drawing-room pieces. Of course, there are weak points: the
introduction to the Variations with those interminable sequences
of dominant and tonic chords accompanying a stereotyped run, and
the want of cohesiveness in the Rondo, the different subjects of
which are too loosely strung together, may be instanced. But,
although these two compositions leave behind them a pleasurable
impression, they can lay only a small claim to originality.
Still, there are slight indications of it in the tempo di valse,
the concluding portion of the Variations, and more distinct ones
in the Rondo, in which it is possible to discover the embryos of
forms--chromatic and serpentining progressions, &c.--which
subequently develop most exuberantly. But if on the one hand we
must admit that the composer's individuality is as yet weak, on
the other hand we cannot accuse him of being the imitator of any
one master--such a dominant influence is not perceptible.

[FOOTNOTE: Schumann, who in 1831 became acquainted with Chopin's
Op. 2, and conceived an enthusiastic admiration for the composer,
must have made inquiries after his Op. 1, and succeeded in
getting it. For on January 1832, he wrote to Frederick Wieck:
"Chopin's first work (I believe firmly that it is his tenth) is
in my hands: a lady would say that it was very pretty, very
piquant, almost Moschelesque. But I believe you will make Clara
[Wieck's daughter, afterwards Mdme. Schumann] study it; for there
is plenty of Geist in it and few difficulties. But I humbly
venture to assert that there are between this composition and Op.
2 two years and twenty works"]

All this, however, is changed in another composition, the Rondeau
a la Mazur, Op. 5, dedicated to the Comtesse Alexandrine de