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Lewes's 'History of Philosophy, and presumably, therefore, expressing the sentiments of both writers, Comte is described as pronouncing inappropriate to the Science of Society, the method universally admitted to be proper to all other sciences that, namely, of obtaining by induction the laws of the elementary phenomena, then, from these laws thinking out deductively those of the complex phenomena, and, finally, of verifying by specific observation the laws obtained by deduction.
Grote has written learnedly on Socrates and the other great lights. Lewes's Biographical History of Philosophy has the merit of clearness, and is very interesting, but rather superficial. See also Thomas Stanley's History of Philosophy, and the articles in Smith's Dictionary on the leading ancient philosophers. Schleiermacher, on Socrates, translated by Bishop Thirlwall, is well worth attention.
The "Leader" gives forth Lewes's version of Comte's Philosophy; and the "Glasgow Mechanics' Journal," a digest of his Law of Human Progress, which is essentially atheistic. Nor is indigenous Atheism wanting. Mr. Mackay in his "Progress of the Intellect," Atkinson and Martineau in their "Letters on the Laws of Man's Nature and Development," and Mr.
Lewes's train of argument that the "first condition of all writing is sincerity, and that one means of securing sincerity is to insist on personal responsibility," and that this personal responsibility can only be secured by signing articles. The old talk of "literary bravoes," "men in masks," "anonymous assassins," and so forth, is out of date.
And then our visit to the Lewes's in their lovely home drew to an end, and we said our farewells, little thinking as we four stood in that porch, that we should never in this world look on their faces more. The history of George Eliot's intellect is to a great extent legible in her books.
Lewes's acquaintance, and many of the roundabout pedantries that displeased people in her latest writings, and were set down to his account, appeared in her composition before she had ever exchanged a word with him. All who knew her well enough were aware that she had what Mr.
Once at Longfellow's own table the conversation chanced upon Goethe, and a gentleman present remarked that Goethe was in the habit of drinking three bottles of hock a day. "Who said he did?" inquired the poet. "It is in Lewes's biography," said the gentleman. "I do not believe it," replied Longfellow, "unless," he added with a laugh, "they were very small bottles." A few days afterwards Prof.
She became a mother to Lewes's children, and a true wife to him, though neither a priest nor a registrar blessed their union. She chose between the law of custom and the higher law, facing the world's frown, and relying on her own strength to bear the consequences of her act. To call such a woman a wanton and a kept mistress is to confess one's self devoid of sense and sensibility.
"What volume has he got to now?" asked Lewes. Lewes was no less quick in drawing his inference than Challis had been. "Well, that settles it, I should think," was Lewes's comment. "Wait, wait," returned Challis. The Wonder turned a dozen pages at once, glanced at the new opening, made a further brief examination of two or three headings near the end of the volume, closed the book, and looked up.
All her life, I think, she suffered because of the perpetual insurgence of this secret, impassioned, maternal energy. It was impossible for Charlotte to protest against anything but the abominable bad taste of Lewes's article, otherwise she might have told him that she probably knew rather more about those mysteries than he did. It was she who gave us that supreme image of disastrous love.
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