Chicago, March 31, 1894.  

My dear Friend:   

In an artist's life every new role is a stage in that  long journey toward the summits of art, toward the  beautiful, the infinite. ''Werther," the other night,  was for me one of those unanimous successes wherein  the heart — the science of causing it to beat in one's audience and before one's audience — stood in true proportion  to every artifice. The true path — that of emotion — that  goal for which I am striving all my life — was reached  in the presence of a public which did not understand the words, but which divined by instinct that my conception of the character arose from that simplicity, that  pure, unexaggerated truthfulness which age and maturity alone can confer upon the thinking artist. . . .  I am sending you the cuttings from the newspapers here; show them to Harris, who, I hope, will mount the opera for me. Mancinelli conducted the orchestra admirably. Eames and Arnoldson are two adorable little  sisters. In a word, I believe that to the cultivated  London public, accustomed as it is to novelties, it will  come as a delightful surprise. I sing regularly three  times every week, and my voice is excellent. At this  present moment I am reaching my forty-first performance. Accept, my dear friend, from Edouard and myself, a thousand affectionate remembrances, together  with a hearty shake of the hand.   

Your devoted,   Jean de Reszke.