When I first knew him [Chopin] he was still a charming companion, gay and full of life ; a few years later his bodily decline began ; he grew weaker and weaker, to such a degree, that when we dined together at Leo's or at other friends' houses, he had to be carried upstairs, even to the first floor. His spirits and his mental energy remained, nevertheless, unimpaired, a proof of which he gave one evening, when, after having written his sonata for piano and violoncello, he invited a small circle of friends to hear it played by himself and Franchomme. On our arrival we found him hardly able to move, bent like a half opened penknife, and evidently in great pain. We entreated him to postpone the performance, but he would not hear of it ; soon he sat down to the piano, and as he warmed to his work, his body gradually resumed its normal position, the spirit having mastered the flesh.