GE to Mrs. Elma Stuart, London, 24 March 1875
Title
GE to Mrs. Elma Stuart, London, 24 March 1875
Title
GE to Mrs. Elma Stuart, London, 24 March 1875
Sender
George Eliot
Recipient
Mrs. Elma Stuart
Date(s)
- 1875-03-24
Place
London
Letter Content
GE to Mrs. Elma Stuart, London, 24 March 1875
MS: British Museum. Extracts published: Stuart, pp. 44-46.
The Priory, | 21. North Bank, | Regents Park.
March 24. 75.
Dearest Elma
I have made a new era of comfort for myself by devising the simplest thing possible in the way of braces to hold up my flannel and calico drawers, and I am wondering whether I have the start of you in invention so that I can actually give you a hint of ease in return for all the thoughts and stitches you have given me. This mighty birth of my mind consists of two fine flannel strips about 2'bd or 3 inches wide pinned to the aforesaid garments with safety pins and crossed over the back just where a little warmth is agreeable to the marrow. They cause no cutting or pressure, and in warm weather -- if such a condition should ever again occur in our part of this planet -- I have reflected that the flannel may be replaced by strips of washing silk. This is the humble contribution of my intellect in the question of braces. Perhaps you have already found exactly the right thing for yourself, in which case please think of my suggestion only as the loving desire to relieve your dear hips from pressure.
I have been an invalid ever since I wrote to you until the last two or three days, but now I am recovering heart and hope. The tender attention I get might reconcile me to a month's ailing, if I were quite resigned to doing nothing and receiving all things.
Our weather has been cruelly cold. North east winds have dried up our bodily moisture and the sky has been gloomily grey. Only for the last three days has there been a promise of Spring in the air. How have you been? You must remember that until you can report yourself quite strong again, we need a more frequent reassurance about you.
The shirt, meine Liebe, will not adapt itself to my needs. I am sorry. But there are two insurmountable difficulties -- the fussiness about my neck, and the difficulty of managing my other garments so as to lift them off my loins. When Edith will be able to pay her visit to you seems uncertain, but I shall not forget to burthen her with the little parcel, unless you come first to carry it back with you.
Mr. Lewes is both glad and sorry at once that he has to prepare a new edition of his Life of Goethe 232 -- glad that the public has absorbed the old edition, but sorry to quit his other writing for the necessary interim. He is very well, occasional headaches excepted, and sends his love to you.
I wore the Saint Esprit on my black velvet the other day, and he was very proud of its effect. I have been too weak to be proud, but I am getting so strong again that I shall be equal to that sinning by and by.
If we could only have some sunshine! Sunshine becomes more and more of an independent joy to me -- independent of everything but husband and health, which are rather weighty provisoes.
I am writing this on my knees at one corner of the evening fire, and Mr. Lewes is reading his beloved physiology at the other corner. Imagine us pausing to speak of you and wondering if there is anything else to tell you. I conclude that there is nothing but this -- that I am
Your loving mother,
M. E. Lewes.
I had written a page before I found that the sheet was torn at the back.
MS: British Museum. Extracts published: Stuart, pp. 44-46.
The Priory, | 21. North Bank, | Regents Park.
March 24. 75.
Dearest Elma
I have made a new era of comfort for myself by devising the simplest thing possible in the way of braces to hold up my flannel and calico drawers, and I am wondering whether I have the start of you in invention so that I can actually give you a hint of ease in return for all the thoughts and stitches you have given me. This mighty birth of my mind consists of two fine flannel strips about 2'bd or 3 inches wide pinned to the aforesaid garments with safety pins and crossed over the back just where a little warmth is agreeable to the marrow. They cause no cutting or pressure, and in warm weather -- if such a condition should ever again occur in our part of this planet -- I have reflected that the flannel may be replaced by strips of washing silk. This is the humble contribution of my intellect in the question of braces. Perhaps you have already found exactly the right thing for yourself, in which case please think of my suggestion only as the loving desire to relieve your dear hips from pressure.
I have been an invalid ever since I wrote to you until the last two or three days, but now I am recovering heart and hope. The tender attention I get might reconcile me to a month's ailing, if I were quite resigned to doing nothing and receiving all things.
Our weather has been cruelly cold. North east winds have dried up our bodily moisture and the sky has been gloomily grey. Only for the last three days has there been a promise of Spring in the air. How have you been? You must remember that until you can report yourself quite strong again, we need a more frequent reassurance about you.
The shirt, meine Liebe, will not adapt itself to my needs. I am sorry. But there are two insurmountable difficulties -- the fussiness about my neck, and the difficulty of managing my other garments so as to lift them off my loins. When Edith will be able to pay her visit to you seems uncertain, but I shall not forget to burthen her with the little parcel, unless you come first to carry it back with you.
Mr. Lewes is both glad and sorry at once that he has to prepare a new edition of his Life of Goethe 232 -- glad that the public has absorbed the old edition, but sorry to quit his other writing for the necessary interim. He is very well, occasional headaches excepted, and sends his love to you.
I wore the Saint Esprit on my black velvet the other day, and he was very proud of its effect. I have been too weak to be proud, but I am getting so strong again that I shall be equal to that sinning by and by.
If we could only have some sunshine! Sunshine becomes more and more of an independent joy to me -- independent of everything but husband and health, which are rather weighty provisoes.
I am writing this on my knees at one corner of the evening fire, and Mr. Lewes is reading his beloved physiology at the other corner. Imagine us pausing to speak of you and wondering if there is anything else to tell you. I conclude that there is nothing but this -- that I am
Your loving mother,
M. E. Lewes.
I had written a page before I found that the sheet was torn at the back.
Signature
M. E. Lewes.
Citation
George Eliot, GE to Mrs. Elma Stuart, London, 24 March 1875, 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/93402