Bulwer’s translation of Schiller’s “Ideal.”

Beschoeftigung, die nie ermattet
Die langsam schafft, doch nie zerstoert,
Die zu dem Bau der Ewigkeiten
Zwar Sandkorn nur, fuer Sandkorn reicht,
Doch von der grossen Schuld der Zeiten
Minute, Tage, Jahre streicht.

Die Ideale—­Shiller.

The strength of Chopin was not sufficient for the execution of his intention.  The occupation was too abstract, too fatiguing.  He contemplated the form of his project, he spoke of it at different times, but its execution had become impossible.  He wrote but a few pages of it, which were destroyed with the rest.

At last the disease augmented so visibly, that the fears of his friends assumed the hue of despair.  He scarcely ever left his bed, and spoke but rarely.  His sister, upon receiving this intelligence, came from Warsaw to take her place at his pillow, which she left no more.  He witnessed the anguish, the presentiments, the redoubled sadness around him, without showing what impression they made upon him.  He thought of death with Christian calm and resignation, yet he did not cease to prepare for the morrow.  The fancy he had for changing his residence was once more manifested, he took another lodging, disposed the furnishing of it anew, and occupied himself in its most minute details.  As he had taken no measures to recall the orders he had given for its arrangement, they were transporting his furniture to the apartments he was destined never to inhabit, upon the very day of his death!

Did he fear that death would not fulfil his plighted promise!  Did he dread, that after having touched him with his icy hand, he would still suffer him to linger upon earth?  Did he feel that life would be almost unendurable with its fondest ties broken, its closest links dissevered?  There is a double influence often felt by gifted temperaments when upon the eve of some event which is to decide their fate.  The eager heart, urged on by a desire to unravel the mystic secrets of the unknown Future, contradicts the colder, the more timid intellect, which fears to plunge into the uncertain abyss of the coming fate!  This want of harmony between the simultaneous previsions of the mind and heart, often causes the firmest spirits to make assertions which their actions seem to contradict; yet actions and assertions both flow from the differing sources of an equal conviction.  Did Chopin suffer from this inevitable dissimilarity between the prophetic whispers of the heart, and the thronging doubts of the questioning mind?