Jenny Lind the Artist by Henry Scott Holland

There are artists, in whom their art is so predominant, that, like a despotism, it concentrates all efforts and capacities upon itself. The man is absorbed within his main interest. Through it alone does he find energetic vent. In it he verifies the attributes of genius: he gives evidence of something in him which is surpassingly excellent: but, outside its ring-fence, in all the other departments of life and character, he shows himself as ordinary, and unremarkable as the rest of us. His artistic genius does not flow over, and animate, his other sensibilities, and gifts: it abides in itself: and seems, even, to drain originality out of all rival channels; so that we might think the man commonplace, and dull, until we saw him transfigured and illuminated in the exercise of his own peculiar talent. This is a perfectly possible type of genius: and, because it exists, men are loud in asserting the proverbial disappointment often felt at meeting, in society, some one who has been, through his gift, the inspiration of their lives. In the ordinary affairs with which all are concerned, this glorious hero, this poet, this musician, with whose fame the world is ringing, shows no particular power, has no especial facility, may, indeed, prove himself inferior in judgment and in insight to many a man who prides himself on making no claim to be a genius. More especially, in the field of executive art, involving curious and special facilities of organization, we may expect to come across such surprises as this.

All the more noticeable then is it, that, in the case of Jenny Lind, the surprise is all the other way. There is a universal consent, in all who record her influence, that what they experienced was the effect of a character whose genius penetrated every corner of her being, so that her unique gift of song appeared but as an incidental illustration of the originality which was everywhere in her. Even those who felt her singing most profoundly, felt ever as she sang, that she was more than her singing: while those whose lack of musical perception made them impervious to her special talent, experienced as much as any the full fascination of her personality. This impression of her belongs to her early, as well as to her after, years; and it cannot be better given than in an expressive phrase, used long after our present date, indeed, but which vividly and exactly embodies what was already so characteristic of her. "After all, I would rather hear Jenny talk, than sing, wonderful as that is," writes Mrs. Stanley, the wife of the Bishop of Norwich, to her sister, Mrs. Augustus Hare, in September, 1847, after a rapturous account of what her singing had been. Surely, a most striking remark to make. The phrase exactly embodies the feeling that Jenny Lind was, not less, but more, than her Art. What men saw, and found in her was, not that a common piece of the stuff of human nature had been caught up, by the artistic inspiration, into some unspeakable heaven, and been transfigured by some sudden and strange glory which carried the human spirit beyond itself. No! rather they felt that here was a character of supreme value, of unique excellence, which had contrived to find its way down into the world's scenery, through the particular channel provided for it by song. Music gave it its chief opportunity for discovering itself to men; but it itself stood above the Art which it used as its finest medium of communication. Hence the intensity of spiritual interest, which greeted her singing. Men seemed to themselves not so much to be listening to a voice, as to be catching sight, through the door which music opened, of a high and pure soul, moving down to them, through the pathway of song, out of some far untainted home of purity and joy. It was this soul which they greeted with such amazement, such warmth; it was its felt presence which made the tears start, always, to their eyes as they listened. It was Jenny Lind herself, who, by means of her wonderful gift, was the revelation to them of the heights which it was still open to men to attain.