“There is nothing, my Lord, in this extract which, in a literary sense, can at all interest you; but it may, perhaps, appear to you worthy of reflection how deep and expansive a concern for the happiness of others the Christian faith can awaken in the midst of youth and prosperity.  Here is nothing poetical and splendid, as in the expostulatory homage of M. Delamartine; but here is the sublime, my Lord; for this intercession was offered, on your account, to the supreme Source of happiness.  It sprang from a faith more confirmed than that of the French poet:  and from a charity which, in combination with faith, showed its power unimpaired amidst the languors and pains of approaching dissolution.  I will hope that a prayer, which, I am sure, was deeply sincere, may not be always unavailing.

“It would add nothing, my Lord, to the fame with which your genius has surrounded you, for an unknown and obscure individual to express his admiration of it.  I had rather be numbered with those who wish and pray, that ‘wisdom from above,’ and ‘peace,’ and ‘joy,’ may enter such a mind.

     “JOHN SHEPPARD.”

[Footnote 70:  See “Thoughts on Private Devotion,” by Mr. Sheppard.]

* * * * *

However romantic, in the eyes of the cold and worldly, the piety of this young person may appear, it were to be wished that the truly Christian feeling which dictated her prayer were more common among all who profess the same creed; and that those indications of a better nature, so visible even through the clouds of his character, which induced this innocent young woman to pray for Byron, while living, could have the effect of inspiring others with more charity towards his memory, now that he is dead.

The following is Lord Byron’s answer to this affecting communication.

LETTER 469.  TO MR. SHEPPARD.

     “Pisa, December 8. 1821.

     “Sir,

“I have received your letter.  I need not say, that the extract which it contains has affected me, because it would imply a want of all feeling to have read it with indifference.  Though I am not quite sure that it was intended by the writer for me, yet the date, the place where it was written, with some other circumstances that you mention, render the allusion probable.  But for whomever it was meant, I have read it with all the pleasure which can arise from so melancholy a topic.  I say pleasure—­because your brief and simple picture of the life and demeanour of the excellent person whom I trust you will again meet, cannot be contemplated without the admiration due to her virtues, and her pure and unpretending piety.  Her last moments were particularly striking; and I do not know that, in the course of reading the story of mankind, and still less in my observations upon the existing