THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ
what I wished of him. I answered that I wished him by way of identification to quote a verse or two from one of his works. Then the girl wrote in German the following:
| “ | Ich höre rauschende Musik. Das Schloss ist |
| Von Lichtern hell. Wer sind die Fröhlichen?” | |
| Gay music strikes my ear. The castle is | |
| Aglow with lights. Who are the revelers?” |
We were all struck with astonishment. The sound of the language was much like Schiller's. But none of us remembered for a moment in which of Schiller's works the lines might be found. At last it occurred to me that they might be in the last act of “Wallensteins Tod.” The volume was brought out, and true enough there they were. I asked myself “can it be that this girl, who, although very bright, has never been given to much reading, should have read so serious a work as ‘Wallenstein's Death,’ and if she has, that those verses, which have meaning only in connection with what precedes and follows them, should have stuck in her memory?” I asked her when the séance was over, what she knew about the Wallenstein tragedy, and she, an entirely truthful child, answered that she had never read a line of it.
But something still stranger was in store for me. Schiller's spirit would say no more, and I called for the spirit of Abraham Lincoln. Several minutes had elapsed when the girl wrote that Abraham Lincoln's spirit was present. I asked whether he knew for what purpose President Johnson had summoned me to Washington. The answer came: “He wants you to make an important journey for him.” I asked where that journey would take me. Answer: “He will tell you tomorrow.” I asked further whether I should undertake that journey. Answer: “Yes, do not fail.” (I may add, by the
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