as I ever had the misfortune to turn into English.  One cannot help thinking, in reading what Chopin says with regard to these matters, that he showed far too much concern about the utterances of the press, and far too much sensitiveness under the infliction of even the slightest strictures.  That, however, the young composer was soon engaged on new works may be gathered from the passage (Oct. 3, 1829), quoted at the commencement of this chapter, in which he speaks of the Adagio of a concerto, and a waltz, written whilst his thoughts were with his ideal.  These compositions were the second movement of the F minor Concerto and the Waltz, Op. 70, No. 3.  But more of this when we come to discuss the works which Chopin produced in the years 1829 and 1830.

One of the most important of the items which made up our friend’s musical life at this time was the weekly musical meetings at the house of Kessler, the pianist-composer characterised in Chapter X. There all the best artists of Warsaw assembled, and the executants had to play prima vista whatever was placed before them.  Of works performed at two of these Friday evening meetings, we find mentioned Spohr’s Octet, described by Chopin as “a wonderful work”; Ries’s Concerto in C sharp minor (played with quartet accompaniment), Hummel’s Trio in E major, Prince Louis Ferdinand of Prussia’s Quartet, and Beethoven’s last Trio, which, Chopin says, he could not but admire for its magnificence and grandeur.  To Brzezina’s music-shop he paid a visit every day, without finding there, however, anything new, except a Concerto by Pixis, which made no great impression upon him.  That Chopin was little satisfied with his situation may be gathered from the following remarks of his:—­

You cannot imagine how sad Warsaw is to me; if I did not feel happy in my home circle I should not like to live here.  Oh, how bitter it is to have no one with whom one can share joy and sorrow; oh, how dreadful to feel one’s heart oppressed and to be unable to express one’s complaints to any human soul!  You know full well what I mean.  How often do I tell my piano all that I should like to impart to you!

Of course the reader, who is in the secret, knows as well as Titus knew, to whom the letter was addressed, that Chopin alludes to his love.  Let us mark the words in the concluding sentence about the conversations with his piano.  Chopin was continually occupied with plans for going abroad.  In October, 1829, he writes that, wherever fate may lead him, he is determined not to spend the winter in Warsaw.  Nevertheless, more than a year passed away before he said farewell to his native city.  He himself wished to go to Vienna, his father seems to have been in favour of Berlin.  Prince Radziwill and his wife had kindly invited him to come to the Prussian capital, and offered him apartments in their palais.  But Chopin was unable to see what advantages he could derive from a stay in Berlin.  Moreover, unlike his father, he believed that this invitation was no more than “de belles paroles.”  By the way, these remarks of Chopin’s furnish a strong proof that the Prince was not his patron and benefactor, as Liszt and others have maintained.  While speaking of his fixed intention to go somewhere, and of the Prince’s invitation, Chopin suddenly exclaims with truly Chopinesque indecision and capriciousness:—­