his complicated chromatic
modulations. We can feel his individuality pulsating through every tone
evoked by those individualized fingers of his as they weave measures for
sylphs of dreamland, or summon to warfare heroes of the ideal world. We
are entranced by his luxuriant tone-coloring, induced to a large extent
by his original management of the pedals. We marvel at his softly
whispered, yet ever clearly distinct pianissimo, at the full, round tone
of its relative fortissimo, that was never harsh or noisy, and at all
the exquisitely graded nuances that lay between, with those time
fluctuations expressive of the ebb and flow of his poetic inner being.
No wonder Balzac maintained that if Chopin should but drum on the table
his fingers would evoke subtle-sounding music.

And what an example he has left for teachers. Delicately strung as he
was, he must often have endured tortures from the best of his pupils,
but so thoroughly was he consecrated to his art that he never faltered
in his efforts to lift those who confided in him to the aerial heights
he had found. A vivid picture of his method of teaching is given in the
lectures on "Frederic Chopin's Works and Their Proper Interpretation,"
by the Pole, Jean Kleczynski.

The basis of this method consisted in refinement of touch, for the
attainment of which a natural, easy position of the hand was considered
by Chopin a prime requisite. He prepared each hand with infinite care
before permitting any attempt at the reproduction of musical ideas. In
order to place it to advantage he caused it to be thrown lightly on the
keyboard so that the five fingers rested on the notes E, F sharp, G
sharp, A sharp and B, and without change of position required the
practice of exercises calculated to insure independence. The pupil was
instructed to go through these exercises first staccato, effected by a
free movement of the wrist, an admirable means of counteracting
heaviness and clumsiness, then legato-staccato, then accented legato,
then pure legato, modifying the power from pp to ff, and the movement
from andante to prestissimo.

He was exceedingly particular about arpeggio work, and insisted upon the
repetition of every note and passage until all harshness and roughness
of tone were eliminated. "Is that a dog barking?" he was known to
exclaim to an unlucky pupil whose attack in the opening arpeggio of a
Clementi study lacked the desired quality. A very independent use of the
thumb wa