United States or Azerbaijan ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Richter uses his persons of both sexes principally to express the conditions of his feeling; they are cockles, alternately dry and sparkling, underneath his mighty ebb and flow. On one point we doubt if the American mind will understand Richter.
"Ach!" exclaimed the German, "now I know you, Mr. Brice. The young one from Boston the Judge spoke of. But you did not tell him of your arrival." "I did not wish to bother him," Stephen replied, smiling. "My name is Richter Carl Richter, sir." The pressure of Mr. Richter's big hands warmed Stephen as nothing else had since he had come West.
Stephen's eyes were opened. Richter took him across the Rhine. The Rhine was Market Street, and south of that street was a country of which polite American society took no cognizance. Here was an epic movement indeed, for South St. Louis was a great sod uprooted from the Fatherland and set down in all its vigorous crudity in the warm black mud of the Mississippi Valley.
He was a model man, one that might be shown to other beings in other parts of the universe as a specimen of collective manhood in its maturest growth." As the guide and master of one of the greatest revolutions of time we look in vain for any one with whom to compare him, and as a revolutionary orator and preacher he had no equal. Richter says, "His words are half-battles."
Richter, who himself had studied a few years before at Halle, gave him, on his return to the university, a letter of introduction to a believing tradesman, of the name of Wagner. It was this brother, concerning whom Beta spoke to me, and in whose house the meeting was held. We went together in the evening.
The officers and gentlemen engaged in the battle were Lieut.-colonel Edward Purden, commanding the whole. Captains Kingston and Rogers, and Lieutenant Calder, of the Royal African Corps; Dr. Young, of the staff; Mr. Henry Richter, merchant, Danish Accra, with his own men, about 120; Mr. I.W. Hanson, merchant, British Accra, with his men, amounting nearly to a similar force; Mr.
One of the greatest of German writers, Jean Paul Richter, declares more than once that he regards Sterne as his master. The statement is amazing. Jean Paul Richter, Jean Paul the Only One, as he was fondly called, was immeasurably sincerer than his master. All that was sham, tinsel, and tawdry in the writings of Yorick was genuine, heart-felt, and soul-inspiring in Jean Paul.
To her was credited in the end even more men than stanch Massachusetts. The noise of preparation was in the city in the land. On the Monday morning, when Stephen went wearily to the office, he was met by Richter at the top of the stairs, who seized his shoulders and looked into his face. The light of the zealot was on Richter's own.
The certainty that the man had dogged him to this remote spot in the West; that he had patiently plodded after the travelers for many a day and night; that even the trackless river had not sufficed to place distance between them; that, undoubtedly, like some wild beast in his lair, he had watched Richter and his companions as they sat or slumbered near their camp-fire these, we may well surmise, served to render the missionary for the moment excessively uncomfortable, and to dull the roseate hues in which he had drawn the future.
He was an intelligent, agreeable young man with plenty of tact. He listened and was apparently interested while Mrs. Ascher poured out her hopes and fears for Ireland's future. When she came, as she did in the end, to her own plan of buying guns for the Nationalist Volunteers Von Richter became almost enthusiastic. "You Americans," he said. "You are always on-the side of the oppressed.
Word Of The Day