GE to Francois D'albert-Durade, Wandsworth, 18 October 1859
Title
GE to Francois D'albert-Durade, Wandsworth, 18 October 1859
Title
GE to Francois D'albert-Durade, Wandsworth, 18 October 1859
Sender
George Eliot
Recipient
Francois D'albert-Durade
Date(s)
- 1859-10-18
Place
Wandsworth
Letter Content
GE to Francois D'albert-Durade, Wandsworth, 18 October 1859
Text: William Harris Arnold, Ventures in Book Collecting, New York, C. Scribner's Sons, 1923, pp. 306-311, with corrections from Cross, New Edition, pp. 289-291.
Holly Lodge, South Fields | Wandsworth, Surrey
October 18, 1859.
My dear Friend
Does it ever happen to you now to think of a certain Englishwoman, n'e9e Marian Evans? She seems perhaps to deserve that you should forget her, seeing that she has let years pass without making any sign of her existence. But in reality she is not so blameworthy. When, more than two years ago, I wrote you word that I and my husband were going to the coast, I could not give you our permanent address, not knowing what it would be; and it did not occur to me to mention any other address which would serve for all times and seasons. Having made this omission, I could not hear from you again, and I had not the courage to write again myself, not feeling that I had anything to tell you that would be worth sending over the Jura.
But in these last three years a great change has come over my life -- a change in which I cannot help believing that both you and Madame d'Albert will rejoice. Under the influence of the intense happiness I have enjoyed in my married life 358 from thorough moral and intellectual sympathy, I have at last found out my true vocation, after which my nature had always been feeling and striving uneasily without finding it. What do you think that vocation is? I pause for you to guess.
I have turned out to be an artist -- not, as you are, with the pencil and the pallet, but with words. I have written a novel which people say has stirred them very deeply -- and not a few people, but almost all reading England. It was published in February last, and already 14,000 copies have been sold. The title is "Adam Bede"; and "George Eliot," the name on the title page, is my nom de plume. I had previously written another work of fiction called, "Scenes of Clerical Life," which had a great literary success, but not a great popular success, such as "Adam Bede" [h]as had. Both are now published by Tauchnitz in his series of English novels.
I think you will believe that I do not write you word of this out of any small vanity: -- my books are deeply serious things to me, and come out of all the painful discipline, all the most hardly-learnt lessons of my past life. I write you word of it, because I believe that both your kind heart and Madame d'Albert's too, will be touched with real joy, that one whom you knew when she was not very happy and when her life seemed to serve no purpose of much worth, has been at last blessed with the sense that she has done something worth living and suffering for. And I write also because I want to give both you and her a proof that I still think of you with grateful affectionate recollection.
My books are such close and detailed pictures of English life, that I hardly know whether they will affect foreign readers strongly. Yet I cannot help wishing that Madame d'Albert could read them, for I think the views of life with which they are written would excite her sympathy.
I am very much changed from the Minie of old days: the years have altered me as much inwardly as outwardly. In some things, however, I am just the same -- in some of my failings, I fear: -- but it is not a failing to retain a vivid remembrance of past scenes, and to feel warmly towards friends whose kindness lies far back in the distance, and in these things I am the same as when I used to walk on La Treille 359 with you or Madame d'Albert.
Do I deserve that you should write me some word about yourselves? Everything you could tell on that subject would be interesting. Alphonse 360 and Charles are now bearded men, are they not? I remember them with the more interest, because Mr Lewes has three boys, the youngest of whom is about the age your Charles had reached when I was at Geneva. Our boys are all three at Hofwyl under Dr M'fcller, who has revived Fellenberg's 361 institute there. They went soon after I wrote to you on the subject of a foreign school, the Hofwyl school appearing to suit Mr Lewes' views better than that of the Genevese gentleman whom you kindly mentioned to me.
I almost fear to send my letter after the long lapse of time in which I have known nothing of you. What sad things may have happened! Yet I will hope that such fear is groundless, and that you and Madame d'Albert are leading the same peaceful pleasant life as ever, with excellent friends around you.
How I should love to see Geneva again. But that too is greatly changed, is it not? We were in Switzerland in the summer, but had not time then to go so far south as Geneva. Another time, when we go into Italy, I hope to revisit the dear old scene and show it to my husband.
Farewell, dear friend. Ask Madame d'Albert to accept my affectionate regards, and believe me faithfully yours
Marian E. Lewes.
Text: William Harris Arnold, Ventures in Book Collecting, New York, C. Scribner's Sons, 1923, pp. 306-311, with corrections from Cross, New Edition, pp. 289-291.
Holly Lodge, South Fields | Wandsworth, Surrey
October 18, 1859.
My dear Friend
Does it ever happen to you now to think of a certain Englishwoman, n'e9e Marian Evans? She seems perhaps to deserve that you should forget her, seeing that she has let years pass without making any sign of her existence. But in reality she is not so blameworthy. When, more than two years ago, I wrote you word that I and my husband were going to the coast, I could not give you our permanent address, not knowing what it would be; and it did not occur to me to mention any other address which would serve for all times and seasons. Having made this omission, I could not hear from you again, and I had not the courage to write again myself, not feeling that I had anything to tell you that would be worth sending over the Jura.
But in these last three years a great change has come over my life -- a change in which I cannot help believing that both you and Madame d'Albert will rejoice. Under the influence of the intense happiness I have enjoyed in my married life 358 from thorough moral and intellectual sympathy, I have at last found out my true vocation, after which my nature had always been feeling and striving uneasily without finding it. What do you think that vocation is? I pause for you to guess.
I have turned out to be an artist -- not, as you are, with the pencil and the pallet, but with words. I have written a novel which people say has stirred them very deeply -- and not a few people, but almost all reading England. It was published in February last, and already 14,000 copies have been sold. The title is "Adam Bede"; and "George Eliot," the name on the title page, is my nom de plume. I had previously written another work of fiction called, "Scenes of Clerical Life," which had a great literary success, but not a great popular success, such as "Adam Bede" [h]as had. Both are now published by Tauchnitz in his series of English novels.
I think you will believe that I do not write you word of this out of any small vanity: -- my books are deeply serious things to me, and come out of all the painful discipline, all the most hardly-learnt lessons of my past life. I write you word of it, because I believe that both your kind heart and Madame d'Albert's too, will be touched with real joy, that one whom you knew when she was not very happy and when her life seemed to serve no purpose of much worth, has been at last blessed with the sense that she has done something worth living and suffering for. And I write also because I want to give both you and her a proof that I still think of you with grateful affectionate recollection.
My books are such close and detailed pictures of English life, that I hardly know whether they will affect foreign readers strongly. Yet I cannot help wishing that Madame d'Albert could read them, for I think the views of life with which they are written would excite her sympathy.
I am very much changed from the Minie of old days: the years have altered me as much inwardly as outwardly. In some things, however, I am just the same -- in some of my failings, I fear: -- but it is not a failing to retain a vivid remembrance of past scenes, and to feel warmly towards friends whose kindness lies far back in the distance, and in these things I am the same as when I used to walk on La Treille 359 with you or Madame d'Albert.
Do I deserve that you should write me some word about yourselves? Everything you could tell on that subject would be interesting. Alphonse 360 and Charles are now bearded men, are they not? I remember them with the more interest, because Mr Lewes has three boys, the youngest of whom is about the age your Charles had reached when I was at Geneva. Our boys are all three at Hofwyl under Dr M'fcller, who has revived Fellenberg's 361 institute there. They went soon after I wrote to you on the subject of a foreign school, the Hofwyl school appearing to suit Mr Lewes' views better than that of the Genevese gentleman whom you kindly mentioned to me.
I almost fear to send my letter after the long lapse of time in which I have known nothing of you. What sad things may have happened! Yet I will hope that such fear is groundless, and that you and Madame d'Albert are leading the same peaceful pleasant life as ever, with excellent friends around you.
How I should love to see Geneva again. But that too is greatly changed, is it not? We were in Switzerland in the summer, but had not time then to go so far south as Geneva. Another time, when we go into Italy, I hope to revisit the dear old scene and show it to my husband.
Farewell, dear friend. Ask Madame d'Albert to accept my affectionate regards, and believe me faithfully yours
Marian E. Lewes.
Signature
Marian E. Lewes.
Citation
George Eliot, GE to Francois D'albert-Durade, Wandsworth, 18 October 1859, Complete George Eliot Letters(2026), George Eliot Archive, edited by Beverley Park Rilett. https://GeorgeEliotArchive.org, Accessed September 7, 2026. https://georgeeliotarchive.org/items/show/92375