Brook Farm, Septr. 29th, 1841.—A.M.
Ownest wife, I love thee most exceedingly—never so much before; though I am sure I have loved thee through a past eternity. How dost thou do? Dost thou remember that, the day after tomorrow, thou art to meet thy husband? Does thy heart thrill at the thought?
Dearest love, thy husband was elected to two high offices, last night—viz., to be a Trustee of the Brook Farm estate, and Chairman of the Committee of Finance!!!! Now dost thou not blush to have formed so much lower an opinion of my business talents, than is entertained by other discerning people? From the nature of my office, I shall have the chief direction of all the money affairs of the community—the making of bargains—the supervision of receipts and expenditures &c. &c. &c. Thou didst not think of this, when thou didst pronounce me unfit to make a bargain with that petty knave of a publisher. A prophet has 59 no honor among those of his own kindred, nor a financier in the judgment of his wife.
Belovedest, my accession to these august offices does not at all decide the question of my remaining here permanently. I told Mr. Ripley, that I could not spend the winter at the farm, and that it was quite uncertain whether I returned in the spring.
Now, farewell, most dear and sweet wife. Of course, thou canst not expect that a man in eminent public station will have much time to devote to correspondence with a Dove. I will remember thee in the intervals of business, and love thee in all my leisure moments. Will not this satisfy thee?
God bless thee, mine ownest—my treasure—thou gold and diamond of my soul!—my possession forever—my enough and to spare, yet never, never, to be spared! Sweetest, if it should be very stormy on Saturday, expect me not—but the first fair day thereafter.
I put all my love into one kiss, and have twice as much left as before.
Thy Truest Husband.
Miss Sophia A. Peabody,
Care of Dr. N. Peabody,
Boston, Mass.