mind and body like hers, it must have been irksome to submit to the caprices of a moody, ailing man.  He composed at Nohant, and she has told us all about it; how he groaned, wrote and re-wrote and tore to pieces draft after draft of his work.  This brings to memory another martyr to style, Gustave Flaubert, who for forty years in a room at Croisset, near Rouen, wrestled with the devils of syntax and epithet.  Chopin was of an impatient, nervous disposition.  All the more remarkable then his capacity for taking infinite pains.  Like Balzac he was never pleased with the final “revise” of his work, he must needs aim at finishing touches.  His letters at this period are interesting for the Chopinist but for the most part they consist of requests made to his pupils, Fontana, Gutmann and others, to jog the publishers, to get him new apartments, to buy him many things.  Wagner was not more importunate or minatory than this Pole, who depended on others for the material comforts and necessities of his existence.  Nor is his abuse of friends and patrons, the Leos and others, indicative of an altogether frank, sincere nature.  He did not hesitate to lump them all as “pigs” and “Jews” if anything happened to jar his nerves.  Money, money, is the leading theme of the Paris and Mallorean letters.  Sand was a spendthrift and Chopin had often to put his hands in his pocket for her.  He charged twenty francs a lesson, but was not a machine and for at least four months of the year he earned nothing.  Hence his anxiety to get all he could for his compositions.  Heaven-born geniuses are sometimes very keen in financial transactions, and indeed why should they not be?

In 1839 Chopin met Moscheles.  They appeared together at St. Cloud, playing for the royal family.  Chopin received a gold cup, Moscheles a travelling case.  “The King gave him this,” said the amiable Frederic, “to get the sooner rid of him.”  There were two public concerts in 1841 and 1842, the first on April 26 at Pleyel’s rooms, the second on February 20 at the same hall.  Niecks devotes an engrossing chapter to the public accounts and the general style of Chopin’s playing; of this more hereafter.  From 1843 to 1847 Chopin taught, and spent the vacations at Nohant, to which charming retreat Liszt, Matthew Arnold, Delacroix, Charles Rollinat and many others came.  His life was apparently happy.  He composed and amused himself with Maurice and Solange, the “terrible children” of this Bohemian household.  There, according to reports, Chopin and Liszt were in friendly rivalry—­are two pianists ever friendly?—­Liszt imitating Chopin’s style, and once in the dark they exchanged places and fooled their listeners.  Liszt denied this.  Another story is of one or the other working the pedal rods—­the pedals being broken.  This too has been laughed to scorn by Liszt.  Nor could he recall having played while Viardot-Garcia sang out on the terrace of the chateau.  Garcia’s memory is also short about this event.  Rollinat, Delacroix and Sand have written abundant souvenirs of Nohant and its distinguished gatherings, so let us not attempt to impugn the details of the Chopin legend, that legend which coughs deprecatingly as it points to its aureoled alabaster brow.  De Lenz should be consulted for an account of this period; he will add the finishing touches of unreality that may be missing.