ign
graciously to pardon all that is unworthy of you, it is all my humble
riches which I place at your feet." This formula [Footnote: All
the Polish formulas of courtesy retain the strong impress of the
hyperbolical expressions of the Eastern languages. The titles of "very
powerful and very enlightened seigniors" are still obligatory.
The Poles, in conversation, constantly name each other Benefactor
(DOBRODZIJ). The common salutation between men, and of men to women,
is PADAM DO NOG: "I fall at your feet." The greeting of the people
possesses a character of ancient solemnity and simplicity: SLAWA BOHU:
"Glory to God."] is still pronounced with a national grace and dignity
by all masters of families who preserve the picturesque customs which
distinguished the ancient manners of Poland.

Having thus described something of the habits of hospitality common in
his country, the ease which presided over our reunions with Chopin will
be readily understood. The flow of thought, the entire freedom from
restraint, were of a character so pure that no insipidity or bitterness
ever ensued, no ill humor was ever provoked. Though he avoided society,
yet when his saloon was invaded, the kindness of his attention was
delightful; without appearing to occupy himself with any one, he
succeeded in finding for all that which was most agreeable; neglecting
none, he extended to all the most graceful courtesy.

It was not without a struggle, without a repugnance slightly
misanthropic, that Chopin could be induced to open his doors and piano,
even to those whose friendship, as respectful as faithful, gave them a
claim to urge such a request with eagerness. Without doubt more than one
of us can still remember our first improvised evening with him, in spite
of his refusal, when he lived at Chaussee d'Antin.

His apartment, invaded by surprise, was only lighted by some wax
candles, grouped round one of Pleyel's pianos, which he particularly
liked for their slightly veiled, yet silvery sonorousness, and easy
touch, permitting him to elicit tones which one might think proceeded
from one of those harmonicas of which romantic Germany has preserved
the monopoly, and which were so ingeniously constructed by its ancient
masters, by the union of crystal and water.

As the corners of the room were left in obscurity, all idea of limit was
lost, so that there seemed no boundary save the darkness of space. Some
tall piece of furniture, with its white cover,