“To my beloved husband, George Henry Lewes, I give this MS. of my third book, written in the sixth year of our life together, at Holly Lodge, South Field, Wandsworth, and finished 21st March, 1860.” The manuscript of ‘Romola’ bears the following inscription: “To the Husband whose perfect love has been the best source of her insight and strength, this manuscript is given by his devoted wife, the writer.” The manuscript of ‘Felix Holt’ bears the following inscription: “From George Eliot to her dear Husband, this thirteenth year of their united life, in which the deepening sense of her own imperfectness has the consolation of their deepening love.” The manuscript of ‘The Spanish Gypsy’ bears the following inscription: “To my dear--every day dearer--Husband.” The manuscript of ‘Middlemarch’ bears the following inscription: “To my dear Husband, George Henry Lewes, in this nineteenth year of our blessed union.” The manuscript of ‘Daniel Deronda’ bears the following inscription: “To my dear Husband, George Henry Lewes. “Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, * * * * * Desiring this man’s art and that man’s scope, With what I most enjoy contented least; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising Haply I think on thee--and then my state Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven’s gate; For thy sweet love remember’d such wealth brings, That then I scorn to change my state with kings.” J. W. CROSS: ‘George Eliot’s Life.’ * * * * * [Sidenote: Depression after finishing each book.] As to the “great novel,” which remains to be written, I must tell you that I never believe in future books.... Always after finishing a book I have a period of despair that I can ever again produce anything worth giving to the world. The responsibility of the writer grows heavier and heavier--does it not?--as the world grows older and the voices of the dead more numerous. It is difficult to believe, until the germ of some new work grows into imperious activity within one, that it is possible to make a really needed contribution to the poetry of the world--I mean possible to oneself to do it. [Sidenote: Attitude towards criticism.] I hardly ever read anything that is written about myself--indeed, never unless my husband expressly wishes me to do so by way of exception. I adopted this rule many years ago as a necessary preservative against influences that would have ended by nullifying my power of writing....