The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1869-05-20
in his paper, entitled George Eliot and George


to be hardly any difference, one would think,
between the literary taste of the public of Lon
don and that of the public of New York; and yet
II is certain that an author or book may be posi-
lively celebrated in one city and only barely
known and coldly recognized in the other
Every one, of course, has noticed the fact that
certain English authors are better known and APP
preciated in New York than in London certain
American writers more talked of in London than
in New York. The general public of England do
not seem to me to appreciate the true position
of Whittier and Lowell among American
poets. The average Englishman knows hardly
anything of any American poet but Longfellow,
who receives, venture to think, far more
wholesome and enthusiastic admiration i'm Eng
land than in his own country. Robert Bucha-
nan, the Scottish poet, lately, have read, de-
scribed "Evangeline' as far finer poem than
Goethes "Hermann und Dorothea," Judgment
which ! presume and hope il would be impos-
sible to get any American scholar and critic to
endorse or even to consider seriously. On the
other hand, 1t is well known that both the
Brownngs-certainly Mrs. Browning-fouud
quicker aud more cordial appreciation in Ame-
rica than in England Lately, we in London
have taken to discussing and debating over Walt
Whitman with Il warmth and interest which
people in New York do not seem to mani
fest in regard to the author of Leaves of Grass.
Charles Dickens appears to me to have more de-
voted admirers among the best class of readers
here than he has in his own country. OF
course, it would be hardly possible for any man
to De be-, NOR, more n, popular and more
but New York journals quote him and draw
Illustrations from him much more frequently
than London papers do do not think any day
has passed since first ! came to this country, six
or seven months ago, that | have not seen at
least two or three allusions to Dickens in the
leading articles of the daily papers-and | ques-
tion whether, among critics standing as high in
London as George William Curtis does here
Dickens could find the enthusiastic, the almost
lyrical devotion of Curtis admiration. Charles
RcadC, again. is more generally and warmly ad
mired here than in England. Am | wrong in
suppOsmg that the reverse is the case with re-
gard to the authoress of "Romola" and THE
Mill on the FlOss?' All American critics and all
American readers of taste have doubtless tcst-
fed practically their recognition of the genius
OF this extraordinary woman: but there seems to
me to be relatively less admiration for her in
New York than in London. The general verdict
of English criticism would, feel no doubt, place
George Eliot on higher pedestal than Charles
Dickens. We regard her as belonging to a
higher school of art, rs more nearly atlined to
the great immortal few whose genius and fame
transcend the fashion of the age and defy the
caprice of public taste SO far as | have been
able to observe, do nOtthink this is the opinion
OF American criticism In any case the mere
question will excuse my writing few pages
about woman whom | regard as the greatest
living novelist of England; rs, on the whole, the
greatest woman now engaged in European litera-
ture. Only George Sand and Harriet Martincau
could fairly be compared with her: and, while Miss
Martineau, of course, is far inferior in all the
ul1uCT UuIS OF Inauguration ana llGnCr faculties
of art, George Sand, with all her passion, her
rich fancy, and daring, subtle analysis of certain
natures, has never exhibited the serene. SYM
metrical power displayed in "ROmola" and in
''Sias Mariner" Mrs. Lewes Git would be aflec-
tation to try and assume that there is still mys-
terry about the identity of George Eliot'O is
what George Sand is nOt-a great writer, merely
as II writer. Few. indeed, are the beings who
| have ever combined many high qualities in
! one person Mrs. Lewes does. Her literary
! career began as translator and an essayist.
! Her tastes seemed then to lead her wholly into
| the somewhat barren fields where German meta
physics endeavor to to the relief or the con-
| fusion of German theology. She became
! trbutor to the Westminster ReCte,C; then she
! became its assistant editor, and worked assidu-
ously for it under the direction of DIR. John
! Chapman the editor, with whose family she
! lived for time, and in whose house she first
met George Henry Lcwes. She is an accomplished
! linguis brilliant talker, a musician of extra
| ordinary skill. She has a musical sense so deli
cate and exquisite that there are tender, simple,
! true ballad melodies which fill her with pa
thetic pain almost too keen to bear; and yet she
! has the tirm strong command of tone and
! touch without which really scientific musician
cannot be made. do not think this exceeding
sensibility of nature is often to Oe found in com
! bnation with genuine mastery of the practical
science of music. But Mrs. Lewes has mastered
| many sciences as well as ltGraturcS. Probably
no other novel writer, since novel writing be-
came n business ever possessed one tlthC OF her
| scientific knowledge. Indeed, hardly anything
| is Tarer than the union of the scientific and the
| literary or artistic temperaments. So rare is it,
that the exceptional, the almost solitary instance
/ of Goethe comes up at once, distinct and strk-
ing, to the mind. English noyelists are even less
| likely to have anything of "A scientific taste than
! French or German. Dickens knows nothing of
science, and has, indeed, as little knowledge of
any kind, save that which is
! derived from observation, any
respectable Englshman could well have.
Ihackeray was man of varied reading, yersed
| in the lighter literature of several languages,
and strongly imbued with artistic tastes; but he
| had no care for science, and knew nothing of il
| but Just what every one has 10 learn at school.
Lord Lytton's science is a mere sham. Charlotte
Bronte was all genius and ignorance. Mrs.
Lewes is all genius and culture. Had she never
written page of fiction, nay, had she never
written a line of poetry or prose, she must have
been regarded with wonder and admiration by
all who knew her rs a woman of vast and varied
knowledge; a woman who could think deeply
and talk brilliantly, who could play high and
severe classical music like professional per-
former, and could bring forth the most
delicate and tender aroma of nature and
poetry lying deep in the heart of some
simple, old-fashioned Scotch or English
ballad Nature indeed, seemed to have
given to this Extraordinary woman all the gifts
a woman could ask or haye-save one. 1t will
not, hope, be considered piece of gossiping
personality if | alludc to n fact which must,
some day or other be part of literary history.
Mrs. Lewes is not beautiful. In her appearance
there is nothing whatever to attract admiration.
Hers is not even n face like that of Charlotte
Cushman, which, at least must make deep i'm
preston, and seize at once the attention of the
gazer. Nor does it seem, like that of Madame
de Stael or Elizabeth Barrett Browning, in
formed and Illuminated by the light of genius.
Mrs. Lewes is what we in England call decidedly
Paih-what people in New York call hOmely;