being so purely feminine, and bearing the universal stamp of genius, exercised the omnipotent sway—­the whole of Copenhagen was in a rapture.”  Jenny Lind was the first singer to whom the Danish students gave a serenade; torches blazed around the hospitable villa where the serenade was given, and she expressed her thanks by again singing some Swedish airs impromptu.  “I saw her hasten into a dark corner and weep for emotion,” says Andersen. “’Yes, yes! said she, ’I will exert myself; I will endeavor; I will be better qualified than I now am when I again come to Copenhagen.’”

“On the stage,” adds Andersen, “she was the great artist who rose above all those around her; at home, in her own chamber, a sensitive young girl with all the humility and piety of a child.  Her appearance in Copenhagen made an epoch in the history of our opera; it showed me art in its sanctity:  I had beheld one of its vestals.”

Jenny Lind was one of the few who regard art as a sacred vocation.  “Speak to her of her art,” says Frederika Bremer, “and you will wonder at the expansion of her mind, and will see her countenance beaming with inspiration.  Converse then with her of God, and of the holiness of religion, and you will see tears in those innocent eyes:  she is great as an artist, but she is still greater in her pure human existence!”

“She loves art with her whole soul,” observes Andersen, “and feels her vocation in it.  A noble, pious disposition like hers can not be spoiled by homage.  On one occasion only did I hear her express her joy in her talent and her self-consciousness.  It was during her last residence in Copenhagen.  Almost every evening she appeared either in the opera or at concerts; every hour was in requisition.  She heard of a society, the object of which was to assist unfortunate children, and to take them out of the hands of their parents, by whom they were misused and compelled either to beg or steal, and to place them in other and better circumstances.  Benevolent people subscribed annually a small sum each for their support; nevertheless, the means for this excellent purpose were very limited.  ‘But have I not still a disengaged evening?’ said she; ’let me give a night’s performance for the benefit of those poor children; but we will have double prices!’ Such a performance was given, and returned large proceeds.  When she was informed of this, and that by this means a number of poor people would be benefited for several years, her countenance beamed, and the tears filled her eyes.  ’It is, however, beautiful,’ she said, ‘that I can sing so.’”

Every effort was made by Jenny Lind’s friends and admirers to keep her in Sweden, but her genius spoke to her with too clamorous and exacting a voice to be pent up in such a provincial field.  There had been some correspondence with Meyerbeer on the subject of her securing a Berlin engagement, and the composer showed his deep interest in the singer by exerting his powerful influence with such good effect that she was soon offered the position of second singer of the Royal Theatre.  Her departure from Stockholm was a most flattering and touching display of the public admiration, for the streets were thronged with thousands of people to bid her godspeed and a quick return.