The difficulties which surrounded the production of "Der Freischütz" and the doubt felt touching its fate seemed to have almost unnerved Weber's friends. He alone had remained undisturbed. For a year his mind had been in a fever of creative activity. The incidental music for the melodrama "Preciosa" had gone to Berlin with the score of "Der Freischütz," and before he left Dresden to produce his opera he had begun to work on the music of "Die drei Pintos," a comic opera for which Theodor Hill had supplied the book. On the eve of the great "Freischütz" day he composed his "Concertstück," which until recent years was the most universally popular of his pianoforte compositions and now is esteemed as only second to the exquisitely graceful, eloquent and romantic "Invitation," which he composed and dedicated to his wife shortly after his marriage.

Weber had begun the hopeless fight against the disease that robbed him of his mother at the age of twenty-six years, before he came to Dresden. He did not possess the physical constitution for a long combat. He was small and narrow-chested. Much of the superhuman energy which marked the last five years of his life was due to the unnatural eagerness of his mind to put forth the whole of his artistic evangel before bodily dissolution should silence the proclamation.

There is no doubt that it was sheer will-power that kept the vital fires burning in his tortured body until the uttermost faggot of fuel which could nourish them was burned to ashes. The picture which Sir Julius Benedict draws of him as he appeared when Sir Julius entered his house to become his pupil in February, 1821, is indescribably pathetic in its simple eloquence: "I found him sitting at his desk and occupied with the pianoforte arrangement of his 'Freischütz.' The dire disease which but too soon was to carry him off had made its mark on his noble features; the projecting cheek-bones, the general emaciation, told their sad tale; but in his clear eyes, too often concealed by spectacles, in his mighty forehead fringed by a few straggling locks, in the sweet expression of his mouth, in the very tone of his weak but melodious voice, there was a magic power which attracted irresistibly all who approached him." The last period of his life, the period in which he went on uninterruptedly from one great achievement to another, strengthening the foundations of the new structure his genius had reared, lifting it higher and extending it in all directions, was for his physical body but a period of torment. His rewards were many, but those which brought the greatest benison of felicity and comfort flowed from his domestic life, or came from without the province of his official labors. Dresden shared the glory which he had won in Berlin and elsewhere, but his masters refused him the honors the rest of the world was glad to give. His king denied him the petty insignias of distinction which no man in the kingdom had so richly earned, yet, though opportunities offered (such as an invitation to become musical director at Hesse Cassel) he refused to change his field of labor, inspired by a desperate determination to conquer the indifference of the Saxon court. "Der Freischütz" had set Germany on fire, but its composer waited a year before he was privileged to produce it in Dresden. Nearly three months before that occurrence he received an invitation to compose an opera for the Kärnthnerthor theatre, in Vienna, under the management of Barbaja. He chose the blue-stocking, Helmina von Chezy, as his collaborator, and began work on "Euryanthe." It was another tremendous stride in the path of progress; but the world did not know it, for now Weber was the forward man leading the way into the hitherto unexplored fields of dramatic music. He went to Vienna in September, 1823, to bring out his new work. Of all the incidents of the memorable visit none is more significant than his meeting with Beethoven. It was a tardy meeting. As lad and youth he had been in Vienna without manifesting the slightest desire to meet the great master. In his self-elected capacity as critic he had attacked the symphonies in E-flat and B-flat. It is not improbable that it was the study of "Fidelio," which he produced at Prague, and afterward at Dresden, that opened his mind to the significant relationship which Beethoven bore to his own efforts to reanimate a national art-spirit in Germany. At any rate when the composer of "Euryanthe" went to Vienna it was as a musician filled with veneration for the composer of "Fidelio," and the reception which he met with at the hands of the great man touched him most profoundly. "We dined together in the happiest mood," Weber wrote to his wife; "the stern, rough man paid me as much attention as if I were a lady he was courting, and served me at table with the most delicate care. How proud I felt to receive all this attention and regard from the great master-spirit; the day will remain forever impressed on my mind and those of all who were present." Beethoven, it is said, promised to attend the first performance of "Euryanthe," which took place on October 25, but did not. He would have heard nothing of the music if he had, but there is a story that after the representation, which was tremendously successful, he wrote to Weber: "I am glad, I am glad! For this is the way the German must get the upper hand of the Italian sing-song." The success of the opera was not lasting, however. It was marred by the dramatic faults of its book, and after Weber's departure its score was horribly disfigured by excisions made by Conradin Kreutzer.

MONUMENT TO WEBER IN DRESDEN.—From a photograph.

Ernst Rietschel, Sculptor.

The vital forces were rapidly leaving Weber's frail body. For nearly a year and a half after the completion of "Euryanthe" he composed nothing except a French romance for voice and pianoforte. Then he marshalled his intellectual and physical forces for a last endeavor. Charles Kemble in 1824, stimulated by the success of "Der Freischütz" in London, commissioned him to compose an opera for Covent Garden. The work was to be in English, and after some correspondence on the subject Weber agreed to compose an opera and produce it in person for an honorarium of £1,000. While the negotiations were in progress he consulted his physician, who told him the acceptance of the commission would bring about his death in a few months, or even weeks, whereas a year's respite from all work in Italy would prolong his life five or six years. The sum offered was large and Weber's mind had been haunted by the apprehension of leaving his wife and children unprovided for. He decided to sacrifice his life for the welfare of his family, and accepted the commission. The decision made, his physical and intellectual lassitude gave way to another fit of energy. The subject agreed on was "Oberon," and Planché was to prepare the book. As a preparation, the dying composer learned English. The first two acts of the book came into his hands on January 18, the third on February 1, 1825. He began at once but suspended it in order to take the waters at Ems during the summer. He resumed work in the fall and completed the overture, which, in the usual manner of composers, he composed last, in London, on April 29, 1826. He had reached the city a week before, having travelled to Calais in his own carriage and made a stop in Paris, where he was cheered by the kind attention of men like Cherubini, Rossini, Onslow and others. No time was wasted in beginning the preparations for the production of "Oberon," nor, indeed, was there any time to waste. He superintended sixteen rehearsals, and conducted the first performance on April 12, 1826. It was his last triumph; "The composer had an even more enthusiastic reception than Rossini two or three years before," says Spitta. Weber conducted twelve performances according to contract, took part in a few concerts, gave one of his own which was a failure financially because of the indifference of the aristocracy, and then in feverish anxiety to see his family again, began preparations for his return journey. On the morning of June 5, 1826, his host, Sir George Smart, found him dead in his bed: "his head resting on his hand as if in sweet slumber; no traces of his suffering could be seen in these noble features. His spirit had fled—home indeed!" His body was buried in Moorfields Chapel on June 21, but eighteen years later, largely through the instrumentality of Richard Wagner, it was brought to Dresden and interred in the family vault with impressive ceremonies. Wagner pronounced the oration at his final resting-place, and thus emphasized the trait in his character which lay at the foundation of his greatest achievement in art: "Never lived a musician more German than thou! No matter where thy genius bore thee, in what far-away unfathomable realm of fancy, always did it remain fastened with a thousand sensitive fibres to the heart of the German people, with which it smiled and wept like an undoubting child listening to the fairy tales of its native land. This ingenuousness it was which led thy manhood's mind like a guardian angel and preserved it chaste; and in this chastity lay thy individuality: preserving this glorious virtue unsullied thou wast lifted above the need of artificial invention. It was enough for thee to feel, for when thou hadst felt then hadst thou already discovered the things which have been from the beginning. And this lofty virtue didst thou preserve even into thy death. Thou couldst not sacrifice it, nor divest thyself of this lovely heritage of thy German lineage; thou couldst not betray us!—Behold, now the Briton does thee justice, the Frenchman admires thee, but only the German can love thee! Thou art his, a lovely day out of his life, a warm drop of his blood, a fragment of his heart—who will blame us for wishing that thy ashes might become a portion of his earth, his precious German earth?"

Fac-simile letter from Weber replying to inquiry concerning his "Jubel Overture" and pianoforte Concerto. Also recommending Naumann's "Pater Noster" as a beautiful work.