'My dear Miss Mitford, I cannot employ the formal address of a stranger towards one who has inspired the vivid feeling of intimate acquaintance, a deep and affectionate interest in her occupations and happiness. You cannot be ignorant that your books are re-printed and widely circulated on this side of the Atlantic? your name has penetrated beyond our maritime cities, and is familiar and loved through many a village circle and to the borders of the lonely depths of unpierced woods ? that we eagerly gather the intimations of your character and history that we fancy are dispersed through your productions ? that we venerate "Mrs. Mosse", are lovers of "Sweet Cousin Mary" and have wept and almost worn mourning for dear bright little "Lizzie", that, in short, such is your power over the imagination that your pictures have wrought on our affections like realities.'