ched with her delightful
rendering of an air in one of his oratorios, that he was actually seen
to imprint a paternal kiss upon her cheek.

It was also at the Festival of 1861 that I remember hearing
Giuglini--the "golden-throated Giuglini," as he was called. Was there
ever such sweet, luscious tenor voice, or a more charming and graceful
style of vocalization? He literally sang like a bird. He opened his
mouth and the notes were warbled forth with exquisite volubility and
ease. Giuglini's voice had not the power and breadth which Sims Reeves
could command, nor was his style so impassioned and fervent as Mario's,
but his tones and vocalization were something to hear once and remember
always.

But I am pausing too long over details. Let me hurry on. I remember the
disappointment with which Sullivan's cantata "Kenilworth" was received
at the Festival of 1867. The then young composer had made such a very
"palpable hit" by his "Tempest" music that great things were expected
from the new cantata he composed for Birmingham. But "Kenilworth" fell
very flat, and nothing afterwards happened to stir it up into a success.
Indeed, the work may almost be said to have died "still-born."

I fancy Sullivan himself had some premonition as to the fate of his new
composition. At least I know that I saw him in the Society of Artists'
Rooms on the day when his work was to be performed in the evening, and
on my asking him how he was he smiled "a kind of sickly smile," and told
me he felt very squeamish.

How different was the fate of Mr. J.F. Barnett's "Ancient Mariner."
Though the composer was a well-known musician no great things were
expected from his new cantata, but it took the musical world by storm.
It achieved instant success, and although it was regarded by many as
being nice innocent "bread and butter" music it is still alive and
popular, and will be while there is an ear left for spontaneous flowing
melody.

Of course I recollect Sullivan's second venture at the Birmingham
Musical Festival of 1873, when he produced his oratorio "The Light of
the World." Contrary to what should have been, the work was at best only
a _succes d'estime._ Yet it contains some of the best music its composer
has written. Parts of it are magnificent and masterly, whilst others are
strikingly impressive inspirations. That the oratorio is unequal may be
admitted, and it is decidedly heavy in places; moreover, it is too long.
Still, looking at its meri