the future,--a model
founded on that power of the singer, which enables him to melt, to
stir to its innermost recesses, the human heart; that power that
enables him to sing as one inspired.

And here let me conclude by venturing a brief prediction. My mind goes
a few years into the future. I attend a concert given by students or
by graduates of Fisk University; I listen to music of the most
classical order rendered in a manner that would satisfy the most
exacting critic of the art; and at the same time I am pleasantly
reminded of the famous "Jubilee Singers" of days in the past by the
peculiarly thrilling sweetness of voice, and the charming simplicity
and soulfulness of manner, that distinguish and add to the beauty of
the rendering.

XX.

THE GEORGIA MINSTRELS.

"All the minstrel art I know,
I the viol well can play;
I the pipe and syrinx blow;
Harp and geige my hand obey;
Psaltery, symphony, and rote
Help to charm the listening throng;
And Armonia lends its note
While I warble forth my song."

_The Lay of the Minstrel._

The origin of troubadours, or minstrels, dates back to the year 1100
(A.D.) at least. There are accounts, somewhat vague, however, which
make them still more ancient. They were at one time almost the sole
producers of poetry and music, always composing the songs they sang,
accompanying the same generally, at first, with the music of the
dulcet-toned harp, and, at a later period, with that of the guitar.

Their accomplishments, especially in music, secured for them the ready
_entree_ of the most refined society, particularly that of elegant
ladies, of whom they were great favorites; while the most polished
princes always extended them a warm welcome.

At one time in their history, the fate of letters was in the sole
keeping of the troubadours. Had it not been for the frequent
presentations and allusions made to literature in their songs, its
chain, connecting past and present, would have been broken.

An elegant French writer, speaking of the ancient troubadours,
observes, "They banished scholastic quarrels and ill-breeding,
polished the manners, established rules of politeness, enlivened
conversation, and purified gallantry. That urbanity that distinguishes
us (the French) from other peoples is the fruit of their songs; and,
if it is not from them that we derive our virtues, they at least
taught us how to render them amiable