ion of the critical
acumen of the masses. This depreciation is due more to the concrete
work of the critic (which is only too often deserving of condemnation)
than to a denial of the good offices of criticism. This much should be
said for the musician, who is more liable to be misunderstood and more
powerless against misrepresentation than any other artist. A line
should be drawn between mere expression of opinion and criticism. It
has been recognized for ages--you may find it plainly set forth in
Quintilian and Cicero--that in the long run the public are neither bad
judges nor good critics. The distinction suggests a thought about the
difference in value between a popular and a critical judgment. The
former is, in the nature of things, ill considered and fleeting. It is
the product of a momentary gratification or disappointment. In a much
greater degree than a judgment based on principle and precedent, such
as a critic's ought to be, it is a judgment swayed by that variable
thing called fashion--"_Qual pium' al vento._"
[Sidenote: _Duties of the critic._]
[Sidenote: _The musician's duty toward the critic._]
But if this be so we ought plainly to understand the duties and
obligations of the critic; perhaps it is because there is much
misapprehension on this point that critics' writings have fallen under
their own condemnation. I conceive that the first, if not the sole,
office of the critic should be to guide public judgment. It is not for
him to instruct the musician in his art. If this were always borne in
mind by writers for the press it might help to soften the asperity
felt by the musician toward the critic; and possibly the musician
might then be persuaded to perform his first office toward the critic,
which is to hold up his hands while he labors to steady and dignify
public opinion. No true artist would give up years of honorable esteem
to be the object for a moment of feverish idolatry. The public are
fickle. "The garlands they twine," says Schumann, "they always pull to
pieces again to offer them in another form to the next comer who
chances to know how to amuse them better." Are such garlands worth the
sacrifice of artistic honor? If it were possible for the critic to
withhold them and offer instead a modest sprig of enduring bay, would
not the musician be his debtor?
[Sidenote: _The critic should steady public judgment._]
[Sidenote: _Taste and judgment must be achieved._]
Another thought. Concedi
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