with us to the Rhine. She thinks, however, that Eric and I
will remain here; but that will never be. Our home is there. You are
our home. I kiss your eyes, cheeks, mouth, hands. Ah, let me kiss you
once more, once more! You are my--ah! you do not know at all what you
are; but you know that I am
Your daughter,
MANNA DOURNAY.

P.S. Dear Aunt Claudine, send me a great deal more good music, some
soprano songs with harp accompaniment, and send them soon. At every
tone I will think of you, and my naughty little finger, which you took
so much trouble to train, is now perfectly obedient.

[Eric to Weidmann.]

When I stood before Abraham Lincoln, I thought of you, my revered
friend. And because I have known, in my short life, what purely noble
men breathe the same air with me, I was unembarrassed and at my ease.
My lot is an exalted one: I can look in the faces of the best men of my
age. And if wiseacres ever again tell me, condescendingly, that I am an
idealist, I can reply to them, "I must be one, for I have met some of
the noblest of men on my life-road; I not only believe in the elevation
of pure humanity--I know it."

I will only give one incident of our interview.

We heard the opinion expressed, among those who surrounded Lincoln,
that the negroes ought not to be set free, because they would do no
work unless forced.

Roland said to me in a low voice:--

"Do the slaveholders work without being forced?"

Lincoln noticed that the boy was saying something to me, and encouraged
him to speak without reserve. Roland repeated his question quietly but
earnestly. You, who have helped me to awaken this young spirit, will
sympathize in my pleasure.

And now I will tell you about your nephew.

Oh, our blessed German life! In old times travellers took with them
into foreign countries the images of their saints. We Germans carry our
poets, our philosophers and musicians over the face of the whole globe;
and your nephew's pleasant, comfortable, free home is the abode of true
culture. Here, in the midst of the tumult of political and private
life, reign immortal spirits, who bring a devotion, a serenity, a holy
quiet, of a peculiar sort.

Your nephew has done well in always telling me not to believe, with
most people here, that this war will be over in a few months. I now
think not of the end, but only of the next day.

And, in