minor being
chromatically related to Moscheles' etude, op. 70, No. 3, that piece
should prepare the way for Chopin's more musical composition. In
different degrees of tempo, strength and rhythmic accent it should be
practised, omitting the thumb and first finger. Mikuli's metronome is
144 to the quarter, Von Bulow's, 114; Klindworth's, the same as Mikuli,
and Riemann is 72 to the half, with an alla breve. The fingering in
three of these authorities is almost identical. Riemann has ideas of
his own, both in the phrasing and figuration. Look at these first two
bars:

[Musical score excerpt without caption: ]

Von Bulow orders "the middle harmonies to be played throughout
distinctly, and yet transiently"--in German, "fluchtig." In fact, the
entire composition, with its murmuring, meandering, chromatic
character, is a forerunner to the whispering, weaving, moonlit effects
in some of his later studies. The technical purpose is clear, but not
obtrusive. It is intended for the fourth and fifth finger of the right
hand, but given in unison with both hands it becomes a veritable but
laudable torture for the thumb of the left. With the repeat of the
first at bar 36 Von Bulow gives a variation in fingering. Kullak's
method of fingering is this: "Everywhere that two white keys occur in
succession the fifth finger is to be used for C and F in the right
hand, and for F and E in the left." He has also something to say about
holding "the hand sideways, so that the back of the hand and arm form
an angle." This question of hand position, particularly in Chopin, is
largely a matter of individual formation. No two hands are alike, no
two pianists use the same muscular movements. Play along the easiest
line of resistance.

We now have reached a study, the third, in which the more intimately
known Chopin reveals himself. This one in E is among the finest
flowering of the composer's choice garden. It is simpler, less morbid,
sultry and languorous, therefore saner, than the much bepraised study
in C sharp minor, No. 7, op. 25. Niecks writes that this study "may be
counted among Chopin's loveliest compositions." It combines "classical
chasteness of contour with the fragrance of romanticism." Chopin told
his faithful Gutmann that "he had never in his life written another
such melody," and once when hearing it raised his arms aloft and cried
out: "Oh, ma patrie!"

I cannot vouch for the sincerity of Chopin's utterance for as Runciman
write