'You always turn the days which would otherwise be days of mourning for us, into high festivals. On her birthday your wife was allowed to write you the first letter. At Christmas a friend first talked with you, the only one to whom we should not grudge this happiness, but only desire for ourselves to be allowed to succeed him soon.
'On the first day of the festival your wife gave her presents. She will now be writing to tell you about it; how well Marie played your A minor Sonata with Joachim, and Elise the Kinderscenen, and how she delighted me with Jean Paul's complete works. I had not hoped to be able to call them my own for many years. Joachim got the scores of your symphonies, which your wife had already given me.
'I returned here the evening before Christmas; how long the separation from your wife seemed to me! I had so accustomed myself to her inspiring society, I had lived near her so delightfully all the summer and learned to admire and love her so much, that everything seemed flat to me, and I could only long to see her again. What nice things I have brought back with me from Hamburg, however! The score of Gluck's Alcestis (the Italian edition, 1776) from Herr Avé, your first dear letter to me and several from your beloved wife. I must thank you most warmly for a pleasant word in your last letter, for the affectionate "thou"; your kind wife also makes me happy now by using the nice, intimate word; it is the highest proof to me of her favour; I will try always to deserve it more.
'I had a great deal to write to you, dearest friend, but it would probably only be a repetition of what your wife is writing, therefore I conclude with the warmest handshake and greeting.
Your
'Johannes.
'Düsseldorf, 30 December, 1854.
Frau Schumann, having before her the fatigues of a concert-journey in Holland, allowed herself a brief rest during the early part of January, and was cheered by the most encouraging letters from her husband. He wrote on the 6th:
'... I wish also to thank you most particularly, my Clara, for the artist letters and Johannes for the sonata and ballades.[55] I know them now. The sonata—I remember to have heard it once from him—so profoundly grasped; living, deep, and warm throughout, and so closely woven together. And the ballades—the first wonderful, quite new; only I do not understand the doppio movimento either in this or the second, is it not too fast?[56] The close beautiful—original! The second how different, how diversified, how suggestive to the imagination; magical tones are in it. The bass F sharp at the end seems to lead to the third ballade. What shall we call this? Demoniacal—quite splendid, and becoming more and more mysterious after the pp in the trio. And the return and close! Has this ballade made a similar impression on you, my Clara? In the fourth ballade how beautifully the strange melody vacillates at the close between minor and major, and remains mournfully in the major. Now on to overtures and symphonies! Do you not like this, my Clara, better than organ? A symphony or opera, which arouses enthusiasm and makes a great sensation, brings everything else more quickly forward. He must. Now greet Johannes warmly and the children, and you, my dearest heart, remember your, as of old, loving
'Robert.'