IX. CHOPIN.

CHOPIN, alone of all the musicians, has been immortalized through his pianoforte music. If all the works that have ever been written for the piano were to be swept away, his compositions would of themselves inspire one through all the drudgery that is necessary to master the instrument.

Nicholas Chopin, the father of the composer, was born and educated in France, but when quite a young man he became deeply interested in the history of Poland, and determined to visit the country. Arriving there, he mastered the language, and sympathized so deeply in the political struggles of the unhappy people, that he twice fought in the Polish ranks, once during the Revolution headed by Kosciusko, and once when Poland was besieged by Prussia. He made three different attempts to return to France, but was prevented each time by illness, and finally decided to spend the rest of his life in Poland. While acting as tutor to the son of a Polish countess, he met at her house a delicate, lovable woman named Fräulein Justina Krzyzanowska, whom he married; and soon after accepted a position as professor of French at one of the Warsaw academies. Nicholas Chopin was a refined, lovable man of large sympathies, and his home was always the resort of the finest people in that city. There it was Chopin's good fortune to grow up in a refined and cultivated atmosphere, under the care of a tender, judicious father and a loving, sensitive mother.

Frederic Chopin was born on March 1, 1809, at a little village near Warsaw. The child's genius was apparent in his earliest years; when scarcely more than a baby, he was so sensitive that he wept on hearing music; and he began to compose before he was old enough to write out the notes. He was placed under the tuition of Albert Zwyny, who was delighted with his little pupil's progress, and in his ninth year he gave his first concert. His playing on this occasion created a great sensation; the most aristocratic people loved to pet and humor him, and had it not been for his own extremely modest disposition and the care taken by his sensible parents, he would have been completely spoiled. He was now handed over to Elsner to be instructed in counterpoint. This accomplished musician and wise man soon saw the genius of his little pupil, and what was worth much more to the

child, he appreciated how original he was in his bent, and instead of obliging him to imitate him, and become a second Elsner, he allowed him to give free play to his fancy, and so helped to make of him a Chopin. Frederic was full of high spirits, and often amused himself by playing little practical jokes, sometimes being joined by his sister Emily. This sister gave as rare promise of being great in literature as Frederic in music, but, unfortunately, she died when only a young girl.

Chopin had a talent for seizing the ludicrous and placing it on paper; and his power of caricaturing on the piano was much like Schumann's. It is said that once, when his father's pupils were becoming very boisterous, Chopin entered the room and seated himself at the piano. He imitated a band of robbers breaking into a house, their escape, and retreat to the woods; as the music grew fainter the pupils became drowsier and drowsier until they were all fast asleep.

Elsner, his instructor, now urged that his pupil should be sent to Berlin, where he might hear fine pianoforte performers; and as Professor Jarochi, a friend of his father's, was about to attend a philosophical congress there, the parents intrusted Frederic to his care. There he heard Mendelssohn and also listened to some of Handel's music, which made a profound impression upon him.

He wrote home mirthful letters of his experiences there. Though music was all in all to him, he had eyes for everything there was to see, and was so amused at the appearance of some of the German philosophers, that he could not resist caricaturing them on paper. With his usual modesty, he had come to learn, and he was astounded when, at Vienna, they actually wished him to play; after great urging, he reluctantly gave two concerts, at both of which he produced a remarkable sensation. On his journey home, he stopped at Vienna, Prague, Dresden, and other cities, and was ready, on arriving at Warsaw, to settle down to hard, steady work, while his compositions and playing were already gaining him great fame.

In 1830 Chopin again went to music-loving Vienna, where he met Schumann, who was one of the first to hail him as a master; and not only did Schumann in his journal do all in his power to bring Chopin to the attention of the public, but Clara Wieck, afterward Madame Schumann, was one of the first to play his compositions.

After a long stay in Vienna, he decided to visit Paris, and thence proceed to London; and although he was destined to make Paris his home, he often said he was there on his way to London. When he first settled in Paris, public taste was already formed; it had its favorite players, and was slow to applaud any new candidate, especially one so original as Chopin. At first Chopin was a complete failure; his Polish friends attended his concerts, but the Parisians held aloof. Wounded and discouraged, Chopin thought of coming to America; but his parents were so opposed to the plan that he lingered in Paris, undecided as to what was best; at this time, when he felt almost hopeless, success came to him.

He disliked greatly to be obliged to play at concerts, as many fine effects in his playing were lost in a large hall; but, in the drawing-room, surrounded by sympathetic listeners, his very soul seemed to creep through his fingers and free itself in his music. Such an opportunity came to him at Baron Rothschild's, at an evening entertainment, and as he played, his listeners were enchanted, and his future was assured. The aristocracy showered attentions upon him, and it became fashionable to possess him as a friend, or as a teacher,for he earned his living by taking pupils. He shrank from playing at concerts, and, unlike most of the masters, loved to teach. He would only receive pupils who had ability and were thoroughly in earnest; but, once their teacher, he had infinite patience with all their difficulties. He insisted on every finger being equally trained, and paid more attention to cultivating a fine, delicate touch than to force or velocity.

In 1832 Chopin attended the Lower Rhine Festival under the leadership of Mendelssohn, who was delighted with his playing, and greeted him as one of the greatest of all pianists.

Chopin's life in Paris was now a pleasant and peaceful one. Though universally popular and sought after by all, his chosen friends were Poles; he preferred them as pupils above all others; he constantly assisted them with money, and often shared his lodging with them. He held soirées every evening at which, among others, one could meet Liszt, the composer and player, Heine, the poet, and Ary Scheffer, the painter. Liszt admired Chopin, and the two were long intimate friends; sometimes the spirit of mischief would seize Chopin, and seating himself at the piano, he would

imitate every detail of Liszt's playing, very much to the brilliant artist's amusement.

Chopin's health had always been delicate, and finally an attack of bronchitis forced him to leave Paris for the Island of Majorca; here he grew so much better that in 1839 he returned home. He failed to take proper care of himself, and again grew worse. In spite of this, he visited London, and although he rarely played in public, he secured unbounded appreciation wherever he was heard. After his return to Paris, his health grew more and more feeble, until at last his friends felt he had not long to live. A few days before he died, a Polish friend sang for him, making all in the room weep. "How beautiful!" he said, and fell asleep. He died October 17, 1849. They covered him with flowers, especially the violet, which he best loved, and Mozart's Requiem was sung at his funeral.

Chopin had beautiful brown eyes and a rare musical voice. His fine education, his music, and his fascinating manner made him a general favorite, yet he always remained as modest as a child, rarely playing at concerts, and never courting applause of any kind. Reared in an atmosphere of affection and refinement, he loved flowers and music, and seemed born to the beautiful, passing through none of the bitter struggles that Mozart or Beethoven endured.

And yet in order that he should feel for others, it was necessary that he should suffer. Chopin was a Pole, in birth, education, and sympathy; he never forgot that he was one; the sorrows of his unhappy country were ever before him, and his music was born of them. He was the poet of the piano, and as all poets sing from the heart, so he looked into his heart and played. From his childhood Chopin must have heard the Polish peasants singing their national songs, and dance music, and around these he wove his wonderful polonaises, mazurkas, ballads, and all that he wrote. Who can tell what he might have created had he written for an orchestra. He loved the piano. Schumann says of Chopin that he imprisoned the spirit of Beethoven in the piano, and that his music would inspire a poet to write. What must it have been to hear him play his own music, with his marvelous execution, and his touch, tender and delicate. Liszt has said that no one can play Chopin after Chopin, for no one can feel as he felt; but as long as the pianoforte lasts, we shall long to hear his music; he has immortalized the piano.

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