s, even when more
elaborate, finished, and richer in combinations; a vigor, which is
entirely lost in his latest productions, marked by an over-excited
sensibility, a morbid irritability, and giving painful intimations of
his own state of suffering and exhaustion.

If it were our intention to discuss the development of Piano music in
the language of the Schools, we would dissect his magnificent pages,
which afford so rich a field for scientific observation. We would, in
the first place, analyze his Nocturnes, Ballades, Impromptus, Scherzos,
which are full of refinements of harmony never heard before; bold,
and of startling originality. We would also examine his Polonaises,
Mazourkas, Waltzes and Boleros. But this is not the time or place
for such a study, which would be interesting only to the adepts in
Counterpoint and Thoroughbass.

It is the feeling which overflows in all his works, which has rendered
them known and popular; feeling of a character eminently romantic,
subjective individual, peculiar to their author, yet awakening immediate
sympathy; appealing not alone to the heart of that country indebted
to him for yet one glory more, but to all who can be touched by the
misfortunes of exile, or moved by the tenderness of love. Not content
with success in the field in which he was free to design, with such
perfect grace, the contours chosen by himself, Chopin also wished to
fetter his ideal thoughts with classic chains. His Concertos and Sonatas
are beautiful indeed, but we may discern in them more effort than
inspiration. His creative genius was imperious, fantastic and impulsive.
His beauties were only manifested fully in entire freedom. We believe
he offered violence to the character of his genius whenever he sought to
subject it to rules, to classifications, to regulations not his own,
and which he could not force into harmony with the exactions of his own
mind. He was one of those original beings, whose graces are only fully
displayed when they have cut themselves adrift from all bondage, and
float on at their own wild will, swayed only by the ever undulating
impulses of their own mobile natures.

He was, perhaps, induced to desire this double success through the
example of his friend, Mickiewicz, who, having been the first to gift
his country with romantic poetry, forming a school in Sclavic literature
by the publication of his Dziady, and his romantic Ballads, as early
as 1818, proved afterwards, by the pu