The matchless Malibran, whose serious illness, in the midst of

the Festival at Manchester, was mentioned in the Spectator of the 17th September, died at Manchester, in the Mosley Arms Inn, on the night of Friday the 23d. She had been getting gradually worse from the pre- ceding Tuesday. On Thursday she became insensible ; and her Italian physician, Dr. Bellernini, who had been btonght from I.ondoe to attend her, held a consultation with Mr. Lewis, a surgeon in Man- chester. Mr. Lewis is understood to have given an opinion that although the patient was in an early stage of pregnancy, this had no influence

ce on the complaint under which she was suffering: t is not mentioned what that complaint was. She rallied a little on Friday morning, but soon :relapsed, and at twenty minutes before twelve she expired. There is no doubt that her death was hastened by her exer- tions to sing at the:Manchester Festival.

The papers teem with biographical notices of Madame Malibran, from which we select the most interesting particulars. She was the daughter of Garcia, the Spanish tenor-singer, and was born in Paris. She came to London when a child.

"It was about the year 1824 (says a writer in the Morning Chronicle) that her great talents began tube known to the English public. In that year, having

distinguished herself at some of the concerts of the season, and made a success-

ful debbt at the Opera-house, she received an engagement as one of the prin- cipal singers at the York Festival of the following year. At the time when she obtained this proof of her musical rank she was a mere girl. We have not, at present, the means of ascertaining the date of her birth ; but we have reason to believe that she had not reached the age of thirty when prematurely cut off; and when she appeared in York Minster, in 1825, she could not have been more than eighteen. The Committee met, beforehand, with much censure for placing a raw girl in such a situation, and a signal failure was anticipated by many sa- gacious critics. But her youth, her beauty, and her modesty, made an imme- diate impression in her favour ; and her singing excited an unanimous feeling of admiration and delight. She had a considerable share of duty assigned her, not only in the evening concerts, but in the performances of the morning, and showed herself conver,ant with the sacred strains of Handel and Haydn, as well as the dramatic music of Mozart and Rossini. In the Messiah she sang the air Rejoice greatly,' with great power and elevation of sentiment ; and in the Creation, she gave the air, On mighty pens,' descriptive of the creation of the feathered tribes, with a degree of mingled brilliancy, delicacy, and sweetness, which, perhaps, she alone has been able to impart to that exquisite composition. Her career of European reputation, thus brilliantly begun, was interrupted for a time by her father's project of establishing an Italian opera in America, where this species of entertainment was as yet unknown. He car- ried with him to New York a very inefficient company, and began to perform Ita- lian operas in the end of the year 1/325. He himself was by this time somewhat passe, and the weight of the undertaking rested on the youthful shoulders of his daughter. The operas were poorly got up and feebly performed ; but Ma- demoiselle Garcia was a host in herself, and her talents appear to have been appreciated by the Transatlantic dilettanti. Still, however, the powers of a single performer were insufficient to give the American public a taste for a kind of music so entirely new to them. The speculation proved unsuccessful, the company was broken up, ad most of the performers returned to Europe."

Here we must avail ourselves of some peculiar means of knowledge which ow:selves possess, to do justice to brother Jonathan. Thorigla Garcia's operas were poorly got up, the two which were tolerably performed, namely, Don Giovanni and 11 Barbiere di Seviglia, always drew full houses. But Garcia would give a miserable opera of his own (we forget the name of it), and portions of La Cenerentola, which none of his company except his daughter took the trouble to learn.. Garcia himself would spend whole mornings in the auction-shops of New York, purchasing silks for a Mexican speculation. The musical tone in which he chanted forth his name " Garcia" as the purchaser of a lot, sounded strangely in the crowded and dark auction-room. "In the beginning of 1806 (we again quote the Chronicle), she married AL ; Malibran, a Frenchman, who was then reputed one of the richest merchants in New York ; but he either deceived her very grossly, or was as grossly ignorant of the state of his own affairs ; for he became a bankrupt very soon after their marriage. By the marriage settlement a provision had been secured to his wife ; but this she gave up to his creditors, determined to owe her subsistence entirely to her own honourable exertions."

In reference to h. r marriage, the

The most laudable motives we dare not reveal, and sorrows of a nature we cannot allude to, induced the young Maria, the admired of all men, to marry at this time an elderly French me, chant at New York, M. Malibran. This tilt rchont almost immediately afterwards failed, and was cast into prison; and 3:adarne Malibran, freed from the dominion of her father, and driven to the hsceasity of exertion, came over to Europe."

Here again we must draw upon our peculiar resources. M. Eugene Malibran was never considered a very wealthy man. He lived in moderate style, and passed for the possessor of about fifteen or twenty thoubantl. pouattir, at Coe must. But she shosehiei of Gal CliS tunis,,heft gladly seized almost any honourable mode of escape from her father's control; Garcia is believed to have been not only a brute in his treat- ment of her, but to have been willing to make over his daughter to any- body of sufficient wealth to recompense him for the loss of her services.. We have heard that he had only a small sum from Malibran, but that it was offered when he was in great need of it. Soon after her return from America, Madame Malibran appeared in Paris ; and the following criticism on her performance is quoted by the Morning Chronicle from a Paris journal of the day.

" The singer, at her entrance, was greeted with warm applause. lire commanding figure, and the regularity of her features, [here the critic's ima- gination comes in aid of his eyesight, j bespoke the favour of the public. The Ile and dignified manner in which she gave the first phrase, Fria tanti regi e populi; justified the reception she had obtained ; but the difficult phrase, The writer in the Chronicle pays the following tribute to the private worth of the deceased Prima Donna.

"We have spoken of Madame Malibran as an artist: others are better able to speak of her ass woman; but we have known awl learned et gli of her to have it in our power to sly, that few women have been more richly endowed with the highest virtues of the female character. Plunged at a tender age into Circumstances of deep adversity, her sacrifices to integrity were haute, and she • remained wholly inuen related by the prosperity of hei latter days. Her feel- ings retained their primitive war null, her tastes their primitive simplicity. Notwithstanding the 'seductions of her profeseion, her pleasures lay in the occu- pations of domestic life, and in acts of geeertwity. Large as was the revenue which she derived from the exercise of her unequalled alled talents, t was as worthily applied as well deserved. Perhaps there never was an income earned by the cilia tams of a public pet former—exertions which broke her constitution and brought her to an untimely grave—of which so large a portron wandered, heaven.directed, to the poor.' She was devoid of ostentatiun, and her beneti- uent deeds were known to few. But they were of daily occurrence, for they coustituted the greatest happiness of her life. Living among the sons and daughters of pleasure, her only luxury was the luxury of doing good ; and, in the midst of wealth, her only profusion arose from benevolence. The regret felt by the world for the loss of an adniired and cherished artist will be feeble compared with the grief with which many a humble family will lament the death of their benefactress. Madame Alalibran's nusiriagir with M. de Beriot, which toed( place after the dissolution of her fornier union, proved as happy as the former was uefortunate. They were devotedly attached to each other ; and Ow suarvavar, overwhelmed by such a blow, is indeed an object of the deepest sympathy."

De Beriot fainted on being told of his wife's death. Almost imme- diately afterwards, be took his departure for London—by the advice of his physician, it is said—leaving directions with Mr. Beale, a music- seller in Manchester, to make proper arrangements for his wife's fu- neral to allow no post ?Norton exatnination of the body, or any cast of the head.

Mr. Beide applied to the Festival Committee for assistance and advice ; and on Airealay tile Committee held a meeting and appointed a sub-committee. It was determined that the funeral, which is fixed for today, should be a puhlic one ; und Air. Beale was directed to write to his brother in London (of the house of Cramer, Addison, and Beale), to tind out De Beriot, and invite him to attend as chief I Teems ii tempio,' proved a stwohlinghlock she could not surmount. Alarmed by Aar check, she did no attempt the aifficult passage in the du cap°, but, dropping her voice, terminated the paseage without effect, and made her exit, leaving the public in doubt and diseatisfaction. The prodigious talent displayed Prsurom in the sulerequent scenes gave occasion to comparisons by no means favoutable to Madame Malibran. On her reentrance she was coldly leceived ; but she soon succeeded in winning ivet the public to her favour. In the andante to the air raggio losinghier,' the young singer threw out such powers, and displayed a voice so full and beautiful, that the fortner coldness gave way to applause. Encouraged by this, she hazarded the greatest diffi- velem of execution, and appeared so inspired by her euccess that her courage toga became temerity. Madame Malibran Gateie is only nineteen ; she is just arrived from North America, where she has been precluded hum profiting by any models of excellence, and therefore she requires that finish whieh caa only Leisarned frpn experience, and by profitMg by the counsels of -mind criticism.' We quote this passage, not only because the description is graphic, hut because we believe the criticism on the whole to have been just. The Aristarches, in speaking of her failure in some arduous passages, does not make sufficient allOwance for the debitt of a girl of nineteen ; but judgieg even from her ma- tured performances, we readily believe that the inspiration of success converted her courage into temetity."

From the period of her Parisian debut, Mulihran's musical career was most triumphant-

" The whole of the dilettanti of Paris were kept constantly in raptures, and every night she concluded her pet formances amidst a thunder of applause and a Shower of flowers ; whilst a number of men ofall ages who adoted the very foot- steps of the chaste and beautiful eantatrice, followed her carriage to her door, and remained hours afterwards in the street with their eye, fixed on her win- dows, as if they were under the influence of magnetism. Malibran then came to 'England ; and we need not recall the effect, never to be ingotteta her seeoud debut produced at the King's Theatre. Year after year her triumphs here were reproduced. In Italy the eiohneiasm she exeited was beyond all description. Duke Visconti, proprietor of La Scale at Milan, offeree 6000/. per annum, a carriage, a table, anal bulging of the most sumptuous kind at his expense, inde• pendent of a benefit, if she would perform at his theatre for duce years during the season. This elie accepted."

At the conclusion of the Milan engagement she came to England-

" Our readers know that her last, and, we may add, her greatest triumphs were gained in the character of an English singer and an English actre-a. The multitudes who, dining the last two seasons, were drawn to Drury Lane Theatie by the attraction of her name, were at once the givers and witnesses of those tsiumphs; and those who, in the Collegiate Church of Manchestet, listened to her dying song will long have their remembrance of the rapture with winch she inspired them mingled with sorrow for her untimely fate."

She was very unwell when she arrived in Manchester, and was much irritated by the refusal of the Festival Committee to alter their pro- gramme according so her wishes. She also over.exerted herself sadly. A correspondent of the Post says- " In the evening prior to the first day's performance at the Collegiate Church, she sang no less time fourteen pieces in her room at the hotel anmeest her Italian (deride. De Beriot ceutioned her against exerting hereelf, but ilibran was not to be easily checked iu her career. Th;, fatigue meet h ave added to her already exciteahle nature. She was ill on Tutailiy, bur she ineieted upon singing both morning and evening. Oti Wednesday her indiepo.ition was still more evident ; but she give the last sacred cempositimi elle ever eieg. Sing ye to the Lord,' with electric:II iffett ; ;eel on tat evening, the 14th el Septem- ber, her last notes in public were bread. It was in the duet with Caradori Allan, in Mercadante's Venue se alberghi in pettoa ft on elndrmdeo. It is not a little curious that they sing this fleet for the filet time at C iradori All an's benefit concert last season, tuel that the borer was d tug.r■ns,ly ill for necks afterwards. This time it was point alibi aims turn, but with the :west fetal result. Iler exertions in the encore of this duet e-ere treineudoue, and tao fear- ful shake at the top of the wave will never be forgotten by toose who heard it. It was a desperate etruggle against sinking nature—it was the laet vivid glare of the aspiring Lamp: she never sang afterwards. The houee rang with animated cheering— hats and haudkerchiele were waving—but the victim of excitement, whilst the echoes were yet in her ears, sunk exhausted after leaving the stage, said her vocal career was terminated. She was bled, removed lllll and her agonizing cries that night will not be erased from the memnry of the writer of Ibis article, who was within a short distance of the room in which she expired. She constantly ejaculated, • Je m'etouffe, 0, mon cher mid !' " mourner. The reply to this letter was, that De Beriot had left Lon- don for Antwerp or Brussels. His unexplained conduct has excited much surprise and unfavourable animadversion.