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Updated: June 8, 2025
At this moment upon the scene arrived the United States frigate Wabash and Hiram Paulding, who landed a force of three hundred and fifty blue-jackets with howitzers, and turned the guns of his frigate upon the camp of the President of Nicaragua. Captain Engel, who presented the terms of surrender to Walker, said to him: "General, I am sorry to see you here.
"Rings Stille herscht es schweigt der Wald, Vollendet ist des Tages Lauf; Der Vögleins Lied ist längst verhallt, Am Himmel ziehn die Sterne auf. Schlaf wohl, schlaf wohl, Und schliess die schönen Augen zu; Schlaf wohl, schlaf wohl, Du süsser, lieber Engel Du." She knew instantly who it must be.
Engel, "brings me to another aspect of authority. I wonder if it has struck you? In mediaeval times, when a bishop spoke ex cathedra, his authority, so far as it carried weight, came from two sources. First, the supposed divine charter of the Church to save and damn. That authority is being rapidly swept away. Second, he spoke with all the weight of the then accepted science and philosophy.
"I am going to trumpet through every street in Berlin that the author of 'Werther, of 'Clavigo, of 'Gotz von Berlichingen, of 'Stella, of the most beautiful poems, is in my humble apartment. I will call in all the little poets and savants of Berlin; I will drag Mammler, Nicolai, Engel, Spaulding, Gedicke, Plumicke, Karschin, and Burman here.
"You will pardon me!" he said penitently, "I forget myself. I did not mean all clergymen." "I have never heard it put so well," Holder declared. "That is exactly what occurs in many cases." "Yes, it is that," said Engel, still puzzled, but encouraged, eyeing the strong face of the other. "And they lament that the ministry hasn't more big men.
He stood by choice outside a hairdresser's window, where a brilliant light shone on each face that passed. Inside the clerks had noticed him. Two of them standing together by the desk spoke of him: "He is there again, the gray man!" "Ah, so! But, yes, there is his back!" "Poor one, it is the Fraulein Engel he waits to see, perhaps." "More likely Le Grande, the American. He is American."
They cannot be induced to return, and the suffering among them is intense. Mothers have given birth out there, and they and their offspring have died from exposure." "Poor creatures!" exclaimed Mrs. Engel. "God pity them and us!" continued Mrs. McLane.
On November 11, 1937, it is just fifty years since Albert R. Parsons, August Spies, Adolph Fischer, George Engel and Louis Lingg, leaders of the great eight-hour day national strike of 1886, were executed in Chicago on the framed-up charge of having organized the Haymarket bomb explosion that caused the death of a number of policemen.
Young McLean was in the reading room, eating his heart out with jealousy of Peter, vacillating between the desire to see Harmony that night and fear lest Peter forbid him the house permanently if he made the attempt. He had found a picture of the Fraulein Engel, from the opera, in a magazine, and was sitting with it open before him.
It was one of the moments when protest would have been trite, superfluous. And Hodder, in truth, felt something great swelling within him, something that was not himself, and yet strangely was. But just what in view of his past strict orthodoxy and limited congregation Mr. Engel meant, he could not have said.
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