I have come to Berlin for my musical education, and the library of Schlesinger, consisting of the most interesting works of the composers of all countries and times, must interest me more than any other collections.

The words, he adds, add nothing to the strength of his argument.

   It is a comfort to think that I, too, shall yet come to
   Schlesinger’s, and that it is always good for a young man to
   see much, as from everything something may be learnt.

According to Karasowski, who reports, no doubt faithfully, what he has heard, Chopin was so well versed in all the branches of science, which he cultivated at the Lyceum, that all who knew him were astonished at his attainments, and prognosticated for him a brilliant future.  I am afraid the only authorities for this statement were the parents, the sisters, and other equally indiscriminately-admiring connections, who often discover genius where it is hidden from the cold, unfeeling world outside this sympathetic circle.  Not that I would blame an amiable weakness without which love, friendship, in short, happiness were well-nigh impossible.  Only a biographer who wishes to represent a man as he really was, and not as he appeared to be to one or more individuals, has to be on his guard against it.  Let us grant at once that Chopin made a good figure at the Lyceum—­indeed, a quick-witted boy who found help and encouragement at home (the secret of almost all successful education) could hardly do otherwise.  But from this to a master of all the arts, to an admirable Crichton, is a great step.  Where there is genius there is inclination.  Now, however well Chopin acquitted himself of his school-tasks—­and even therein you will remember a falling-off was noticeable when outward pressure ceased—­science and kindred subjects were subsequently treated by him with indifference.  The thorough training which he received in general knowledge entirely failed to implant in him the dispositions of a scholar or thinker.  His nature was perhaps a soil unfavourable to such growths, and certainly already preoccupied by a vegetation the luxuriance of which excluded, dwarfed, or crushed everything else.  The truth of these remarks is proved by Chopin’s letters and his friends’ accounts of his tastes and conversation.  In connection with this I may quote a passage from a letter which Chopin wrote immediately before starting on his Berlin trip.  Jedrzejewicz, a gentleman who by-and-by became Chopin’s brother-in-law, and was just then staying in Paris, made there the acquaintance of the Polish musician Sowinski.  The latter hearing thus of his talented countryman in Warsaw, and being co-editor with Fetis of the “Revue musicale” (so at least we read in the letter in question, but it is more likely that Sowinski was simply a contributor to the paper), applied to him for a description of the state of music in Poland, and biographical notes on the most celebrated executants and composers.  Now let us see what Chopin says in reference to this request.