e they go--look!--you can
not hear their voices now--only see them!"

Schumann studied law, and had he followed that profession he would have
made a master before a jury. He saw so clearly and felt so deeply, and
was so full of generosity and bubbling good-cheer, that he was
irresistible. As we know, he proved so to Clara Wieck, who left father
and mother and home to cleave to this unknown composer.

This splendid young woman was nine years younger than Robert, but she
had already made a name and fortune for herself before they were
married.

In passing it is well enough to call attention to the fact that this is
one of the great loves of history. It ranks with the mating of Robert
Browning and Elizabeth Barrett. How strange that such things are so
exceptional that the world takes note of them!

Yet for quite a number of years after their marriage, Madame Schumann
was at times asked this question: "Is your husband musical?"

But Robert Schumann, like Robert Browning, was too big a man to be
jealous of his wife. Jealousy is an acknowledgment of weakness and
insecurity. "Robert and Clara," their many dear friends always called
them. They worked together--composed, sang, played, and grew great
together. And as if to refute the carping critics who cry that
domesticity and genius are incompatible, Clara Schumann became the happy
mother of eight children, and not a year passed but she appeared upon
the concert stage, while a nurse held the baby in the wings. Schumann
was very proud of his wife. He was grateful to her for interpreting his
songs in a way he could not. His lavish heart went out to every one who
expressed the happiness and harmony which he felt singing in his soul.

And so he welcomed all players and all singers, and all who felt the
influence of an upward gravitation. Especially was he a friend of the
young and the unknown. His home at Dusseldorf was a Mecca for the
aspiring--worthy and unworthy--and to these he gave his time, money and
influence. "Genius must have recognition--we will discover and bring
forth these beautiful souls; we will liberate and give them to the
world," he used to say. Not only did he himself express great things,
but he quoted others.

Among those who had reverenced the Schumanns from afar, came a young man
of twenty, small and fair-haired, from Hamburg. He was received at the
regular "Thursday Night" with various other strangers. These meetings
were quite informal, and everybod