en able, but he had no voice,
though this did not prevent his humming now and then pieces which struck
his fancy; and as these little reminiscences usually recurred to him in
the mornings, he regaled me with them while he was being dressed. The
air that I have heard him thus mutilate most frequently was that of The
Marseillaise. The Emperor also whistled sometimes, but very rarely; and
the air, 'Malbrook s'en va-t-en guerre', whistled by his Majesty was an
unerring announcement to me of his approaching departure for the army.
I remember that he never whistled so much, and was never so gay, as just
before he set out for the Russian campaign.

His Majesty's, favorite singer were Crescentini and Madame Grassini.
I saw Crescentini's debut at Paris in the role of Romeo, in Romeo and
Juliet. He came preceded by a reputation as the first singer of Italy;
and this reputation was found to be well deserved, notwithstanding all
the prejudices he had to overcome, for I remember well the disparaging
statements made concerning him before his debut at the court theater.
According to these self-appointed connoisseurs, he was a bawler without
taste, without method, a maker of absurd trills, an unimpassioned actor
of little intelligence, and many other things besides. He knew, when he
appeared on the stage, how little disposed in his favor his audience
were, yet he showed not the slightest embarrassment; this, and his noble,
dignified mien, agreeably surprised those who expected from what they had
been told to behold an awkward man with an ungainly figure. A murmur of
approbation ran through the hall on his appearance; and electrified by
this welcome, he gained all hearts from the first act. His movements
were full of grace and dignity; he had a perfect knowledge of the scene,
modest gestures perfectly in harmony with the dialogue, and a countenance
on which all shades of passion were depicted with the most astonishing
accuracy; and all these rare and precious qualities combined to give to
the enchanting accents of this artist a charm of which it is impossible
to give an idea.

At each scene the interest he inspired became more marked, until in the
third act the emotion and delight of the spectator were carried almost to
frenzy. In this act, played almost solely by Crescentini, this admirable
singer communicated to the hearts of his audience all that is touching
and, pathetic in a love expressed by means of delicious melody, and by
all