ity, which was already a marked one, that
vivid intuition--which already went beyond the limits of the traditional
holy of holies--had little chance of appreciation. Moreover, Delsarte
was timid; his genius had not yet acquired the audacity which dares.
Competition followed competition; would he win a prize? In answer to
this question which he had asked himself throughout the year, he saw
mediocrity crowned; his soul of light and fire was forced to bow before
will-o'-the-wisps, most of whom were soon extinguished in merited
oblivion.

The artist's regret was the more acute because he did not yet know the
course of human life. He had not proved the strange fatality--which
seeks to make itself a law--that, in general, success falls to the lot
of those who servilely follow in the ruts of routine. Happy are the
worshippers of art and poetry, those who have devoted their lives to
this sacred cult, if ambition and intrigue--with their attendant train
of flattery, party rings, and illegal speculation--do not invade the
stage whence the palms and the crowns are awarded!

Delsarte must also have learned in the course of his life, that genius,
a rare exception, is more rarely still judged by its peers; and yet, the
genius of this student was already revealed by various tokens; and for
his consolation, these premonitory symptoms were noted by other than the
official judges.

After one of these scholastic contests, Delsarte withdrew confused and
heavy-hearted: he had received but one vote in the competition; and even
that exception roused a sort of cheer, as if it were given to some
contemptible competitor.

The defeated youth walked slowly away, dragging at his heels all the
sorrow of his discomfiture, when two persons approached him; one was the
famous Marie Malibran, the other the brilliant tenor, Adolph Nourrit.

"Courage!" said the prima donna, pressing his hand. "I enjoyed hearing
you very much. You will be a great artist!"

"My friend," added Nourrit, "it was I who cast my vote for you: to my
mind, you are an incomparable singer. When I have my children taught
music, you shall certainly be their teacher."

Delsarte blessed the defeat which had brought him such precious
compensations. These voices which sounded so sweetly in his ear, were
soon extinguished by death; but they vibrated long in the heart which
they had comforted. The artist associated their dear memory with every
success which recalled to him their sympa