a very few musicians, cannot, therefore, be attributable to ill-health alone, although that too had, no doubt, something to do with it, directly or indirectly.  In short, the allegation that Chopin was “spoiled by the caprice of society,” as the above-quoted correspondent puts it, is not only probable, but even very likely.  Fastidious by nature and education, he became more so, partly in consequence of his growing physical weakness, and still more through the influence of the society with which, in the exercise of his profession and otherwise, he was in constant contact.  His pupils and many of his other admirers, mostly of the female sex and the aristocratic class, accustomed him to adulation and adoration to such an extent as to make these to be regarded by him as necessaries of life.  Some excerpts from Liszt’s book, which I shall quote here in the form of aphorisms, will help to bring Chopin, in his social aspect, clearly before the reader’s eyes:—­

  As he did not confound his time, thought, and ways with those
  of anyone, the society of women was often more convenient to
  him in that it involved fewer subsequent relations.

  He carried into society the uniformity of temper of people
  whom no annoyance troubles because they expect no interest.

  His conversation dwelt little on stirring subjects.  He glided
  over them; as he was not at all lavish of his time, the talk
  was easily absorbed by the details of the day.

He loved the unimportant talk [les causeries sans portee] of people whom he esteemed; he delighted in the childish pleasures of young people.  He passed readily whole evenings in playing blind-man’s-buff with young girls, in telling them amusing or funny little stories, in making them laugh the mad laughter of youth, which it gives even more pleasure to hear than the singing of the warbler. [Footnote:  This, I think, must refer to the earlier years of Chopin’s residence in Paris.]

In his relations and conversations he seemed to take an interest in what preoccupied the others; he took care not to draw them out of the circle of their personality inorder to lead them into his.  If he gave up little of his time, he, to make up for it, reserved to himself nothing of that which he granted.

The presence of Chopin was, therefore, always heartily welcome [fetee].  Not hoping to be understood [devine], disdaining to speak of himself [de se raconter lui-meme], he occupied himself so much with everything that was not himself that his intimate personality remained aloof, unapproached and unapproachable, under this polite and smooth [glissant] surface where it was impossible to get a footing.

  He pleased too much to make people reflect.

  He hardly spoke either of love or of friendship.

He was not exacting like those whose rights and just demands surpass by far what one would have to offer them.  The most intimate acquaintances did not penetrate to this sacred recess where, withdrawn from all the rest of his life, dwelt the secret motive power of his soul:  a recess so concealed that one scarcely suspected its existence.

  Ready to give everything, he did not give himself.