’ 
4 
: 
‘ 
1826.) 
most magnificent and original work, was, 
in one sense, his: whole musical life. He 
has been heard to declare, that some of its 
symphonies were conceptions that’ had 
haunted him from the first time of his hay- 
jng ever dreamed of composition. Their 
embodying together might have cost him 
but little time or trouble, but their separate 
ereation was the earlier work of his mind. 
What he might have done by further 
Jeisure, by returning to the midst of his 
native associations, and by the ‘full con- 
sciousness that the highest musical dis- 
tinction was to be his reward, it ‘is now 
unfortunately impossible to ascertain. _ But 
the Freischutz is a superb evidence of his 
possessing the finest and rarest of all the 
qualities of his art,— originality. 
We have already alluded. to his feeble- 
ness of constitution. It was apparent, 
almost from his arrival in England, that he 
was in a state of extreme debility; but so 
speedy a termination was by no means 
contemplated. He’ was:a remarkably mild 
and ‘uricomplainmg man; unostentatious 
and simple in-all his habits, he solicited 
no more commiseration to his bodily suffer- 
ing, than homage to his professional supe- 
riority.-’ But the disease of which he died 
must have been at every moment giving 
him painful proof of its progress. He 
eontinued to the last, though little dis- 
posed to society; and stillless to exert him- 
self in conversation, yet- gentle, and free 
from all the irritability so natural to an in- 
valid. He-frequently talked of his family, 
and for the few days preceding his death 
“home! home!” were almost his only 
words; but he still struggled with his 
extreme lassitude, and even on the day-be- 
fore he died, got out of his bed, dined 
with something of cheerfulness, and talked 
of returning to Germany. Next morning 
he was found dead, as in quiet sleep, on his 
pillow, with his head resting on his hand. 
- An examination by the medical atten- 
dants into the source of his disease, sub- 
sequently ascertained that it had so’ com- 
pletely seized upon his lungs, that recovery 
must have been-long ‘beyond the power of 
medicine. p : 
**The London musicians and composers, 
honourably anxious to pay respect to the 
memory of their foreign brother, proposed 
to give a grand celebration, the music of 
which was to be taken from his works, and 
the profits to be applied partly to defraying 
the expense of a monument, and partly to 
be transmitted to his family. As Weber 
was a Roman Catholic, this celebration 
was intended. to.be-held in the chapel at 
Moorfields. On this occasion, some very 
paltry negociation seems:to have been dis- 
“Se by the managers*of the thapel..- It. 
s the public report, that they actually 
nted to turn the whole-affair into & 
iness of pounds, shillings, and ‘pence ; 
t they even demanded a certain sum for 
the personal admission of the very per- 
MLM. ‘New Serics.—Vot. I, No. 7, — 
Monthly Theatrical Report. 
‘89 
formers! So mpycha head for Braham, 
&e.! This was of course negatived, and 
an application was made at St. Paul’s; but 
the Requiem is a Popish ceremony, and 
of course this request could not be complied 
with. They then returned to the Roman 
Catholic priests again, and the ceremony, 
we believe, proceeded. The liberality. of 
the whole transaction will, we presume, 
be recorded in’ the next oration >of: the 
O’ Connors and O’Gormans. 
The winter theatres are presumed te 
have had but a disastrous season. The 
general depression of the times may have 
assisted this .result. Ill luck, which visits 
theatres as it does graver things, may have 
had its part; and mismanagement is. very 
equal to have completed this round of disas- 
ter. On the last point, a good deal has 
been said; and we are not authorized to 
contradict any thing that has been said of 
the obvious and natural unfitness of the 
individuals concerned. It has grown into 
a theatrical axiom, the wisdom of long ex» 
perience, that the manager of a theatre 
should be a man perfectly acquainted with 
theatrical matters; a diligent and deter- 
mined man in his calling; and, above all, 
not an actor, His being an actor:is con- 
sidered the most unanswerable ground of 
unfitness for a station, where he must-have 
to judge of the qualities of others without 
caprice, prejudice, or the remotest idea of 
personal competition. Ifa manager be an 
actor, the play which gives him a promi- 
nent part will probably be accepted in 
preference to the play in whieh he: cannot 
figure. If a comedian, he will be apt ta 
feel, involuntarily perhaps, that tragedy isa 
burthen to the world ; if a tragedian, co- 
medy must bow its head in silence, and 
wait for his death or remoyal. If-he-plays 
young characters, the dignity of age will 
find but sorry reception; if old, youth 
must linger-till the author has transferred 
his regards to graceful longevity. Inshort, 
the whole system of personal feelings and 
professional rivalries: may be presumed, in 
even the best ordered mind, to have some 
activity. . We: protest entirely against eny 
personal imputation on either Mr. Kemble 
or Mr. Elliston ; we believe them both to 
be generous and high-spirited men; as they 
certainly have the manners and <acquire- 
ments of gentlemen; but still, a manager 
should not_be an actor, if it were even from 
the inevitable absorption of mind connected 
with acting.. There is in the management. 
of a theatre enough to occupy the whole 
time of any man living. Garrick, it is 
true, wasrar actor, but he-has left no 
succession. 
With the personal irregulatities of indi- 
viduals we disdain to interfere ; but, in the 
next place, it is clear that a consummatély 
correct and decorous style Of conduct Be- 
fore the public, is essential to.both public 
respect, and to that subordination within. 
the walls necessary among the giddy oak 
