The Erard has just been unpacked and set up, dear Minna, in spite of wind and weather. What a delight it is to play on such an instrument! Only the player himself can really appreciate it; the least pressure, scarcely touching, at once produces a gentle bell-like tone which, when one presses somewhat harder, becomes a full, clear, yet always soft, mellow chime. I can play so softly on it that nobody in the next room would hear me when I am composing. So one joy has stolen, friendly, into my life! Now you must give me the great joy of soon knowing that you are on the way to health. That will be the only joy that still remains.
I have been greatly troubled to see, as I did at our leave-taking, that you are always relapsing into your dark, self-tormenting fancies. For Heaven's sake, don't fasten on single words and phrases of mine, which indeed you always misunderstand. Do consider with a little justice and due reflection that I cannot always be keeping a single eye on the possible effect on you of everything I say. If I show you how serious a matter it was with me, do still base your final judgment on my actions, that is to say, on my ultimate decisions when the conflict and the doubts are over. You really need a thoroughly sensible, experienced and good-hearted friend of your own sex just now to advise you and explain matters, as it is impossible for me to do without at once arousing fresh misunderstandings, which truly I never intended to do. Think of nothing beyond your cure. Believe firmly and steadfastly that I am concealing nothing from you which could cause you anxiety on my account. Be sure of me, and be confident that there is nothing in this world and this life I hope or wish for more than rest and peace, to be able to fulfil the task which is my one support. So let us bear our appointed lot together, be lenient to each other's weaknesses, and loyally help each other to fulfil life's heavy task with cheerfulness and equanimity.
Richard Wagner
Source: Letters of Richard Wagner, Volume 1, ed. Altmann/Hull (London: Dent, 1927), No. 353