trance.
Of this music no chord or melody was true; they were jangling memories
of his earlier works.

"One day he called his wife and myself, and took our hands in his
own:--'Beethoven says that my earthly music is over; it cannot be
understood here; he writes for angels, and I shall write for them.'
Then, turning to me, he said,--'Louis, my friend, farewell! This is my
last prayer for you,'--handing me the paper which I have shown you; 'and
now leave us, to come again and kiss me when I am cold.'

"Then I left him alone with his Clara.

"A month from that time, Schumann was no more."

* * * * *

Out under the glowing sunset, I clasped hands parting with Louis
Boehner, and said, as my voice would let me.--"Take this paper, and when
you would have a friend, such as you have been to Robert Schumann, come
and help me to be that friend."

* * * * *

THE FREEDMEN AT PORT ROYAL.

Two questions are concerned in the social problem of our time. One is,
Will the people of African descent work for a living? and the other is,
Will they fight for their freedom? An affirmative answer to these must
be put beyond any fair dispute before they will receive permanent
security in law or opinion. Whatever may be the theses of philosophers
or the instincts of the justest men, the general sense of mankind is not
likely to accord the rights of complete citizenship to a race of
paupers, or to hesitate in imposing compulsory labor on those who have
not industry sufficient to support themselves. Nor, in the present
development of human nature, is the conscience of great communities
likely to be so pervasive and controlling as to restrain them from
disregarding the rights of those whom it is perfectly safe to injure,
because they have not the pluck to defend themselves. Sentiment may be
lavished upon them in poetry and tears, but it will all be wasted. Like
all unprivileged classes before them, they will have their full
recognition as citizens and men when they have vindicated their title to
be an estate of the realm, and not before. Let us, then, take the world
as we find it, and try this people accordingly. But it is not pertinent
to any practical inquiry of our time to predict what triumphs in art,
literature, or government they are to accomplish, or what romance is to
glow upon their history. No Iliad may be written of them and their woes.
No Plutarch may gather the live