multitude, while it was easily excused by cultivated ears, being, as
one connoisseur remarked, "like the wild luxuriance of poetical imagery,
which, though against the cold rules of the critic, constitutes the
true value of poetry." She had not the full tones of Banti, but rather
resembled those of Allegranti, whom she closely imitated. Her voice,
in its very high tones, was something of the quality of a flute or
flageolet, or resembled a commixture of the finest sounds of the flute
and violin, if such could be imagined. It was then "wild and wandering,"
but of singular sweetness. "Its agility," says Mount Edgcumbe, "was very
great, and everything she sang was executed in the neatest manner and
with the utmost precision. Her knowledge of music enabled her to give
great variety to her embellishments, which, as her taste was always
good, were always judicious." In her cadenzas, however, she was obliged
to trust to her memory, for she never could improvise an ornament. Her
ear was so delicate that she could instantly detect any instrument out
of tune in a large orchestra; and her intonation was perfect. In manner
she was "peculiarly bewitching," and her attitudes generally were good,
with the exception of an ugly habit of pressing her hands against
her bosom when executing difficult passages. Her face and figure were
beautiful, and her countenance was full of good humor, though not
susceptible of varied expression; indeed, as an actress, she had
comparatively little talent, depending chiefly on her voice for
producing effect on the stage.

Mrs. Billington's __début__ in London was on February 13, 1786, in the
presence of royalty and a great throng of nobility and fashion, in the
character of _Rosetta_ in "Love in a Village." Her success was beyond
the most sanguine hopes, and her brilliant style, then an innovation
in English singing, bewildered the pit and delighted the musical
connoisseurs. The leader of the orchestra was so much absorbed in one of