It is so long since we exchanged letters, that I feel inclined to break the silence by telling you that I have been reading with much interest the "Operations of War," which you enriched me with. Also that I have had a pretty note, in aged handwriting, from Dean Ramsay, with a present of his "Reminiscences of Scottish Life." I suppose you know him quite well, but I never heard you mention him. Also – what will amuse you – that my readers take quite a tender care of my text, writing to me to tell me of a misprint, or of "one phrase" which they entreat to have altered, that no blemish may disfigure "Felix." Dr. Althaus has sent me word of a misprint which I am glad to know of – or, rather, of a word slipped out in the third volume. "She saw streaks of light, etc. … and sounds." It must be corrected when the opportunity comes.

We are very well, and I am swimming in Spanish history and literature. I feel as if I were molesting you with a letter without any good excuse, but you are not bound to write again until a wet day makes golf impossible, and creates a dreariness in which even letter-writing seems like a recreation.

Letter to John Blackwood, 11th Sept. 1866.

I am glad to know that Dean Ramsay is a friend of yours. His sympathy was worth having, and I at once wrote to thank him. Another wonderfully lively old man – Sir Henry Holland – came to see me about two Sundays ago, to bid me good-bye before going on an excursion to – North America! – and to tell me that he had just been re-reading "Adam Bede" for the fourth time. "I often read in it, you know, besides. But this is the fourth time quite through." I, of course, with the mother's egoism on behalf of the youngest born, was jealous for "Felix." Is there any possibility of satisfying an author? But one or two things that George read out to me from an article in Macmillan's Magazine, by Mr. Mozley, did satisfy me. And yet I sicken again with despondency under the sense that the most carefully written books lie, both outside and inside people's minds, deep undermost in a heap of trash.

Journal, 1866.

Sept. 15.– Finished Depping's "Juifs au Moyen Âge." Reading Chaucer, to study English. Also reading on Acoustics, Musical Instruments, etc.

Oct. 15.– Recommenced "The Spanish Gypsy," intending to give it a new form.

Letter to Miss Sara Hennell, 22d Nov. 1866.

For a wonder I remembered the day of the month, and felt a delightful confidence that I should have a letter from her who always remembers such things at the right moment. You will hardly believe in my imbecility. I can never be quite sure whether your birthday is the 21st or the 23d. I know every one must think the worse of me for this want of retentiveness that seems a part of affection; and it is only justice that they should. Nevertheless I am not quite destitute of lovingness and gratitude, and perhaps the consciousness of my own defect makes me feel your goodness the more keenly. I shall reckon it part of the next year's happiness for me if it brings a great deal of happiness to you. That will depend somewhat – perhaps chiefly – on the satisfaction you have in giving shape to your ideas. But you say nothing on that subject.

We knew about Faraday's preaching, but not of his loss of faculty. I begin to think of such things as very near to me – I mean, decay of power and health. But I find age has its fresh elements of cheerfulness.

Bless you, dear Sara, for all the kindness of many years, and for the newest kindness that comes to me this morning. I am very well now, and able to enjoy my happiness. One has happiness sometimes without being able to enjoy it.

Journal, 1866.

Nov. 22.– Reading Renan's "Histoire des Langues Sémitiques" – Ticknor's "Spanish Literature."

Dec. 6.– We returned from Tunbridge Wells, where we have been for a week. I have been reading Cornewall Lewis's "Astronomy of the Ancients," Ockley's "History of the Saracens," "Astronomical Geography," and Spanish ballads on Bernardo del Carpio.

Letter to Miss Sara Hennell, 7th Dec. 1866.

We have been to Tunbridge Wells for a week, hoping to get plenty of fresh air, and walking in that sandy, undulating country. But for three days it rained incessantly.

No; I don't feel as if my faculties were failing me. On the contrary, I enjoy all subjects – all study – more than I ever did in my life before. But that very fact makes me more in need of resignation to the certain approach of age and death. Science, history, poetry – I don't know which draws me most, and there is little time left me for any one of them. I learned Spanish last year but one, and see new vistas everywhere. That makes me think of time thrown away when I was young – time that I should be so glad of now. I could enjoy everything, from arithmetic to antiquarianism, if I had large spaces of life before me. But instead of that I have a very small space. Unfeigned, unselfish, cheerful resignation is difficult. But I strive to get it.

Journal, 1866.

Dec. 11.– Ill ever since I came home, so that the days seem to have made a muddy flood, sweeping away all labor and all growth.

Letter to Mrs. Congreve, 22d Dec. 1866.

Just before we received Dr. Congreve's letter we had changed our plans. George's increasing weakness and the more and more frequent intervals in which he became unable to work, made me at last urge him to give up the idea of "finishing," which often besets us vainly. It will really be better for the work as well as for himself that he should let it wait. However, I care about nothing just now except that he should be doing all he can to get better. So we start next Thursday for Bordeaux, staying two days in Paris on our way. Madame Mohl writes us word that she hears from friends of the delicious weather – mild, sunny weather – to be had now on the French southwestern and southeastern coast. You will all wish us well on our journey, I know. But I wish I could carry a happier thought about you than that of your being an invalid. I shall write to you when we are at Biarritz or some other place that suits us, and when I have something good to tell. No; in any case I shall write, because I shall want to hear all about you. Tell Dr. Congreve we carry the "Politique" with us. Mr. Lewes gets more and more impressed by it, and also by what he is able to understand of the "Synthèse." I am writing in the dark. Farewell. With best love to Emily, and dutiful regards to Dr. Congreve.

Journal, 1866.

Dec. 27.– Set off in the evening on our journey to the south.

SUMMARY

JANUARY, 1866, TO DECEMBER, 1866

Letters to Frederic Harrison on Industrial Co-operation – Consults him about law in "Felix Holt" – Asks his opinion on other questions – Letter to Mrs. Congreve – Visit to Tunbridge Wells – Reading Comte's "Synthèse" – Letter to F. Harrison on "case" for "Felix Holt" – Letter to Miss Hennell – Joy in the world getting better – Letter to Madame Bodichon – "Felix Holt" growing like a sickly child – Want of sincerity in England – Desire for knowledge increases – Blackwood offers £5000 for "Felix Holt" – Letters to John Blackwood renewing correspondence – Thanks for encouragement – Painstaking with "Felix Holt" – Letter to F. Harrison on legal points – The book finished – Inscription – Letter of adieu to Mrs. Congreve – Letter to Mrs. Bray – Excitement of finishing "Felix Holt" – Journey to Holland and Germany – Letter to Mrs. Congreve from Schwalbach – Return to the Priory – Letter to F. Harrison asking for sympathy – Letter to John Blackwood – Colonel Hamley – Letter to Miss Hennell describing German trip – Miracle play at Antwerp – Amsterdam synagogue – Takes up drama "The Spanish Gypsy" again – Reading on Spanish subjects – Letter to F. Harrison – Need of sympathy – Æsthetic teaching – Tells him of the proposed drama – Letters to John Blackwood – Dean Ramsay – Sir Henry Holland – Article on "Felix Holt" in Macmillan's Magazine– "The Spanish Gypsy" recommenced – Reading Renan's "Histoire des Langues Sémitiques" and Ticknor's "Spanish Literature" – Visit to Tunbridge Wells for a week – Reading Cornewall Lewis's "Astronomy of the Ancients" – Ockley's "History of the Saracens," and Spanish Ballads – Letter to Miss Hennell – Enjoyment of study – Depression – Letter of adieu to Mrs. Congreve – Set off on journey to Spain.