In proportion as our own times are neared, any record of recollections becomes more and more difficult. It is obviously impossible freely to characterize new-comers, whose talents may not yet have matured themselves—whose short-comings may still be open to correction : almost as impossible (if ever the rights of privacy are to be solicitously respected) as it would be to put into print the merits and defects of the man, or woman, who had been our neighbour at table yesterday,—Of the artists, who have taken an assured position in England, for better for worse, I have had no hesitation in speaking; but to offer impressions of those whose better or worse days may be still to come, would be an ungracious proceeding, to which (were it found ever so piquant by friend or by foe) no considerate person could resign himself. It is best, therefore, to deal with the performances of this year, and the following one, in some points, less minutely than formerly.

They were varied and miscellaneous, and sufficiently distracting—seeing that during the season 1857–8, four Italian opera houses were open in London: and this at a period when the supply of Italian singers had notoriously slackened—when the art of Italian singing had obviously deteriorated, and when the repertory of opera in Italian had manifestly to be fed from foreign sources.