had hardly ceased lingering in the ears of Europe.  Paris first gathered its musical forces to hear the new singer at the Theatre de la Renaissance, December 15, 1838, eager to compare her with Malibran.  Among other numbers on the concert programme, she gave a very difficult air by Costa, which had been a favorite song of her sister’s, an aria bravura by De Beriot, and the “Cadence du Diable,” imitated from “Tartini’s Dream,” which she accompanied with marvelous skill and delicacy.  She shortly appeared again, and she was supported by Rubini, Lablache, and Ivanhoff.  The Parisian critics recognized the precision, boldness, and brilliancy of her musical style in the most unstinted expressions of praise.  But England was the country selected by her for the theatrical debut toward which her ambition burned—­England, which dearly loved the name of Garcia, so resplendent in the art-career of Mme. Malibran.

Her appearance in the London world was under peculiar conditions, which, while they would enhance the greatness of success, would be almost certainly fatal to anything short of the highest order of ability.  The meteoric luster of Mali-bran’s dazzling career was still fresh in the eyes of the public.  The Italian stage was filled by Mme. Grisi, who, in personal beauty and voice, was held nearly matchless, and had an established hold on the public favor.  Another great singer, Mme. Persiani, reigned through the incomparable finish of her vocalization, and the musical world of London was full of distinguished artists, whose names have stood firm as landmarks in the art.  The new Garcia, who dashed so boldly into the lists, was a young, untried, inexperienced girl, who had never yet appeared in opera.  One can fancy the excitement and curiosity when Pauline stepped before the footlights of the King’s Theatre, May 9, 1839, as Desdemona in “Otello,” which had been the vehicle of Malibran’s first introduction to the English public.  The reminiscence of an eminent critic, who was present, will be interesting.  “Nothing stranger, more incomplete in its completeness, more unspeakably indicating a new and masterful artist can be recorded than that first appearance.  She looked older than her years; her frame (then a mere reed) quivered this way and that; her character dress seemed to puzzle her, and the motion of her hands as much.  Her voice was hardly settled even within its own after conditions; and yet, juaradoxical as it may seem, she was at ease on the stage; because she brought thither instinct for acting, experience of music, knowledge how to sing, and consummate intelligence.  There could be no doubt, with any one who saw that Desdemona on that night, that another great career was begun....  All the Malibran fire, courage, and accomplishment were in it, and (some of us fancied) something more beside.”