ion. Art itself is a sufficient refutation of the assertion that
we know nothing of what lies behind the apparent. That we know something of
causes, every person who uses his own mind may be aware. At the same time,
the rejection of the doctrine of rights argues obedience to a theory,
rather than humble acceptance of the facts of history. That doctrine of
rights, so scorned by George Eliot, has wrought most of the great and
wholesome social changes of modern times. Her theory of duties can show no
historic results whatever.

To separate George Eliot's theories from her genius it seems impossible
to do, but this it is necessary to do in order to give both their proper
place. All praise, her work demands on its side where genius is active.
It is as a thinker, as a theorizer, she is to be criticised and to be
declared wanting. Her work was crippled by her philosophy, or if not
crippled, then it was made less strong of limb and vigorous of body by that
same philosophy. It is true of her as of Wordsworth, that she grew prosy
because she tried to be philosophical. It is true of her as it is not true
of him, that her work lacks in the breadth which a large view of the world
gives. His was no provincial conception of nature or of man. Hers was so in
a most emphatic sense. The philosophy she adopted is not and cannot become
the philosophy of more than a small number of persons. In the nature of the
case it is doomed to be the faith of a few students and cultured people.
It can stir no common life, develop no historic movements, inaugurate no
reforms, nor give to life a diviner meaning. Whether it be true or
not,--and this need not here be asked,--this social and moral limitation of
its power is enough to condemn it for the purposes of literature. In so far
as George Eliot's work is artistic, poetic, moral and human, it is very
great, and no word too strong can be said in its praise. It is not too
excessive enthusiasm to call her, on the whole, the equal of any novelist.
Her genius is commanding and elemental. She has originality, strength of
purpose, and a profound insight into character. Yet her work is weakened by
its attachment to a narrow theory of life. Her philosophy is transitory in
its nature. It cannot hold its own, as developed by her, for any great
length of time. It has the elements of its own destruction in itself. The
curious may read her for her speculations; the many will read her for her
realism, her humanity and