And now let us turn once more from George Sand’s poetical inventions, distortions, and exaggerations, to the comparative sobriety and trustworthiness of letters.

Chopin to Fontana; Palma, December 3, 1838:—­

I cannot send you the MSS. as they are not yet finished.  During the last two weeks I have been as ill as a dog, in spite of eighteen degrees of heat, [footnote:  That is, eighteen degrees Centigrade, which are equal to about sixty- four degrees Fahrenheit.] and of roses, and orange, palm, and fig trees in blossom.  I caught a severe cold.  Three doctors, the most renowned in the island, were called in for consultation.  One smelt what I spat, the second knocked whence I spat, the third sounded and listened when I spat.  The first said that I would die, the second that I was dying, the third that I had died already; and in the meantime I live as I was living.  I cannot forgive Johnnie that in the case of bronchite aigue, which he could always notice in me, he gave me no advice.  I had a narrow escape from their bleedings, cataplasms, and such like operations.  Thanks to Providence, I am now myself again.  My illness has nevertheless a pernicious effect on the Preludes, which you will receive God knows when.

In a few days I shall live in the most beautiful part of the world.  Sea, mountains...whatever you wish.  We are to have our quarters in an old, vast, abandoned and ruined monastery of Carthusians whom Mend [footnote:  Mendizabal] drove away as it were for me.  Near Palma—­nothing more wonderful:  cloisters, most poetic cemeteries.  In short, I feel that there it will be well with me.  Only the piano has not yet come!  I wrote to Pleyel.  Ask there and tell him that on the day after my arrival here I was taken very ill, and that I am well again.  On the whole, speak little about me and my manuscripts.  Write to me.  As yet I have not received a letter from you.

  Tell Leo that I have not as yet sent the Preludes to the
  Albrechts, but that I still love them sincerely, and shall
  write to them shortly.

  Post the enclosed letter to my parents yourself, and write as
  soon as possible.

  My love to Johnnie.  Do not tell anyone that I was ill, they
  would only gossip about it.

[Footnote:  to Madame Dubois I owe the information that Albrecht, an attache to the Saxon legation (a post which gave him a good standing in society) and at the same time a wine-merchant (with offices in the Place Vendome—­his specialty being “vins de Bordeaux"), was one of Chopin’s “fanatic friends.”  In the letters there are allusions to two Albrechts, father and son; the foregoing information refers to the son, who, I think, is the T. Albrecht to whom the Premier Scherzo, Chopin’s Op. 20, is dedicated.]

Chopin to Fontana; Palma, December 14, 1838:—­