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Updated: May 13, 2025
The destination of this walk was Schlesinger's music-shop, where Chopin presented his promising young pupil with the score of Beethoven's "Fidelio": "I am in your debt, you have given me much pleasure to-day. I wrote the Concerto in happier days. Receive, my dear little friend, this great master-work; read therein as long as you live, and remember me also sometimes."
So, as his little money was speedily gone, he had to live for a while on what his relatives and friends could give him, and afterwards by what he could earn by writing for Schlesinger's Gazette Musicale. This is what Meyerbeer's introductions were worth. However, he found and made friends, some, though not all, as poor as himself.
"Well, when are you going to get him?" "Oh, we shall have advertisements rolling in of themselves," said De Haan, with a magnificent sweep of the arm. "And we shall all assist in that department! Help yourself to another cigar, Sampson." And he passed Schlesinger's box.
I began to write articles for Schlesinger's wonderful paper. The first was a long essay, De la musique allemande, in which I expressed with the enthusiastic exaggeration characteristic of me at that time my appreciation of the sincerity and earnestness of German music.
Something should be deducted for the forced vivacity and straining after effect of the littérateur; but this sketch of a large class of peasantry from Max Schlesinger's "War in Hungary," just published in London, must have some foundation in truth and very like the Red Indians or half-breeds of Spanish America the people look.
I had already told my patroness the story of my earlier meeting with Liszt. During that fateful second winter of my stay in Paris, when I had at last been driven to be grateful for Schlesinger's hack-work, I one day received word from Laube, who always bore me in mind, that F. Liszt was coming to Paris.
Here is a sketch of him from Max Schlesinger's new book on the Hungarian war: "The Kanasz is a swineherd, whose occupation, everywhere unpoetical and dirty, is doubly troublesome and dirty in Hungary. Large droves of pigs migrate annually into the latter country from Serbia, where they still live in a half-wild state.
They say it's not worth twopence, and I'm sure they haven't got the funds to carry it on," replied Raphael, rising. "I'll go down about it at once. The Committee have just been here, and I dare say they are still in Schlesinger's office." "No, no," said Goldsmith, pushing him down into his seat. "It will never do if people know I'm the proprietor." "Why not?" "Oh, lots of reasons.
I also intended to ask for help from Heinrich, the brother of my brother-in-law, Brockhaus, as he was then in Paris; and I was going to call at Schlesinger's to raise the money to pay for the despatch of my score that day by the usual mail service. As I had also to deliver the metronome, I left Minna early in the morning after a sad good-bye.
Little Filtsch the talented young Hungarian who made Liszt say: "I shall shut my shop when he begins to travel" having played to a select company invited by his master the latter's Concerto in E minor, Chopin was so pleased with his pupil's performance that he went with him to Schlesinger's music-shop, asked for the score of "Fidelio," and presented it to him with the words: "I am in your debt, you have given me great pleasure to-day, I wrote the concerto in a happy time, accept, my dear young friend, the great master work! read in it as long as you live and remember me also sometimes."
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