Some of his former acquaintances were ill, others had gone away, and the rest were afraid that the agreeable, educated, and highly-gifted artist might settle in Vienna, and thus become a dangerous rival. Many even were displeased at his success in the drawing rooms. The rapid succession of military events in Poland frightened most of his patrons from serving him, while his own mind was more occupied with politics than music. Several of Fredericʼs letters, written in a spirit of patriotic enthusiasm, were destroyed by his parents, in case they should fall into the hands of the Russian Government, which had even instituted domiciliary visits. In consequence of the war, much that he wrote never reached Warsaw at all. The sad condition of his country made a deep and lasting impression on the mind of the young artist, so sensitive alike to happiness and sorrow. The gay, buoyant tone of his letters, which had formerly so delighted their recipients, changed to a certain discontent and sadness; even his pleasant wit, as the reader will see by the following correspondence, was frequently turned into bitter sarcasm. _Vienna, Wednesday before Christmas-day._ (_I have no almanack at hand, so do not know the day._) DEAREST PARENTS AND SISTERS, It was seven weeks, yesterday, since I left you. What for? But it is so, and cannot be helped. [Sidenote: DANCING AT THE HOUSE OF A JEWESS.] I was invited, yesterday, at the very hour that I was conducted to Wola, to a little dancing party, at the Weiberheimʼs. There were several handsome young people there, not old-fashioned looking, that is, not Old Testament-looking.[82] I was pressed to join the Cotillon; so I went round a few times and then returned home. The hostess and her amiable daughters had asked several musical people, but I was not in a humour for playing the piano.