GE to Herbert Spencer, Broadstairs, [8? July 1852]
Title
GE to Herbert Spencer, Broadstairs, [8? July 1852]
Title
GE to Herbert Spencer, Broadstairs, [8? July 1852]
Sender
George Eliot
Recipient
Herbert Spencer
Date(s)
- 1852-07-08
Place
Broadstairs
Letter Content
GE to Herbert Spencer, Broadstairs, [8? July 1852]
MS: British Museum. Published with several misreadings: Bulletin of the New York Public Library, 79 (Spring 1976), 366-368.
Chandos Cottage. | Thursday.
Dear Friend
No credit to me for my virtues as a refrigerant. I owe them all to a few lumps of ice which I carried away with me from that tremendous glacier of yours. I am glad that Nemesis, lame as she is, 99 has already made you feel a little uneasy in my absence, whether from the state of the thermometer or aught else. 100 We will not inquire too curiously whether you long most for my society or for the sea-breezes. If you decided that I was not worth coming to see, it would only be of a piece with that generally exasperating perspicacity of yours which will not allow one to humbug you. (An agreeable quality, let me tell you, that capacity of being humbugged. Don't pique yourself on not possessing it). But seriously and selfishness apart, I should like you to have the enjoyment of this pleasant place. The heat, tempered as it is here by the sea-breezes, is not at all oppressive, and only serves to give one a delicious, voluptuous laziness. There are fresh wild flowers coming out every day -- the dear little creeping convolvulus and mignonette and others known to me "by sight, but not by name." And then the sun-set over the plains of wheat and barley, and the sea studded with sails. Do come on Saturday, if you would like it. There is a nice hotel where you can have a bed, and shant I be proud to do hospitalities once more? I think the Boat is better than the Excursion train -- in spite of the shorter time of the latter. The heat and dust stretch 3 hours into 6.
I am ashamed to give a report of myself, for I have done nothing but dream away my time since I came. I think of retiring from the world, like old Weller, 101 if my good landlady will accept me as a tenant all the year round. I fancy I should soon be on an equality, in point of sensibility, with the star-fish and sea-egg 102 -- perhaps you will wickedly say, I certainly want little of being a Medusa. 103 I have had a loathing for books -- for all tagging together of sentences since I came, and have liked everything as indefinite as the sounds of an AEolian harp. You see I am sinking fast towards "homogeneity," 104 and my brain will soon be a mere pulp unless you come to arrest the downward process. I have read Deerbrook, 105 and am surprized at the depths of feeling it reveals. Rose, Blanche and Violet, 106 too -- at least the two first volumes -- the third I left behind and (damaging fact, either for me or the novel!) I don't care to have it. I have read a good deal of "In Memoriam" 107 -- which, believe it or not, has great beauties -- though the artificiality of the form is unforgiveable. Froude's much talked of article on Spinoza 108 too I have read at last, and find it a mere sketch of his life -- picturesquely done but with the usual Froudian sentimentality and false veneration. This morning I determined to reform and plunged into Warburton. 109 Henceforth I mean to live laborious days 110 -- that is to say until I have made up my mind to fraternize with the star-fish. In haste,
Ever yours truly
Marian Evans.
I am horrified to see how I have blotted my letter. Gr'e2ce --
MS: British Museum. Published with several misreadings: Bulletin of the New York Public Library, 79 (Spring 1976), 366-368.
Chandos Cottage. | Thursday.
Dear Friend
No credit to me for my virtues as a refrigerant. I owe them all to a few lumps of ice which I carried away with me from that tremendous glacier of yours. I am glad that Nemesis, lame as she is, 99 has already made you feel a little uneasy in my absence, whether from the state of the thermometer or aught else. 100 We will not inquire too curiously whether you long most for my society or for the sea-breezes. If you decided that I was not worth coming to see, it would only be of a piece with that generally exasperating perspicacity of yours which will not allow one to humbug you. (An agreeable quality, let me tell you, that capacity of being humbugged. Don't pique yourself on not possessing it). But seriously and selfishness apart, I should like you to have the enjoyment of this pleasant place. The heat, tempered as it is here by the sea-breezes, is not at all oppressive, and only serves to give one a delicious, voluptuous laziness. There are fresh wild flowers coming out every day -- the dear little creeping convolvulus and mignonette and others known to me "by sight, but not by name." And then the sun-set over the plains of wheat and barley, and the sea studded with sails. Do come on Saturday, if you would like it. There is a nice hotel where you can have a bed, and shant I be proud to do hospitalities once more? I think the Boat is better than the Excursion train -- in spite of the shorter time of the latter. The heat and dust stretch 3 hours into 6.
I am ashamed to give a report of myself, for I have done nothing but dream away my time since I came. I think of retiring from the world, like old Weller, 101 if my good landlady will accept me as a tenant all the year round. I fancy I should soon be on an equality, in point of sensibility, with the star-fish and sea-egg 102 -- perhaps you will wickedly say, I certainly want little of being a Medusa. 103 I have had a loathing for books -- for all tagging together of sentences since I came, and have liked everything as indefinite as the sounds of an AEolian harp. You see I am sinking fast towards "homogeneity," 104 and my brain will soon be a mere pulp unless you come to arrest the downward process. I have read Deerbrook, 105 and am surprized at the depths of feeling it reveals. Rose, Blanche and Violet, 106 too -- at least the two first volumes -- the third I left behind and (damaging fact, either for me or the novel!) I don't care to have it. I have read a good deal of "In Memoriam" 107 -- which, believe it or not, has great beauties -- though the artificiality of the form is unforgiveable. Froude's much talked of article on Spinoza 108 too I have read at last, and find it a mere sketch of his life -- picturesquely done but with the usual Froudian sentimentality and false veneration. This morning I determined to reform and plunged into Warburton. 109 Henceforth I mean to live laborious days 110 -- that is to say until I have made up my mind to fraternize with the star-fish. In haste,
Ever yours truly
Marian Evans.
I am horrified to see how I have blotted my letter. Gr'e2ce --
Signature
Marian Evans.
Citation
George Eliot, GE to Herbert Spencer, Broadstairs, [8? July 1852], 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/92527