long interval between birth and baptism, which did not take place
till late in April, and the consequent possibility of an error in
the registration. This, however, could only affect the day, and
perhaps the month, not the year. It is certainly a very curious
circumstance that Fontana, a friend of Chopin's in his youth and
manhood, Karasowski, at least an acquaintance, if not an intimate
friend, of the family (from whom he derived much information),
Fetis, a contemporary lexicographer, and apparently Chopin's
family, and even Chopin himself, did not know the date of the
latter's birth.

Where the character of persons and works of art are concerned,
nothing is more natural than differences of opinion. Bias and
inequality of knowledge sufficiently account for them. For my
reading of the character of George Sand, I have been held up as a
monster of moral depravity; for my daring to question the
exactitude of Liszt's biographical facts, I have been severely
sermonised; for my inability to regard Chopin as one of the great
composers of songs, and continue uninterruptedly in a state of
ecstatic admiration, I have been told that the publication of my
biography of the master is a much to be deplored calamity. Of
course, the moral monster and author of the calamity cannot
pretend to be an unbiassed judge in the case; but it seems to him
that there may be some exaggeration and perhaps even some
misconception in these accusations.

As to George Sand, I have not merely made assertions, but have
earnestly laboured to prove the conclusions at which I
reluctantly arrived. Are George Sand's pretentions to self-
sacrificing saintliness, and to purely maternal feelings for