gave her so great a place on the operatic stage. Her acute soprano,
mounting to E flat _altissimo_, had in it many acrid and piercing notes,
and was utterly without the caressing, honeyed sweetness which, for
example, gave such a sensuous charm to the voice of Mme. Grisi. But she
was an incomparable mistress over the difficulties of vocalization. From
her father, Tacchinardi, who knew every secret of his art, she received
a full bequest of his knowledge. Her voice was developed to its utmost
capacity, and it was said of her that every fiber in her frame seemed
to have a part in her singing; there was nothing left out, nothing kept
back, nothing careless, nothing unfinished. So sedulous was she in the
employment of her vast and varied resources that she frequently rose
to an animation which, if not sympathetic, as warmth kindling warmth,
amounted to that display of conscious power which is resistless.
The perfection with which she wrought up certain scenes, such as the
"Sonnambula" _finale_ and the mad scene in "Lucia," judged from the
standard of musical style, was not surpassed in any of the dazzling
displays of the stage. She had the finest possible sense of accent,
which enabled her to give every phrase its fullest measure.

Groups of notes were divided and expressed by her with all the precision
which the best violinists put into their bowing. The bird-like case with
which she executed the most florid, rapid, and difficult music was so
securely easy and unfailing as to excite something of the same kind of
wonder with which one would watch some matchless display of legerdemain.

Another great musical quality in which she surpassed her contemporaries
was her taste and extraordinary facility in ornament. Always refined and
true in style, she showed a variety and brilliancy in her changes and
cadenzas which made her the envy of other singers. In this form of
accomplishment she was first among Italians, who, again, are first among