re alone! During the encore I found my way to the top of a tower on
the outside of the cathedral, and could still distinguish her wonderful
voice."

A charming incident is told of Mme. Catalani while in Brighton. Captain
Montague, cruising off that port, invited her and some other ladies to a
_fete_ on his ship, and the ladies were escorted on board by the Captain
in a boat manned by twenty men. The prima donna suddenly burst forth
with her pet song, "Rule Britannia," singing with electrical fire and
the full power of her magnificent voice. The tars dropped their oars,
and tears rolled down their weatherbeaten cheeks, while the Captain
said: "You see, madame, the effect this favorite air has on these brave
men when sung by the finest voice in the world. I have been in many
victorious battles, but never felt an excitement equal to this."

Mme. Catalani retired from the stage in 1831. Young and brilliant
rivals, such as Pasta and Son-tag, were rising to contest her
sovereignty, and for several years the critics had been dropping pretty
plain hints that it would be the most judicious and dignified course.
She settled on a magnificent estate near Lake Como, where she lived
with her two eldest children--a son and daughter--the younger son being
absent on military duty in the French army. This latter afterward became
an equerry to Napoleon III., and the other children occupied positions
of rank and honor. Mme. Catalani founded a school of gratuitous
instruction for young girls near her beautiful villa, and exacted that
all who graduated from this school should adopt her own name. One,
Signora Masilli-Catalani, became quite an eminent singer. Mrs. Trollope
tells us something of Catalani's latter days as she visited her in
Italy: "Nothing could be more amiable than the reception she gave us."
She expressed a great admiration and love for the English. Her beauty
was little injured. "Her eyes and teeth are still magnificent," says
Mrs. Trollope, "and I am told that, when seen in evening full dress
by candlelight, no stranger can see her for the first time without
inquiring who that charming-looking woman is." Mrs. Trollope hinted to
Mlle, de Valle-breque that she would like to hear her mother sing; and
in a moment Mme. Catalani was at the piano, smiling at the whispered
request from her daughter. "I know not what it was she sang, but
scarcely had she permitted her voice to swell into one of those bravura
passages, of which her e