other every day, and in everything we enjoy a delightful comradeship. If
it were not for him my life would be singularly arid."

But about this time another man appeared on the scene, and were it not
for this other man, who was introduced to Miss Evans by Spencer, the
author of "Synthetic Philosophy" might not now be spoken of in the
biographical dictionaries as having been "wedded to science."

It was not love at first sight, for George Henry Lewes made a decidedly
unfavorable impression on Miss Evans at their first meeting. He was
small, his features were insignificant, he had whiskers like an anarchist
and a mouthful of crooked teeth; his personal habits were far from
pleasant. It was this sort of thing, Dickens said, that caused his first
wife to desert him and finally drove her into insanity.

But Lewes had a brilliant mind. He was a linguist, a scientist, a
novelist, a poet and a wit. He had written biography, philosophy and a
play. He had been a journalist, a lecturer and even an actor. Thackeray
declared that if he should see Lewes perched on a white elephant in
Piccadilly he should not be in the least surprised.

After having met Miss Evans several times, Mr. Lewes saw the calm depths
of her mind and he asked her to correct proofs for him. She did so and
discovered that there was merit in his work. She corrected more proofs,
and when a woman begins to assist a man the danger-line is being
approached. Close observers noted that a change was coming over the
bohemian Lewes. He had his whiskers trimmed, his hair was combed, and the
bright yellow necktie had been discarded for a clean one of modest brown,
and, sometimes, his boots were blacked. In July, Eighteen Hundred
Fifty-four, Mr. Chapman received a letter from his sub-editor resigning