We may be properly independent of the patronage of royalty, but this independence need not take the form of rudeness as with the musician in these incidents:
Liszt refused to play at court of Queen Isabella in Spain because the court etiquette forbade the introduction of musicians to royalty. In his opinion even crowned heads owed a certain deference and homage to the sovereignities of art, and he determined it should be paid.
He met Czar Nicholas I, who had very little notion of the respect due to any one but himself, with an angry look and a defiant word; he tossed Frederick William IV’s diamonds into the side scenes, and broke a lance with Louis Philippe, which cost him a decoration. He never forgave that thrifty King for abolishing certain musical pensions and otherwise snubbing art. He refused on every occasion to play at the Tuilleries. One day the king and his suite paid a “private view” visit to a pianoforte exhibition of Erard’s. Liszt happened to be in the room, and was trying a piano just as his Majesty entered. The King advanced genially toward him and began a conversation, but Liszt merely bowed with a polished but icy reserve.
“Do you still remember,” said the King, “that you played at my house when you were but a boy and I Duke of Orleans? Much has changed since then.”
“Yes, sire,” replied Liszt dryly, “but not for the better.”
The King showed his royal appreciation of the repartee by striking the great musician’s name off the list of those who were about to receive the Cross of the Legion of Honor.—H. R. Haweis, “My Musical Memories.”
(2869)
SELF-ESTIMATE
John the Baptist said of Christ, “He must increase but I must decrease.” Scott’s attitude toward Byron was similar.
It is characteristic of Scott that he knew perfectly well when Byron began to write his day was over. He quietly said Byron had “bet him,” and he never sang again. Without a touch of jealousy, with simple manliness, Scott admitted that a greater poet than himself had come, and instead of waging a losing battle for his lost supremacy, he praised his rival, and then left the arena with all the honors of war. There are few men who could have done this. That Scott did it, and did it easily, is at once a proof of the sturdy manliness of his nature, and of the robust common sense and generosity which marked his character.—W. J. Dawson, “The Makers of English Poetry.”