“DEAR SIR,
“Among the shoals of letters which doubtless you now receive
may I place this, so that I may thank you for the invaluable
work which you are doing in writing your novels.
“The article in to-day’s _Daily Mail_ shows me that you have
grasped the ideal which I have tried to attain since my teens
(three years).
“I am one of the lonely digits in ‘diggins,’ who either fall or
rise, according to the company they keep. I have thus found
that religion is to man what the rudder is to the crew of a
ship.
“I have regularly attended church since my exile, and delight
to hear the beautiful service of the English Church. Are they
not precious words and inspiring. The service effectually
clears me of that ugly black cloak of worldliness which clings
to me during the working days.
“This, I believe, is the lesson which you are engraving so well
on the minds of all people.
“I conclude with the wish that your pen will ever respond to
the spirit which now animates you.”
Again from a far country, this time near East Guzna, W. Tarsus,
Cilicia:--
“MY DEAR SIR,
“For weeks I have wanted to write and thank you for your book,
_When it was Dark_, but I have been laid aside with fever. It
stirs thousands of us, and you must feel thankful as you look
round to see the success which is granted you in drawing people
to ponder upon subjects of such weight. You will like to know
that I have spread your book right and left in Cyprus, having
obtained three copies, one of which I sent to a Judge.
“Your account of the ride to Nablous is a vivid word picture,
and you must, I think, be familiar with the East.
“May I say that I find a dignity and vivacity in your book,
dealing as you do with so solemn and glorious a subject as our
Lord’s Resurrection, which I firmly hold, and have been
accustomed to put in the forefront of my teaching as missionary
both in Australia and Russia.
“At present my work lies in Cyprus, where I find good
opportunities of helping on friendliness with the Greek Church.
“I am now on holiday, and have just given away my last copy of
_When it was Dark_ while staying in the Carmelite Monastery at
Haiffa, with those charming French Pères, to an American canon
who was also there.
“Sir, what I want to do is to suggest that you should have your
book translated into French and German. I lent it to a French
engineer a month ago, and I feel sure it would do good in those
countries. Think this out. You might take the advice of some
competent friend.
“I should like to do the translating myself, but I should make
so many mistakes, _Magna est veritas, et prævalebit_.
“Have sent home for _A Lost Cause_, and am expecting another
treat, with some salt of sarcasm.
“With sincere respect and gratitude.”
My kind correspondent’s idea has been carried out, I am glad to say.
The book in question has been translated into French and German and
several other languages. And in this regard I may perhaps mention the
surprise I have felt on learning that the French issue has already
gone into three editions. I am in France a good deal each year, and
know something of the temper of the reading public there to-day. I had
not thought that many people would read the book.