From placid Field to volcanic Berlioz is an enormous distance, which, however, we will clear at one leap, and do it too without hesitation or difficulty.  For is not leaping the mind’s natural mode of locomotion, and walking an artificially-acquired and rare accomplishment?  Proceeding step by step we move only with more or less awkwardness, but aided by ever so slight an association of ideas we bound with the greatest ease from any point to any other point of infinitude.  Berlioz returned to Paris in the latter part of 1832, and on the ninth of December of that year gave a concert at which he produced among other works his “Episode de la vie d’un artiste” (Part I.—­“Symphonic fantastique,” for the second time; Part ii—­“Lelio, ou le retour a la vie,” for the first time), the subject of which is the history of his love for Miss Smithson.  Chopin, no doubt, made Berlioz’s acquaintance through Liszt, whose friendship with the great French symphonic composer dated from before the latter’s departure for Italy.  The characters of Chopin and Berlioz differed too much for a deep sympathy to exist between them; their connection was indeed hardly more than a pleasant social companionship.  Liszt tells us that the constant intercourse with Berlioz, Hiller, and other celebrities who were in the habit of saying smart things, developed Chopin’s natural talent for incisive remarks, ironical answers, and ambiguous speeches.  Berlioz.  I think, had more affection for Chopin than the latter for Berlioz.

But it is much more the artistic than the social attitude taken up by Chopin towards Berlioz and romanticism which interests us.  Has Liszt correctly represented it?  Let us see.  It may be accepted as in the main true that the nocturnes of Field, [Footnote:  In connection with this, however, Mikuli’s remark has to be remembered.] the sonatas of Dussek, and the “noisy virtuosities and decorative expressivities” of Kalkbrenner were either insufficient for or antipathetic to Chopin; and it is plainly evident that he was one of those who most perseveringly endeavoured to free themselves from the servile formulas of the conventional style and repudiated the charlatanisms that only replace old abuses by new ones.  On the other hand, it cannot be said that he joined unreservedly those who, seeing the fire of talent devour imperceptibly the old worm-eaten scaffolding, attached themselves to the school of which Berlioz was the most gifted, valiant, and daring representative, nor that, as long as the campaign of romanticism lasted, he remained invariable in his predilections and repugnances.  The promptings of his genius taught Chopin that the practice of any one author or set of authors, whatever their excellence might be, ought not to be an obligatory rule for their successors.  But while his individual requirements led him to disregard use and wont, his individual taste set up a very exclusive standard of his own.  He adopted the maxims of the romanticists, but disapproved