The ladies here, as they are almost everywhere, are the best part of society. Many of them and their children speak English very well, whose husbands cannot speak a word of that language. There is a Princess Tscherbatoff here with whom I have become very intimate. She has a charming family and they have travelled much through Europe. She is a lady of uncommon intellect, brilliant accomplishments, and yet preserves great personal attractions. I mention her name for the purpose of introducing a circumstance somewhat singular. By some means or other she got hold of the “Pilgrim’s Progress,” and it has evidently produced a considerable effect upon her feelings. She has read several of the old English devotional books and likes to converse upon the subject of religion. It is strange that my first and most intimate acquaintance with a Russian Princess should have been with one conversant with the writings of such men as John Bunyan and Isaac Watts. I doubt whether there is another like her in this respect throughout the Empire. She is a member of the Greek Church and attached to it; but informs me that she often goes to hear a Mr. Neal preach, who is, I believe, a kind of English Methodist. Her religion, and I sincerely believe she possesses it, does not prevent her from being very gay and entering into the fashionable amusements of her class. There is no estimating the good which an able and pious man may be instrumental in performing, not only in his own generation, but long after he has been gathered to his fathers. The weather is now about as cold here as it is in Pennsylvania towards the close of November. We have already had a slight fall of snow and several severe frosts. In going out to dinner in the country on the last day of September, I observed a very large oats field in shock. Very little of it had been taken in. You may judge of the nature of the climate from this circumstance, though this season has been remarkably cold and damp. I can now readily believe, what I have often heard since my arrival, that I should suffer less from cold in this country than in my own. They regulate the heat of the houses by a thermometer; and their stoves are so admirably contrived that they are large and beautiful ornaments, and consume but very little wood compared with those of our own country. My health still continues to be good, thank God! Give my kindest love to my mother—how often do I now think of her with gratitude and affection! to Jane, Maria, and Harriet, and to poor George, if he be still living. Remember me to Mr. Lane, affectionately, and to all the family. I shall send this letter enclosed to Mr. Lane, with directions that they may read it if you should not be in Mercersburg. Remember me to Uncle John, Alexander and his lady, Mr. Reynolds and his lady, and to Mrs. Martin and Molly Talbot, and believe me to be ever Your faithful and affectionate brother, JAMES BUCHANAN.