t
delicieux." To the author of the "Histoire dramatique en France" and
late curator of the Musee du Conservatoire I am indebted for some
precious communications. M. Gustave Chouquet, who at the time we are
speaking of was a youth and still at the College, informed me in a
charming letter that he was present at this concert at which Chopin
played, and also at the preceding one (on Good Friday) at which Liszt
played Weber's "Concertstuck," and that he remembered very well "the
fiery playing of Liszt and the ineffable poetry of Chopin's style."
In another letter M. Chouquet gave a striking resume of the vivid
reminiscences of his first impressions:--

Liszt, in 1835 [he wrote], represented a merveilleux the
prototype of the virtuoso; while in my opinion Chopin
personified the poet. The first aimed at effect and posed as
the Paganini of the piano; Chopin, on the other hand, seemed
never to concern himself [se preuccuper] about the public,
and to listen only to the inner voices. He was unequal; but
when inspiration took hold of him [s'emparait de hit] he made
the keyboard sing in an ineffable manner. I owe him some
poetic hours which I shall never forget.

One of the facts safely deducible from the often doubtful and
contradictory testimonies relative to Chopin's public performances is,
that when he appeared before a large and mixed audience he failed to
call forth general enthusiasm. He who wishes to carry the multitude
away with him must have in him a force akin to the broad sweep of a
full river. Chopin, however, was not a Demosthenes, Cicero, Mirabeau, or
Pitt. Unless he addressed himself to select conventicles of sympathetic
minds, the best of his subtle art remained uncomprehended. How well
Chopin knew this may be gathered from what he said to Liszt:--

I am not at all fit for giving concerts, the crowd
intimidates me, its breath suffocates me, I feel paralysed by
its curious look, and the unknown faces make me dumb. But you
are destined for it, for when you do not win your public, you
have the power to overwhelm it.

Opposition and indifference, which stimulate more vigorous natures,
affected Chopin as touch does the mimosa pudica, the sensitive
plant--they made him shrink and wither. Liszt observes correctly that
the concerts did not so much fatigue Chopin's physical constitution
as provoke his irritability as a poet; that, in fact, his delicate
constitution was less a