e the unavoidable
piano concerto. It was not consistent with his nature to express
himself in broad terms. His lungs were too weak for the pace in seven
league boots, so often required in a score. The trio and 'cello sonata
were also tasks for whose accomplishment Nature did not design him. He
must touch the keys by himself without being called upon to heed the
players sitting next him. He is at his best when without formal
restraint, he can create out of his inmost soul."

"He must touch the keys by himself!" There you have summed up in a
phrase the reason Chopin never succeeded in impressing his
individuality upon the sonata form and his playing upon the masses. His
was the lonely soul. George Sand knew this when she wrote, "He made an
instrument speak the language of the infinite. Often in ten lines that
a child might play he has introduced poems of unequalled elevation,
dramas unrivalled in force and energy. He did not need the great
material methods to find expression for his genius. Neither saxophone
nor ophicleide was necessary for him to fill the soul with awe. Without
church organ or human voice he inspired faith and enthusiasm."

It might be remarked here that Beethoven, too, aroused a wondering and
worshipping world without the aid of saxophone or ophicleide. But it is
needless cruelty to pick at Madame Sand's criticisms. She had no
technical education, and so little appreciation of Chopin's peculiar
genius for the piano that she could write, "The day will come when his
music will be arranged for orchestra without change of the piano
score;" which is disaster-breeding nonsense. We have sounded Chopin's
weakness when writing for any instrument but his own, when writing in
any form but his own.

The E minor Concerto is dedicated to Frederick Kalkbrenner, the F minor
to the Comtesse Deiphine Potocka. The latter dedication demonstrates
that he could forget his only "ideal" in the presence of the charming
Potocka! Ah! these vibratile and versatile Poles!

Robert Schumann, it is related, shook his head wearily when his early
work was mentioned. "Dreary stuff," said the composer, whose critical
sense did not fail him even in so personal a question. What Chopin
thought of his youthful music may be discovered in his scanty
correspondence. To suppose that the young Chopin sprang into the arena
a fully equipped warrior is one of those nonsensical notions which
gains currency among persons unfamiliar with the law of