all the objectivity of the study or toccata, and often wears his heart in full view.  Chopin’s Preludes—­the only preludes to be compared to Bach’s—­are largely personal, subjective, and intimate.  This first one is not Bach-ian, yet it could have been written by no one but a devout Bach student.  The pulsating, passionate, agitated, feverish, hasty qualities of the piece are modern; so is the changeful modulation.  It is a beautiful composition, rising to no dramatic heights, but questioning and full of life.  Klindworth writes in triplet groups, Kullak in quintolets.  Breitkopf & Hartel do not.  Dr. Hugo Riemann, who has edited a few of the Preludes, phrases the first bars thus: 

Desperate and exasperating to the nerves is the second prelude in A minor.  It is an asymmetric tune.  Chopin seldom wrote ugly music, but is this not ugly, forlorn, despairing, almost grotesque, and discordant?  It indicates the deepest depression in its sluggish, snake-like progression.  Willeby finds a resemblance to the theme of the first nocturne.  And such a theme!  The tonality is vague, beginning in E minor.  Chopin’s method of thematic parallelism is here very clear.  A small figure is repeated in descending keys until hopeless gloom and depraved melancholy are reached in the closing chords.  Chopin now is morbid, here are all his most antipathetic qualities.  There is aversion to life—­in this music he is a true lycanthrope.  A self-induced hypnosis, a mental, an emotional atrophy are all present.

Kullak divides the accompaniment, difficult for small hands, between the two.  Riemann detaches the eighth notes of the bass figures, as is his wont, for greater clearness.  Like Klindworth, he accents heavily the final chords.  He marks his metronome 50 to the half note.  All the editions are lento with alla breve.

That the Preludes are a sheaf of moods, loosely held together by the rather vague title, is demonstrated by the third, in the key of G. The rippling, rain-like figure for the left hand is in the nature of a study.  The melody is delicate in sentiment, Gallic in its esprit.  A true salon piece, this prelude has no hint of artificiality.  It is a precise antithesis to the mood of the previous one.  Graceful and gay, the G major prelude is a fair reflex of Chopin’s sensitive and naturally buoyant nature.  It requires a light hand and nimble fingers.  The melodic idea requires no special comment.  Kullak phrases it differently from Riemann and Klindworth.  The latter is the preferable.  Klindworth gives 72 to the half note as his metronomic marking, Riemann only 60—­which is too slow—­while Klindworth contents himself by marking a simple Vivace.  Regarding the fingering one may say that all tastes are pleased in these three editions.  Klindworth’s is the easiest.  Riemann breaks up the phrase in the bass figure, but I cannot see the gain on the musical side.