There are two persons concerned in the affair; it is a love- scene in a discrete gondola; let us say this mise en scene is the symbol of a lovers’ meeting generally.  This is expressed in the thirds and sixths; the dualism of two notes (persons) is maintained throughout; all is two-voiced, two-souled.  In this modulation here in C sharp major (superscribed dolce sfogato), there are kiss and embrace!  This is evident!  When, after three bars of introduction, the theme, lightly rocking in the bass solo, enters in the fourth, this theme is nevertheless made use of throughout the whole fabric only as an accompaniment, and on this the cantilena in two parts is laid; we have thus a continuous, tender dialogue.

Both Lenz’s first and last impressions were correct.  The form of the barcarolle is that of most of Chopin’s nocturnes—­consisting of three sections, of which the third is a modified repetition of the first—­only everything is on a larger scale, and more worked out.  Unfortunately, the contrast of the middle section is not great enough to prevent the length, in spite of the excellence of the contents, from being felt.  Thus we must also subscribe to the “nine pages of enervating music.”  Still, the barcarolle is one of the most important of Chopin’s compositions in the nocturne-style.  It has distinctive features which decidedly justify and make valuable its existence.  Local colouring is not wanting.  The first section reminded me of Schumann’s saying that Chopin in his melodies leans sometimes over Germany towards Italy.  If properly told, this love-laden romance cannot fail to produce effect.

Of the pieces that bear the name “Berceuse,” Chopin’s Op. 57 (published in June, 1845) is the finest, or at least one of the finest and happiest conceptions.  It rests on the harmonic basis of tonic and dominant.  The triad of the tonic and the chord of the dominant seventh divide every bar between them in a brotherly manner.  Only in the twelfth and thirteenth bars from the end (the whole piece contains seventy) the triad of the subdominant comes forward, and gives a little breathing time to the triad of the tonic, the chord of the dominant having already dropped off.  Well, on this basis Chopin builds, or let us rather say, on this rocking harmonic fluid he sets afloat a charming melody, which is soon joined by a self-willed second part.  Afterwards, this melody is dissolved into all kinds of fioriture, colorature, and other trickeries, and they are of such fineness, subtlety, loveliness, and gracefulness, that one is reminded of Queen Mab, who comes—­

    In shape no bigger than an agate-stone
    On the fore-finger of an alderman. 
    Drawn with a team of little atomies
    Athwart men’s noses as they lie asleep;
    Her waggon-spokes made of long spinners’ legs,
    The cover of the wings of grasshoppers;
    The traces of the smallest spider’s web;
    The collars of the moonshine’s watery beams;
    Her whip of cricket’s bone; the lash of film;
    Her waggoner a small grey-coated gnat.