The Sun.
London, England, 1841-07-08 00:00:00

damage. Her husband had induced her to offer this .-
want of respect to the public, in consequence of her
salary having fallen somewhat in arrear ; nor till it was
absolutely put to right would the proud heroine return
to the theatre.
At the end of this season Catalani may be said to have
abandoned the dramatic part of her profession, and en-
tered upon a wandering life, in the course of which she
visited all parts of Europe, exhibiting herself as a concert
singer, and wherever she went astonishing the world by
her amazing displays of vocal power. As soon as she
had in one place exhausted her slender stock of things,
got up for exhibition, she removed to another ; and
wherever she went she was received with unexampled
distinction. Persons of the highest rank vied with each
other in their attentions to the wonder of the age.
Princesses treated her as companion, and crowned heads
attended her with obsequious gallantry. The enormous
sums which she received were augmented by the costly
presents showered upon her by the great and wealthy
of the land she sojourned in. In the midst, too, of the
most trying circumstances in which a beautiful and fas-
cinating woman could be placed, surrounded with all the
siren dangers and golden temptations Of such a flood of
prosperity, she pursued her course immaculate and un-
stained. Her conduct, like Dian's, soared above sus-
picion, and not the faintest breath of calumny sullies the
fair crystal of her fame.
In 1816, she again
,travelled through the chief towns
of Europe f, and excited renewed admiration every-
where. The magnificent images of La Vestale, Mitri-
date, Elfrida, La Clemenza di Tito, Semiramide, and
Susanna were from time to time reproduced by her,
and were received with raptures everywhere.
The same nobleman, quoted above, saw her again in
1828, at the grand musical festival at York, and he thus
speaks of her last appearance in this country :—" It
may seem strange that in her latter years she should
please me more than in the most brilliant part of her
career. But so it was : and now I found out, that, al-
though at that time I liked her less than some of her
predecessors, I now liked her better than most of her
successors. The last notes I ever heard from her were
in my own house, accompanying herself on the piano-
forte in some beautiful little Italian canzonets. In per-
son she is grown large, but still very handsome, with
all her fine expression of countenance, and few or no
marks of age. She had with her a daughter, now mar-
ried, who sang a little, but inherited neither her mo-
ther's voice nor talents. I have since heard of her from
Florence, near which town she resides, and I hope will
long do so, in health and happiness."
Thus it was. 1831 could speak of her in this flatter-
ing way, while 1841 finds her folded in death, past hu-
man favour or wishes. Nevertheless, regret it as we
will, it is permitted to few to die like Catalan, to die
after the horizon of her destiny has long been gilded
with all the rich and variegated colours that bestow
beauty and happiness upon human existence,—to die
when the riches of the earth had flung around her
all imaginable beatitude, and the smiles of the Kings
and magnates of the world had fallen on her, and
. their hands had crowned her with fame's roses. After
all, it was beautiful to die like Catalani—by the lovely
waters of her own blue lake, in the bosom of her own
1 home : the sweet light of glory swimming round her
[ brow, and the world doing her homage from afar.