"Felix Holt, the Radical," was published in 1866. It has never
been one of George Eliot's very popular books. There is less
in it of her own life and experience than in most of her
novels, less of the homely wit of agricultural England. The
real value of the book is the picture it gives of the social
and political life, and for this reason, it will always be
read by those who want to know what English political methods
and customs were like at the time of the passing of the Reform
Bill of 1832. The character of Mr. Rufus Lyon, the independent
minister, is an admirable study of the non-conformist of that
period. Esther's renunciation of a brilliant fortune for a
humbler lot with the man she loved and admired, was quite in
accord with the teaching George Eliot inculcated all her life.
The scene of the story is laid in the Midlands, and the
action, covering about nine months, begins in 1832.
_I.--The Minister's Daughter_
The Rev. Rufus Lyon, Minister of the Independent Chapel, in the
old-fashioned market town of Treby Magna, in the County of Loumshire,
lived in a small house, adjoining the entry which led to the Chapel
Yard.
He sat this morning, as usual, in a low upstairs room, called his study,
which served also as a sleeping-room, and from time to time got up to
walk about between the piles of old books which lay around him on the
floor. His face looked old and worn, yet the curtain of hair that fell
from his bald crown and hung about his neck retained much of its
original auburn tint, and his large, brown short-sighted eyes were still
clear and bright. At the first glance, everyone thought him a very
odd-looking, rusty old man, and the free-school boys often hooted after
him, and called him "Revelations." But he was too short-sighted and too
absent from the world of small facts and petty impulses to notice those
who tittered at him.
He was meditating on the text for his Sunday morning sermon, when old
Lyddy, the minister's servant, opened the door to tell him that Mrs.
Holt was wanting to see him. "She says she comes out of season, but
she's in trouble."
The minister bade her send Mistress Holt up, and a tall elderly woman
dressed in black entered.
Mrs. Holt, Mr. Lyon said to himself, is a woman who darkens counsel by
words without knowledge, and angers the reason of the natural man; and
he prayed for patience while his visitor rambled on concerning her late
husband and her son Felix.
The minister made out that Felix objected to the sale of his father's
quack medicines, Holt's Elixir and Cancer Cure, and wanted Mr. Lyon to
talk to him.
"For after we'd been to chapel, he spoke better of you than he does of
most: he said you was a fine old fellow, and an old-fashioned Puritan--
he uses dreadful language, Mr. Lyon; but I saw he didn't mean you ill,
for all that; he calls most folks' religion rottenness."
Mrs. Holt departed, and in the evening, when Mr. Lyon was in the
sitting-room, Felix Holt knocked at the door.
The minister, accustomed to the respectable air of provincial townsmen,
felt a slight shock, when his spectacles made clear to him the shaggy-
headed, large-eyed, strong-limbed person of this questionable young man,
without waistcoat or cravat.
Felix spoke loudly and brusquely when the minister mentioned the subject
of Mrs. Holt's visit.
"As to those absurd medicines and gulling advertisements that my mother
has been talking of to you, I've no more doubt about _them_ than I have
about pocket-picking. If I allowed the sale of those medicines to go on,
and my mother to live out of the proceeds when I can keep her by the
honest labour of hands, I've not the least doubt that I should be a
rascal."
"I would fain inquire more particularly into your objection to these
medicines," said Mr. Lyon gravely.
"My father was ignorant," said Felix, bluntly. "I know something about
these things. I was 'prentice for five miserable years to a stupid brute
of a country apothecary--my poor father left money for that--he thought
nothing could be finer for me. No matter: I know that the Cathartic
Pills may be as bad as poison to half the people who swallow them, and
that the cancer cure might as well be bottled ditch-water. I can keep my
mother, as well, nay, better, than she keeps herself. With my watch and
clock cleaning, and teaching one or two little chaps that I've got to
come to me, I can earn enough."
Mr. Lyon's suggestion that some situation might be obtained as clerk or
assistant was brushed aside.
"Why should I want to get into the middle class because I have some
learning? The most of the middle class are as ignorant as the working
people about everything that doesn't belong to their own Brummagem
life."
The entrance of Lyddy with the tea tray disturbed the conversation, but
the minister, interested in his visitor, asked Felix to stay for a dish
of tea, and Felix accepted.
"My daughter, who has been detained in giving a lesson in the French
tongue, has doubtless returned now," said the minister. On the entrance
of the young lady, Felix was conscious she was not the sort of person he
had expected the minister's daughter to be, and the incongruity repelled
him. There were things about her, her walk, the long neck and high crown
of shining brown hair, that suggested a fine lady to him. A fine lady
was always a sort of spun glass affair; but a fine lady as the daughter
of this rusty old Puritan was especially offensive.
The discovery that Miss Lyon read Byron set Felix off on a tirade
against the poet, and his works, and throughout the meal no agreement on
any topic seemed possible between Esther and the guest.
Felix noted that Mr. Lyon was devoted to his daughter and stood in some
fear of her.
"That is a singular young man, Esther," said the minister, when Felix
had gone. "I discern in him a love for whatever things are honest and
true, and I feel a great enlargement in his presence."
"I think he is very coarse and rude," said Esther, with a touch of
temper. "But he speaks better English than most of our visitors. What is
his occupation?"
"Watch and clock making, my dear."
Esther was disappointed, she thought he was something higher than that.
Felix on his side wondered how the queer old minister had a daughter so
little in his own likeness. He decided that nothing should make him
marry.
_II.--The Election Riot_
The return of Mr. Harold Transome, to Transome Court, after fifteen
years' absence, and his adoption as Radical Candidate for the county
created no little stir and excitement in Treby. It also assisted the
growing intimacy between Mr. Lyon and Felix Holt, for though neither
possessed votes in that memorable year 1832, they shared the same
liberal sympathies. Perhaps the most delightful friendships are those in
which there is much agreement, much disputation, and yet more personal
liking; and the advent of the public-spirited, contradictory, yet
affectionate Felix, into Treby life had made a welcome epoch to the
minister.
Esther had not seen so much of their new acquaintance as her father had.
But she had begun to find him amusing, though he always opposed and
criticised her, and looked at her as if he never saw a single detail
about her person. It seemed to Esther that he thought slightly of her.
"But, rude and queer as he is, I cannot say there is anything vulgar
about him," she said to herself.
One Sunday afternoon Felix Holt rapped at the door of Mr. Lyon's house,
although he could hear the voice of the minister in the chapel.
Esther was in the kitchen alone, reading a French romance, and she
opened the door and invited him in.
He scoffed at her book, and as the talk went on, upbraided her for her
vanity. Finally he told her that he wanted her to change. "Of course, I
am a brute to say so," he added. "I ought to say you are perfect.
Another man would, perhaps; I can't bear to see you going the way of the
foolish women who spoil men's lives."
Mortification and anger filled Esther's mind, and when Felix got up to
say he was going, she returned his "good-bye" without even looking at
him.
Only, when the door closed she burst into tears. She revolted against
his assumption of superiority.... Did he love her one little bit, and
was that the reason why he wanted her to change? But Esther was quite
sure she could never love anyone who was so much of a pedagogue and a
master.
Yet, a few weeks later, and Esther accepted willingly when Felix
proposed a walk for the first time together. That same afternoon he told
her that she was very beautiful, and that he would never be rich: he
intended going away to some manufacturing town to lead the people to
better things and this meant a life of poverty.
Something Esther said made Felix ask suddenly, "Can you imagine yourself
choosing hardship as the better lot?"
"Yes, I can," she answered, flushing over neck and brow. They walked
home very silently after that. Felix struggling as a firm man struggles
with a temptation, Esther struggling as a woman struggles with the
yearning for some expression of love.
On the day of the election a mob of miners, primed with liquor by an
unscrupulous agent of Transome's, came into the town to hoot the Tory
voters; and as the disturbance increased, Felix knowing that Mr. Lyon
was away preaching went round to the minister's house to reassure
Esther.
"I am so thankful to see you," she said eagerly. He mentioned that the
magistrates and constables were coming and that the town would be
quieter. His only fear was that drinking might inflame the mob again.
Again Felix told her of his renunciation of the ordinary hopes and
ambitions of men, and at the same time tried to prove that he thought
very highly of her. He wanted her to know that her love was dear to him,
and he felt that they must not marry--to do so would be to ruin each
other's lives.
When Felix went out into the streets in the afternoon, the crowd was
larger and more mischievous. The constables were quite unable to cope
with the mob, the polling booth was closed for the day, and the
magistrates had sent to the neighbouring town of Duffield for the
military.
There were proofs that the predominant will of the crowd was in favour
of Transome for several shops were attacked and they were all of them
"Tory shops."
Felix was soon hotly occupied trying to save a wretched publican named
Spratt from the fury of the crowd. The man had been dragged out into the
streets, and Felix had got as near him as he could when a young
constable armed with a sabre rushed upon him. It was a choice of two
evils, and quick as lightning Felix frustrated him, the constable fell
undermost and Felix got his weapon. Tucker did not rise immediately, but
Felix did not imagine that he was much hurt, and bidding the crowd
follow him tried to lead them away from the town. He hoped that the
soldiers would soon arrive, and felt confident that there would be no
resistance to a military force.
Suddenly a cry was raised, "Let us go to Treby Manor," the residence of
Sir Maximus Debarry, whose son was the Tory candidate.
From that moment Felix was powerless, and was carried along with the
rush. All he could hope to do was to get to the front terrace of the
house, and assure the inmates that the soldiers would arrive quickly.
Just as he approached a large window he heard the horses of the
troopers, and then came the words, "Halt! Fire!" Before he had time to
move a bullet whizzed, and passed through Felix Holt's shoulder--the
shoulder of the arm that bore the sabre.
Felix fell. The rioters ran confusedly, like terrified sheep.
It was a weary night for Felix, and the next day his wound was declared
trivial, and he was lodged in Loumford Jail. There were three charges
against him; that he had assaulted a constable, that he had committed
manslaughter (Tucker was dead from spinal concussion), and that he had
led a riotous onslaught on a dwelling house.
Four other men were arrested, one for theft, and three others for riot
and assault.
_III.--The Trial_
A great change took place in the fortunes of Esther in the interval
between the riot and the opening of the assizes. It was found that she,
and not Harold Transome, was the rightful owner of the Transome estates.
For Esther's real name was Bycliffe and not Lyon, and she was the
step-daughter only of the minister. Mr. Lyon had found Esther's mother,
a French woman of great beauty, in destitution--her husband, an
Englishman, lying in some unknown prison. This Englishman was a
Bycliffe--and heir to the Transome property, and on the proof of his
death Mr. Lyon, knowing nothing of Bycliffe's family, married his widow,
who, however, died while Esther was still a tiny child. Not till the
time of the election did Esther learn that her real father was dead.
Mr. Transome's lawyer--Jermyn--was fully aware of the claim of the
Bycliffes, but knew they were powerless without money to enforce the
claim, and that Esther and her step-father alike were ignorant of all
the facts. It was only when Harold Transome, on his return, quarrelled
with Jermyn on the management of the estates, and, after the Election
(which Transome lost) threatened him with a law-suit, that Jermyn turned
round and told Harold the truth. At the same time, another lawyer,
formerly in Jermyn's confidence, thought the more profitable course
could be found in throwing Jermyn over, and wrote to Esther informing
her of her inheritance.
Harold Transome decided to act openly. With his mother, he drove to the
minister's house and Mrs. Transome persuaded Esther to come and stay at
Transome Court. Both mother and son found Esther to their liking, and it
appeared to Harold that marriage with Esther would be a happy conclusion
to the divided claim to the property. He was rich, and the Transome (or
Bycliffe) property was heavily encumbered.
The Transomes, Esther and Mr. Lyon all agreed that no law-suit over the
property should take place.
But while Esther stayed at Transome Court she never forgot her friend in
prison. Mr. Lyon had visited Felix, and Esther herself obtained an
interview with him just before the assizes began.
She had grown conscious that Harold Transome was making love to her,
that Mrs. Transome really desired her for a daughter-in-law, and it
seemed to her as she waited with the minister in the cheerless prison
room, that she stood at the first and last parting of the ways.
Soon the door opened, and Felix Holt entered.
"Miss Lyon--Esther!" and her hand was in his grasp. He was just the
same--no, something inexpressibly better, because of the distance and
separation, which made him like the return of morning.
"Take no heed of me, children," said Mr. Lyon. "I have some notes to
make." And the old man sat down at a window with his back to them,
writing with his head bent close to the paper.
Felix had heard of Esther's change of fortune and felt sure she would
marry Harold Transome. It was only when the time for parting came that
he could bring himself to say:
"I had a horrible struggle, Esther. But you see I was right. There was a
fitting lot in reserve for you." Esther felt too miserable for tears to
come. She looked helplessly at Felix for a moment, then took her hands
from his, and turning away mutely, said, "Father, I am ready--there is
no more to say."
"Esther."
She heard Felix say the word, with an entreating cry, and went towards
him swiftly. He clasped her, and they kissed each other.
When the trial came on Esther went under Mrs. Transome's protection to
the court.
The case against Felix looked very black when the prosecution closed.
Various respectable witnesses swore to the prisoner's leadership of the
mob, to his fatal assault on Tucker, and to his attitude in front of the
drawing-room window at the Manor.
Felix then gave a concise narrative of his motives and conduct on the
day of the riot, and explained that in throwing the constable down he
had not foreseen the possibility of death ensuing. It was a good,
straightforward speech, not without a touch of defiant independence,
which did the prisoner little good with judge or jury.
Mr. Lyon and Harold Transome both gave evidence in favour of Felix,
stating that the prisoner had often expressed his hatred of rioting, and
had protested with indignation against the treating that went on during
the election by some of the Radical agents.
One or two witnesses were called who swore that Felix had tried to lead
the mob in the opposite direction to Treby Manor, and it was understood
that the case for the defence was closed.
Then it came to Esther that she must speak if Felix was to be saved.
There had been no witness to tell what had been his behaviour just
before the riot. There was time, but not too much time.
Before Harold Transome was aware of Esther's intention she was on her
way to the witness-box.
A sort of gleam shot across the face of Felix Holt, and anyone close to
the prisoner would have seen that his hand trembled, for the first time,
at Esther's beautiful aspect. There was no blush on her face: she stood,
divested of all personal consideration whether of vanity or shyness, and
gave her story as if she had been making a confession of faith.
She knew Felix Holt well, she said. He came to see her on the day of the
election, and told her he feared the men might collect again after
drinking. "It was the last thing he would have done to join in riot or
to hurt any man, if he could have helped it. He could never have had any
intention that was not brave and good."
When she was back in her place Felix could not help looking towards her,
and their eyes met in one solemn glance.
Esther stayed in court till the end. She heard the verdict, "Guilty of
Manslaughter," followed by the judge's sentence, "Imprisonment for four
years." But so great was the impression made by Esther's speech that a
petition to the Home Secretary was at once set on foot by the leading
men of the county.
_IV.--Felix and Esther_
One April day, when the sun shone on the lingering raindrops, Lyddy was
gone out, and Esther chose to sit in the kitchen. She was not reading,
but stitching, and as her fingers moved nimbly, something played about
her lips like a ray.
A loud rap came at the door.
"Mr. Lyon at home?" said Felix in his firm tones. "No, sir," said
Esther: "but Miss Lyon is, if you'll please to walk in."
"Esther!" exclaimed Felix, amazed.
They held each other by both hands, and looked into each other's faces
with delight.
"You are out of prison?"
"Yes, till I do something bad again. But you--how is it all? Are you
come back to live here then?"
"Yes."
"You are not going to be married to Harold Transome, or to be rich?"
"No."
"Why?" said Felix in rather a low tone, leaning his elbow on the table,
and resting his head on his hand while he looked at her.
"I did not wish to marry him, or to be rich."
"You have given it all up?" said Felix, leaning forward a little and
speaking in a still lower tone. "Could you share the life of a poor man,
then, Esther?"
"If I thought well enough of him," she said, with a smile, and a pretty
movement of her head.
"Have you considered well what it would be?--that it would be a very
bare and simple life? and the people I shall live among, Esther? They
have not just the same follies and vices as the rich, but they have
their own forms of folly and vice. It is very serious, Esther."
"I know it is serious," said Esther, looking up at him. "Since I have
been at Transome Court I have seen many things very seriously. If I had
not, I should not have left what I did leave. I made a deliberate
choice."
She could not tell him that at Transome Court, all that finally seemed
balanced against her love for him, was the offer of a silken bondage
that arrested all motive, and was nothing better than a well-cushioned
despair. A vision of being restless amidst ease, of being languid among
all appliances had quickened her resignation of the Transome estates.
Esther explained, however, that she thought of retaining a little of the
wealth.
"How?" said Felix, anxiously. "What do you mean?"
"I think even of two pounds a week: one needn't live up to the splendour
of all that, you know: we might live as simply as you liked. And then I
think of a little income for your mother, and a little income for my
father, to save him from being dependent when he is no longer able to
preach!"
Felix put his hand on her shoulder, said, lifting up his eyes with a
smile:
"Why, I shall be able to set up a great library, and lend the books!"
They laughed merrily, each holding the other's arms, like girl and boy.
There was the ineffable sense of youth in common.
Then Felix leaned forward, that their lips might meet, and after that
his eyes roved tenderly over her face and curls.
"I'm a rough, severe fellow, Esther. Shall you never repent?--never be
inwardly reproaching me that I was not a man who could have shared your
wealth? Are you quite sure?"
The very next May, Felix and Esther were married. Everyone in those days
was married at the parish church; but Mr. Lyon was not satisfied without
an additional private solemnity, "so that he might have a more enlarged
utterance of joy and supplication."
It was a very simple wedding; but no wedding, even the gayest, ever
raised so much interest and debate in Treby Magna. Even the very great
people of the county went to the church to look at this bride, who had
renounced wealth, and chosen to be the wife of a man who said he would
always be poor.
Some few shook their heads; could not quite believe it; and thought
there was more behind. But the majority of honest Trebians were affected
somewhat in the same way as Mr. Wall, the brewer of the town, who
observed to his wife as they walked home, "I feel somehow as if I
believed more in everything that's good."
Felix and Esther did not take up their abode in Treby Magna; and after
awhile Mr. Lyon left the town too, and joined them where they dwelt.
As to the town in which Felix Holt now resides I will keep that a
secret.
I will only say that Esther has never repented. Felix, however, grumbles
a little that she has made his life too easy.
There is a young Felix, who has a great deal more science than his
father, but not much more money.
* * * * *