GE to Maria Lewis, Griff, 16 [March 1839]
Title
GE to Maria Lewis, Griff, 16 [March 1839]
Title
GE to Maria Lewis, Griff, 16 [March 1839]
Sender
George Eliot
Recipient
Maria Lewis
Date(s)
- 1839-03-16
Place
GRIFF
Letter Content
GE to Maria Lewis, Griff, 16 [March 1839]
MS: Yale. Address: Miss Lewis | The Revd L. Harper's | Burton Latimer | Northamptonshire. Postmark: COVENTRY | M 18 | 1839. Extracts published: Cross, I, 49-54.
Griff February 118 16.
My dear Friend,
My thoughts are as apt to slip from my grasp as certain lubricous little inhabitants of fresh water that I need not name so I will commit them to paper immediately on their suggestion, not out of fear lest you should sustain a weighty loss by my forgetting them, but lest they should suddenly refuse to come a second time at my incantations because I suffered them to vanish without using them at their first appearance, and so leave me without a word today in answer to a question you have been so kind as to put to me. I am this morning hardly myself owing to the insuppressible rising of my animal spirits on a deliverance from sick head ache. I dare say therefore I shall scribble much nonsense but remember our letters were to be mere conversation, and if you were chatting with a silly girl of nineteen you would think yourself bound to excuse a considerable deal of froth.
In trying to guess as to the expedience of reading works of fiction I put out of the question all books of persons of perceptions so quick, memories so eclectic and retentive, and minds so comprehensive, that nothing less than omnivorous reading as Southey calls it can satisfy their intellectual maw, for (if I may parody the words of Scripture without profaneness), they will gather to themselves all facts and heap unto themselves all ideas. 119 For such persons we cannot legislate. Again I would put out of the question standard works whose contents are matter of constant reference, and the names of whose heroes and heroines briefly and therefore conveniently describe characters and ideas. Such are Don Quixote, Butler's Hudibras, Robinson Crusoe, Gil Blas, Byron's Poetical romances, Southey's do. etc. Such too are Walter Scott's novels and poems. Such allusions as "He is a perfect Dominie Sampson," "He is as industrious in finding out antiquities and about as successful as Jonathan Oldbuck," 120 are likely to become so common in books and conversation that always providing our leisure is not circumscribed by duty within narrow bounds, we should I think qualify ourselves to understand. Shakespeare has a higher claim than this on our attention but we have need of as nice a power of distillation as the bee to suck nothing but honey from his pages. However as in life we must be exposed to malign influences from intercourse with others if we would reap the advantages designed for us by making us social beings, so in books.
Having cleared our way of what would otherwise have encumbered us, I would ask why is one engaged in the instruction of youth to read as purely conscientious and self denying performance of duty, works, whose value to others is allowed to be doubtful? I can only imagine two shadows of reasons. Either that she may be able experimentally to decide on their desirableness for her pupils, or else that there is a certain power exerted by them on the mind that would render her a more efficient tutress by their perusal. I would not depreciate the disinterestedness of those who will make trial of the effect on themselves of a cup suspected poisonous, that they may deter another from risking life, but it appears to me a work of supererogation, since there are enough witnesses to its baneful effects on themselves already to put an end to all strife on the matter. The Scriptural declaration, "As face answereth to face in a glass, so the heart of man to man," 121 will exonerate me from the charge of uncharitableness or too high an estimation of myself if I venture to believe that the same causes which exist in my own breast to render novels and romances pernicious have their counterpart in that of every fellow-creature.
I am I confess not an impartial member of a jury in this case for I owe the culprits a grudge for injuries inflicted on myself. I shall carry to my grave the mental diseases with which they have contaminated me. 122 When I was quite a little child I could not be satisfied with the things around me; I was constantly living in a world of my own creation, and was quite contented to have no companions that I might be left to my own musings and imagine scenes in which I was chief actress. Conceive what a character novels would give to these Utopias. I was early supplied with them by those who kindly sought to gratify my appetite for reading and of course I made use of the materials they supplied for building my castles in the air. 123 But it may be said, "No one ever dreamed of recommending children to read them; all this does not apply to persons come to years of discretion, whose judgments are in some degree matured." I answer that men and women are but children of a larger growth; they are still imitative beings. We cannot, at least those who ever read to any purpose at all, we cannot I say help being modified by the ideas that pass through our minds. We hardly wish to lay claim to such elasticity as retains no impress. We are active beings too. We are each one of the Dramatis personae in some play on the stage of life -- hence our actions have their share in the effects of our reading.
As to the discipline our minds receive from the perusal of fictions I can conceive none that is beneficial but may be attained by that of history. It is the merit of fictions to come within the orbit of probability; if unnatural they would no longer please. If it be said that the mind must have relaxation, "Truth is strange -- stranger than fiction." When a person has exhausted the wonders of truth, there is no other resort than fiction; till then I cannot imagine how the adventures of some phantom conjured up by fancy can be more entertaining than the transactions of real specimens of human nature, from which we may safely draw inferences. I dare say Mr. James's Huguenot 124 would be recommended as giving an idea of the times of which he writes, but as well may one be recommended to look at landscapes for an idea of English scenery. The real secret of the relaxation talked of is one that would not generally be avowed; but an appetite that wants seasoning of a certain kind cannot be indicative of health. Religious novels are more hateful to me than merely worldly ones. They are a sort of Centaur or Mermaid and like other monsters that we do not know how to class should be destroyed for the public good as soon as born. The weapons of the Christian warfare were never sharpened at the forge of romance. Domestic fictions as they come more within the range of imitation seem more dangerous. For my part I am ready to sit down and weep at the impossibility of my understanding or barely knowing even a fraction of the sum of objects that present themselves for our contemplation in books and in life. Have I then any time to spend on things that never existed?
I have written at random and have not said all I wanted to say. I hope the frequent use of the personal pronoun will not lead you to think that I suppose it to confer any weight on what I have said. I used it to prevent circumlocution and waste of time. I am ashamed to send a letter like this as if I thought more highly of myself than I ought to think, which is alas! too true. I long for Midsummer that I may see you. Do not talk of glimpses. I am grieved that your poor head is a frequent sufferer. Pardon all I ought not to have said and believe me
Your very affectionate and sincere
Mary Ann Evans.
In reading my letter I find difficulties in understanding my scribble that I fear are hopelessly insurmountable for another. Sir Walter Scott's life, 125 of which I have read the 1st volume and here and there some pages of the succeeding ones, conveys some sad and useful lessons. The spiritual sleep of that man was awful; he does not at least betray if he felt any thing like a pang of conscience. All biography is interesting and instructive. Sir W.S. himself is the best commentary on the effect of romances and novels. He sacrificed almost his integrity for the sake of acting out the character of the Scotch Laird, which he had so often depicted. J'attends une réponse. Some persons are so provokingly phlegmatic that perhaps they should have stimulants.
MS: Yale. Address: Miss Lewis | The Revd L. Harper's | Burton Latimer | Northamptonshire. Postmark: COVENTRY | M 18 | 1839. Extracts published: Cross, I, 49-54.
Griff February 118 16.
My dear Friend,
My thoughts are as apt to slip from my grasp as certain lubricous little inhabitants of fresh water that I need not name so I will commit them to paper immediately on their suggestion, not out of fear lest you should sustain a weighty loss by my forgetting them, but lest they should suddenly refuse to come a second time at my incantations because I suffered them to vanish without using them at their first appearance, and so leave me without a word today in answer to a question you have been so kind as to put to me. I am this morning hardly myself owing to the insuppressible rising of my animal spirits on a deliverance from sick head ache. I dare say therefore I shall scribble much nonsense but remember our letters were to be mere conversation, and if you were chatting with a silly girl of nineteen you would think yourself bound to excuse a considerable deal of froth.
In trying to guess as to the expedience of reading works of fiction I put out of the question all books of persons of perceptions so quick, memories so eclectic and retentive, and minds so comprehensive, that nothing less than omnivorous reading as Southey calls it can satisfy their intellectual maw, for (if I may parody the words of Scripture without profaneness), they will gather to themselves all facts and heap unto themselves all ideas. 119 For such persons we cannot legislate. Again I would put out of the question standard works whose contents are matter of constant reference, and the names of whose heroes and heroines briefly and therefore conveniently describe characters and ideas. Such are Don Quixote, Butler's Hudibras, Robinson Crusoe, Gil Blas, Byron's Poetical romances, Southey's do. etc. Such too are Walter Scott's novels and poems. Such allusions as "He is a perfect Dominie Sampson," "He is as industrious in finding out antiquities and about as successful as Jonathan Oldbuck," 120 are likely to become so common in books and conversation that always providing our leisure is not circumscribed by duty within narrow bounds, we should I think qualify ourselves to understand. Shakespeare has a higher claim than this on our attention but we have need of as nice a power of distillation as the bee to suck nothing but honey from his pages. However as in life we must be exposed to malign influences from intercourse with others if we would reap the advantages designed for us by making us social beings, so in books.
Having cleared our way of what would otherwise have encumbered us, I would ask why is one engaged in the instruction of youth to read as purely conscientious and self denying performance of duty, works, whose value to others is allowed to be doubtful? I can only imagine two shadows of reasons. Either that she may be able experimentally to decide on their desirableness for her pupils, or else that there is a certain power exerted by them on the mind that would render her a more efficient tutress by their perusal. I would not depreciate the disinterestedness of those who will make trial of the effect on themselves of a cup suspected poisonous, that they may deter another from risking life, but it appears to me a work of supererogation, since there are enough witnesses to its baneful effects on themselves already to put an end to all strife on the matter. The Scriptural declaration, "As face answereth to face in a glass, so the heart of man to man," 121 will exonerate me from the charge of uncharitableness or too high an estimation of myself if I venture to believe that the same causes which exist in my own breast to render novels and romances pernicious have their counterpart in that of every fellow-creature.
I am I confess not an impartial member of a jury in this case for I owe the culprits a grudge for injuries inflicted on myself. I shall carry to my grave the mental diseases with which they have contaminated me. 122 When I was quite a little child I could not be satisfied with the things around me; I was constantly living in a world of my own creation, and was quite contented to have no companions that I might be left to my own musings and imagine scenes in which I was chief actress. Conceive what a character novels would give to these Utopias. I was early supplied with them by those who kindly sought to gratify my appetite for reading and of course I made use of the materials they supplied for building my castles in the air. 123 But it may be said, "No one ever dreamed of recommending children to read them; all this does not apply to persons come to years of discretion, whose judgments are in some degree matured." I answer that men and women are but children of a larger growth; they are still imitative beings. We cannot, at least those who ever read to any purpose at all, we cannot I say help being modified by the ideas that pass through our minds. We hardly wish to lay claim to such elasticity as retains no impress. We are active beings too. We are each one of the Dramatis personae in some play on the stage of life -- hence our actions have their share in the effects of our reading.
As to the discipline our minds receive from the perusal of fictions I can conceive none that is beneficial but may be attained by that of history. It is the merit of fictions to come within the orbit of probability; if unnatural they would no longer please. If it be said that the mind must have relaxation, "Truth is strange -- stranger than fiction." When a person has exhausted the wonders of truth, there is no other resort than fiction; till then I cannot imagine how the adventures of some phantom conjured up by fancy can be more entertaining than the transactions of real specimens of human nature, from which we may safely draw inferences. I dare say Mr. James's Huguenot 124 would be recommended as giving an idea of the times of which he writes, but as well may one be recommended to look at landscapes for an idea of English scenery. The real secret of the relaxation talked of is one that would not generally be avowed; but an appetite that wants seasoning of a certain kind cannot be indicative of health. Religious novels are more hateful to me than merely worldly ones. They are a sort of Centaur or Mermaid and like other monsters that we do not know how to class should be destroyed for the public good as soon as born. The weapons of the Christian warfare were never sharpened at the forge of romance. Domestic fictions as they come more within the range of imitation seem more dangerous. For my part I am ready to sit down and weep at the impossibility of my understanding or barely knowing even a fraction of the sum of objects that present themselves for our contemplation in books and in life. Have I then any time to spend on things that never existed?
I have written at random and have not said all I wanted to say. I hope the frequent use of the personal pronoun will not lead you to think that I suppose it to confer any weight on what I have said. I used it to prevent circumlocution and waste of time. I am ashamed to send a letter like this as if I thought more highly of myself than I ought to think, which is alas! too true. I long for Midsummer that I may see you. Do not talk of glimpses. I am grieved that your poor head is a frequent sufferer. Pardon all I ought not to have said and believe me
Your very affectionate and sincere
Mary Ann Evans.
In reading my letter I find difficulties in understanding my scribble that I fear are hopelessly insurmountable for another. Sir Walter Scott's life, 125 of which I have read the 1st volume and here and there some pages of the succeeding ones, conveys some sad and useful lessons. The spiritual sleep of that man was awful; he does not at least betray if he felt any thing like a pang of conscience. All biography is interesting and instructive. Sir W.S. himself is the best commentary on the effect of romances and novels. He sacrificed almost his integrity for the sake of acting out the character of the Scotch Laird, which he had so often depicted. J'attends une réponse. Some persons are so provokingly phlegmatic that perhaps they should have stimulants.
Signature
Mary Ann Evans.
Citation
George Eliot, GE to Maria Lewis, Griff, 16 [March 1839], 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/92900