Having said so much of my invalid’s _mind_, I must mournfully add of his _bodily_ frame, that it gradually declines, yet so imperceptibly, that it requires such minute observation as strong affection can alone awaken, to perceive the progress of decay. My dear children, and our friend Mr. Otway, unite in kindest remembrances to you. Speak of us all to our poor neighbours with affectionate recollection, and tell them that I long to re-visit my little valley, and am only supported through the pain of absence from home, and the fatigue of more society, than for many years I have been accustomed to, by the pleasant assurance that I am not _uselessly_ employed. The remarks of my young people, in a land of strangers, furnish me too with a perpetual source of gratification, they are so true to nature and good sense, as well as feeling. We continue to hear constantly from Arthur, who is happy in the company of Mr. Charles Falkland, a young man whose friendship I anticipate for my Frederick with great pleasure. We hear also of Lord and Lady Crayton, of whom I wish I could add that our accounts are agreeable. Lord C. is, I fear, ill calculated to make my poor niece happy; and they both exhibit, but too faithfully, a specimen of fashionable marriage. I tremble, as I look forward, and bless God when I gaze with thankfulness on my children, that they have been preserved from the vortex of folly, which draws thousands daily into its dangerous and seductive abyss. Can all the riches of the East, added to all “the boast of heraldry, and pomp of power,” supply the place of domestic love, or compensate for the absence of moral virtue? I sometimes feel like an old picture that, after having been hung up during a century, has suddenly received the gift of animation, and descended from its frame to mingle in the social group. The _world_, even as seen at this distance from our metropolis, appears almost as new to me as to my girls; and, I am sorry to confess, how little find in it to gratify my mental taste. Perhaps retirement may have soured my disposition, but if this be not the case, society is not _improved_ in this kingdom. We are encircled by people of princely fortune; and luxury, in all its fertility of invention, reigns throughout this rich and beautiful country. But, oh! how much I miss the England of my early recollections! Mr. Otway and I often mourn over the progress of what is falsely called refinement, which has made the lower classes forget the simple sobriety, the active industry, the nice cleanliness of former times, and has rendered the higher orders a disgusting engraftment of foreign manners, customs, and language, upon a British stock. My dear home! My pure mountain breezes and rational fire-side, I sigh to behold you once more! Adieu, my valued friend. I hope to hear from you before we leave Marsden, and am, Sincerely yours, CAROLINE DOUGLAS.