begged Chopin to consider well his moral strength, because for
several years he had never contemplated without dread the idea
of leaving Paris, his physician, his acquaintances, his room
even, and his piano. He was a man of imperious habits, and
every change, however small it might be, was a terrible event
in his life.

Seeing that Liszt--who was at the time in Italy--and Karasowski
speak only from hearsay, we cannot do better than accept George
Sand's account, which contains nothing improbable. In connection
with this migration to the south, I must, however, not omit to
mention certain statements of Adolph Gutmann, one of Chopin's
pupils. Here is the substance of what Gutmann told me. Chopin was
anxious to go to Majorca, but for some time was kept in suspense
by the scantiness of his funds. This threatening obstacle,
however, disappeared when his friend the pianoforte-maker and
publisher, Camille Pleyel, paid him 2,000 francs for the
copyright of the Preludes, Op. 28. Chopin remarked of this
transaction to Gutmann, or in his hearing: "I sold the Preludes
to Pleyel because he liked them [parcequ'il les. aimait]." And
Pleyel exclaimed on one occasion: "These are my Preludes [Ce sont
mes Preludes]." Gutmann thought that Pleyel, who was indebted to
Chopin for playing on his instruments and recommending them,
wished to assist his friend in a delicate way with some money,
and therefore pretended to be greatly taken with these
compositions and bent upon possessing them. This, however, cannot
be quite correct; for from Chopin's letters, which I shall quote
I presently, it appears that he had indeed promised Pleyel the
Preludes, but before his departure received from him only 500
francs, the remaining 1,500 being paid months afterwards, on the