hich a caustic notice appeared of the studies, op. 10, Rellstab
printed a letter, signed Chopin, the authenticity of which is extremely
doubtful. In it Chopin is made to call the critic "really a very bad
man." Niecks demonstrates that the Polish pianist was not the writer.
It reads like the effusion of some indignant, well meaning female
friend.

The B flat major Mazurka which opens op. 7 is the best known of these
dances. There is an expansive swing, a laissez-aller to this piece,
with its air of elegance, that are very alluring. The rubato
flourishes, and at the close we hear the footing of the peasant. A
jolly, reckless composition that makes one happy to be alive and
dancing. The next, which begins in A minor, is as if one danced upon
one's grave; a change to major does not deceive, it is too
heavy-hearted. No. 3, in F minor, with its rhythmic pronouncement at
the start, brings us back to earth. The triplet that sets off the
phrase has great significance. Guitar-like is the bass in its snapping
resolution. The section that begins on the dominant of D flat is full
of vigor and imagination; the left hand is given a solo. This Mazurka
has the true ring.

The following one, in A flat, is a sequence of moods. Its assertiveness
soon melts into tenderer hues, and in an episode in A we find much to
ponder. No. 5, in C, consists of three lines. It is a sort of coda to
the opus and full of the echoes of lusty happiness. A silhouette with a
marked profile.

Opus 17, No. 1, in B flat, is bold, chivalric, and I fancy I hear the
swish of the warrior's sabre. The peasant has vanished or else gapes
through the open window while his master goes through the paces of a
courtlier dance. We encounter sequential chords of the seventh, and
their use, rhythmically framed as they are, gives a line of sternness
to the dance. Niecks thinks that the second Mazurka might be called The
Request, so pathetic, playful and persuasive is it. It is in E minor
and has a plaintive, appealing quality. The G major part is very
pretty. In the last lines the passion mounts, but is never shrill.
Kullak notes that in the fifth and sixth bars there is no slur in
certain editions. Klindworth employs it, but marks the B sforzando. A
slur on two notes of the same pitch with Chopin does not always mean a
tie. The A flat Mazurka, No. 3, is pessimistic, threatening and
irritable. Though in the key of E major the trio displays a relentless
sort of humor. The ret