Few lads can have had such exceptional chances of hearing the amount and variety of music as were mine. Considering the number of works with which I became acquainted–some of them, more's the pity, hardly to be revived again–in Opera alone my schooling was extensive. The singing may not have been of the highest excellence (while it compared favourably with that to be heard on many of the more celebrated operatic stages), but ensemble and orchestra playing were as perfect as the artistic conscience could achieve. Our Fürst had a carriage running on rails which conveyed him each evening directly from the dining-room to his box in the theatre. Fidelio, Don Juan, Zauberflöte, Seraglio, Figaro, Freischütz, Preciosa, Méhul's Joseph (little Benjamin's simple and touching song always made me cry), Dame Blanche, Jean de Paris, Zampa, Masaniello, Le Maçon, Lestocq, Fra Diavolo, and the fine Gustave, ou Le Bal Masqué. La Juive, Robert le Diable, Les Huguenots (I must be one of the few left who have heard its Fifth Act!) and Dinah, William tell and the immortal Barbière. All in German, and none of the finicking nonsense about operas in their own language. << less