DANIEL DERONDA

By George Eliot

Let thy chief terror be of thine own soul:
There, ’mid the throng of hurrying desires
That trample on the dead to seize their spoil,
Lurks vengeance, footless, irresistible
As exhalations laden with slow death,
And o’er the fairest troop of captured joys
Breathes pallid pestilence.


Contents

[DANIEL DERONDA.]
[BOOK I.—THE SPOILED CHILD.]
[CHAPTER I.]
[CHAPTER II.]
[CHAPTER III.]
[CHAPTER IV.]
[CHAPTER V.]
[CHAPTER VI.]
[CHAPTER VII.]
[CHAPTER VIII.]
[CHAPTER IX.]
[CHAPTER X.]
[BOOK II.—MEETING STREAMS.]
[CHAPTER XI.]
[CHAPTER XII.]
[CHAPTER XIII.]
[CHAPTER XIV.]
[CHAPTER XV.]
[CHAPTER XVI.]
[CHAPTER XVII.]
[CHAPTER XVIII.]
[BOOK III.—MAIDENS CHOOSING.]
[CHAPTER XIX.]
[CHAPTER XX.]
[CHAPTER XXI.]
[CHAPTER XXII.]
[CHAPTER XXIII.]
[CHAPTER XXIV.]
[CHAPTER XXV.]
[CHAPTER XXVI.]
[CHAPTER XXVII.]
[BOOK IV.—GWENDOLEN GETS HER CHOICE.]
[CHAPTER XXVIII.]
[CHAPTER XXIX.]
[CHAPTER XXX.]
[CHAPTER XXXI.]
[CHAPTER XXXII.]
[CHAPTER XXXIII.]
[CHAPTER XXXIV.]
[BOOK V.—MORDECAI.]
[CHAPTER XXXV.]
[CHAPTER XXXVI.]
[CHAPTER XXXVII.]
[CHAPTER XXXVIII.]
[CHAPTER XXXIX.]
[CHAPTER XL.]
[BOOK VI.—REVELATIONS]
[CHAPTER XLI.]
[CHAPTER XLII.]
[CHAPTER XLIII.]
[CHAPTER XLIV.]
[CHAPTER XLV.]
[CHAPTER XLVI.]
[CHAPTER XLVII.]
[CHAPTER XLVIII.]
[CHAPTER XLIX.]
[BOOK VII.—THE MOTHER AND THE SON]
[CHAPTER L.]
[CHAPTER LI.]
[CHAPTER LII.]
[CHAPTER LIII.]
[CHAPTER LIV.]
[CHAPTER LV.]
[CHAPTER LVI.]
[CHAPTER LVII.]
[ BOOK VIII.—FRUIT AND SEED.]
[CHAPTER LVIII.]
[CHAPTER LIX.]
[CHAPTER LX.]
[CHAPTER LXI.]
[CHAPTER LXII.]
[CHAPTER LXIII.]
[CHAPTER LXIV.]
[CHAPTER LXV.]
[CHAPTER LXVI.]
[CHAPTER LXVII.]
[CHAPTER LXVIII.]
[CHAPTER LXIX.]
[CHAPTER LXX.]

DANIEL DERONDA.

BOOK I.—THE SPOILED CHILD.

CHAPTER I.

Men can do nothing without the make-believe of a beginning. Even science, the strict measurer, is obliged to start with a make-believe unit, and must fix on a point in the stars’ unceasing journey when his sidereal clock shall pretend that time is at Nought. His less accurate grandmother Poetry has always been understood to start in the middle; but on reflection it appears that her proceeding is not very different from his; since Science, too, reckons backward as well as forward, divides his unit into billions, and with his clock-finger at Nought really sets off in medias res. No retrospect will take us to the true beginning; and whether our prologue be in heaven or on earth, it is but a fraction of that all-presupposing fact with which our story sets out.