might best be taken to prevent the journey. About midnight they
parted. On their leaving the house, all was dark in Weber's window.
His light had been extinguished.

"The next morning, at the early hour when Weber generally required his
aid, Sir George Smart's servant knocked at his chamber door; no answer
came; he knocked again, and louder. It was strange, for Weber's sleep
had always been light. The alarmed servant rushed to Sir George, who
sprang out of bed and hurried to the room. Still, to his repeated
knocking, no answer was returned. Fuerstenau was sent for. He came
half dressed, already anticipating the worst. It was now resolved to
force the door. It was burst open. All was still within. The watch,
which the last movement of the great hand which had written 'Der
Freischuetz,' 'Euryanthe,' and 'Oberon,' had wound up, alone ticked with
painful distinctness. The bed-curtains were torn back. There lay the
beloved friend and master dead. His head rested on his left hand, as
if in tranquil sleep,--not the slightest trace of pain or suffering on
his features. The soul, yearning for the dear objects of its love, had
burst its earthly covering and fled. The immortal master was not
dead,--he had gone home."

Weber died in London in 1826, but it was not until 1844, and then
mainly through the efforts of Wagner, that his remains were taken to
his native land. They now rest in Dresden, where a statue was raised
in 1860 in honour of Carl Maria von Weber, who has been called "The
operatic liberator of Germany."

BEETHOVEN.

"No one can conceive," Beethoven wrote to the Baroness Droszdick, "the
intense happiness I feel in getting into the country, among the woods,
my dear trees, shrubs, hills, and dales. I am convinced that no one
loves country life as I do. It is as if every tree and every bush
could understand my mute inquiries and respond to them." It was this
rage for fresh air and fields which made him such a bad stay-at-home
bird, whether he was sheltered amid the palatial surroundings of some
princely patron, or whether sojourning in the less luxurious and
comfortless atmosphere of some one of his frequently changed lodgings.
He disliked any control, and truly meant it when, at intervals, growing
impatient with the constant requests for his company, he complained
outright that he was forced too much into society. His favourite
places for ruralising were Moedling, Doebling, Hentzendorf, and