the Ms. of the first book of his studies.] and
some of Op. 25; and these works prove decisively the
inconclusiveness of the lady’s argument.
The twelfth study of Op. 10 (composed in September,
1831) invalidates all she says about fire, passion,
and rushing torrents. In fact, no cogent reason
can be given why the works mentioned by her should
not be the outcome of unaided development.[FOONOTE:
That is to say, development not aided in the way indicated
by Miss Ramann. Development can never be absolutely
unaided; it always presupposes conditions—external
or internal, physical or psychical, moral or intellectual—which
induce and promote it. What is here said may
be compared with the remarks about style and individuality
on p. 214.] The first Scherzo alone might make us
pause and ask whether the new features that present
themselves in it ought not to be fathered on Liszt.
But seeing that Chopin evolved so much, why should
he not also have evolved this? Moreover, we must
keep in mind that Liszt had, up to 1831, composed
almost nothing of what in after years was considered
either by him or others of much moment, and that his
pianoforte style had first to pass through the state
of fermentation into which Paganini’s, playing
had precipitated it (in the spring of 1831) before
it was formed; on the other hand, Chopin arrived in
Paris with his portfolios full of masterpieces, and
in possession of a style of his own, as a player of
his instrument as well as a writer for it. That
both learned from each other cannot be doubted; but
the exact gain of each is less easily determinable.
Nevertheless, I think I may venture to assert that
whatever be the extent of Chopin’s indebtedness
to Liszt, the latter’s indebtedness to the former
is greater. The tracing of an influence in the
works of a man of genius, who, of course, neither
slavishly imitates nor flagrantly appropriates, is
one of the most difficult tasks. If Miss Ramann
had first noted the works produced by the two composers
in question before their acquaintance began, and had
carefully examined Chopin’s early productions
with a view to ascertain his capability of growth,
she would have come to another conclusion, or, at least,
have spoken less confidently. [Footnote:
Schumann, who in 1839 attempted to give a history
of Liszt’s development (in the “Neue Zeitschrift
fur Musik"), remarked that when Liszt, on the one
hand, was brooding over the most gloomy fancies, and
indifferent, nay, even blase, and, on the other hand,
laughing and madly daring, indulged in the most extravagant
virtuoso tricks, “the sight of Chopin, it seems,
first brought him again to his senses.”]