ELIOT. 800 ELIOT. attitude of open aggressiveness which almost led to a serious breacli with lier father. But friends eli'ected a reconciliation, she agreed to attend services once more, and for the remainder of lier life maintained a consistent tolerance toward the sincere beliefs of others, even when she re- garded them as mere superstitions. It was through George Bray that she was led to under- take her first serious literary work, a transla- tion fioni the German of Strauss's Life of Clirist. The task absorbed hqr for two years, though it seems to have bored her sadly toward the end, and at limes she revolted from lier author's atti- tude. In 1841), when her translation appeared, she declared herself "Strauss-sick' — it made her ill dissecting the beautiful story of the crucifix- ion. George Eliot's life as an author, from the ap- pearance of the Strauss translation to the day of her death, may conveniently be divided into three periods, the lirst extendhig down to her union with Mr. Lewes in 18.33: the second and third covering respectively her earlier and later novels, sharply divided by the production of Ruinola. Her father's death iir 184!l leaving her free, she made her lirst visit to the Continent, spending eight months in Geneva. A review of ^laekay's Progress of the Intellect, which appeared in the Westminster Rerieir soon after her return, re- sulted in her appointiuent as assistant editor of that review, as reorganized by Mr. Chapman. Through the licvieic she came in contact with many of the chief literary lights of the ])eriod, with Fronde and •!. S. Hill. Theodore Parker and Harriet Martineau. But "her brightest spot is the deliciously calm new friendship that Herbert Spencer gives her," and it was tlirough the lat- ter that she met George Henry Lewes. To what e.tent an open disregard for accepted conventions may be excused by an honest belief in the integrity of one's own purpose can prob- ably never be decided. It is certain that (icorge Eliot felt deeply the censure of relatives and friends, yet at the same time she was firm in her conviction that her acts were justified. A legal marriage was impossible, since Lewes already liad a wife living, from whom lie was separated under circumstances that precluded the possibility of a divorce. But that both Miss Evans and Lewes regarded their union as possessed of all the solemn force of a lifelong tie there can be no doubt. Equally certain is it that whatever fame (Jcorge Eliot achieved as a novelist, she owed it in the first instance to the encouragement and unswerv- ing faith of Lewes. Whether his inttuenee in the working out of .specific details of plot was al- ways tor the best may be questioned; but it is more than likely that without the stimulus of his belief in her powers her first novel would never have been written. The Slid Iorhnies of the Rev. Amos Barton, her first essay at fiction, appeared in Blackuood's Magazine in 1857, and was followed by Mr. Gil- fit's Love fifoni and .Jiinrt's Repentance, after- wards united in a single volume. Scenes of Cleri- cal Life. The volume evoked warm praise from many sources, notably from Thackeray, who thought the autlior was a man. The personal side of George Eliot's life during the years following her discovery of her real talents may be summed up briefly. They were years of strenuous work, handicapped by a frail physique, .-md brightened by pleasant summers in Germany, a few weeks in Florence, gathering material for Romola, and a trip to Spain, in search of local color for the Siiuiiish (li/i)si/. In November, 1S78, the death of Mr. l^wcs came as a crushing blow, but she found congenial occupa- tion in planning and founding a studentship in liis memory. Mr. dohn Walter Cross, who had long been on intimate terms with the I^weses, now became a constant visitor, and in the spring of 1880 George Eliot consented to marry him, the marriage taking place on May Gth. At this period she could write. "Deep down there is a river of sadness, but this must always be with tlio.-^e who have lived long — and I am able to en- joy my newly reopened life." She was not des- tined to enjoy it long. A serious illness in the autunui, followed by a relajise early in December, exhausted her vitality, and before the close of the month she was dead. Which of her novels represents the culmination of (ieorge Eliot's powers is likely to remain a subject of controversy. Some critics w ill "share with Mr. O.scar Browning the belief that her genius was of steady and uniform growth, reach- ing its greatest height in her last work, Daniel Deronda. Others, like Sir Leslie Stephen, will conliime to believe that nothing she produced subsecjuent to Silas Marner equals the volumes that precetled it. There will always be a select few who will look upon tlmt remarkable tour de force. Romola. as the turning-point in her career; while the volume which has steadily enjoyed the widest [)opularity with the general reader is Adam Bede. This last-mentioned story was sug- gested by an anecdote related to the author by an aimt, a Methodist preacher, who once passed a night in prayer with a girl condemned for child- murder. The aunt became the Dinah Morris of the story, and. at the suggestion of J>ewcs. was made the centre of interest from first to last — a change which more than one critic has cen- sured. The lasting merit of this book, as of The Mill on the Floss, which followed it, is less in the j)lot than in the marvelous alchemy which transforms the narrow, humdrum lives of dull- witted farming folk into vital pictures full of sympathetic appeal. The Mill on the Floss is sometimes pronounced an ill-proportioned piece of work, and the author herself admitted that her memories of childhood days lured her into unduly amplifying the earlier part. Yet it is the commonplace and wholly natural chatter of the Dodsons and Gleggs and Tullivcrs, the child- ish joys and sorrows of Maggie, her quarrels with Tom, her father's sympathy with his 'little wench,' that are remembered long after the later chapters of error and renunciation have grown dim. Romola was George Eliot's most ambitious work. It was an attemi)t to work out some deeply interesting ethical problems, not in the familiar atmosphere of her English midlands, hut in the Florence of Savonarola and the Renaissance. The task demanded an amount of special research that was exhausting. She her- self said of it that she began it as a young woman and finished it as an old one. It has sou'.etimes been called the greatest historical novel ever written; and if profound erudition, a noble theme, and a fertile play of im.agination are the first tests of an historical novel, this praise is justified. Yet it was not a commercial suc- cess in the Cornhill Magn-.ine. which had paid £7000 for the serial rights; and critics moat
