You are here
قراءة كتاب George Eliot's Life, Vol. III (of 3) as related in her Letters and Journals
تنويه: تعرض هنا نبذة من اول ١٠ صفحات فقط من الكتاب الالكتروني، لقراءة الكتاب كاملا اضغط على الزر “اشتر الآن"
George Eliot's Life, Vol. III (of 3) as related in her Letters and Journals
GEORGE ELIOT'S LIFE
as related in her Letters and Journals
ARRANGED AND EDITED BY HER HUSBAND
J. W. CROSS
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS
IN THREE VOLUMES.—Volume III
NEW YORK
HARPER & BROTHERS, FRANKLIN SQUARE
GEORGE ELIOT'S WORKS.
LIBRARY EDITION.
ADAM BEDE. Illustrated. 12mo, Cloth, $1.25.
DANIEL DERONDA. 2 vols., 12mo, Cloth, $2.50.
ESSAYS and LEAVES FROM A NOTE-BOOK. 12mo, Cloth, $1.25.
FELIX HOLT, THE RADICAL. Illustrated. 12mo, Cloth, $1.25.
MIDDLEMARCH. 2 vols., 12mo, Cloth, $2.50.
ROMOLA. Illustrated. 12mo, Cloth, $1.25.
SCENES OF CLERICAL LIFE, and SILAS MARNER. Illustrated. 12mo, Cloth, $1.25.
THE IMPRESSIONS OF THEOPHRASTUS SUCH. 12mo, Cloth, $1.25.
THE MILL ON THE FLOSS. Illustrated. 12mo, Cloth, $1.25.
Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York.
☞Harper & Brothers will send any of the above volumes by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the United States or Canada, on receipt of the price. For other editions of George Eliot's works published by Harper & Brothers see advertisement at end of third volume.
CONTENTS OF VOL. III.
CHAPTER XIV. January, 1867, to December, 1867. |
|
Tour in Spain | Page 1 |
CHAPTER XV. January, 1868, to December, 1868. |
|
"The Spanish Gypsy" | 24 |
CHAPTER XVI. January, 1869, to December, 1872. |
|
Poems—"Middlemarch" | 55 |
CHAPTER XVII. January, 1873, to December, 1875. |
|
"Brewing," "Deronda" | 138 |
CHAPTER XVIII. March, 1876, to November, 1878. |
|
"Daniel Deronda"—Illness and Death of Mr. Lewes | 197 |
CHAPTER XIX. January, 1879, to 22d December, 1880. |
|
"Theophrastus Such"—Marriage with Mr. Cross—Death | 249 |
ILLUSTRATIONS TO VOL. III.
No. 4 Cheyne Walk, Chelsea | Frontispiece. | |
The Heights, Witley. From a Sketch by Mrs. Allingham | To face p. | 216 |
GEORGE ELIOT'S LIFE.
CHAPTER XIV.
The new year of 1867 opens with the description of the journey to Spain.
We prolonged our stay in Paris in order to see Madame Mohl, who was very good to us; invited the Scherers and other interesting people to meet us at dinner on the 29th, and tempted us to stay and breakfast with her on the 31st, by promising to invite Renan, which she did successfully, and so procured us a bit of experience that we were glad to have, over and above the pleasure of seeing a little more of herself and M. Mohl. I like them both, and wish there were a chance of knowing them better. We paid for our pleasure by being obliged to walk in the rain (from the impossibility of getting a carriage) all the way from the Rue de Rivoli—where a charitable German printer, who had taken us up in his fiacre, was obliged to set us down—to the Hôtel du Helder, through streets literally jammed with carriages and omnibuses, carrying people who were doing the severe social duties of the last day in the year. The rain it raineth every day, with the exception of yesterday; we can't travel away from it, apparently. But we start in desperation for Bayonne in half an hour.
Snow on the ground here, too—more, we are told, than has been seen here for fifteen years before. But it has been obliging enough to fall in the night, and the sky is glorious this morning, as it was yesterday. Sunday was the one exception since the 6th, when we arrived here to a state of weather which has allowed us to be out of doors the greater part of our daylight. We think it curious that, among the many persons who have talked to us about Biarritz, the Brownings alone have ever spoken of its natural beauties; yet these are transcendent. We agree that the sea never seemed so magnificent to us before, though we have seen the Atlantic breaking on the rocks at Ilfracombe and on the great granite walls of the Scilly Isles. In the southern division of the bay we see the sun set over the Pyrenees; and in the northern we have two splendid stretches of sand, one with huge fragments of dark rock scattered about for the waves to leap over, the other an unbroken level, firm to the feet, where the hindmost line of wave sends up its spray on the horizon like a suddenly rising cloud. This part of the bay is worthily called the Chambre de l'Amour; and we have its beauties all to ourselves, which, alas! in this stage of the world, one can't help feeling to be an advantage. The few families and bachelors who are here (chiefly English) scarcely ever come across our path. The days pass so rapidly, we can hardly believe in their number when we come to count them. After breakfast we both