Marino: Sunday, July 28, 1822. MY DEARLY BELOVED WIFE,--I have just read your letter again, preparatory to my writing to you, that my thoughts might be still more elevated and quickened than before. I could almost rejoice at my absence from you, if it were only that it has produced such an earnest and warm mark of affection from you as that letter. Tears of joy and delight fell from my eyes on its perusal. I think it was last Sunday evening, about this time, that I wrote to you from London; and I again resort to this affectionate conversation with you, to tell you what has happened since the letter which I got franked from this place to you on Thursday I believe. * * * * * We have been working very hard here at the copper works, and with some success. Our days have gone on just as before. A walk before breakfast; then breakfast; then to the works till four or five o’clock, and then home to dress, and dinner. After dinner, tea and conversation. I have felt doubly at a loss to-day, being absent from both the meeting and you. When away from London before, I have had you with me, and we could read and talk and walk; to-day I have had no one to fill your place, so I will tell you how I have done. There are so many here, and their dinner so late and long, that I made up my mind to avoid it, though, if possible, without appearing singular. So, having remained in my room till breakfast time, we all breakfasted together, and soon after Mr. Phillips and myself took a walk out to the Mumbles Point, at the extremity of this side of the bay. There we sat down to admire the beautiful scenery around us, and, after we had viewed it long enough, returned slowly home. We stopped at a little village in our way, called Oystermouth, and dined at a small, neat, homely house about one o’clock. We then came back to Marino, and after a little while again went out--Mr. Phillips to a relation in the town, and myself for a walk on the sands and the edge of the bay. I took tea in a little cottage, and, returning home about seven o’clock, found them engaged at dinner, so came up to my own room, and shall not see them again to-night. I went down for a light just now, and heard them playing some sacred music in the drawing-room; they have all been to church to-day, and are what are called regular people.