I received an invitation to dinner from the banker Mallet, to whom an uncle of mine, Harkort of Leipzig, had recommended me, and found myself sitting beside Chopin. The same evening I heard him play, and was fascinated beyond expression. It seemed to me as if I had got into another world, and all thought of Kalkbrenner was driven out of my mind. I sat entranced, filled with wonderment, and if the room had suddenly been peopled with fairies, I should not have been astonished. The marvellous charm, the poetry and originality, the perfect freedom and absolute lucidity of Chopin's playing at that time cannot be described. It was perfection in every sense. He seemed to be pleased with the evident impression he had produced, for I could only stammer a few broken words of admiration, and he played again and again, each time revealing new beauties, until I could have dropped on my knees to worship him. I returned home in a state of complete bewilderment, and it was only the next day that I began to realise what was before me how much study and hard work, in order to get that technical command over the keyboard, without which I knew now that no good result could be achieved. << less