took advantage of an annoying controversy to bid farewell to the English
public; for the artist who could sing solemn music with such thrilling
effect had the temper of a shrew, though it was easily placated. Mrs.
Billington generously offered her services to assist at her farewell
concert; and Mara, bursting into tears, threw her arms about the neck
of the greatest of her professional rivals. She did not sing again in
England till 1820. Speaking of this event, Kelly says, "It was truly
grievous to see such transcendent talents as she once possessed so sunk,
so fallen. I used every effort in my power to prevent her committing
herself, but in vain."

"When the incomparable Mme. Mara took leave of me on her return to the
Continent," says Dr. Kitchener, "I could not help expressing my regret
that she had not taken my advice to publish those songs of Handel (her
matchless performance of which gained her that undisputed preeminence
which she enjoyed), with the embellishments, etc., with which she
enriched them. This inimitable singer replied, 'Indeed, my good friend,
you attribute my success to a very different source than the real one.
It was not what I did, but the manner in which I did it. I could sing
six simple notes and produce every effect I could wish; another singer
may sing those very same notes with very different effect. I am sure
it was to my expression of the words that I owe everything. People have
often said to me, "Madame Mara, why do you not introduce more pretty
things, and passages, and graces in your singing?" I say, "These pretty
things are very pretty, to be sure, but the proper expression of the
words and the music is a great deal better."' This and her extraordinary
industry were the secrets of her undisputed sovereignty. She told me
that when she was encored in a song, which she very often was, on her
return home she seldom retired to rest without first inventing a new
cadence for the next performance of it. Here is an example for young