GE to Sara Sophia Hennell, Foleshill, [26 November 1846]
Title
GE to Sara Sophia Hennell, Foleshill, [26 November 1846]
Title
GE to Sara Sophia Hennell, Foleshill, [26 November 1846]
Sender
George Eliot
Recipient
Sara Sophia Hennell
Date(s)
- 1846-11-26
Place
FOLESHILL
Letter Content
GE to Sara Sophia Hennell, Foleshill, [26 November 1846]
MS: Yale. Endorsed: Dec. Extracts published: Cross, I, 152-153.
Dearest Sara,
Our correspondence owns no laws, so we need not trouble ourselves to show cause for being stupidly silent just when we might have been expected to be overflowing with gratulations and aspirations. My letter writing pen is entirely at the mercy of a host of little sprites, more tiny and etherial than the train of Queen Mab, and it is only when they come tickling my forefingers and thumb, making them itch for this same pen, 647 that the strong repulsion from it is overcome. They have kept obstinately away, I suppose nestled in some cotton wool out of the reach of this terrible frost, and so your loving little note that came just when it should have done, and gave me just the very sweetest assurance in all the world, has seemed to fall like last night's snow on a hard, cold, black hour. Only seemed, for the very fact that I didn't write made me think of you all the more, and there have been half a dozen new gossamer threads fastened between our hearts in consequence. Many things both outward and inward have concurred to make this November far happier than the last. One's thoughts are "widened with the process of the suns," 648 and if one is rather doubtful whether one is really wiser and better, it is some comfort to know that the desire to be so is more pure and dominant.
I have been thinking of that most beautiful passage in Luke's Gospel -- the appearance of Jesus to the disciples at Emmaus. 649 How univeral in its significance! The soul that has hopefully followed its form -- its impersonation of the highest and best -- all in despondency -- its thoughts all refuted, its dreams all dissipated. Then comes another Jesus -- another, but the same -- the same highest and best, only chastened, crucified instead of triumphant -- and the soul learns that this is the true way to conquest and glory -- And then there is the burning of the heart which assures that "This was the Lord!" that this is the inspiration from above -- the true Comforter that leads into truth.
But I am not become a Methodist, dear Sara. On the contrary if I am pious one day you may be sure I was very wicked the day before, and shall be so again the next.
I hope to hear a good account of your outward woman next week from Mr. Bray. Love to Mrs. Hennell.
Thy
Pollian.
Foleshill | Thursday.
MS: Yale. Endorsed: Dec. Extracts published: Cross, I, 152-153.
Dearest Sara,
Our correspondence owns no laws, so we need not trouble ourselves to show cause for being stupidly silent just when we might have been expected to be overflowing with gratulations and aspirations. My letter writing pen is entirely at the mercy of a host of little sprites, more tiny and etherial than the train of Queen Mab, and it is only when they come tickling my forefingers and thumb, making them itch for this same pen, 647 that the strong repulsion from it is overcome. They have kept obstinately away, I suppose nestled in some cotton wool out of the reach of this terrible frost, and so your loving little note that came just when it should have done, and gave me just the very sweetest assurance in all the world, has seemed to fall like last night's snow on a hard, cold, black hour. Only seemed, for the very fact that I didn't write made me think of you all the more, and there have been half a dozen new gossamer threads fastened between our hearts in consequence. Many things both outward and inward have concurred to make this November far happier than the last. One's thoughts are "widened with the process of the suns," 648 and if one is rather doubtful whether one is really wiser and better, it is some comfort to know that the desire to be so is more pure and dominant.
I have been thinking of that most beautiful passage in Luke's Gospel -- the appearance of Jesus to the disciples at Emmaus. 649 How univeral in its significance! The soul that has hopefully followed its form -- its impersonation of the highest and best -- all in despondency -- its thoughts all refuted, its dreams all dissipated. Then comes another Jesus -- another, but the same -- the same highest and best, only chastened, crucified instead of triumphant -- and the soul learns that this is the true way to conquest and glory -- And then there is the burning of the heart which assures that "This was the Lord!" that this is the inspiration from above -- the true Comforter that leads into truth.
But I am not become a Methodist, dear Sara. On the contrary if I am pious one day you may be sure I was very wicked the day before, and shall be so again the next.
I hope to hear a good account of your outward woman next week from Mr. Bray. Love to Mrs. Hennell.
Thy
Pollian.
Foleshill | Thursday.
Signature
Pollian.
Citation
George Eliot, GE to Sara Sophia Hennell, Foleshill, [26 November 1846], 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/93903