“She was a phantom of delight
When first she gleamed upon my sight;
A lovely apparition, sent
To he a moment’s ornament;
Her eyes, as stars of twilight fair;
Like twilight’s, too, her dusky hair;
But all things else about her drawn
From May-time and the cheerful dawn;
A dancing shape, an image gay,
To haunt, to startle, and waylay.

              * * * * *

And now I see, with eye serene,
The very pulse of the machine;
A being breathing thoughtful breath,
A traveler between life and death;
The reason firm, the temperate will,
Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill;
A perfect woman, nobly planned,
To warn, to comfort, and command;
And yet a spirit still and bright,
With something of an angel light.”

          HARRIET MARTINEAU IN 1859.

* * * * *

IX.

MADAME MALIBRAN.

(BORN 1808—­DIED 1836.)

HER CAREER AS A SINGER—­KINDNESS OF HEART.

Marie Felicita Garcia, who died at the early age of twenty-eight, was one of the greatest singers the world has ever known.  Born at Paris in 1808, according to some biographers at Turin, she was the daughter of Manuel Garcia, the famous Spanish tenor singer, by whom she was so thoroughly trained that she made her first public appearance in London March 25, 1826, and achieved a remarkable and instant success.

She sang with wonderful acceptance in different parts of England, and in the Autumn of the same year came to America as prima donna of an opera company under the management of her father.  In New York her success was without precedent.  In the memory of many aged people there she still holds her place as the Queen of Song.

In the following year she married Eugene Malibran, an elderly French merchant, under whose name she was ever afterwards known.

Returning to Europe, she made her first appearance in Paris January 14, 1828, where she added other jewels to the singer’s crown.

We can not follow her throughout her brilliant career, but must hasten on to the closing scenes of her life.

In May, 1836, she fell from her horse and was seriously injured.  Not considering the matter in its true aspect, she kept her engagements during the Summer, and in September appeared in England, at the Manchester Musical Festival, though warned by her physician to desist.  As the result of the imprudence a nervous fever set in, and she died September 23d, 1836.

In one of the many notices of this great singer, these words are found: 

“Madame Malibran’s voice was a mezzo-soprano of great volume and purity, and had been brought to absolute perfection by the severe training of her father.  Her private character was irreproachable.  Few women have been more beloved for their amiability, generosity, and professional enthusiasm.  Her intellect was of a high order, and the charms of her conversation fascinated all who were admitted into the circle of her intimate friends.  Her benefactions amounted to such considerable sums that her friends were frequently obliged to interfere for the purpose of regulating her finances.”