Felix Holt, the Radical (Oxford World's Classics)
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
As in all of George Eliot's best work, every class of society is included in this portrait of political ferment and corrupt electioneering in a small Midland borough in 1832. At the heart of the novel is George Eliot's conviction that "men's lives are as thoroughly blended with each other as the air they breathe; evil spreads as necessarily as disease."
inwardly vexed, but sufficiently prepared not to seem so. ‘Only yesterday,’ said Esther, quite simply, ‘I received a letter from some lawyers with a statement of many surprising things, showing that I was an heiress’ – here she turned very prettily to address Mrs Transome – ‘which, as you may imagine, is one of the last things I could have supposed myself to be.’ ‘My dear,’ said Mrs Transome with elderly grace, just laying her hand for an instant on Esther’s, ‘it is a lot that would become you
conceive that town and country had no pulse in common, except where the handlooms made a far-reaching straggling fringe about the great centres of manufacture; that till the agitation about the Catholics in ’29,13 rural Englishmen had hardly known more of Catholics than of the fossil mammals; and that their notion of Reform was a confused combination of rick-burners, trades-unions, Nottingham riots,14 and in general whatever required the calling-out of the yeomanry. It was still easier to see
anxiety is not credulous of easy solutions. The one stay that bears up our hopes is sure to appear frail, and if looked at long will seem to totter. Too much depended on that unconsciousness of Harold’s; and although Jermyn did not see the course of things that could have disclosed and combined the various items of knowledge which he had imagined to be his own secret, and therefore his safeguard, he saw quite clearly what was likely to be the result of the disclosure. Not only would Harold
evils: I should else have been disabled. And he attacked me under a mistake about my intentions. I’m not prepared to say I never would assault a constable where I had more chance of deliberation. I certainly should assault him if I saw him doing anything that made my blood boil: I reverence the law, but not where it is a pretext for wrong, which it should be the very object of law to hinder. I consider that I should be making an unworthy defence, if I let the Court infer from what I say myself,
fearlessness and decision in his voice which startled all flaccid men and unruly boys. ‘What are you going to do, Phil?’ he added, seeing his nephew rise. ‘To write, of course. Those other matters are yours, I suppose?’ said Mr Debarry, looking at Christian. ‘Yes, sir.’ ‘I shall send you with a letter to the preacher. You can describe your own property. And the seal, uncle – was it your coat-of-arms?’ ‘No, it was this head of Achilles. Here, I can take it off the ring, and you can carry it,