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Jacobi writes: "The more I think of it, the more impossible it seems to me to communicate to any one who has not seen Goethe any conception of this extraordinary creature of God." Lavater says: "Unspeakably sweet, an indescribable appearance, the most terrible and lovable of men."
Not as little as we dare, but as much as we can. Malcolm wrote to Dinah that afternoon, giving her a full account of his interview with Leah Jacobi; then he spent the rest of the day making up arrears of work. The last post brought him a reproachful little note from Anna. "Mother thinks you have forgotten us. Why are you staying away in this unmannerly fashion, you naughty boy?" she wrote.
But immediately at their first meeting, sitting at table "by the side," he says, "of this glorious youth, I was radically cured of all my vexation.... Since this morning," he wrote to Jacobi, "my soul is as full of Goethe as a dewdrop is of the morning sun." And to Zimmermann: "He is in every respect the greatest, best, most splendid human being that ever God created." Goethe was then twenty-six.
They discovered that Henrik had become considerably paler as well as thinner, which Henrik received as a compliment to his studies. Jacobi wished also a compliment on his studies, but it was unanimously refused to him on account of his blooming appearance. He protested that he was flushed with the weather, but that availed nothing.
"Master Jacobi, are you fond of roast hare?" whispered Petrea, waggishly, to the Candidate. "Bravo, Petrea!" whispered her brother to her. "Cousin Louise, are you fond of cold meat?" asked the Landed-proprietor, as he handed Louise to the supper-table. "Should you like to be a landed-proprietor?" whispered Henrik to her as she left it.
The young people remarked, that whatever might for the time occupy Jacobi, he was somewhat absent and incomprehensible; he sighed frequently, and seemed rather to enjoy quiet conversation with the ladies than charades and other amusements.
Although every one in the company had had an exciting and fatiguing day, the young people began immediately after supper, as if according to a natural law, to arrange themselves for the dance. Jacobi, who appeared to be captivated by Sara's appearance, led her in the magic circle of the waltz.
They poured forth their adventures: Brigitta shed tears over her "Little angel-sweet Mamselle Petrea;" and the father, from the impulse of his feelings, pressed Jacobi to his heart. After Petrea's scratches and bruises had been washed with Riga-balsam, the mother permitted the children to have a supper of pancakes and raspberry-cream, in order to console them for the unfortunate expedition.
Mary Putnam Jacobi in the Boylston prize essay for 1876; showing that menstrual life is associated with a wave of well-marked vital energy, which manifests itself in a monthly fluctuation of the tempera ture of the body, in the daily amount of the excretion of urea and of carbonic acid, and of the rate and tension of the pulse.
As to the rareness of the calls, I read of seven wars since the Revolution, and three insurrections, not counting the riots and strikes at Chicago, Homestead, Brooklyn, and in the mountains in the West. Dr. Jacobi said in an article in the "New York Sun," two years ago, "We do not vote for war."
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