considered himself under any obligation
to the Prince, or rather, he acted as though he felt the obligation to
be the other way. He acted independently from the start, taking his
meals at a restaurant whenever it suited his convenience, and showing an
ungovernable temper when interfered with in any way. But the kindness
and patience of the Princess never failed her; after any trouble it was
she who smoothed the difficulty and restored harmony. She was like an
indulgent mother to him; in her eyes he could do no wrong.

Prince Lichnowsky was wholly unaccustomed to this sort of thing. It is
certain that he never met with anything of the kind from Mozart, and
there were times when his patience was sorely tried by Beethoven. The
Princess, with a sweetness and graciousness which Beethoven appreciated,
always made peace between them. He afterward said that her solicitude
was carried to such a length that she wished to put him under a glass
shade, "that no unworthy person might touch or breathe on me."

Of course this kind of thing only confirmed the young man in his course.
It was kindness, but it was not wisdom. Few people are so constituted as
to be able to stand praise and adulation without the character suffering
thereby. Censure would have been much better for him. When the
individual is attacked, when he is made to assume the defensive, he
first discovers the vulnerable points in his armor, and as opportunity
offers strengthens them. Beethoven's ungovernable temper and apparent
ingratitude are frequently commented on, but the ingratitude was only
apparent. When he came to a knowledge of himself and discovered that he
was in the wrong in any controversy or quarrel, and it must be admitted
they were frequent enough all through his life, he would make amends for
it so earnestly, with such vehement self-denunciation, and show such
contrition, that it would be impossible for any of his friends to hold
out against him. Then there would be a short love-feast, during which
the offended party would possibly be the recipient of a dedication from
the master, and things would go on smoothly until the next break. The
Prince soon learned to make all sorts of concessions to his headstrong
guest, and even went so far as to order his servant to give Beethoven
the precedence, in case he and Beethoven were to ring at the same time.

But Beethoven did not like the new life. Even the little restraint that
it imposed was irksome to him, and