No words of our own could show so well the hearty affection and implicit trust which he awakened and returned: "Brook Farm, September 18, 1843 .-- MY DEAR FRIEND: I was rejoiced to hear from you, though you wrote too short a letter.

Your beautiful fruit, enough to convert the direst sceptic to Grahamism, together with the pearled wheat, arrived safely, although a few days too late to be in perfectly good order.

We distributed them to all and singular, men, women, and children, who discussed them with great interest, I assure you; many, no doubt, with silent wishes that no good or beautiful thing might ever be wanting to you.

I am glad to learn that you are so happy in New York, that you find so much in your own mind to compensate for the evils of a city environment, and that your aspirations are not quenched by the sight of the huge disorders that daily surround you.

I hardly dare to think that my own faith or hope would be strong enough to reconcile me to a return to common society.