long or distant excursions from it.  The variations of the principal subject are more emphatic restatements of it:  the first is more impressive than the original, the second more eloquently beseeching than either of them.  I resist, though with difficulty, the temptation to point out in detail the interesting course of the composer’s thoughts, and proceed at once to the coda which, palpitating and swelling with passion, concludes the fourth and, alas! last ballade.

We have now passed in review not only all the compositions published by Chopin himself, but also a number of those published without his authorisation.  The publications not brought about by the master himself were without exception indiscretions; most of them, no doubt, well meant, but nevertheless regrettable.  Whatever Fontana says to the contrary in the preface to his collection of Chopin’s posthumous works, [footnote:  The Chopin compositions published by Fontana (in 1855) comprise the Op. 66- 74; the reader will see them enumerated in detail in the list of cur composer’s works at the end of this volume.] the composer unequivocally expressed the wish that his manuscripts should not be published.  Indeed, no one acquainted with the artistic character of the master, and the nature of the works published by himself, could for a moment imagine that the latter would at any time or in any circumstances have given his consent to the publication of insignificant and imperfect compositions such as most of those presented to the world by his ill-advised friend are.  Still, besides the “Fantaisie-Impromptu,” which one would not like to have lost, and one or two mazurkas, which cannot but be prized, though perhaps less for their artistic than their human interest, Fontana’s collection contains an item which, if it adds little value to Chopin’s musical legacy, attracts at least the attention of the lover and student of his music-namely, Op. 74, Seventeen Polish Songs, composed in the years 1824-1844, the only vocal compositions of this pianist-composer that have got into print.  The words of most of these songs are by his friend Stephen Witwicki; others are by Adam Mickiewicz, Bogdan Zaleski, and Sigismond Krasinski, poets with all of whom he was personally acquainted.  As to the musical settings, they are very unequal:  a considerable number of them decidedly commonplace—­Nos. 1, 5, 8, and also 4 and 12 may be instanced; several, and these belong to the better ones, exceedingly simple and in the style of folk-songs—­ No. 2 consists of a phrase of four bars (accompanied by a pedal bass and the tonic and dominant harmonies) repeated alternately in G minor and B flat major; and a few more developed in form and of a more artistic character.  In the symphonies (the preludes, interludes, &c.) of the songs, we meet now and then with reminiscences from his instrumental pieces.  In one or two cases one notices also pretty tone-painting—­for instance, No. 10, “Horseman before the Battle,”