to me, that Chopin became in his last years
so weak that his playing was sometimes hardly audible, I have already
related in a preceding chapter. There I have also mentioned what Mr.
Charles Halle' told me--namely, that in the latter part of his life
Chopin often played forte passages piano and even pianissimo, that,
for instance, at the concert we are speaking of he played the two forte
passages towards the end of the Barcarole pianissimo and with all
sorts of dynamic finesses. Mr. Otto Goldschmidt, who was present at the
concert on February 16, 1848, gave some interesting recollections of
it, after the reading of a paper on the subject of Chopin, by Mr. G.
A. Osborne, at one of the meetings of the Musical Association (see
Proceedings, of the Musical Association for the year 1879-80):--

He [Chopin] was extremely weak, but still his playing--by
reason of that remarkable quality which he possessed of
gradation in touch--betrayed none of the impress of weakness
which some attributed to piano playing or softness of touch;
and he possessed in a greater degree than any pianoforte-
player he [Mr. Goldschmidt] had ever heard, the faculty of
passing upwards from piano through all gradations of tone...It
was extremely difficult to obtain admission, for Chopin, who
had been truly described as a most sensitive man--which seemed
to be pre-eminently a quality of artistic organisations--not
only had a list submitted to him of those who ought to be
admitted, but he sifted that list, and made a selection from
the selected list; he was, therefore, surrounded by none but
friends and admirers. The room was beautifully decorated with
flowers of all kinds, and he could truly say that even now, at
the distance of thirty years, he had the most vivid
recollection of the concert...The audience was so enraptured
with his [Chopin's] playing that he was called forward again
and again.

In connection with what Mr. Goldschmidt and the writer in the Gazette
musicale say about the difficulty of admission and a sifted list, I have
to record, and I shall do no more than record, Franchomme's denial.
"I really believe," he said to me, "that this is a mere fiction. I saw
Chopin every day; how, then, could I remain ignorant of it?"

To complete my account of Chopin's last concert in Paris, I have yet
to add some scraps of information derived from Un nid d'autographes, by
Oscar Comettant, who was present at it, and