If you have the leisure, and these books I have named
please you, then by all means read _Romola_, which is a remarkable
study of the degeneracy of a young Greek and of the noble strivings of
a great-hearted woman. The pictures of Florence in the time of
Savonarola are splendid, but they smell of the lamp. _Middlemarch_ is
also worth careful study for its fine analysis of character and
motive. In all George Eliot's books her characters develop before our
eyes, and this is especially true in this elaborate study of the
pathos and the tragedy of human life.
George Eliot wrote little poetry, but one piece may be commended to
careful attention, "The Choir Invisible." It sums up with impassioned
force her ethical creed, which she put in these fine lines:
Oh, may I join the choir invisible
Of those immortal dead who live again
In minds made better by their presence: live
In pulses stirred to generosity,
In deeds of daring rectitude, in scorn
For miserable aims that end in self.
* * * * *
This is life to come
Which martyred men have made more glorious
For us who strive to follow. May I reach
That purest heaven, be to other souls
The cup of strength in some great agony,
Enkindle generous ardor, feed pure love.
Beget the smiles that have no cruelty--
Be the sweet presence of a good diffused,
And in diffusion ever more intense.
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