quiet in her manners--very loving--and (what she must have been from
the very first) a truly religious soul, in whom the love of God and the
love of man were fused together. There was nothing highly distinctive
in her religious conversation. I had had much intercourse with pious
Dissenters before; the only freshness I found, in our talk, came from
the fact that she had been the greater part of her life a Wesleyan, and
though _she left the society when women were no longer allowed to
preach_, and joined the New Wesleyans, she retained the character of
thought that belongs to the genuine old Wesleyan. I had never talked
with a Wesleyan before, and we used to have little debates about
predestination, for I was then a strong Calvinist. Here her superiority
came out, and I remember now, with loving admiration, one thing which
at the time I disapproved; it was not strictly a consequence of her
Arminian belief, and at first sight might seem opposed to it, yet it
came from the spirit of love which clings to the bad logic of
Arminianism. When my uncle came to fetch her, after she had been with
us a fortnight or three weeks, he was speaking of a deceased minister,
once greatly respected, who from the action of trouble upon him had
taken to small tippling, though otherwise not culpable. "But I hope the
good man's in heaven, for all that," said my uncle. "Oh, yes," said my
aunt, with a deep inward groan of joyful conviction, "Mr. A's in
heaven--that's sure." This was at the time an offence to my stern,
ascetic, hard views--how beautiful it is to me now!

One who has been permitted to read the letters of Marian Evans written to
this aunt, has given the following account of them, which throws much light
on her religious attitude at this period: "Most of the epistles are
addressed to my 'dear uncle and aunt,' and all reveal George Eliot's great
talents. The style is elegant and graceful, and the letters abound in
beautiful metaphor; but their most striking characteristic is the religious