tinues to serve as a mirror
to the moonlight." This is melodramatic. Willeby analyzes it at length
with the scholarly fervor of an English organist. He finds the
accompaniment to be "mostly on a double pedal," and remarks that
"higher art than this one could not have if simplicity of means be a
factor of high art." The wide-meshed figure of the left hand supports a
morbid, persistent melody that grates on the nerves. From the piu mosso
the agitation increases, and here let me call to your notice the
Beethoven-ish quality of these bars, which continue until the change of
signature. There is a surprising climax followed by sunshine and favor
in the D flat part, then after mounting dissonances a bold succession
of octaves returns to the feverish plaint of the opening. Kullak speaks
of a resemblance to Meyerbeer's song, Le Moine. The composition reaches
exalted states. Its psychological tension is so great at times as to
border on a pathological condition. There is unhealthy power in this
nocturne, which is seldom interpreted with sinister subtlety. Henry T.
Finck rightfully thinks it "embodies a greater variety of emotion and
more genuine dramatic spirit on four pages than many operas on four
hundred."

The companion picture in D flat, op. 27, No. 2, has, as Karasowski
writes, "a profusion of delicate fioriture." It really contains but one
subject, and is a song of the sweet summer of two souls, for there is
obvious meaning in the duality of voices. Often heard in the concert
room, this nocturne gives us a surfeit of sixths and thirds of
elaborate ornamentation and monotone of mood. Yet it is a lovely,
imploring melody, and harmonically most interesting. A curious marking,
and usually overlooked by pianists, is the crescendo and con forza of
the cadenza. This is obviously erroneous. The theme, which occurs three
times, should first be piano, then pianissimo, and lastly forte. This
opus is dedicated to the Comtesse d'Appony.

The best part of the next nocturne,--B major, op. 32, No. I, dedicated
to Madame de Billing--is the coda. It is in the minor and is like the
drum-beat of tragedy. The entire ending, a stormy recitative, is in
stern contrast to the dreamy beginning. Kullak in the first bar of the
last line uses a G; Fontana, F sharp, and Klindworth the same as
Kullak. The nocturne that follows in A flat is a reversion to the Field
type, the opening recalling that master's B flat Nocturne. The F minor
section of Chopin