as to matters of the heart and soul, they are not to be written about.

Brook Farm October 21st, 1841 Noon

Ownest beloved, I know thou dost not care in the least about receiving a word from thy husband thou lovest me not in fact thou hast quite forgotten that such a person exists. I do love thee so much, that I really think that all the love is on my side; there is no room for any more in the whole universe.

Sweetest, I have nothing at all to say to thee nothing, I mean, that regards this external world; and as to matters of the heart and soul, they are not to be written about. What atrocious weather! In all this month, we have not had a single truly October day; it has been a real November month, and of the most disagreeable kind. I came to this place in one snowstorm, and shall probably leave it in another; so that my reminiscences of Brook Farm are like to be the coldest and dreariest imaginable. But next month, thou, belovedest, will be my sunshine and my summer. No matter what weather it may be then.

Dearest, good bye. Dost thou love me after all? Art thou magnificently well? God bless thee. Thou didst make me infinitely happiest, at our last meeting. Was it a pleasant season like wise to thee?

Thine ownest,

THEODORE DE L AUBEPINE.

Miss Sophia A. Peabody,
Care of Dr. N. Peabody,
Boston, Mass.