ter's long course of training, these things and the applause of all Europe would have been lost to him, and his name would probably never have appeared in the list of the world's great singers.
115.—FIELD FOOLED.
John Nepomuk Hummel was one of the most prominent European pianists of the early part of the present century. But greatness and good looks do not go hand in hand in all cases. Though he was, in his day, ranked the equal of Beethoven, and though he was feted and flattered in all the musical centers of Europe, the fact still remained that he was a very plain and ill-favored sort of a fellow, throwing even Schubert into the shade in this respect. In 1822, Hummel went to Russia, in the suite of the grand duchess, and there his reception was of the most flattering and brilliant kind. But there was one thing that marred that cordial reception at Moscow, and that was that the greatest composer and pianist of all Russia did not call on him. This personage was no less than John Field, the Russianized Irishman, the pupil of Clementi.
Finally, Hummel concluded that if the mountain would not come to Mahomet, Mahomet would go to the mountain, and he started out to find Field. When he arrived at Field's rooms he found him giving a lesson and was compelled to await his pleasure. Hummel, with his stout, thick-set body and plain features, and poorly dressed, looked like some German farmer; Field, on the other hand, was elegant in bearing and courtly in manner.
At the close of the lesson, Field turned to his visitor with a gruff "Well, sir, what can I do for you?"
"I have heard so much of your playing that, as I was in Moscow on business, I thought I would come in and make your acquaintance, and hear some of it myself. I am very fond of music and understand it a little."
