ded by sadness. Weber--I mention his name
intentionally--would, for instance, in the D flat major portion have
concluded the melodic phrase in diatonic progression and left the
harmony pure. Now see what Chopin does. The con anima has this mark of
melancholy still more distinctly impressed upon it. After the repetition
of the capricious, impulsively-passionate first section (in B flat minor
and D flat major) follows the delicious second, the expression of which
is as indescribable as that of Leonardo da Vinci's "La Gioconda." It is
a pondering and wondering full of longing. In the deep, tender yearning,
with the urging undercurrent of feeling, of the C sharp minor portion,
the vague dreaming of the preceding portion of the section grows into
wakefulness, and the fitful imagination is concentrated on one object.
Without continuing the emotional or entering on a formal analysis of
this scherzo, I venture to say that it is a very important composition,
richer and more varied in emotional incidents than the other works of
Chopin which bear the same name. More than to any one of the master's
scherzos, the name capriccio would be suitable to his third "Scherzo,"
Op. 39, with its capricious starts and changes, its rudderless drifting.
Peevishness, a fierce scornfulness, and a fretful agitation, may be
heard in these sounds, of jest and humour there is nothing perceptible.
At any rate, the curled lip, as it were, contradicts the jesting words,
and the careless exterior does not altogether conceal the seething rage
within. But with the meno mosso (D flat major) come pleasanter thoughts.
The hymn-like snatches of sustained melody with the intervening airy
interludes are very lovely. These are the principal features, to
describe all the whims is of course impossible. You may call this work
an extravaganza, and point out its grotesqueness; but you must admit
that only by this erratic character of the form and these spasmodic
movements, could be expressed the peculiar restiveness, fitfulness,
and waywardness of thought and feeling that characterise Chopin's
individuality. To these unclassical qualities--for classical art is
above all plastic and self-possessed--combined as they are with a high
degree of refinement and delicacy, his compositions owe much of their
peculiar charm. The absence of scorn distinguishes the fourth "Scherzo,"
Op. 54, from the other three; but, like them, although less closely
wrapped, it wears dark veils. The