exceedingly strong—­namely, in subtlety and intensity of feeling.  Chopin’s opinion of Mdlle.  Sontag coincides on the whole with those of other contemporaries; nevertheless, his account contributes some details which add a page to her biography, and a few touches to her portraiture.  It is to be regretted that the arrival of Titus Woyciechowski in Warsaw put for a time an end to Chopin’s correspondence with him, otherwise we should, no doubt, have got some more information about Mdlle.  Sontag and other artists.

While so many stars were shining, Chopin’s light seems to have been under an eclipse.  Not only did he not give a concert, but he was even passed over on the occasion of a soiree musicale at court to which all the most distinguished artists then assembled at Warsaw were invited—­Mdlle.  Sontag, Mdlle. de Belleville, Worlitzer, Kurpinski, &c.  “Many were astonished,” writes Chopin,” that I was not invited to play, but I was not astonished.”  When the sittings of the Diet and the entertainments that accompanied them came to a close Chopin paid a visit to his friend Titus at Poturzyn, and on his return thence proceeded with his parents to Zelazowa Wola to stay for some time at the Count of Skarbek’s.  After leaving Poturzyn the picture of his friend’s quiet rural life continually rose up in Chopin’s mind.  A passage in one of his letters which refers to his sojourn there seems to me characteristic of the writer, suggestive of moods consonant with his nocturnes and many cantilene in his other works:—­

I must confess that I look back to it with great pleasure; I feel always a certain longing for your beautiful country- seat.  The weeping-willow is always present to my mind; that arbaleta! oh, I remember it so fondly!  Well, you have teased me so much about it that I am punished thereby for all my sins.

And has he forgotten his ideal?  Oh, no!  On the contrary, his passion grows stronger every day.  This is proved by his frequent allusions to her whom he never names, and by those words of restless yearning and heart-rending despair that cannot be read without exciting a pitiful sympathy.  As before long we shall get better acquainted with the lady and hear more of her—­she being on the point of leaving the comparative privacy of the Conservatorium for the boards that represent the world—­it may be as well to study the symptoms of our friend’s interesting malady.

The first mention of the ideal we find in the letter dated October 3, 1829, wherein he says that he has been dreaming of her every night for the past six months, and nevertheless has not yet spoken to her.  In these circumstances he stood in need of one to whom he might confide his joys and sorrows, and as no friend of flesh and blood was at hand, he often addressed himself to the piano.  And now let us proceed with our investigation.

   March 27, 1830.—­At no time have I missed you so much as now. 
   I have nobody to whom I can open my heart.