Quotation of the Day

More helpful than all wisdom is one draught of simple human pity that will not forsake us.

George Eliot (1819-1880)

Context from: THE MILL ON THE FLOSS

BOOK VII - The Final Rescue

BOOK VII - CHAPTER I

The Return to the Mill


"Tom," she said, crushing her hands together under her cloak, in the effort to speak again, "whatever I have done, I repent it bitterly. I want to make amends. I will endure anything. I want to be kept from doing wrong again."
"What _will_ keep you?" said Tom, with cruel bitterness. "Not religion; not your natural feelings of gratitude and honor. And he — he would deserve to be shot, if it were not — — But you are ten times worse than he is. I loathe your character and your conduct. You struggled with your feelings, you say. Yes! _I_ have had feelings to struggle with; but I conquered them. I have had a harder life than you have had; but I have found _my_ comfort in doing my duty. But I will sanction no such character as yours; the world shall know that _I_ feel the difference between right and wrong. If you are in want, I will provide for you; let my mother know. But you shall not come under my roof. It is enough that I have to bear the thought of your disgrace; the sight of you is hateful to me."
Slowly Maggie was turning away with despair in her heart. But the poor frightened mother's love leaped out now, stronger than all dread.
"My child! I'll go with you. You've got a mother."
Oh, the sweet rest of that embrace to the heart-stricken Maggie! More helpful than all wisdom is one draught of simple human pity that will not forsake us.
Tom turned and walked into the house.
"Come in, my child," Mrs. Tulliver whispered. "He'll let you stay and sleep in my bed. He won't deny that if I ask him."
"No, mother," said Maggie, in a low tone, like a moan. "I will never go in."
"Then wait for me outside. I'll get ready and come with you."
When his mother appeared with her bonnet on, Tom came out to her in the passage, and put money into her hands.
"My house is yours, mother, always," he said. "You will come and let me know everything you want; you will come back to me."
Poor Mrs. Tulliver took the money, too frightened to say anything. The only thing clear to her was the mother's instinct that she would go with her unhappy child.

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