Saverdun, 24th March 1805.
[To] Mr. J.F. Chopin
London

IT is impossible, my dear brother, to convey the delight I felt on receipt of your letter. To know you are so close to us and we won’t see you! Why should you make such a long journey and run such a risk, rather than seeing your family? and go away again without that solace and without bestowing it on them either? Allow me, my dear friend, to tell you that your plan is foolish and ill-conceived. One doesn’t undertake a journey like that every day and you risk more than one danger by repeating it. Aren’t you afraid of being captured by the French? Such a misfortune could befall you. Consider carefully I beg you. My friendship gives you this advice which your prospects will incline you to ignore I well know, because if you are making a good living in that country² you will want to add to it and fulfil your ambitions.

God bless your endeavours my dear brother. I am convinced of the good which your [loving?] heart will prompt you to accomplish. I am sure you mean to give our dear parents some peace of mind and a bit of happiness denied them by the miserable Revolution. My husband, for his part, helps them considerably, even though he lost a lot in the Revolution. And my dear parents, in their misfortune, have at least the joy of seeing me happy and of themselves being esteemed by my husband as if he was their own son. He is as attentive towards them as to me and nothing, I assure you, detracts from my satisfaction, since I have that of never being separated from my parents and of seeing them at my husband’s as if they were at home. They enjoy the same freedom and the same comfort as I do.

You will never see a family more perfect and more united than the one to which I am bound. Monsieur De Labouisse is from a very old family. His father was a Knight of St Louis, and has been dead for a very long time. He [– a couple of illegible words, but E. is referring to her husband –] is an only son and has but his mother left. He combines the most handsome looks with great intelligence and learning, is a delightful poet and writes the loveliest lines in the world. But, what is better than all that, is the immense warm-heartedness he possesses, along with a perfect moral sense—so rare a thing in young people these days. We came to Toulouse about three years ago, into a society with which I was already familiar. Our feelings soon declared themselves. I answered his love with my own. He spoke up to Papa, who did not conceal from him that at present I was without fortune and perhaps would remain so for a long time. He confessed the distressing position he found himself in, being in debt. My dear Auguste’s love was impervious to all these money matters. He was delighted to have his fortune to offer me. His mother, who is goodness itself and a charming woman, gave him her consent and we were united some time after. Here we are two and a half years later and as much in love as the first day of our marriage.

And that is why I have been—and still am—in great wretchedness. Family business took my husband to Paris, and he has not been home for six months. I hope he soon will be. I would have followed him if I had not then been caring for a beautiful little son, whom I am still nursing at 7 months. He is surprisingly intelligent and has the sweetest face you could imagine, the image of his father, whose liveliness of appearance is as striking as the regularity of his features. Mama wants you to judge for yourself and said she wished to send you his portrait. I eagerly agreed, so this gift comes from both of us.

Well my dear brother, here is a nice long letter, full of details. I am delighted to provide them, convinced they will bring you pleasure. Do the same for me and let me know the state of your present fortune and future expectations. Mama tells me that at one time you were making 4000 a year. That is wonderful for a young man and with some care and good sense you should be very comfortably off. I hope so with all my heart.

Kissing you goodbye, your most affectionate sister.

Muzard De Labouïsse

P.S. My address is Mme. De Labouïsse née Muzard, Saverdun, Department Ariège.

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