Deeply regretted as he may be by the whole body of artists,
lamented by all who have ever known him, we must still be
permitted to doubt if the time has even yet arrived in which he,
whose loss is so peculiarly deplored by ourselves, can be
appreciated in accordance with his just value, or occupy that
high rank which in all probability will be assigned him in the
future.

If it has been often proved that "no one is a prophet in his own
country;" is it not equally true that the prophets, the men of
the future, who feel its life in advance, and prefigure it in
their works, are never recognized as prophets in their own times?
It would be presumptuous to assert that it can ever be otherwise.
In vain may the young generations of artists protest against the
"Anti-progressives," whose invariable custom it is to assault and
beat down the living with the dead: time alone can test the real
value, or reveal the hidden beauties, either of musical
compositions, or of kindred efforts in the sister arts.

As the manifold forms of art are but different incantations,
charged with electricity from the soul of the artist, and
destined to evoke the latent emotions and passions in order to
render them sensible, intelligible, and, in some degree,
tangible; so genius may be manifested in the invention of new
forms, adapted, it may be, to the expression of feelings which
have not yet surged within the limits of common experience, and
are indeed first evoked within the magic circle by the creative
power of artistic intuition. In arts in which sensation is linked
to emotion, without the intermediate assistance of thought and