He greatly extended the connexions of the firm by the purchase, in , of the publishing business of G. He was succeeded by his younger son, Karl, and by his nephew the son of his sister , Hermann Albert von Reischach. Under their joint partnership, the before-mentioned firms in Leipzig and Landshut, and an artistic establishment in Munich passed into other hands, leaving on the death of Hermann Albert von Reischach, in , Karl von Cotta the sole representative of the firm, until his death in In the firm of J. In the business was converted into a limited liability company.
Johann Friedrich Cotta — , the theologian, was born on the 12th of March , the son of Johann Georg Cotta 2. In , however, he returned, as extraordinary professor of theology, to his Alma Mater, and, after successively filling the chairs of history, poetry and oratory, was appointed ordinary professor of theology in His learning was at once wide and accurate; his theological views were orthodox, although he did not believe in strict verbal inspiration.
He was a voluminous writer. He was educated at Freiberg and Heidelberg and from to he held the professorship of geology in the Bergakademie of Freiberg. Botany at first attracted him, and he was one of the earliest to use the microscope in determining the structure of fossil plants. Later on he gave his attention to practical geology, to the study of ore-deposits, of rocks and metamorphism; and he was regarded as an excellent teacher. His Rocks classified and described: a Treatise on Lithology translated by P. Lawrence, was the first comprehensive work on the subject issued in the English language, and it gave great impetus to the study of rocks in Britain.
He died at Freiberg on the 14th of September Help maintaining Heraldry of the World! Heraldry of the World is a private site, which is on-line since It is a hobby, which takes much time and money books, hosting etc etc. I do not want to use aggressive advertisements on the site, therefore the revenue from the site is very small.
If you would like to support this site, donations are very welcome! You can support the site by donating items stickers, papers, books, pdf, images and other items or financially using the PayPal button below. In an instant she dragged herself from him and was able to raise herself on one knee, still keeping her hold on his throat. He wrenched away her hands, his iron grip on both her wrists, but she was now able to dominate her aggressor from above and could hold him down with the full force of her arms. Face to face with her enemy, she recalled the potency of her witch-gaze.
She narrowed her eyelids and directed her steely glance into the bloodshot eyes of her tormentor. During a few seconds they were thus: the girl half-standing, half-kneeling, rigid, tense, holding the man from her with all her strength. The man sprawling on his side in the chair—a huge, ridiculous being, panting, gasping, helpless, for he could not regain his balance unless he let go the woman's wrists. To Wilhelmine, in spite of her dauntless nature, these few seconds seemed endless. Fortunately for her, no misgivings as to the compelling power of her eyes crossed her mind, or probably her force might thereby have been diminished.
Again he struggled frantically. She resolved to hazard everything, trusting entirely in her strange power. She bent slowly downwards, all the force of her will focused in her eyes. She felt as though each eye held a dagger wherewith she could stab her enemy 's very consciousness. Another moment and the man's hands relaxed entirely and fell limp and inert from her wrists.
She sprang up, catching her cloak in her hand as she fled. For the first time during the whole disgusting scene she felt afraid. Her knees seemed to fail, her feet to grow strangely heavy.
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She stumbled on till she gained the house door. She fumbled frantically at the latch; it was unfamiliar to her and she could not unfasten it. The pursuer was up to her now and his breath was on her cheek.
Once more he threw his arms round her. He staggered for an instant, and she succeeded, at last, in wrenching open the door. He clutched at her skirt as she sprang out. It unbalanced her, and she fell forward on her face into the snow of the street. She rubbed the clinging snow off her face and ruefully considered the distance which lay between her and her mother's house.
The snow had soaked through her thin stockings. Then she started homewards through the fast-falling snow. As she passed the market-place, many faces peered out at her from the venders' booths, and one friendly peasant woman called to her to take shelter, but Wilhelmine shook her head and hastened onwards. She feared that her shoeless feet would awaken curiosity, and she dared not let the people see her torn garments as they assuredly would did she tarry in the booth, for in their homely kindness they would insist on removing her wet cloak.
The Rathaus clock chimed the hour, and Wilhelmine realised with a strange, dream-like feeling that but three hours had gone by since she passed that way to visit Monsieur Gabriel. At length she reached the door of her mother's house. She knocked again and tried to lift the latch, but it was secured within.
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She listened, but could hear no approaching footsteps in the corridor. She leaned against the portal, and wondered if it was her fate to remain in the snow for the rest of the day. Suddenly a thought came to her, which sent the blood tingling in a hot wave to her cheeks: Where was her brother's letter? She felt for it in her bosom; it was not there, and she knew the precious missive must have fallen from her gown during the struggle at the Pfarrhaus. Could she go back and fetch it? Surely your dear Monsieur Gabriel could keep you in the schoolhouse till this storm passed over, and not send you back to catch your death of cold or cost me an apothecary's fee!
I will not permit you to take your soaking clothes upstairs. Come in here and take them off. The old woman saw her daughter's shoeless feet. She looked at her searchingly, her face darkening and hardening from annoyance to real anger and distrust. Where have you been, and why do you come home in this strange and unbecoming manner? But her mother was not to be put off so easily. She drew the girl into the kitchen, and after shutting the larder door in the servant-maid's astonished face, she planted herself firmly in front of Wilhelmine.
It is strange to see a young maiden return in this state of disarray from an interview with a man, and I insist upon your clearing yourself immediately if you can. You go to him for your studies, after two long hours you return looking as though——Good Lord! Wilhelmine looked at her for a moment in silence; it had not struck her that this interpretation of her dishevelled appearance could be harboured even in her mother's suspicious mind.
Somehow, she felt it would not have debased her and humiliated her as had the pastor's attack. For a moment she almost decided to let her mother suspect there had been some strange scene with the organist; anything better than own to the degradation of having suffered the insult of the greasy burgher. Then with a revulsion of feeling, her soul sickened at the injustice of letting Monsieur Gabriel pay the penalty of the pastor's wicked insolence, and she remembered that her friend would be exposed to the horrified reprobation of the sober townsfolk; nay, more, he might even be dismissed from his post.
This was too much for Wilhelmine; her anger flamed, all her reticence vanished, and she poured forth the whole story. But I cannot credit it; you are shielding Monsieur Gabriel. Now go to your room and reflect. You are a sinful woman, Wilhelmine, and a disgrace to your ancient name. The girl turned away. The excitement of the last hours had fatigued her, and she felt an unaccountable apathy. After all, what did it matter if her mother misjudged her?
She would soon be far away; her present life and surroundings appeared to her to be absolutely detached from her real self.freemuse.eywaapps.dk/wp-content/2019-02-26/11485.php
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She went slowly up the creaking stair and into her garret, and flung herself down on the bed. She was asleep almost as soon as her head touched the pillow.
It was quite dark when Wilhelmine woke, and she wondered why she should awaken during the night; then, slowly, remembrance came to her, and she realised that she was still fully dressed. She lay quiet for some time, pondering on the events of the day. The Rathaus clock chimed eight slow notes, and she knew she had slept for nearly nine hours. She listened; there was some one moving downstairs in the kitchen, probably her mother preparing the meagre supper.
Wilhelmine rose, groped her way to the door, and turned the handle. The door remained firmly closed. She shook it gently, pushed it—the doors in her mother's house often stuck fast; but this time it was no accidental adherence of ill-fitting hinges, the door was securely fastened from outside.
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Her mother had locked her in! To be locked into a room had always been a terrible thing to her. When she was a child, her brother had often teased her by pushing her into a dark cupboard and turning the key, and it was the only one of the many tricks he played her which had caused her real alarm.
She hated the dark [ 38 ] and always imagined she was stifling when she knew she was a prisoner in an unlit place. The same feeling came over her now, and she beat her hands frantically against the door, calling her mother loudly the while. But no answer came.
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