them. We may even say that it is because of this absence of what is essential that "Learning"—quite the wrong word, by the way—is prodigiously to the fore. Where there are both inspiration and mastery, "learning" exists certainly (and in a higher degree), but one does not notice it.
VIII
I have dealt with Grétry as he was in the prosperous and glorious period of his artist's life. It lasted rather more than twenty years, from 1768 to the first years of the Revolution. The numerous works which he produced during this time met with varying success, but several were brilliant triumphs, and by 1792 the indefatigable composer counted more victories than rebuffs in his total. He was therefore an exceptionally fortunate artist. In this part of his career there fell across his path, it is true, an event which might have wrecked him. I refer to the great quarrel between Glück and Piccini, which divided the world of musicians and music-lovers into two camps both ready to fight to the death. But he had the good fortune to emerge unscathed from this tempest which had seemed as if it would spare no position already won, no established reputation. He owed his safety partly to his own adaptability and tact, but far more to the merit of his works which were recommended not by any brilliant artificiality, but by the calm and steady light of truth. The realm of comic opera in which he held sway was not drawn into the battle, or at any rate did not incur heavy casualties.
The Revolution was destined to affect his interests far more seriously. Not that he put himself forward as
