It was not until ten years later that he was threatened with the illness brought on by the excitement of Paris life. And if Frederic had been sickly, would his parents have permitted their only, tenderly loved son to travel abroad? Would they have consented to an absence of two years—which followed the earlier journeys—if the young artist had been troubled with a dangerous malady? Only in the last years of his life his physical strength was often greatly exhausted, in consequence of the rapid strides of the disease which caused his early death.
Chopinʼs playmate and schoolfellow, Wilhelm von Kolberg, who is still living in Warsaw, affirms that till manhood, Chopin was only ill once, and then from a cold. It is true that after the manner of loving womanly hearts, mother and sisters very much petted their dear Frederic. There was no lack of exhortations to “wrap up carefully in cold damp weather;” he laughed good-humouredly at the instructions, but followed them like an obedient son.
There were moments when, buried in thought, Frederic paid little heed to the outer world, and avoided even his best friends. These were times of communion with his muse, and he would suffer the intervention of no third person.
CHOPINʼS DISPOSITION. In a general way he was fond of pleasure, and delighted to share it with his parents, family and friends. He never marred anyoneʼs enjoyment. If he were among company who wished to dance, he would sit down to the piano without being pressed and play the most charming Mazurkas and other dances. If a bad player were at the piano, he would politely and pleasantly put himself in his place. In after years also, when he lived in Paris and had acquired a European reputation, he was always willing, in the kindest manner, to delight a Polish family with some national dances. As a player he was as indefatigable as the dancers, who in their enthusiasm often did not know how to stop.
Like all intelligent young men, Frederic returned from his travels with a wider knowledge of human nature. He perceived that the artists, whose acquaintance he had lately made, were not all so amiable and free from envy as he had imagined; he, therefore, clung the closer to the more noble-minded among his compeers, for whom he retained through life a friendly recollection.
Unfortunately, he did not fail to meet with bitter disappointments in later years.
The artists in Vienna looked upon Chopin as a young man with a thorough and most refined musical education, who was not puffed up with vanity, and had no thought of settling in the Imperial city. They were, therefore, favourably disposed towards him, and willingly lent their assistance.
Like every true artist and poet, Chopin was tormented with doubts as to the extent and range of his genius. Some, indeed, who heard him at the concerts which he gave in Vienna, said that his playing was not powerful enough; but with regard to his compositions there was but one opinion. Real connoisseurs of pianoforte playing, truly musical souls, knew how to value the smoothness, certainty, and elegance of his style. The wonderful penetrating and melancholy expression peculiar to Chopinʼs playing, found a response in all poetical minds. He was pre-eminently the pianist for poets, and could not be exalted too highly above the mass, who only desire technical skill and noise; the musicians were especially interested by the character and originality of his compositions. To complete the story of his Vienna experiences, I give two letters to his most intimate friend Woyciechowski.