.
Blandford Sq. | December 26. 62.
Dear Sara
It is very sweet to me to have any proof of loving remembrance. That would have made the Book-marker precious even if it had been ugly. But it is perfectly beautiful -- in colour, words and symbols. Hitherto I have been discontented with the Coventry Book-marks, for at the shop where we habitually see them they have all got "Let the people praise Thee, O God" on them and nothing else. But I can think of no motto better than those three words. I suppose no wisdom the world will ever find out will make Paul's words obsolete "Now abide" etc. "but the greatest of these is Charity." 123
Our Christmas too has been quiet. Mr. Lewes, who talks much less about goodness than I do, but is always readier to do the right thing, thinks it rather wicked for us to eat our Turkey and plum-pudding without asking some forlorn person to eat it with us. Last year we invited a poor little governess 124 -- but she had to dine with her mother at Hackney. And this year we invited a poor shrivelled-hearted bachelor who shall be nameless, but he too had a filial duty. 125 I'm afraid we were glad, after all, to find ourselves alone with "the Boy." On Christmas Eve a sweet woman, 126 remembering me as you have done, left a beautiful plant at the door, and after that we went to hear the Messiah, at her Majesty's. -- We felt a considerable minus from the absence of the Organ contrary to advertisement, nevertheless it was good to be there. What pitiable people those are who feel no poetry in Christianity! Surely the acme of poetry hitherto is the conception of the suffering Messiah -- and the final triumph "He shall reign for ever and for ever." The Prometheus is a very imperfect foreshadowing of that symbol wrought out in the long history of the Jewish and Christian ages.
Poor Mr. Congreve has had, as we learned from Mr. Harrison the other night, 127 a severe and long attack of sciatica, not yet surmounted -- a very sad explanation of a five weeks' silence in Mrs. Congreve, who is worn with anxiety and nursing. Mr. Lewes and I have both been in miserable health during all this month. I have had a fortnight's incessant malaise and feebleness but as I had had many months of tolerable health it was my turn to be uncomfortable. You say nothing about your cough, so I hope this mild weather is tempering that grievance -- which must be terribly wearing, shaking head and chest. I speak of the mild weather, but it occurs to me that I must not imagine other places so oven-like as London with its million fires and smoke canopy.
Apart from health, we are brim-full of happiness and have so many good things that we seem to be preparing for the state of Dives. As I have not heard from Mr. Bray about the Coventry distress I am hoping that it is milder than he expected.
If my book marker were just a little longer I should keep it in my beautiful Bible in large print, which Mr. Lewes bought for me in provision for my old age. He is not fond of reading the Bible himself but "sees no harm" in my reading it.
He has just finished reading Russell's American Diary 128 which is intensely interesting -- full of strange pictures. Some one told me on oracular authority that if I had to be born again, I ought to pray to God to be born an American. I should sooner pray to be born a Turk or an Arab.
Farewell, dear Sara. Give my love and best wishes for the coming year to Cara and Mr. Bray. I am always yours affectionately
Pollian.
Signature
Pollian.
Citation
George Eliot, GE to Sara Sophia Hennell, London, 26 December 1862, 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/94036