in “Fidelio,” “Don Giovanni,” Weber’s “Oberon” and “Euryanthe,” and Mozart’s “Serail.”  It was in “Fidelio,” however, that she raised the enthusiasm of her audiences to the highest pitch.  On returning again to Germany she appeared in opera with Scheckner and Sontag, in Berlin, winning laurels even at the expense of Mme. Sontag, who was then just on the eve of retiring from the stage, and who was inspired to her finest efforts as she was departing from the field of her triumphs.

Two years later Mme. Schroeder-Devrient accepted a proposition made to her by the manager of the Theatre Italiens to sing in a language and a school for which she was not fully qualified.  The season opened with such a dazzling constellation of genius as has rarely, if ever, been gathered on any one stage—­Pasta, Malibran, Schroeder-Devrient, Rubini, Bordogni, and Lablache.  Mme. Pasta’s illness caused the substitution of Schroeder-Devrient in her place in the opera of “Anna Bolena,” and the result was disastrous to the German singer.  But she retrieved herself in the same composer’s “Pirata,” and her splendid performance cooperated with that of Rubini to produce a sensation.  It was observed that she quickly accommodated herself to the usages and style of the Italian stage, and soon appeared as if one “to the manner born.”  Toward the close of the engagement Mme. Devrient appeared for Malibran’s benefit as Desdemona, Rubini being the Moor.  Though the Rossinian music is a genre by itself, and peculiarly dangerous to a singer not trained in its atmosphere and method, the German artist sang it with great skill and finish, and showed certain moments of inspiration in its performance which electrified her hearers.

Mme. Schreder-Devrient’s first appearance in England was under the management of Mr. Monck Mason, who had leased the King’s Theatre in pursuance of a somewhat daring enterprise.  A musical and theatrical enthusiast, and himself a composer, though without any experience in the practical knowledge of management, he projected novel and daring improvements, and aspired to produce opera on the most extensive and complete scale.  He engaged an enormous company—­not only of Italian and German, but of French singers—­and gave performances in all three languages.  Schroeder-Devrient sang in all her favorite operas, and also Desdemona, in Italian.  Donzelli was the Otello, and the performance made a strong impression on the critics, if not on the public.  “We know not,” wrote one, “how to say enough of Mme. Schreder-Devrient without appearing extravagant, and yet the most extravagant eulogy we could pen would not come up to our idea of her excellence.  She is a woman of first-rate genius; her acting skillful, various, impassioned, her singing pure, scientific, and enthusiastic.  Her whole soul is wrapped in her subject, yet she never for a moment oversteps the modesty of nature.”  It was during this season that Mr. Chorley first heard