However often during the last few years of his suffering we may have feared the worst, Stravinsky's death came as a profound shock not only to those who had the good fortune of enjoying his personal acquaintance, but also to the whole world of music and the arts. Seldom has the loss of a great man been felt more acutely. The reassuring knowledge of his presence was like a sheet-anchor in the storm that rages through the arts. Stravinsky was the last in what Ernest Newman called ‘the royal line of composers’. Yet he had never wished to be one of their number, and when at last he had to join them, it was against his will. So the enfant terrible of bygone years became a doyen no less terrible.