Nocturne a terrible declaration of war against a whole musical past."
Chopin, himself, modest as he was in his manners, wrote to his teacher
Elsner, in 1831, when he was twenty-two years of age: "Kalkbrenner
will not be able to break my perhaps bold but noble determination to
create a new epoch in art."

Now, why has the world been so slow in recognizing that Chopin stands
in the very front rank of creative musicians? One reason doubtless is
that he was so quiet and retiring in his personal disposition. His
still, small voice was lost in the din of musical warfare. He warmly
defended the principles of the romantic school, if necessary, and had
decided opinions of other musicians, especially of the popular
pianists of his day who vitiated the public taste with their show
pieces; but he generally kept them to himself or confided them only to
his friends, whom he even occasionally implored to keep them secret.
Had he, like Richard Wagner, attacked everybody, right and left, who
stood in the way of the general recognition of his genius, his cause
would have doubtless assumed greater prominence in the eyes of the
public, even though the parlor piano does not afford so much
play-ground for warfare as the operatic stage.

The chief reason, however, why musical authorities have so long
hesitated to acknowledge that Chopin is one of the very greatest
explorers and pioneers in the domain of their art, is to be found in
what, for want of a better term, may be called æsthetic Jumboism. When
the late lamented Jumbo was in New York he attracted so much attention
that his colleagues, although but little inferior in size, had "no
show" whatever. Everybody crowded around Jumbo, stuffing him with
bushels of oranges and apples, while the other elephants were entirely
ignored. As elephants are intelligent animals, is it not probable that