The daily Cairo bulletin. (Cairo, Ill.) 1878-1???, 1881-02-20

Eliot's animal, like Wordsworth's is the
horse. Her eyes are pale blue, her
mouth large and sensitive, her teeth
large and white. The expression Of her
face is gentle, while her manner Is
singularly tmid; yet, MS if by force of
will, as if she had been told something
about me by good Mr. Trollope, she
puts this timidlly aside, relates her own
literary experience, and suggests adj
| vice,
True genius is ever allied to humility,
and in seeing George Eliot do the work of
a good Samaritan 50 unobtruslvelyl learn
TO respect the woman rs much as | had
before admired the writer. "Foryears,"
she says, Il wrote reviews because |
knew too little of humanity, and doubt
whether | should have ever ventured
upon novel had not Mr.. Lewcs urged
me to it. TO him ! submitted my
"Scenes of Clerical Life, short stories
of the worth Of which | was in doubt.
Mr. Lewes insisted upon their pubica-
ton, and their success put an end to
my reviews. All my manuscripts pass
through his hands before they are sub
mitted TO the public. He is my critic
and my inspiration.
70 think that George Eliot should be
telling all this to Il school girl! Why
can scarcely believe my own ears; yet
| venture to ask whether she enjoys
writing; whether it is easy work? NO."
she replies, 81 am
MISERABLE WHEN WRITING,
but am still more miserable when not
writing" After more kindly words,
George Eliot rises, her husband comes
forward and claims acquaintance with
1.-THE little republican, find myself
absolutely laughing and talking with
those two wonderful creatures, and
then they bid me good night. That is
all see of them, their lornight's stay
in Florence being over.
In the maturity Of her wisdom this
gifted woman startled the world with
"Scenes of Clerical Life" "Adam
Bede," mill on the Floss, and "Silas
Mariner" making an era in English tic
ton, and raising herself above rivalry
Experience was much TO her. Her men
are men, her women are women, ana
long did English readers rack their
brains to discover the sex Of "George
Eliot" Mrs Lewcs need not neceS-
sarily have encountered the characters
she so wildly portrays. Genius looks
upon nature, and then creates. The pot
house scene in "Sias Mariner" is per-
feet as a Dutch painting, yet the author
never entered pot-house. Her strong
physique enabled her in her earlier
days to brush against the world, and in
thus brushing she gathered upthe dust,
fine and coarse, out Of which humanity
is made. 1t is a powerful argument in
the woman Question that without
going to France for George Sand
adam Beden and the wonderfully
unique conception of Paul FerroIl
should be womens work-and real
men can not know women by knowing
men, and discriminating public will
soon admit, if it has not done so al
ready, that women are quite as capa-
BILE of
DRAWING MALE PORTRAITS
as men are of drawing female Half a
century ago woman maintained that
genius has no sex; a truth dawning on
the world
| know not whether George Eliot Wis
tied Florence con mteHEiORe yet it al
most seems as though "Romola' were
the product of that fortnights sOiOurn.
1t could scarcely have been written by
one whose eyes were unfamiliar with
the tone of Florentino localities. As a
novel, "Romola" is never likely to be
popular, however extensively read; but,
viewed as sketch of Savonarola and
his times it is most interesting and val
liable. The deep research and knowI-
edge of MEDIEVAL life and manners dis
played are cause of wondermcnt 10
erudte Florentines who have lived to
learn from foreigner. The cOUicUr
locate is marvellous. Nothing can be
more real, for example, than the scenes
which transpire in Ncllo's barber-shop,
The dramatic persona are not English
men and women in fancy dress, but
true Tuscans, who express themselves
after the manner of natives 1t would
be difficult to find greater contrast
than exists between "RomolaN and
George Eliots previous novels. They
have little in common but genius and
genius, | begin to think, not only has
no sex, but no nationality 'RomoIa'
has peoplcd the streets of Florence still
more denscly to memory.
The next time saw George Eliot was
in
HER OwN HOUSE,
the Prory, No, q North Bank, REGENTS
park. Much as wanted TO renew the
acquaintance, | stayed away from the
priory until invited, as / knew George
Eliot shrank from strangers, and | had
no reason to suppose that she would re-
member an American girl at Florence.
Fortunately for me | was not forgotten,
and when one foggy Sunday | entered
her pleasant London drawing-room,
both she and Mr. Lewes warmly wei
coined me.
Sunday was their reception day.
From 3 to Z the cleyerest men and
women in London felt honored in be-
ing received by the quiet woman who
sat by the fire with her back TO the
window and talked earnestly in almost
whisper, while Lcwes peryaded the
atmosphere, speaking first with one and
then with another, always interesting
and frequently brilliant, the ugliest Of
men, who made you forget his pockcd
| foca and slapuy red hair i'm abOut Gf