Of course I recollect the stir made by the production of Costa's "Eli" in 1855, and especially do I seem to remember Mr. Sims Beeves--then in his primest prime--and his thrilling declamation of the "War Song." At the end of this stirring solo I recall how the voice of the great tenor rang out above the combined power of the full band and chorus. In this connection I may mention that it was at the Festival of 1855 that I heard Mario for the first time. I had of course heard much of the great Italian tenor, but till the year mentioned had never heard the sound of his voice. Curiously enough, too, I heard him sing in juxtaposition with Mr. Sims Reeves. It was, indeed, a little bit of a contest between the two great tenors, and I am bound to say the English singer did not come off second best. The fact is Mario was then past his prime, whilst Mr. Sims Reeves was in his fullest strength. The opportunities for comparison on the occasion referred to were irresistible, since the two tenors sang together in a trio in which they both had to sing the same notes. The result was as I have hinted, but I wondered, however, that comparisons should have been challenged in such a direct way, and I marvelled much that Mario should have submitted to such a trial. It was at the Festival of 1858 that I heard the _great_ Lablache for the first and only time. His appearance excited as much interest, perhaps more, than his singing--he was so very large. His ruddy countenance, his white hair, and his great girth, combined to make him something to see as well as hear. When he sang his notes were as the tones emitted from a sort of human tun. Then, how I remember hearing Adelina Patti at the Festival of 1861. Oh! how the sweet girl singer charmed, indeed fascinated, her audience with her delightfully fresh voice, and by her attractive appearance and winning manner. How fatherly, and even tenderly, Costa seemed to watch over the little maiden, and his usual autocratic manner--for he was an autocrat at the conductor's desk--seemed to soften when he came in contact with the pretty young Italian vocalist. Even the stern unbending general of the orchestra was once so touched with her delightful rendering of an air in one of his oratorios, that he was actually seen to imprint a paternal kiss upon her cheek. It was also at the Festival of 1861 that I remember hearing Giuglini--the "golden-throated Giuglini," as he was called. Was there ever such sweet, luscious tenor voice, or a more charming and graceful style of vocalization? He literally sang like a bird. He opened his mouth and the notes were warbled forth with exquisite volubility and ease. Giuglini's voice had not the power and breadth which Sims Reeves could command, nor was his style so impassioned and fervent as Mario's, but his tones and vocalization were something to hear once and remember always.