The pedal is needful to give the requisite effect, and must change with every new harmony; but it should only be used in the latter stages of study, when the difficulties are nearly mastered.

We have our preferences.  Mine in op. 25 is the C minor study, which, like the prelude in D minor, is “full of the sound of great guns.”  Willeby thinks otherwise.  On page 81 in his life of Chopin he has the courage to write:  “Had Professor Niecks applied the term monotonous to No. 12 we should have been more ready to indorse his opinion, as, although great power is manifested, the very ‘sameness’ of the form of the arpeggio figure causes a certain amount of monotony to be felt.  “The C minor study is, in a degree, a return to the first study in C. While the idea in the former is infinitely nobler, more dramatic and tangible, there is in the latter naked, primeval simplicity, the larger eloquence, the elemental puissance.  Monotonous?  A thousand times no!  Monotonous as is the thunder and spray of the sea when it tumbles and roars on some sullen, savage shore.  Beethov-ian, in its ruggedness, the Chopin of this C minor study is as far removed from the musical dandyisms of the Parisian drawing rooms as is Beethoven himself.  It is orchestral in intention and a true epic of the piano.

Riemann places half notes at the beginning of each measure, as a reminder of the necessary clinging of the thumbs.  I like Von Bulow’s version the best of all.  His directions are most minute.  He gives the Liszt method of working up the climax in octave triplets.  How Liszt must have thundered through this tumultuous work!  Before it all criticism should be silenced that fails to allow Chopin a place among the greatest creative musicians.  We are here in the presence of Chopin the musician, not Chopin the composer for piano.

III

In 1840, Trois Nouvelles Etudes, by Frederic Chopin, appeared in the “Methode des Methodes pour le piano,” by F. J. Fetis and I. Moscheles.  It was odd company for the Polish composer.  “Internal evidence seems to show,” writes Niecks, “that these weakest of the master’s studies—­which, however, are by no means uninteresting and certainly very characteristic—­may be regarded more than op. 25 as the outcome of a gleaning.”

The last decade has added much to the artistic stature of these three supplementary studies.  They have something of the concision of the Preludes.  The first is a masterpiece.  In F minor the theme in triplet quarters, broad, sonorous and passionate, is unequally pitted against four-eight notes in the bass.  The technical difficulty to be overcome is purely rhythmic, and Kullak takes pains to show how it may be overcome.  It is the musical, the emotional content of the study that fascinates.  The worthy editor calls it a companion piece to the F minor study in op. 25.  The comparison is not an apt one.  Far deeper is this new study, and although the doors never swing quite open, we divine the tragic issues concealed.