A Dictionary of Music and Musicians/Weber, Carl Maria von

by Philipp Spitta

WEBER, Carl Maria Friedrich Ernest, Freiherr von, was one of those musicians in whose family music was long an hereditary gift. As far as we know, there is but one German musician with a musical pedigree longer and more widely spread than Weber's—Sebastian Bach. Like Bach too, Weber touched the highest point in the special branch cultivated by previous generations on both sides. With Bach this was Protestant church music in its noblest form, with Weber, national opera in its most brilliant if not its most perfect development. The earliest known member of the family, Johann Baptist, a man of property in Lower Austria during the latter half of the 16th century, was made Freiherr by the Emperor Ferdinand II in 1622. The family was, and still is, Roman Catholic. We know nothing of Johann Baptist's musical tastes or faculties, but his younger brother, Joseph Franz Xaver, apparently living in Upper Swabia, is said to have been a great amateur of music and the drama. The title of the elder brother was not transmitted till 1738, and of the younger one's descendants, one, Fridolin, was in the service of Freiherr von Schönau-Zella, near Freiburg im Breisgau, in the 18th century, and died in 1754. He was passionately devoted to music sang, and played the violin and organ. Of his two sons, the elder, also a Fridolin (and also a singer and violin player) became the father of Mozart's wife Constance; and, as is well-known, she, and in a still greater degree her sisters, Josepha, Aloysia, and Sophie, were excellent, and almost distinguished singers. Constance's father succeeded his father as manager of the Schönau-Zella estates, and apparently dropped the von, which was not borne by Mozart's wife.

His younger brother, Franz Anton von Weber, born 1734, became the father of Carl Maria, who was thus connected by marriage with Mozart. Franz Anton must have been a violinist of more than common ability, as we find him included, by those qualified to speak, amongst the most distinguished viola players of the time.^[1] He was also a virtuoso on the double-bass. He took military service with the Elector Palatine, Carl Theodore, at Mannheim, on the understanding that he was to assist in the celebrated court band. He fought against Frederic the Great at Rosbach (1756) and was slightly wounded, after which he left the army, and entered the service of the Elector Clement Augustus at Cologne. In 1758 he became Steward to the Prince-Bishop, and Court-Councillor at Steuerwald, near Hildesheim. His devotion to music, which was such that he would even play the violin while walking in the fields with his family, caused him to neglect the duties of his office, and he was deprived of it. From 1768 to 1773 he lived at Hildesheim as an ordinary citizen, and there decided, despite his age and numerous family, on becoming a practical musician. He appears to have started on a tour as a viola-player,^[2] and then settled in Lübeck, where he published 'Lieder mit Melodien fürs Clavier' (1774), compositions apparently not without talent, as they were noticed nine years after.^[3] In 1778 he was musical director of the theatre at Lübeck, and from 1779 to 83 Capellmeister to the Prince- Bishop of Eutin. In 1784 he went to Vienna, made acquaintance with Joseph Haydn, and entrusted to him his two eldest sons, Fritz and Edmund, both of whom showed talent for music [see vol. i. p. 7086.] In 1785 he married again in Vienna, returned to Eutin, and undertook the post of director of the town-band.

At Eutin was born in 1786 the first child of his second marriage, Carl Maria von Weber. His birthday was most likely Dec. 18, but there is no absolute certainty of the fact. The father had always longed to have a child that should turn out a prodigy, such as Mozart had been. All his children, daughters as well as sons, showed talent for music and the stage, and his two eldest sons became really good musicians. Haydn was specially attached to Edmund, and wrote in his album

Fear God, love thy neighbour, and thy
Master Joseph Haydn who loves thee heartily.^[4]
Estoras (sic), May 22, 1783.

But Franz Anton could not disguise from himself that so far none of his children surpassed mediocrity, and he was all the more anxious to discern in Carl Maria talent of a higher order. Inconstant by nature, his character was an odd mixture of vanity and a pretentious vein of comedy with the most brilliant and versatile gifts, forming a most unsatisfactory whole. Such a disposition was little adapted to the training of a gifted child. Carl Maria was early set to learn music, principally under his father, who after all was but an amateur. The talent, so ardently longed for, however, would not appear in the delicate, nervous child. There is a tradition that after taking great pains with him in vain, his elder brother Fritz exclaimed on one occasion, 'Carl, you may become anything else you like, but a musician you never will be.' The father now tried him with the plastic arts, and put him to drawing, painting in oil, pastel, and enengraving. Weber, in his autobiography, says that he followed this with some success,^[5] but the specimens preserved in the family show nothing beyond a certain manual dexterity, with no sign of real talent.

His father had left Eutin in 1787, and was leading a restless life as director of a dramatic troupe mainly consisting of his own grown-up children. During the next few years he is to be found in Vienna, Cassel, Meiningen, Nuremberg, Erlangen, and Augsburg. Bad as the influence of this roving life must have been on the whole, it had its advantages for Carl Maria in the special line to which he was to devote himself, for he may be said to have grown up behind the scenes. From his childhood he was at home in the stage-world as none of the great opera-composers have been—not even Mozart. That instinct for the stage, so obvious in all his dramatic conceptions, and so unfortunately absent in most of our German opera-composers, no doubt sprang from these early impressions. In 1794, the father being at Weimar with his family, Carl Maria's mother Genoveva, then twenty-six, was engaged as a singer at the theatre under Goethe's direction, and appeared, on June 16, as Constanze in Mozart's 'Entführung.' The engagement was however cancelled in September, and Franz Anton left Weimar, to his subsequent regret.^[6] He went, it appears, to Erlangen, and in 1796 to Hildburghausen. There the boy of nine found his first scientific and competent teacher in Heuschkel, an eminent oboist, a solid pianist and organist, and a composer who thoroughly understood his art. An organ-piece by him on the Chorale 'Vom Himmel hoch,' a copy of which is in the writer's possession, shows little fancy, but a complete mastery of the technique of composition. It is impossible to state with certainty the method on which Heuschkel had formed himself as a pianist, but it was probably Emanuel Bach's. He had a gift for teaching, and being still young (born 1773), took a personal interest in his pupil. Carl Maria did not at first like the hard, dry, studies to which his teacher inexorably bound him, but he soon found that he was making progress, and the father at last beheld with astonishment the dawn of that genuine musical talent which he had himself tried in vain to evoke. Weber never forgot what he owed to Heuschkel. In his autobiographical sketch, written in 1818, he says that from him he had received the best possible, indeed the only true, foundation for a style of pianoforte playing, at once powerful, expressive, and full of character, especially the equal cultivation of the two hands. Heuschkel on his part followed with justifiable pride the subsequent triumphs of his pupil, and one of his published compositions is a piece for wind-instruments on themes from Rossini's 'Semiramide,' and Weber's 'Euryanthe' (Schott).

Unfortunately this instruction lasted but a short time, as Franz Anton moved on in the autumn with his company to Salzburg. Here there was a training-school for chorister-boys, similar to St. Stephen's Cantorei in Vienna, in which the brothers, Joseph and Michael Haydn, were educated. Michael Haydn had been in the service of the Archbishop of Salzburg since 1762, first as Concertmeister, and afterwards Cathedral organist also. One of his duties was to teach singing to the choristers, among whom the young Weber soon found a place, speedily exciting the attention of Haydn. He asked him to his house, and set him to play a concerto of Kozeluch's, which he had studied with Heuschkel, and other pieces, including a recitative from Graun's 'Tod Jesu.' The upshot was that after repeated requests from the father he consented to give the boy gratuitous instruction in composition.

Michael Haydn has been somewhat hardly dealt with as a composer. His talent was considerable, and had been thoroughly cultivated, although he had not the genius of his elder brother. As a teacher the mere fact of his age, sixty, put him at too great a distance from his eleven-year-old pupil for anything like the same results as had been obtained with Heuschkel. Still he seems to have been satisfied with six fughettas, composed apparently under his own eye, and the proud father had them printed in score. The dedication, showing evident traces of the father's hand, runs, 'To Herr Edmund von Weber, my beloved brother in Hessen-Cassel. To you as connoisseur, as musician, as teacher, and more than all as brother, these firstfruits of his musical labours are dedicated, in the eleventh year of his age, by your tenderly loving brother, Karl Maria von Weber, Salzburg, Sept. 1, 1798.'^[7] Carl Maria's mother had died on March 13, of consumption, and her death perhaps occasioned a trip to Vienna in April, on which Carl Maria accompanied his father. Here they heard the 'Creation' (April 29 or 30), and probably entered into personal relations with Haydn. Immediately after his return, in the beginning of July at the latest, the father began to talk of leaving Salzburg, for 'one cannot exist under this hierarchy,' and in the autumn they all moved to Munich. As the lessons in composition from Michael Haydn only began in January 1798, they cannot have lasted more than six months. Franz Anton had gradually tired of his stage-managing. 'I have bid good-bye to the good old theatre' he writes,^[8] 'and have returned, though without pay, to my old military life.' This consisted in his adoption of the title of Major, to which he had no sort of right. In Munich Carl Maria had two new teachers, the singer Wallishauser (Italianised into Valesi) and Johann Nepomuck Kalcher, afterwards court-organist. With the latter he made more progress in composition than with Michael Haydn, and always retained a grateful recollection of him. He soon began to play at concerts with success. Under Kalcher's eye he wrote his first opera, 'Die Macht der Liebe und des Weins,' a mass, PF. sonatas, and variations, violin trios, and songs; but the MSS. have all disappeared; apparently he burnt them himself.^[9] One work of this time has survived, a set of variations for PF. (op. 2), dedicated to Kalcher, and specially interesting as lithographed by himself. He had been led to this kind of work by his acquaintance with Aloys Senefelder, the inventor of lithography, in whose shop he frequently occupied himself, even imagining that he had discovered some improvements in the method of mechanical reproduction. Indeed, his interest in lithography became so keen, that for a time he neglected composition. The father, always restless and whimsical, thought of carrying out the new discovery on a large scale, and it was decided to move to Freiberg in Saxony, where the necessary materials were more easily procurable. The plan was carried into effect in 1800, Carl Maria giving concerts on the way with success at Leipzig and other towns in Central Germany. Arrived in Freiberg he speedily lost his interest in lithography, partly owing to an opening which occurred for producing a dramatic work. The large and well-selected company of Ritter von Steinsberg, whom the Webers had met before, had been playing there since the summer. Steinsberg had written an opera-book, 'Das Waldmädchen,' which he handed over to Carl Maria, then just thirteen, and the first performance took place on Nov. 24. Public expectation had been roused to a high pitch by Franz Anton's manœuvres, and seems to have been barely satisfied by the result. Two Freiberg musicians entered into a newspaper correspondence with the composer, whose pen was obviously guided by his father, for the intemperate, impertinent, tone of the letters is wholly unlike anything in Carl Maria's character. The opera succeeded better at Chemnitz (Dec. 5, 1800), and was evidently appreciated in Vienna (Leopoldstadt Theatre, 1805), where it was given eight times during the month of December. It was also performed at Prague, and even in St. Petersburg, but negotiations with Weimar fell through. Carl Maria was quite aware afterwards of the small value of this youthful work. In his autobiographical sketches, he calls it 'a very immature production, not perhaps without occasional marks of invention, the second act of which I wrote in ten days,' adding, 'this was one of the many unfortunate consequences of the marvellous tales of the great masters, which made so great an impression on my juvenile mind, and which I tried to imitate.'

Freiberg in its turn was abandoned, possibly towards the end of 1800, certainly by the beginning of 1801. The last we hear of him there is that he wrote on Dec. 9 to Artaria of Vienna offering him his lithographic invention, the advantages of which were, in his own words, '1. I can engrave music on stone in a manner quite equal to the finest English copper-plate engraving, as the enclosed specimens will show. 2. One workman can complete from two to three plates a day in winter, and from three to four in summer when the days are longer. 3. A plate can be used again, by which I mean entirely erased, over thirty times. 4. Two men can take as many thousand impressions a week as in common printing. 5. One hundred thalers will cover the whole outlay for machinery.' He also offered the Viennese publishers several compositions for strings and for piano. Artaria took no notice of the letter.^[10] After this the father and son seem to have made some stay in Chemnitz, as we have letters from the former there dated April 24, and May 17, 1801. By November they were again in Salzburg, where Carl Maria composed the opera 'Peter Schmoll und seine Nachbarn,' produced in Augsburg (probably in 1803) without any special success. In a letter of Nov. 25, 1801, Carl Maria calls himself a pupil of Michael Haydn, 'and of several other great masters in Munich, Dresden, Prague, and Vienna,' but who these masters were has not been ascertained. As far as Vienna, Prague, and Dresden are concerned, it can refer only to short temporary relations with musicians, as up to this time no stay had been made in any of these places. The passage however is fresh evidence of the continual restlessness in which Weber's youth was passed. In the summer of 1802 he went with his father to North Germany, and in October paid a fortnight's visit to his birthplace. Here he saw much of Johann Heinrich Voss, a fact worthy of note, because of the admirable settings he afterwards composed to some of Voss's poems. On the return journey he composed at Hamburg, also in October, his two first Lieder—'Die Kerze,' by Matthisson, and 'Umsonst,' of which the latter only has been printed. At Coburg, where the court was very musical, he tried to procure a hearing for his two operas, but whether successfully or not cannot be ascertained. More important than the actual musical results of this tour were the theoretical studies on which he embarked during its progress. He collected books on theory, and soon his letters are full of Emmanuel Bach's 'Versuch über die wahre Art das Clavier zu spielen,' of Agricola (apparently his revision of Tosi's 'Introduction to Singing'), of Kirnberger, and others. Thus he began to cultivate independence of thought on matters of art. His newly acquired knowledge of theory was indeed rudely shaken in Augsburg, where he arrived November 1802, and made some stay. Here he formed a close friendship with a certain Dr. Munding, who in all their conversations on art had a disturbing habit of demanding the reason for every rule propounded, which Weber was not at that time competent to give. This however stimulated him to clear up his own views on the fundamental laws of art. The most striking fact about him at this time was the extraordinary activity of his mind in every direction. He took great interest in musical criticism, and in December 1802 was busy with preparations for a musical dictionary. A Salzburg friend, Ignaz Susan, wrote to encourage him in a plan for a musical periodical, and was soon afterwards employed in procuring him materials for a history of music in Vienna, whither he betook himself early in 1803. The most important acquaintance he made on this visit was that of the Abbé Vogler, who was then composing his opera 'Samori.' This gifted, many-sided man, however he may have fallen short of the highest excellence in art, exercised a more stimulating effect than any other artist on Weber, who attached himself to him with all the enthusiasm of youth. 'By Vogler's advice,' he says, 'I gave up—and a great privation it was—working at great subjects, and for nearly two years devoted myself to diligent study of the various works of the great masters, whose method of construction, treatment of ideas, and use of means, we dissected together, while I separately made studies after them, to clear up the different points in my own mind.' Vogler himself put great confidence in his pupil. After Weber's arrival one evening in October 1803, Vogler suddenly ran into the inner room, closed the doors, shut the shutters, and set to work at something with great secrecy. At length he brought out a bundle of music, and after Weber had promised absolute silence, played him the overture, and some other pieces from his new opera. Finally he commissioned him to prepare the PF. score. 'I am now sitting down to it, studying, and enjoying myself like the devil,' Weber writes to Susan.^[11] The relations with Joseph Haydn were also renewed. 'He is always cheerful and lively, likes to talk of his experiences, and particularly enjoys having rising young artists about him. He is the very model of a great man.' These words of Weber's perhaps explain the fact that neither in his letters, which often go into great detail on the state of music in Vienna, nor in his biographical sketch, does he mention Beethoven. That he was personally acquainted with him there is no manner of doubt.^[12] But Beethoven was difficult of access, and his rough ways may have repelled the delicate, refined and graceful youth. That Vogler used underhand means to keep them asunder is probably an unfounded assumption, but a certain irritation against Beethoven clung to Weber for many a year, till it gave way in manhood to an unreserved admiration and hearty veneration. Among other musicians of note in Vienna Weber mentions Hummel, just made Capellmeister to Prince Esterhazy, whom he calls the 'most elegant pianoforte-player in Vienna.' This opinion he modified on hearing him again in Prague in 1816. His precision and his pearly runs he still admired, but thought 'Hummel had not studied the intrinsic nature of the instrument.' Of Weber's own works during this time in Vienna but few exist, and of these few most are connected with Vogler, e.g. the PF. score of 'Samori'; PF. variations on themes from 'Samori,' and 'Castor and Pollux,' another opera of Vogler's.^[13] That he was studying hard is certain, but this was not incompatible with a youthful enjoyment both of life and natural beauty. He became acquainted with a young officer, Johann Baptist Gänsbacher, a musical amateur, also a pupil of Vogler's, and the acquaintance soon ripened into an intimate and life-long friendship. Weber's son and biographer also has something to say of a 'tender connection with a lady of position' in Vienna. Possibly a song, 'Jüngst sass ich am Grab der Trauten allein,' composed immediately after his departure from Vienna, had something to do with this affair. Vogler had recommended him for the post of Capellmeister of the theatre at Breslau, and by May 8, 1804, before he was quite seventeen and a half, the arrangements were concluded. He went first to Salzburg to fetch his old father, and there, in the rooms of his friend Susan, composed the song just mentioned. On June 5 he was in Augsburg, and travelled on the 14th by Karlsbad to Breslau.^[14]

If his biographer is correct in stating that Weber did not enter upon his post at Breslau before November 1804, he must either have been living there for more than three months without occupation, or have been touring about as an artist from June to October. But there is no indication of his having taken either of these courses. The Breslau theatre was kept up by a company chiefly consisting of better-class citizens. The head manager in 1804 was J. G. Rhode, Professor at the Kriegsschule. Previous to Weber's appointment, Carl Ebell had acted as director of music, but he, originally a lawyer, had returned to an official career. The orchestra and chorus were sufficient for ordinary demands. Weber, on this his first entrance on practical life, showed great talent for direction and organisation, though from over-zeal and inexperience he made many mistakes. He had from the first to contend with the prejudices of the managing committee, and with strong opposition in the chief musical circles of the town. The leader of this opposition was Joseph Schnabel, formerly first violinist, and deputy-conductor of the theatre, and appointed Cathedral-organist in 1805. Schnabel left the theatre on Weber's arrival, probably from vexation at not being Capellmeister himself, and, as a man of 37, declining to serve under a lad of 18. The two continued on awkward terms, and some rudenesses of which Weber was guilty towards Schnabel, a respectable and much respected man, did not raise him in the estimation of the better part of the public. Among the managing company he had roused opponents, by insisting on several expensive alterations. Rhode, indeed, was well-disposed towards him, and wrote a libretto, 'Rübezahl,' on which Weber set to work at Breslau.

In spite of Rhode, however, a regular breach ensued in the spring of 1806, and Weber's resignation was accepted. With the best intentions he had done little to raise the state of music in Breslau; but the years spent there were of great importance to his own development. Not only was his great gift for conducting first made apparent to himself and others, but it was chiefly at Breslau that the original and gifted pianist and composer, whom his contemporaries admired, and posterity venerates, was formed. Although somewhat isolated socially, his gifts and his amiable disposition attracted round him a small circle of musical people. Carl Ebell was one of the number, but his closest friends were F. W. Berner and J. W. Klingohr, both little older than himself, and both admired pianists, Berner being also chief organist of the church of St. Elizabeth, a talented composer, and in a certain sense, a pupil of Vogler's. The three young men formed a close bond, and endeavoured to make their intimacy mutually profitable. Klingohr's strong points were sweetness, correctness, and grace; Berner's, power, and depth of thought; Weber excelled in brilliancy, fascination, and unexpectedness. In genius he far surpassed the others, but Berner had had the solid training which he lacked. All three exercised themselves diligently in extempore playing, then justly considered the highest qualification for a good pianoforte-player and organist. In this branch also Weber proved the most gifted; in spite of risky harmonies, and even awkward counterpoint, detected by critical hearers, he carried all before him by the charm of his melodies, and the originality of his whole musical nature. He had also acquired considerable skill on the guitar, on which he would accompany his own mellow voice in songs, mostly of a humorous character, with inimitable effect. This talent was often of great use to him in society, and he composed many Lieder with guitar accompaniment. His fine voice, however, he nearly lost in Breslau. One day, in the early part of 1806, he had invited Berner to spend the evening with him, and play over the newly-completed overture to 'Rübezahl,' but on Berner's arrival he found his friend insensible on the floor. Wanting a glass of wine he had taken by mistake some nitric acid, used by his father for experiments in etching. He was with difficulty restored to consciousness, when it was found that the vocal organs were impaired, and the inside of the mouth and air-passages seriously injured. He recovered after a long illness, but his singing-voice remained weak, and even his speaking-voice never regained its full power. Beyond a few numbers of 'Rübezahl,' Weber composed little in Breslau. An 'Overtura Chinesa,' lost in its original form, was re-modelled in 1809 as the overture to 'Turandot.'

After his withdrawal from the theatre he remained at Breslau without any regular employment, living on the hard-earned proceeds of music-lessons. Having his father to provide for, and encumbered with debts accumulated while he was endeavouring to live a somewhat fast life on a salary of 600 thalers a year (about £90), he found himself hard pressed, and determined to try a concert-tour. One of his pupils, Fräulein von Belonde, was lady-in-waiting to the wife of Duke Eugene of Wirtemberg, then living at Schloss Carlsruhe in Silesia, where he kept up a great deal of music. The lady's influence procured for Weber the title of Musik-Intendant, which would, it was hoped, be a help to him on his tour, but that prospect having been destroyed by the war, the Duke invited Weber to Schloss Carlsrühe. Here he found not only a refuge for himself, his father, and an aunt, but a most desirable atmosphere for the cultivation of his art. He took up his abode there about midsummer, and though the Duke was summoned to the army in September, the war was expected to be so soon over that at first no change was made in the peaceful life at the Castle. In these few months Weber wrote a considerable number of instrumental pieces, chiefly for the excellent artists who composed the small chapel of the Duke. To January 1807 belong two orchestral symphonies (his only ones, both in C major^[15]), and these had been preceded by some variations for viola and orchestra (Dec. 19), and a small concerto for horn and orchestra (Nov. 6, 1806). Possibly, too, the well-known variations on Bianchi's 'Vien qua, Dorina bella' belong to the last few weeks at Carlsruhe.^[16] This happy time came to an end in February 1807, after Napoleon's decisive victory over the Prussians, when the state of universal insecurity made it necessary to dismiss the band. But the Duke, with true nobility of mind, showed himself anxious to provide for his musicians, and through his intervention Weber was installed as private secretary at Stuttgart to Duke Ludwig, brother to Duke Eugene, and to the king (Frederic) of Wirtemberg. As things were, he could not hesitate to accept a post which promised him, even at the cost of a temporary exile from his art, a certain income, doubly necessary now that he had his father to provide for. As he was not required at Stuttgart till September 1, he made use of the interval after his departure from Carlsruhe on February 23, for a concert-tour. The war made concerts a matter of great difficulty, but, after several vain attempts, he succeeded at Anspach, Nuremberg, Bayreuth, and Erlangen. He then turned in the direction of Stuttgart, where he arrived July 17, and entered on his new post August 1.

Duke Ludwig was a frivolous man of pleasure, who habitually spent more than his income, and did not scruple to resort to underhand and desperate expedients to extricate himself from his embarassments. The corruption of morals at the dissipated court of Stuttgart was terrible, and Weber's position was a dangerous one from many points of view. His duties were to manage the Duke's private correspondence, keep his accounts, furnish him, sometimes by most unpleasant means, with money to satisfy or put off his numerous creditors—all things for which Weber was too ignorant and inexperienced, and which formed a ruinous exhibition of dissolute life for so young a man. His natural tendency to dissipation and gaiety was fostered by this immoral life, all the more because his title of Freiherr at once gained him admittance to the circles of the corrupt young nobility. Thus involved he lost sight of his own proper life-object—music, or like a mere dilettante, treated his art as an amusement. He had besides, great social gifts, and was always a welcome guest. He ran great risk of giving up all serious effort, and yet it was indispensable to him, on account of his irregular and defective training. It is not to be wondered at that a sterling artist like Spohr, who knew him in Stuttgart, should have formed a low, or wholly unfavourable, impression of his artistic powers. It was only genius of a high order, and a conscientious nature such as his was at bottom, that enabled him to raise himself at last to his present lofty position.

Stuttgart abounded in opportunities for improving his general cultivation, and procuring fresh nutriment for his active and receptive mind. He made acquaintance with the principal authors, artists, and scientific men of the place. Hauy and Reinbeck, Dannecker and Hötsch, J. C. Schwab, Spittler, and Lehr, all enjoyed intercourse with so agreeable a youth. Lehr, the court-librarian, opened to him the treasures of the royal collection of books, among which Weber's preference was for philosophical works. He read Wolf, Kant, and Schelling, with attention and profit, and formed on them his own modes of thinking and expressing himself.

His great gift for music naturally became known, and Duke Ludwig made him music-master to his children. The Capellmeister of the opera (from 1807) was Franz Danzi, a melodious composer, an excellent cellist, and sociable, though of regular life. Though twenty-three years older than Weber, he speedily formed an intimacy with him, and tried to exercise a calming and restraining influence over him, while both by precept and example he was of great service to him in his art. His friendship with Danzi brought Weber into connection with the company of the Stuttgart court-theatre, a circumstance which, while it stimulated him to fresh dramatic production, involved him in the loose life of a Bohemian set. A violent reciprocal attachment for the singer Margarethe Lang^[17] led him into all sorts of follies, causing him to neglect cultivated and intellectual society, and ruining him financially. Another personage of importance in his artistic career was Franz Carl Hiemer, the dramatic author. Both he and Weber belonged to a society of lively young men, who called themselves 'Faust's Höllenfahrt.' Each member assumed a special name; the president, a Dr. Kellin, was 'Dr. Faust,' Hiemer 'Reimwol,' Weber 'Krautsalat,' and Danzi, who had been persuaded to join, 'Rapunzel.' Among Weber's papers was found a comic musical epistle, 'from Krautsalat to Rapunzel,'^[18] which gives a striking picture of his irrepressible spirits in such society. Hiemer had had some previous success as a librettist, and undertook to write a romantico-comic opera for him. 'Das Waldmädchen' was the subject chosen, and Hiemer seems to have adhered pretty closely to Steinsberg's book, which Weber had set in Freiberg. The new work, 'Silvana' by name, seems to have made slow progress amid the distractions of Weber's life. It was begun, as far as can be ascertained, on July 18, 1808, and finished Feb. 23, 1810.^[19]

Through Danzi's intervention the opera was accepted for the court-theatre, and was about to be put into rehearsal, when an incident, to be related shortly, ruined all. Whilst busy with his opera, Weber composed, what under the circumstances must be considered a large number of other works—a strong proof of the increasing force of his productive power. The most important was 'Der erste Ton,' a poem by Rochlitz, for declamation, with orchestra and concluding chorus. He remodelled the overture to 'Peter Schmoll,' and published it as a separate work; also the 'Overtura Chinesa,' which was made to serve as the introduction to 'Turandot,' a play by Gozzi and Schiller, for which he also wrote six short incidental pieces. Of PF. music, by far the most important piece is the Polonaise in E♭, op. 21, completed June 4, 1808, at Ludwigsburg, and dedicated to Margarethe Lang. With her too are connected the 'Variations on an original theme,' op. 9; the clever 'Momento capriccioso,' op. 12, and the charming 'Six pièces pour le pianoforte à quatre mains' (Nov. 27, 1809). His solitary PF. quartet (in B♭)^[20] was also of this period, as well as the 'Variations for PF. and violin on a Norwegian theme,' an 'Andante and Rondo Ungarese' for viola and orchestra, not published in this form, a Potpourri for cello and orchestra, and thirteen Lieder with accompaniment, several of which are of perfect beauty.

King Frederic lived on bad terms with his brother, Duke Ludwig, whose frivolity and extravagance were specially irritating, as the king had several times had to extricate him from his embarrassments for the sake of the family honour. His displeasure also descended on the Duke's secretary, who generally had the unpleasant task of informing the king of his brother's difficulties. On these occasions the King would load the unfortunate Weber with most unkingly abuse. This roused Weber's bold and haughty spirit, and led him to revenge himself by various little spiteful tricks. On leaving the Cabinet in a great rage after one of these violent scenes, he met an old woman in the corridor who asked him for the laundress's room; 'There,' said Weber, pointing to the door of the king's apartments, 'the royal laundress lives in there,' and went off. The woman went in, and, being angrily received by the king, stammered out that a young gentleman who had just left the room had directed her there. Enraged at this affront, the king ordered him into arrest, but he was begged off by the Duke, and nothing more was done at the time. That the king did not forget his audacity he learnt afterwards to his cost.

As Duke Ludwig's financial position became worse, he was driven to still more questionable expedients. The king having made a decree by which the only persons exempt from military service were the members of the royal household, these appointments were much sought after, and many parents were willing to pay a considerable sum for the reversion of one. It was observed that about this time there was a sudden accession to the Duke's household of young noblemen who bore official titles without any corresponding duties. Just then Weber had been endeavouring to obtain a loan from one of his acquaintances, in order to discharge a debt of his father's, who had been living with him since 1809. On the gentleman's refusal a former servant of his offered Weber to procure it for a consideration, and then assured his late employer that the Secretary, if obliged in the matter of the loan, would secure his son an appointment in the Duke's household. On this understanding the loan was effected; but when no appointment ensued, and the son was drawn for a soldier, the father in his indignation made the affair known. The king had long been dissatisfied with the state of his brother's household, and believing Weber to be the real culprit, determined to make an example of him. The preparations for 'Silvana' were in progress, and Weber was at the theatre, when, on the evening of Feb. 9, 1810, he was arrested and thrown into prison. An enquiry ensued, and Weber's innocence, of which indeed all Stuttgart had been convinced, was completely established; but the king, on Feb. 26, sentenced him and his father to perpetual banishment from Würtemberg. This hard stroke of fate might be looked upon as a punishment for so many frivolous years, and for sins committed against the guiding genius of his art; and it was in this light that Weber took it. Henceforth his youthful follies were laid aside, and he settled down conscientiously and perseveringly to the life of an artist in earnest pursuit after his ideal. 'From this time forward,' he said, eight years afterwards, 'I can count pretty tolerably on having settled matters with myself; and all that time has since done or can do for me, is to rub off corners, and add clearness and comprehensibility to the principles then firmly established.'

Danzi, a real friend in need, gave him introductions to Mannheim, where Peter Ritter was Capellmeister, and Gottfried Weber, afterwards so well-known as a musical theoretician, Conductor of the society called the 'Museum.' Received in a kindly spirit by all, in Gottfried Weber he found a friend for life. Under his auspices concerts were at once arranged for March 9 and April 3, and at these the 'Erster Ton' was produced for the first time, the words being declaimed by the actor Esslair. His first symphony too was a great success, as well as his pianoforte-playing. On a trip to Heidelberg he made the acquaintance of Alexander von Dusch, a brother-in-law of Gottfried Weber, and a cello-player of great taste, who after finishing his studies at Easter, 1810, came to settle in Mannheim. The three friends spent a few happy weeks in lively intellectual intercourse, and in April Weber moved to Darmstadt, where Vogler had been living since 1807. Here he met his friends Gänsbacher and Meyerbeer from Berlin. Weber did not return to the old relations of master and pupil with Vogler, but sought to profit by intercourse with him. His respect for him was undiminished, though he could no longer agree with all that he practised and taught, and was quite aware of the weaknesses of his character. 'May I succeed in placing before the world a clear idea of his rare psychological development, to his honour, and the instruction of young artists!' Weber had the intention of writing a life of Vogler as far back as 1810, and the words just quoted show that he still retained the idea in 1818, though it was never carried out. This was a pity, for his representation of Vogler might perhaps have altered the universally unfavourable verdict of later times. [See Vogler; vol. iv. p. 324, etc.]

On June 21, 1810, Weber undertook a small literary work at Vogler's instigation. Vogler had remodelled some of the Chorales in Breitkopf's second edition (1784 to 86) of J. S. Bach's Chorales, published under Emmanuel Bach's supervision, honestly thinking that Bach was open to great improvement on the score of beauty and correctness. He now begged his former pupil to write a commentary on his revisions, and publish them for the benefit of students. That Weber embarked on the work^[21] with any amount of eagerness there is no evidence to show; probably not, his mind being entirely practical and by no means pedagogic. As a matter of fact the analyses were done very perfunctorily, nor were they all his own, for Chorale VII. was done by Gottfried Weber, and part of Chorale IX. and all Chorale X. by Vogler himself.^[22] Weber felt his unfitness for the task, and so expressed himself in the introduction. If any part of it interested him it was the comparison of Vogler's supposed systematic and philosophical methods with Bach's mode of proceeding by instinct. He had been long seeking for something on which to ground a system; a fact for which there is a very simple explanation in the uncertainty of his musical instincts, particularly as regards the sequence of harmonies, an ununcertainty arising from his desultory early training, and never wholly overcome. That he considered Vogler's alterations improvements is not surprising; for his acquaintance with Bach, like his knowledge of history in general, was small; and he knew as little as Vogler did of the original intention of the Chorales in question.

Weber's attraction towards literary work, of which traces may be seen as far back as 1802, was very marked about this time. He came forward frequently as an author between 1809 and 1818, after that at longer intervals, and not at all after 1821. In Stuttgart he began a musical novel, 'Tonkünstlers Leben,' which had been accepted by Cotta of Tübingen, and was to have been ready by Easter 1811; but the time went by, and it was never finished. A fragment published in the 'Morgenblatt' for Dec. 1809, contains some severe remarks on Beethoven's 3rd and 4th Symphonies. Mozart was Weber's ideal musician, and at that time he was quite impervious to Beethoven's music. Nägeli of Zurich having pointed out a subtle resemblance between Weber and Beethoven (which really is observable, in the Momento Capriccioso for instance, and still more in his later works), Weber wrote to him from Mannheim, 'Flattering as this might appear to many, it is not agreeable to me. In the first place, I detest everything in the shape of imitation; and in the second, my ideas are so opposite to Beethoven's that I cannot imagine it possible we should ever meet. His fervid, almost incredible, inventive powers, are accompanied by so much confusion in the arrangement of his ideas, that his early works alone interest me; the later ones are to me a bewildering chaos, an obscure straining after novelty, lit up it is true by divine flashes of genius, which only serve to show how great he might be if he would but curb his riotous imagination. I, of course, cannot lay claim to the genius of Beethoven; all I hope is … that each separate stroke of mine tells.'^[23] This passage, which well bears printing, shows that Weber by no means overappreciated himself, but was anxious to guard his own independence, and uttered his opinions in a straightforward manner.—He began now to appear more frequently as a critic. All criticism on himself he paid great attention to, and was fully convinced of the value of good musical censure, so he set to work with his friends to elevate the art in general. Towards the close of 1810, he, Gottfried Weber, Alexander von Dusch, and Meyerbeer, founded the so-called 'Harmonischer Verein,' with the general object of furthering the cause of art, and the particular one of extending thorough and impartial criticism. The regularly constituted members were required to be both composers and literary men, but writers were admitted, if possessed of sufficient musical knowledge. The motto of the society was 'the elevation of musical criticism by musicians themselves,' a sound principle which, then promulgated for the first time in musical Germany, has shown itself full of vitality down to the present day. In this branch Weber was the direct precursor of Schumann. He and Gottfried Weber also considered the foundation of a musical journal, and though the plan was never carried out, it was long before Weber gave it up. He was still occupied with it even during the Dresden period of his life. Other members of the society were Gänsbacher, Berger the singer, Danzi, and Berner. The existence of the society was a secret, and each member adopted a nom de plume. Weber signed himself Melos; Gottfried Weber, Giusto; Gänsbacher, Triole, etc. Here, again, we are reminded of Schumann and the 'Davidsbündler.' The two Webers were active in their exertions, and their efforts were undeniably successful.

Vogler was proud of his disciples, especially of Weber and Meyerbeer. 'Oh,' he is said to have exclaimed, 'how sorry I should have been, if I had had to leave the world before I formed those two. There is within me a something which I have never been able to call forth, but those two will do it.' Weber however found existence at Darmstadt hard after the pleasant never-to-be-forgotten days at Mannheim. He got away as often as he could, gave concerts at Aschaffenburg, Mannheim, Carlsruhe, and Frankfort, and found time also to compose. Ideas flowed in upon him, many to be used only in much later works. For instance, the ideas of the first chorus of fairies, and of the ballet-music in the third act of 'Oberon,' and the chief subject of the 'Invitation à la Valse' were in his mind at this period. While on the look-out for a subject for an opera he and Dusch hit upon 'Der Freischütz,' a story by Apel, then just published, and Dusch set to work to turn it into a libretto. For the present however it did not get beyond the beginning; not till seven years later did Weber begin the work which made his reputation. He succeeded in bringing out 'Silvana' at Frankfort on Sept. 16, 1810,^[24] when, in spite of unpropitious circumstances, it produced a very favourable impression. The part of Silvana was taken by Caroline Brandt, Weber's future wife; and Margarethe Lang was the first soprano. Having completed by Oct. 17 six easy sonatas for piano and violin, for which André had given him a commission, Weber soon after set out for Offenbach, but had the mortification of having them refused, on the ground that they were too good for André's purpose.^[25] At André's he saw for the first time an autograph of Mozart's, and his behaviour on the occasion touchingly expressed his unbounded veneration for Mozart's genius. He laid it carefully on the table, and on bended knees pressed his forehead and lips to it, gazed at it with tears in his eyes, and then handed it back with the words, 'Happy the paper on which his hand has rested!'

For a short time there seemed a prospect of Weber's securing a permanent appointment in his beloved Mannheim. At a concert there on Nov. 19, he produced his remodelled overture to 'Peter Schmoll,' and played for the first time his PF. Concerto in C, completed on Oct. 4. Among the audience was Princess Stephanie of Baden, whose father, the Crown-Prince Ludwig of Bavaria, Weber had met a few months before at Baden-Baden. The Prince had been delighted with him, and had walked about with him all night, while he sang serenades to his guitar. The Princess also was anxious to hear him in this capacity, and after the concert he sang her a number of his best songs to the guitar, making so great an impression that she promised to procure him the post of Capellmeister in Mannheim, or make him an allowance of 1000 gulden from her privy purse. All this however ended in nothing, for a few weeks later he received a message from the Princess to say that she found her promise had been made too hastily.

The cause of Weber's so soon giving up the 'Freischütz,' which Dusch was to prepare for him, was that he had been busy for some time with a new opera, or rather comic Singspiel, in one act, called 'Abu Hassan,' the libretto of which Franz Hiemer sent him, March 29, 1810, from Stuttgart. He composed one number, the Creditors' chorus, at Mannheim, Aug. 11, left it untouched till Nov. 1, and completed it at Darmstadt, Jan. 12, 1811. By Vogler's advice the work was dedicated to the Grand Duke Ludwig, who, although an enthusiastic devotee and connoisseur of music (he used to conduct the rehearsals at the opera himself) had hitherto declined to have much to do with Weber, possibly because the latter had not shown sufficient deference to his authority on matters of art. Now he seemed much more kindly disposed, sent a handsome fee for the score, and gave permission for a concert at the Schloss (Feb. 6, 1811), himself taking 120 tickets. For it Weber composed an Italian duet for two altos (Mesdames Mangold and Schönberger) and small orchestra, with clarinet oblipato, played by Heinrich Barmann of Munich. The duet pleased greatly, and was encored, but all this success did not end in a permanent appointment, as Weber had at one time hoped would be the case. Meyerbeer had left on Feb. 12 for a tour; outside the court the inhabitants had little feeling for music; Weber did not care to be left wholly to Vogler; and on Feb. 14 he finally left a place where he had never felt thoroughly at home, and started on a grand concert-tour.

At this period he often felt sorely the restless, uncertain conditions of his life, the inconstant nature of all human relations, and the loneliness to which he seemed doomed by the sudden snatching away of friends as soon as he became attached to them. During his last visit but one to Mannheim, he composed a song called 'Weber's Abschied'^[26] (Dec. 8, 1810) to words by Dusch. Some of the verses may be thus paraphrased:—

Upon the stormy sea, away,
Tempest-tossed I'm driven,
No home where I can safely stay,
No rest, to me is given.

Wherever kindly hearts I find,
There would I gladly dwell,
And all my woes of heart and mind
Kind fate might thus dispel.

Full many a loyal-hearted friend,
Now here, now there, I've won,
Th' impatient Hours our converse end,
And bear me on and on.

At Darmstadt on the night of January 12, 1811, he wrote down more connectedly some of the thoughts which surged through his mind. His childhood came up before him, and his life, so full of disappointments, and so near failure. 'My path in life,' says he, 'was cast from my birth in different lines to that of any other human being; I have no happy childish days to look back upon, no free open boyhood; though still a youth I am an old man in experience, learning everything through my own feelings and by myself, nothing by means of others.'^[27] To Gänsbacher he writes a few months later, 'You live in the midst of your own people, I stand alone; think then how much a word from you refreshes and revives me.' His elastic temperament however soon recovered itself, as the smallest piece of good fortune was enough to feed his hopes, and the consciousness that he had at last laid firm hold of Art—his own proper aim in life—was a constant encouragement. Nothing could distract him from this, nor from the continuous endeavour to work out his moral education. The touching tone of piety and trust which runs through his later life is now first noticeable. He closes the year 1810 with the following avowal: 'God has sent me many vexations and disappointments, but He has also thrown me with many good kind people, who have made life worth living. I can say honestly and in all quietness, that within the last ten months I have become a better man.'

Weber travelled through Frankfort to Giessen, where he gave a well-attended concert on Feb. 18, and Hanau, where he saw a 'bad play' on the 23rd; went next day to Aschaffenburg, where he stayed two days, and made acquaintance with Sterkel, an adherent of Vogler's; and by March 3 was at Würzburg. Thence he went to Bamberg, where he met E. T. A. Hoffmann, and Bader the tenor, both of whom reappear in the Freischütz period; and by Nuremberg and Augsburg to Munich, arriving March 14. Here he stayed nearly five months, finding powerful stimulus in the society of Bärmann, the greatest clarinet-player of his time, for whom he wrote within the next few months no less than three concertos. The first, in C minor and E♭,^[28] was played at his first concert (April 5) as well as his PF. Concerto, one of his symphonies, and the 'Erster Ton.' Bärmann played the second,^[29] in F minor, at a concert given by Kaufmann the pianoforte-maker of Dresden (June 13), and again at Weber's second (Aug. 7). These compositions procured him warm adherents, not only among the general public, but also in the Munich orchestra, celebrated for its haughty reserve. One of the band having spoken slightingly of the F minor Concerto at rehearsal as an 'amateur work' the rest fell upon him, and would have turned him bodily out of the orchestra if Weber had not interposed. There was also a successful performance of 'Abu Hassan' on June 4, and during the preparations Weber learned that it was to be given before the court at Ludwigsburg in the beginning of May, but not under his name. 'Is not that miserable?' he writes to Gottfried Weber, 'and how stupid! all the papers will announce it as mine. Item, God's will be done.' On August 9 he started for a tour in Switzerland, during which he gave himself up to the enjoyment of nature rather than of music. By the beginning of November he was again in Munich, and gave a brilliantly successful concert on the 11th. For it he had composed a new concert-rondo, which he afterwards used for the finale to the Clarinet-concerto in E♭,^[30] and remodelled the overture to 'Rübezahl,' a piece of work which he declared to be the clearest and most powerful of anything he had yet done. Besides these he composed some vocal pieces, chiefly for his patroness Queen Caroline, and a complete Bassoon-concerto (op. 75) for Brandt, the court-player. On Dec. 1 he started again, this time in company with Bärmann, for Central and North Germany.

In Prague he met Gänsbacher, then living there, formed some ties which became of importance when he settled there later, composed variations for PF. and clarinet on a theme from 'Silvana' (op. 33), and gave with Bärmann a largely attended concert on Dec. 21. Passing through Dresden they arrived, Dec. 27, at Leipzig, where Weber met Rochlitz and other musical authors, and fostered his own inclination for literary work. Indeed, so strong was this that he seriously thought of staying in Leipzig and devoting himself exclusively to literature. His ideas, however, soon took a different turn. The Crown Prince Ludwig of Bavaria, on whom he had evidently made a deep impression, had written about him to Duke Emil Leopold August of Saxe Gotha, and the result was an invitation for himself and Bärmann to Gotha, where they arrived Jan. 17, 1812. The Duke was devoted to the arts, a poet and composer, but whimsical and given to extremes—in fact a Jean-Paul kind of man, and a great admirer of Jean-Paul's works. Intercourse with him was exciting but very wearing, as Weber discovered, although just now it was only for a short time that he enjoyed the privilege of almost uninterrupted access to him. The Duke took great pleasure in his society, but, having at the time many claims on his time, invited Weber to return in the autumn and make a longer stay. In Gotha Weber met Spohr, who since 1805 had been Concertmeister—the court had then no opera—and had married in 1806 Dorette Scheidler, a harpist, and daughter of Madame Scheidler, the court-singer. Spohr had not retained a very favourable impression of Weber's music at Stuttgart, but received him in true brotherly fashion. On Jan. 20 they passed some pleasant hours together at Spohr's house, and on the 24th played before the court Weber's variations on a Norwegian theme (op. 22), on which Weber remarks in his diary 'Spohr played gloriously.' From Gotha the two musicians went to Weimar, were kindly received at court, and gave a concert. If Weber had been hoping for inspiration from Weimar's great poets, his only chance was with Wieland, for Goethe behaved coldly, or rather took no notice at all of him. His diary contains an entry 'Jan. 29. Early to the Princess. [Maria Paulowna.] Goethe there and spoke. I did not like him.' Spohr indeed had met with scarcely better treatment some little time before, but this may have arisen from Goethe's lack of interest in music. Weber he was personally prejudiced against, possibly because of former circumstances about his father and his family, and the feeling was fostered by Zelter. Indeed Weber never succeeded in approaching Goethe.

By the beginning of February Weber and Bärmann were in Dresden, but left it with no very favourable impression; indeed, they are reported to have said, 'Dresden shall not catch us again'—very contrary to the fact, as far as Weber was concerned. On Feb. 20 they arrived in Berlin, where Weber had hopes of producing 'Silvana.' It had been tried through some months before by Righini, but 'went so confusedly that all pronounced it perfect rubbish.'^[31] He had thus to meet a prejudice against his work, and, still worse, a personal one of the Capellmeister's against himself. Bernhard Anselm Weber especially, an able arid cultivated man, and himself a pupil of Vogler's, was by no means kindly disposed to his young comrade; but difficulties were gradually overcome, two arias were added, and the performance took place on July 10. Weber conducted in person, and succeeded in inspiring both band and singers, and the public gave the work a warm reception, in spite of its startling novelty. Weber had been much depressed by some sharp criticism of Herr von Drieberg's, and had rigidly tested his work, so he was much encouraged by its success. He writes in his diary, 'While duly acknowledging my faults. I will not in future lose confidence in myself, but bravely, prudently, and watchfully march onwards on my art-career.' Even before this he had made many friends in Berlin, and the two concerts given by himself and Bärmann, though not well-attended, had roused great interest. He was introduced to the 'Singakademie' and the 'Liedertafel,' and wrote for the latter a composition which even gained the approval of Zelter.^[32] Meyerbeer's parents from the first treated him as a son, and he stayed in their house the whole time he was in Berlin. His most valuable acquaintance was Lichtenstein, Professor of Zoology, who was the first to recognise his genius in Berlin. As one of the foremost members of the Singakademie he had no difficulty in introducing Weber to cultivated and musical families, where he soon became a favourite for his pleasant manners, his admirable pianoforte-playing and extemporising, his inspiriting way of leading concerted music, and above all his charming songs and his guitar. For these private circles he composed five charming part-songs. He used often to play to his new friends, with an almost inexhaustible variety of nuances, his Sonata in C, composed in Berlin. He himself taught (on Aug. 26) the soldiers at the barracks near the Oranienburg gate, to sing his 'Kriegs-Eid,' a chorus for men's voices with wind instruments in unison, which lie dedicated to the Brandenburg Brigade. While he was in Berlin his old father died at Mannheim (April 16, 1812), an event which brought back in full force his homelessness and loneliness, and made him touchingly grateful for any proof of friendship. Bärmann had left him on March 28 for Munich, and on Aug. 31 he himself also left Berlin, stayed some few days in Leipzig, where he found a publisher for some of his compositions, and had a talk with Rochlitz, and then, passing through Weimar, arrived on Sept. 6 at Gotha.

The Duke's treatment was politeness itself, but instead of having, as he hoped, a quiet time for composition, Weber found the constant attendance on the Duke's inspired moments exciting and exhausting. In the midst of this he received an invitation from the Princess Maria Paulowna, to come to Weimar, and teach her some of his works, including the Sonata in C, which he had dedicated to her. On this subject he writes to Lichtenstein (Nov. 1), 'The Princess often says that she does not believe she will ever play the sonata properly as long as she lives. If she were not a Princess, I should be at liberty to tell her that I fully agree with her.' He had to give her a lesson each morning for a week, and the rest of his time he spent with the company at the theatre, among whom P. A. Wolf specially attracted him, and with Wieland, who was a sympathetic listener to his playing. One of the effects which Weber carried to a pitch of excellence never heard before, was a long crescendo, beginning with an almost inaudible pianissimo, and passing through every gradation of loudness up to a thundering fortissimo. The effect of this was irresistible, and Wieland, having asked for it, found himself gradually drawn off his chair as by some demoniacal agency. In Gotha he had much stimulating intercourse with Spohr, and also with Albert Methfessel, then passing through. His diary contains some interesting remarks on Spohr's compositions. Thus the evening of Sept. 16 was passed in going with Spohr through the latter's 'Last Judgment' (produced at Erfurt, Aug. 15). Weber did not much like the work, and calls it laboured, tedious, full of unnecessary modulations, and modelled entirely after Mozart.' On Sept. 27, however, he writes, 'Spohr played his new Quartet in G minor very finely; it is well-composed; much flow and unity. Afterwards a fine Sonata with his wife.' At Spohr's he also met Hermstadt, the clarinet-player from Sondershausen, who played a Concerto of Spohr's in masterly style, but seems to have been inferior to Bärmann in purity of tone and expression. As a rule, the quick-witted, far-seeing Weber was juster towards Spohr's compositions than the more ponderous and short-sighted Spohr was to his. But personal dislikes never lasted with Spohr. He could distinguish between a man and his work, and was always a loyal friend to Weber.

The Duke's younger brother, Prince Friedrich, an admirer of Italian music, had brought a singing-master back with him from Italy, and often had Weber to go through Italian operas with him. He had a good tenor voice, and for him Weber composed an Italian scena ed aria, with chorus, from an opera 'Ines de Castro,' performed at a court-concert on Dec. 17. Other works written at Gotha were the celebrated PF. Variations on a theme from Méhul's 'Joseph,' the first two movements of the PF. Concerto in E♭, and a hymn, 'In seiner Ordnung schafft der Herr,' to Rochlitz's words. Spohr having recently started on a concert-tour, Weber left Gotha, on Dec. 19, for Leipzig, where he produced this hymn at a Gewandhaus Concert (Jan. 1, 1813), and played the E♭ Concerto, 'with a success,' he writes himself, 'such as was perhaps scarcely ever known in Leipzig before. It is pronounced to be the first of Concertos for effect and novelty. Truly these people, once so cold, have quite adopted me.' Thus the new year opened to him under happy auspices.

This year, 1813, was the greatest turning-point in Weber's short career. Hitherto his life had been that of a wandering minstrel or troubadour. Roving restlessly from place to place, winning all hearts by his sweet, insinuating, lively melodies, his eccentricities making him an imposing figure to the young of both sexes, and an annoyance to the old, exciting the attention of everybody, and then suddenly disappearing, his person uniting in the most seductive manner aristocratic bearing and tone with indolent dissipation, his moods alternating between uproarious spirits and deep depression—in all ways he resembled a figure from some romantic poem, wholly unlike anything seen before in the history of German art. In talking of Weber, people have in their minds, as a rule, only the last period of his life, beginning with 'Der Freischütz,' and ending with 'Oberon,' but from that point of view the work becomes too prominent, and the man of too little importance. As a man his versatile gifts made more effect in the first half of his artistic career than in the second. His artistic wanderings gave the keynote to the ideal life of Germany at that period, and for the first time rounded it off, so to speak, into a full chord. The love of the antique, whether in history, the life of the people, or national melody, was then newly awakened, and gave its stamp to the period, not only in knowledge and matters of art, but in manners, individual and social. Thus Weber became the embodiment of the ancient troubadour who, in Eichendorff's words, went through the country, singing his melodies from house to house.

In 1813 this roving life came to an end, and was succeeded by a settled existence, with ties of place and circumstance, and definite duties. The wandering impulse was indeed too ingrained in his nature not to have a secret influence on his after life, but henceforth it was sufficiently under control to admit of that collectedness of spirit, without which the creation of great and enduring works of art is impossible. On Jan. 12, 1813, Weber arrived at Prague, intending to go on by Vienna to Venice, Milan, and the rest of Italy, and then back through Switzerland and France. This tour he calculated to take fully two years, and from it he hoped for great results. At Prague, however, there was a vacancy in the Capellmeistership of the theatre, owing to Wenzel Müller's resignation. Liebich, the director, knew Weber's value, and offered him the post, with a salary of 2000 gulden (about £200), a furlough of two or three months, an annual benefit guaranteed at 1000 gulden, and absolute independence at the Opera. This gave him not only a fixed income, but the prospect of paying off the debts contracted at Breslau and Stuttgart, a decisive consideration to a man of his honourable nature. The grand tour, planned with so much expectation, was given up, and Liebich's offer accepted.

Wenzel Müller, admirably adapted for the lower forms of national opera, was not the man to be at the head of an institution whose main object was to foster dramatic music of a higher order. Under his direction the Opera had deteriorated to such a degree that Liebich determined to disband the company and entirely reorganise it. For this task he selected Weber. Presenting himself afresh to the public of Prague at a brilliantly-attended concert on March 6, he started for Vienna on the 27th, furnished with full powers to engage good musicians and German singers.^[33] In Vienna he met Meyerbeer, heard Hummel and Moscheles, whose playing he thought 'fine, but too smooth,' and gave a concert of his own on April 25, but was principally occupied with the main object of his journey. The whole company, with the exception of three members, was new, and included Caroline Brandt, Weber's future wife. He entirely reorganised the whole system, and developed a marvellous capacity for that kind of work. It now became evident that it was not in vain that he had passed his childhood behind the scenes, and been an Opera-Capellmeister at 18. His wide experience and energy helped him to conquer the singers and musicians, who were at first amazed by his strictness and the inflexibility of his rules. Among them were a number of Bohemians, and in order to be able to grumble at him with impunity, they talked to each other at rehearsal in Bohemian. This Weber soon perceived, and set to work to learn the language, which in a few months he had mastered sufficiently for his purpose. Not only did he manage, arrange, and direct the music even to the smallest details, but he also superintended the administration, the scene-painting, and the stage-management, and proved to demonstration that all these were really within his province. So completely were all theatrical details at his fingers'-ends, that on the prompter's sudden illness, Weber supplied his place. By this means he ensured an accuracy and a unity in all the dramatic representations, such as had never been seen before, and which the public did not fail to recognise. He was perhaps quite as great a conductor as a composer, and was the first of the great German musicians whose talent was conspicuous in this direction. In this matter also he was a virtuoso. The first opera he put on the stage at Prague was Spontini's 'Cortez' (Sept. 10, 1813), then produced for the first time there. Between that date and Dec. 19 followed seven, and between that and March 27, ten, newly-studied operas and singspiele. Of each he made a scenario, including the smallest details.

His aim was to reinstate the Prague opera in the position it occupied between 1780 and 1790, when it could almost have competed with Vienna, and was at any rate among the best in Germany. He was quite the man to do it, if only the times had been the same; but unfortunately this was not the case. During the war, society ceased to cultivate music, and lost its powers of discrimination, and the only way of keeping up its traditional reputation for taste was to maintain a dignified reserve on all artistic productions. Weber, accustomed to more sympathy, soon discovered this, and it put him out of tune. Besides, he had not managed to form comfortable relations for himself. Gänsbacher had left, and Weber, to whom a friend was an absolute necessity, felt deserted. With the Prague musicians Kotzeluch, Dionys Weber, Tomaschek,^[34] and others, he did not hit it off. For a time he struggled in vain against an attachment for a ballet-girl, who was quite unworthy of his affection. The real cause of his discomfort, however, was that he could not at once fall into the regular ways of professional life. He was like a bird, which had once flown freely in the open air, but was now caged. Passages in his letters make this clear. 'My incessant occupation, and my life of utter solitude, have made me morose, gloomy, and misanthropical. If Heaven does not soon thrust me violently back among my fellow-men, I shall become the most abominable Philistine on the face of the earth' (Jan. 29, 1814). 'The few composers and scholars who live here groan for the most part under a yoke, which has reduced them to slavery, and taken away the spirit which distinguishes the true free-born artist' (May 5). The outward advantages of his position he fully acknowledged. 'I reason myself by main force into a sort of contentment, but the naturally cheerful state of mind which steels all one's nerves, and sends one's spirits bubbling up of themselves, that one cannot give oneself' (April 22).

After bringing out seven more operas between April 19 and June 26 (1814), Weber, who had been out of health for some time, went on July 8 to take the baths at Liebwerda. But the impulse to join the great world was too strong to allow him to stay there, and, pushing on, he arrived in Berlin on Aug. 3, a couple of days before the King of Prussia's return from the Allied Armies' victorious expedition to Paris after the battle of Leipzig. Unlike Prague, where a few official ceremonies formed all the notice taken of the great victory over Napoleon, Berlin was in a tumult of joy, and Weber had before him the spectacle of a great people hailing their reconquered freedom with transport. He was carried away like the rest, and thoroughly enjoyed it. To increase his happiness he met with an enthusiastic reception from his friends, whose circle now included Tieck and Brentano, with whom he had formed an intimacy in Prague in 1813. Brentano began to arrange a libretto on the Tannhäuser legend for him, but other things intervened, and the work was laid aside. He gave a concert on Aug. 24, and received permission to invite the King, the Crown-Prince, and other princes and princesses. Several great personages were interested in him, and there was some talk of making him Capellmeister of the Court Opera, in place of Himmel, who had just died. 'Silvana' was given again on Sept. 5, and Weber left Berlin, happy in many a proof of heartfelt sympathy, and loaded with impressions destined to bear fruit later on.

At that period patriotic songs were naturally enough the order of the day, and in this direction Weber could hardly fail to be led. An invitation from the Duke took him to Gotha on Sept. 11, and the next day to Gräfentonna, the Duke's hunting-seat. Here, finding a little repose for the first time for many months, he composed on the 13th two Lieder from Körner's 'Leyer und Schwert,' followed by eight others during the journey home and in the first few months after his return. Six of these are for four men's voices, and four for a single voice and PF., and in them he has recorded the impressions made on his mind by the surging national movement. It was his first opportunity of showing how great a power he had of absorbing the feelings of the masses and giving them artistic expression. The effect of these songs on the whole people of Germany, and especially on the youth, was extraordinary. Wherever they were sung they roused the most fervid enthusiasm. All the other patriotic compositions, in which the time abounded, paled before the brilliancy, swing, and pathos of these Songs of War and Fatherland. Weber's own cantata even yields to them in effect. The choruses from the 'Leyer und Schwert' are still among the most favourite of such works for men's voices, and are indeed so bound up with the development of the male choral societies in Germany that only with them can they cease to be heard.

Before his trip to Berlin Weber had entered into closer relations with Caroline Brandt, but there were difficulties in the way of marriage. Caroline, a talented soubrette, and a good deal spoiled by the public, was somewhat whimsical, and had imperfect views both as to the dignity of art in itself, and Weber's importance as an artist. Neither did she like his requiring her to leave the stage before they married. This uncertainty about an object he so ardently desired added to his discontent with Prague, and made him anxiously look out for some opening which should lead to his removal. In the meantime he made use of his summer holiday in 1815 for an expedition to Munich, and it was there that the news of the battle of Waterloo reached him. The outburst of joy and enthusiasm which followed incited him to a great composition in honour of the event. Gottfried Wohlbrück the actor provided him with the words, and in August, before leaving Munich, he wrote the first two numbers of 'Kampf und Sieg.' The last two days of his stay were embittered by a letter from Caroline, conveying her conviction that they had better part. This seems to justify what Weber had written to Gänsbacher, 'I see now that her views of high art are not above the usual pitiful standard namely, that art is but a means of procuring soup, meat, and shirts.' Her 'conviction' however did not last long. When Weber returned to Prague her real affection for him overcame all scruples, and he was able to look forward with confidence to a time when she should be all his own. 'Lina,' he writes,^[35] 'is behaving extremely well, and honestly trying to become better. If God will only bestow on me some post without cares, and with a salary on which a man can live; and if she is as brave in a year and a day as she is at this moment, she is to leave the stage, and become my faithful Hausfrau. You shake your head! A year is a long time, and a person who can hold out so long is really brave.' The cantata was quickly completed, and performed for the first time at Weber's benefit concert (Dec. 22). The immediate effect was very great, though, for reasons hereafter to be explained, not so lasting as that of the Körner songs. Beethoven had composed one of his great orchestral pictures in honour of the battle of Vittoria, and this had been performed shortly before in Prague. At the close of 'Kampf und Sieg,' General Nostiz went up to Weber and said 'With you I hear nations speaking, with Beethoven only big boys playing with rattles.' This criticism, though too severe on Beethoven, has in it elements of justice, for in this pièce d'occasion Weber has in truth outdone his great contemporary.

With the completion of his cantata Weber decided to give up his post at Prague. The main object of his labours, the reorganisation of the opera on a solid basis, was accomplished. To produce first-rate results, and make it one of the chief institutions for promoting German dramatic art, was out of the question under the circumstances in which he was placed, and with the means at his disposal. But he thought that it could be maintained at its then state of efficiency without his aid; and as Prague had nothing to offer for himself and the furtherance of his own artistic life he resigned his post on Sept. 30, 1816. Projects of a grand tour or a summons to some other great art-institution again floated through his mind. He had been again in Berlin during the summer, and had produced his cantata on the anniversary of Waterloo with such success that it was repeated on the 23rd June. Count Brühl, Iffland's successor as Intendant of the court-theatres, was devoted to both Weber and his music, and tried, though vainly, to procure him the appointment of Capellmeister vice Himmel. The post was occupied provisionally by Bernhard Romberg, and not even a title from the Prussian court could be had for Weber. On his return journey to Prague he made the acquaintance at Carlsbad of Count Vitzthum, Marshal to the Saxon Court, and he opened to him a prospect of an invitation to Dresden. After a formal farewell to Prague he accompanied his fiancée to Berlin on a star-engagement, and remained there for the rest of the year busily engaged in composition. The PF. sonatas in A♭ and D minor, the grand duo for PF. and clarinet, and several charming songs with PF. accompaniment, belong to this time. On Dec. 21, just before starting on a tournée to Hamburg and Copenhagen, he received the news that the King of Saxony had appointed him Capellmeister of the German opera at Dresden.

Weber's work at Dresden, which was to last for nine years and terminate only with his premature death, is of the highest importance. Not only did he there bestow on his countrymen those works which, with Mozart's, form the main basis of German national opera, but he founded an institution for the performance of German opera at one of the most musically distinguished courts of Germany, which did not possess one before. In all the other courts where music was cultivated German opera had for long stood on an equal footing with Italian. Vienna, Berlin, Munich, Mannheim, and other places, had had a national opera by the end of the 18th century, and in most cases the rise of the German opera had put an end to the separate existence of its rival. In Dresden alone matters were different. From the beginning of the 18th century, when Italian opera had reached a perfection scarcely to be surpassed even in Italy, it had there reigned supreme, and by 1765 had even ceased to belong exclusively to the court. Towards the end of the century, German Singspiele were occasionally performed in Dresden, but only by second-rate actors, at a small theatre in the so-called Linkesche Bad, the Court Capellmeister being expressly prohibited from taking part in the performance. After King Friedrich August's return from the war in 1815 his Intendant Count Heinrich Vitzthum induced him to found a German opera, though only as an addition to the Italian, and it was this institution which Weber was called on to organise. Such a work naturally could not be carried out without violent opposition from the Italians, who had hitherto had it all their own way in Dresden, with the court and nobility almost exclusively on their side. The post of Capellmeister had been filled since 1811 by a born Italian named Francesco Morlacchi, a talented, but imperfectly trained musician, and a clever man with a taste for intrigue. Weber had hardly entered on his new office before he discovered that powerful foes were actively though secretly engaged against him. In accepting the post he had made it a sine qua non that he and his institution should be ranked on terms of perfect equality with Morlacchi and his, and had expressly stipulated for the title of Capellmeister, which was held by the other. These conditions were agreed to, and yet when the appointment was gazetted he found himself styled 'Musikdirector,' a title which, according to general usage, made him subordinate to Morlacchi. Weber at once stated with decision that he must decline the post. He however allowed himself to be persuaded, for the sake of the object, to fill the office provisionally, until either a substitute had been engaged in his place, or he himself had been formally pronounced Capellmeister. By Feb. 10, 1817, he had the satisfaction of learning that the king had given way. His salary (1500 thalers, = about £220) had been from the first on an equality with Morlacchi's, and on Sept. 13 the appointment was confirmed for life. In Dresden he had a first-rate orchestra and a tolerable body of singers at his disposal, and found ample opportunity for turning his knowledge and experience to account.

German opera having generally had spoken dialogue, often forming a large proportion of the work, a custom had arisen of filling the parts with actors who could sing. The style was not a very perfect one, the profession of an actor being so wearing for the voice, and hence small parts alone were fit for these singing actors. Of such materials Weber's company at first exclusively consisted. He was indeed allowed, with special permission, to make use of the members of the Italian opera, but this availed him little, because the Italians could rarely speak German, and were unfamiliar with German music. As for the chorus it was at first non-existent. A few supers with voices, and two or three subordinate solo-singers, constituted the basses and tenors, while the sopranos and altos were supplied by schoolboys, as was once the custom at all German theatres. With such materials it needed all Weber's gifts of organisation and direction to produce results which might bear comparison with the far better appointed Italian theatre, and keep alive, or rather kindle, an interest in German opera among cultivated people.

The way in which he set about his task made it clear that musical life in Dresden now possessed a man of power, who would keep steadfastly in view the success of his undertaking, without concerning himself as to whether he were breaking with old traditions, abolishing old and convenient usages, or even giving personal offence. He knew that in order to prosper, German opera must command the sympathy of the German people. The Court, he was also aware, took but a languid interest in it, while the aristocracy considered foreign music more distingué, and had as a body no community of feeling with the people. For this reason his first step, a very startling one to Dresden society, was to publish in the 'Abendzeitung,' a literary paper with a large circulation, an article addressed to the 'Amateurs of Dresden,' laying down the conditions necessary to his undertaking. Modestly bespeaking the indulgence of the public for the first attempts of a new institution, and frankly owning that real excellence would only be attained after many failures, the whole article shows how clearly he perceived the goal at which he was aiming, and how energetically he directed his course towards it from the very first. 'The Italians and the French,' he says, 'have fashioned for themselves a distinct form of opera, with a framework which allows them to move with ease and freedom. Not so the Germans. Eager in the pursuit of knowledge, and constantly yearning after progress, they endeavour to appropriate anything which they see to be good in others. But they take it all so much more seriously. With the rest of the world the gratification of the senses is the main object; the German wants a work of art complete in itself, with each part rounded off and compacted into a perfect whole. For him, therefore, a fine ensemble is the prime necessity.' It had been so much the habit hitherto in Dresden for society to look to the Court, and mould its tastes in accordance with those set in fashion from above, that it was almost an impossibility for a Court official to talk about his work as if he were in any sense personally responsible for it, or wished to be considered the head of his own institution. People were aware that Weber had been leading a free and restless life as an independent artist; and that his songs of war and liberty had endeared him to the heart of young Germany. Hence he was set down as a revolutionary spirit aiming at dangerous political innovations; though as a fact he was no politician, and never went beyond the general interest natural to a cultivated man in forms of government, social conditions, and the universal rights of man. Another of his actions which excited remark was the giving a very gay dinner and ball to his staff, himself the life and soul of the party. 'How could he expect to keep up the respect of his subordinates, if he began by treating them in this way?' His singers and actors were indeed very much surprised by his strictness and punctuality in all business matters. At first this aroused much dissatisfaction, but when it was found that he could make an opera go in all its parts, that at rehearsal his ears and eyes were everywhere at once, that he was as familiar with the details of acting, dressing, and scenery as he was with the music, and master of all the ins and outs of the opera as a whole, then a higher ideal gradually dawned upon the company, and an immense respect for their new director. The first opera he produced was Méhul's 'Joseph' (Jan. 13, 1817). As had been his successful habit in Prague, he published two days beforehand in the 'Abendzeitung,' an article giving some information about the new opera. The performance was excellent; indeed, all that could be desired, as far as the ensemble went, though the solo-singers were but indifferent. The engagement of competent leading artists was his next care. Here he acted upon the principle that German opera was not to be confined to native works only, but should also produce Italian and French operas. To this end a numerous, well-trained, and thoroughly cultivated body of artists was requisite, and he felt it necessary to engage at least three leading sopranos, one first-rate tenor, and one first-rate bass. His Intendant sent him in March, 1817, on a mission to Prague, with the view of engaging Frln. Grünbaum, then singing at the theatre there. On the 28th he conducted his 'Silvana,' and was enthusiastically received, the people of Prague taking every means of showing how much they felt his loss. Immediately after his return he went to Leipzig, and played his Concerto in E♭ at a Gewandhaus concert, his scena from 'Atalia' and his 'Kampf und Sieg' being also in the programme. Grünbaum sang in Dresden, but was not engaged; various other stars were unsuccessful, and the year 1817 came to a close without any real acquisition having been made. However, Weber had secured a regular chorus and chorusmaster, the post being filled first by Metzner, and then towards the close of 1819 by Johannes Micksch. The latter had studied in Italy, and was considered a first-rate teacher of singing; his principal object, however, was not so much expression as the production of a full and even tone, which occasioned some differences of opinion between him and Weber. On the whole, however, he proved an excellent teacher, and was duly appreciated. A third reform undertaken by Weber in the early part of 1818 was the re-arrangement of the orchestra. The band had been hitherto placed in the same manner as at the Italian opera, but this disposition he wished to alter for one more suited to the component parts of a modern orchestra, and to the greater importance assigned to the instrumental part of an opera. The change was at first strongly opposed, and he was obliged for the time to desist by the King's express command. Bit by bit, however, he made the changes he wanted, and his new arrangement having proved itself perfect, was permanently maintained.

Weber's work in Dresden very nearly came to an end in a few months' time, for on June 27, 1817, a Capellmeistership in Berlin fell vacant, and Count Brühl the Intendant at once entered into negotiations with him on the subject. It was an appointment he was strongly inclined to accept. Berlin had many attractions for him, and so far society in Dresden had done little to make his residence there agreeable. The burning of the Berlin theatre on July 31, however, put a stop to the negotiations, and though several times renewed, nothing came of them. One result at any rate was that his appointment at Dresden was made for life, and that he was also admitted to a share in the direction of the musical services at the Catholic Chapel Royal. He conducted for the first time Sept. 24, 1817, the music being a Salve Regina by Schuster and a litany by Naumann, for whose church music Weber had a great admiration. It is an evidence of his devout turn of mind that before this his first official participation in divine service he confessed and received the Communion. Now that he was often called on to compose for Court festivities, the duties of his post became varied and extensive, and absorbed much time. His colleague Morlacchi had frequent leave of absence, and passed long periods of time in Italy (e.g. from Sept. 1817 to June 1818), and then all his work fell upon Weber. A man loving freedom from restraint as he did, would have found it very hard to carry on his work with the cheerfulness and elasticity of spirit so remarkable in him, if he had not had a constant spring of happiness and refreshment in married life. His union with Caroline Brandt took place at Prague Nov. 4, 1817. On their wedding tour the young couple gave concerts at Darmstadt and Giessen, appeared in Gotha before the Duke, and then went home to Dresden, which they reached Dec. 20.

To the early years of his work in Dresden belong most of Weber's compositions d'occasion. His sincere devotion to the royal family made him hail opportunities of showing his loyalty, so that several of these works were undertaken of his own motion, and did not always meet with proper acknowledgment. The fullest year in this respect was that of 1818, the 50th anniversary of the King's accession. Besides two or three smaller works, Weber composed a grand Mass in E♭ for the King's name-day, and for the accession-day (Sept. 20) a grand Jubel-cantata, which the King did not allow to be performed, so he added the well-known Jubel-overture. The Mass in G may also be counted as belonging to this year, since it was finished on Jan. 4, 1819, for the golden wedding of the King and Queen. These official duties were not despatched perfunctorily, or as mere obligations. Into each he put his full strength, though well aware, as he wrote to Gänsbacher (Aug. 24, 1818), 'that they were but creatures of a day in the world of art, and from their ephemeral nature always disheartening.' Shortly after the performance of the Mass in G he was asked to write a festival opera for the marriage of Prince Friedrich August. He took up the idea with great earnestness, chose for his subject the tale of Alcindor in the Arabian Nights, and had already begun to think out the music, when he found (June 28) that his commission had been withdrawn, and Morlacchi requested to prepare an Italian piece for the ceremony (Oct. 9). Had 'Alcindor' been written, Weber and Spontini might have been directly rivals, for Spontini's opera of that name, composed a few years later at Berlin, is drawn from the same source. Perhaps also the work on which Weber's world-wide fame rests, and which was to give him a triumph over Spontini, might have taken another form, or never have been written at all. He had already been at work on it for two years. Soon after his removal to Dresden he became intimate with Friedrich Kind, who, after throwing up his employment as an advocate in Leipzig, had been living in Dresden solely by literature. Weber having proposed to him to write a libretto, Kind heartily assented, and the two agreed on Apel's novel of 'Der Freischütz,' which came out in 1810 and had excited Weber's attention. Kind wrote the play in seven days; on Feb. 21, 1817, he and Weber sketched the plan together, and by March 1 the complete libretto was in Weber's hands. The composition did not proceed with equal celerity; on the contrary, Weber took longer over this than over any other of his operas. Bit by bit, and with many interruptions, it advanced to completion. The sketch of the first number—the duet between Agathe and Aennchen, with which the second act begins—was written July 2 and 3, 1817. Nothing more was done that year, except the sketch of the terzet and chorus in the 1st Act ('O, diese Sonne') and Agathe's grand air in the 2nd (Aug. 6 to 25). In 1818 he only worked at the opera on three days (April 17, 21, and 22) On March 13, 1819, he wrote the sketch of Caspar's air in D minor, which ends the 1st Act. Then follows another six months' pause, after which he set to work continuously on Sept. 17, and the last number, the overture, was completed on May 13, 1820. The Court compositions of 1818 may have hindered his progress in that year, but in the summer of 1819, without any pressure from without, solely following the bent of his own genius, he wrote several of his finest PF. compositions for 2 and 4 hands, including the Rondo in E♭, op. 62, the 'Aufforderung zum Tanze,' op. 65, and the Polacca brillante in E, op. 72. The PF. Trio also, and many charming Lieder belong to this summer, which Weber passed, like those of 1822, 1823, and 1824, in a little country place, Hosterwitz, near Pillnitz.^[36] By the time Der Freischütz was at last finished, his delight in dramatic production had reached such a pitch that he at once began and completed another dramatic work, and started at any rate on a third. Count Brühl, Intendant of the Berlin theatres, had asked him for some new music to Wolff's play of 'Preciosa,' Eberwein's not being satisfactory. Weber did as he was requested, and wrote the music—'a heavy piece of work and an important one, more than half an opera,' as he says himself—between May 25 and July 15, 1820. In the meantime he was working at a comic opera, 'Die drei Pintos,' the libretto by Theodor Hell, a Dresden poet, whose real name was Karl Winkler. This work was still progressing in the following year.

Count Brühl, who had a great esteem for Weber, informed him in the summer of 1819 that it was his intention to produce 'Der Freischütz' at the opening of the new theatre, then in course of erection by Schinkel. The building was to have been finished in the spring of 1820, but was not ready till a year later. Weber had intended to take the opportunity of his visit to Berlin for making a professional tour, but it did not seem advisable to postpone this for so long. For the last two years he had been out of health, and disquieting symptoms of the malady which brought his life to a premature close had begun to show themselves. Relaxation and refreshment were urgently necessary. He also wished, after this interval of ten years, to appear again in public as a pianist. He started with his wife July 25, 1820, went first to Leipzig, to his intimate friend Rochlitz, then on to Halle. His settings of Korner's 'Leyer und Schwert' had made Weber the darling composer of the German student, as he discovered at Halle. The greatest enthusiasm prevailed at the concert he gave there, July 31. Among the students with whom he formed relations was J. G. Löwe, afterwards the greatest of German ballad-composers, who took the whole arrangements for the concert off his hands.^[37] Still more enthusiastic was his reception by the students of Göttingen, where he arrived August 11, and gave a concert Aug. 17. After it he was serenaded by the students, who sang his Lied 'Lützow's wilder Jagd' and, on his coming down to talk with them, crowded round him cheering. Thence they went by Hanover to Bremen, Oldenburg, and Hamburg, where he left his wife, going on to Lübeck, Eutin (his birthplace, which he had not visited since 1802), and Kiel, from whence he crossed over to Copenhagen. This was the most brilliant point of his journey. He was presented to the King and Queen, played at court on Oct. 4, and at a public concert Oct. 8, overwhelmed with applause on both occasions. After another concert at Hamburg on his way back, he reached Dresden Nov. 4.

As a great pianist Weber was often asked to give lessons, and did so. Pupils in the higher sense of the word, that is to say artists stamped with his own sign-manual as a composer or pianist, he had none. For this his artistic disposition was too peculiar, his character too restless and unmethodical. We find a pupil named Freytag from Berlin studying the piano and composition with him in Prague in 1816, and are told that he made his début at a concert of Weber's (March 29), to his master's satisfaction, but we never hear of him again from that day forwards.^[38] Marschner communicated with him in 1818, sending him his opera 'Heinrich IV. und D'Aubigne' from Pressburg, and coming himself Aug. 18, 1819. Weber was much interested in the opera, and secured its performance at Dresden, where it was given for the first time, July 19, 1820.^[39] Marschner settled in Dresden in the beginning of August 1821, and in 1824 was appointed Musikdirector of the opera, a post he retained till Weber's death. The two maintained an intercourse which at times was animated, though Weber never found Marschner a congenial companion. Marschner was undoubtedly strongly influenced by Weber's music; it is evident in all his compositions during his stay in Dresden, and also in his opera 'Der Vampyr.' And yet he cannot be called a pupil of Weber's. When he settled in Dresden he was 26, and a formed musician, so that after passing through the Weber-period he recovered his independence in the 'Templer und Jüdin' and 'Hans Heiling.' Weber's most devoted and only real pupil was Jules Benedict of Stuttgart. He came to Weber in February, 1821, and his account of their first interview is so charming that we venture to transcribe it. 'I shall never forget the impression of my first meeting with him. Ascending the by no means easy staircase which led to his modest home, on the third storey of a house in the old marketplace, 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 own tale; but in his clear blue 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. He received me with the utmost kindness, and, though overwhelmed with double duties during Morlacchi's absence, found time to give me daily lessons for a considerable period.'^[40] Benedict goes on to relate how Weber played him Freischütz and Preciosa, works then unknown to the world, and what a fascinating effect both he and his compositions made on him; but what impressed him even more was his 'rendering of Beethoven's sonatas, with a fire and precision and a thorough entering into the spirit of the composer, which would have given the mighty Ludwig the best proof of Weber's reverence and admiration for his genius.'

Benedict was fortunate enough to share the brightest and most triumphant bit of Weber's short life with him. After 'Preciosa' had been played for the first time with Weber's music (March 14, 1821) at the Berlin opera-house, and very well received, the day drew near for the opening of the new theatre, in which 'Der Freischütz' was to be the first opera performed.^[41] Weber had been invited to rehearse and conduct the opera himself, and for this purpose arrived in Berlin May 4. Benedict followed two or three weeks later.

Spontini was at that time the ruling spirit in operatic matters at Berlin. The King was a great admirer of his music, and he had many adherents among the court and in society. In the rest of the world, however, opinions were mingled. During the war a strong feeling of nationality had developed in Germany, and there was a prejudice against foreigners, especially against foreigners hailing from Paris. Hence that a Franco-Italian should be installed, on terms of unusual liberality, in the chief musical post in the capital of the state which had done and suffered most in the War of Liberation, gave great umbrage. There is no question that Spontini, apart from his blunders, was made a scape-goat, and that the dislike of the people of Berlin was as much due to political and social as to musical reasons. At first, his merits as a composer received general acknowledgement. His operas, produced with the utmost care, and at a lavish expenditure, were not only performances of dazzling splendour, but of genuine artistic value, as even those prejudiced against him were obliged to admit. Germany had nothing to set against such grandiose works. Since Mozart's 'Zauberflöte' (1791) only one opera of the first rank—Beethoven's 'Fidelio' (1805)—had appeared there. On the other hand, the German stage had appropriated the best that was to be found in Italy and France, and apparently there was no likelihood of any change, or of anybody's coming to the front and eclipsing Spontini.

All at once Weber stepped on the scene with his new opera. We can quite understand how ardently the patriots of Berlin must have longed for a brilliant success, if only as a counterpoise to Spontini. Obviously, too, it was impossible to prevent a certain anxiety lest Weber was not man enough to sustain with honour this conflict with the foreigner. He was known as a gifted composer of songs and instrumental music, but his earlier operas had not been undisputed successes, and for the last ten years he had done nothing at all in that line. On all these grounds the first performance of Der Freischütz was looked forward to with a widespread feeling of suspense and excitement.

Weber thus could not but feel that much was at stake, both for himself and for the cause of German art. As if to point the contrast still more forcibly between himself and Spontini, between native and foreign art, Spontini's 'Olympie,' entirely remodelled by the composer after its production in Paris, had been given for the first time in Berlin (May 14) only a month before Der Freischütz, with a success which, though not enduring, was enormous at the time. Weber's friends were full of dismay, fearing that Freischütz would not have a chance; Weber alone, as if with a true presentiment of the event, was always in good spirits. The rehearsals began on May 21, and the performance was fixed for June 18, a day hailed by Weber as of good omen, from its being that of the battle of Waterloo. So entirely was he free from anxiety, that he employed his scanty leisure in composing one of his finest instrumental works, the Concertstück in F minor, finishing it on the morning of the day on which Der Freischütz was produced. Benedict relates how he was sitting with Weber's wife when the composer came in and played them the piece just finished, making remarks as he went, and what an indelible impression it made on him. 'He was certainly one of the greatest pianists who ever lived,' he adds.^[42]

Weber's presentiment did not fail him. The 18th of June was as great a day of triumph as ever fell to the lot of a musician. The applause of a house filled to the very last seat was such as had never been heard before, in Germany at any rate. That this magnificent homage was no outcome of party-spirit was shown by the enduring nature of the success, and by the fact that it was the same wherever Der Freischütz was heard. In Berlin the 50th performance took place Dec. 28, 1822, the 100th, Dec. 26, 1826, the 300th, March 10, 1858, and the 500th, during the past year (1884). No sooner had it been produced in Berlin, than it was seized upon by nearly all the principal theatres in Germany. In Vienna it was given on Oct. 3, and, though to a certain extent mutilated and curtailed, was received with almost greater enthusiasm than in Berlin. The feeling reached its height when Weber, on a visit to Vienna, conducted the performance in person, March 7, 1822. There is an entry in his diary 'Conducted the Freischütz for Schröder's benefit. Greater enthusiasm there cannot be, and I tremble to think of the future, for it is scarcely possible to rise higher than this.^[43] To God alone the praise!'

Weber thought it desirable to appear in public at a concert before leaving Berlin. The second representation of Der Freischütz took place on the 20th, and the third on the 22nd, of June. On the 25th he held his concert in the hall of the new theatre, and played his Concertstück, completed that day week, for the first time in public. Others of his compositions heard on the same occasion were the Italian scena from 'Atalia,' and the Variations for PF. and violin on a Norwegian theme. His colleague in the latter piece was the eccentric violinist Alexandre Boucher, who, having asked permission to introduce a cadence of his own in the finale of the variations, improvised on themes from 'Der Freischütz' but wandered off so far that he could not get back again, seeing which, he put down his violin, and throwing his arms round Weber exclaimed enthusiastically, 'Ah, grand maître! que je t'aime, que je t'admire!' The audience joined in with loud cheers for Weber.

Weber returned to Dresden July 1, 1821. In comparison with other places in Germany, Dresden was in no special hurry to produce Der Freischütz, though it had not been able altogether to shut its ears to the reports of its colossal success. The composer, in spite of all the pains he took to show his loyalty, was no favourite with the king and court. He was the singer par excellence of Körner's lyrics, and anything which called up reminiscences of the war that inspired those songs could not but be painful to the King of Saxony. He tried to be just towards Weber, and acknowledged his services in many ways, but his sentiments were well known, and had their influence on the courtiers. From the time of the first appearance of Der Freischütz till Weber's death, there is not a sign that at court the smallest pride was felt in the fact of Dresden possessing the greatest German composer of the day. He was all but allowed to accept the post of Court-Capellmeister at Cassel, with the liberal salary of 2,500 thalers (£375)—1000 thalers more than he received at Dresden. The Minister at last offered him an increase of 300 thalers, calculating that with his attachment to Dresden that would be sufficient inducement to him to remain; and he was not deceived. The additional salary however was deprived of all value as a distinction by its being also bestowed on Morlacchi. This took place in August and September of the year in which Der Freischütz saw the light, but even some years later Weber's official superiors would not see that the Capellmeister of the Dresden German opera was a man of world-wide fame. Perhaps they really did not see it. When Weber was in Berlin, Dec. 1825, for the production of Euryanthe, his Intendant von Lüttichau happened to be present when Weber was leaving the theatre after rehearsal, and seeing a large crowd waiting at the door, and all hats raised with the greatest respect, he turned to him and said with astonishment, 'Weber, are you then really a celebrated man?'

Der Freischütz was performed in Dresden for the first time, Jan. 26, 1822, and met with a more enthusiastic reception than had ever been known there before. At the close of the performance the storm of applause defied all restraint. A few isolated cases were found of people who did not like it, but their comments were unheard in the general approval. Kind, the librettist, could not bear the music, because it threw his own merits into the shade, and its ever-increasing success irritated the petty vanity of this bel esprit to such an extent as to end in a complete breach of his friendship with Weber. Spohr, who had moved to Dresden^[44] with his family, Oct. 31, 1821, heard it there for the first time, and was not favourably impressed. His failure to understand Weber's music has been mentioned already, and this is fresh evidence of it; but as before, it made no difference in their relations. On the contrary, Weber showed his esteem for Spohr by warmly recommending him to Generaldirector Feige, of Cassel, for the post of Capellmeister, which he had himself declined, but which, as is well-known, Spohr accepted, and filled with credit up to a short period before his death. Ludwig Tieck too, then resident in Dresden, never could reconcile himself thoroughly to Der Freischütz, though he heartily appreciated Euryanthe. The two men, much as they differed in their views on dramatic art, formed a lasting friendship, expressed with frankness on both sides. Weber was seldom absent from Tieck's dramatic readings of great works, and was a most attentive listener. Speaking generally, he was on excellent terms with the poets of the day. With Goethe indeed he never got on, though they met several times; but with Jean Paul, and also with Achim von Arnim he was intimate. Arnim, like Tieck, belonged to the romantic school, and it was natural that there should be sympathy between them; but Weber was also very friendly with Wilhelm Müller, author of the 'Müllerlieder,' and the 'Winterreise.' Müller visited him in Dresden and dedicated a volume of poems to him in the autumn of 1842, but not one of these did Weber set. His day for writing Lieder was over. Of Tieck's poems he only composed one ('Sind es Schmerzen, sind es Freuden,' from 'Die schöne Magelone ').

During the latter half of 1821 Weber was at work upon the comic opera 'Die drei Pintos,' begun in 1820, but destined never to be finished. He was drawn off towards work of a different kind. The criticisms on Der Freischütz were almost always on points of form, and mainly resolved themselves into this, that the opera did not contain enough of those larger, artistically constructed, forms which betray the hand of the master. Hence, was it certain that Weber was really master of his art, or did he not owe his great success mainly,to his heaven-sent genius? Weber was very sensitive to public criticism, even when so ignorant, one-sided, and absurd as this, and he determined to write a grand opera, and show the world what he was capable of. When therefore an invitation to write a new opera arrived (Nov. 11, 1821) from Barbaja, of the Kärnthnerthor theatre in Vienna, he seized the opportunity with avidity. The libretto was to be written by Frau Helmina von Chezy, who had been in Dresden since 1817, well-received in literary circles, and not without poetical talent. She offered him several subjects, and he selected 'Euryanthe.' After several attempts, in which Weber gave her active assistance, she succeeded in putting her materials into something like the shape he desired. His idea of an opera was that the music should not be so entirely dominant as in Italian opera, but that the work should be a drama, in which the words should have a real interest of their own, and in which action, scenery, and decorations should all contribute to the vividness and force of the general impression. In short, that the impression made by an opera should be based on a carefully balanced combination of poetry, music, and the descriptive arts. These principles he had endeavoured to carry out in Der Freischütz; in Euryanthe he hoped to realise them fully. The words of the 1st Act were ready by Dec. 15, 1821, and Weber set to work with all his might.

Thinking it well to study the circumstances under which his new work was to appear, he started, Feb. 10, 1822, for Vienna, stopping on the way to conduct Der Freischütz (Feb. 14) at Prague, with unmeasured success. He attended a performance of the same opera in Vienna on the 18th, but found it far from edifying. How he conducted it himself on March 9, and what a reception it had, has been already mentioned. This one work gave him a popularity in Vienna that became almost burdensome. He was urged to settle there altogether, and undertake the direction of the German opera. There also he received an invitation to write a grand opera for Paris. In the midst of all this excitement he fell ill with a violent sore throat. That his disease was making progress was evident. Still he appeared in public on two occasions besides the Freischütz performance, once at a concert given by Böhm the violinist, on March 10,—when he conducted his Jubel-ouverture, and the men's choruses from the 'Leyer und Schwert,' with enormous success—and once at a concert of his own (March 19), when he played his Concertstück, which, oddly enough, was not equally appreciated. By March 26 he was again at home.

All the summer he remained at Hosterwitz, and there was composed by far the greatest part of Euryanthe, for he had the same house the following summer. His most important piece of official work at this time was the production of Fidelio. That opera, though composed in 1805, and reduced to its final shape in 1814, had never been given in Dresden, for the simple reason that till Weber came there was no German opera. Though it was impossible for him to ignore that the music is not throughout essentially dramatic, he felt it to be a sublime creation, for which his admiration was intense, and he strained every nerve to secure a performance worthy of the work. An animated correspondence ensued between him and Beethoven. Weber's first letter was dated Jan. 28, 1823; Beethoven replied Feb. 16, and Weber rejoined on the 18th. After that there were letters from Beethoven of April 9, June 5 and 9, and Aug. 11, the last enclosing a sonata and variations of his own composition. Weber was a great admirer and a remarkable exponent of Beethoven's PF. music, especially of his sonatas, a fact which Beethoven seems to have known. The correspondence has been lost, except a fragment of a rough copy of Weber's,^[45] conclusively proving his high opinion of Fidelio. The score sent by Beethoven, April 10, is still at the Dresden court-theatre. The first performance took place April 29, with Wilhelmine Schröder as Leonore.

In Sept. 1823 Weber started for Vienna to conduct the first performance of Euryanthe. Benedict accompanied him. Barbaja had assembled a company of first-rate Italian singers, and was giving admirable performances of Italian operas, especially Rossini's. Rossini had been in Vienna, and had rehearsed his operas himself. The public was almost intoxicated with the music, and it was performed so admirably that even Weber, who had previously been almost unjustly severe on Rossini's operas, was obliged, to his vexation, to confess that he liked what he heard there. It was unfortunate that the singers cast for Euryanthe, though as a whole efficient, were stars of the second order. Still, Der Freischütz had prepossessed the public, and the first performance of the new work was enthusiastically applauded. But the enthusiasm did not last. The plot was not sufficiently intelligible, people found the music long and noisy, and after the second and third representations, which Weber conducted with great success, the audiences gradually became cold and thin. After his departure Conradin Kreutzer compressed the libretto to such an extent as to make the opera a mere unintelligible conglomeration of isolated scenes, and after dragging through twenty performances, it vanished from the boards. After the enormous success of the Freischütz, Euryanthe was virtually a fiasco. Neither had Weber much consolation from his fellow artists. In many instances envy prevented their seeing the grand and beautiful ideas poured forth by Weber in such rich abundance; and there were artists above the influence of any such motive, who yet did not appreciate the work. Foremost among these was Schubert; even if his own attempts at opera had not shown the same thing before, his seeing no merit in Euryanthe would prove to demonstration that a man may be a great composer of songs, and yet know nothing of dramatic^[46] music. The only really satisfactory part of the visit was his intercourse with Beethoven, who welcomed him heartily.^[47] At one time Beethoven had not valued Weber's compositions at a high rate, but his opinion of the composer of Der Freischütz had risen enormously. He did not go to Euryanthe: there would have been no object in his doing so, now that his troubles with his hearing had settled down into total deafness.

Weber left Vienna Nov. 5, conducted the 5th representation of Der Freischütz in Prague on the 7th, and arrived in Dresden on the 10th. By his desire Benedict remained in Vienna, to keep him informed of the progress of Euryanthe; but what he heard was so far from pleasant that he did not venture to report it. Weber had put his full strength into the work, intending it as a demonstration of his power and capacity. With the keenest anxiety he followed its progress, marking the impression it produced, not only in Vienna, but in every theatre which performed it on the strength of its being an opera of Weber's. When he found that in most places it received only a succés d'estime, and that opinions as to its value were divided, even amongst unbiassed connoisseurs, he fell into deep depression. Benedict, on his return from Vienna, thought him looking ten years older, and all the symptoms of his malady had increased. To illness it was undoubtedly to be attributed that all his old energy, nay, even his love of music, for the time abandoned him. His compositions seemed to recede into the far distance, and in the summer of 1824 he writes in a bitter mood to his wife from Marienbad, where he was taking the waters, 'I have not an idea, and do not believe I ever composed anything. Those operas were not mine after all.' When asked how he did, he would reply, 'I cough, and am lazy.' During fifteen months he composed absolutely nothing, except one little French romance.

Many disappointments, however, as Euryanthe brought him, there were places where it was at once valued as it deserved. In Dresden the first performance took place March 31, 1824, with a success that equalled Weber's highest expectations. As an instance, Tieck pronounced it to contain passages which Gluck and Mozart might have envied. And as in stage matters the first impression is apt to be the lasting one, even down to a later generation, the people of Dresden to this day understand and love Euryanthe. In Leipzig it was much the same, the opera occupying a place in the repertoire from May 1824. Rochlitz heard it May 24, 1825, and next day wrote Weber almost the best and most discerning criticism of the time.^[48] In Berlin there was considerable delay in producing the opera, for which Spontini received more than his share of the blame. The first performance took place on Dec. 23, 1825, and in Berlin too, where Weber's most devoted adherents were to be found, the effect it produced was great and lasting. The composer conducted in person, though, suffering as he was from mortal illness, it took all his indomitable energy to make the mind rise superior to the body. It was his last appearance in Berlin.

Weber knew that his days were numbered. A model husband and father, the thought of his wife and children was never absent from his mind; to provide for them to the utmost of his power was not only his most sacred duty, but his highest happiness. No one can fail to be touched by the tenderness and devotion which breathe in the letters to his wife, many of which are printed by his sons in the biography. After quitting Stuttgart, he had regulated his affairs in the most exemplary manner. He lived very comfortably in Dresden, and was able even to afford himself small luxuries. His great desire was to leave enough to place his family above fear of poverty. It was his love for them which roused him from the languor and depression into which he had fallen after the completion of Euryanthe. The immediate impulse was a letter from Charles Kemble, then lessee of Co vent Garden theatre, inviting him to write an opera in English. London had also participated in the Freischütz mania, no less than three theatres playing it at the same time. Kemble added a request that he would come to London to produce the new opera in person, and conduct Der Freischütz and Preciosa. Weber did not hesitate long, and the two soon agreed on 'Oberon' as the subject of the opera, the libretto to be drawn up by Planché. The terms took longer to arrange. Kemble's offer of £500 Weber considered too low, and Kemble thought Weber's demands much too high. At last, however, he agreed to give £1000.^[49] Before the affair was concluded Weber consulted his physician, Dr. Hedenus, as to the possibility of the journey in his then state of health. The reply was that if he would give up conducting and composing, and take a year's complete rest in Italy, his life might be prolonged for another five or six years. If, on the other hand, he accepted the English commission, his life would be measured by months, perhaps by weeks. Weber replied by his favourite motto, 'As God will,' and settled to go.

Although he had undertaken to compose this opera from a desire to make money, he would not have been the highminded artist he was if he had not set to work at it with all his might. So much was he in earnest that, at the age of thirty-seven, and with one foot in the grave, he began to learn English systematically, and was soon able to carry on his own correspondence in English, and when in London astonished everybody by the ease with which he spoke. In reference to this fact it is worth while to notice the behaviour of other composers in like circumstances. When Piccinni came to Paris to compose his Roland, with which he was to enter the lists against Gluck, he knew so little French that Marmontel had to translate and explain his libretto to him bit by bit. Spontini spent 22 years in the service of the King of Prussia, bound by contract to supply German operas, and yet never took the pains to learn the language methodically. Weber, however, saw clearly the impossibility of giving full and adequate musical expression to the sentiments of a poem unless the composer be familiar with the language in which it is written.

The 1st and 2nd acts reached him Jan. 18, 1825, and the 3rd on Feb. 1. He set to work Jan. 23, the first number he composed being Huon's grand air in the 1st act. He laid the work aside during the summer, but resumed it Sept. 19. The last number, the overture, was completed in London April 29, 1826.

By medical advice he took the waters at Ems, in the summer of 1825, starting from Dresden on July 3. His route lay through Naumburg to Weimar, where he made a last unsuccessful attempt to enter into close relations with Goethe, and was warmly welcomed by Hummel and his family. Thence he went by Gotha to Frankfort, greeting his old friend Gottfried Weber for the last time, and then by Wiesbaden to Ems. This journey must have convinced him of his extraordinary popularity. People of all ranks vied with each other in showing him kindness, respect, and admiration. At Ems he was admitted into the circle of that accomplished man the Crown Prince of Prussia (afterwards Frederic William IV.), and his wife, an unusual distinction. But the musician tottering to his grave was no longer able to enjoy the sunshine which shone so brightly on his last days.

The time for Weber's departure for England drew on. On Feb. 5 he conducted Der Freischütz in Dresden for the last time, and took leave of his band, all except Fürstenau, the well-known flute-player, who was to travel with him. He chose the route through Paris, and made the acquaintance of the principal musicians there, specially enjoying the attentions of Cherubini, for whom he had always had a high respect. A performance of Boieldieu's 'La Dame blanche' enchanted him. 'What grace! what wit!' he writes to Theodor Hell, at Dresden, 'no such comic opera has been written since Figaro.' On March 5^[50] he arrived in London, and was most hospitably received by Sir George Smart, then Organist of the Chapel Royal. On the 6th he went to Covent Garden theatre to view the scene of his future labours; he was recognised, and the cheers of the spectators must have assured him of his popularity in London. On March 8 he conducted a selection from Der Freischütz at one of the 'oratorio concerts,' and here his reception was even more enthusiastic, nearly every piece from the opera being encored. On the 9th the rehearsals for 'Oberon' began, and Weber perceived at once that he had at his disposal all the materials for a first-rate performance. To please Braham, who took the part of Huon, he composed two additional pieces, a grand scena and area ('Yes, even love'), which Braham substituted for the grand air in the 1st act, and the prayer in the 2nd act ('Ruler of this awful hour'). The former is never sung in Germany, being far inferior in beauty to the original air, but the prayer is retained, and is indeed one of the gems of the work. The first performance took place April 12. The music went beautifully, and the composer had an even more enthusiastic reception than that bestowed on Rossini two or three years before. The aristocracy alone, with few exceptions, held aloof. Weber was not the man to show himself obsequious, and on the other hand his look and manner were too unpretending to be imposing. By May 29 Oberon had reached its 28th performance, the first 12 having been conducted by himself according to his contract.

Though his strength was constantly declining he was always ready to lend his name or his services when he could be of assistance to others. Thus he took part in concerts given April 27, May 1, 10, and 18 by Miss Hawes, Fürstenau, Kemble, and Braham, nay, even at one of Miss Paton's on May 30, six days before his death. A concert of his own on May 26 was a failure. The day was badly chosen, and Weber in his state of utter exhaustion had omitted two or three social formalities. Among other music given at this concert was his Jubel-Cantata (1818), put to different words, and a song ('From Chindara's warbling fount') just composed for Miss Stephens, who sang it to his accompaniment. It was his last composition, and the last time his fingers touched the keyboard.

The preparations for his journey home were made in haste, for Weber was filled with an inexpressible longing to see his family once more. But his own words to a friend before leaving Germany, that he 'was going to London to die,' were fulfilled. Far from home and kindred he sank under his sufferings during the night of June 4. His body was laid in the grave at Moorfields Chapel, to the strains of Mozart's Requiem, on June 21. The funeral ceremonies were conducted as if for a person of the highest rank, and there was an enormous crowd. In 1844 the coffin was removed to Germany, and interred in the family vault at Dresden.

---

Of all the German musicians of the 19th century none has exercised a greater influence over his own generation and that succeeding it than Weber; indeed there is scarcely a branch of artistic life in which his impulse is not still felt. The historian of German music in the 19th century will have to make Weber his starting-point. His influence was even greater than that of Beethoven, for deeply imbued though Beethoven was with the modern spirit, he adhered as a rule to the traditions of the 18th century. These Weber casts aside, and starts after fresh ideals. As a natural consequence he was far less perfect in form than Beethoven, nor was he his equal in power, but in originality he has never been surpassed by any musician, ancient or modern. The germs of life he scattered broadcast defy calculation, and the whole of German opera, down to Wagner's latest works, is evolved from Weber's spirit. Even the concert music of other masters less connected with opera, such as Mendelssohn and Schumann, profited by his suggestiveness. Without Weber, Mendelssohn's Midsummer Night's Dream music, Walpurgis Nacht, Concert-Overtures, and PF. Concertos; Schumann's Paradise and the Peri, Pilgrimage of the Rose, and concert-ballads; the entire variation-music of the present day, choruses for men's voices, certain forms of the German Lied, even the modern technique of pianoforte-playing, and, most of all, the present development of orchestration, are inconceivable. And though during the last 30 years the Weber-cultus in Germany has been checked by the revived influence of Bach, though his weakness of form has been hotly condemned by composers of concert and chamber-music (thus—for the most part involuntarily—implying a depreciation of his work in general, which is as foolish and shortsighted as it is ungrateful), his genius can afford to deride all such detraction now and for ever. He is curiously near of kin to his opponents, even to Brahms. For instance, take Brahms's penchant for the national music of his own and other countries, and trace it to its source, and you come upon Weber. Again, he is the first of the modern typical artists who is a cultivated man of the world, as well as a musician. This fact involved a change in the social position of the artist, which change has been erroneously ascribed to Beethoven's personal qualities, though it might just as well be attributed to Spohr. Both were proved men, conscious of their own worth, and capable of asserting it when necessary; but of what great artist and man of honour might not the same be said? It is undeniable that the range of their interests outside music was extremely limited. Spohr was cultivated in the same sense that Mozart was; Beethoven, though he absorbed the ideas of the French Revolution while living on the Rhine, could lay no claim to anything like general culture. Weber's birth gave him at once a status in the best society, and compelled the world to admit that there was nothing derogatory to a man of family in following art as a vocation. His cultivation was indeed of a peculiar nature and most extensive; not acquired from books, but learnt by practical experience, and perfectly homogeneous with his music. To this result both education and natural gifts tended. His literary and poetical talent was considerable, and he took a keen and intelligent interest in all mechanical processes and the plastic arts, in which his taste was excellent.^[51] Compared to Mendelssohn's, his education was a very irregular one, but his wandering life from a child had brought before him a host of varied impressions which his intelligent mind absorbed, and his cool head turned to account. At twenty he had more knowledge of life and men than many an artist of the old school had attained at the time of his death. His cleverness and thorough knowledge of the ways of society were partly natural, and partly acquired through intercourse with men of all ranks, from the lowest to the highest. From his time the musician of genius, who was a musician and nothing more, like Franz Schubert, became impossible in Germany. The characteristics which distinguish Mendelssohn, Schumann, Hiller, Wagner, Liszt, and other great musicians, who are fully developed men, from the older type of musician, are precisely those first found in Weber.

To form a right estimate of Weber's music it is necessary to look upon him as a dramatic composer. Not that his other compositions are of no importance—quite the contrary; but in one and all may be discerned more or less plainly that dramatic genius which was the essence of his nature, and which determined their form, and gave them that stamp whereby they differ so strikingly from the productions of other artists. Composers gifted with the true dramatic instinct have always been rare in Germany, and it was this that Weber possessed in a high degree, higher perhaps even than Mozart. Being his most prominent characteristic, we will deal with his operas first.

1. The earliest, 'Die Macht der Liebe und des Weins,' was destroyed, apparently by himself. Of the second, 'Das Waldmädchen,' composed in Freiberg, there are extant three autograph fragments, containing in all 214 bars, the originals of some and copies of others being now in the Royal Library at Berlin.^[52] These fragments seem to bear out Weber's own verdict that the opera was an immature production, not perhaps wholly devoid of invention. Although played several times, no complete score can now be found. We now come to his third opera, and after that almost all that he wrote for the stage made its permanent mark.

2. The libretto of 'Peter Schmoll und seine Nachbarn' was adapted by a certain Joseph Türke from a novel of the same name by Carl Gottlob Cramer (2 vols. Rudolstadt, 1798–99). The book was one of the romances of knights and robbers with which the market was flooded after the success of 'Götz von Berlichingen' and 'Die Räuber.'^[53] Cramer's Peter Schmoll has no artistic merit, but it is less crude and sensational than some others of its class. The scene is laid not in the Middle Ages, but in the period of the French Revolution. Türke arranged the plot in two acts, and treated it after the fashion of the German Singspiel, with spoken dialogue. All this part however has been lost, the words of the songs alone being preserved in the score. The verses are rarely Türke's own, but were taken from the novel, which was interlarded, in the then fashion, with songs. Such verses as he did write are more than commonplace, especially when intended to be comic; refined comedy being a rarity in German drama long after Peter Schmoll's day. The music evinces great talent, perhaps artificially matured, but naturally so great and so healthy that not even the hot-house treatment to which it had been subjected could injure it permanently. Weber was impelled to produce operas before he had fully developed the feeling for logical harmonic progressions, nay, before he had mastered musical orthography itself, to say nothing of the skill necessary to construct musico-dramatic forms on a large scale. Peter Schmoll affords a good opportunity for comparing the unequal, unpropitious development of Weber's powers with those of Mozart, whose youthful operas are now engraved and accessible. In Mozart the mastery of external means advanced step by step with the development of mental power. From the first he always had the two. Weber, at the time he composed Peter Schmoll, had much that was original to say, but was without the technical training necessary to enable him to say it. To one capable of piercing through the defective form to the thought beneath, the unmistakable features of his individuality will often be discernible. Real dramatic characterisation is not to be expected from a boy of fourteen; so far his music is rather stagey than dramatic, but still he had, even then, unquestionably a brilliant talent for the stage. This is mainly apparent in the treatment of general situations, such as the second scene of the first act, where Schmoll, Minette, and Hans Bast play at blindman's-buff in the dark. The melodies are throughout catching, often graceful and charming, always related to the German Lied, and never reflecting the Italian style. He puts almost all he has to say into the voice-parts; the accompaniments being unimportant, at least as regards polyphony. There is much originality in the harmony, and the colouring is individual and full of meaning. Now it is precisely with harmony and colouring that Weber produces his most magical effects in his later operas. In his autobiography he relates how an article he read in a musical periodical about this time suggested to him the idea of writing in a novel manner, by making use of old and obsolete instruments. The instrumentation in Peter Schmoll is indeed quite peculiar, No. 14, a terzet (Empfanget hier des Vaters Segen), being accompanied by two flauti dolci, two basset-horns, two bassoons, and string-quartet. His motive was not a mere childish love of doing something different from other people, but he had an idea that these strange varieties of tone helped to characterise the situation. In the passage named the peculiar combination of wind-instruments does produce a peculiarly solemn effect. Again, in certain comic, and also in some mysterious passages, he uses two piccolos with excellent effect, giving almost a forecast of the spirit of Der Freischütz. Minette sings in the first act a mournful song of a love-lorn maiden, and as the voice ceases the last bar is re-echoed softly by a single flute, solo, a perfect stroke of genius to express desolation, loneliness, and silent sorrow, and recalling the celebrated passage in the 3rd act of 'Euryanthe,' where the desolation of the hapless Euryanthe is also depicted by a single flute. Weber adapted the music of this romance to the song 'Wird Philomele trauern' (No. 5), in Abu Hassan, and used some other parts of the opera in his later works, for instance the last song in the third finale of Oberon. The overture to Peter Schmoll was printed, after Weber's thorough revision of it, in 1807, and also a revised form of the duet 'Dich an dies Heiz zu drucken,' in 1809.^[54]

3. The subject of 'Rübezahl,' a 2-act opera begun by Weber in Breslau, but never finished, was taken from a legend of the Riesengebirge, dramatised by J. G. Rhode. The versification is polished and harmonious, but the action drags sadly. Rübezahl, the spirit of the mountain, having fallen in love with a mortal Princess, lures her into his castle, and keeps her prisoner there, but woos her in vain. Having managed to secure his magic sceptre, she gets rid of him by bidding him count the turnips in the garden, which at her request he turns into human beings for her companions. As soon as he is gone she summons a griffin, who carries her down again to her own home, and thus outwits Rübezahl. For variety's sake the poet has introduced the father, lover, and an old servant of the Princess, who penetrate in disguise to the castle, and are hired by Rübezahl as servants; but they do not influence the plot, and have to be got rid of at the close.

These weaknesses, however, are redeemed by some supernatural situations, excellent for musical treatment. Of this libretto Weber says that he had composed 'the greater part,' though the overture and three vocal numbers alone have been preserved. Even of these the second vocal number is unfinished, while the overture exists complete only in a revised form of later date. Those familiar with Der Freischütz and Oberon know Weber's genius for dealing with the spirit-world; but the Rübezahl fragments show extraordinarily few traces of the new language he invented for the purpose. The music, indeed—always excepting the revised form of the overture—is less Weberish than a great deal in Peter Schmoll, nor is there any marked advance in the technique of composition. In a quintet for four soprani and bass,^[55] the princess bewails her loneliness, and sighs for her girl-companions, when Rübezahl bids her plant three turnips, and call them Clärchen, Kunigunde, and Elsbeth; he then touches them with his wand, and her three friends rise out of the ground and rush to her amid a lively scene of mutual recognition, Rübezahl standing by and making his reflections. The manner in which he has treated this scene indicates very clearly the state of Weber's development at the time. The phantoms evoked from the turnips sing like mortals, in strains differing in no degree from those of the princess. Twenty years later such a scene would inevitably have produced a series of the most individual tone-pictures, contrasting sharply with everything of mortal interest. As it is, the future dramatist and composer is but in the chrysalis-stage, and the quintet is merely a very lively and effective stage-scene, with some clever passages in it (the middle subject 'schön sind der sterblichen Gefühle,' particularly fine), but with no traces of Weber's individuality.

4. With the next opera, 'Silvana,' we take leave of boyish compositions, and reach a higher stage of development. Silvana and Abu Hassan form the middle group of Weber's dramatic works, while Freischütz, Preciosa, Euryanthe, and Oberon, constitute the third and last. We have stated already that in Silvana he used some material from Das Waldmädchen, the libretto of which has been lost, except the few verses preserved in the score. Hiemer's story is as follows:—

Two German knights in the Middle Ages have fallen in love with the same noble maiden. Her rejected suitor, Ritter von Kleeburg, takes his revenge on her and his favoured rival, Count Adelhart, by stealing their baby-daughter. He intends her to be killed, but the old servant who carried her off relents, and brings up the child in secret. Feeling his end to be near, he sets out with the intention of restoring his daughter, long believed to be dead, to the Count, the Countess having died of grief long before. Having arrived in the neighbourhood of Adelhart's castle, he hides Silvana in a grotto in the forest, enjoining her not to speak a word to any one, and goes to inform Adelhart. He cannot, however, then speak with him, Adelhart being busy with preparations for the marriage of his other daughter, Mechthilde, to Count Rudolf von Halfenstein. Mechthilde is in love, not with Rudolf, but with Albert von Kleeburg, the son of her father's late enemy, and Rudolf himself has nothing but esteem for his destined bride. He goes out hunting with his men from Adelhart's castle, in the forest finds Silvana, who pretends to be dumb, and having lost his heart to her, brings her back to the castle. Adelhart gives a tournament in honour of the marriage between Rudolf and Mechthilde, and the prize is carried off by Albert, fighting with closed visor. Encouraged by the demonstrations he receives, he makes himself known and asks her father for Mechthilde's hand. Adelhart is furious, nd is going to have him imprisoned and put to death, but Albert and his men fight their way through to the forest. Here he finds the old servant, seeking Silvana, and learns the true state of affairs: but Adelhart's knights fall upon him, and drag him back to the castle, the old servant following. Meanwhile Adelhart has learned that Rudolf is in love, not with Mechthilde, but with Silvana, and is going to put her to death, believing her to be some rival who has used witchcraft. Just as the fatal stab is about to be given the prisoner Albert enters with the old servant, and informs Adelhart that Silvana is his daughter. A reconciliation takes place between Adelhart and Albert, and the two pairs of lovers are united.

This opera, with its medieval romanticism, is the precursor of Euryanthe, and therefore of great interest in Weber's development. Independent of this, however, its merit as a work of art is considerable, and I believe the time will come when it will again find a home in the theatres of Germany. To ridicule the piece as hyper-romantic and old-fashioned is a mistake, arising chiefly from our habit of looking down upon the romanticism so much in vogue at the beginning of the century. We forget that an opera-libretto is something very different from the long-drawn-out romance of chivalry, and that the falsity and childishness which repel in a novel need find no place in a libretto, even though it be founded on the same situations. The story of Silvana deals with emotions which are natural, true, and intelligibly expressed, and the situations are not less fitted for musical treatment because they belong to a bygone period seen through a legendary haze, but still an heroic period of great and lasting interest. Another point in favour of Hiemer's poem is that the plot develops itself naturally and intelligibly, the interest is well kept up, and there is the necessary variety of sensation. That Weber transferred to it musical ideas from Das Waldmädchen can be verified in two instances only, one being the overture, the autograph of which is docketed 'renovata il 23 Marzo, 1809,' a term which must necessarily apply to the Waldmädchen overture. The 'renovation' cannot have been of a very startling nature, judging by the music, which is neither interesting nor original. The second case is the air assigned to Krips the Squire, 'Liegt so ein Unthier ausgestreckt ' (No. 2), the opening of which is identical with a ritornel in one of the 'Waldmädchen' fragments. It may therefore be assumed that the adaptation of old material was of a very limited description. The fact of there having been any adaptation at all may partly explain the extreme inequality between the separate numbers in Silvana, but we must also take into account the inevitable distractions and interruptions among which it was composed at Stuttgart. The opera undoubtedly does not give the impression of having been conceived all at once, and this damages the general effect.

The progress in dramatic characterisation made by Weber since Rübezahl and Peter Schmoll is obvious. The knights of the period are more or less typical personages, and do not require much individualising. A composer's chief difficulty would lie in maintaining the particular tone adapted to each character consistently throughout the drama, and in this Weber has succeeded thoroughly. Count Adelhart especially, and Krips the Squire, are drawn with a master hand. The power of indicating a character or situation by two or three broad strokes, afterwards so remarkable in Weber, is clearly seen in Silvana. For instance, the very first bar of the duet between Mechthilde and Adelhart, 'Wag' es, mir zu widerstreben' (Act ii. No. 9), seems to put the violent, masterful knight bodily before us. Another crucial point is the winding up of a denouement, by massing the subjects together in a general movement which shall keep the interest of the spectator at a stretch; and of this we have an excellent specimen in the Finale of Act ii. Speaking of the music simply as music, though by no means perfect in form, the ideas are abundant and original. The melodies partake of the Volkslied character, there is a riotous fancy combined with the drollest comedy, and a grace peculiarly Weberish, while the instrumentation is dainty, full of colour, and melodious. Good examples of the first quality are the Huntsman's Chorus (Act i. No. 3), and the Drinking Chorus in the Finale of the same Act; and of the comedy the whole part of the cowardly bully Krips. His Arietta in E♭, No. 14, is capital, and also interesting as a specimen of the distinction between Weber's vis comica and Mozart's as shown in the Entführung and Zauberflöte. The dances allotted to Silvana (Nos. 1, 8, 12) are most graceful and charming. Another remarkable point in the opera is the musical illustration of pantomime, even in the vocal numbers, a device for connecting the music and the action together, which is well known to have been carried to such an extent by Wagner that he is generally considered the inventor of it. Weber, however, has in Silvana turned it to account most effectively. A striking example is the scene where Rudolf meets Silvana in the forest. He addresses her in gentle tones, to which she replies only by signs, accompanied by orchestral strains of the most expressive nature, with a great deal of cello-solo. The whole scene is full of genius, and continually suggests a comparison with Wagner, especially where Rudolf sings, 'Wenn du mich liebtest, o welch' ein Glück! lass mich deine? Augen fragen!' while Silvana, to a melting strain from the cello, 'looks at him sweetly and tenderly,' a passage which recalls the first meeting of Siegmunde and Sieglinde in the Walküre. Other passages, in which the music follows the action step by step, are to be found in Weber's great operas, especially in Euryanthe. Strange to say, they seem to have attracted little attention, even in the latter case, and have certainly never had their merit acknowledged in print. The composer prepared two PF. editions of Silvana,^[56] the former of which (1812) is incomplete, and both now very rare. A new one is much wanted, and the full score of this interesting work ought to be published before long.

5. 'Abu Hassan,' the second in the middle group of Weber's operas, was adapted by Hiemer from an Arabian fairy-tale, with occasional reminiscences of Weisse's Dorfbarbier.^[57] The story of this one-act Singspiel is closely connected with certain experiences of both Weber and Hiemer in Stuttgart. It must have been easy to Weber to find appropriate melodies for a creditor dunning a light-minded impecunious debtor; and curiously enough, the first number of the opera he set was the Creditors' Chorus, 'Geld, Geld, Geld, ich will nicht langer warten' (August 11, 1810). The little piece consisted originally of the Overture and eight vocal numbers, the duet 'Thränen sollst du nicht vergiessen' being added in 1812, and the air 'Hier liegt, welch martervolles Loos' in 1823.

The chief reason why this opera is so little known in Germany is that it is so short, barely occupying half an evening; it has, however, been given several times lately. The fun in German comic opera has always been somewhat boisterous; for more refined comedy we must generally go to the French, but Abu Hassan, is almost the sole German work which produces a hearty laugh, and at the same time charms by its grace and refinement, and by the distinction of its musical expression. Perhaps the best bit is the scene between Abu Hassan and his creditors, but the duet between Omar and Fatima (No. 6), the final terzetto (No. 7), and Fatima's additional air (No. 8), are all of great merit. The last air, it should be borne in mind, was composed twelve years after the rest, and bears the stamp of the matured composer. Various little instances of want of finish appear in the music, but defects of this kind may well be overlooked for the sake of the invention, so spontaneous and spirituel, and the downright hearty fun of the whole, mingled as it is with rare and touching tenderness.^[58]

6. Between the completion of Abu Hassan and the commencement of Der Freischütz intervene no less than six years—a long period in so short a life—during which Weber composed no opera. Not that the dramatic impulse had abandoned him. 'I am anxiously looking out for another good libretto,' he writes after the production of Abu Hassan at Munich 'for I cannot get on at all without an opera in hand.' We know he had several projects, and that he had a 'Tannhäuser' in his mind in 1814; but his restless life, and the unsatisfactory nature of his position at Prague, prevented his bringing anything to maturity. Nevertheless his dramatic powers did not lie absolutely fallow. Six grand Italian arias with orchestra, some with chorus also, composed during this period, though intended for the concert-room, may be classed with his dramatic works, because they presuppose a scene or situation in which some distinct person gives expression to his or her feelings. The same is true of three Italian duets, which mark an important stage in his development, as it was through them that he gained dexterity in handling the larger forms of vocal music. As we have seen, he was somewhat clumsy at this in Silvana. Several of the six concert-arias are of high merit, particularly the one composed for Prince Frederic of Gotha, 'Signor, se padre sei,' the scena ed aria for Atalia, 'Misera me,' and the scena ed aria for Méhul's 'Helene,' 'Ah, se Edmondo fosse 1'uccisor.' The cause of the neglect of Weber's concert-arias at the present day can only be that the grand style of concert-singing is almost universally superseded by ballads, which are really unsuited to the concert-room. The three duets with PF. accompaniment are also worthy of notice, as showing Weber's perfect familiarity with the Italian style, while retaining intact his German individuality, a combination which gives them a special interest. One—'Si il mio ben, cor mio tu sei— was originally composed for 2 altos, with clarinet obligato, and an accompaniment of string quartet and 2 horns. It was performed at Weber's concert in Darmstadt in 1811, when he writes to Gottfried Weber, 'a duet so confoundedly Italian in style that it might be Farinelli's; however it pleased them infernally.' This is, however, unjust to himself, for though here and there the Italian cast of melody is obvious, the main body is thoroughly Weberish. The allegro with its contrasting subjects, one sustained and flowing, and the other light, graceful, and piquant, recalls the duet between Agatha and Aennchen in Freischütz.

Besides his Italian compositions, among which we may include 3 canzonets for single voice and PF., Weber exercised his dramatic vein twice between 1811 and 1817, in the composition of Lieder, and in his cantata 'Kampf und Sieg' (1815). These important works are of course only indirectly dramatic. They will be noticed later on.

7. With Der Freischütz Weber laid the foundation of German romantic opera. To explain this statement we must first define precisely what we mean by the term 'romantic.' Originally borrowed from the Spanish and French mediæval chronicles of chivalry, the word primarily denoted anything marvellous, surprising, knight-errant-like, or fantastic. Operas were often founded on stories of this kind in the 18th century, the first being a libretto called 'Lisouart und Dariolette,' adapted by Schiebler from Favart, and set by J. A. Hiller (Hamburg 1766). The French taste for fairy tales and eastern stories penetrated to Germany, and such subjects were used in opera. Thus the story of Zemire and Azor was set in 1775, and that of Oberon's Magic Horn in 1790. The Zauberflöte too, as is well known, was founded on an eastern fairy tale, and that chef-d'œuvre made fairy-operas a recognised fashion. All these, from the nature of their subjects, might be called romantic operas, and indeed were so at the time. Weber himself speaks of Mozart, Cherubini, and even Beethoven as romantic composers, but this was not in the sense in which the word has been used since his time in Germany. The fairy and magic operas, of which Vienna was the head-quarters, were popular because their sensational plots and elaborate scenery delighted a people as simple as a set of grown-up children. They were, in fact, pretty fantastic trifles, and Mozart, though he introduced serious tones in them, did not alter their essential character. The romantic opera, in the present restricted sense of the word, differs from these earlier fairy operas in that whatever is introduced of the marvellous, whether narrative, legend, or fairy-tale, is treated seriously, and not as a mere matter of amusement. The ultimate cause of this change of ideas was the entire transformation of the intellectual life of Germany during the end of the 18th and beginning of the 19th centuries. After its long state of dependence on foreign countries the mind of Germany awoke to consciousness, began to know something of its own history, its legends and myths, its natural language and customs, and to prize them as precious heirlooms. It again grasped the peculiar almost pantheistic relations with nature, which distinguished the Teutonic from the classic and Latin peoples. This change of ideas was greatly accelerated by the gradual transference of the predominating influence in music from the lively light-hearted South Germans, to the more serious and thoughtful inhabitants of North Germany. Lastly individual composers, Weber among them, came under the influence of the poets of the romantic school. As these latter, breaking away from the classicalism of Goethe and Schiller, sought their ideals of beauty in national art, history, and myth, primarily German, and afterwards Indian, Italian, Spanish, French, or English, so the composers of the romantic school also found an attraction in the same class of subjects partly because of their very unfamiliarity. Thus, consciously or unconsciously, they applied to music the dictum of Novalis with regard to romantic poetry—that it was the art of surprising in a pleasing manner.

Subjects for romantic opera require a certain expansiveness of the imagination; a capacity of soaring beyond the commonplace events of daily life. Presupposing also, as they do, a healthy, and not over-refined taste, they accommodate themselves with ease to the manners and speech of the people. This is how it happens that other elements of the German popular plays the comic and amusing which have no inherent connection with the serious conception of a romantic subject, find a place in romantic opera. Again, in contradistinction to the antique-classical drama, which revealed to the spectators an ideal world without restrictions of time or space, romantic subjects laid the utmost stress on peculiarities of race or epoch, social relations or distinctions. Thus it followed that there were in romantic opera four principal elements the imaginative, the national, the comic, and the realistic. The fusing of these elements by means of the imagination into one whole is what constitutes German romanticism. The music destined to correspond with this ideal should be bright, highly-coloured, and varied, full of sharp contrasts, subjective rather than objective, the artistic forms constantly evolving themselves in obedience to the arbitrary direction of the imagination. Hence arose two alterations of position, both of great importance in opera, the one between the instrumental and vocal parts of the music; the other, and principal one, between the poetry and the music. From this time forward the instrumental music disputes precedence with the singing, and claims equality with it as a means of dramatic characterisation. This led to a predominance of general mood over specific emotion, a subordination of the dramatic individual to the species, and a preponderance of colour over drawing. Formerly, too, the poem merely sketched out the main features of the plot, which the music filled in in accordance with its own laws; now the poet claimed a voice in the construction of the musical forms. These tendencies, if logically carried out, involve the absolute destruction of the present forms of opera, but this the Romanticists did not intend. All they contemplated was such an admixture of these decomposing elements as should impart new life and additional charm to the existing form. There was a certain sense of unrest, a chiaro-scuro, a foreboding kind of feeling about their music which made it admirably adapted for representing the supernatural.

In Silvana, Weber had already trenched upon the domain of romantic opera, in the sense in which we have just expounded it, but had not yet found adequate musical expression for German romanticism. Next came Spohr's Faust in 1813, and Zemire und Azor in 1818. In both these the subjects are conceived with earnestness, and a dreamy twilight tone runs through the whole, so that they undoubtedly possess some of the distinguishing marks of the romantic opera; but Spohr's music is much too rounded off in form, and too polished, and he had a positive aversion to anything popular. Nor had he sufficient versatility and flexibility, boldness, or vis comica. Strictly speaking, therefore, he is only half a romanticist. Freischütz was a revelation; from the date of its production there was no question as to what a romantic opera really was.

Kind did not draw on his own invention for the libretto. The history of the subject is still incomplete, but we know that the story can be traced back as far as the 17th century. It was published in the beginning of the 18th, in a book called 'Unterredungen vom Reiche der Geister,' of which a second edition appeared in Leipzig in 1731. The statement there made, that the occurrence took place in a town of Bohemia in 1710, carries no weight. From this book Johann August Apel took the story, and published it as a narrative called 'Der Freischütz, a legend of the people'^[59] (1810), handling it so cleverly that it again became popular. In 1819 Gerle took it up and wrote 'Den braunen Jager.'^[60] In 1821 it was turned into a tragedy by Count von Reisch, and performed Aug. 17, 1821, at Wurzburg, two months after the first performance of the opera in Berlin. Kind mainly followed Apel: his poem, with explanatory notes, ran through two editions in 1822 and a third in 1823 (Göschen). Twenty years later he prepared the last edition for his 'Freischütz-book,' and added to it a mass of cognate matter by no means uninteresting.

Apel's story has been more read again lately, and finding how much Kind borrowed from it, people have been apt to disparage both him and his libretto. Ambros's^[61] remarks on this point, for instance, are most unjust. Neither originality of ideas nor literary skill are so important to a librettist as the faculty of arranging his materials in a really dramatic form. This Kind had in a high degree, and it ought to be sufficient. His own alterations and additions, too, are most successful, having the threefold advantage of conducing to the musical development, suiting Weber's special gifs, and hitting the ideal of German national opera. The parts of Caspar, Aennchen, and the Hermit, are entirely his own, while that of Agathe is greatly strengthened, and Samiel is brought forward to meet the requirements of the music. The motives and action of the plot also diverge considerably from Apel's romance. Caspar being jealous of Max, tries to engage him in a compact with Satan, but the Evil One is frustrated by the pure-minded and devout Agathe, and in her stead Caspar becomes the victim. Thus Kind contrived a happy termination instead of Apel's tragic one. The plot, as it now stands,—its main interest centred in a couple of true-hearted lovers, living in an honest forester's cottage, on a background of German forest, with all its delights and all its weird associations, lit up now by sunbeams glinting on a frolicsome peasantry, now by lurid flashes revealing the forms of the powers of darkness appeals with irresistible attraction to every German heart. The most important point in the opera, however, and the secret of its success, is the strongly-marked religious element which at once raised it to an altogether higher level than any prior opera, and gave it a kind of sacred character. During the War of Freedom a spirit of religious enthusiasm had taken hold of the people of Germany, and become so far a ruling passion that any one who succeeded in giving expression to it in music was sure of striking home to the national heart. Looked at from this point of view, the part of the hermit, Kind's own invention, acquires considerable significance. The opening of the opera was originally intended to be quite different from what it is now. The curtain drew up on a forest scene with a hermit's cell, having close by a turf altar with a cross or image at the back, covered with white roses. The hermit praying before the altar sees in a vision the Prince of Darkness lying in wait to entrap Agathe, 'the spotless lamb,' and her Max. At this point Agathe enters, bearing bread, milk, and fruit for the hermit. After warning her that danger is near, he gives her his blessing and two or three of the roses, which have the power of working miracles. A duet between the two concludes the scene. Weber did not compose either the duet or the hermit's monologue; but, by his fiancée's advice, began the opera with the village fête. By this means he certainly secured a more effective introduction, though the appearance of the hermit in the last act now seems somewhat abrupt and out of place.

The religious sentiment of Weber's day was entirely of a romantic kind, made up partly of a sort of medieval fanatical Catholicism, partly of an almost pantheistical nature-worship. What a gift he had for giving expression to this sentiment Weber perhaps scarcely knew before he wrote the Freischütz. It was an advantage to him to be a member, and a conscientious one, of the Roman Catholic Church, and to have also a naturally serious and devout disposition. Hence the character of Agathe has a virgin-sweetness, an unearthly purity, such as was never put on the stage before. As an interpreter of nature Weber's position in the dramatic world is like that of Beethoven in the Symphony; nay, the infinite variety of nature-pictures contained in Der Freischütz, Preciosa, Euryanthe, and Oberon, each quite new of its kind, and each equally surpass even the manifestations of genius of the Pastoral Symphony. Nobody has ever depicted with the same truth as he a sultry moonlight night, the stillness broken only by the nightingale's trill and the solemn murmur of the trees, as in Agathe's grand scena; or a gruesome night-scene in the gloomy forest ravine, such as that in the finale of the 2nd Act. In the latter kind of scene Marschner may have surpassed him, but in the former he still remains unapproachable. With this descriptive faculty went hand in hand consummate skill in orchestration. There is something original and intoxicating in the sound he brings out of the orchestra, a complete simplicity, combined with perfect novelty. He was able, as it were, to transport himself into the soul of the instruments, and make them talk to us like human beings, each in its own language, each speaking when it alone has power to lay bare the very heart of the action. In this power of using the orchestra dramatically Weber surpasses any composer in the world; Mozart himself knew nothing of such an individualising of the resources of the orchestra. Orchestral colouring handled in this masterly manner naturally served principally to characterise situations, but it was also used for the personages. Nothing distinguishes Weber as a born dramatist more than the way he appropriated to a character from its first entrance upon the stage a certain mode of musical expression, which he maintained as a kind of keynote through all the varying emotions of the opera. A good example is the opening of the duet between Agathe and Aennchen. With the very first phrase each strikes a note which completely exemplifies their different characters, and to which they remain true to the end. The very first musical phrase sung by each gives a tone, perfectly in keeping with their different characters, and held firm to the end of the opera. With all this distinctness of characterisation, however, Weber's creations keep to general lines; he draws types rather than individuals. His figures have not the sharpness of outline that distinguish Mozart's; they resemble rather the characters in Schiller's dramas, while Mozart's may be compared to Shakespere's.

Weber had a wonderful talent for inventing popular melodies, as he has shown in many songs. 'In Der Freischutz,' says E. T. A. Hoffmann, 'the rays of his genius scattered through innumerable songs, seem to have concentrated themselves in one focus.' Even Spohr, who as a rule found Weber's music by no means sympathetic, conceded this, though he was wrong in calling it 'the gift of writing down to the comprehension of the multitude.' The melodies in the Freischütz all catch the ear at once, but have a bewildering charm and depth as well; while within the comprehension of everybody, they fascinate the world down to the present day. These qualities are most prominent in the Lieder and Lied-like forms, in which latter the opera abounds, a point which in itself betrays the German popular element, the Lied being the original foundation of German opera. This Lied-form is introduced four times in the 1st Act, and twice in the last, besides appearing as an element of a larger whole in Agathe's aria ('Leise, leise, fromme Weise') and the finale of the 3rd Act ('Die Zukunft soll mein Herz bewähren'). These are precisely the numbers which have attained the greatest popularity. We need only mention the Bridesmaids' and Huntsmen's choruses, the waltz in the 1st Act, and the Peasants' march. This latter is taken direct from the people's music, and is an air which Weber must have heard when conducting the opera in Prague. At least, between 1816 and 1824, the musical population of Bohemia were addicted to a march, the first part of which is identical with that in Freischütz.^[62]

Perfect as are these smaller musical forms, it must in justice be conceded that Weber did not always succeed with his larger ones, which often have a sort of piecemeal effect. The construction of a piece of music in grand, full, proportions, was to him a labour, and rarely a successful one. He does not so much develop from within as superimpose from without, and not unfrequently the musical flow stagnates. The finale of the 3rd Act may be cited as an instance of his way of falling short in this respect. For the most part, however, this is only true of his music when considered simply as music, without regard to dramatic fitness, and such defects are therefore much less noticeable in performance, so accurately does he hit the appropriate musical development for each moment of the action. He has also a wonderful power of keeping up one prevailing idea throughout the piece, so that amid all the variety of successive emotions there is unity. A striking example of his ingenuity is the duet between Agathe and Aennchen in the beginning of the 2nd Act, where two wholly different and equally characteristic melodies are given in the most charming manner. For this, however, he had a model in the duet between Verbel and Florestan (à la polonaise) in 'Lodoïska,' by Cherubini, a composer to whom he looked up with great admiration.

8. The play of 'Preciosa' was adapted from a novel (1613) of Cervantes' by an actor named Pius Alexander Wolff, of Weimar, engaged in Berlin in 1816. Before Weber undertook, at Count Brühl's desire, to write music for it, he had several times used his pen in a similar way. I may mention his music for Schiller's 'Turandot,' consisting of an overture and six smaller instrumental pieces (1809); for Müllner's 'König Yngurd,' 11 Nos. (1817); and for Gehe's 'Heinrich IV,' 9 Nos. (1818), besides many smaller works of the same kind, all bearing witness to his extraordinary talent for illustrating a dramatic situation in the clearest and most distinct manner by music, and therefore of great importance in forming an estimate of his musical organisation. Personally he found this kind of work uncongenial, as affording few opportunities to the independent musician; besides which, a play may be very good as a play, without offering any incitement to a composer. Luckily, however, this was not the case with Preciosa, and with the additional incentive of his wish to please Count Brühl, a work was produced which may truly be said to rank as the finest music written for a play, after Mozart's 'König Thamos,' and Beethoven's 'Egmont.' A predilection for Spanish subjects is observable in Weber about this period, and may be attributed to the influence of Tieck. Columbus, Pizarro, Don Juan of Austria, and the Cid, all passed before him, as subjects for operas, and in 1820–21 he completed a sketch of the 1st Act, and a duet out of the 2nd, of 'Die drei Pintos,' a Spanish comic opera. This, however, he laid aside for Euryanthe and Oberon, and died without completing a work full of promise.^[63] It was, therefore, in all probability, its Spanish local colouring which attracted him to Preciosa. One of the signs of his natural gift for dramatic composition was his love for strong contrasts, not only between different parts of the same work, but between the different works he took in hand. In the Freischütz the prevailing colour was derived from the life of German foresters and huntsmen; in Preciosa we have the charm of the South in lovely Spain, then the type of all that was romantic, with the picturesque life of the roving gipsy. Euryanthe, again, takes us back to the Middle Ages, and the palmy days of French chivalry, which reappear to some extent in Oberon, mingled with scenes from Oriental life, and from fairyland. The phrase 'local colouring' in music may be defined as that which conjures up before our minds the associations connected with certain scenes, races, and epochs. Weber's unusual gift for this kind of illustration was most probably connected with the peculiar manner in which his musical faculties were set in motion. This is a point on which we are thoroughly informed by means of his own expressions preserved by his son and biographer. As a rule, it took place through external impressions, presented to his imagination as tone-pictures. As he sat in his travelling carriage, the scenery through which he passed would present itself to his inner ear as a piece of music, melodies welling up with every hill or valley, every fluttering bush, every waving field of corn. While too the forms of visible objects supplied him with melodies, any accidental sound would suggest the accompanying harmonies. These walks and drives remained fixed in his mind as pieces of music, by means of which he was in the habit of recalling the events and experiences of his life. Other composers, as we know, have been occasionally incited to production by external impressions, but while with them it was exceptional, with Weber it appears to have been the rule. With him any external impression at once clothed itself in musical form, and this peculiarity of mental constitution undoubtedly contributed to give his music its individual character. All his musical progressions reflect some external movement; indeed in this respect his art is plasticity itself. This constant striving after plasticity was what made him lay so much stress on one prevailing, sharply defined, local colour. For what end could it serve but that of bringing out the distinction between scenes, races, and epochs, heightening the contrast between his own and other representations, and giving animation and individuality to the picture as a whole?

The music to Preciosa does, no doubt, reflect the then prevailing idea of Spain, its scenery, its people, and its art. In fact, he hit the keynote of Spanish nationality in a marvellous manner. The prevailing impression is heightened by the introduction of gipsy-rhythms and Spanish national airs. Instances of the former are the march, appearing first in the overture, and then as No. 1, No. 9a, and No. 10a; of the latter the three dances forming No. 9. This method of characterisation he had made use of several times before, as in Turandot, which has a Chinese melody running all through, and in the Freischütz peasants'-march. In Oberon an Arabian and a Turkish melody are used in the same way. It is hardly necessary to remark that this use of foreign rhythms in no way detracts from the essentially German character of the music. Indeed, the Preciosa is just as distinct and faithful a reflection of the German character as Der Freischütz, and in no respect inferior to it in popularity. It is less often performed because of the difficulty of finding an actress for the part of Preciosa; but the music has become the property of the German people, with whom the part-songs, 'Im Wald,' 'Die Sonn' erwacht,' 'Es blinken so lustig die Sterne' (the well-known gipsy chorus), and Preciosa's pathetic song, 'Einsam bin ich, nicht alleine,' are prime favourites. The instrumental pieces too are popular, as Weber's music only is popular in Germany, and the melodrama 'Lächelnd sinkst du, Abend, nieder,' is justly considered one of the finest pieces of the kind that has ever been written. We may add that the Preciosa music has lately been augmented by a little dance, intended as an alternative to the first of the three contained in No. 9. True, this charming little piece does not exist in Weber's own hand, but its origin is betrayed by the resemblance to it of the first chorus in the 3rd act of Marschner's 'Templer and Jüdin.' When writing his first great opera Marschner was strongly under the influence of Weber's music which he had been hearing in Dresden, and reminiscences from it not unfrequently cropped up in his own works. Moreover, he knew the little valse to be Weber's.^[64]

9. The original source of the libretto of Euryanthe was the 'Roman de la Violette,' by Gibert de Montreuil (13th century), reprinted textually by Francisque Michel (Paris, 1834). The subject was used several times by early writers. Boccaccio borrowed from it the main incident of one of the stories of the Decameron (Second day, Ninth tale), and thence it found its way into Shakespere's 'Cymbeline.' Count Tressan remodelled it in 1780 for the 2nd vol. of the 'Bibliothèque universelle des Romans,' and in 1804 it was published at Leipzig, under the title 'Die geschichte der tugendsamen Euryanthe von Savoyen,' in the collection of mediæval romantic poems edited by Schlegel. The translator was Helmina von Chezy, who compiled the libretto for Weber. After completing the latter she republished her translation, with many alterations.^[65]

The libretto has been much abused, and when we consider that it was remodelled nine times, and at last brought into shape only by Weber's own vigorous exertions, it is evident that the authoress was not competent to create a dramatic masterpiece. It does not follow that with the help of Weber's ability and experience she was not able to concoct something tolerable for the purpose. The utter inadequacy of her poem having been reiterated ad nauseam, the time seems to have arrived for setting forth the opposite view, and maintaining that it is on the whole a good, and in some respects an excellent, libretto. It is curious to see the naïf way in which for the last hundred years German critics have been in the habit of considering the libretto and the music of an opera as two distinct things, the one of which may be condemned and the other extolled, as if a composer had no sort of responsibility with regard to the words he sets, 'Do you suppose that any proper composer will allow a libretto to be put into his hand like an apple?' are Weber's own words. It is moreover obvious that a libretto which satisfied a man of such high culture, and a composer of so eminently dramatic organisation, could not have been utterly bad. Nevertheless, till lately the verdict against Euryanthe was all but unanimous. The first who ventured to speak a decided word in its favour is Gustav Engel. He says, 'Euryanthe is an opera full of human interest. Truth and a fine sense of honour, jealousy and envy, mortified love and ambition, above all the most intense womanly devotion—such are its leading motives. There is indeed one cardinal mistake, which is that when Euryanthe is accused of infidelity in the 2nd Act, she remains silent, instead of explaining the nature of her comparatively small offence. This may however arise from the confusion into which so pure and maidenly a nature is thrown by the suddenness of the fate which overwhelms her. In the main, however, the story is a good one, though it starts with some rather strong assumptions.' The 'cardinal error,' however, is no error at all, but a trait in perfect keeping with Euryanthe's character. It is more difficult to understand why she does not find the opportunity to enlighten Adolar, when he has dragged her off into the wilderness in the 3rd Act. Other plausible objections are the too great intricacy of the story, and its being partly founded on events which do not come within the range of the plot, viz. the story of Emma and Udo. Weber was aware of this defect, and intended to remedy it by making the curtain rise at the slow movement of the overture, and disclose the following tableau:—'The interior of Emma's tomb; a kneeling statue is beside her coffin, which is surmounted by a 12th-century baldacchino. Euryanthe prays by the coffin, while the spirit of Emma hovers overhead. Eglantine looks on.' This excellent idea has unfortunately been carried out at one or two theatres only. The degrading nature of the bet on Euryanthe's fidelity can only be excused on the score of the manners of the period (about 1110). The language is occasionally stilted and affected, but much of the verse is as melodious as a composer could desire, and in this respect merits ought to be allowed to counterbalance defects.

The opera contains four principal characters, Adolar and Lysiart, Euryanthe and Eglantine. Eglantine has most vitality, the others being types rather than individuals; but this would be no defect in Weber's eyes, being, as we have seen, in accordance with his own mode of treating his personages. The poem abounds in opportunities for the descriptive writing in which he so much delighted and excelled. Now we are in a brilliant court, with victorious troops of cavaliers marching home from the battle-field, and offering their homage to beautiful ladies, and to love. Then, in a lonely castle-garden, in the silent repose of a summer evening, with a love-lorn maiden pining for her absent knight. Then again in a forest glade with shimmering moonlight, murmuring waters, and the forsaken one longing for death. Next we witness a savage brawl breaking out between rival knights, and hear the clash of swords as they rush together. And in and out all the time the spirit-world is weaving its invisible threads. Each of these situations Weber could fit with its appropriate expression, as no one else had ever been able to do before him, for he it was indeed who created the musical language for them. And it is on these situations, so varied, and so well contrasted, but all steeped in glow and fragrance, that the main interest of the opera is concentrated. The characters are not the main attraction, they seem mere condensations of the poetry of the situation, and are carried along by the scene, rather than work it out for themselves. Euryanthe, like all Weber's operas, is an epic procession, an enchanted panorama, representing the life of one special period, that of mediæval chivalry. Looked at from this point of view it can be thoroughly enjoyed.^[66]

Euryanthe is Weber's sole grand opera, both because it is without spoken dialogue, and because it is much the fullest and longest. He meant to put his best into it, and he did. 'It is his heart's blood,' says Robert Schumann,^[67] 'the very best of which he was capable. The opera cost him a piece of his life, but it has made him immortal. From end to end it is one chain of sparkling gems.' There is no question that Euryanthe is richer, more, varied, deeper, grander, than all the rest of Weber's dramatic works. All that gives distinction to Der Freischütz is found here again; Lieder at once dignified and easily comprehensible, melodies genuine in feeling and full of fire, orchestral colouring as new as it is charming, instrumentation both bold and spirituel, an intuitive grasp of the situation and complete mastery in treating it, such as genius alone is capable of. Only the modes of expression are more refined; Der Freischütz deals with the simple, hearty life of the peasantry and forest folk, Euryanthe with the highest grades of society. To make this clear compare 'Die Thale dampfen, and 'Was gleicht wohl auf Erden'; 'Der Mai bringt frische Blumen dar,' ad 'Wir winden dir den Jungfernkranz'; 'Glöcklein im Thale,' and 'Und ob die Wolke'; Adolar's song 'Unter blühenden Mandelbäume,' and Max's aria 'Durch die Walder.' 'Glöcklein in Thale' may be quoted as an example of the most delicious melody shrouded in superb orchestral colouring. It would be impossible to paint both the character and the situation more vividly. In the scena and cavatina in the 3rd Act, where Euryanthe is abandoned in the wilderness, the colours are mixed quite differently. The long wailing notes of the solo bassoon, and the solitary flute wandering aimlessly about, incline one to re-echo Schumann's words, 'What a sound comes from the instruments! they speak to us from the very depths of all being.' The accompaniment to 'Hier dicht am Quell,' consisting only of the string-quartet and one bassoon, but producing the most extraordinary effect of sound, is a striking example of what genius can do with small means. Quite different again is the colouring for Euryanthe's narrative in the 1st Act; four muted solo-violins, whose long sustained notes are supported by quivering violins and violas, also muted, with stifled moans from low flutes, suggest a spectral form, only half visible in the moonlight, hovering overhead and muttering words which die away indistinctly on the breeze.

Each of the four principal characters has its own language, to which it adheres strictly throughout the opera, and which is accentuated by the orchestral colouring employed liberally, though not exclusively, for the purpose. As we have previously remarked, one prevailing tone runs through the whole opera, sharply distinguishing it from any other of Weber's.

One point in which the music of Euryanthe is far superior to that of Der Freischütz is in the use of the larger dramatic forms. Here we have grand recitative, full of expression, passion, and movement, such as had come from no German pen since Gluck's; grand arias, duets, ensemble-pieces, and splendidly constructed finales. The Lied- or cavatina-form is used freely for the parts of Adolar and Euryanthe; but Lysiart and Eglantine never express themselves except in the grand dramatic forms, and the higher the passion rises the more exclusively do these two characters occupy the stage. In this respect the 2nd Act is the climax. Here we have one grand form after another; Lysiart's scena ed aria, his duet with Eglantine; Adolar's air, in such wonderful contrast, and the duet with Euryanthe; lastly the finale, in which a perfect tempest of passions seems let loose. The 3rd Act also has dramatic forms of the first order, especially Euryanthe's air, 'Zu ihm, und weilet nicht,' with the chorus ending diminuendo (a very striking point) and the duet and chorus with the clashing swords 'Trotze nicht, Vermessener.' Weber's large dramatic pieces are freer as regards form than Mozart's, because he follows the poet more closely, almost indeed word by word. Nor can it be said that there are no little roughnesses, or bits of dull or unformed work, but any such are completely submerged in the overwhelming flood of beauties.

One reason why Euryanthe has never been as popular as Weber's other operas, or those of Mozart, is because of its high strain of pathos, unrelieved from the first note to the last. This was noticed by Rochlitz, who found the first per formance in Leipzig very fatiguing, and after it remained 'for most of the night in a fever, though indeed not an unpleasant one.' Another reason is the extreme difficulty of the work. It requires four singers, two men and two women, of the first rank, both in capabilities and endurance; as well as a first-rate orchestra prepared to give the closest and most intelligent rendering. Thus good performances of Euryanthe are rare, which is to be regretted from all points of view, for it is the culminating point of romantic opera. Neither Spohr, Marschner, nor any later composer has produced a work fulfilling all the requirements of romantic opera in so masterly a manner. It is one of the most prominent landmarks of sub-classic art, if not the most prominent.

10. Although Weber wrote his last opera at the request of Kemble, he chose the subject himself, and was aware how completely it suited his own individuality. Since the publication of Wieland's poem in 1780, two German operas had been composed on Oberon. The first, Wranitzky's (1790), was one of those childish fairy-pieces, whose lively music, harlequin-tricks, scene-painting, and machinery, were long the delight of the simple-minded people of Vienna. The other, composed for Copenhagen (1790, with the second title of 'Holger Danske') by Kunzen, Gluck's talented successor, and J. F. Reichardt's friend, was a far more serious work, and can be spoken of in connection with Weber's, though the latter put it so completely into the background as virtually to obliterate it.

Weber's librettist, Planché, likewise worked on Wieland's Oberon, or rather on Sotheby's translation. Though satisfied with the poem in detail, Weber could not reconcile himself to English opera as such. 'The cut of an English opera is certainly very different from a German one; the English is more a drama with songs,' he writes (in English) to Planché on Jan. 6, 1825; and again on Feb. 19, 'I must repeat that the cut of the whole is very foreign to all my ideas and maxims. The intermixing of so many principal actors who do not sing, the omission of the music in the most important moments—all deprive our Oberon of the title of an opera, and will make him unfit for all other theatres in Europe.' These words contain a very just criticism on the libretto. The continual change of scene, which keeps the spectator in a state of restlessness, is certainly a mistake. Weber intended to remodel the opera for Germany, when he would have put it into a form more in accordance with his own ideas, giving the music a larger share in the course of the plot, but simplifying the plot so that it should run more smoothly and consecutively. Whether he would also have endeavoured to strengthen the dramatic interest is doubtful. As it stands it is an epic poem dramatised, rather than a drama. But no subject dealing with fairyland can admit of dramatic treatment beyond a limited extent, for the characters, instead of moving independently, and of their own free will, act under the guidance of supernatural powers, who visibly interfere with their destiny on all occasions. Weber required not so much characters full of dramatic action, as suggestive situations and picturesque scenes, and these Planché's libretto supplied to the full. That he had the German form in his mind all the time he was setting the English, is evident from the fact that he had each number, as fast as he composed it, translated by Theodor Hell, of Dresden, instructing him to make the words correspond as closely as possible to the melody. Hell's workmanship was not of the best, and Weber was too much occupied to correct all his blunders. One glaring instance occurs in Reiza's grand scena ('Ocean, thou mighty monster'); a beam from the setting sun parts the storm-clouds, and she exclaims, 'And now the sun bursts forth,' which Hell translates, 'Und nun die Sonn' geht auf' (rises). Thus the astonished spectator, having been told that it is morning, shortly beholds the sun set in the same quarter from which it has just risen. Nevertheless the passage is always so sung in Germany, and the absurdity, if noticed at all, is laid at the door of the English librettist. Weber got his translator to make a reduction in the number of the personages introduced. In the quartet, 'Over the dark blue waters,' Planché gave the bass to a sea-captain, and in the duet, 'On the banks of sweet Garonne,' associated a Greek fellow-slave with Fatima, in both cases because the original Sherasmin was a poor singer. These makeshifts find no place in the German version, or in the English revival at Her Majesty's in 1860. Then again, the song 'Yes, even love to fame must yield,' composed in London for Braham in place of 'From boyhood trained in battle-field,' is omitted in the German, while another addition, the prayer in the 2nd Act, 'Ruler of this awful hour,' is retained. The first was a concession on the part of the composer, who did not care for this 'battle-picture'; but he saw that the prayer was not only a passage of great beauty, but materially strengthened the part of Huon.^[68]

The music to Oberon, though the work of a man dying by inches, bears no traces of mental exhaustion. Indeed it is delightfully fresh and original throughout, and entirely different from all the rest of Weber's compositions. The keynote of the whole is its picture of the mysteries of Elf-land, and the life of the spirits of air, earth, and water. True, this note is touched in Der Freischütz and Euryanthe, but in Oberon it is struck with full force, and vibrates with an almost intoxicating sweetness. What Weber did in this direction was absolutely new, and a valuable addition to his art, and many composers have followed in the same track. His melody, the chords of his harmony, the figures employed, the effects of colour so totally unexpected—all combine to waft us with mysterious power into an unknown land. Anybody acquainted with the Adagio of the overture will see what we mean. Of a charm almost unparalleled is the introduction to the 1st Act, with the elves flitting hither and thither, softly singing as they keep watch over Oberon's slumbers. The 2nd Act is specially rich in delicious pictures of nature, now in her tender and dreamy, now in her savage and sublime, moods.^[69] Puck's invocation of the spirits, the roar of the tempest—the most powerful representation of a storm in music excepting Beethoven's in the Pastoral Symphony—the magnificent picture in Reiza's grand scena of the gradual calming of the waves beneath the rays of the setting sun; lastly, the finale, with the mermaids' bewildering song, and the elves dancing in the moonlight on the strand,—these are musical treasures which have not yet been exhausted. Mendelssohn, Gade, Bennett, drew the inspiration for their romantic scenes of a similar kind from 'Oberon,' but none of them have attained the depth or the individuality of their prototype. Even Schumann trod in his footsteps in isolated passages of 'Paradise and the Peri,' the ballad 'Vom Pagen und der Königstochter,' and 'Manfred.' Of German opera composers I say nothing; their imitation of him is patent.

Through the hazy atmosphere of this land of sprites and fairies, we discern the outlined features of two contrasting races and countries Western chivalry and Oriental life. In the finale of the 1st Act, the opening of the 2nd, and the dance of slaves in the 3rd, we have, sketched by a master-hand, the dullness, inertness, and yet imaginativeness of the Oriental disposition. The melody sung by the guard of the harem in the 1st Act is Arabian, that in the 3rd Act at the commencement of the dance of Almanzor's slaves, Turkish, both used with great skill to give a local colouring. From the mass of these stupid, indolent, sensual Orientals, Reiza and Fatima stand out with all the greater charm. They seem in a sense the embodiment of all that is beautiful in the East, and their connection with the Frankish knights forms a link between the East and West. The brilliant and energetic knights form the strongest contrast to the Orientals. This is suggested with irresistible force in the Allegro of the overture, and further emphasised in the body of the opera, in Huon's grand air in E♭ ('I revel in hope') and the splendid march at the close. In Euryanthe Weber had already shown his gift for the chevalresque, but it comes out here with a difference. 'In Oberon,' as Rochlitz well puts it, 'the leading characteristics are gentleness, friendly feeling, and cheerfulness, with no lack of energy, spirit, or movement. The general impression is not exciting, agitating, disturbing, but elevating, soothing, and calming.' Had Weber been permitted to complete the German revision, it might possibly have been the crown of all his operas? As it is, its immortality is assured.^[70]

11. Next after Weber's operas come into consideration his Lieder, the Lied-form playing, as was natural with a German, so important a part in his operas. His Lieder bear unmistakable traces of that dramatic element which runs through everything he wrote. He left 78 German Lieder for single voice with PF. or guitar accompaniment, besides two or three Italian canzonets, a French romance, and a song from Lalla Rookh, 'From Chindara's warbling fount I come,' his last composition, with the accompaniment merely sketched in.^[71] We do not include his 10 Scotch airs arranged with accompaniment for PF., flute, violin, and cello. Among the part-songs should be singled out 16 Lieder for men's voices, and 3 Volkslieder for 2 voices with accompaniment.

The poets from whom Weber took his words are Matthison, Herder, Bürger, Voss, Kotzebue, Tieck, Schenkendorf, and Körner. Of these, with the exception of Körner, he set but one or two, sometimes only one, poem apiece. Goethe's name does not appear at all, which, considering the antipathy between the two, may not have been accidental. Unknown or unimportant writers of verse, such as Muchler, Gubitz, Kannegiesser, occur pretty frequently. The greater part of the verses composed by him, and the finest, are Volkslieder.

It was at the suggestion of Vogler that Weber first made a study of the songs of the people, and this study, added to his own intuitive perception of what was intrinsically good and individual in popular music, enabled him to hit off the characteristic tone of the Volkslied as nobody had done before. 'Mein Schatz ist auf die Wanderschaft hin,' 'Herzchen, mein Schätzchen, bist tausendmal mein,' 'Wenn ich ein Vöglein war,' 'Ich hab' mir eins erwahlet,' 'O Berlin, ich muss dich lassen,' 'Sie nichts mit den alten Weibern,' are songs in which every variety of feeling is expressed with a freshness and originality rarely met with. His musical treatment too of songs in dialect, especially those of a humorous or rollicking character, was excellent; instances are 'Trariro, der Sommer, der ist do,' 'Mein Schatzerl is hübsch,' and 'I und mein junges Weib.' The form of these songs is most simple, and generally strophical; the accompaniment frequently for the guitar. This simplicity is their greatest merit, and though the taste of the day is unfavourable to simple songs, and Weber's have been cast into the shade by Schubert's and Schumann's magnificent songs with their almost orchestral treatment, they are not lost to the musical world, but bear the stamp of imperishability.

Besides these Lieder Weber composed other songs of a more ambitious character, with PF. accompaniment, each stanza having a different melody. In this branch of composition he is, next to Beethoven, the earliest great master. There is, however, an essential difference between his songs and those not only of Beethoven, but of Schubert, Mendelssohn, and Schumann, his being all more or less of a dramatic character. His genius spread its wings best when he had a distinct character, or a sharply-defined situation, to portray. It is a significant fact that some of the most charming of his strophical songs were written for interpolation into plays, 'Ueber die Berge mit Ungestüm,' and 'Lass mich schlummern, Herzlein, schweige,' for instance. It is only by keeping steadfastly in view a certain personage, or picturing a certain scene, that one is fully able to realise the intended impression. It is most remarkable to see how much the music assists the imagination in this respect. Take, for instance, Voss's 'Reigen'; in a moment the whole picture of a village fair in full swing rises up before one's mind's eye. The extraordinary flexibility of his musical speech stood Weber in good stead here. Not only did it enable him to adapt his vocal melodies to each rise and fall in the words, but it gave him, to a degree hitherto unknown, the power of choosing the precise notes, or series of notes, vocal and instrumental, fitted to impress on the hearer some mental picture called up by perhaps a single word. A perfect model of composition in this kind is the Lied—one of his finest indeed in all respects—'Das Mädchen an das erste Schneeglöckchen.' Not that Weber ever degenerates into mere declamation; his songs are always good in form, with a flowing, well-connected melody. Well aware of this plasticity he ventured on poems of involved construction, by no means easily adaptable to music. For instance, he managed a triolet ('Keine Lust ohn' treues Lieben') with great skill, and his are the first completely successful settings of the sonnet ('Du liebes, holdes, himmelsusses Wesen,' and 'Die Wunde brennt, die bleichen Lippen beben'). Among his characteristic pieces for single voice and PF. may be specified 'Die vier Temperamente,' and, above all, the delicious 'Unbefangenheit' ('Frage mich immer, fragest umsonst'), a sketch of a merry, saucy, roguish, but tender-hearted girl, and truly a chef d'œuvre. Thus Weber's vocal compositions contain the two main elements of which German opera is constituted—the Lied and the dramatic song. These too appear in turn in the ten splendid songs from Körner's 'Leyer und Schwert,' four of which are for single voice and PF., and six for male chorus unaccompanied. Of the single songs, 'Vater ich rufe dich' and 'Die Wunde brennt,' are magnificent tone-pictures in Weber's own style. Even in the strophical choruses there are touches of great power. The beginning of 'Du Schwert an meiner Linken' rings like a sword-thrust. 'Lützow's wilde Jagd' contains a complete dramatic scene within a single stanza of 21 bars. The horsemen plunge forward out of the forest gloom, rush by in tearing haste, shout one wild hurrah, and are gone.^[72]

12. It has often been felt as a difficulty that Weber should pass straight from such operas as Silvana and Abu Hassan to a masterpiece like Der Freischütz. One explanation of this sudden and startling progress may probably be found in the songs which were his main occupation from 1811 to 1817. Another important landmark is the cantata Kampf und Sieg (1815). This is not a cantata in the modern sense—i.e. an essentially lyric vocal piece but one rather in the sense of the 17th and 18th centuries, when the word signified solo songs representing a specific character in a specific situation. The only difference was that Weber employed the full resources of solo-singers, chorus, and orchestra. The central idea is the battle of Waterloo, with various episodes grouped round it, and a grand chorus, 'Herr Gott dich loben wir,' as finale. The description of the battle forms what we should now call a grand dramatic scene, an opera finale, only without action. It is led up to by warlike choruses, animating the battalions as they muster to the fight. Even the arming of the Austrian troops is indicated by the Austrian Grenadiers' March heard in the distance. A wild march announces the approach of Napoleon's army, while the Germans sing Körner's solemn prayer:—

Wie auch die Hölle braust, Gott, deine starke Faust Stürzt das Gebäude der Lüge. Führ uns, Herr Zebaoth, Führ uns, dreieinger Gott, Führ uns zur Schlacht und zum Siege.

As rage the powers of hell, God, let Thy mighty hand Falsehood's stronghold o'erthrow. Lead us, Lord God of Hosts Lead us, Thou triune God, Lead us to strife and victory.

The battle, which then commences, is at first left entirely to the orchestra. The day is going against the Allies. The French tune 'Ça ira' is heard shrilling out wildly and triumphantly above the other instruments, while broken ejaculations, such as 'Des Feindes Spott!' ('Sport of our foes!') 'O Höllengraun!' ('O horror!') 'Verlässt Du Gott, die Dir vertraun?' ('Wilt Thou, God, forsake those who trust in Thee?') burst from the allies scattered about the field. The tumult is just dying away, when lo! the Prussian horns, first faint in the distance, then louder and louder; the Chorus listens,

Auf Windes Flügeln Sprengts von den Hügeln Die Flur entlang! Die Fahnen wallen, Die Hörnor schallen.

On wings of the wind Down from the hills It rushes along the plain! The banners wave, The trumpets blare.

and then bursts into the air of Weber's Lied, 'Lützows wilde Jagd,' to the words

O Himmelslust nach Todesdrang,
Das ist Preussens muthiger Schlachtgesang!

O heavenly joy from deadly pain,
Tis Prussia's rousing battle-song!

This passage, and the redoubled violence with which the onslaught is renewed, produce a dramatic effect of the strongest kind. From this point the voices are employed continually. The 'Ça ira,' at first so loud and bold, is now, as it were, hustled and put down by the rest of the orchestra; it is at length wholly silenced, the enemy flies with the victors at his heels, till at last 'God save the King!'^[73] peals solemnly forth from the orchestra, and the colossal tone-picture is at an end. The same dramatic treatment may be discerned in all the episodical pieces, especially the orchestral introduction, which is not an abstract piece of music, but is intended as a picture of the state of mind of the nations, who, after a brief foretaste of peace, are again plunged into the horrors of war by Napoleon's return from Elba. 'The introduction is of a rugged, stormy, mournful, angry spirit, broken in its accents; rising in force towards the end, and dying in dry, hard, sullen strokes.' So says Weber in his explanatory notice written for the first performance at Prague.^[74] The closing chorus alone is wholly lyric in character; though not absolutely free from technical imperfections, it is full of fire and inspiration, and contains some grand passages. The cantata however as a whole too far exceeds ordinary limits to take its due place in the concert-room. There is in it a certain contradiction of styles. Although at first frequently performed, and never failing to make a great impression, it has gradually slipped out of the musical world, now that the events which gave it birth are less vividly remembered. The 'Leyer und Schwert' choruses are still in full life, because they are in all respects true to their species. And yet the enthusiasm for liberty, with all its impetuosity and all its pathos, is expressed quite as forcibly in the cantata. Its popularity may be less great, but it is an even more valuable piece of evidence for the history of Weber's development as a dramatic composer.

13. Between 1810 and 1815 Weber wrote six grand Concert-airs with Italian words, and these also have their share in explaining the extraordinary maturity of 'Der Freischütz.' Several are of high artistic merit, notably the fourth ('Signor, se padre sei'), composed in 1812 for Prince Frederic of Gotha.^[75] It is written for tenor and double chorus, and is in fact a grand dramatic scena. None of these Italian airs however come up to a German scena written in 1818 for insertion in Cherubini's 'Lodoiska.' It was intended for Frau Milder-Hauptmann, then in Berlin, and was to be the 1st number in the 2nd act. It is a work of the first rank, and of itself proves that the creator of 'Der Freischütz' had now attained his full stature. How it comes to be now wholly forgotten it is difficult to understand.

14. Among Weber's remaining vocal compositions we have still some Cantatas and the two Masses to consider. 'Der Erste Ton' (1818), words by Rochlitz, must be mentioned among the cantatas, although the term scarcely applies to it. The greater part of the poem is declaimed to an orchestral accompaniment, but a 4-part chorus is introduced near the end. The form is peculiar and new. It cannot be called a melodrama, because the poem is narrative and not dramatic. The nearest approach to it is in some of the descriptive recitatives in Haydn's oratorios. The descriptive part of the music shows already, though indistinctly, that plasticity which he was presently to make use of in such an incomparable way. The closing chorus does not satisfy the requirements of art, and Weber himself spoke of it as 'rough' part-writing. Another hymn of Rochlitz' s, 'In seiner Ordnung schafft der Herr,' is a fine work of art. It was composed in 1812, and dedicated to the 'Musik-Gesellschaft' of Zürich, which had elected him an honorary member. At first the composer has evidently had difficulty in warming to his work, on account of the half-dogmatic, half-descriptive nature of the words; and the hearer, though occasionally interested, is not carried away by the earlier movements. The introduction of the chorale 'Drum lerne still dich fassen' (to the tune of 'Haupt voll Blut und Wunden') is scarcely to be justified on æsthetic grounds. But then comes the chorus 'Gelobt sei Gott,' and all that has hitherto failed to please is forgotten, and the hearer swept away in the rushing torrent of foamy music. The fugue of this chorus, 'Im Wettersturm, im Wogendrang,' is a character-piece of the first rank. To criticise each detail of this polyphonic movement would be pedantic; it is a work of genius, and its flashing enthusiasm bears comparison, at a distance of course, to certain parts of Beethoven's 9th Symphony.^[76]

Of the six occasional cantatas composed for the Court of Saxony, the Jubel-Cantata, written for the 50th anniversary of Friedrich August's accession (1818) is the most important, both in size and matter. The four choral movements, Nos. 1, 4, 7, and 9 are ripe examples of Weber's talent for delineating a specific situation, and make one regret that the work as a whole, from the circumstances of its origin, is unavailable for general use. It is essentially a Saxon, nay, almost a Dresden composition, and no sympathy is now felt for Friedrich August. Wendt's attempt to turn it into a harvest cantata proved fairly successful in one or two cases, especially Nos. 4 and 7; but the music is, as a rule, too closely wedded to the words to be divorced from them, unless at great sacrifice.^[77]

15. As to Weber's Masses, those acquainted with the state of Catholic church-music at the beginning of the 19th century will not expect to find them written in a pure church-style. Church music of this description is now almost a thing of the past; in the great centres it is entirely tabooed in favour of the music of the 15th and 16th centuries. Under these circumstances Weber's masses have little prospect of revival. They are probably never heard except in the Hofkirche of Dresden, and rarely there, and are bound to succumb to the fate which has overtaken those of Haydn, Mozart, and Hummel. Fine music they contain in abundance. As previously mentioned, they were produced within a short time of each other, in 1818 and 1819. After Weber's fashion they contrast sharply with each other, while each has one prevailing tone running consistently through to the end. 1818 being the 5Oth year of the king's reign, he gave to the E♭ mass a tone of solemnity and splendour noticeable specially in the Sanctus. That in G, being for a family festival, is quite idyllic in character. 'I mean to keep before myself,' he wrote to Rochlitz, 'the idea of a happy family party kneeling in prayer, and rejoicing before the Lord as His children.' It is worth while to examine the mass, and see how this idea is worked out. The Kyrie, Sanctus (with an exquisite Benedictus), and Agnus Dei, are delightful music. Occasional suggestions of well-known passages in his operas jar on a modern ear, but a composer is scarcely to be blamed for retaining his identity, even in a mass. His love of contrast, and habit of never remaining long occupied with one musical idea, give these pieces a somewhat restless and piecemeal effect, and for this reason those who were accustomed to Haydn's and Mozart's masses felt these too 'secular.'^[78]

16. When a youth of twenty Weber wrote two Symphonies, clever and to a certain extent interesting, but parti-coloured and without form. The indications they gave of his future position as an orchestral composer were very inadequate, and in later years they by no means satisfied himself. Of wholly different import are his ten overtures, Peter Schmoll (remodelled 1807 as 'Grande Ouverture à plusieurs instruments'), Rübezahl (remodelled 1811 as 'Ouverture zum Beherrscher der Geister,' 'Ruler of the Spirits'), 'Ouverture Chinesa' (remodelled 1819 for Turandot), Silvana, Abu Hassan, Jubelouverture, Freischütz, Preciosa, Euryanthe, and Oberon. Of these, Peter Schmoll and Silvana are unimportant and immature. In Turandot the local colouring furnished by a Chinese air is pushed into an extreme which becomes ugly. The remaining seven are amongst the finest, and excepting perhaps Rübezahl and Abu Hassan, the most popular pieces in the world. They hold a middle position between simple introductions and abstract orchestral works, sounding equally well in the concert-room and the theatre. This they share with the overtures of Mozart and Cherubini, while much of the effect of Beethoven's, and the whole of the effect of Schumann's Genoveva and Manfred is lost when played on the stage. There are, however, important differences of style between these overtures and those of Mozart and Cherubini. This is not so much because Weber constructed them out of the materials of the opera, though some have with great injustice gone so far as to maintain that they are mere elegant potpourris. Each is a complete conception,—and some unimportant passages apart—carved out of one block. That what looks like mosaic may have been constructed organically is proved by Cherubini's 'Anacreon' overture, in which—a little-known fact—there is not a single bar not contained in the opera. Weber's natural way of working was not to develop continuously, but to proceed from one strong contrast to another. His musical ideas are seldom adapted for thematic treatment, being always full of meaning, but with few capacities of development. The instant one idea is given out decisively it calls up another absolutely opposed to it. Illustrations of this may be found in the opening of the Rübezahl overture, as well as in the E♭ movement of the Allegro in that to 'Der Freischütz.' This method of progression by continual contrasts is undoubtedly the sign-manual of Weber's dramatic genius; and to it his works owe as much of their stimulating effect and fascination, as they do to the variety, tenderness, and brilliancy of the instrumentation.

17. This explains why Weber produced so little chamber-music. The quiet thoughtfulness, the refinements of instrumental polyphony, the patient unravelling and metamorphosing of a subject, which are the essence of this branch of art, were not congenial to one who liked to be up and away. He did not write a single string quartet; and his PF. quartet, string quintet with clarinet, and trio for PF., cello, and flute, are, for him, unimportant compositions, and not always in the true chamber-music style. Jähns appositely observes that the trio is pastoral in character, and the last three movements almost dramatic. By this he means not so much that the composer had in his mind specific figures or scenes, but that the subjects are almost like spoken phrases, and the contrasts singularly life-like. Many movements of Beethoven's chamber-music were inspired by some definite poetical idea (as the adagios of the quartets in F major (No. 1) and E minor), but these are all genuine chamber-music. The third movement of the trio, headed 'Schäfers-Klage' (Shepherd's Lament), is a series of clever variations on a simple melody of eight bars. I believe—though Jähns does not agree with me—that this is the air of a real Lied, and suspect it to be a setting of Goethe's 'Da droben auf jenem Berge,' but whether Weber's or not we have at present no means of determining. Amongst his chamber-music must not be forgotten six sonatas for PF. and violin, published in 1811. Though of modest dimensions, and occasionally somewhat immature, they contain a host of charming thoughts; the ideal they aim at is not high, but they form the most delightful drawing-room music possible.

18. As the reader will perceive, we do not class Weber's Piano compositions with his chamber-music. Here our verdict must be wholly different. Weber was one of the greatest and most original pianists of his day. After his thorough grounding when a boy he never became the pupil of any of the principal virtuosi, and all the finishing part of his education was his own work. He formed himself neither on Clementi nor Hummel; indeed, his feeling with regard to the latter was one of decided opposition. After hearing him in Vienna in 1813, he wrote in his diary, 'Hummel improvised—dry but correct.' After a concert of Hummel's in 1816, Weber wrote that 'Hummel seemed to set the most store on plenty of runs executed with great clearness. Drawing out and developing the higher resources of the instrument, he perhaps undervalues too much.'^[79] In private letters he spoke still more openly, saying plainly that 'Hummel had not made a study of the nature of the pianoforte.' This he himself had done most thoroughly, and in consequence obtained a number of effects at once new and thoroughly in accordance with the nature of the instrument. This was the principal cause of the unexpectedness which was so striking in his playing, besides its brilliancy, fire, and expression. Wide stretches, easy to his long flexible fingers, bold jumps from one part of the keyboard to another, rapid passages of thirds for one hand (the E♭ concerto), or of thirds, sixths, and octaves for both, runs with accompanying chords for the same hand (first movement of the sonata in C)—such are some of his technical resources, all of real value because used to express really new ideas. His pianoforte style also shows, within reasonable limits, a leaning to the orchestral. For instance, in the finale of the Sonata in D minor he must certainly have had the cello and clarinet in mind when he wrote the cantabile and the still more beautiful counter-subject. Again, in the first movement of the Sonata in C his mental ear has evidently been filled with the sound of the orchestra from bar 4.

The four Sonatas (in C, A♭, D minor, and E minor), are pronounced by Marx to excel in some respects even the sonatas of Beethoven. This is going too far. In perfection of form Weber is always far behind Beethoven, and though his ideas may be equally original, they are far less solid, and not so varied. His sonatas therefore cannot be considered models of the type, which Beethoven's are in the highest degree. They are rather fantasias in sonata-form, and their very irregularities give them a kind of air of improvisation, which is their chief charm. Ambros says, 'They blossom like an enchanted garden of romance. The paths of such gardens generally lead into a wilderness, where a wealth of gorgeous ideas is crowded together among heterogeneous roulades, like delicious fruits among exotic foliage and luxuriant creepers.' The same contrast is discoverable between the sonatas in themselves. Each has its distinctive character, consistently maintained throughout. When we say that no one of Beethoven's sonatas resembles another, we mean something quite different from this. The divergence between his various creations goes far deeper; with Weber certain favourite phrases are frequently repeated, and his sphere of ideas is far less extensive. His sonatas contrast more in form and colour than in essence; in each he gives us his whole self, but from a different point of view.

Next to the sonatas in importance are his ten sets of Variations.^[80] Weber did not attempt—as Bach did in the 'Goldberg' variations, or Beethoven in the 'Eroica' ones, and those on Diabelli's waltz—to enlarge the bounds of variation, but clung to the simple old-fashioned form. This makes it all the more wonderful that he could cram so much that was new within such narrow limits. In the invention of new figures and striking harmonies he is inexhaustible, and—a main point—each has its own distinctive and sharply-defined stamp. His dramatic genius never left him. His variations on 'Vien quà, Dorina bella,' op. 7; on 'A peine au sortir de l'enfance,' op. 28; and on 'Schöne Minka,' op. 40, are among the finest specimens of the kind.

His talent shone most conspicuously whenever he had a poetical idea to interpret musically, and nowhere do we see this more clearly than in his two Polonaises, in E♭ and E, and above all in his 'Invitation to the Waltz,' known all over the world. The 'Rondo brilliant' op. 62, and the 'Momento capriccioso,' op. 12, though not unattractive, scarcely come up to the other three pieces. Of pianoforte music for four hands his only examples are op. 3, 10, and 60, containing 6, 6, and 8 pieces respectively. Beethoven scarcely ever wrote for four hands, and Mozart but seldom. Speaking generally, Schubert ranks as the founder of modern four-hand pianoforte music, but before his day Weber had produced his op. 60, a collection of little pieces which for invention, and fascination of sound, do not yield to Schubert's best work of the kind.

19. Finally Weber takes high rank as a composer of Concertos. As a pianist it was of course an object to him to find scope for his own instrument with an orchestra. Of his three concertos the one in F minor, op. 79 (Concertstück) is to this day a stock-piece with virtuosi, and has left its mark on later composers. Mendelssohn would probably not have written his G minor concerto, but for this predecessor. Not the least of its many attractions is its form (Larghetto, Allegro, March, Finale), diverging so materially from that of all previous concertos. Then too, though complete in itself as a piece of music, it is prompted by a poetical idea, for a whole dramatic scene was in the composer's mind when he wrote it. What this was we are told by Benedict, who on the morning of the first performance of 'Der Freischütz' sat listening with Weber's wife, while he played them the Concertstück then just finished.

The Chatelaine sits all alone on her balcony gazing far away into the distance. Her knight has gone to the Holy Land. Years have passed by, battles have been fought. Is he still alive? will she ever see him again? Her excited imagination calls up a vision of her husband lying wounded and forsaken on the battlefield. Can she not fly to him, and die by his side. She falls back unconscious. But hark! what notes are those in the distance? Over there in the forest something flashes in the sunlight—nearer and nearer. Knights and squires with the cross of the Crusaders, banners waving, acclamations of the people; and there—it is he! She sinks into his arms. Love is triumphant. Happiness without end. The very woods and waves sing the song of love; a thousand voices proclaim his victory.'^[81]

The part which the different movements take in this programme is obvious enough. The music is quite independent of the idea which prompted it, but a knowledge of the programme adds greatly to the pleasure of listening; and the fact of his having composed in this manner is an interesting point in the study of Weber's idiosyncrasy.

The other two concertos, in C and E♭, have been unduly neglected for the Concert-stück. The former, composed in 1810, is indeed not so brilliant, but its delightfully original finale would alone make it a valuable work. The other owes its origin apparently to Beethoven's Concerto in E♭. This came out in February 1811, and we learn from Weber's diary that he bought a copy in Leipzig on Jan. 14, 1812. His own concerto in E♭ was finished in December of the same year at Gotha. The choice of the key, the remote key of B major for the Adagio, and still closer resemblances between parts of the movements of the two, show how deep an impression Beethoven's work had made on the younger artist. Still it was only suggestion, and did not affect Weber's identity. The differences between the two will be found quite as decided as the resemblances.

20. When once Mozart had introduced the clarinet into the higher range of music it rapidly became a favourite solo-instrument. Germany had at the beginning of the century two pre-eminent clarinet-players—Hermstedt of Sondershausen, and Bärmann of Munich. Spohr composed for the former, Weber for the latter.^[82] Hermstedt was an excellent player as far as technique went, but a man of limited intellect, while Bärmann, with an equally brilliant technique, was a thorough artist in temperament, and a man of refined taste. Spohr's clarinet compositions are good work, but, perhaps because he was in the habit of composing for Hermstedt, he never seems to have got at the heart of the instrument. This Weber did, and to such an extent that he is still the classical composer for the clarinet. It is a remarkable instance of his power of penetrating into the nature jof instruments, that though not able to play the clarinet himself he should have so far developed its resources that since his day no substantial advance has been made by composers in handling the instrument. His three clarinet-concertos (ops. 73, 74, and 26, the last a concertino) were all written in 1811, when he was living in Munich in constant intercourse with Bärmann. We have also two works for PF. and clarinet, Variations on a theme from Silvana, and a fine Duo concertante in three movements, op. 48. Wind-instruments are now out of fashion for concert-playing, and one seldom hears anything on such occasions but the piano and violin, instead of the pleasing variety which used to prevail with so much advantage to art, and this has caused a most regretable neglect of Weber's clarinet concertos. But seldom as these are heard, those he wrote for other wind-instruments are never played at all. And yet the concertos for horn, bassoon, and flute, testify very remarkably to his wonderful gift for penetrating into the nature of an instrument.

21. Weber's turn for literary composition, developed most strongly between the years 1809 and 1818, has been already mentioned.^[83] A few remarks on the value of his literary compositions will fitly close our review of his productive work. As a rule his pen was naturally employed on musical matters, only one of his newspaper articles being on a general subject—'Ueber Baden-Baden,' Aug. 1, 1810. His talent for authorship was undoubtedly considerable. His narrative is clear and intelligible, his style correct, elegant, and lively, with a certain freedom not at all unbecoming. Now and then, too, he wrote successful verses. Our great composers from Handel to Beethoven did not meddle with authorship. In this respect, as in so many others, Weber was the first of a new generation of artists. It pleased him to reveal the ideas with which his mind was crowded in words as well as in music. This is evident from his active correspondence. A large part of this would well bear publication, for Weber's letters are more amusing and contain more information than those of any other German musician. As an author he was the precursor of Schumann and Wagner, over whose music, too, his own exercised so great an influence. But unlike them he did not concentrate his literary powers; his nature was too restless, and his life too unsettled. It is a pity that his musical novel, 'Tonkünstler's Leben,' remained unfinished, for as he himself was the musician whose 'life' he described, we should have gained an artistically drawn autobiography of inestimable value. What a storehouse of details we should have had on the state of music in Germany at the beginning of the century, on the sort of concerts then given, on the doings of amateurs, the social position of musicians, etc.! Who better fitted to give us a correct picture of all this than the versatile, keenly observant Weber? What remains of the novel is interesting, and tantalizing, on account of its many acute and profound observations on art. Not that Weber could philosophise and systematise like Wagner; he touches lightly on subjects, sometimes indeed superficially, but in every word you see the man of intellectual cultivation capable of forming his own judgment. His literary affinity is closer to Schumann than to Wagner. The imagination, the humour, the kindness and cordiality towards his juniors, the absence of jealousy towards equals, are as characteristic of Weber as of Schumann. He helped materially to launch Meyerbeer and Marschner, exerted himself heartily to extend the knowledge of Spohr's music (a service Spohr did not return in kind), and though as a youth he passed a hasty judgment on Beethoven, he amply repaired the oversight in maturer years. When 'Fidelio' was being performed in Dresden, he wrote to Beethoven (Jan. 28, 1823), 'Each representation will be a festival to me, giving me the opportunity of offering to your noble spirit a homage springing from my inmost heart, which is filled with mingled admiration and affection for you.' And Weber was no man to pay empty compliments. Like as he was to Schumann in many respects, they were very different in others. Besides the sense of humour characteristic of both, Weber had a strong satirical vein, a caustic wit, and a love of fun, which he shared with Mozart. He was, also, more mercurial and brilliant than Schumann, who by his side seems almost slow. He took wider views of life, was more a man of the world, often with a kind of chivalrous gallantry; but far more fickle than his younger comrade in art. He wrote on all sorts of subjects, critical, polemical, historical, theoretical; most often perhaps to introduce new works, and prepare the public mind for their reception. The mechanical construction of instruments was always an interesting subject to him, and he wrote newspaper articles on Capeller's improved flutes, on Kaufmann's^[84] trumpets, chiming-clocks, and Harmonichord, and on Buschmann's 'Terpodion.' He even went so far as to compose a Concertstück (Adagio and Allegretto in F) for Kaufmann's harmonichord, a piece which shows very clearly his wonderful feeling for beauty of sound.

Summary of Weber's Compositions.

I. OPERAS.

1. Das Waldmädchen; 3 fragments only remaining: Unprinted. 1800.
2. Peter Schmoll und seine Nachbarn. Unprinted. 1801.
3. Rübezahl; only 3 numbers in existence, the last a Quintet published by Schlesinger. 1804, 1805.
4. Silvana; PF. score. Schlesinger. 1810.
5. Abu Hassan; PF. score. Simrock, Bonn. 1811.
6. Der Freischütz. 1820.
7. Die drei Pintos. Sketch only, unfinished. 1821. [App. p.815 "add that it has recently been completed by the composer's grandson, C. von Weber, and August Mahler, of Leipzig, and was produced at Leipzig, Jan. 20, 1888.]
8. Euryanthe. 1823.
9. Oberon. 1826.

II. OTHER DRAMATIC WOKKS.

1. Music to Schiller's Turandot; overture and 6 short instrumental pieces. 1809.
2. Music to Müliner's 'König Yngurd'; 10 instrumental and 1 vocal piece. 1817.
3. Music to Gehe's 'Heinrich IV, König von Frankreich'; 8 Instrumental pieces. 1818.
4. Music to Rubiack's play 'Lieb' um Liebe'; 4 vocal pieces, 1 march, and 1 melodrama. 1818.
5. Music to Houwald's tragedy 'Der Leuchtthurm'; 2 melodramas and 2 interludes for harp, all short. 1820.
6. Music to Wolff's 'Preciosa'; overture, 4 choruses, 1 song, 3 melodramas, and dances. 1820.
7. Music to a Festspiel by Ludwig Robert; instrumental movement, and 5 choruses. 1822.
8. Rondo alla Polacca for tenor voice, for Haydn's opera 'Freibrief. 1809.
9. 4 Lieder for single voice and guitar, Ueber die Berge mit Ungestüm; Rase, Sturmwind, blase; Lass mich schlummern, Herzlein, schweige; Umringt vom mutherfüllten Heere: from Kotzebue's 'Der arme Minnesinger.' 1811.
10. 2 Lieder, Mein Weib ist capores, and Frau Liesere guhe; from Anton Fischer's 'Travestirte Aeneas.' 1815.
11. 2 Lieder, Wer stets hinte' Ofen kroch, and Wie wir voll Glut uns hier zusammenfinden; from Gubitz's 'Lieb und Versöhnen.' 1815.
12. Ballad for single voice and harp, Was stürmt die Haide herauf? from Reinback's tragedy 'Gordon und Montrose.' 1815.
13. Arietta to Huber's 'Sternenmädchen im Maidlinger Walde." 1816.
14. Romance for single voice and guitar, Ein König einst gefangen sass; from Castelli's 'Diana von Poitiers.' 1816.
15. Lied, Hold ist der Cyanenkranz; from Kind's 'Weinberg an der Elbe.' 1817.
16. Chorus with wind Instruments, Heil dir Sappho; from Grillparzer's tragedy 'Sappho.' 1818.
17. Lied for single voice and guitar, Ein Mädchen ging die Wies' entlang; from Kind's 'Der Abend am Waldbrunnen.' 1818.
18. Chorus with wind instruments, Agnus Dei; from Graf von Blankensee's tragedy 'Carlo.' 1820.
19. Lied for 3 women's voices and guitar, Sagt woher stammt Liebesluste (Tell me where is fancy bred); from Shakspere's 'Merchant of Venice.' 1821.
20. Music and recitative, Doch welche Töne steigen jetzt hernieder; for Spontini's 'Olympia.' 1825,
21. Recitative and Rondo for soprano and orchestra, Il momento s'avvicina. 1810.
22. Scena ed aria for soprano and orchestra, Misera me; from 'Atalia.' 1811.
23. Scena ed aria for tenor, men's chorus, and orchestra, Qual altro attendi. 1811.
24. Scena ed aria, for tenor, 2 choruses, and orchestra, Signor sa padre sei; from 'Ines de Castro.' 1812.
25. Scena ed aria for soprano and orchestra, Ah, se Edmondo fosse l'uccisor; for Méhul's 'Helène.' 1815.
26. Scena ed aria for soprano and orchestra, Non paventar, mia vita; for 'Ines de Castro.' 1815.
27. Scena ed aria for soprano and orchestra, Was sag' ich? Schaudern macht mich der Gedanke! for Cherubini's 'Lodoiska.' 1818.
28. Three duets for 2 soprani and PF., Se il mio ben; Mille volte mio tesoro; Va, ti consola. 1811.

III. CANTATAS.

1. Der erste Ton: by Rochlitz: orchestral music for declamation and final chorus. 1808.
2. Hymn, In seiner Ordnung schafft der Herr; by Rochlitz: soli. chorus, and orchestra. 1812.
3. Kampf und Sieg; by Wohlbrück, in commemoration of June 18 1815: soli, chorus, and orchestra. 1815.
4. L'Accoglianza; for the wedding of the Hereditary Grand-Duke Leopold of Tuscany, and Princess Maria Anna Carolina of Saxony, words by Celani: 6 solo-voices, chorus and orchestra. Oct. 29, 1817.
5. Natur und Liebe; by Kind; for the name-day of King Friedrich August of Saxony: 2 sopranos, 2 tenors, 2 basses, and PF. 1818.
6. Jubel-Cantata, Erhebt den Lobgesang: by Kind; for the 50th anniversary of King Friedrich August's accession: soli, chorus, and orchestra. 1818.
7. Du, bekränzend unsre Laren; by Kind, for Duchess Amalia von Zwelbrücken's birthday: solo and chorus, with PF. and flute. 1821.
8. Wo nehm' ich Blumen her; by Hell, for Princess Therese of Saxony's birthday: 3 solo-voices and PF. 1823.

IV. MASSES.

1. In E♭; 4 solo voices, chorus, and orchestra: for the King of Saxony's name-day. 1818.

1a. Offertoire to the same: soprano solo, chorus, and orchestra.

2. In G; 4 solo-voices, chorus, and orchestra: for the golden wedding of the King and Queen of Saxony. 1818–1819.

2a. Offertoire to the same; soprano-solo, chorus, and orchestra. 1818.

V. LIEDER, BALLADS, AND ROMANCES, FOR ONE OR TWO VOICES, WITH PIANO OR GUITAR.

(Alphabetically arranged.)

1. Ach war ich doch zu dieser Stund. 1816.
2. Ach wenn ich nur ein Liebchen hätte. 1809.
3. Ah, dove siete, oh luci belle. Canzonet (guitar). 1811.
4. Alles in mir glühet zu lieben. 1814.
5. Auf die stürmsche See hinaus (guitar). 1810.
6. Ch' io mai vi possa. Canzonet (guitar). 1811.
7. Das war ein recht abscheuliches Gesicht. 1820.
8. Der Gaishirt steht am Felsenrand. 1822.
9. Der Holdseligen sonder Wank. 1813.
10. Der Tag hat seinen Schmuck. Volkslied. 1819.
    Die Temperaments beim Verlust der Geliebten. 1816.
11. a. Der Leichtmüthige (Lust entfloh, und hin ist hin).
12. b. Der Schwermüthige (Seige Zeiten).
13. c. Der Liebewüthige (Verrathen!).
14. d. Der Gleichmüthige (Nun bin Ich befreit, wie behäglich!).
15. Die Wunde brennt, die bleichen Lippen beben. Sonnet from Leyer und Schwert. 1814.
16. Düst're Harmonieen hör' ich klingen. Ibid. 1816.
17. Du liebes, holdes, himmelsüsses Wesen. Sonnet. 1812.
18. Ein Echo kenn' ich. 1808.
19. Ein' fromme Magd von gutem Stand. Volkslied. 1818.
20. Ein König einst gefangen sass (guitar). 1816. See II. 14.
21. Ein Mädchen ging die Wies' entlang (guitar). 1818. See II. 17.
22. Ein neues Lied, eln neues Lied; MS. 1810.
23. Ein steter Kampf ist unser Leben. 1808.
24. Ein Veilchen blüht im Thale. 1817.
25. Ei, wenn Ich doch ein Maler wär. 1820.
26. Elle était simple et gentilette. 1824.
27. Endlich hatte Damon sie gefunden (guitar). 1810.
28. Entfliehet schnell von mir; MS. 1803.
29. Es sitzt die Zelt im weissen Kleid (guitar). 1810.
30. Es stürmt auf der Flur, es brauset im Hain. 1813.
31. Frage mich immer, fragest umsonst. 1813.
32. Frei und froh mit muntern Sinnen. 1812.
33. From Chindara's warbling fount I come; MS. 1826.
34. Herzchen, mein Schätzchen, bist tausendmal mein. Volkslied. 1819.
35. Herz, lass dich nicht zerspalten. Leyer und Schwerdt. 1814.
36. Herz, mein Herz ermanne dich. 1820.
37. Horch! leise horch, Geliebte, horch! (guitar). 1809.
38. Ich denke dein, wenn durch den Hain. 1806.
39. Ich empfinde fast ein Grauen. 1818.
40. Ich hab' mir eins erwählet. Volkslied. 1817.
41. Ich sah ein Röschen am Wege stehn. 1809.
42. Ich sah sie hingesunken; MS. 1804.
43. Ich tummle mich auf der Haide. 1819.
44. In der Berge Riesenschatten (guitar). 1812.
45. Judäa, hochgelobtes Land. 1819.
46. I und mein junges Weib können schön tanza. Volkslied (guitar). 1812.
47. Jungst sass ich am Grabe der Trauten allein. 1804.
48. Keine Lust ohn' treues Lieben. Triolet. 1819.
49. Lass mich schlummern, Herzlein schweige (guitar). 1811. See II. 9.
50. Mädel, schau' mir ins Gesicht (guitar). 1807.
51. Maienblümlein so schön. 1811.
52. Meine lieder, meine Sänge. 1809.
53. Mein Schatz, der ist auf der Wanderschaft hin. Volkslled. 1818.
54. Mein Schatzerl ist hübsch. Volkslied. 1818.
55. Ninfe, se liete. Canzonet (guitar). 1811.
56. O Berlin, ich muss dich lassen. Volkslied, 2-part. 1817.
57. Rase, Sturmwind, blase (guitar). 1811. MS. See II. 9.
58. Rosen im Haare, den Becher zur Hand. 1818.
59. Sagt mir an, was schmunzelt ihr. 1813.
60. Sanftes Licht, weiche nicht (guitar). 1809.
61. Schlaf, Herzenssöhnchen, mein Liebling bist da (guitar). 1810.
62. Sicchè t' inganni, o Clori. Canzonet. 1810.
63. Sind es Schmerzen, sind es Freuden. 1813.
64. Sind wir geschieden, und ich muss leben ohne dich. Volkslied. 1819.
65. 'Sis nichts mit den alten Welbern. Volkslied. 1817.
66. So geht es im Schnützelputz-Häusel. Volkslied. 2-part. 1817.
67. Süsse Ahnung dehnt den Busen. 1809.
68. Trariro, der Sommer der ist do. Volkslied, 2-part 1817.
69. Traurig, einsam welkst du hin. 1809.
70. Ueber die Berge mit Ungestüm (guitar). 1811. See II. 9.
71. Um Rettung bietet ein güldnes Geschmeide. 1812.
72. Umringt vom mutherfülten Heere. Lied with chorus (guitar). 1811. See II. 9.
73. Umsonst entsagt ich der lockenden Liebe. 1802.
74. Ungern flieht das süsse Leben; MS. 1802.
75. Vater ich rufe dlch. Leyer und Schwert. 1814.
76. Vöglein, einsam in dem Bauer. 1816.
77. Vöglein hüpfet in dem Haine. 1816.
78. Was bricht hervor, wie Blüthen weiss. 1819.
79. Was stürmet die Haide herauf (harp). 1815. See II. 12.
80. Was zieht zu delnem Zauberkreise. 1809.
81. Welle, Kind, ich will nicht rauben. 1816.
82. Well es Gott also gefügt; MS. 1809.
83. Weine, weine, weine nur nicht. Volkslied. 1818.
84. Wenn, Brüder, wie wir täglich sehn. Lied with chorus. 1809.
85. Wenn die Malen grün sich kleiden. 1818.
86. Wenn ich die Blümlein schau. 1817.
87. Wenn ich ein Vöglein war. Volkslied. 1818.
88. Wenn Kindlein süssen Schlummers Ruh. 1821.
89. Wo ist des Sängers Vaterland? Leyer und Schwert. 1814.
90. Wollt ihr sie kenneu, soll ich sie nennen. 1808.

VI. PART-SONGS FOR MEN'S VOICES.

1. Bald heisst es wieder: Gute Nacht. 4-part. 1819.
2. Das Volk steht auf, der Sturm bricht los. Leyer und Schwert; 4-part. 1814.
3. Du Schwert an meiner Linken. Leyer und Schwert; 4-part. 1814.
4. Ei, ei, wie scheint der Mond so hell. Volkslied; 3-part. 1818.
5. Ein Kind ist uns geboren. 4-part. 1819.
6. Flüstert liebllch, Sommerlüfte. 4-part, with PF. 1817.
7. Freunde, dass Glut liebend uns trage. 4-part. 1814.
8. Frisch auf, frisch auf, mit raschem Flug. Leyer und Schwert; 1814
9. Füllet die Humpen, muthige Knappen (Turnierbankett). 1812.
10. Hinaus, hinaus, zum blut' gen Strauss. 4-part. 1825.
11. Hörnerschall! Ueberfall! 4-part. 1825.
12. Hör' uns, Allmächtiger! Leyer und Schwert. 4-part. 1814.
13. Husaren sind gar wackre Truppen. 4-part. 1821.
14. Ja freue dich. so wie du bist. 4-part. 1819.
15. Schlacht, du brichst an. Leyer und Schwert; 4-part. 1814.
16. Schöne Ahnung ist er glommen. 4-part. 1818.
17. Sohn der Ruhe, sinke nieder. 4-part. 1822.
18. Was glänzt dort vorm Walde im Sonnenschein. (Lützow.) Leyer und Schwert; 4-part. 1814.
19. Wir stehn vor,Gott. der Meineid's Frevel racht. Unison with wind instruments. 1812.

VII. LIEDER AND PART-SONGS FOR VARIOUS VOICES WITH AND WITHOUT ACCOMPANIMENT.

1. Canons zu zwey sind nicht drey. Canon à 3 (printed by Jähns, No. 90). 1810.
2. Die Sonate soll ich spielen. Canon à 3 (Jähns, No. 89). 1810.
3. Ein Gärtchen und ein Häuschen drin. Soprano, tenor, and bass, without accompaniment; MS. 1803.
4. Geiger und Pfeiffer. Swabian Dance-song; soprano. 2 tenors, and bass. 1812.
5. Heisse, stille Liebe schwebet. Soprano, 2 tenors, and bass. 1812.
6. Hörst du der Klage dumpfen Schall. Mixed chorus and wind instruments; MS. 1811.
7. Leck' mich im Angesicht. Canon à 3 (Jähns, No. 95). 1810.
8. Leis' wandeln wir, wie Geisterhauch. Dirge; soprano, 2 tenors, and bass, with wind instruments. 1803.
9. Lenz erwacht und Nachtigallen. 2 soprani, 2 tenors, and 2 basses, with PF.; MS. 1812.
10. Mädchen, ach meide Männerschmeichelein. Canon à 3 (Jähns, No. 35). 1802.
11. Scheiden und meiden ist einerlei. Canon à 4 (Jähns, No. 167) 1814.
12. Weil Maria Töne hext. Canon à 3; MS. 1816.
13. Zu dem Reich der Töne schweben. Canon à 4 (Jähns, No. 164). 1814.
14. Zur Fremde ward geboren. Soprano, 2 tenors, and bass. 1812.

VIII SCOTCH SONGS, ACCOMPANIMENTS TO, FOR FLUTE, VIOLIN, CELLO, AND PF. 1825.

1. The soothing shades of gloaming.
2. Glowing with love, on fire for fame.
3. O poortith cauld and restless love.
4. True-hearted was he.
5. Yes thou mayst walk.
6. A soldier am I.
7. John Anderson my Jo.
8. O my Luve's like the red red rose.
9. Robin is my joy.
10. Where hae ye been a day.

IX. SYMPHONIES, OVERTURES, ORCHESTRAL DANCES, AND MARCHES.

1. First Symphony, C major; Allegro con fuoco; Andante; Scherzo, presto; Finale, presto. 1806–1807.
2. Second Symphony, C. Major; Allegro; Adagio ma non troppo; Menuetto, allegro; Finale, scherzo presto. 1807.
3. Grande Ouverture à plusieurs instruments, B♭–E♭. 1807. See I. 2.
4. Overture, Beherrscher der Geister; D minor. 1811. See I. 3.
5. Jubel-Ouverture; E. 1818.
6. Waltz for wind instruments; E♭, MS. The trio is Weber's Lied 'Maienblümlein so schön.' 1812.
7. Deutscher for full orchestra; D. Subject same as the second of the Lieder II. 10. 1815.
8. Tedesco for full orchestra; D. Unprinted; used for the Preciosa music. 1816.
9. Marcia vivace, for 10 trumpets; D. Unprinted; used for Euryanthe. 1822.
10. March, for wind Instruments; C. Subject partly the same as XI. 22. 1826.

X. CONCERTOS AND CONCERTED PIECES WITH ORCHESTRA.

1. First PF. concerto; C. Allegro; Adagio; Finale, presto. 1810.
2. Second PF. concerto; E♭. Allegro maestoso; Adagio; Rondo, presto. 1812.
3. Concert-stück for PF.; F minor. Larghetto affettuoso; Allegro passionate; Marcia e Rondo giojoso. 1821.
4. Concertino for clarinet; C minor–E♭. Adagio ma non troppo; Thema (Andante) with variations, and Finale, Allegro. 1811.
5. First concerto for clarinet; F minor. Allegro moderato; Adagio ma non troppo; Rondo allegretto. 1811.
6. Second concerto for clarinet; E♭. Allegro; Romanze; Alla Polacca. 1811.
7. Quintet for clarinet and string-quartet; B♭. Allegro; Fantasia Adagio; Menuetto; Rondo, allegro glojoso. Classed here as being of the nature of a concerto. 1815.
8. Concerto for bassoon; F major. Allegro ma non troppo; Adagio; Rondo, allegro. 1811.
9. Adagio e Rondo Ungarese. for bassoon; C minor. Revision of No. 13. 1813.
10. Concertino for horn; E minor. Adagio; Andante con moto with variations; Polacca. 1815.
11. Romanza Siciliana for flute; G minor. 1805.
12. Six variations for viola on the Volkslied, 'A Schüsserl und a Beind'rl'; C. 1806.
13. Andante and Rondo Ungarese for viola; C minor. See No. 9. 1809.
14. Potpourri for cello; D. Maestoso; Andante with variations; Adagio; Finale, allegro. 1808.
15. Andante and variations for cello; D minor, F major. 1810.
16. Adagio and Rondo for the Harmonichord; F major. 1811.

XI. PIANOFORTE MUSIC.

A. For two hands.

1. First Sonata; C, Allegro; Adagio; Menuetto, allegro; Rondo, presto. 1812.
2. Second Sonata; A♭. Allegro moderato con spirito ed assai legato; Andante; Menuetto capriccio; Rondo, moderato e molto grazioso. 1816.
3. Third Sonata; D minor. Allegro feroce; Andante con moto; Rondo, presto. 1816.
4. Fourth Sonata; E minor. Moderato; Menuetto; Andante quasi Allegretto; Finale, La Tarentella. 1822.
5. Six variations on an original theme; C. 1800.
6. Eight variations on a theme from Vogler's 'Castor and Pollux'; F. 1804.
7. Six variations on a theme from Vogler's 'Samori'; B♭. 1804.
8. Seven variations on Bianchi's 'Vien quà Dorina bella'; C. 1807.
9. Seven variations on an original theme; F. 1808.
10. Seven variations on a theme from Méhul's 'Joseph'; C. 1812.
11. Nine variations on a Russian air, 'Schöne Minka'; C minor 1815.
12. Seven variations on a Gipsy air; C. 1817.
13. Memento capriccioso; B♭. 1808.
14. Grande Polonaise; E♭. 1808.
15. Polacca brilliants; E major. 1819.
16. Rondo brilllante; E♭. 1819.
17. Aufforderung zum Tanze, Rondo brilliant; D♭. 1819.
18. Six Fughetti, Op. 1. 1798.
19. Twelve Allemandes (Valses, Nos. 11 and 12, for 4 hands.) 1801.
20. Six Ecossaises. 1802.
21. Eighteen Valses (Valses favorites de l'Imperatrice de France) 1812.

B. For four hands.

22. Six easy little pieces: (1) Sonatina, C; (2) Romanze, F; (3) Menuetto, B♭; (4) Andante con variazioni, G; (5) Marcia, maestoso; (6) Rondo, E♭.
23. Six pieces: (1) Moderato, E♭; (2) Andantino con moto, C minor; (3) Andante con variazioni, G; (4) Masurik, C; (5) Adagio, A♭; (6) Rondo, E♭. 1809.
24. Eight pieces: (1) Moderato, D; (2) Allegro, C; (3) Adagio, F; (4) Allegro, A minor; (5) Alla Siciliana, D minor; (6) Tema variato (Ich hab' mir eins erwählet, see V. 40), E; (7) Marcia, G minor; (8) Rondo, B♭. 1818–1819.

XII. PIANOFORTE MUSIC WITH ACCOMPANIMENT.

1. Nine variations on a Norwegian air; D minor. PF. and violin. 1808.
2. Six Sonatas for PF. and violin: (1) F, Allegro, Romanze, Rondo amabile; (2) G, Moderato, Adagio, Rondo allegro; (3) D minor, Allegretto moderato, Rondo presto; (4) E♭, Moderato, Rondo vivace; (5) A, Andante con moto with variations, Finale Siciliano; (6) C, Allegro con fuoco, Largo, Polacca. 1810.
3. Seven variations for PF. and clarinetl B♭. 1811.
4. Grand Duo concertant for PF. and clarinet; E♭. Allegro con fuoco, Andante con moto, Rondo allegro. 1816.
5. Divertimento assai facile for PF. and guitar: (1) Andante, C; (2) Valse, A minor; (3) Andante con Variazioni, G; (4) Polacca, A major. 1816.

It is scarcely necessary to mention that the Foregoing summary is drawn up from Jähns's 'Carl Maria von Weber in seinen Werken' (Berlin, Schlesinger, 1871), a first-rate book, on which all future writers about Weber must rely. I have altered Jähns's arrangement. [App. p.815 "The following certificate of Weber's death was among the papers of Sir Julius Benedict: 'On examining the body of Carl M. von Weber we found an ulcer on the left side of the larynx. The lungs almost universally diseased, filled with tubercles, of which many were in a state of suppuration, with two vomicae, one of them about the size of a common egg, the other smaller, which was a quite sufficient cause of death. (Signed) F. Tencken, M.D.; Chas. F. Forbes, M.D.; P. M. Kind, M.D.; Wm. Robinson, Surgeon. 91 Great Portland Street, June 5, 1826, 5 o'clock.'"]

[ P. S. ]

1. Forkel's Musikalischer Almanach for 1783, p. 93.
2. Gerber's Lexicon, ii. 771.
3. Forkel, p. 68, and elsewhere. M. M. von Weber, in his biography of his father (Lebensbild) i. 13, conjectures that Franz Anton had played under an assumed name up to 1778, as no trace of him is found before. Apparently he did not know of the passage in Forkel's Almanach. Gerber also mentions as compositions of Franz Anton's a cantata 'Das Lob Gottes in der Natur,' and pieces for the viola, both in MS.
4. C. F. Pohl's Joseph Haydn, ii. 204. The general opinion of Edmund von Weber is somewhat opposed to Spohr's judgment on making his acquaintance in Berne in 1816. He says 'he is said to be a good theoretical musician: as a violinist and conductor he is weak.' Spohr's Selbstbiographie, i. 253.
5. Weber's Litterariscbe Arbeiten, 175. (Leipzig, Kiel., 1866.)
6. Pasqué's 'Goethe's Theaterleitung in Weimar,' ii, 20,223. Leipzig, Weber. 1863.
7. M. M. von Weber, i. 41, and elsewhere, thinks his father made him out intentionally a year younger than he was, but of this piece of dishonesty he may be acquitted. The careless mistake of speaking of a person as of the age of the current year instead of that of the year last completed is very frequent in German. The expression 'in the eleventh year of his age,' may well have meant the same as eleven years old.
8. January 19, 1799, to Hofkammerrath Kirms at Weimar.
9. M. von Weber. i. 49, etc., says that they were accidentally destroyed in Kalcher's house. See however Biedenfeld's 'Komische Opera,' 134 (Leipzig, Weigel. 1848) and K. Muziol in the 'Neue Berliner Musik- zeitung' for 1879, No. 1, etc.
10. Nohl's 'Musiker-Briefe,' 2nd ed., 177.
11. Nohl's 'Mosaic,' 68, etc. (Leipzig: Senff, 1882.)
12. Ibid. 78. note.
13. See Jähns, Nos. 39, 40, 43.
14. M. von Weber is incorrect here, i. 87. Also the Variations, op. 6. were completed earlier than stated by Jähns (No. 43, p. 57). They were undoubtedly finished by May 1804.
15. See Jähns. Nos. 50 and 51.
16. Weber states in his autobiographical sketch that he composed at Schloss Carlsruhe 2 Symphonies, several Concertos, and 'Harmoinestücke' (pieces for wind without strings). If we include the viola variations, much in the form of a concerto, we get 2 concertos, but the Harmoniestücke are missing. A 'Tusch' (flourish of trumpets) of 4 bars, for 20 trumpets, printed by Jähns No. 47 A, p. 61, probably counted as one of them.
17. Not the daughter, as M. M. v. Weber states (i. 159) but the sister of Theobald Lang the violinist, and in consequence aunt to Josephine Lang-Köstlin, Mendelssohn's friend, and composer of so many Lieder.
18. Printed entire by M. M. von Weber, i. 146.
19. Jähns, pp. 101 and 103.
20. Jähns, No. 76.
21. Published in the same year by Peters of Leipzig. 'Zwölf Choräle von Sebastian Bach, umgearbeitet von Vogler, zergliedert von Carl Maria von Weber.' etc.
22. Jähns, p. 404.
23. Nohl's 'Musikerbriefe.' 2nd ed. 178.
24. According to the register of the theatre. Jähns. p. 103.
25. Published later by Simrock of Bonn.
26. Published later by Schlesinger of Berlin as 'Des Künstler Abschied.'
27. Nohl's Musikerbriefe, 195.
28. Known as the Concertino, Op. 26. Jähns. No. 100.
29. Concerto No. 1, Op. 73. Jähns, No. 114.
30. Concerto No. 2, Op. 74. Jähns, No. 118.
31. Weber to Gänsbacher.
32. 'Das Turnierbankett,' Jähns, No. 132.
33. The Italian Opera of Prague ceased to exist in 1806.
34. Weber's diary contains a remark on him which is worth reading. 'March 27. To Tomaschek's. He played me 12 Eclogues, 1 Sonata, 2 Airs, 1 Concerto, and 1 Symphony, till I was quite exhausted. Are all composers possessed of the devil when they get to their own works? and is it the same with me? God forbid.'
35. To Gänsbacher, Aug. 4. 1816.
36. The home he stayed in is still standing, and bears an inscription.
37. Some papers entitled 'Scenes from Dr. Karl Löwe's Life,' have been published by Dr. Max Runze (from MS. notes by Löwe's daughter) in the 'Musikwelt' (Berlin, 1881). No. 11 (Apr. 9. 1881) contains a charming picture of Weber's concert at Halle, and the part Löwe took in it. Unfortunately it is historically inaccurate. Dr. Runze makes Weber play in July 1820 his Concertstück in F minor, which was not written till 1821, and played in public for the first time, June 25, in Berlin. Nor is this all; Dr. Runze declares that in this his own composition Weber could not keep time with the orchestra, and says that in the fire of playing he accelerated the tempo, the band hurried after him, but bye and bye fell behind, and Löwe had to stop Weber and start them again. Dr. Runze's description would apply to the playing of a bad amateur, not to that of a finished Capellmelster like Weber. All this too about the execution of a piece not then in existence!
38. Weber's Literarische Arbeiten, 109 (Lebensbild. vol. iii).
39. Weber also wrote an article in its behalf: see p. 224 of the Lebensbild, and elsewhere.
40. 'The Great Musicians.' edited by Francis Hueffer; 'Weber,' by Sir Julius Benedict, 61 (London, 1881).
41. It was not the first actual performance. That distinction fell to Goethe's 'Iphigenia' (May 26), succeeded for the next few days by one or two other plays.
42. Benedict's 'Weber.' 65.
43. He had undertaken to write a new opera, 'Euryanthe,' for Vienna.
44. Thus all the three representatives of German romantic opera Weber, Spohr, and Marschner, were living in the same place.
45. Given by Max von Weber in the 'Biographie' ii. 466. The dates given are not entirely in accordance with those in the biography, but I have followed Jähns's careful epitome of Weber's diary, now in the Royal Library of Berlin.
46. See Schubert, vol. iii. p. 338b.
47. See Beethoven, vol. i. p. 196a.
48. Julius (p. 309) gives the most important part of his letter.
49. So says Benedict, p. 106. and elsewhere. Max von Weber's account varies slightly.
50. Benedict (p. 115) says March 6, but he is wrong.
51. It was his interest in wood-engraving which led to his friendship with F. W. Gubitz in Berlin. See 'Gubitz's Erlebnisse,' ii. 18 (Berlin, 1868).
52. The Weber collection, amassed with so much diligence by Prof. Jähns, was purchased some years ago for the Berlin Royal Library.
53. The best-known work of the kind was 'Rinaldo Rinaldini' by Goethe's brother-in-law Vulpius.
54. PF. score by Jähns (Berlin, Schlesinger).
55. With PF. accompaniment by Jähns (Schlesinger).
56. Schlesinger, Berlin.
57. Abu Hassan, a droll favourite of the Caliph of Bagdad, and his wife Fatima, with a greater turn for making verses than for domestic management, have run deeply into debt, and are hard pressed by their creditors. They hit upon the expedient of each giving out the other as dead; so Fatima goes to the Sultana, and Hassan to the Sultan, to ask for their customary contribution towards the funeral expenses. The plan succeeds, and each returns with a considerable sum, which is applied to their most urgent necessities. The Sultan and Sultana, however, fall out as to which of the two it is that has died, and to settle the question, proceed with a number of their court to Abu Hassan's house. Here, after a very droll scene with the supposed defunct couple, the true state of affairs comes to light, and Abu Hassan and Fatima are abundantly provided for, while Omar the money-changer, who has pressed his demands in the hope of extorting concessions from Fatima, receives due punishment.
58. A complete PF. score is published by Simrock of Bonn (now Berlin).
59. Published in vol. i. of the 'Gespensterbuch,' edited by Apel and Laun (Leipzig, Göschen, 1810).
60. To be found in No. 68 of the 'Freimüthigen für Deutschland,' edited by Müchler and Symanski (Berlin, 1819).
61. See his 'Bunte Blätter,' i. (Leipzig, Leuckart, 1872); also the New Series, 33 (ibid. 1874), and Wustmann in the 'Grenzboten. i. 1871, p. 414.
62. This discovery is due to Ambros; see his 'Cultur-historische Bilder aus dem Musikleben der Gegeuwart,' 47 (Leipzig, Malthei, 1860), and 'Bunte Blätter,' 22.
63. The autograph sketches arc in the possession of Weber's grandson, Capt. Freiherr von Weber, at Leipzig. Reissiger added an accompaniment to a duet 'So wie Blumen, so wie Blüthen,' which was published in this form in the Weber-Album edited by the Sarrischen Schiller-verein. For an exhaustive account of these interesting fragments see Jähns, Nos. 417 to 427.
64. The first two editions of the score of 'Preciosa' were full of mistakes. A third, which has been prepared with great care by Ernst Rudorff (Berlin, Schlesinger, 1872), contains this previously unknown dance in an appendix.
65. 'Euryanthe von Savoyen,' from a MS. in the Royal Library at Paris called Histoire de Gerard de Nevers et de la belle et vertueuse Eurvant de Savoye, sa mie' (Berlin, 1823). Michel's edition of the Roman, de la Violette' is in verse.
66. This Goethe did not do; he says (Gespräche mit Eckermann, i. 148): 'Karl Maria von Weber should never have composed Euryanthe; he ought to have seen at once that it was a bad subject, with which nothing could be done.' After what I have said it is unnecessary to point out the injustice of this remark. Goethe had not musical insight enough to understand what it was in the libretto that attracted Weber, against whom moreover he had a prejudice. Still even he allowed 'Der Freischütz' to be a good subject (Eckermann, ii. 16).
67. 'Gesammelte Schriften,' iv. 290.
68. Hell's translation was published almost simultaneously with the original libretto, the preface to which is dated 'Brompton Crescent, April 10, 1826.' The German title runs 'Oberon, King of the Elves, a romantic fairy-opera in 3 acts. Translated for the German stage by Theodor Hell from the English original by J. B. Planché. set to music by Capellmelster Freyherr Karl Maria von Weber' (Arnold, Dresden and Leipzig, 1826). With a long preface by the translator.
69. May not the elves and sprites be intended for personifications of the forces of nature?
70. The full score has been published in an edition de luxe by Schlesinger of Berlin.
71. Schlesinger of Berlin has published a complete edition in 2 vols. of Weber's songs. Two or three unimportant ones for single voice are omitted, but the 2-part songs, Italian duets, numerous choruses for men's voices (arranged), part-songs for various voices with accompaniments, bring up the number to 100.
72. It is by no means uncommon to hear the last four bars repeated! a fact which shows without explanation how entirely Weber's idea has been misunderstood.
73. The Volkshymne 'Hell dir im Siegeskranz' is sung to this air in Germany, and Weber evidently had the words in his mind here. He used the same tune for the finale to the Jubel-ouverture. [See God save the King, vol. i. p. 607a.]
74. Reprinted complete in the 'Lebensbild,' iii. 94.
75. Op. 53, Schlesinger, Berlin, vocal score.
76. Score, parts, and PF. score, published by Schlesinger of Berlin.
77. The score, with the two sets of words, and preceded by the Jubel-Ouverture, is published by Schlesinger (Berlin). A full analysis with ample quotations is given in the 'Monthly Musical Record,' 1873.
78. The score of the E♭ mass was published by Richault (Paris), that of the one in G by Haslinger (Vienna, edition de luxe).
79. Lebensbild, iii. 117.
80. I include the variations for PF. and violin, op. 22. and for PF. aud clarinet, op. 33.
81. Benedict's 'Weber.'
82. Of Weber's six works for clarinet solo, five are dedicated to his friend Bärmann; the sixth, op. 48. bears no dedication. It seems probable from Jähns (p. 434, No. 57) that this was composed for Hermstedt at his own request, but that Weber would not dedicate it to him out of consideration for Bärmann.
83. Weber's posthumous writings came out originally in 3 vols. (Arnold, Dresden and Leipzig), and were republished as vol. iii. of Max von Weber's 'Lebensbild.'
84. Father and son of Dresden.