Seriously, the sentence was a whole paragraph long, and the murders did begin, "...where it is no less indispensible to the composer, and no less liked by the public than the flute, the clarinet, and even the violin: where, in short, it has definitely won for itself the elevated position to which the beauty of its tone, the perfection of its mechanism ande the immensity of its resources, so justly entitle it."
Fortunately, our good Mr Arban only goes on to write some explaining of breathing and embouchure for a page or two, then proceeds to fill the next 340-some-odd pages with musical exercises.