GE to Robert Evans, London, 26 September 1874
Title
GE to Robert Evans, London, 26 September 1874
Title
GE to Robert Evans, London, 26 September 1874
Sender
George Eliot
Recipient
Robert Evans
Date(s)
- 1874-09-26
Place
London
Letter Content
GE to Robert Evans, London, 26 September 1874
Text: Copy supplied by Mr. Percival R. Allen. Envelope: Robert Evans, Esq. | The Park | Nottingham. Postmarks: ST JOHNS WOOD N.W | C 3 | SP 26 | 74; NOTTINGHAM | A 3 | SP 27 | 74.
The Priory, | 21. North Bank, | Regents Park.
September 26. 74.
My dear Nephew
I enter fully into the duteous and affectionate anxiety which prompted the letter I received from you last night, precisely on my arrival for a few days stay in town. The correspondence between me and your Aunt Fanny ceased simply by her ceasing to write to me, the last letter between us having been written by me; 254 at least, I have never since received from her the slightest sign of remembrance. Your good mother has written to me more than once, 255 but there was no word in her letters implying that your Aunt Fanny retained any affectionate regard for me. All that I have heard concerning her is this -- that some (perhaps eight or ten) years ago, she spoke of me with dislike and unkindness, on an occasion in which I think my informant could have made no mistake. But I bear my Father's memory in too deep reverence willingly to dwell on anything painful in the conduct of those who were near to him; also I feel grateful for all goodness shown to me in my childhood and youth, and I have entertained only kind and admiring recollections of my sister.
But from the delicacy manifested in your letter I feel sure you will understand me when I tell you that during the seventeen years in which I have heard nothing from your Aunt Fanny, my connexions and duties, with consequent claims on my time and effort, have been continually multiplying. My strength, never quite equal to the demands upon it, naturally diminishes rather than increases with the increase of those demands, and I am constantly obliged not only to decline invitations but to escape from the pressure of visits and correspondence by retreating into the country out of the reach of all but the most intimate friends. I fear it is too late, my dear Nephew, for your Aunt Fanny and me to meet again. I cannot sustain agitating renewals of past relations in addition to the many social and family duties which have accumulated on me in the intervening years
Life goes on urgently, and those who willingly renounce a friendship cannot after a long lapse of years recover it at a given moment.
I have a keen recollection of all the pleasant affectionate intercourse I had with my sister in my childhood and youth, and especially I bear in mind the tenderness we felt in common for our dear Father. But I have no store of nervous energy, no superfluous time, to make it right for me to encounter the excitement of reviving those memories actively in personal meetings. I am not conscious of having ever, either by word or deed, done anything injurious to my sister, and I have a lively satisfaction in hearing from you of her comfort and welfare. But I cannot respond to your suggestion (made, I am sure, with the best sympathetic motives) that I should reopen communication with your Aunt by writing. My correspondence is very onerous to me, and I must not enlarge it in any way that does not wear the aspect of a duty.
I gather from your very kind and delicate letter that you have not spoken to your Aunt of your intention to write to me, and that your view of her desires is a matter of interpretation. I trust to your evidently good judgment to comprehend my feeling and position without a more lengthy explanation, and also to withhold everything from your Aunt Fanny which might cause her unnecessary sadness. You can assure her with truth that I bear her in sisterly remembrance.
I rejoice to hear of your happy family circumstances. The youngest who bears the dear name "Robert Evans" 256 will I trust, grow up to be a comfort and delight to you. Pray offer my best regards to your Mother when you have an opportunity of doing so. I was deeply touched by that last (I think it was the last) letter of hers to me in which she gave me an account of your Father's death, and I always bear in tender remembrance his uniform brotherly goodness to me.
Believe me, my dear Nephew,
Your sincerely well-wishing Aunt
M. E. Lewes.
Text: Copy supplied by Mr. Percival R. Allen. Envelope: Robert Evans, Esq. | The Park | Nottingham. Postmarks: ST JOHNS WOOD N.W | C 3 | SP 26 | 74; NOTTINGHAM | A 3 | SP 27 | 74.
The Priory, | 21. North Bank, | Regents Park.
September 26. 74.
My dear Nephew
I enter fully into the duteous and affectionate anxiety which prompted the letter I received from you last night, precisely on my arrival for a few days stay in town. The correspondence between me and your Aunt Fanny ceased simply by her ceasing to write to me, the last letter between us having been written by me; 254 at least, I have never since received from her the slightest sign of remembrance. Your good mother has written to me more than once, 255 but there was no word in her letters implying that your Aunt Fanny retained any affectionate regard for me. All that I have heard concerning her is this -- that some (perhaps eight or ten) years ago, she spoke of me with dislike and unkindness, on an occasion in which I think my informant could have made no mistake. But I bear my Father's memory in too deep reverence willingly to dwell on anything painful in the conduct of those who were near to him; also I feel grateful for all goodness shown to me in my childhood and youth, and I have entertained only kind and admiring recollections of my sister.
But from the delicacy manifested in your letter I feel sure you will understand me when I tell you that during the seventeen years in which I have heard nothing from your Aunt Fanny, my connexions and duties, with consequent claims on my time and effort, have been continually multiplying. My strength, never quite equal to the demands upon it, naturally diminishes rather than increases with the increase of those demands, and I am constantly obliged not only to decline invitations but to escape from the pressure of visits and correspondence by retreating into the country out of the reach of all but the most intimate friends. I fear it is too late, my dear Nephew, for your Aunt Fanny and me to meet again. I cannot sustain agitating renewals of past relations in addition to the many social and family duties which have accumulated on me in the intervening years
Life goes on urgently, and those who willingly renounce a friendship cannot after a long lapse of years recover it at a given moment.
I have a keen recollection of all the pleasant affectionate intercourse I had with my sister in my childhood and youth, and especially I bear in mind the tenderness we felt in common for our dear Father. But I have no store of nervous energy, no superfluous time, to make it right for me to encounter the excitement of reviving those memories actively in personal meetings. I am not conscious of having ever, either by word or deed, done anything injurious to my sister, and I have a lively satisfaction in hearing from you of her comfort and welfare. But I cannot respond to your suggestion (made, I am sure, with the best sympathetic motives) that I should reopen communication with your Aunt by writing. My correspondence is very onerous to me, and I must not enlarge it in any way that does not wear the aspect of a duty.
I gather from your very kind and delicate letter that you have not spoken to your Aunt of your intention to write to me, and that your view of her desires is a matter of interpretation. I trust to your evidently good judgment to comprehend my feeling and position without a more lengthy explanation, and also to withhold everything from your Aunt Fanny which might cause her unnecessary sadness. You can assure her with truth that I bear her in sisterly remembrance.
I rejoice to hear of your happy family circumstances. The youngest who bears the dear name "Robert Evans" 256 will I trust, grow up to be a comfort and delight to you. Pray offer my best regards to your Mother when you have an opportunity of doing so. I was deeply touched by that last (I think it was the last) letter of hers to me in which she gave me an account of your Father's death, and I always bear in tender remembrance his uniform brotherly goodness to me.
Believe me, my dear Nephew,
Your sincerely well-wishing Aunt
M. E. Lewes.
Signature
M. E. Lewes.
Citation
George Eliot, GE to Robert Evans, London, 26 September 1874, 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/93783