es Nos. 9 and 12 of "Douze
Etudes," Op. 10; Nos. 11 and 12 of "Douze Etudes," Op. 25; No. 24 of
"Vingt-quatre Preludes," Op. 28; "Premier Scherzo," Op. 20; "Polonaise"
in A flat major, Op. 53; and the close of the "Nocturne" in A flat
major, Op. 32. All these compositions, we are told, exhibit Liszt's
style and mode of feeling. Now, the works composed by Chopin before he
came to Paris and got acquainted with Liszt comprise not only a sonata,
a trio, two concertos, variations, polonaises, waltzes, mazurkas, one
or more nocturnes, &c., but also--and this is for the question under
consideration of great importance--most of, if not all, the studies of
Op. 10, [FOOTNOTE: Sowinski says that Chopin brought with him to Paris
the MS. of the first book of his studies.] and some of Op. 25; and these
works prove decisively the inconclusiveness of the lady's argument. The
twelfth study of Op. 10 (composed in September, 1831) invalidates all
she says about fire, passion, and rushing torrents. In fact, no cogent
reason can be given why the works mentioned by her should not be the
outcome of unaided development.[FOONOTE: That is to say, development
not aided in the way indicated by Miss Ramann. Development can never
be absolutely unaided; it always presupposes conditions--external or
internal, physical or psychical, moral or intellectual--which induce
and promote it. What is here said may be compared with the remarks about
style and individuality on p. 214.] The first Scherzo alone might make
us pause and ask whether the new features that present themselves in
it ought not to be fathered on Liszt. But seeing that Chopin evolved so
much, why should he not also have evolved this? Moreover, we must keep
in mind that Liszt had, up to 1831, composed almost nothing of what in
after years was considered either by him or others of much moment,
and that his pianoforte style had first to pass through the state of
fermentation into which Paganini's, playing had precipitated it (in the
spring of 1831) before it was formed; on the other hand, Chopin arrived
in Paris with his portfolios full of masterpieces, and in possession of
a style of his own, as a player of his instrument as well as a writer
for it. That both learned from each other cannot be doubted; but the
exact gain of each is less easily determinable. Nevertheless, I think
I may venture to assert that whatever be the extent of Chopin's
indebtedness to Liszt, the latter's indebtedness to the