I embrace you once more. You are going to the war; return as a colonel. May all pass off well! Why may I not at least be your drummer?

Forgive the disorder in my letter, I write as if I were intoxicated.

The disorder of the letters is indeed very striking; it is great in the foregoing extracts, and of course ten times greater with the interspersed descriptions, bits of news, and criticisms on music and musicians. I preferred separating the fundamental and always-recurring thoughts, the all-absorbing and predominating feelings, from the more superficial and passing fancies and affections, and all those matters which were to him, if not of total indifference, at least of comparatively little moment; because such a separation enables us to gain a clearer and fuller view of the inner man and to judge henceforth his actions and works with some degree of certainty, even where his own accounts and comments and those of trustworthy witnesses fail us. The psychological student need not be told to take note of the disorder in these two letters and of their length (written to the same person within less than a week, they fill nearly twelve printed pages in Karasowski's book), he will not be found neglecting such important indications of the temporary mood and the character of which it is a manifestation. And now let us take a glance at Chopin's outward life in Vienna.

I have already stated that Chopin and Woyciechowski lived together. Their lodgings, for which they had to pay their landlady, a baroness, fifty florins, were on the third story of a house in the Kohlmarkt, and consisted of three elegant rooms. When his friend left, Chopin thought the rent too high for his purse, and as an English family was willing to pay as much as eighty florins, he sublet the rooms and removed to the fourth story, where he found in the Baroness von Lachmanowicz an agreeable young landlady, and had equally roomy apartments which cost him only twenty florins and pleased him quite well. The house was favourably situated, Mechetti being on the right, Artaria on the left, and the opera behind; and as people were not deterred by the high stairs from visiting him, not even old Count Hussarzewski, and a good profit would accrue to him from those eighty florins, he could afford to laugh at theprobable dismay of his friends picturing him as "a poor devil living in a garret," and could do so the more heartily as there was in reality another story between him and the roof. He gives his people a very pretty description of his lodgings and mode of life:—

I live on the fourth story, in a fine street, but I have to strain my eyes in looking out of the window when I wish to see what is going on beneath. You will find my room in my new album when I am at home again. Young Hummel

If is evident that there was no occasion to fear that Chopin would kill himself with too hard work. Indeed, the number of friends, or, not to misuse this sacred name, let us rather say acquaintances, he had, did not allow him much time for study and composition. In his letters from Vienna are mentioned more than forty names of families and single individuals with whom he had personal intercourse. I need hardly add that among them there was a considerable sprinkling of Poles. Indeed, the majority of the houses where he was oftenest seen, and where he felt most happy, were those of his countrymen, or those in which there was at least some Polish member, or which had some Polish connection. Already on December 1, 1830, he writes home that he had been several times at Count Hussarzewski's, and purposes to pay a visit at Countess Rosalia Rzewuska's, where he expects to meet Madame Cibbini, the daughter of Leopold Kozeluch and a pupil of Clementi, known as a pianist and composer, to whom Moscheles dedicated a sonata for four hands, and who at that time was first lady-in-waiting to the Empress of Austria. Chopin had likewise called twice at Madame Weyberheim's. This lady, who was a sister of Madame Wolf and the wife of a rich banker, invited him to a soiree "en petit cercle des amateurs," and some weeks later to a soiree dansante, on which occasion he saw "many young people, beautiful, but not antique [that is to say not of the Old Testament kind], "refused to play, although the lady of the house and her beautiful daughters had invited many musical personages, was forced to dance a cotillon, made some rounds, and then went home. In the house of the family Beyer (where the husband was a Pole of Odessa, and the wife, likewise Polish, bore the fascinating Christian name Constantia—the reader will remember her) Chopin felt soon at his ease. There he liked to dine, sup, lounge, chat, play, dance mazurkas, &c. He often met there the violinist Slavik, and the day before Christmas played with him all the morning and evening, another day staying with him there till two o'clock in the morning. We hear also of dinners at the house of his countrywoman Madame Elkan, and at Madame Schaschek's, where (he writes in July, 1831) he usually met several Polish ladies, who by their hearty hopeful words always cheered him, and where he once made his appearance at four instead of the appointed dinner hour, two o'clock. But one of his best friends was the medical celebrity Dr. Malfatti, physician-in- ordinary to the Emperor of Austria, better remembered by the musical reader as the friend of Beethoven, whom he attended in his last illness, forgetting what causes for complaint he might have against the too irritable master. Well, this Dr. Malfatti received Chopin, of whom he had already heard from Wladyslaw Ostrowski, "as heartily as if I had been a relation of his" (Chopin uses here a very bold simile), running up to him and embracing him as soon as he had got sight of his visiting-card. Chopin became a frequent guest at the doctor's house; in his letters we come often on the announcement that he has dined or is going to dine on such or such a day at Dr. Malfatti's.

December 1, 1830.—On the whole things are going well with me, and I hope with God's help, who sent Malfatti to my assistance—oh, excellent Malfatti!—that they will go better still.

December 25, 1830.—I went to dine at Malfatti's. This excellent man thinks of everything; he is even so kind as to set before us dishes prepared in the Polish fashion.

May 14, 1831.—I am very brisk, and feel that good health is the best comfort in misfortune. Perhaps Malfatti's soups have strengthened me so much that I feel better than I ever did. If this is really the case, I must doubly regret that Malfatti has gone with his family into the country. You have no idea how beautiful the villa is in which he lives; this day week I was there with Hummel. After this amiable physician had taken us over his house he showed us also his garden. When we stood at the top of the hill, from which we had a splendid view, we did not wish to go down again. The Court honours Malfatti every year with a visit. He has the Duchess of Anhalt-Cothen as a neighbour; I should not wonder if she envied him his garden. On one side one sees Vienna lying at one's feet, and in such a way that one might believe it was joined to Schoenbrunn; on the other side one sees high mountains picturesquely dotted with convents and villages. Gazing on this romantic panorama one entirely forgets the noisy bustle and proximity of the capital.

This is one of the few descriptive passages to be found in Chopin's letters—men and their ways interested him more than natural scenery. But to return from the villa to its owner, Chopin characterises his relation to the doctor unequivocally in the following statement:—"Malfatti really loves me, and I am not a little proud of it." Indeed, the doctor seems to have been a true friend, ready with act and counsel. He aided him with his influence in various ways; thus, for instance, we read that he promised to introduce him to Madame Tatyszczew, the wife of the Russian Ambassador, and to Baron Dunoi, the president of the musical society, whom Chopin thought a very useful personage to know. At Malfatti's he made also the acquaintance of some artists whom he would, perhaps, have had no opportunity of meeting elsewhere. One of these was the celebrated tenor Wild. He came to Malfatti's in the afternoon of Christmas-day, and Chopin, who had been dining there, says: "I accompanied by heart the aria from Othello, which he sang in a masterly style. Wild and Miss Heinefetter are the ornaments of the Court Opera." Of a celebration of Malfatti's name-day Chopin gives the following graphic account in a letter to his parents, dated June 25, 1831:- -