of God, and so be off the line
of human notice or applause, and that I was glad I had been enabled to
do it, since literary ambition is unbecoming a Christian woman. There
are 500 other things I should say, if you were here!

The following is a part of the letter referred to: The day after "New
Year's" I was visited with a severe cold and general prostration that
has kept me in my bed--_giving me time!_ As soon as I was strong enough
to read I had "The Home" brought. After reading it I felt I ought to
tell you how deeply I was impressed with the usefulness, excellence, and
spirit of the book. As to its usefulness, you are to be envied; to have
brought light, as I believe you have, to a large number of people upon
the most precious and vital interests of life, is something worth living
and suffering for. The good sense, wisdom, experience, and Christian
faith embodied in it must make it a strong helper and friend to many a
home in trouble and to many perplexed and discouraged hearts, who will
doubtless rise up some day to call you "blessed."

Though you cared less about the manner than the matter, I was impressed
by its literary qualities. The scene at the death of Mrs. Grey and
parting of herself and Margaret is as highly artistic and beautiful
as anything I can think of. The contrast of good and bad, or good and
indifferent, is common enough; but the contrast of what is noble and
what is "saintly" is something infinitely higher and subtler. I can't
imagine anything more exquisitely tender and beautiful than Mrs. Grey's
departure, but it is the more realised by the previous action of
Margaret. The few lines in which this is told bring their whole
character--in each case--vividly before you. But I see that if the book
had previously to this point been differently written it would have been
impossible to have rendered this scene so remarkably impressive. The
story of "Eric" is extremely quaint and charming; it is a vein I am not
familiar with in your writings. It is a little classic. This quaint
child's story and the death of Mrs. Grey affect me as a fine work of art
affects one, whenever I recall them. The trite saying is still true, "A
thing of beauty is a joy forever."

You know children complain of some sweets that they leave a bad
taste--and works of fiction often do with me. I feel tired and
dissatisfied after I have passed out of their excitements; but the
heavenly atmosphere of this book left me better; I know t