‘A.  I. NOEL BYRON.’

As soon as a copy of ‘Dred’ was through the press, I sent it to her, saying that I had been reproved by some excellent people for representing too faithfully the profane language of some of the wicked characters.  To this she sent the following reply:—­

’Your book, dear Mrs. Stowe, is of the little leaven kind, and must prove a great moral force; perhaps not manifestly so much as secretly.  And yet I can hardly conceive so much power without immediate and sensible effects:  only there will be a strong disposition to resist on the part of all hollow-hearted professors of religion, whose heathenisms you so unsparingly expose.  They have a class feeling like others.

’To the young, and to those who do not reflect much on what is offered to their belief, you will do great good by showing how spiritual food is often adulterated.  The bread from heaven is in the same case as bakers’ bread.

’If there is truth in what I heard Lord Byron say, that works of fiction live only by the amount of truth which they contain, your story is sure of a long life.  Of the few critiques I have seen, the best is in “The Examiner.”  I find an obtuseness as to the spirit and aim of the book, as if you had designed to make the best novel of the season, or to keep up the reputation of one.  You are reproached, as Walter Scott was, with too much scriptural quotation; not, that I have heard, with phrases of an opposite character.

’The effects of such reading till a late hour one evening appeared to influence me very singularly in a dream.  The most horrible spectres presented themselves, and I woke in an agony of fear; but a faith still stronger arose, and I became courageous from trust in God, and felt calm.  Did you do this?  It is very insignificant among the many things you certainly will do unknown to yourself.  I know more than ever before how to value communion with you.  I have sent Robertson’s Sermons for you; and, with kind regards to your family, am

’Yours affectionately,

‘A.  I. NOEL BYRON.’

I was struck in this note with the mention of Lord Byron, and, the next time I saw her, alluded to it, and remarked upon the peculiar qualities of his mind as shown in some of his more serious conversations with Dr. Kennedy.

She seemed pleased to continue the subject, and went on to say many things of his singular character and genius, more penetrating and more appreciative than is often met with among critics.

I told her that I had been from childhood powerfully influenced by him; and began to tell her how much, as a child, I had been affected by the news of his death,—­giving up all my plays, and going off to a lonely hillside, where I spent the afternoon thinking of him.  She interrupted me before I had quite finished, with a quick, impulsive movement.  ’I know all that,’ she said:  ’I