him of the moment and distributed her favors quite promiscuously.
In 1804 she was made directress of the Paris Opera, and some years
after, returning from a most wonderful London engagement, she sang in
_Romeo and Juliet_ with such effect that the usually impassive Napoleon
sprang to his feet, shouting like a schoolboy; the next day, as a
testimonial of his appreciation, he sent her a check for twenty thousand
francs.

Angelica Catalani first created a stir in the world at the age of
twelve, when, as a novice in the convent of Santa Lucia at Gubbio, in
the duchy of Urbino, she sang for the daily service in the little chapel
with such amazing sweetness that people came from all the neighborhood
to listen to her. After some preliminary training, which was undertaken
without the entire approval of the girl's father, Angelica was confided
to the care of the great teacher Marchesi, who soon put her in the front
rank of singers. Her success upon the stage was unquestioned, and her
voice was one of the most remarkable in all the history of music, being
a pure soprano, with a compass of nearly three octaves,--from G to
F,--and so clear and powerful that it rose fresh, penetrating, and
triumphant above the music of any band or orchestra which might be
playing her accompaniment. Bell-like in quality and ever true, this
voice lacked feeling, and while it never failed to awaken unbounded
enthusiasm, it rarely, if ever, brought a thrill of deeper emotion.

Giuditta Pasta, who became the lyric Siddons of her age, began her
career as an artist laboring under many disadvantages, for she lacked a
graceful personality and possessed a voice of but moderate power and
sweetness. One thing she did possess in full measure, however, and that
was an artistic temperament, which, combined with her unbounded ambition
and her ability for hard work, soon brought her public recognition. Her
simple but effective manner of singing and her wonderful histrionic
ability made all her work dignified and impressive; her representation
of the character of Medea, in Simon Mayer's opera by that name, has been
called the "grandest lyric impersonation in the records of art." When
the great actor Talma heard her in the days of her early success in
Paris, he said: "Here is a woman of whom I can still learn. One turn of
her beautiful head, one glance of her eye, one light motion of her hand,
is, with her, sufficient to express a passion." The whole continent was
at