Music, once admitted to the soul, becomes a sort of spirit, and never dies.

Bulwer-Lytton’s line treats music not as a passing entertainment but as an inward, formative presence. Once a melody or musical experience is truly “admitted” (received deeply rather than heard superficially), it becomes part of one’s inner life—something like a “spirit” that can console, haunt, elevate, or steady the mind long after the sound has ceased. The claim that it “never dies” points to music’s peculiar durability: it persists in memory, shapes emotion and identity, and can be reawakened instantly by recollection or repetition. The quote also implies an ethics of receptivity: what we allow into the soul can become enduring, for good or ill, and music is presented as a benign, quasi-immortal inhabitant.