t it was written
expressly for the concert-room, even if the orchestral accompaniments
were not there to prove the fact. A proud bearing, healthful vigour,
and sprightly vivacity distinguish Chopin on this occasion. But
notwithstanding the brave appearance, one misses his best qualities.
This polonaise illustrates not only the most brilliant, but also the
least lovable features of the Polish character--ostentatiousness and
exaggerated rhetoric. In it Chopin is discovered posturing, dealing in
phrases, and coquetting with sentimental affectations. In short, the
composer comes before us as a man of the world, intent on pleasing,
and sure of himself and success. The general airiness of the style is
a particularly-noticeable feature of this piece of Chopin's virtuosic
period.

The first bars of the first (in C sharp minor) of the two Polonaises,
Op. 26 (published in July, 1836), fall upon one's ear like a decision of
irresistible, inexorable fate. Indignation flares up for a moment,
and then dies away, leaving behind sufficient strength only for a dull
stupor (beginning of the second part), deprecation, melting tenderness
(the E major in the second part, and the closing bars of the first and
second parts), and declarations of devotion (meno mosso). While the
first polonaise expresses weak timidity, sweet plaintiveness, and a
looking for help from above, the second one (in E flat minor) speaks of
physical force and self-reliance--it is full of conspiracy and sedition.
The ill-suppressed murmurs of discontent, which may be compared to the
ominous growls of a volcano, grow in loudness and intensity, till at
last, with a rush and a wild shriek, there follows an explosion. The
thoughts flutter hither and thither, in anxious, helpless agitation.
Then martial sounds are heard--a secret gathering of a few, which soon
grows in number and in boldness. Now they draw nearer; you distinguish
the clatter of spurs and weapons, the clang of trumpets (D flat major).
Revenge and death are their watchwords, and with sullen determination
they stare desolation in the face (the pedal F with the trebled part
above). After an interesting transition the first section returns. In
the meno mosso (B major) again a martial rhythm is heard; this time,
however, the gathering is not one for revenge and death, but for battle
and victory. From the far-off distance the winds carry the message that
tells of freedom and glory. But what is this (the four bars b