time, which originated in
Cracovia. It is, to quote Niecks, a modified polonaise, danced by the
peasants with lusty abandon. Its accentual life is usually manifested
on an unaccented part of the bar, especially at the end of a section or
phrase. Chopin's very Slavic version is spirited, but the virtuoso
predominates. There is lushness in ornamentation, and a bold, merry
spirit informs every page. The orchestral accompaniment is thin.
Dedicated to the Princesse Czartoryska, it was published June, 1834.
The Rondo, op. 16, with an Introduction, is in great favor at the
conservatories, and is neat rather than poetical, although the
introduction has dramatic touches. It is to this brilliant piece, with
its Weber-ish affinities, that Richard Burmeister has supplied an
orchestral accompaniment.

The remaining Rondo, posthumously published as op. 73, and composed in
1828, was originally intended, so Chopin writes in 1828, for one piano.
It is full of fire, but the ornamentation runs mad, and no traces of
the poetical Chopin are present. He is preoccupied with the brilliant
surfaces of the life about him. His youthful expansiveness finds a fair
field in these variations, rondos and fantasias.

Schumann's enthusiasm over the variations on "La ci darem la mano"
seems to us a little overdone. Chopin had not much gift for variation
in the sense that we now understand variation. Beethoven, Schumann and
Brahms--one must include Mendelssohn's Serious Variations--are masters
of a form that is by no means structurally simple or a reversion to
mere spielerei, as Finck fancies. Chopin plays with his themes
prettily, but it is all surface display, all heat lightning. He never
smites, as does Brahms with his Thor hammer, the subject full in the
middle, cleaving it to its core. Chopin is slightly effeminate in his
variations, and they are true specimens of spielerei, despite the
cleverness of design in the arabesques, their brilliancy and euphony.
Op. 2 has its dazzling moments, but its musical worth is inferior. It
is written to split the ears of the groundlings, or rather to astonish
and confuse them, for the Chopin dynamics in the early music are never
very rude. The indisputable superiority to Herz and the rest of the
shallow-pated variationists caused Schumann's passionate admiration. It
has, however, given us an interesting page of music criticism.
Rellstab, grumpy old fellow, was near right when he wrote of these
variations that "the