LIBRARY OF 
 
 J. EUGENE REED. 
 
 no. 
 
 1125 LELAND, C. G. Letters to a Ladv (from the 
 German). First ed. 12 clothflMfi^- ' Phila., 1864 
 
/ 
 
LETTERS TO A LADY. 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2014 
 
 https://archive.org/details/letterstolady01humb 
 
LETTERS TO A LADY 
 
 B Y 
 
 WILHELM VON HUMBOLDT. 
 
 jFrow t !) e (Sermau. 
 
 WITH AN INTRODUCTION 
 
 B Y 
 
 CHARLES GODFREY LELAND. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 
 FREDERICK LEYPOLDT. 
 New York: F. W. Christern. 
 18G4. 
 
CAXTO.V PRESS OF C. SHERMAX, SOX & CO., PHILADELPHIA. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Karl Wilhelm, Baron von Humboldt, elder brother 
 of the eminent naturalist, Friedrich Heinrich Alexan- 
 der von Humboldt, was born in Potsdam, June 22, 17G7, 
 and died at Tegel, April 8, 1835. From early youth his 
 education was carefully conducted by such teachers as the 
 celebrated Campe, the philosophers Engel, Kunth, Fi- 
 scher, and von Dohm ; while at the universities of Frank- 
 fort and Göttingen he was either the pupil or intimate 
 friend of Heyne the philologist, Jacobi, Johannes von 
 Müller, and other eminent men of ability. He had in- 
 deed, from boyhood, an intense desire to profit by intellec- 
 tual intercourse. "My passion was," said he, "to be 
 near celebrated men, to study them with care, to realize 
 accurately their manner of living and thinking. I asso- 
 ciated each with general ideas ; I classed men and minds, 
 and made of them, so to speak, a special science. " 
 
 On the breaking out of the French revolution, Hum- 
 boldt, who entertained liberal sympathies, went with his 
 friend, "the honest and naif Campe," to Paris (1789). 
 He there greatly extended the circle of his observations, 
 
 (iii) 
 
iv 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 but was soon convinced of the impossibility of founding a 
 state on untried theories. He incorporated his views in 
 two works, combating the theory common to both radical 
 socialists and despots, which declares that the individual 
 should be subordinated to the state, and contending for 
 individual liberty; a doctrine coinciding with the practical 
 Republicanism of the present day in the United States. 
 "That," says he, "is the most perfect type of society, 
 where there are the fewest hinderances to the legitimate 
 development of every man's powers.." Returning to Ger- 
 many he devoted himself, under the guidance of Heyne 
 and Wolf, to Greek literature and art ; and subsequently, 
 during his close intimacy with Schiller and Goethe, to 
 {esthetics, philosophy, and poetry. In 1791 he married 
 Caroline Dacherode, a lady of brilliant mind and fasci- 
 nating manners, who shared with enthusiasm his studies, 
 and became, under his tuition, a good Greek scholar. On 
 the death of his father, in 1797, he began his travels, or 
 rather his residences, in France and Spain, during which 
 time he was occupied with his system of comparative an- 
 thropology, or a philosophical history of mental develop- 
 ment, in which every phase of literature should be traced 
 to a corresponding civilization. It was at this time that 
 philology, which is now, in ethnology, what color is in 
 painting, was beginning to assume its present import- 
 ance ; and Wilhelm von Humboldt was, in the words of 
 Saint Rene Taillandier, "the real creator of compara- 
 tive philology. Before him great minds, Hamann, Her- 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 V 
 
 der, Adelung, and Frederick Schlegel, had laid the way 
 and given indications of genius ; but Humboldt was the 
 first who made of it a science." 
 
 Returning to Germany in 1801, he was appointed Prus- 
 sian resident minister at Rome ; and during an active 
 public career, until the year 1820, distinguished himself 
 as much in diplomacy as in letters. " Europe/' said Tal- 
 leyrand, " has not three statesmen of such ability as 
 Humboldt." When, on the 10th of August, 1813, Aus- 
 tria signed the treaty by which she decisively engaged to 
 take part in the alliance of Europe against Napoleon, 
 Baron von Stein uttered a cry of exultation, and in a 
 letter to the court of Munster attributed the honor of this 
 resolution on the part of Austria " to the influence of 
 Wilhelm von Humboldt." His influence and activity 
 were not less remarkable at the Congresses of Frankfort, 
 of Chatillon, of Paris, and finally at that of Vienna, in 
 all of which he represented Prussia with extraordinary 
 ability. "A remarkable clearness of perception, and ad- 
 mirable purity of principle, characterized," says Tail- 
 landier, " his political negotiations. He excelled in 
 guessing the secret thoughts of his adversaries, in dis- 
 covering the vulnerable points of their arguments, and in 
 leading them little by little towards principles which they 
 could not reject without compromising their cause. To 
 this merciless clearness of intelligence [clarU impitoyable 
 de V esprit] he often added a delicate, polished, cutting 
 irony — the irony of a philosopher and refined courtier." 
 
vi 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 It was the perseverance and argument of Humboldt 
 which finally prevailed on Metternich to join in the 
 European Alliance of 1813. 
 
 Until 1820, Wilhelm von Humboldt served his country 
 in several important positions. lie was ambassador to 
 London, and a member of the ministry at Berlin, where 
 h< j had previously distinguished himself by important re- 
 forms in education. But when, in 1819, the Prussian 
 government, false to the promises made to the people in 
 the hour of danger, refused to introduce the representative 
 system and grant a constitution, and when, in short, under 
 the shallow pretence of punishing democracy, it attacked 
 national liberty, Humboldt firmly opposed its policy, and 
 was, consequently, dismissed from the ministry, and de- 
 prived of his state appointments. From this time he 
 devoted his life to science and literature, to domestic 
 happiness, and philosophic and religious meditations. 
 The death of his wife, in 1829 — a woman in every 
 way worthy of him — had been well-nigh a death-blow, 
 and in a very few years he was called on to mourn the 
 loss of Goethe, and most of his friends of "the great 
 generation." Weak in body, and almost blind, his mind 
 was, however, as clear as ever, in which state he died, on 
 the 8th of August, 1835, in all the vigor of his mental 
 powers, in full serenity of mind ; and as his pure soul 
 fled from its earthly prison, there passed from his lips, 
 like a prayer, a verse from the poet whom he had 
 loved. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 VÜ 
 
 "But that Wilhelm von Humboldt," says a German 
 writer, "was, in addition to his gifts as a truly great 
 statesman and scholar, also a tender and assiduous friend, 
 a true man of the world, and one noble in all things, the 
 public in general first learned from his Letters to a Female 
 Friend, which contain a marvellous wealth of the shrewdest 
 observations and judgments, and tenderest and noblest 
 feelings. From either in a moral or intellectual point of 
 view they are a mass of gems in German literature. " 
 
 The history of this work — a partial English translation 
 from which I have been requested to edit for the first time 
 for the American public — is as follows. In 1788, Hum- 
 boldt, while as yet a student, passed three days at Pyr- 
 mont in company with a young lady, Charlotte (afterward, 
 it is said, Madame von Stein), who was with her father, 
 a clergyman, a guest at a hotel. Twenty-six years later 
 this lady — who had, in the interval, suffered much during 
 an extraordinary and eventful life, and been reduced to 
 poverty by the voluntary sacrifice of her property to the 
 state in ite "dire need" — renewed the acquaintance 
 with Humboldt, who, in the most delicate manner, aided 
 her in her want, and consoled her sorrows with this corre- 
 spondence. He found in her a person of " unaffected 
 elegance and originality of thought," gifted with a purely 
 feminine and religious character. In his own letters to 
 her we have a book, almost sui generis ; the unexpected 
 revelation of the deepest and noblest feelings of a great 
 man, in the form of advice or refined counsel in letters to 
 
viii 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 a lady — forming a work which every woman may study to 
 advantage, and which should be placed in the hands of 
 every girl. 
 
 Much of the original correspondence was never pub- 
 lished ; and the editor believes that, as the spirit of all 
 collections of letters can invariably be given in a selec- 
 tion, a larger circle of readers will be secured and more 
 good be done by the publication of this first series, con- 
 taining the cream of the whole, than if the entire mass — 
 a bulky work — had been given. This is certainly true 
 as regards the young, for whom it is specially commended. 
 
 As it is, this volume is a classic in European literature, 
 and without a rival among works intended to refine, edify, 
 and ennoble the minds of women. 
 
 Charles Godfrey Leland. 
 
 Note. — The reader desirous of studying more fully the Life of 
 Wilhelm von Humboldt may consult the article, hy Taillandier, 
 in Didot's NouveJle Biographie Generale, Paris, 1858; Erinnerun- 
 gen an Wilhelm von Humboldt, hy Gustav Schlesier, Stutt- 
 gart, 1843-45; Wilhelm VON Humboldt, Lebensbild und Charak- 
 teristik, hy Robert Haym, Berlin, 1856; W. von Humboldt, Licht- 
 strahlen aus seinen Brie/en, by Eliza Maier, Leipsic, 1850; Lives 
 of the Brothers Humboldt, Alexander and William, translated 
 and arranged from the German of Klencke and Schlesier, by 
 Juliette Bauer, New York, 1853, with portraits; and the Memoir 
 of Wilhelm von Humboldt, contributed by myself to Vol. IX. 
 of Appleton's Cyclopcedia. New York, 1863. 
 
LETTERS TO A LADY. 
 
 BY 
 
 WILHELM VON HUMBOLDT. 
 
 LETTER I. 
 
 Vienna, 3d December, 1814. 
 
 I cannot express the pleasure with which I re- 
 ceived early this morning your letter of the 18th 
 of October. I always considered our meeting at Pyr- 
 mont as something more than the result of chance, 
 and you err very much, if you suppose that you 
 passed away from my memory with the fleeting 
 images of my youth. I often thought of, and often 
 inquired after you, but in vain ; and concluded that 
 you had married and long since forgotten me in the 
 bosom of your family, in the midst of your children, 
 and, if at all, remembered me but as one of the pass- 
 ing objects of your youthful days. I now learn with 
 surprise, how much less simple your life has been 
 
 (11) 
 
12 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 than I had supposed it, and must think that, had 
 you communicated with me in your season of trouble, 
 you would have found my advice of some value. 
 Believe me, my dear Charlotte, — excuse this familiar 
 address, only you and I read our letters, — men have 
 not trust enough in their fellow men. I now learn 
 for the first time how much deeper an impression I 
 made on you than I ever imagined. Your hand- 
 writing, which I now see after so long an interval, 
 speaks to me as from another world. I have the 
 good fortune, — good fortune I indeed consider it, — 
 to be ashamed of none of my youthful sentiments, 
 and to be now, believe me, as ingenuous as then. 
 Every word of your letter has affected me ; you 
 have my entire sympathy and thanks for the kind- 
 ness which has thought me worthy of your confi- 
 dence. Write to me, then, if you think me worth 
 the trouble, without reserve, with that reliance 
 w T hich I might, perhaps, have had a right to expect 
 from you, had I ever seen you again. You are very 
 wrong in saying that a woman's soul retains im- 
 pressions more lastingly than a man's. I could 
 prove to you the contrary from your own letters. 
 Confess, (I will not reproach you,) but remember 
 that twenty-six years have elapsed since our first 
 short acquaintanceship, and that we shall never, it 
 
tiUMB OL D T 'S LET TER S, 
 
 13 
 
 is most probable, meet again, — confess that I passed 
 from your thoughts almost as soon as I passed from 
 your presence. You have forgotten the promise which 
 I made to visit you again, the non-performance of 
 which has caused me so much grief. Now, I could 
 yet point out the bank in the lane where we were 
 sitting when I made it ; I wished to pay you an- 
 other visit, but was prevented by my youthful ped- 
 antry, which would not allow me to delay for a week 
 my return to Göttingen. I feel certain that it was 
 our destiny never to meet again in this life, and am 
 only sorry that I have not had an opportunit}^ of 
 doing you some service ; you may be quite assured 
 that no painful sentiments would have disturbed us, 
 had you communicated with me earlier. I have no 
 apprehensions of that sort, You will understand, 
 after this confession, the interest which I take in 
 your welfare. It has occupied my thoughts all this 
 day. I beseech you to trust yourself, for the pre- 
 sent, entirely to my guidance. I have more expe- 
 rience of the world than you, and I know as well as 
 you what a mind in your condition must require. 
 Give up all your little plans, confide in me entirely, 
 and you will do me the greatest favor in your power. 
 What you need, what your health and your heart 
 need, is rest. The anxiety which you have experi- 
 
14 
 
 H I MB OL I) T >S LETTERS. 
 
 enced in seeking for the means of support has worn 
 out both. You were, when I knew you, I well re- 
 collect, in very good health. Remain quiet for a 
 twelvemonth, repose after the storms you have en- 
 countered, and your health will be as good as ever. 
 This is the best counsel for your future plans. He 
 who seeks when he needs, finds with difficulty. If 
 a man can but get a season of repose, his affairs 
 soon go straight of themselves. Time will direct 
 both you and me as to your future plans. I con- 
 sider it my duty to speak quite openly to you. 
 Would that you had thus dealt with me! The 
 duke's letters are very kind, and do him much 
 honor; but it is very evident, as you may learn 
 from your friend's letters, that he can give you no 
 assistance. All these things you must leave to time 
 and fate. Let it be my privilege, however, to pro- 
 cure for you a twelvemonth's rest — a season of re- 
 pose from all your little anxieties. It is my earnest 
 request, dear Charlotte, and I hope you will not re- 
 fuse it. To do so would be a very false delicacy, 
 and I need scarcely say that none but ourselves will 
 know anything of the matter. I am not rich, but I 
 can learn from your letters, and it increases my 
 respect for you and the interest which I take in your 
 welfare, that your wants are few and simple. I en- 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 If) 
 
 close you a bank bill, which, I know, will serve but 
 for a few months ; but I entreat you to send me a 
 full and particular account of all you need, including 
 the expenses of a course of mineral waters. Be 
 quite certain that I never do more than quite suits 
 my means; if ever your circumstances should change 
 very much for the better, you can repay me ; but 
 understand that my wish is, that you should have a 
 whole year's rest, in which, undisturbed by any 
 cares, you may mature your future plans. I can 
 judge very well, from the delineations which you 
 have given me of your own character, to what I ex- 
 pose myself in making you this offer. I know 
 how probable it is that you may reject it with 
 disdain and reproaches. But I persevere in my 
 plan, for I am convinced it is the one most suited to 
 your present position. Do not, dear Charlotte, sup- 
 pose from this, that I should think it in any way 
 improper for you to earn your own subsistence by 
 your own exertions. I only wish you to delay 
 them till your health is re-established ; in its pre- 
 sent state they would destroy you. Believe me, if 
 you should look to others, you would find no one 
 answering you so unselfishly, and with so little pre- 
 tension. Others would suppose that they did you a 
 favor ; in my case you are doing one. I will now 
 
16 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 leave this subject, to give, as you requested, some 
 account of myself. I married, as you say you have 
 heard, three years after I met with you, and have 
 had eight children, five of whom are now living. I 
 married simply for love, and have been happier per- 
 haps than any other man in my marriage. I have 
 had the misfortune during the last two years to be 
 taken away very frequently from my sick wife by 
 the duties of my office, as is now the case. As you 
 have heard of me so frequently, you have heard, no 
 doubt, that I was for some time ambassador at 
 Rome. I accepted the post only for the sake of the 
 country, and, but for unhappy occurrences, should 
 never, probably, have left it. The performance of 
 my duties, which I consider a matter of conscience, 
 has, since then, tossed me about in various direc- 
 tions. But this mode of life is little suited to my 
 inclinations, which desire simplicity and repose. 
 During the war I was at head-quarters, after that 
 in England, and then I went to visit my wife, who 
 was residing in Switzerland. At present I am 
 attending the congress here, and she is at her 
 estate, and is about to proceed to Berlin, where I 
 shall meet her on my way to Paris, as ambassador, 
 whither, somewhat later, she will follow me. My 
 eldest son has been an officer in active service from 
 
HUMBOLDT 'S LETTERS. 
 
 his sixteenth year ; he was severely wounded some 
 short time since, but has returned, I rejoice to say, 
 perfectly convalescent. Besides him, I have another 
 boy and three girls. My two youngest daughters 
 have been brought up in Italy, and when they first 
 came to Vienna, could not speak a syllable of Ger- 
 man. I wish you could see them ; they are two 
 delightful little creatures. I had the misfortune to 
 lose two sons in Rome, and one of my daughters 
 died whilst with her mother on a journey to Paris. 
 These are my outward misfortunes. Of the dis- 
 tresses of my soul, I may speak but cannot write. 
 
 Receive, again, my hearty thanks. I know not 
 whether I shall ever see you again ; I scarcely dare 
 to hope it. I cannot form any picture in my mind 
 of your present appearance. But as I still retain a 
 vivid recollection of your former appearance, in 
 spite of the brief period of our acquaintance, believe 
 that my friendship for you was never, and never 
 shall be fleeting. 
 
 Ever yours, H. 
 I return the original letters and the memoir. 
 
18 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 LETTER II. 
 
 Vienna, 18th December ,814. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, 
 
 Many thanks for your delightful letter. You 
 really esteem too highly that which is so 
 simple and could not be otherwise. I have never 
 forgotten you, never could forget you, but had no 
 idea that you would hear anything of me, or recol- 
 lect me if you did. Suddenly, you declare to me, 
 that in spite of all the circumstances which have 
 separated us, you have cherished the memory of our 
 youthful meeting even more vividly and dearly 
 than I. In the joy and emotion which your declara- 
 tion has awakened within me, I have and ever will 
 answer you. Do not on that account withdraw the 
 confidence which you have reposed in me ; ever 
 write to me as freely and trustingly as now ; feel 
 towards me as I feel towards you, and remember 
 that your letters can never be too long or too 
 copious. A woman's unreserved confidence is the 
 greatest compliment and happiness which a man 
 can receive. I have, of course, no sort of claim to 
 this from you, in whose memory I must hold a very 
 unimportant and ill-defined position. But I must 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 L9 
 
 tear myself from business, cares and amusements, 
 in order to be able to become somewhat to you. 
 And how delighted should I be, if you were to con- 
 tinue to confide in me the feelings of your outward 
 and inner life as unreservedly as )^ou have just de- 
 clared the respect with which I long ago inspired 
 you. Pray write to me frequently. You express 
 yourself very naturally and very well, and I am as 
 pleased as a child when I see your pretty hand- 
 writing, which I recollect so well of old. Above 
 all things write to me of yourself. Your last letter 
 contained scarcely a word about your health. Let 
 me know whether your strength and spirits are 
 improving. One favor I must especially request of 
 you, which is, not to delay writing to me until you 
 have received an answer to your last letter; be so 
 kind as not to expect an equality of letters between 
 us, for, as you know I have very little time at my 
 own command, I can write but seldom, and then 
 hurriedly ; do not ask more of me. You will dis- 
 cover, perhaps, in this request more of candor than 
 is right ; but I do not deny that I am very selfish, 
 and am willing to lower the far too exalted place 
 which I at present hold in your opinion. 
 
 You ask whether you should reside in Göttingen 
 
 or Brunswick, and wish to be guided by me. That 
 2 
 
20 Hi MBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 is a tender point with me. I am very glad when 
 any one follows my opinion. I should rather that 
 you went to Göttingen, not only because I know 
 that you will find it much pleasanter, but because it 
 is much dearer to myself. You will think this very 
 strange, and wonder why I should come to this 
 decision; which, in fact, I can explain in no other 
 way than that when I lived at Brunswick I did not 
 know you, and that at Göttingen you were seldom 
 out of my thoughts. I also love Göttingen because 
 I lived there some time alone, and to live alone is 
 to live in the midst of a thousand pleasant fancies. 
 Salute the ramparts for me, and tell me what you 
 think of the inhabitants. 
 
 Farewell for the present, my dear friend, and be 
 no more a stranger. We are united in a wonderful 
 relation. How many are there who, having met 
 for a few days many years since, would care for 
 each other now ? But there are so few joys of this 
 pure and tender nature, that I should be ashamed to 
 withhold the confession, that your image will ever 
 be inextricably united in my soul with all the feel- 
 ings of my youth, — of that time, when the state of 
 Germany and the world was so much more simple 
 but so much more beautiful than at present, I have 
 a great love for all that is past. That which has 
 
U UMB OLDT'S L E TTERS. 
 
 21 
 
 been is as eternal and unchangeable as death, and, 
 
 t is very long since I heard from you, and I am 
 
 J- grieved to find that you have wholly forgotten 
 me who think of you so often. Write, dear Char- 
 lotte, as soon as you receive these lines, to let me 
 know how you get on. I have long been anxious 
 to write to you for some account of yourself, and 
 the reason of your long silence, of which, perhaps, 
 I am the cause. I write such short letters that you 
 fear, probably, lest you should weary me by writing 
 frequently. Direct your letters to Burgörner, near 
 Eisleben ; I am residing here on one of my wife's 
 estates. Farewell, and send me an answer imme- 
 
 LETTER III. 
 
 Burgomer, April, 1822. 
 
 diately. 
 
 H. 
 
22 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 LETTER IV. 
 
 Burgörner, April, 1822. 
 
 These lines follow so closely on the brief epistle 
 which I sent you a few days since, for two 
 reasons, one of which is, my eager desire to hear 
 from you after your long silence ; and the other, a 
 doubt whether my first letter would ever reach you, 
 as I am not quite sure that I know your right 
 address. Confidently hoping that you have not for- 
 gotten me, believe me, I never forget you. 
 
 Yours, H. 
 
 LETTER V. 
 
 Burgörner, 3d May, 1822. 
 
 Dearest Charlotte, 
 
 I received your very agreeable letters of the 24th 
 and 26th of April, and hasten to give you my 
 most sincere thanks. They pleased me very much, 
 and quite answered my expectations. I could never 
 mistake your worth, nor lose my confidence in the 
 stability of your sentiments. To doubt in respect 
 of one whose noble and tender disposition retains 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 23 
 
 for us a feeling of affection after many years of total 
 separation, would be base ingratitude. It is cer- 
 tainly a piece of singular good fortune for a man, 
 that a woman's heart should continue to regard him 
 with the holy and trustful sentiments of her youth ; 
 it is a piece of singular good fortune which I prize 
 and treasure as it deserves. But I will confess, 
 with as little pride as childish shyness, that I think 
 I may be able to render your life both better and 
 happier. If it is the lot of two people to possess a 
 common mine of wealth, they must not leave it 
 unworked, but should unite unreservedly in the 
 pursuit of its treasures, for by such harmony alone 
 can we obtain food for the sensibilities, and rest for 
 the soul. As personal intercourse is denied us, let 
 us establish and commence a regular correspondence. 
 You will often have reason, I write it with shame, 
 to exercise your kindness and patience in respect to 
 my negligence ; but recollect that although I am a 
 bad correspondent, I always read letters with plea- 
 sure, and especially yours, not only on account of 
 your delightful manner of writing, but of the great 
 sympathy also with which I consider your temporal 
 affairs and the life of your soul. Always write to 
 me on the fifteenth, and I shall then receive your 
 letters on a leisure day. If, however, you write to 
 
24 
 
 HU MB OL DT 'S LETTERS. 
 
 me in the intervals, I shall receive your letter with 
 many thanks as a most estimable gift. 
 
 I was excessively pleased with the account you 
 sent me of your garden, and the reasons which 
 directed you in its choice. They are very character- 
 istic of you, uniting simplicity and elegance. The 
 first is in every way suited to your sentiments and 
 position, whilst the last will beautify and adorn your 
 life. I am pleased to hear that you seldom enter 
 the town. Some visits of course you cannot avoid, 
 and it is well to retain some acquaintance, especially 
 as yours are, you tell me, old and well proved friends. 
 
 I can quite understand your wish to live in * * *, 
 which, if associated in your mind with some un- 
 pleasant circumstances, was yet the scene of your 
 happy and serene youthful years. The neighbor- 
 hood is very beautiful, and, as you rightly remark, 
 a great town offers, beyond all others, a freedom to 
 live as you please, and grants you many indulgences 
 at a slight expense, which a small town denies. I 
 entirely approve of your resolution to continue your 
 residence there. In the choice of your country 
 abode, consider, above all things, your health ; of 
 this you tell me too little, although you know that 
 I am continually anxious about that, your ease and 
 welfare. 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 25 
 
 To conclude, I may tell you that I have been ill 
 the last two weeks of an ague, which, as I have 
 been free from any sickness for years, I feel pecu- 
 liarly burdensome. With the most unchangeable, 
 the most hearty affection, I remain yours, 
 
 perfect restoration. 
 
 At the commencement of our correspondence, you 
 thought that I wrote to you too seldom ; and now I 
 must make the same complaint against you. You 
 promised in your last letter that you would always 
 write to me on the 15th of every month ; this you 
 have not done ; and I have in vain expected a line 
 by the last two posts. This silence makes me very 
 uneasy, lest you should be ill, and sets me thinking 
 on that and every other possible cause of your 
 delay. Whatever it may be, I am very anxious to 
 hear from you again, and have already read your 
 
 H. 
 
 LETTER VI. 
 
 l 
 
26 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 former letters several times, each time being more 
 delighted at the wonderful unity which I discover 
 in our sentiments. The world might call that 
 vanity ; might ascribe it only to the wish to see 
 oneself flattered and honored, if a sense of pleasure 
 arising from these sentiments possessed the mind. 
 But it would be a peculiarly unjust accusation 
 against me, for vanity was never one of my foibles. 
 Few people judge themselves so harshly ; few are 
 so stern in withdrawing themselves entirely from 
 the praises of others, and so blame in themselves 
 whatever is not praised. To a certain mistrust in 
 my own power, I owe the most advantageous cir- 
 cumstances of my public and private life. But I 
 willingly own that I very greatly esteem that nice 
 delicacy of sentiment which touches so powerfully a 
 woman's heart. 
 
 I could not be so foolish, however, as to imagine 
 that you could still stand in a nearer relation to me. 
 But if one be convinced by the true, natural and 
 impressive language of your letters that your re- 
 spect for me is deep and enduring, a twofold feeling 
 is excited thereby, agreeably exalting the sentiment, 
 — that of self-consciousness, and that of the pro- 
 foundly noble mind which knew how to distinguish 
 and to preserve these sentiments. Therefore, I 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 27 
 
 greatly rejoice in this our correspondence, which to 
 you may be of some use, and to me must be of 
 inestimable value. Through all the varied changes 
 of life, your image has shone upon me as a be- 
 nignant light. I little thought I should ever hear 
 from you again. We renewed our acquaintance in 
 the most busy period of my life ; but I am at length 
 at leisure, and can indulge my desire of writing to 
 you. During our long separation, it is most pro- 
 bable that many of our ideas will have altered or 
 varied ; but which, in our quiet interchange of 
 thought, we can pleasantly explain. 
 
 You remind me, dear Charlotte, how close a 
 treasure-house is a woman's heart, and ask my con- 
 fidence. Believe me, I have an unbounded confi- 
 dence in your tr,ue, faithful and tender disposition, 
 or I should not write to you as openly and freely as 
 I do. Do you also rely upon me. Be quite certain 
 that whatever you say to me will be secret as the 
 grave. Be thoroughly also convinced that I am 
 sincerely anxious for your good ; that I have always 
 been so, and shall continue to be so. Trust me in 
 this, even if you do not at once understand me. 
 Leave the arrangement of our correspondence to 
 me, and fear no disturbing influence. I would not 
 force my opinions upon any one, least of all upon 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 you. I am thoroughly convinced that you are not 
 likely to mistake either me or my ideas. I know, 
 indeed, and you have flatteringly assured me of it, 
 that you would willingly and gladly, as you kindly 
 express it, be instructed by me. I am glad that 
 you have told no one of our correspondence. Let 
 none know it ; let not that which is so holy in itself 
 be made common. 
 
 Farewell ! Rely on my unchangeable affection. 
 
 Yours, H. 
 
 LETTER VII. 
 
 Burgb'rner, 1822. 
 
 Dearest Charlotte, 
 
 I am about to make a request to you, by granting 
 which you will very greatly oblige me. I have 
 an intense desire to hear the history of your life, 
 the history of the development of your inner being. 
 I have been led to wish this by the perusal of your 
 former letters. It cannot be a very difficult task, 
 for you have a great facility of composition ; and 
 your writings are exceedingly good, being natural, 
 easy and artistical ; you have, moreover, a great 
 command of language. I do not flatter; I simply 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 29 
 
 express my convictions, deduced from your own 
 letters. 
 
 If you should comply with my request, let it be 
 in the following manner. Set down the events of 
 your life very fully in chronological order. Write 
 from memory, not from imagination. Go back to 
 the days of your childhood and your youth, to your 
 parents and their parents ; and your ancestors before 
 them, if you possess any knowledge respecting 
 them. I wish you to speak in the third person, and 
 to give other names to the places and persons whom 
 you may have to mention. Let one name, however, 
 remain ; never blot out the dear name of Charlotte, 
 for which, in common with Goethe, I have a great 
 affection. Consider when you speak of yourself 
 that you are speaking of another, and apply blame 
 and praise to your conduct as though such were 
 really the case. 
 
 I fear, lest, in complying with my wish, you 
 should linger too fondly over your sorrows, from 
 which I know you have already suffered so much. 
 From this part of your subject, however, you are as 
 yet far away ; it will be your first task to give, and 
 my happy task to receive, some account of the 
 happy days of your childhood. Be satisfied, I re- 
 peat, that what you write will be seen by no other 
 
30 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 eyes than mine. I shall await your answer with 
 much anxiety ; and now, farewell ! 
 
 Yours, H. 
 
 LETTER VIII. 
 
 Burgörner, 1822. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, 
 
 My last two letters which you have doubtless re- 
 ceived, although they are yet unanswered, 
 were simply intended to satisfy your scruples. I 
 hope they effected their purpose, and I now repeat 
 what I have said on a former occasion, that you will 
 of course be guided entirely by your own feelings, 
 as to the manner and extent to which you may 
 unveil before me your past life. In all your re- 
 miniscences I shall deeply sympathize, but must 
 deprecate your tearing open any wounds which time 
 has healed. 
 
 I thank you very heartily for the little sketches 
 which you have sent me. The commencement of 
 your narrative is exactly suited to my taste, but I 
 wish that you had written some parts more circum- 
 stantially. Never think for an instant that you will 
 weary me, and have no anxiety to get on too fast. 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 31 
 
 We have time before us. You especially interested 
 me by the description of your father's house, and 
 convince me more and more that I was right in 
 characterizing your compositions as true, beautiful, 
 and life-like. Pray continue them, and when you 
 find them difficult or laborious, recollect the pleasure 
 which they give to me. To think on the occur- 
 rences of our former days is to add to our future, 
 and there is nothing in the world more interesting 
 to man than man. One can never see or hear 
 enough of one's own species : every new aspect in 
 which we behold it is fruitful of new ideas. Details 
 of its various phases always fill the mind with 
 images which have all the semblance of reality. 
 And this inclination to be amused with observing 
 one's own species is very compatible with the 
 apparently contradictory inclination to solitude. As 
 soon as a man is surrounded by men, as soon as he 
 enters the routine of society, a multitude of circum- 
 stances withdraw his attention from contemplation. 
 But when a man, who passes his whole life in con- 
 templation, enters society occasionally, the scenes 
 and figures of real life which pass around him, so 
 far from distracting, but serve to nourish and people 
 his thoughts. Not so, however, if he regards them 
 simply in their apparent nature. When he returns 
 
32 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 to his solitude a thousand visions arise in his mind, 
 if he is inclined to active thought, idealizing all that 
 he has seen in the material world. All moral 
 questions, all inquiries into the end and aim of life, 
 respecting happiness and perfection, the present and 
 the future, allow of a more manifold application, 
 when one can illustrate the various views by ex- 
 amples drawn from life. In every man, however 
 insignificant he may be in appearance, there is 
 hidden a noble and thoughtful nature, which is the 
 more noble as he is the more virtuous. It is in this 
 manner only that we should study mankind, rising 
 by this means from the low objects of the world to 
 a high and glorious view of humanity. In this con- 
 sists the peculiarity of the great poets : ideal per- 
 fection often springs forth in their works from the 
 accidental phases of nature and society. It is so 
 also in history. Humanity stands forth more nobly 
 and more gracefully in former ages than amidst the 
 petty events of the present. To possess a vivid 
 idea of an interesting character is a gain worthy of 
 a life, and brings with it a perfect acquaintance with 
 the times and circumstances of the individual. I 
 have ever had a particular liking for country clergy- 
 men, and a romantic attachment to their daughters. 
 I felt this long before I saw you, but ever since I 
 
HUMBOLDT S LETTERS. 
 
 33 
 
 made your acquaintance, you have been the medium 
 of my affection ; I have loved them in admiring 
 you. I consider that the best points in the German 
 character are owing to the pastors' daughters ; to 
 their earnest and amiable dispositions, to their sim- 
 plicity and talents, to their freedom from all the 
 vices and possession of all the virtues of a refined 
 aristocracy. I have often expressed this sentiment, 
 and frequently laughed at myself when I recollected 
 that it was on your account that I thus lauded the 
 daughters of country clergymen, of whom you are 
 the only one I have ever known. But, as I have 
 said, I had a presentiment of this which was clothed 
 with reality as soon as I met you, who are to me as 
 a half-seen picture, drawn away before my eyes had 
 comprehended the whole ; a waking vision. There- 
 fore it is that I am so much interested in your early 
 life, in your parents, and the home of your child- 
 hood. I wish to know whether there existed any 
 foundation for my early visions; I wish to realize 
 the world of my youthful fancy. Hence I am very 
 grieved that I did not visit your father the same 
 autumn in which I met you; I was detained in 
 Düsseldorf by my friend Jacobi till it was time to 
 return to Göttingen. Youth is sometimes seized 
 with an absurd fit of regularity. For the sake of a 
 
34 
 
 H UMB OLD T'S BE TTEBS. 
 
 few hours at College, which I should never have 
 missed, I lost the opportunity, never to be regained, 
 of possessing a vivid and lasting picture of your life 
 under the paternal roof, of the whole color of your 
 existence. 
 
 You laugh at my not thinking you sufficiently 
 minute, and think that you have included in your 
 sketches every possible circumstance. But I must 
 continue to make the same complaint. I wish your 
 descriptions to be more precise, more individual- 
 izing. I should like you to answer the following 
 questions in your next letter with great particu- 
 larity : What was your mother's appearance ? This 
 may be easily imagined, but you have not described 
 it, as you should do of all other persons also whom 
 you may have to mention. Let me have a full 
 account of her form, features, and manners. You 
 have given some description of your father's house, 
 but it is far from being sufficiently particular. 
 Whether your house was surrounded by gardens, 
 whether it joined the neighboring houses, whether 
 the scenery of the neighborhood was pretty, whether 
 your windows looked on to the fields, and whether 
 there was a wide view from them, you have not 
 said, and yet it is necessary that I should know all 
 these circumstances before I can realize a lively 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 35 
 
 picture from your description. Pray attend to this 
 suggestion, or all that you describe will be but as an 
 unsubstantial dream, and almost valueless. 
 
 You will be quite weary of my requests, but it 
 was you yourself avuo offered to fulfil them. 
 
 I am here alone, and but for a short time ; I wish 
 you, however, to direct your letters as before, for, if 
 I should have left, they will be forwarded to me at 
 Berlin, to which I am about to return. Recollect 
 the direction — Burgörner, near Hettstädt. Fare- 
 well, dear Charlotte ! With unchangeable regard, 
 I remain, Yours, H. 
 
 LETTER IX. 
 
 Tegel, ioth July, 1822. 
 
 I have requested you before, I believe, to direct 
 your letters to Berlin, which is a safer way than 
 sending them to Tegel direct. At this place I 
 passed my childhood, and the greater part of my 
 youth, and love it dearly. It is by far the prettiest 
 place about Berlin. On one side banded by massy 
 woods, and on the other by picturesque hills; the 
 
 view stretches far away in front over to a lake 
 
 3 
 
3tö 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 studded with islands. The house in which I am 
 now residing is surrounded by lofty trees, which, 
 when I was young, were young, but now are old. I 
 am building a new house here, which is already 
 half finished, and which, adorned with such pictures 
 and marbles as I have, will be quite a pretty resi- 
 dence, leaving me little desire to visit the crowded 
 busy town. 
 
 Many thanks for your letters of the 25th of June, 
 and of the 3d inst. I did not answer the first, in 
 which you besought me so earnestly to write to you 
 directly, because I knew that you would by that 
 time have received my letter which I had previously 
 despatched. 
 
 You need have no fear that I shall blame or op- 
 pose your inclination to solitude. It was very 
 kindly meant of your venerable friend, C, to coun- 
 sel you to enter into society, but I am so far from 
 being of his opinion that I am rather inclined to 
 urge a more rigorous solitude. I was formerly ac- 
 customed, as so many always are, to consider what 
 I liked, rather than what was suited to my disposi- 
 tion. But I think it much better for a man to love 
 solitude, and if he do not love it, to learn to love it. 
 That is my opinion. 
 
 I wish to thank you by-the-by for the account 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 37 
 
 which you gave me of the little brook which ran 
 through the garden round your house, with a little 
 narrow bridge across it. Such little features as 
 these present a whole scene to the mind's eye. But 
 recollect that I am anxious to know what lay beyond 
 the brook. 
 
 I thank you very sincerely, also, for the sketch 
 which you sent me in answer to my question, by 
 which I was much interested. How delightful it is 
 to learn the views of a mind, which, however much 
 it may sympathize with, must still be so unlike my 
 own, on the men and things which have surrounded 
 its path in life. In such views there may appear 
 much that is defective, much that is unjust; but 
 they are true and natural, and therefore interesting, 
 for we ever look from the sketch to the individual. 
 They are also in a high degree instructive, because 
 one can by no means so represent objects to him- 
 self, and the worth, the impression, and the efficacy 
 of things, are only measured according to a general 
 rule, so that everything is viewed in connection 
 with modes of thinking, character, education, and 
 outward circumstances. One must always honor 
 the views of individuals, however adverse we may 
 be to their particular sentiments. The character 
 which you give of me is very, very kind and flatter- 
 
38 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 ing ; but I may add that I am certainly incapable of 
 forgetting or giving up any whom I may have 
 known, and rather follow the least trace which 
 leads to the history of their past lives, with the 
 greatest assiduity. I retain with an eager grasp 
 my friendships and even usual acquaintanceships ; 
 life, indeed, is at the best such a piece of patchwork, 
 that a man does well to take especial care of all the 
 pieces. It generally happens that those whom we 
 recollect, retain a great similarity to our recollections ; 
 but even when this is not the case, I love to watch 
 the changes and chances of the characters which 
 cross the drama of my life, although I may feel no 
 real or lasting interest in their fate. You have not 
 thought of me in this way, retaining, as you do 
 after many years, so faithful and strong a remem- 
 brance of me, without having received a single indi- 
 cation of my recollecting you in return. I need 
 not say how large a space you occupy in my 
 thoughts. I gladly fulfil all the requests which you 
 have made. 
 
 You have repeated your wish that I would con- 
 sent to your preserving my letters. Now you must 
 know, my dear Charlotte, that I am a great enemy 
 of old letters, and never preserve any that I can 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 39 
 
 safely destroy, even though they contain nothing 
 that can prove in the slightest degree disadvanta- 
 geous to any one. A letter is but the voice of a 
 man speaking to one afar off, and he has no wish 
 that it should have a longer existence than words 
 which are spoken and vanish. The impression 
 which he wishes to give will remain, though the 
 letter be destroyed, to be strengthened or altered by 
 those which succeed. 
 
 As you, however, seem to value my letters so 
 much, and ask permission to preserve them so ear- 
 nestly, I cannot refuse. It is very kind and good 
 of you to say that they are exactly suited to your 
 wants. Of this I am quite sure, that I never write 
 a line which I could not defend, and this makes me 
 the less anxious about the fate of my compositions. 
 My simple reason for requesting you to burn them 
 was, as I have said, my dislike to the preservation 
 of old letters. I dislike even to read them. As you 
 think differently, pray have your wish, which I am 
 delighted to gratify, as you so seldom express one. 
 Farewell, dearest Charlotte ! let me have a place 
 in your thoughts, and be sure that mine often 
 follow you into your solitude. 
 
 Yours, H. 
 
4(1 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 You express wonder that amidst the distracting 
 cares and occupations of my life I should have re- 
 tained a love for inquiring into the minds of others, 
 and the sensibilities of the soul. The truth is that 
 this has ever been the work of my inner being, as 
 to which all other occupations appear but as acci- 
 dents, leaving me in undisturbed possession of my- 
 self. By such studies as this alone can a man hope 
 to grow better. The growth of the mind of man, 
 the ideas which fill and throng around it, have ever 
 had for me an inexpressible charm. I made my 
 first experiments on myself, and have attained, I 
 believe, by a careful examination of my own expe- 
 riences, to some knowledge of the character and ten- 
 dencies of my spirit. Thus my endeavors have 
 ever been directed towards two objects, the one to 
 attain a perfect knowledge of every phase of life, 
 and the other, to be dependent on no one, not even 
 on fortune herself, but to stand firmly on my own 
 vantage-ground, and to rely on my own resources. 
 I have attained both these to a considerable degree. 
 I am acquainted with all the joys of life. The sim- 
 plest event of a cheerful nature, or bearing the 
 promise of joy, has filled me with real and substan- 
 tial delight. No man can be so thankful as I am, 
 because none can have such reason to be thankful. 
 
HUM HOLD T 'S LE TTERS. 
 
 Some never find happiness, and others when they 
 find it know not half its resources, half its secrets. 
 Another reason why I am happy beyond other men. 
 is, that few men have so few wants as I ; the satis- 
 fying of a want is but the stilling of a pain, and is 
 opposed to all pure reposeful enjoyment. 
 
 To yield to another's wish, simply because it is 
 another's wish, however opposed it may be to his 
 own, is the duty of every man, and I should despise 
 myself if I could not do so. Such a submission and 
 self-conquest makes the disposition milder and gentler, 
 but at the same time, strange as it may appear, 
 firmer and freer. 
 
 LETTER X. 
 
 Burgörner, July, 1822. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, 
 
 I thank you for your last two letters as heartily 
 as they delighted me. The kindness and love 
 which you show me do my heart good, and as I 
 know that when you speak of me, you speak as you 
 respect me and not as I am, I consider it a very 
 pleasing additional proof and consequence of the 
 amiability of your disposition. Your reminiscences 
 
42 
 
 Hi MB OL DT 'S LETTERS. 
 
 of Pyrmont have delighted me very much ; the more 
 especially as my own mind is full, very full, of re- 
 collections of the happy time I spent there. My 
 memory still retains many of our conversations. 
 There was in those times, I recollect, a great differ- 
 ence of ideas respecting poetry and human character, 
 which always are, or should be, closely united. The 
 one party preferred Klopstock, Stolberg, and all 
 those poets and dramatists who adhere to the old 
 rules ; whilst the other identified itself with Goethe, 
 Schiller, (whose only works were then The Robbers, 
 Fiesco,) and all that class of writers, who, discard- 
 ing the beaten track, struck out new orbits for them- 
 selves. I was undecided as to which to choose, and 
 you, if I judge rightly, were inclined to favor the 
 former class, at least you did not like Schiller's 
 poems. I keep this in mind, and have much plea- 
 sure in observing, without any reference to our in- 
 dividuality, the marvellous change which has taken 
 place in our minds since then, in the period of a 
 very few years. I wish, my dear Charlotte, to linger 
 as long as possible over the days of your childhood, 
 and, I will repeat, shall consider the careful prose- 
 cution of your undertaking as a peculiar favor. Let 
 me know exactly what books you had read when a 
 girl, that you had attained so great a power of think- 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 43 
 
 ing deeply and acutely. You have observed that 
 any one could handle the subject of his own char- 
 acter, — with this I cannot agree. With respect to 
 your proposition, " To treat every one according to 
 his character," your sentiments are different from 
 mine, although I commonly do it for several reasons, 
 one of which is, that it leads direct to one's object; 
 another, that I am not called upon to reform men's 
 characters ; and a third, that to do so leaves them 
 happier than another mode of treatment would, and 
 it is a pleasant thing to see happy people around us. 
 But I must confess I am very unwilling, and hinder 
 it, as far as possible, that men should treat me 
 according to mine. For what is this but to confirm 
 a man's character, and to treat it as though it were 
 unalterable ? No man's character is without sin, 
 and to treat it as though it were unchangeable, is to 
 consider it irreclaimable. I have frequently been 
 deeply pained by the attempts which some have 
 made to humor my character; but I bear in mind 
 that such a pain as this is always healthful, and that 
 perfect freedom from pain is not the highest good. 
 I am very little solicitous to treat according to their 
 characters those of my confidential friends whom I 
 know to be men fearless of salutary pain, eager to 
 know and to vanquish themselves ; and by this 
 
44 
 
 IIUMHQLÜT'S LETTERS. 
 
 means I probably appear to less advantage in the 
 circle of my intimate aequaintances than amongst 
 strangers. It was with considerable pain that I dis- 
 covered from a single expression that you were 
 unwell, and think that you may be so still. Take 
 care of yourself, dear Charlotte ; take great care of 
 yourself, if not for your own sake, for mine. I am 
 ever solicitous respecting your ease, happiness, and 
 health. Women are both more and less fortunate 
 than men, in respect to their occupations being of a 
 nature which leaves them for the most part at full 
 liberty to think of totally different matters. This I 
 am inclined to call a piece of great good fortune. 
 For they can thus live in their inner being, and 
 enjoy communion with their souls, without being 
 disturbed in, or distracted from, their ordinary labors. 
 This is the chief reason why most women are supe- 
 rior to men in the more subtle and extensive know- 
 ledge of themselves and others. But if the subject 
 of their thoughts be sad, or even not perfectly free 
 from any worldly taint, they are in danger of en- 
 during a far greater amount of misery than men 
 who, even involuntarily, are drawn away from 
 revery and contemplation by their active occupa- 
 tions. Do not suppose that I shall object to your 
 decided inclination to solitude. Just the contrary: 
 
HUM BOLD T ' 8 L E TTEBS. 
 
 45 
 
 I was very much pleased by the description in your 
 last letter of your little country-house and garden ; 
 it is very agreeable to have some idea of the scenes 
 and circumstances around those whom we love. 
 Solitude is of great value to a woman, elevating her 
 soul, so tender and earnest in itself, purifying and 
 withdrawing it from all those little, mean and dis- 
 tracting pursuits into which women fall so much 
 more easily than men. There are women also who 
 love solitude, and live in it; who realize the idea 
 that they seek no joy but that which flows from the 
 depth of their own inner being; and that is the 
 main requirement to render them objects of unchange- 
 able interest to men, who are themselves capable of 
 deep and profound feeling. 
 
 Very few people understand what infinite advan- 
 tages exist in solitude, especially for a woman. If 
 she be married and have children, her family circle 
 is her solitude ; if the contrary be the case, her soli- 
 tude is absolute ; one in which she will actually live 
 alone. 
 
 Prosperity passes away, leaving scarcely a trace 
 of its existence ; and so to speak, should not be 
 called happiness, for it gives no lasting good. When 
 unhappiness passes away, which is a great comfort 
 
46 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 of itself, it leaves deep traces behind, most health- 
 ful, strengthening, and purifying to those who know 
 how to use them. It is a peculiarity of human life 
 that when a man takes no thought of good or bad 
 fortune, but only of duty, happiness is sure to pre- 
 vail, however wretched his lot may originally have 
 been. I have frequently observed that women, 
 married unhappily, have obtained by this means a 
 large amount of happiness. Farewell ! 
 
 Yours, H. 
 
 LETTER XI. 
 
 Berlin, 2d December, 1822. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, 
 
 I have received your letters, and return my hearty 
 thanks. To hear from you is one of the greatest 
 pleasures of my life, and the more conscious I be- 
 come of your amiable and faithful affection, the 
 deeper is the impression which I receive from your 
 writings. The remembrance of the past fits me for 
 the enjoyment of the present, and I consider it one 
 of the most fortunate occurrences of my life, that 
 you should have given me a place in your thoughts, 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 47 
 
 that you should continue to esteem my sympathy, 
 and enter into my ideas, and I regard it as happy 
 for yourself and a credit to me, that I retain those 
 sentiments from which I can never part till death. 
 Your flattery would make me proud if I had any 
 pretension to the merits for which you give me 
 credit. I am as conscious as any man of my faults 
 and weaknesses, and know also that it cannot be 
 deemed a merit that fortune allowed me to discover 
 excellence and worth in another, and that, when I 
 had discovered it, I preserved it in the depths of 
 my soul, and am unable to part from it. Such a 
 happiness as this fortune granted me when she gave 
 me your acquaintance, your friendship, your esteem, 
 and your confidence. I reckon it among Nature's 
 best gifts that I never fear misfortune, even when it 
 actually stands on my threshold ; and, as it some- 
 times has done, attacks me very violently. I look 
 upon it as an uncheerful, but \>j no means as an evil 
 companion. Still, thinking thus lightly as I do of 
 misfortune, I prize inexpressibly all good fortune. 
 Pure good fortune I consider that which proceeds 
 directly from God, without the intervention of 
 human efforts, and of this sort was my meeting with 
 you, whereby my mind became filled with an image 
 which it ever has and ever will retain, without 
 
48 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 losing any of its peace. However much I might 
 disapprove of your actions, to imagine for an instant 
 the possibility of such a thing, your image in my 
 heart would ever remain pure and unprofaned. 
 Your actions might be as those of other people, but 
 would have no effect on the features which form 
 this picture. For every man, however good he may 
 be, bears within himself a certain ideal, which is 
 more peculiarly himself, although he may sometimes 
 be untrue to its principles ; and to this inner and 
 unchangeable essence must a man ever adhere, and 
 pardon many offences, if they have not touched or 
 proceeded from this deeper being. Thus I never 
 dreamed of the treasure of love and faithfulness 
 which you preserved for me so many years. How 
 can I help being happy ? Those sentiments which 
 you foster for me, and those feelings which speak in 
 all your letters, are the source from which flows our 
 interchange of thoughts, the light and colors which 
 adorn the union of our souls. From this proceeds 
 the great charm which I feel in perusing your 
 biography. The more I learn of the influences 
 under which you grew up, the better idea I have 
 of the features of your soul, the realization of which 
 engages my willing and earnest attention. The 
 pleasures of imagination I consider the greatest of 
 
HUMBOLDT 'S LETTERS 
 
 49 
 
 which man is susceptible, preferring them in many- 
 respects to those of reality. In the latter there is 
 always something disturbing, something distracting, 
 but the former are ever pure, the results of the 
 greatest and noblest thoughts of a man's mind ; of 
 the most earnest aspirations of his spirit. To live 
 in the midst of such enjoyments as these is real 
 happiness, undisturbed by any outward troubles, 
 because independent of all outward circumstances. 
 But yet few men have a taste for these things, 
 which are a dead letter to all who renounce sensi- 
 bility and moral sentiment for the pleasures of 
 reality. From such desires I have ever been free, 
 and have had, therefore, the more leisure and in- 
 clination for the enjoyment of contemplation and 
 revery, without ever giving myself up to illusions 
 or false enthusiasm. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, — You have for some time re- 
 quested me to give you an account of my relations, 
 and have now repeated your wish so gently, that I 
 reproach myself for not having attended to it before. 
 The near relations, you say, of men whom they 
 admire are inexpressibly dear to women, who love 
 his children as part of his being, and his wife as his 
 companion through life, in proportion as they make 
 
50 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 him happy. Knowing, as I do, the worth of the 
 fountains whence these expressions flow, I thank 
 you for them right heartily. I have delayed this 
 subject from letter to letter, because I have usually 
 come to my last page and last quarter of an hour 
 without having reached it in due course. I will 
 begin with my wife, as I do not remember whether 
 or not you know much about her, and pray you to 
 pardon me if I repeat what you have already heard. 
 
 In her youth she was very beautiful, and although 
 she has had eight children, appears still young. 
 Her health has for some time past been very bad, 
 but illness has neither made her irritable, nor de- 
 stroyed her natural cheerfulness. Burgörner is her 
 estate, and Tegel and the Silesian mine. Our mar- 
 riage was a love affair, and had nothing to do with 
 the negotiations of parents or friends. During the 
 thirty-one years since our marriage day, we have 
 neither of us caused the other an unhappy moment, 
 and our love is the same now as then, except that it 
 has gained a brighter and intenser hue. As we are 
 both naturally cheerful, our union retains to this 
 day a much more youthful character than could be 
 expected. My occupations have separated us very 
 much, but since I have enjoyed leisure from busi- 
 ness, we have been almost constantly in each other's 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 51 
 
 company, and the delight which this has been to me 
 will prevent me from entering again into active life. 
 Directly after my marriage I received an appoint- 
 ment, which I kept for ten years, and resided with 
 my wife during that time in France and Spain. I 
 will shortly notice the present state of my family, 
 and mode of life. Of the latter it may be sufficient 
 to say, that I seldom set foot in the town, but pass 
 my whole time with my wife, either sitting within 
 doors, or taking walks in the country. Of my 
 family, as I before told you, I have lost three chil- 
 dren, one in Paris and two in Rome ; and we now 
 have three daughters and two sons. Our eldest 
 daughter dislikes to marry, and is glad to live with 
 us, who are as glad of her company. Our other 
 daughters are married ; the second to a lieutenant- 
 colonel Yon Hedemann, with whom she lives very 
 happily, and the youngest to Privy-councillor Bü- 
 low, who was my legation secretary in London, and 
 now holds an office in the foreign department. She 
 has a daughter almost a year old, and lives a very 
 happy and domestic life. My youngest son is at 
 home under my own superintendence, and my 
 eldest, who has married a very beautiful and amia- 
 ble wife, is a cavalry officer at Breslau, and has as 
 
 y ; et no children. You know enough to form a tol- 
 4 
 
52 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTER 8. 
 
 erably accurate idea of my family and mode of life. 
 I see few people besides my own family, and seldom 
 visit any but very old acquaintances. 
 
 I must now conclude, bidding you, my dear Char- 
 lotte, a hearty farewell, and assuring you that I re- 
 main, with warm and unchangeable affection, 
 
 Yours, H. 
 
 LETTER XII. 
 
 Berlin, Dec. 27, 1822. 
 
 IT is with great pleasure that I sit down at my 
 desk to answer your last letter, which delighted 
 me, as everything does, which comes from you. I 
 can scarcely be grieved that you were concerned at 
 my long silence, as it has been the occasion of my 
 receiving an additional letter ; but must entreat you 
 not to be anxious when you do not hear from me 
 just when you expected. I am so seldom ill, that 
 you should not imagine that to be the cause ; and, 
 as for any change in my affection, it is impossible 
 with my character, and impossible from that deep 
 admiration with which you inspired me. That I am 
 sometimes dilatory in writing, proceeds from some 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTE HS. 
 
 53 
 
 accidental circumstance over which I have no con- 
 trol. Although I have no particular business of any- 
 kind, I am much busier than most men who are 
 occupied ; and I live by no means, as many others, 
 so as to follow only my own pleasures and inclina- 
 tions. My hours from morning till night, — and I 
 never go to bed before one o'clock, — are regularly 
 apportioned. With the exception of dinner time, I 
 spend only two hours, and that in the evening, with 
 my family. I see very little company, and pass 
 most of my time with my books and papers, leading 
 a very studious life, and occupying myself with ex- 
 tensive inquiries in learning and literature, which 
 often interrupt my correspondence with my friends, 
 but with you less than any. I sometimes wonder, 
 indeed, that I write such long letters to you as I 
 do; the truth being, that my thoughts naturally 
 turn towards you, and that I am urged to this ac- 
 tivity the rather, because my letters occasion yours, 
 which I read with so much pleasure, — which I can 
 always find time to read, — at the sight of which all 
 distracting thoughts vanish. One can always think, 
 but it is not always so easy to write. You will 
 recollect, dear Charlotte, that at the commencement 
 of our correspondence, I complained of my want of 
 
54 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 regularity in writing letters, — you now find that I 
 spoke the truth. 
 
 I am very glad that you are pleased with the 
 short account which I gave you of my family, 
 although you add, " I could have wished it had 
 been fuller: still I rejoice at having thus gained 
 some knowledge of your family, and am content." 
 That is altogether in your style, and I praise you for 
 that, as much as I must blame you for fearing lest 
 you should have expressed your sentiments too 
 freely. Remember that you have written your 
 biography for me alone. Most nobly and sincerely 
 have you laid open before me the first feelings of 
 your youthful breast in my behalf; through your 
 whole life you have preserved those feelings, and 
 enshrined my image in your heart, without ever 
 receiving through the whole time one sign of my 
 recollection. All that you possessed to keep me in 
 memory, were a few lines which I had written. 
 This is enough to move any man's gratitude and 
 admiration ; but any man as sensible of its value as 
 I am, would consider it as a piece of singular good 
 fortune, or rather as an especial gift of Providence. 
 There is no room in this for the slightest shade of 
 reproach, or the least breath of calumny. I will not 
 allow you, you see, to reclaim what you have once 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 55 
 
 bestowed. I will not be deprived of my possession 
 by any little scruples on your part. If I err, my 
 heart does not. I am not a slave to any narrow- 
 minded ideas of propriety, current with the world 
 though they be. If one is pure in oneself, an inter- 
 change of feelings with another, breaks no rule of 
 right; for my own part (I cannot answer for the 
 conscience of another) I can declare to you with a 
 good conscience, every feeling of my heart which is 
 pure and undisguised. You see, then, that as I 
 have just said, I will keep what I have. 
 
 If you had not, very naturally I must confess, de- 
 manded it, I should have been silent respecting my 
 family life. 
 
 Therefore, still again, I wish that you would not 
 desire to obliterate a single line, or even a single 
 word. I love to think on all that you have written 
 to me, in which your feelings beam with such a 
 pure and lustrous light. I wish, above all things, 
 that our correspondence may give you pure unsul- 
 lied joy. I carry it on for no other purpose than to 
 strengthen and refresh those recollections, which I 
 love more every day that I live, and to afford you 
 happiness. 
 
 You will not wonder that I give you this informa- 
 tion so late, as I simply give it at your especial re- 
 
56 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 quest. It is very contrary to my disposition, to de- 
 clare to any but the individuals themselves, the sen- 
 timents with which they inspire me. I am well 
 aware that mutually to impart their joys and sor- 
 rows, and to live, as it is said, in one another, is 
 usually reckoned an indispensable attribute of 
 friends. Now, for my own part, I have experi- 
 enced great joys and great sorrows, which I never 
 felt inclined to impart to my most intimate friends. 
 I care very little for the accidents of life ; and, as 
 far as respects myself, (not as regards others, God 
 knows,) I consider joy and sorrow as its least im- 
 portant circumstances. I know, thank God, that 
 there are better subjects for discourse between such 
 friends as you and I, than the acts of the world that 
 jostles about us. I act thus with my wife and chil- 
 dren. They know, for the most part, nothing of my 
 occupations ; and my wife is so much of my mind in 
 this matter, that if I tell her, for some reason or 
 other, or she learns by accident, anything which I 
 have done or may be doing, of which she was totally 
 ignorant, she does not think it in the slightest de- 
 gree strange. Friendship and love demand the most 
 entire confidence, and with inquisitive souls there 
 is no confidence. Farewell! With unchangeable 
 affection I remain yours, H. 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 57 
 
 LETTER XIII. 
 
 Berlin, Feb. 14, 1823. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, 
 
 tou are quite dumb, and have been utterly re- 
 
 JL gardless of the request which I made to you a 
 week ago, to break your silence. I have looked 
 anxiously for a letter every post day. I should fear 
 that you were ill did I not feel sure that you would 
 at least have written a line to let me know, unless 
 you were very ill indeed. This cold weather is very 
 likely to have a bad effect on your health. I be- 
 seech you, therefore, to remove my anxiety by 
 writing as soon as possible. I shall become very 
 uneasy if I still have no letter. As for myself, I 
 am very well, but very busy, for my brother has 
 been staying with me a month ; and now that he 
 has returned to Paris, I have to work hard to re- 
 cover the arrears of my various occupations, which 
 I scarcely hope to do under a fortnight. Let this 
 be the excuse for the shortness of my letter. As 
 you like long letters, my last must have pleased you 
 very much ; it was very clearly written, and filled a 
 whole sheet. Farewell ! Write immediately. 
 Yours, with unchanging affection, H. 
 
58 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 LETTER XIV. 
 
 Berlin, March 14, 1823. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, 
 
 I have received your letters and their contents, for 
 which I return you my hearty thanks. Nothing 
 could be better arranged than this second part of 
 your biography. The very pleasant character of the 
 writing, and extraordinarily careful arrangement 
 into chapters, make it as easy to read as a book. 
 It will be better, I now think, that you should fol- 
 low the arrangement of subjects, rather than that of 
 chronology, which I at first recommended. I have 
 the less scruple in setting you about this task, as I 
 know that it must be very interesting to yourself, 
 that you are kind enough to find a pleasure in 
 obliging me, and that you would certainly employ 
 your leisure time in the pursuit of some object — if 
 not of this. But I should be exceedingly distressed 
 if you really considered it a task, a tax on your 
 time, and an obligation, when other business might 
 compel you to leave it for a time, to excessive exer- 
 tion. I wish you to do nothing but what is per- 
 fectly consistent with your ease, and accordant with 
 your tastes. These observations have been called 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 59 
 
 forth by the great length of your last papers ; from 
 which, however, long as they are, you will doubt- 
 less have learned that your fear that copiousness 
 would make your undertaking endless, was without 
 foundation. I can, certainly, no longer reproach 
 you with excessive brevity, for it is easy to judge, 
 from the writings themselves, that you wrote until 
 you had exhausted your memory. You have over- 
 looked nothing, — all the persons whom you mention 
 are sketched to the life, and no features are wanting 
 in the pictures which you have drawn. Your two 
 grandmothers are very interesting characters, most 
 excellent women, of whose dispositions your own 
 retains very marked traces. Of course the pictures 
 of the simple life of a moderately prosperous family 
 can offer no very striking points. And this makes 
 it the more difficult to remember and describe its 
 every-day events. For the efforts which, for my 
 sake, you have directed towards this object, I give 
 you my hearty thanks. Leading so simple and 
 quiet a life as I do, I have been greatly charmed to 
 find its exact counterpart in your narrative. I must 
 praise this last part of your biography very much 
 beyond the former, for its unbroken easiness of nar- 
 ration, for its vivid and picturesque descriptions. 
 Although I read with much pleasure the observa- 
 
6t) 
 
 HUMBOLD T 'S LETTERS. 
 
 tions with which you interspersed the early part of 
 your narration, a narrative is chiefly charming as it 
 passes before the reader with the semblance of 
 reality, and is not disturbed or interrupted by the 
 appearance of the author. In the present case — but 
 you must not think that I declare war against all 
 reflections, and forbid yourself every observation, 
 (this is by no means my intention) — I find more to 
 praise in the manner in which you have executed 
 your task, than I should have found to blame had it 
 been performed in another, for you would certainly 
 have understood how to lend a charm to this also. 
 But I must repeat, that a narration is better and 
 more attractive in proportion as the narrator keeps 
 behind the scenes, by which, however, he is not ac- 
 tually concealed, but is discovered in his narrative 
 most distinctly and vividly. I was very pleased 
 with the sketches which you have added ; they are 
 to the very life, and are a great addition to the 
 reality and accuracy of the whole picture. I may 
 mention, particularly, the description of the outward 
 aspect of your father's house, which is peculiarly 
 attractive. You have contented yourself with sim- 
 ply mentioning your mother's death. I pray you 
 not to pass over this subject so lightly ; but if, as is 
 very probable, you have reserved it for another and 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 61 
 
 more fitting place, I should rather that you adhered 
 to your plan. But if you do not intend to mention 
 this subject again in your regular narrative, I wish 
 you to make it the subject of a separate chapter, for 
 it has an especial interest for me. The mischance 
 in the matter of your house, which was so healthful, 
 pleasant, and suited to your inclinations, has grieved 
 me very much. I not only admit but share the dis- 
 like with which you now regard it, and perfectly ap- 
 prove of your determination to remove. 
 
 I am very thankful to find that you confide in my 
 sympathy in the time of sorrow. It was my wish 
 and intention to obtain a healthful influence over 
 you, and I hope that I have obtained it. Let me, 
 by means of this influence, alleviate your griefs. 
 Again, I say, trust in me, who would be a stay and 
 support to none more willingly than to you. Fare- 
 well! Be calm, and believe that I remain yours, 
 with ever-enduring affection, H. 
 
62 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 LETTER XV. 
 
 Berlin, March 30, 1823. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, 
 
 I was very grieved to find the depression of spirits 
 in which your letter of the 19th instant was 
 written ; but was also pleased to observe the more 
 cheerful tone of the conclusion, which convinces me 
 that our quiet intercourse has a beneficial effect on 
 your mind ; and this makes me the more anxious 
 that you should not persevere in your intention of 
 concluding it. This determination, to which I have 
 no intention of yielding, can have only proceeded 
 from great depression of spirits. It is very kind of 
 you to wish, as you say, to preserve me from the 
 burden of your sorrows ; but should I not be as un- 
 easy at your silence, if I knew that it was caused by 
 your reserve, as if I knew them in their full nature 
 and extent? Be assured that I shall ever sympa- 
 thize with your misfortunes, as I do in this case of 
 your being compelled to give up your pleasant and 
 convenient dwelling. But I should like to see you, 
 my dear Charlotte, proof against these annoyances 
 of outward life ; meeting them with that cheerful- 
 ness which so much conduces to the peace of the 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 63 
 
 soul. You will not, I hope, consider this a very bit- 
 ter reproach — for nothing would grieve me more 
 than to give you pain ; but it is ever my habit to 
 speak unreservedly to those whom I love, by which 
 our friendship becomes stronger, firmer, and more 
 independent of outward circumstances. Be not an- 
 gry, therefore, at the open manner in which I ad- 
 dress you, nor look upon it as the idle talk of one 
 who is preserved by circumstances from similar an- 
 noyances. Pain is not dependent on outward cir- 
 cumstances, but has been ordered by God in such a 
 manner, that the most favorable condition of life is 
 no protection from its attacks. 
 
 In the course of my long and eventful life, my 
 most cherished feelings have frequently been, some- 
 times for a long, sometimes for a short time, rudely 
 shocked. I am by no means a stranger to your 
 present feelings, and so entirely dependent are we 
 on chance, I could meet every one of your distresses 
 with a similar one. But, as you rightly observe, 
 outward affairs engage very little of my sympathy. 
 To exchange, for instance, the most agreeable for 
 the most disagreeable abode, would be to me a mat- 
 ter of perfect indifference. I live almost entirely in 
 my study ; and, in spite of the fine weather, have 
 not left it all day for more than a week, except to 
 
64 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 join my family circle in a neighboring room. I 
 have no wants of the kind which distress you, 
 except the chair on which I sit, and the table at 
 which I write. Any room is the same to me ; and 
 in mine you would find no luxuries, no mirrors, no 
 sofa. What I mean to say is, that things of this 
 sort never trouble me ; and I wish, although many 
 very sensible people besides yourself consider them 
 of moment, that you would no longer submit to be 
 grieved by such a thing as a change of residence. 
 For my own part I cannot judge, even from your 
 own showing, that you are so unfortunate in being 
 compelled to leave a house which you liked, as in 
 being unable to find another quiet garden-garlanded 
 dwelling. The dampness of the walls of your pre- 
 sent sleeping-room frightens me very much, and is, 
 of course, intolerable. I know, dear Charlotte, that 
 in spite of all that I have said, your loss will be very 
 great until you are once more comfortably settled ; 
 but under all circumstances, there remains to you 
 resignation to bear what must be borne ; the enjoy- 
 ment of your own sweet and amiable thoughts ; the 
 society of friends whom you love ; the assurance of 
 a good conscience ; and, permit me to add, our per- 
 fect friendship — my hearty sympathy. Every man 
 should possess a certain strength and boldness with 
 
HUMBOLDT 'S LETTERS. 
 
 05 
 
 which to meet the misfortunes, which, as you have 
 learned, may come upon him in the season of his 
 greatest prosperity ; but which, if he meet them cou- 
 rageously, gradually retreat, and leave his soul in 
 peace. 
 
 I often think, dear Charlotte, that I may be very 
 different from the picture which your thoughts may 
 have formed of me. We can never judge rightly of 
 a person's character whom we have never seen, with 
 whom we have never lived. I wrote to you at the 
 commencement of our correspondence, that you must 
 take me as I was, and that such as I was I must be. 
 I am peculiarly myself, dear Charlotte, in always 
 retaining the same sentiments of love and admira- 
 tion for you. But in writing to you, I must always 
 express my real sentiments, and must pray you to 
 excuse me when they are in direct contradiction to 
 your own. How willingly I correspond with you, 
 sufficiently appears, I think, from the long letters 
 which I write to you after the declaration, which 
 you will remember I made on proposing this corre- 
 spondence, of my dislike to writing letters, and of the 
 very short and trivial communications which you 
 might expect to receive from me. To return to your 
 biography, I can only repeat what I have so often 
 said, that your continuance of it will give me true 
 
66 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 pleasure ; but that whenever I entreat you to do 
 this, it is always on the supposition that it is accord- 
 ant with your own inclination, which I know it is, 
 and is no interruption to more important claims on 
 your time and thoughts ; I know how carefully you 
 husband both, and respect you the more for it. Your 
 observations on second sight have made me very 
 curious to know more ; and as I am entirely of your 
 father's opinion, that the mysterious connection of 
 all things is beyond our comprehension, I shall be 
 no scoffer or disbeliever. Farewell, my dearest 
 Charlotte ! For my sake be comforted under all 
 your distresses, and believe that no one thinks of 
 you so often or so tenderly as your affectionate 
 
 H. 
 
 LETTER XVI. 
 
 Berlin, 12th April, 1823. 
 
 Many thanks for your little note, which breathes 
 throughout your amiable disposition. Your 
 words, " do not interpret too strictly the expressions 
 of an afflicted heart, nor the despondency which is 
 the consequence of heavy afflictions," have moved 
 me deeply; you will never find my sentiments 
 
* 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 change. I anxiously await your next letter; from 
 some expressions in your last, I conclude that better 
 prospects are preparing for you. 
 
 H. 
 
 LETTER XVII. 
 
 Berlin, 25th April, 1823. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, 
 
 I had just sat down to answer your letter of the 
 9th, when, to my great joy, I received your letter 
 dated the 20th. I feared that you would have waited 
 for an answer from me before you wrote. I am very 
 glad to find that you have left the house, to whose 
 disagreeable inmates you had taken so great a dislike. 
 You have at least found peace and solitude in your 
 new abode. You are indebted to the friend who 
 advised you to refuse the other house for a year's 
 peace ; for a year is a long time to pass in uneasiness. 
 I had hoped, however, that you would not have taken 
 possession of your new dwelling until the summer, 
 as you would have found it pleasanter to live in the 
 town during the winter. The description which you 
 have given me of your various apartments, con- 
 vinces me that they are very unfit for a winter resi- 
 5 
 
68 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 dence, without great alterations in the walls, doors, 
 windows, and such like, which the lease does not 
 allow you to make, and which would be besides a 
 great expense. I perfectly approve, however, of your 
 aversion to the town. If it were not for my children, 
 I would always live in the country, for even where 
 the scenery is not pretty, one at least has an open 
 view of the sky. And the sight of the broad heavens, 
 whether on a dark or starry night, whether cheerfully 
 blue, or covered with rolling clouds, or veiled in som- 
 bre gray, in the undistinguishable masses of which 
 the eye loses itself, — under whatever aspect they 
 may appear, whatever changes they may present, 
 the sight of the heavens is to me a source of inex- 
 pressible delight. The aspect of the heavens affects 
 the disposition of some men's souls : let not this be 
 so with you ; let the state of your spirit be dependent 
 on something firmer, something nobler than the vari- 
 ations of the weather or the seasons ; although, from 
 the very nature of your mind, you must rejoice when 
 nature rejoices, be not sad at the appearance of her 
 sadness. I never complain of the weather, and grieve 
 when I hear others do so. I view nature as a great 
 power, which blesses men, as they confide in the 
 good purpose of all her developments, and look 
 rather to the fulfilment of 'all than to each particular 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 69 
 
 act. One of the great charms which I find in a 
 country life, is the dance of the seasons, as they 
 pass openly before my eyes. It is the same with 
 the several periods of existence. 
 
 How much men deceive themselves when they 
 think that they would willingly remain in either! 
 The charm of youth consists in a glad and unre- 
 strained effort to reach some yet anattained step in 
 life, and if the young once became conscious that 
 this period was to lead to no higher, they would 
 suffer all the torments of Sisyphus ; the pleasures 
 of youth would be to them as the pains of hell. 
 And old age is in reality but as youth, an entrance 
 into life — an exaltation of the thoughts. Much as 
 we love the scenes and circumstances about us, we 
 feel that at the appointed time we shall leave them 
 without repining. Without considering them in a 
 religious point of view, there is something inde- 
 scribably affecting in the thought of passing into 
 infinite space ; in the contemplation of which one 
 becomes purified from all the petty sorrows of the 
 world. It is an important consideration also that 
 men crowded closely together become selfish. We 
 must retreat from the crowd of humanity to the 
 heights of nature, before we can view it in its true 
 aspects, and feel for it the sympathy which it de- 
 
70 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 mands of our minds. By such means alone can a 
 man learn to place less of his happiness in the hands 
 of ever-changing fortune ; to think less of pain, and 
 more of his soul ; to live less in the world of sense, 
 and more in the universe of thought. The fear of 
 death is diminished ; we learn to look upon it but as 
 a mere transformation, as one of the natural conse- 
 quences of the design of our being. These observa- 
 tions have been excited by the contents of your 
 second letter, for which I give you many thanks. 
 It is difficult to decide what to say, when we have 
 to deal with such facts of personal experience as you 
 relate. 
 
 That a beloved friend in the moment of dissolution 
 may gain power over the elements ! and in defiance 
 of the laws of nature be able to appear to us, would 
 be perfectly incomprehensible, if it were not for 
 the half-defined feeling in our hearts that it may be 
 so. It is quite probable that a very earnest desire 
 might give strength sufficient to break through the 
 laws of nature. But there may be needed a peculiar 
 disposition for the perception of a spirit, and we may 
 often be unconsciously in the presence of myriads 
 of disembodied souls. And this may be the reason 
 why only so few people see, or why we so seldom 
 hear of any having seen, spirits. Many of the ac- 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 n 
 
 counts of the appearance of spirits to earthly eyes 
 are fabulous, or may be traced to natural causes. 
 The faith which men have in this sort of things is 
 increased by their fear of the supernatural. But, on 
 the other hand, many of these narrations may be 
 true, and, indeed, it is very difficult to doubt the 
 reality of even very supernatural events, when ob- 
 served by many people of various dispositions, as 
 was the case in the ghost-seeing at your house, since 
 we might rather expect spectres to appear to solitary 
 individuals. I have already observed that in a cer- 
 tain susceptibility to the perception of the super- 
 sensual, men might have more of this direct commu- 
 nication with the spiritual world if their minds were 
 not bound so closely to earthly things ; if they were 
 more frequently to hold earnest and pious communion 
 with their own souls. Such was your father's feel- 
 ing. Whatever it may be, he treats the matter as 
 it ought to be treated, neither with superstition nor 
 disbelief. Your narration of this event has interested 
 me very much, and I thank you the more heartily 
 for it, as the quickness with which you have fulfilled 
 my request, at a time when so many other things 
 occupied your thoughts, is another proof of the friend- 
 ship with which you regard me. 
 
 As the weather is very rough I am yet in town, 
 
72 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 but intend going, on the first favorable opportunity, 
 to my little estate, Tegel, and from thence probably 
 to Ottmachau, in Silesia, for six or eight weeks. 
 Pray take care that you do not catch cold. Farewell ! 
 
 Yours, H. 
 
 LETTER XVIII. 
 
 Tegel, 15th May, 1823. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, 
 
 I write to you from my little estate, which is 
 already known to you. I have been here for 
 some days with my family, although the weather 
 remains very unfavorable. We have continual storm 
 and rain, or at the best overclouded skies. But un- 
 pleasant as clouds are in winter, I love them very 
 much in summer, when, slightly veiling the clear 
 blue sky, they breed a warmth and stillness, which 
 have an earnest charm for earnest souls. Nature 
 is as yet very backward; the oaks have but just 
 begun to put forth their leaves, and only the very 
 earliest trees, chestnuts, elders, and such like, have 
 their full foliage. On the other hand, the blossoms 
 of the fruit trees are very full and abundant. I have 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 a pleasure in thinking that your garden is by this 
 time in a very nourishing condition, and am only 
 anxious lest you should be too much exposed to this 
 changeable weather, for which your dwelling is very 
 unfitted. My brother's visit to Berlin, and a thousand 
 other little circumstances, have kept me in town all 
 this winter. The country therefore has now a double 
 charm for me. I am very surprised that I should 
 have so much delight in a country abode, as it is 
 quite contrary to the life which my occupations have 
 compelled me to lead. If I had never been accus- 
 tomed to the 'country, or had enjoyed it continually, 
 I could have easily referred my inclination to novelty 
 in the one case, and habit in the other. I have 
 neither passed my days altogether in the country 
 and in solitude, nor been long absent from either, 
 yet they have become as a second nature to me. 
 During the many years which I passed without any 
 regular occupation, I travelled, or lived in small 
 towns. On entering into active life I was drawn 
 from my rural solitude into the whirl of an extensive 
 and mixed society. But even then I contrived to 
 isolate myself from those around me, and was often 
 alone in a crowd, an art which is soon learned by 
 those who have thoughts sufficiently interesting to 
 occupy their minds. I have ever regarded it as a 
 
74 
 
 Hi MBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 blessing from Heaven, for which I could never be 
 sufficiently thankful, and still regard it in that light, 
 that I preserve in my old age this the desire of my 
 youth. Many have considered it very philosophical 
 and meritorious when they have observed me enter- 
 ing on business and giving it up with equal serenity, 
 neither vexed at the prospect of toil in the one case, 
 nor longing after my old occupations in the other. 
 But I make no merit of this, w T hich I think belongs 
 to my character, because I know that it simply pro- 
 ceeds from my natural inclinations. I have always 
 thought it would be painful to be occupied to the 
 end about the outward things which might be pass- 
 ing around me, for all the events of this world are 
 equally nothing to us at the point of death. But 
 with the workings of the soul it is far otherwise. 
 When sentiments and ideas have once become part 
 of a man's heart and mind, they are no longer depend- 
 ent on the things of this earth, but remain with him 
 as long as he exists. 
 
 It seems impossible to me that we should ever 
 cease to think and feel. Although intervals of fail- 
 ing consciousness may occur, when the various 
 states of our being may be no longer connected with 
 each other through the power of memory ; still the 
 once conceived idea will work no less on the being 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 and inner faculties of the soul. It is altogether 
 otherwise when we undertake a labor connected 
 with outward relations ; with the actual business of 
 life ; and not out of immediate love to it, but from 
 other considerations, as a means of support. In 
 this respect I should myself have been able long to 
 continue it, and have in fact done so, as long as 
 strength allowed. Women are especially fortunate 
 in this, that the work which they perform in this 
 wise, although not altogether, is yet, for the most 
 part, mechanical. It employs the head but in a 
 small degree, and the feelings not at all ; and hence 
 the better, the higher, and the tenderer portion of 
 human nature is left much more to itself than is the 
 case w r ith men. Thus men so much more easily 
 become narrow-sighted, harsh, and crabbed, through 
 their labor. This is never the case with women, 
 even though circumstances and misfortunes oblige 
 them to seek a maintenance by their work, and that 
 in instances in which their early life was free from 
 such necessity. 
 
 The least pleasant part of my pursuits has been 
 that they compelled me to change my residence 
 several times in the same year. I have no dislike 
 to a new, but prefer remaining in an old abode, one 
 charm of w T hich is that I can see the various opera- 
 
/ 
 
 76 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 tions of nature gradually proceeding. The changes 
 of the seasons have a charm for me, which I cannot 
 explain. You will probably think that, in the per- 
 fect freedom which I now enjoy, I can arrange my 
 time and pursuits as I please. The freest man has 
 some obligations, it is said; and I find the saying 
 true. My present plans are to remain at this place 
 till the 1st of June, and then to spend two months 
 at Silesia, after which I shall most probably return 
 to Tegel. I am very sorry that I shall not be able 
 to visit, or if at all, for a very short time, Burgörner. 
 Farewell! Pardon me that I have written so much 
 about myself. I speak to you as to myself ; and 
 besides, you know how willing I am that you should 
 make yourself the subject of your communications. 
 With the most hearty affection I remain yours, 
 
 H. 
 
 LETTER XIX. 
 
 Tegel, 26th May, 1823. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, 
 
 Our letters have crossed. I wrote to you without 
 waiting for your letter, which, as it happens, 
 you have sent earlier than usual. From my last 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 letter you will know that the day of my departure 
 from hence is very near. I have learned with great 
 sorrow your indisposition and other distresses, which 
 seem to oppress you more than usual. A change 
 of residence has, indeed, been to you an evil ! I 
 flatter myself, however, that these cares will pass 
 away when you become more accustomed to your 
 new position, and the returning spring gives you 
 pleasant occupation in your garden, with which, I 
 am glad to find, you have become more reconciled 
 than with the other parts of your establishment. 
 My only fear is still for your health ; for the pre- 
 servation of which, in its present weak state, from 
 the attacks of the raw winter weather, good thick 
 walls are indispensable, and of such your house 
 seems very destitute. Before the return of winter, 
 consult some one who understands such matters, 
 and have such alterations made as he proposes. It 
 would be an unpleasant thing for you to have to 
 change your residence a third time ; but even that 
 would be better than to risk your health. Pray 
 follow my counsel in this matter, dear Charlotte, 
 and let me add an earnest request, that you will 
 spare yourself, and not grudge yourself a little rest 
 after so many distractions and fatigues. 
 
 The observations in your letter on the festival of 
 
78 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 Whitsuntide pleased me much, and were manifestly 
 the expressions of your heart. It is to me, as to 
 you, the sweetest and most glorious of the church 
 festivals. Its holy signification, the descent of 
 Divine power on men of like passions with our- 
 selves, is comforting and exalting, and quite within 
 our powers of comprehension, for every man may 
 understand how he unites in his own person the 
 spirit and the flesh. And even considered as a mere 
 earthly ordinance, it is as a musical close to winter 
 and prelude to summer. You say that you find it 
 impossible to become used to pain, to regard good 
 and bad fortune indifferently. This want of courage 
 before the attacks of pain I have long observed in 
 your character, and can well comprehend ; it is the 
 trembling tenderness of a woman's soul, which it 
 would be wrong to oppose too roughly, or to harden. 
 I will not attempt, therefore, to fortify you against 
 the strokes of misfortune, but will rather wish it far 
 from you. You may be sure that my hearty efforts 
 tend to this purpose. The nature of men and 
 women's souls is very different. To a man it is a 
 shame to cower before the strokes of fate, to suffer 
 his mind to brood over it with unavailing sorrow. 
 To a woman this is most natural, and she turns 
 instinctively to some other being for her support. 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 70 
 
 A man, unless there be some defect in his spirit, has 
 power to stand alone, and it is his duty to strive 
 thus continually. 
 
 You have asked, very naturally, I must confess, 
 whether I have ever experienced pain. Rest as- 
 sured that I never speak on any subject with which 
 I am not acquainted from my own observations and 
 experience. 
 
 I have not fixed the day of my departure, but it 
 is so very near that I shall not receive another letter 
 from you at this place, and must request you to 
 direct your next letter to Ottmachau. Wishing* from 
 my heart that you may soon be free from bad health 
 and all other distress, I repeat the assurance of my 
 hearty sympathy and affection. 
 
 Yours, H. 
 
 Happiness and unhappiness lose all their health- 
 ful influences if they do not reach the sensibilities 
 of the soul. As reality is ever poor and shrunken 
 by the side of imagination, in like manner our senti- 
 ments and ideas lose their charm when clothed in 
 language. In the soil whence they grew, they in- 
 crease and flourish, but removed from their native 
 clime, they pine and die. Thus even sorrow pre- 
 served in a man's own breast hath a sweetness, 
 which he would not willingly lose. 
 
so 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 I never receive such comfort from others as from 
 myself. I should consider inability to comfort my- 
 self under a misfortune a far greater evil than the 
 misfortune itself. Women may need consolation 
 from others, but a man should provide his own. 
 
 Compassion is a distressing feeling, and sympathy 
 is very beautiful, but only to a certain degree. 
 
 Your sympathy I esteem of inestimable worth, 
 but I am very far from wishing to feel that I need 
 it. To merit anything which I do not possess in 
 myself is entirely opposed to all my principles. I 
 have ever striven to need nothing which is not 
 within the limit of my own resources. It is not, 
 perhaps, possible to succeed perfectly in this, but if 
 a man could attain this, he would also attain the 
 heights of friendship and love. For want in spiritual 
 things is as much opposed to happiness as any 
 material want. To supply a necessity is to alleviate 
 a pain, and is but a negative good, whilst real 
 happiness, both corporeal and spiritual, is something 
 positive. He who needs friendship least ever finds 
 it in sweet perfection, and it fills his already happy 
 breast with a superabundance of joy. He needs 
 none for himself, and is blessed in bestowing his 
 own undisturbed love upon his friend. The con- 
 dition of a perfect friendship between two beings is, 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 81 
 
 that each should be sufficient of himself for himself. 
 Then, if one is found wanting, the other has strength 
 for both. 
 
 The common idea of the day, that in friendship 
 it is necessary that friend should be a support to 
 friend, is only true for second-rate men and second- 
 rate feelings. In their mutual dependence they are 
 both very likely to sink. This is my meaning when 
 I speak of independence as being the noblest attri- 
 bute of a man. Too many men, most worthy iD 
 all other respects, allow themselves to be deceived 
 in this matter, and misunderstanding the aim and 
 qualities of their minds, seek to conform them to the 
 more susceptible souls of women. They do very 
 wrong. A fair and pure spirit in woman is only 
 attracted by a fair and pure spirit in man. 
 
 LETTER XX. 
 
 Ottmachau, 12th July, 1823. 
 
 The estate on which I am now residing, and which 
 I have already mentioned to you, I have pos- 
 sessed since 1820. The scenery here is very beau- 
 tiful. From the old castle, which is situated on the 
 
*-2 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 top of a hill, may be seen a complete panorama of 
 the Silesian and Bohemian Mountains, and between 
 these hills — at the foot of which flows the Neisse — 
 and the castle, lie the pleasant fields, meadows, and 
 woods, of which my estate forms part. I do not 
 inhabit the castle, which only possesses a few habit- 
 able rooms, at present occupied by my children, but 
 a very pleasant convenient house a little lower 
 down the hill, from whence also a splendid view 
 may be enjoyed. That I am in fortunate circum- 
 stances is very true, and you justly remark that this 
 is rather the result of good fortune than my own 
 exertions. It is perfectly true, and makes my happi- 
 ness happier. Fortune's gifts please me more than 
 the results of my own exertions. It is better to be 
 born fortunate than rich. I have been, as you may 
 imagine from my expressions, more fortunate than 
 most men ; I may even say that I have been for- 
 tunate up to this time in all my undertakings. Many 
 unwise acts both in my public and private life have 
 caused me no trouble, and others which cost me 
 very little care or consideration in their performance 
 have been productive of the happiest consequences. 
 I like to consider myself a fortunate man, but I 
 always, I hope, remember that my good fortune may 
 leave me at any moment, and am therefore more 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 83 
 
 prudent than most men. Should great misfortunes 
 attack me, either in the shape of bodily disease or 
 causes of great mental grief, I should suffer as other 
 men, but in the midst of my sorrows should look 
 back upon my former happiness, and lose not my 
 inner quiet, which would not suffer a very severe 
 shock. I learned very early in life to find content- 
 ment in my- own thoughts and feelings, and now 
 this self-dependence, this reserve, being so natural 
 to my years, is doubled. I am certain, however, 
 that this has not diminished the warmth of my 
 affections, but that I can desire, on the one hand, 
 without pain, and on the other enjoy with thank- 
 fulness. You must not think, therefore, that 1 
 blame an uneasy longing in others. Every one has, 
 and must have, his own peculiar principles ; and, 
 although I am so steadfast in my own, I am so far 
 from disliking those of others, that I receive your 
 expressions of earnest longing for my friendship 
 with hearty gratitude. I hope that you proceed 
 diligently with your biography, in which I take 
 much pleasure. In ten or twelve days I leave this 
 place, and hope to find letters from you in Berlin. 
 With the most hearty friendship, 
 
 Yours, H. 
 
 6 
 
84 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 LETTER XXI. 
 
 I 
 
 Tegel, August II, 1823. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, 
 
 I reached Berlin the day before yesterday, and, 
 on arriving here, was very much pleased to find 
 a packet of letters from you. I perceive at the first 
 glance that you are in good health, comfortably 
 established in your new abode, and busily employed 
 in the improvement of your garden. Next to the 
 pleasure with which I received this intelligence was 
 that with which I saw a new part of your biography. 
 I have not, as you may imagine, been able to find 
 time to read it on the first day after my journey, but 
 the passages which I glanced at here and there have 
 given me a foretaste of the delight with which I 
 shall peruse the whole. The division of years which 
 you have followed in your narration is peculiarly 
 attractive, from the copiousness which it almost 
 necessarily produces. Continue your undertaking 
 with that diligence with which you have begun, and 
 always remember that its copiousness never wearies 
 me, for it is only from full and accurate representa- 
 tions that it is possible to draw true ideas of indi- 
 vidual objects ; and a sense of reality, of individuality, 
 
HUMB OLDT'S LE TTERS. 
 
 85 
 
 is the chief charm of all narration. But I repeat 
 what I have so often said and repeated, that I am 
 anxious that you should not consider this as a task, 
 but as a pleasant retrospect of your former life, in 
 company with one who heartily sympathizes with 
 all its phases. I now perceive the value of the plan 
 which you have pursued, of completing the account 
 of your parents and the sketch of their lives, as well 
 as of the influences and circumstances with which 
 you were surrounded, before you turn to the growth 
 and particular events of your own life. Without 
 such an arrangement, the description of the former 
 must have been imperfect, or interfered with that of 
 the latter. All that you write bears evidence of its 
 truthfulness, and is redolent of that greatest charm 
 of all autobiography — the character of the writer. 
 You have said very truly in your preface, that to 
 consider, as you now do, your past life, is to live it 
 over again ; but the impressions of realities and their 
 reminiscences are very different. 
 
 The pain of distressing circumstances is doubled 
 by the gloom which shrouds their consequences. 
 Our reminiscences are not so, and the pain is much 
 less : the blow which strikes us at the present with 
 its full force loses half its strength in the mass of 
 the future. And surely there must be something 
 
86 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 most beneficial in this inquiry into the past, in this 
 inquiry into our former sentiments and ideas. Well 
 as a man may know himself, every time he de- 
 lineates his own character afresh, the picture is 
 clearer, better defined ; its features are more natural, 
 nearer the truth. Be not afraid that I shall love 
 your character the less by knowing it more thor- 
 oughly. In this respect especially you have no need 
 to crave my kind judgment. Copiousness preserves 
 one from misunderstanding, error, and false judgment. 
 You are very right in thinking that there is more in 
 a life than its actions, and that men are wrong in 
 judging of a man by his last deeds. The Power 
 which searches all hearts, looks to the intentions, 
 the yearnings, the inner workings of the soul, and 
 this also is the aim of history. Every connected 
 narrative which seeks to connect causes with events, 
 whether they be the events of a world or of a 
 private life, is history. The wish to know the cir- 
 cumstances of another's life proceeds with but very 
 few men from the desire to be self-constituted judges, 
 and least of all with me. The observation of an 
 interesting condition of mind, the inquiry into its 
 causes and results, is peculiarly attractive to the 
 spectator, although he may have no wish or in- 
 tention to constitute himself judge ; and he finds, if 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 87 
 
 this phase of character attracts his sympathy and 
 attention, general laws in the particular case, 
 humanity in man. I am convinced, and indeed 
 have experienced already, that your narration will 
 often, without your wishing, without your imagining 
 it, tend to confirm, to feed, and to enlarge the 
 opinion which I have formed from the personal in- 
 tercourse which we enjoyed so many years ago, 
 from your subsequent written communications, and 
 my own ever-undying and unchangeable sympathy 
 with all that concerns you ever since. Continue 
 your work courageously, and never fear that you 
 will be misunderstood. 
 
 llow me to repeat my hearty thanks for the por- 
 
 XL tion of your biography which I received last, 
 and have now read over with great attention and 
 pleasure. I chose my most leisure time for the 
 consideration of your sketches, and have examined 
 them individually with great exactness. You must 
 not accuse me of affectation, when I say that they 
 
 LETTER XXII. 
 
 September 10, 1823. 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 have charmed me exceedingly. The acts and thoughts 
 of a child, how unimportant ! The growth, the devel- 
 opment which leads to these, how interesting ! The 
 positive act or idea is of no value as a lesson ; but, 
 from the gradual expansion of such causative ideas 
 and feelings, much important instruction may be 
 drawn. And, for this purpose, the life of a child is 
 better than that of an adult, for it is less confused, 
 with outward circumstances, more complete in itself, 
 and more fitted for the purposes of comparison. You, 
 for instance, have drawn your character as a child, 
 and a natural connection arises in the mind between 
 that, the characters of your parents, and your own 
 character in latter years. I never lose sight of these 
 three points during the perusal of your history. For 
 it may be fairly determined, that those characteristics 
 of your disposition when a child, which have been 
 through life and now are your characteristics, — it 
 may be fairly determined, I say, that they are essen- 
 tial properties of your spirit. You appear as a child 
 to have been remarkably attentive to the world 
 moving around you ; but, instead of being, as might 
 have been expected, drawn into its vortex, to have 
 drawn from it materials for a world of your own 
 construction. I cannot doubt for an instant that 
 you owe your inner nature to your father, in whom 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 89 
 
 it was present in so different a manner only as it 
 had sprung from different sources. It is not easy 
 to judge respecting the opposite dispositions of your 
 parents, but a decision according to the world's stand- 
 ard must be in favor of your mother. She was active, 
 practical, thoughtful, but yet most truly amiable and 
 loving. Hers was certainly the stronger character 
 of the two. In the character of your father one 
 misses the right idea of life, which may be looked 
 for in a man still more than in a woman. But it is 
 right to be cautious in condemning. It is very mani- 
 fest that we cannot penetrate the mysteries of his 
 inner nature, which it is very probable he never 
 found an opportunity to unfold without reserve. He 
 could not enter into any communion of soul with 
 his wife, as he might have done in later years, and 
 probably did, to a certain degree, with you. But it 
 is seldom that a father seeks sympathy from his 
 grown-up daughters. The ruling trait of your father's 
 character, his disposition to revery, was mingled 
 with something which, if it cannot be called corporeal, 
 was yet independent of the will, and even distinct 
 from all consciousness. 
 
 I confess that, for my own part, I have no love 
 for this inner and independent life of the spirit; I 
 like to have a clear and well-defined consciousness, 
 
90 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 to have no thoughts but those which proceed from, 
 and obey my own free will. I possess, partly as the 
 gift of nature, and partly as the result of habits 
 begun very early in life, a great power and command 
 over myself ; and it is therefore painful to me even 
 to imagine my mind in the condition of your father's, 
 perpetually in the region of dreams, and moved by 
 forces over which, although innate, he had no con- 
 trol. I am very timid of passing any judgment on 
 your father, as I must ever be in respect to those 
 who are nearly connected with you ; but I must say 
 that both your parents should have paid greater and 
 more constant attention to you than they did. Your 
 mother was so different in character, that she could 
 influence you but very little, and so partial in her 
 views, that her only aim was to make you exactly 
 similar to herself. Because this could not be, and 
 because your father interfered to protect you from 
 her unreasonable demands, she left you more to 
 yourself than is at all good for a child. It might 
 have been very beneficial if your mother had been 
 able to instil some of her practical nature into your 
 tender, reserved, contemplative nature. And yet what 
 a blind supposition, what an idle speech is this! 
 Although a more perfect education might have made 
 your mind and soul more perfect, you are so good 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 91 
 
 as you are, that there is little room left for grumbling. 
 If you had gained more of your mother's character, 
 you might have struggled successfully with many 
 obstacles in life, have been spared many, and borne 
 all with firmness, energy, and trustfulness. But 
 much of your spirit would then have been unim- 
 proved and undeveloped ; and if happiness, — I use 
 the word in its common signification of freedom from 
 pain or of positive enjoyment, — if happiness, I say, 
 comes into collision with the wealthier, the fairer 
 treasures of the spirit, so that one or the other must 
 le neglected, let the corporeal be as dust, in com- 
 parison with the gold of the spiritual. Your Aunt 
 L must have had much influence on your educa- 
 tion. Her character is most amiable, and much more 
 like your own than is your mother's. I was very 
 pleasantly surprised to find mention in the last part 
 of your biography of Dohm and his wife. Whilst 
 I was residing in Berlin, before I went to the uni- 
 versity, he was for some time my tutor. I then 
 knew little or nothing of his wife ; but some time 
 after, in the same year that he was made ambassador 
 to A , and that I first met with my dear Char- 
 lotte at Pyrmont, I made a tour up the Rhine, and 
 stayed with him above a week. As Dohm was 
 usually very busy in his study, I had a good deal 
 
92 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 of his wife's company, which I found very agreeable, 
 for she was, as you observe, of very pleasing appear- 
 ance, and most charming disposition. Since that 
 time I have never seen her, and met him but twice 
 since in Frankfort, on his return from Switzerland, 
 in 181*7, when many years had elapsed since our 
 first meeting, and I had experienced several changes 
 of fortune. I must not praise his conduct in the 
 Westphalian affairs, which cam ot, perhaps, be alto- 
 gether defended from the charge of weakness ; but 
 he was personally a brave and well-meaning, anoV, 
 from his knowledge and talents, a most interesting 
 man. At the time which I have mentioned, sickness 
 had shattered his constitution, and he was but a 
 shadow of what he used to be. Accident brought 
 us together about three weeks later. I was lodging 
 at an hotel in Cologne, on my way to London, when 
 a fire broke out in a neighboring house, which, as 
 the streets are very narrow there, was an extremely 
 dangerous circumstance. I arose and went out; 
 and in the street met poor Dohm with a packet 
 under his arm. We had been living in the same 
 hotel without knowing of our near neighborhood. 
 Soon after this he died. You ask me whether I am 
 acquainted with the country about Prussian Minden, 
 and the Porta Westphalia ? No ; I have travelled 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 93 
 
 very hastily through the one, and never set foot in 
 the other province. Their historical associations 
 render them both very attractive ; but it is very 
 improbable that I shall ever become acquainted with 
 them by personal observation, as I now travel with 
 great difficulty, and confine my excursions to a par- 
 ticular circle. I gather from certain expressions 
 which you use, that you wish to ask my advice 
 respecting something. Ask without reserve ; you 
 know the pleasure with which I shall give you the 
 best counsel in my power. You say, however, very 
 truly, that I care very little either to ask or to give 
 advice. People who ask advice have generally de- 
 termined their course without its help. A man can 
 well be guided by others in many things, as in mat- 
 ters of convenience or duty ; but his resolutions 
 must be his own. With all my heart I bid you 
 farewell ! Unchangeably yours, H. 
 
 LETTER XXIII. 
 
 i 
 
 Tegel, September 28, 1823. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, 
 
 have received your letter of the 23d, for which 
 I give you many thanks. I have not time to 
 
94 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 send you an answer to-day, but write so imme- 
 diately, simply for the purpose of giving my advice 
 on the assistance in your affairs which you propose 
 asking of the Duke of Brunswick. I know neither 
 the duke, nor any one of the slightest influence in 
 his dominions, and can, therefore, form no opinion 
 of the effect which local and individual influences 
 may have on your petition. I am on the whole in- 
 clined to think you right in proceeding thus openly 
 and directly. I cannot see that it can be of any 
 disadvantage to you, and need scarcely say that 
 your letter contains nothing which is not perfectly 
 right and becoming. It is possible that your prayer 
 may be granted, and I advise you to write as soon 
 as you learn that the duke is in Brunswick. Ask 
 no more counsel of your friends, but attend to your 
 own inclination and send the letter, not by means 
 of any third person, but direct to the duke by the 
 post. You possess the letters of the duke who fell 
 at Waterloo, in which he expresses his sympathy 
 for you, and holds out the hope of a pension at the 
 conclusion of the campaign. Send the originals of 
 these letters to the son, and found your claims on 
 these expressions of his father. Represent that he 
 granted you his sympathy, to a certain degree, in 
 consideration of your position, but much rather on 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 95 
 
 account of the sacrifices which you had made. Tell 
 him, that if your circumstances are as worthy of 
 commiseration as then, a small income would be a 
 great comfort to you, and refer him, if he need a 
 reference, to your female friend in Brunswick. Be 
 careful to request him, whatever may be his de- 
 cision, to return the letters which you send him, 
 since you regard them as very dear mementos. I 
 cannot give you hope that you will gain anything 
 by this step, the contrary will most probably be tho 
 case. But even then the only bad consequence of 
 your proceeding will be the pain which you must 
 feel at a refusal. On the other hand, I think that 
 the sight of his father's handwriting may influence 
 him much in your favor. I strongly advise you, I 
 repeat, to write to him personally, and am firmly 
 convinced that any other course would be attended 
 with no good result. I do not know whether by 
 the laws of Brunswick, its pensionaries must enjoy 
 their pensions there ; but I suppose that such is the 
 case. However, when you obtain the pension, it 
 will be time enough to ask a dispensation from this 
 regulation. 
 
 Yours, H. 
 
9(» 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 LETTER XXIV. 
 
 Berlin, October 18, 1823. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, 
 
 I have lately answered the most important part of 
 your last letter, and await with some anxiety 
 for your next, to learn whether you have followed 
 my advice. The issue of the step which you pro- 
 posed to take must, of course, be very doubtful, but 
 it could not do harm, and might do good. I have 
 made it a rule through life never to neglect circum- 
 stances which might give a new direction to the 
 course of my life, but rather to employ them, and to 
 weave the thread of such events into the rest of my 
 life, and this is the case with matters which have 
 proceeded some way on their path, as this affair of 
 yours has, by your acquaintance with the late duke. 
 His expressions were so kind that it would be a dis- 
 graceful thing if you should find them of no advan- 
 tage. There is always also a mode of proving 
 men's characters, and, together with that which we 
 can effect by some degree of activity and manage- 
 ment, the views, experiments, and combinations of 
 our experience in life are frequently the most useful, 
 and, at least, by far the most interesting of our 
 acquisitions. 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 9f 
 
 I am very much inclined, even more so than is 
 right, to view life as a comedy, and in the most 
 serious and engrossing occupations never lose the 
 delight which I take in the observation of men and 
 manners. By this means I have greatly added to 
 the resources of my spirit, and received help and 
 consolation in many labors and difficulties. This 
 may be easily understood, and proceeds from a 
 double reason, — the pleasure of tracing causes 
 through all their successive developments, through 
 all the labyrinths of circumstances, to effects, and 
 the interest with which the mind watches the re- 
 sults as far as they concern its own position. 
 Whilst this mode of thought does not weaken in 
 the slightest degree a man's sympathy for his 
 fellows, it renders him prudent, cairn, and collected. 
 This view, especially in important circumstances, 
 affords the conviction that when such circumstances 
 oppose our inclinations, they are still pursuing a 
 course deeply fixed in the firmly established plans 
 of fate. To foresee but the least of these plans is 
 the greatest pleasure of which the human mind is 
 susceptible. I never, however, apply this to the 
 circumstances of my own life, but should consider 
 it both vanity and selfishness if I were to look for- 
 ward with great anxiety to my future prospects, to 
 
9S 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 lay deep plans for my path through life. My per- 
 sonality interests me only as I bear adversity with 
 fortitude, prosperity with modesty, and, for the rest, 
 whether my sea be rough or calm, I care not, simply 
 regarding myself as an atom of the mass. But yet 
 I behold with great pleasure, from a point of view 
 raised high above all self-interest, the characters of 
 those who take part in the scenes of my life, on the 
 nature of which so much depends. Those who 
 would enter on such a study as this must not do 
 so out of mere curiosity, must not look upon this 
 game of life as holiday folks look at a comedy, must 
 not strive simply to understand the changes and 
 chances of humanity in its worldly conditions, but 
 with an intense interest must strive unweariedly to 
 fathom its innermost nature, to comprehend the 
 motions of those powers of fate which, crossing 
 each other's orbits in a myriad of directions, intri- 
 cate and unsearchable, roll on with a harmony in- 
 comprehensible. In this case, as in all others, 
 humanity appears evil or good, according as the 
 position of the spectator is evil or good. Send me, 
 I pray you, the continuation of your biography as 
 soon as you have brought it to a fitting close. Let 
 me have it if possible before the 5th of November ; 
 and if you cannot, keep it back for some little time, 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 99 
 
 for I purpose spending ten days in Thuringia, and, 
 after that, a short time at Burgörner, but, in any 
 case, I shall send you a few lines before my de- 
 parture. With the greatest affection, I remain 
 yours, H. 
 
 That self-sufficiency of which I have spoken, 
 enables me to view good and bad fortune in a very 
 different light from that in which they appear to 
 other men. You speak in your letter, which I 
 found on my arrival here, of "wishing," and ask me 
 whether I have ever yielded to its attractions. I 
 answer, certainly ! and although I do not praise, but 
 rather blame myself for the indulgence, I must say 
 that it has proved to me a great comfort. I learned 
 very young to be content with my own thoughts 
 and feelings, independent of any exterior influences, 
 and now this reserve and self-dependence being so 
 suited to my advanced years, has become to me as 
 a double nature, without, I hope, injuring the 
 warmth of my affection for others. For men are 
 able to conceive it possible to desire without pain, 
 and still to enjoy with thorough heartiness. I find 
 it quite natural to my disposition. But you must 
 not think that I blame the earnest longings and 
 uneasy wishes of others. Every one must have his 
 
100 
 
 II UMB'O'L I) T 'S LETTERS. 
 
 peculiar disposition. I have mine, and neither can 
 nor wish to change it ; bnt can assure you that your 
 expression of the trusting affection which you 
 bestow on me, fills me with much thankfulness. 
 You proceed, I hope, with your biography. I go to 
 Berlin in ten or twelve days, and hope to find letters 
 from you there. 
 
 Yours, H. 
 
 LETTER XXV. 
 
 Berlin, November 3, 1823. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, 
 
 Many thanks for your letter of the 12th ultimo, 
 which I have just received. I have not yet 
 had time to read the portion of your history which 
 you enclosed; I shall devote this paper, therefore, to 
 your petition to the duke and my journey. 
 
 I return you the draft of the letter which you 
 propose to send to the duke unaltered ; it is a little 
 too long, perhaps, but I have thought it better to 
 leave it as it is. When the writer wishes to make 
 an impression, his composition must not be stamped 
 with business, brevity, and exactness, but should 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 101 
 
 rather be an unaffected expression of his feelings, 
 and this appearance is always destroyed or weak- 
 ened by the alterations of a third person. The 
 attempted improvement is an injury. Besides 
 which, I think, on consideration, that the length 
 will be no disadvantage, as the interest with which 
 the duke must see his father's handwriting would 
 carry him to the end of your memorial with in- 
 terest, even were it much longer. I leave this place 
 in a few days, and wish you to write to me at Bur- 
 görner. Write on the cover — To be left till called 
 for. Pardon the haste in which I write. Farewell ! 
 
 Yours, H. 
 
 LETTER XXVI. 
 
 Burgörner, November 29, 1823. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, 
 
 I had but just read your letter of the 25th ult., 
 when I received your letter of the 25th inst, 
 and another part of your history, for both of which 
 I give you my hearty thanks. If my departure had 
 not been accidentally delayed, I should not have 
 received your first letter until my return, as I had 
 left no orders that my letters should be forwarded, 
 
102 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 and must, therefore, consider the delay as very for- 
 tunate. My best wishes go with the memorial 
 which you have at length sent to the duke, which I 
 begin to hope will have some good consequences, 
 for I confide much in the effect of the late duke's 
 letters. 
 
 My health, I rejoice to say, is very good, and the 
 weather is not merely fine for the season of the year, 
 but is really very charming. The sun to-day has 
 been particularly warm and cheering, lighting an 
 almost unclouded sky. As I have many occupa- 
 tions, both public and private, I am particularly 
 fond of living here, where I am so free from inter- 
 ruption, and where the solitude is so cheerful. The 
 joy, moreover, of living with my family is an inde- 
 scribably pleasant addition to the happiness of my 
 independently happy life. I have never been able 
 to understand how that deserved to be called happi- 
 ness which simply supplied a need, which was near 
 unhappiness ; and it has always appeared to me that 
 that only is true happiness which a man acquires, 
 when, by satisfying himself with the most ordinary 
 circumstances, he keeps his inclinations and his feel- 
 ings in subjection to himself, and, by doing which, 
 he so exalts his condition, though satisfactory in 
 itself, that his original state, compared with what it 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 103 
 
 now is, seems to have been essentially defective. I 
 have ever been a stranger to violent desires and 
 passionate expressions. But I will neither praise 
 nor defend this disposition, which may proceed from 
 a want of that natural fire and energy which is so 
 necessary to a man for the successful prosecution of 
 many most important and serious undertakings; and 
 which, I may observe, was not always so peculiar 
 to my character as it is now, when it is so proper 
 for my years. Youth must lose in manhood the too 
 passionate life of his feelings, and yet retain suffi- 
 cient of their fire for the nourishment of firmness 
 and energy. 
 
 I now return to the subject of your biography, for 
 the last part of which I have already thanked you. 
 I read it through last evening without pause, and 
 was, as usual, extremely delighted. The interest is 
 not at all injured, as you seem to fear, by the mis- 
 placing of some parts of the narrative. In such 
 reminiscences as those which compose your narra- 
 tive, it would be absurd to look for exact chrono- 
 logical arrangement, and so far from being vexed at 
 the slight want of it which they display, I only read 
 them with ever increasing wonder that you should 
 remember so much of the days of your childhood. 
 This portion of your history consists for the most 
 
104 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 part of conversations, and this gives it the advan- 
 tage over all the former. Every thing contained in 
 it is excellently conceived, and that, as you rightly 
 observe, is the most indispensable requisite of good 
 writing, and is united in your narrative with the 
 other excellence of exactness. I am very much in- 
 terested in thus tracing the development of your 
 mind, and quite concur with your observation that 
 your intercourse with those who were so much 
 older than yourself was a means of instruction the 
 more lasting that it was so slight, and fell on a 
 mind so earnestly desirous of a richer and more 
 abundant instruction. And I have little doubt that 
 this mode of education has been more valuable to 
 you than any fine systematic course of instruction 
 could have been. Such an education as the latter 
 is not always the direct road to the formation of a 
 good character, or the accumulation of knowledge. 
 The confluence of the myriad circumstances about 
 him, however slight in their nature, frequently has 
 a greater part in the formation of a man's mind 
 than any direct control; for the result of an edu- 
 cation depends on the power with which a man 
 seizes on opportunities, and takes advantage of their 
 influence. I have observed with great pleasure that 
 the disposition and understanding of your childhood 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 105 
 
 exist in these later years of your life. For it has 
 long been my favorite opinion that the real nature 
 of a man's mind never changes. It may lay aside 
 the errors of youth for the virtues of age, or ex- 
 change its early innocence for odious vices, but 
 whether by activity or contemplation, violence or 
 gentleness, whether energetically and boldly it seized 
 on life, or was content to glide over its unfathomed 
 waters, the sport of every treacherous gale, what- 
 ever were the distinguishing features of its youth, 
 they will be, I maintain, the distinguishing features 
 of its maturity. This is the chief substance of what 
 I wish to say on the subject of the last portion of 
 your biography. But I shall return to it at some 
 other time. I should be very glad if you would 
 weave into your narrative any letters or other docu- 
 ments which may be connected with it. I wish not 
 merely to have a perfect knowledge of your charac- 
 ter, but to see you as portrayed by yourself. For 
 the picture of your former self, drawn by yourself, 
 and breathing your present self, united by your own 
 hands to the picture of your present being, so 
 strongly characteristic of your past, possesses for 
 me an indescribable charm. As I very shortly leave 
 this place, and yet shall not be in Berlin till Christ- 
 mas, I pray you write to me, so that I may receive 
 
106 
 
 // 1 IIB OL D T ' S L E TTE R S. 
 
 your letters just before New Year's day. My wife, 
 I rejoice to say, is very well ; it is her custom to 
 visit a watering-place once a year, sometimes with, 
 and sometimes without me, and she is at present 
 happily established at Marienbad. The report which 
 you heard was malice or exaggeration. With hearty 
 thanks for your sympathy and unchanging affection, 
 believe me yours, H. 
 
 My dear Charlotte, 
 
 /r any thanks for your letter of the 21st, and the 
 
 JAJL affection which it breathes towards me. I 
 return most heartily your wishes for a happy new 
 year in my behalf, and as none can feel for you a 
 more intense affection than I, so none can wish you 
 more sincerely than I do, — a happy and many 
 happy new years. Take care of yourself, my dearest 
 Charlotte, take care of your health, and take great 
 care to be quiet, to be composed. For the light and 
 shade, the happiness and unhappiness of a man's 
 life, depend on the disposition with which he regards 
 it. An unalloyed contentment of mind cannot be 
 
 LETTER XXVII. 
 
 Berlin, Jan. 12th, 1824. 
 
Ii UM HOL DT 'S LE TTERS. 
 
 10t 
 
 bought by man, it is the golden gift of heaven. But 
 it is within the reach of all to soften to himself the 
 rough shocks of life in this busy world. He may 
 receive them courageously, sustain them patiently, 
 and by his prudence alleviate or turn them aside ; 
 but even if his mind be unequal to these exertions, 
 it need not, as is the case with too many, exert 
 itself to annoy itself. These efforts ought not to be 
 regarded as an impious attempt to shield ourselves 
 from the might of heaven ; for it must surely be the 
 will of God that we should use the strength and 
 power, which he has given into our hands, against 
 the violence of earthly foes, and the burdens of this 
 our lower fate. I have made these observations, 
 because, as I grieve to find, you give yourself up to 
 sad forebodings and imaginary terrors. Your words, 
 " Be not too severe on my weakness, — I do nothing 
 but fear, an unhappy future haunts me like a spectre, 
 — I am the slave of superstition, and superstition 
 knows no peace," have made me sad indeed, and 
 called forth my preceding observations. You have 
 spoken so clearly and so well, reasoned so closely 
 and correctly on superstition and melancholy in 
 respect to your father, that you should be the last 
 of all people to be moved by such trifles as those 
 which now disturb and unsettle you. Do not think 
 
108 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 that I reproach you, be sure that I should never do 
 that ; my only desire is that you should not vainly 
 trouble yourself by yielding to imaginary sorrows, 
 which can but increase those which are real, injure 
 your health, and hinder you from any real and 
 healthful exertions. I write thus openly because I 
 am convinced that the open expression of my senti- 
 ments must influence you more than any other, and 
 have your repeated assurance that you find strength 
 and consolation in my words. 
 
 I am established for the spring in Berlin, and wish 
 you to direct your letters as usual. I should be very 
 glad to receive a further portion of your autobiog- 
 raphy. I perfectly agree with what you have said 
 respecting it, and think that we shall also agree in 
 the following observations. It is susceptible, I think, 
 of the following three divisions : first, the continua- 
 tion of the history of your childhood until your mar- 
 riage ; secondly, of your married life ; and thirdly, 
 of your widowhood up to this time. I may judge 
 from what you have already written, that you will 
 find no difficulty in the first division, — the less, that 
 it arouses no unpleasant reminiscences, and from its 
 very nature must be suggestive of pleasant thoughts. 
 I have often declared, and repeat, that it interests 
 me exceedingly, and beseech you therefore to send 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 109 
 
 me some further portion of it, how rauch I of course 
 leave to you, and must be decided by your inclina- 
 tion and other avocations. Whether you will ever 
 write or submit to my perusal the second division 
 of your biography is another question. I need not 
 say how much it would delight me ; but I feel with 
 you that to write it would be to tear open many 
 wounds, to prepare for yourself a long season of 
 distress, and that the pleasure which I must feel in 
 its perusal would be much embittered by this con- 
 sideration ; although I do not consider the retrospect 
 of evil such an evil as you do, for it ever possesses 
 for me a certain sweetness, and I love it moreover 
 for the assistance which it gives me in gaining that 
 independence of fortune which is so indispensable 
 to a manly character. But I cannot give you my 
 disposition, nor am I quite sure that I should have 
 maintained it under such misfortunes as yours. It 
 is for you to decide, my dear Charlotte, whether 
 you will break off in your narrative at the close of 
 the first, or carry it on to the second period of your 
 life. I am convinced, and the conviction fills me 
 with great pleasure, that you would make a great 
 sacrifice for my sake, but I could take no pleasure in 
 a gratification purchased at the expense of much 
 pain to you. The third period is not open to such 
 
110 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 great objections as the second, but in your narrative 
 of the former you must too often refer to the latter ; 
 your present sentiments are too closely interwoven, 
 too greatly dependent on those of the second period 
 of your life, to be considered and delineated without 
 much pain. But however this may be, let me have, 
 at least, that which I have desired so long, — a vivid 
 and perfect description of another's youth and child- 
 hood. And now farewell ! Be comforted, confide in 
 the future, and ever be careful not to add imaginary 
 to real cares. With unchangeable affection I remain 
 
 |Here are several defences against the strokes of 
 
 -L fate ; they are, — patience, and submission to its 
 ordinances, and a firm hope and confidence that they 
 will work together for good. 
 
 You ask me whether I have ever read the Bible. 
 Yes. I have read it through many times ; the last 
 of which was during my stay in London, and I am 
 very well acquainted with the chapter in the Corinth- 
 ians, to which you allude. It is one of the finest in 
 
 Yours. 
 
 H. 
 
 LETTER XXVIII. 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 Ill 
 
 the New Testament, if rightly understood ; but it is 
 also one of those which may be too easily interpreted 
 according to our own feelings and peculiar ideas, and 
 still, though these may be very pious, wrongly inter- 
 preted. In the Greek text, however, this is less 
 possible. Our German language has the word love 
 (Liebe), which, indeed, is a very noble and beautiful 
 word, but has many different significations. Now in 
 Greek there is one particular word for that gentle, 
 long-suffering, heaven-aspiring love, which is meant 
 by our word " love " in this chapter, a word which 
 is never used for the love of the two sexes. I am 
 far, nevertheless, from blaming our Lutheran trans- 
 lation on this account, for I admire this word " love " 
 with its many significations, touching, as it does, the 
 very root of all our sensibilities. Two things, it 
 appears to me, render this chapter pre-eminently 
 great and valuable, and show the sense in which the 
 Apostle used the word " love : " first, the meaning 
 of the passage points, not merely to eternity, but to 
 love itself, as something eternal, and opposed to 
 many other things, themselves great and valuable, 
 but yet of only temporary duration ; and next, love 
 is described, not as a separate feeling, but visibly as 
 a whole condition of the soul diffusing itself over 
 the entire man. Love, that is, never fails. This 
 
112 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 sufficiently proves that it must be directed to objects 
 which are themselves eternal and imperishable ; and 
 that it must become proper to the heart in such a 
 manner, that in no condition of being it can be de- 
 prived of its presence. It is not, indeed, of a par- 
 ticular, defined love, of which the Apostle speaks — j 
 not even of that of the Supreme Being — but of an 
 inward sentiment, or disposition of the soul, which 
 pours forth itself upon all things worthy of love, or 
 to which love can be applied. At the first view of 
 the subject it is not easy to understand, why, since 
 everything here below is described as vain and par- 
 tial, love alone should be considered as belonging to 
 that which is entire and perfect. Whatever else the 
 Apostle names is plainly spoken of as imperfect, 
 because it cannot be otherwise in finite beings ; and 
 love itself, however pure and exalted it may be, still 
 only exists in finite creatures, as described in this 
 portion of Scripture. The distinction which is made 
 may probably be thus explained : — The other things 
 of which the Apostle speaks as imperfect, presuppose 
 a degree of knowledge and power to render them 
 otherwise, which cannot be found in human and 
 finite beings ; but love, on the contrary, has its birth 
 in a condition confessedly necessitous : it pertains 
 purely to sentiment and feeling, and is altogether 
 
f 
 
 Ii I M BOL I) T 'S L E T I ERS. \ \ 3 
 
 self-sacrificing, obedient, and resigned. Hence it is 
 not so confined or contracted by the bonds of a finite 
 nature. But it could not indeed abide in man at all, 
 if there were not in his innermost being a principle 
 which connects him with the infinite ; and when the 
 breath of love once inspires him, he feels more than 
 ever his relationship with Heaven. But, as I said 
 at the beginning, most persons will interpret this 
 passage of the Bible, and without necessarily mis- 
 understanding it, according to their own individual 
 feeling. I, on the contrary, believe, that the term 
 "love," as here used, ought to be understood as 
 distinct from all particular, individual sentiments : 
 that it should be taken only as the representation 
 of a loftier state of the soul, which, free from all 
 selfishness, far removed from the influence of every 
 passion, complacently resigns itself alike to prosperity 
 and adversity, and from this its own state of rest 
 diffuses a genial warmth upon all by which it is 
 surrounded. And hence it is said, that love envieth 
 not ; behaveth not itself unseemly, &c. : hence it is 
 that it is raised above faith and hope, and especially 
 above works, which can only appear for the moment. 
 And this is properly the case, since, if love be as 
 here described, works must spring from its own 
 influence. To this state of the soul, anxiety, rest- 
 
114 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 lessness, care, covetousness, thoughts of right, rather 
 than of duty, arising from vanity and self-conceit, are 
 altogether foreign. It is thus that I interpret this 
 portion of Scripture ; but I am far from asserting 
 that no other view might be taken of its meaning. 
 
 ou ask me what is the meaning of that distinction 
 
 _L between those who prophesy, and those who 
 speak with tongues, which St. Paul makes in the 
 14th chapter of the 1st epistle to the Corinthians. 
 It is, indeed, a difficult passage, and one which we 
 may consider a long while without finding out the 
 right meaning. The distribution of light and shade 
 in the New Testament, is one of its chief beauties. 
 All that which concerns the improvement, the com- 
 fort, the edification of man, is perfectly clear, and the 
 clear-obscure of the less apparent passages is by no 
 means an injury to it, A man whilst he fulfils his 
 duties, which is the only thing absolutely necessary, 
 must have some guide and assistance in his passage 
 over the deep waters of life, and in fathoming their 
 depths ; and this guide and assistance he finds in 
 
 LETTER XXIX. 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 115 
 
 these passages of a book which is given him to be 
 ever in his hands ; mysteries are placed before him 
 that by earnest contemplation he may fathom them. 
 I understand the passage respecting the speaking 
 with tongues thus : — The Apostle has placed the 
 two things in opposition. Speaking is with the 
 tongue or with tongues, and prophesying with the 
 spirit and the understanding. Luther has, I believe, 
 so translated the Greek word ; but I have no German 
 Bible at hand. By the speaking with tongues, he 
 understands, as I think, that inspired discourse which, 
 obeying some superior impulse, springs forth from the 
 heart of a man, without care whether it be heard or 
 understood. Of this kind is a man's discourse with 
 God and himself. He does not understand the word 
 "prophecy" as a prediction of the future, but an 
 open declaration of great and important truths : 
 whoever did this in the east was called a prophet, 
 such a declaration having plainly for its purpose 
 instruction and edification ; and that it might be 
 suited to the capacities of the hearers, it was neces- 
 sarily conveyed in words prepared by the under- 
 standing of some for the understanding of others. 
 The Apostle, therefore, very properly defines the 
 relation which these two voices of the soul bear to 
 
 each other. The speech of inspiration is the most 
 8 
 
116 
 
 /// MBU LI) T'S LETTERS. 
 
 glorious of the voices of humanity ; on the nature 
 of a man's conversation with God, depends his capa- 
 bility of being useful to his fellow men. By that 
 means he edifies himself, and, as the Apostle rightly 
 observes, none can edify others who is not edified. 
 But this inner inspiration of a man's soul is not 
 directly useful to others, and therefore not so fitted 
 for instruction as prophesying, which is the means 
 of giving inspiration to others. But the highest 
 privilege is to possess both these gifts, to be inspired 
 in ourselves, and to have power to instruct others 
 by prophecy. This is very clearly expressed in the 
 fifth verse, where the Apostle wishes that all might 
 have the gift of tongues, but much rather that all 
 should teach, because this is so much the more use- 
 ful. This wish of the Apostle countenanced the 
 practice of the early church, by which every member 
 of the congregation had a right to speak. The ex- 
 pression " with tongues or with the tongue," is curi- 
 ous, but perfectly right. In Greek, the word which 
 is translated into our word tongues signifies foreign, 
 unknown, or unusual words. This may be also 
 taken into consideration, that when the Apostles 
 were filled with the Holy Spirit they spoke in un- 
 known tongues. Both agree with the inspired lan- 
 guage which one uses when meditating enraptured 
 
HUMB OLD T 'S LETTERS. 
 
 over his own thoughts, little caring or questioning 
 whether another understands them or not. But I 
 do not think both expressions equally applicable, espe- 
 cially on this account: the expression is "to speak 
 with the tongue," and not merely with "tongues." 
 The explanation of the expression may be made 
 simpler. When a man speaks of his own experience, 
 of that which is very manifest to his own thoughts, 
 his tongue is but the senseless tool of his understand- 
 ing. But when a man suddenly expresses the exalted 
 but ill-defined ideas which occur to him, the gift of 
 a superior spirit, before that he has tracked their 
 glimmering lights to the full glare of apparent truth, 
 it is not the understanding which speaks, but the 
 tongue, in obedience to the mandate of some foreign 
 power. This may be called with particular correct- 
 ness the voice of the Spirit. The word "tongue" 
 is used only in a figurative sense ; and as the Apostle 
 holds that that which the tongue declares, in the 
 manner which I have mentioned above, is the voice 
 of an exalted Spirit, even the Holy Ghost, he may 
 very properly attribute such sayings of men to the 
 "tongue." The Holy Spirit lays the truth on men's 
 tongues, which they could never find or comprehend 
 of their own power. It is well said of a man who 
 expresses what he does not think, that he speaks 
 with the tongue and not with the heart. 
 
118 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 The tongue speaks in this case (from an inner 
 inspiration or divine impulse) without consulting 
 the humanly reasoning and judging mind. In this 
 consists the beauty of the Apostle's observation. 
 We should ever seek for inspiration, for conversation 
 with God, but ought to strive much more earnestly 
 for an understanding fitted to instruct. 
 
 Yours, H. 
 
 LETTER XXX. 
 
 Berlin, March 12, 1824. 
 
 I return you my hearty thanks for your letter of 
 the 21st. I am very grieved to find that you 
 are still a prey to imaginary anxieties and sad fore- 
 bodings. Do, I beseech you, dear Charlotte, make 
 every effort to gain greater command over your own 
 mind, for the sake of its inner health and improve- 
 ment. Whether I write early or late, fully or briefly, 
 depends on so many adventitious circumstances, that 
 you must never suffer anything of that sort to give 
 you a moment's uneasiness. It is pleasant to find, 
 in your anxiety after the state of my health, another 
 proof of your friendship, but I assure you that I am 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 119 
 
 perfectly well. My whole time is occupied with 
 important matters. I scarcely leave my library till 
 late in the evening. I am busy and active. Surely 
 no one could fear ill health who passed a life like 
 this ! I know that any day or hour may bring with 
 it ill health, but when it comes it will find me pre- 
 pared. Sickness has but little effect on my mind, 
 for I have disciplined myself, from very early youth, 
 and you must not think me very unfortunate should 
 I for once be really ill, for I have been able to give 
 such a direction to my occupations that they would 
 suffer but little injury from any present delay. I am 
 glad to find, from your letter, that you are in good 
 health, and have passed through this very severe 
 winter much more happily than I had expected. 
 In the absence of lasting and violent cold, I care 
 but little for the petty annoyances which are neces- 
 sarily attendant on changeable winter weather. 
 Genuine actual cold has somewhat more in it than 
 simply physical benumbing effect ; it occurs regularly 
 that men should never be altogether free from its 
 visitation ; it gives Nature herself so uniform a look, 
 and is truly unmerciful to the poor, unless they are 
 so happy as to live in southern lands, where they 
 are at least free from this plague. It is long, my 
 dear Charlotte, since you sent me any portion of 
 
120 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 your biography. The winter, I suppose, with its 
 multitudinous occupations and short days, is guilty 
 of this neglect. I earnestly request you, if you have 
 time and inclination, to continue your narrative to 
 the time of your marriage. I will not ask you for 
 more than this. But up to this point your autobiog- 
 raphy must be, I think, an amusing and comforting 
 occupation. If you have sufficient to form a tolerably 
 large packet, pray send it to me directly, in the usual 
 way. Remember that the condition of my being 
 pleased by your exertions is that they are pleasing 
 to you also. That which you have already sent me 
 forms a cheerful, attractive, and vivid picture, which 
 it would be a pity not to finish, as it now needs but 
 so few touches. 
 
 I spent some hours to-day in Tegel, and, unfavor- 
 able as was the weather, enjoyed them very much. 
 The spring approaches rapidly, and fills us with the 
 sense of a new youth. Our spirits become joyous, 
 and we imagine that a new period of existence is 
 dawning upon us, without thinking how few, how 
 very few months must elapse before the return of 
 winter. But this self-deception is delightful and 
 healthful, an ever-recurring pleasurable circumstance 
 of life. I may say, at least, for my own part, that I 
 have experienced similar sensations from my earliest 
 
// CM Ii /, I) T 'S LETTERS. 
 
 121 
 
 childhood ; and I cannot imagine you, so interested 
 and active as you are, in your garden, without them. 
 With the most unchanging affection, I remain, 
 
 he successful issue of our undertakings is the 
 
 JL result of an indescribable energy which is not 
 the part of a man's own nature ; a blessing which, 
 as you rightly observe, proceeding from a higher 
 intelligence, rests on each man with a fulness pro- 
 portioned to the purity of his soul. A blessing which 
 once gained cannot be lost, but is ever working in a 
 man's inner being, invisibly and mysteriously. The 
 ideas of men, who are the most anxious that their 
 ideas should be correct, respecting happiness and 
 unhappiness, are so various and undecided, that it 
 has ever been a great object with me to render my- 
 self independent of either; and from the success 
 which, to a certain degree, has attended my efforts, 
 I am convinced that a large amount of happiness 
 may be the .portion of every man, who is ready to 
 draw the good and the sweet from all the circum- 
 
 Yours, 
 
 EL 
 
 LETTER XXXI. 
 
 April, 1824. 
 
122 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 stances of life, without identifying himself with 
 any. 
 
 Although, dear Charlotte, you did not perfectly 
 understand my last letter, you at least learned from 
 it the continuance of my most hearty interest in 
 everything which concerns you, my tenderest sym- 
 pathy. I wish nothing more sincerely than that, 
 free from all your vexations, you may lead a quiet 
 happy life, in the full possession of your health, and 
 of those simple pleasures which you hold so dear. 
 1 rejoice that I have a prominent place in your 
 thoughts, and repeat my earnest prayer that you 
 will never hesitate to express any wish that you 
 may have beyond your means, which, if it be within 
 mine, shall be instantly gratified. Lay aside all 
 false delicacy. Remember our agreement of mutual 
 confidence. I am very grieved to find that you still 
 make such exertions whilst yet suffering distress 
 both of body and mind. Although I honor you for 
 it, I cannot but wish to see you in a position more 
 accordant with your original station, possessing that 
 leisure which you could employ so well. Permit 
 me to advise you to indulge yourself with some 
 recreation or luxury in this beautiful spring-tide. 
 Would not a course of baths do you good ? Answer 
 me, dear Charlotte, in full confidence. 
 
 Yours, H. 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 123 
 
 LETTER XXXII. 
 
 May. 
 
 ou cannot imagine the pleasure which the last 
 
 J- portion of your biography has given me. I 
 have read it through with the greatest sympathy. 
 It is a most happy and interesting picture of the life 
 which you led in the midst of happy circumstances 
 and interesting people. It makes the past visible as 
 the present. You have delineated most accurately 
 the various manners and characteristics of the Ger- 
 man provinces; and in these, as well as in many 
 other portions of your narrative, not directly con- 
 nected with yourself, I have been exceedingly in- 
 terested : among other things, with your account of 
 Baum, which formed the summer residence of the 
 remarkable and famous Earl of Lippe-Bückeburg. 
 The dwellings of distinguished men always have a 
 peculiarly moving and exalting charm for me ; a 
 charm which I feel to its fullest extent in approach- 
 ing places connected with such associations as Pots- 
 dam. Kings always transform the neighborhood of 
 their habitations, and stamp it with the impress of 
 their glory, giving to contemplative minds many a 
 trace of their characters. The mere thought even 
 
124 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 that we walk on spots, and in the midst of scenes, 
 where they have once walked, which they have once 
 beheld, helps the mind to realize the idea which it 
 has formed of them, and excites feelings in my heart 
 which, to those of a cold and practical disposition, 
 may appear ridiculous. 
 
 Baum must have been made by its possessor, if I 
 may credit your beautiful and brilliant description, a 
 remarkable and attractive place. The union of the 
 princely resources of art and unwearied boldness of 
 fancy, with the glorious charms of nature, is pecu- 
 liarly delightful ; and, judging from the few parts of 
 Westphalia, which I have seen, the breadth, depth, 
 and freshness of the scenes which you describe 
 must give them a nobleness indescribable. But far 
 more interesting to me than any physical beauties 
 are the sketches which you give of the earl's life. 
 The tenderness of his feelings for a sick wife, the 
 philosophy and love for religion of a man who was 
 distinguished for his courage, high spirit, and so 
 many extraordinary qualities, as appears from the 
 anecdotes which you relate respecting him, the 
 domestic virtues, I say, of such a man have a 
 double beauty. Especially affecting is the care with 
 which he ever tended his sick wife himself, refusing 
 to entrust her to the love of any but himself. In 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 125 
 
 that strict solitude in which he lived with the object 
 of all his affections, and which he made jet stricter 
 after her death, appears the might of his soul, which 
 was sufficient of itself for itself, and found in itself 
 that contentment which so many seek in vain. That 
 the unfortunate man died of poison, I consider one 
 of those tales which were formerly current in Pro- 
 testant countries, respecting those who had been in 
 Southern lands and were engaged in hostilities with 
 the priesthood. Xo poison is known of so slow an 
 action as his is said to have been ; as for Aqua 
 Toffana, it is a perfectly meaningless name, or, at 
 least, it is quite certain that there is no known 
 poison of that name. In the hall of an old house 
 near here there used to hang many pictures of 
 princes and other remarkable persons, with all of 
 whom my father was well acquainted, and among 
 them a portrait of William, Earl of Lippe-Bücke- 
 burg, which I remember very well. But when the 
 French were in this part of the country, and many 
 of them quartered in this mansion, most of the 
 paintings were injured or lost, the earl's portrait 
 being among the latter, for which I doubly grieve 
 after reading your account. 
 
 The power which you possessed as a child of 
 creating phantasies of objects, whose existence you 
 
126 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 wished or expected, belonged to me also from my 
 earliest infancy, from my sixth year I think. The 
 habit seems to have been first aroused in you by the 
 longing for a friend, and the perusal of Clarissa ; but 
 was caused in me by no outward circumstances that 
 I remember. The objects which passed through my 
 mind in this manner were very numerous and 
 various ; but one has remained with me from the 
 time of my childhood until now, and will probably 
 so remain until my death. If I lie awake at night, 
 ride or walk alone, or at any time am unoccupied in 
 my thoughts, this phantom of my childhood stalks 
 before me, ever changing its form, but still ever the 
 same. As this is an object unlike any of the figures 
 which I meet in life, it disappears before the reality 
 of life ; but whether it approach or leave me, I am 
 ever heartily thankful for this power of peopling my 
 thoughts. It is especially the natural consequence 
 of all activity of mind and liveliness of imagination, 
 that the realities of life fall into the shade, and the 
 diminution of the too great importance which we 
 attach to them is ever healthful, for then misfortune 
 has less power to harm us, happiness ceases to de- 
 pend on their enjoyment, and makes the thought 
 bearable that good fortune is transitory. You will 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 121 
 
 please me very much by continuing diligently your 
 autobiography. 
 
 Yours, most affectionately, H. 
 
 LETTER XXXIII. 
 
 Tegel, June 15, 1824. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, 
 
 I return you many thanks for your last letter, and 
 that dated the 22d May, both of which I re- 
 ceived just before Whitsuntide. I write to you 
 some days later than I should otherwise have done, 
 because, as in the first of these letters, you promised 
 another very speedily, I thought it better to wait 
 until I could answer both at the same time. This 
 is my apology for the neglect of which I have appa- 
 rently been guilty. My joy that your health is 
 generally very good has been much damped by the 
 account which you give of the pains in your hands, 
 which have plainly declared themselves rheumatic, 
 by their continuance through this fine warm weather; 
 and may, if not met in time with the proper reme- 
 dies, which I entreat you to use immediately, be the 
 forerunner of a severe attack of gout. Does this 
 
128 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 pain in your hands simply disturb, or seriously 
 trouble you in your occupations? Pray remember 
 that the pleasure, the very great pleasure which I 
 take in your letters would be purchased too dearly, 
 if at the expense of feeling that its gratification 
 caused you annoyance and distress. I am inclined 
 to think, however, that your ordinary occupations 
 now cause you less pain, partly because, as you 
 once said, the portion of the work which requires 
 most effort you can accomplish by the aid of others, 
 and partly because while writing requires but little 
 strength, the holding of the pen is itself painful. I 
 have ever disliked writing, and even now write 
 unwillingly; this may sound strange from one who 
 has written so much as I, but, nevertheless, it is 
 true. Still I have not written so much as the world 
 might suppose. From my childhood I have loved 
 to live in my own soul rather than in the world 
 amidst my fellow creatures, and have seldom taken 
 pleasure in communicating with others. I have 
 never taken any pleasure either in narrating or de- 
 scribing, and when it has been necessary that I 
 should do either, my narrations and descriptions 
 have been as short as possible ; while, on the other 
 hand, I have taken especial delight in the narrations 
 and descriptions of others. You may, perhaps, trace 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 129 
 
 some selfishness in this love of receiving and dislike 
 to giving, — be it so, I must plead guilty. It has 
 ever been my nature to write little and sjJeak little ; 
 when I make an exception to these habits, it is to 
 please some one who may value my writings and 
 my words. 
 
 You seem, dear Charlotte, to be once more busily 
 engaged with your occupations, at which, if it does 
 not weary you too much, I am greatly rejoiced. I 
 have ever honored the peculiar strength of your 
 character which has enabled you to maintain your 
 independence after your great losses ; and in the 
 prosecution of this object to soften, if not forget, 
 many of your sorrows, and to gratify your chief 
 inclination, the contemplation of nature. And it 
 has therefore ever been my wish that you should 
 give such a direction to this pursuit as to render its 
 continuance possible and advantageous to you in 
 later years, and at less expense of labor. 
 
 I share to its full extent your feeling that visits 
 are more disturbing during a short period of relaxa- 
 tion from our ordinary occupations than at any other 
 time, and am with you very much opposed to the 
 practice Which most people follow of overwhelming 
 one at such times with their unwelcome attentions. 
 I shall commence my journey within a few days, and 
 
130 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 as I cannot be certain of the place of my residence 
 until the end of July, must request you, although it 
 will be a 'great sorrow to me to have no letters from 
 you for so long a time, not to write till after then, 
 and then to direct to Ottmachau, near Neisse, in 
 Silesia. Farewell ! I remain, with unchangeable 
 affection, Yours, H. 
 
 LETTER XXXIV. 
 
 Herrnstadt, June 9, 1824. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, 
 
 I write to you in the Roman characters, because 
 my eye-sight has been for some time very bad, 
 and I discover that the large clear Roman letters try 
 them less than the little German figures. The change 
 will render also the perusal of my writing less diffi- 
 cult to you. There are some persons, I know, who 
 dislike the Roman text, and will not use it in corre- 
 sponding with persons whom they esteem. You are, 
 I well know, free from such narrow prejudices, but 
 if you dislike in any way this mode of writing, I 
 will instantly desist from the innovation, ff I have 
 never informed you of the circumstance of my second 
 daughter's marriage, it is scarcely probable that you 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. \%\ 
 
 will know anything of the place from which I date 
 my letter ; but you must not be surprised at this, for, 
 as I wrote to you from Berlin, it is a very unusual 
 thing with me to make any mention in my letters 
 of family affairs. I have been but a very few days 
 at this place, an unimportant little town, distant 
 about a day's journey from Breslau, and after a few 
 more I propose going to my estate at Ottmachau, to 
 which place I wish you to direct your next letter. 
 I have always taken a peculiar pleasure in thinking 
 that for our sakes a friend regards a place, whose 
 name he has scarcely ever heard, with friendly sym- 
 pathy as our abode. Such feelings will be excited 
 in your heart by the superscription of my letter. 
 The weather here is warm and moist ; and, although 
 rather relaxing to the spirits, has for me a very 
 pleasing melancholy. The silence of nature is more 
 sweetly still, and a veil of haze darkling over all 
 the landscape softens, without obscuring, forms and 
 colors. I am doubly attentive, during a journey, 
 to the various modifications of the scenery which 
 are produced by the changes of the atmosphere, 
 finding, in these modifications of physical scenery, 
 semblances of the various shades of character among 
 men ; — calm and boisterous, gentle and harsh, cheer- 
 ful and mournful, humorous and morose, they are all 
 9 
 
132 
 
 7/ UMBO L DT' S L E T TERS. 
 
 there. In this manner they appear to him who 
 knows how to view them aright. I may safely 
 affirm that I only experience this feeling so far as 
 it is agreeable and cheering. The weather never 
 has any unpleasant influence upon me ; but be it 
 foul or fair, I receive it with as much indifference as 
 smiling or terrible scenes in a theatre. I suppose, 
 bv-the-by, that you never, or at most but very seldom, 
 visit the theatre. It has closed doors for me, for my 
 eyes are too weak to bear the glare of the lamps, and 
 my hearing too weak to distinguish the words of the 
 best speaker. The genius even of a company of 
 actors, who are now performing here, and in whose 
 theatre one need not fear being blinded by excess of 
 light, and where the complaint is not that of not 
 hearing, but of being stunned by hearing too much, 
 has not prevailed upon me to break through my usual 
 habit. A person debars himself of much who neglects, 
 when not compelled to do so by circumstances, to see 
 a good play in the hands of good actors. Even where 
 the actors are but indifferent, if the piece be but a 
 good one, there is something w T hich interests and 
 exalts most people to a far higher degree than could 
 have been effected by the solitary perusal of any 
 book ; but, on the other hand, how much sw r eeter, 
 how charming a thing it is. apart from all other 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 133 
 
 friends, to find a friend in a book! When I was 
 young, and even when I had reached man's estate, 
 I took a lively pleasure in justifying my aversion to 
 society, and my old inclinations are now, when they 
 are so suitable to my age, firmer than ever. I always 
 looked forward to old age with peculiar delight, and 
 now that I am approaching it, I find my expectations 
 surpassed. I am fifty-seven years old, and having 
 been subject to but very few bodily afflictions — hav- 
 ing led a very regular life, and indulged in no excite- 
 ments which injure health — I have not many infirmi- 
 ties. But it is difficult to obtain, in early youth, a 
 perfect serenity of soul, and independence of all out- 
 ward things, and when obtained, it, unfortunately, 
 too frequently becomes coldness and insensibility, 
 which are worse than the greatest susceptibility. It 
 is by no means just to say that old age is entirely 
 dependent on circumstances and chance, for though 
 this may be the case to a certain extent in outward 
 material things, it is very much less even in these 
 than is commonly supposed ; the desires, at least, of 
 an old man who has well ordered his life, seldom 
 exceed the powers which age has left him for their 
 gratification. On the other side, real independence, 
 and an independence productive of still greater hap- 
 piness, gains vastly by this means. Want of patience 
 
134 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 and resignation are the things which make us doubly 
 sensible of our sorrows, and increase the burden of 
 our griefs. Old age affords an especial cure for both 
 these evils, supposing, that is, it has no deeply-rooted 
 perverse dispositions, which would poison any period 
 of life. But the greatest gain which springs from this 
 spiritual freedom, from this freedom from passion, 
 this long-suffering, serene, and time-softened disposi- 
 tion, is, that reflection is thereby purer, stronger, 
 better sustained; that the intellectual horizon be- 
 comes clearer; and that the soul, occupying itself 
 with every kind of knowledge, and every kind of 
 truth, has no other desire. A contemplative inquiring 
 life is the highest state of existence in this world, and 
 can only be enjoyed perfectly in age. In early life 
 the clamor of the world and even our duties distract 
 our thoughts. But it would be an error to suppose 
 that this pleasure could be enjoyed without a deep 
 and extensive knowledge of human life. For these 
 supply reflection with its food, with a wide and mani- 
 fold series of images. Nevertheless the most needful, 
 holy, and cheering truths are frequently better under- 
 stood, more deeply fathomed, by plain, simple minds, 
 than by those which have traversed wide fields of 
 knowledge. These truths have, moreover, the pecu- 
 liarity that, although they give no trouble in their 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 135 
 
 discovery, arising, as it were, spontaneously in the 
 mind, they ever offer something new, because they 
 are actually endless and inexhaustible. These truths 
 connect themselves with every age, but most natu- 
 rally with that which stands nearest to the final 
 solution of all those infinite riddles which involve 
 these truths. A certain kind of vitality is diminished 
 in our later years, but it is only an outward, falsely 
 prized life. The much more beneficial, more beautiful, 
 and nobler kind, that which unfolds itself in fruitful 
 purity, is peculiar to old age. I know, dear Charlotte, 
 that your sentiments are the same as mine in these 
 matters, and that my observations respecting them 
 will not be altogether unpleasant. Such matters, 
 indeed, are well fitted for such a correspondence, 
 which, forgetful of the narrow limits of worldly 
 matters, ever seeks to be the unreserved communi- 
 cation of two mutually sympathizing minds. Please 
 to direct to Ottmachau, according to the new direction 
 which I have given you. With the most unfeigned 
 affection, I remain yours, H. 
 
136 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 / 
 
 LETTER XXXV. 
 
 Tegel, September ia, 1824. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, 
 
 I returned to this place some few days since, and 
 have made it one of my first cares to write to 
 you. You will already, I suppose, have received my 
 last letter from Ottmachau. The autumn promises 
 to be very fine, and I am doubly pleased at being 
 here, as I can here enjoy so well the last pleasant 
 months of the year, the phenomena which attend 
 its departure, always more gratifying to me than 
 those which beautify its entrance. When we look 
 back on the many things which we have done, the 
 time which we have spent, we can look forward with 
 more security, because we feel that there is now less 
 room for error and misfortune. A moment may bring 
 misfortune and disappointment to the greatest ; and 
 so much in life, in its good as well as in its ill, is 
 nothing but disappointment, that we may well be 
 glad to reach its calmer moments. I am especially 
 free from care for myself, not because I think myself 
 less exposed to misfortune than other men, or fear 
 none of the chances of the world, but because from 
 early youth I have diligently taught myself to be 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 137 
 
 prepared for every change of fortune. It is impos- 
 sible to resist the idea that life is a vast immense of 
 waters, through whose contending currents we must 
 guide our trembling bark, and it is most natural that 
 we should rejoice when a large portion of the journey 
 has been accomplished. This view of life as a whole, 
 presenting a great work to be accomplished, has ever 
 appeared to me a mighty aid towards meeting death 
 with serenity. 
 
 But if a man looks only at the separate passages 
 of life, uniting all the good together, how sad must 
 be the rest of the prospect, how truly calamitous 
 must every misfortune appear! 
 
 Autumn already has begun to compensate Nature 
 for the loss of the fresh green of her foliage, with 
 her thousand varied hues ; and for the observation 
 of this, as well as of all the other changes of wooded 
 landscape, the situation of my house in the midst 
 of innumerable noble trees is well fitted. Right 
 before my threshold scions of the forest wave their 
 green fan-like boughs ; they form long avenues across 
 the fields, and in solitary beauty people the gardens 
 and vineyards ; in the parks they stand together in 
 many a dark and solemn grove ; they are a girdle 
 about the lake, and a crown to its hundred islands. 
 Great is my love for trees, and never, could I have 
 
138 
 
 H I 'M B L I) T ' \ L E TTERS. 
 
 my wish, should one be destroyed or transplanted. 
 It is a sad thing to tear a poor tree from its fellows 
 with whom it has passed so many years, to tear it 
 away to perish, or, at least, to pine amongst strange 
 scenes. The affectionate nature of trees is manifest : 
 how firmly they hold to their native soil ! I know 
 nothing in nature more symbolical of the love of 
 home, of the deeply-rooted longings of a human 
 being's heart. However wide may be his wander- 
 ings, his heart is bound to one little spot, where 
 sometimes, and this is frequently the case with 
 women, he finds both his cradle and his grave ; to 
 that little spot, his first home, to which, if his duties 
 draw him away, he frequently returns, he ever gives, 
 should this be impossible, his best thoughts and 
 wishes. 
 
 I am very glad to find that your garden, if nothing 
 else, makes you enjoy a country residence, and fully 
 sympathize in the pleasure which you take in your 
 flowers. The approach of winter and autumn is far 
 from pleasant to me, and disturbs many of my occu- 
 pations ; but to compensate this annoyance, my eyes 
 have become much stronger by the use of the medi- 
 cines which have been recommended me, although 
 they still require much care, and I dare not expose 
 them to the light. At the same time the days are be- 
 
11 ( TMB GLUT'S LE TTERS. 
 
 139 
 
 coming shorter, and when we reckon how much time 
 is occupied with the common circumstances of domes- 
 tic life, by visits and interruptions of various kinds, 
 not to mention actual business, little will be found to 
 remain. The longer I devote myself to study and 
 contemplation, the greater inclination and love I have 
 for such occupations of my time. The things of the 
 world have no longer any interest for me, but pass 
 by me as momentary visions, with which neither my 
 mind nor spirit has any connection. The circle of 
 my acquaintance becomes narrower every day ; my 
 dearest friends are dead, and I have now lost such 
 society as I think a man may ever turn to good ac- 
 count as one of the best gifts of fortune, but should 
 never seek as a necessary. But contemplation is an 
 immeasurable field of knowledge and discovery, which 
 ever offers new charms, an amusement and occupa- 
 tion for every hour, and which makes us wish them 
 magnified a thousand fold. I have often passed whole 
 days entirely occupied with my own thoughts. Nat- 
 ural science has never attracted me. I am wanting 
 in the faculty for observing outward objects. My 
 mind busies itself but little with the outward world 
 of the present, and from its infancy has devoted the 
 largest portion of its attention to the study of an- 
 tiquity. The nearer humanity is to its origin, the 
 
140 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 more noble are its simple manliness, the deeper and 
 worthier its sentiments and ideas, and the language 
 of their expression. To arrive, indeed, at a full and 
 perfect view of a science such as this, we must under- 
 take long, laborious, and, frequently, mechanical 
 studies ; but even these have their own peculiar 
 charm, and are easily vanquished by habits of patient 
 industry. Amongst the most glorious, the purest, 
 and most beautiful of the voices of hoar antiquity, 
 are the books of the Old Testament, and we can 
 never be sufficiently thankful to our mother-tongue 
 that it interprets them to our ears with so little loss 
 of their original grandeur. I have often taken plea- 
 sure in considering whether it would be possible to 
 compose any other book so sublime, so various, so 
 treasure-full, as the Old and Xew Testaments. If 
 these were the only books in the possession of hu- 
 manity, it would find in them a complete course of 
 religion, history, poetry, and philosophy, an accord 
 to every feeling of its soul. Unfortunately, they 
 are so little understood, as to be inaccessible to ordi- 
 nary minds ; and, although they send none away 
 unsatisfied, they open the vastness of their treasures 
 to those only who come with spirits well prepared. 
 
 During the remainder of this and the greater part 
 of next month T shall remain here, and then propose 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 141 
 
 spending a few weeks at Berlin ; to which place you 
 may securely direct your letters. In November and 
 December I shall probably make a tour, as I did last 
 autumn, and conclude it with a residence of six or 
 seven days at Burgörner ; but I have not quite de- 
 cided respecting this, and shall certainly write to 
 you again before I set out on my journey. It is 
 always most agreeable to me to remain in the same 
 place, and seeking another is in me as putting 
 weights in an opposite scale. Consequently, travel- 
 ling and change of residence on my part is generally 
 a matter of necessity, rarely of pleasure. Farewell, 
 dear Charlotte ! With the utmost affection I re- 
 main yours, H. 
 
 our letter of the 26th ultimo pleased me as all 
 
 -L your other letters. It is very kind of you to 
 esteem so highly the delight which I ever have, and 
 ever shall take, in your biography, and which you 
 rightly attribute to the pleasure which I receive not 
 so much from the descriptions which you give of 
 outward circumstances and events, as from your 
 
 LETTER XXXVI. 
 
 Burgörner, November 13, 1824. 
 
142 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 finely drawn delineations of your own soul. I am 
 charmed with both. Although that which occurred 
 in the long past no longer influences the objects of 
 our present interest, yet we read everything con- 
 nected with this time with a true feeling of its pre- 
 sence. It is as though the particular feelings of joy 
 and sorrow, which once were active, were active 
 still, and to a certain extent it is so. However 
 great the power of time is, there are certain senti- 
 ments which, though no longer immediately in har- 
 mony with the feelings, never entirely vanish from 
 the mind. In this respect there is somewhat in our 
 actual being which may rightly be regarded eternal. 
 I do not mean merely the fixedness of feelings which 
 remain unaltered. 
 
 In these there is always a distinction between the 
 past and the present in the manner in which they 
 remain unaltered. But the whole of the feelings 
 which have ever affected the soul form a so closely 
 interwoven web, that the joy and pain of days 
 which have long since gone by still send a tremor 
 through the souls which they have ceased directly 
 to influence. As it is with my own feelings it is 
 with my sympathies for others. In the develop- 
 ment of your former ideas, of the sentiments of 
 your youth and childhood, times now so far away, 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 143 
 
 you have succeeded uncommonly well, and your 
 narrations bring the objects of which they speak not 
 merely before my mental vision in their outward 
 forms, but breathing and glowing as though they 
 really lived. Nothing is defective, everything is 
 true to nature ; which proves that you possess, to 
 an unusual degree, that inner life, in which, indeed, 
 women are generally superior to men, as well from 
 their nature as from the difference of their occupa- 
 tions, which are by far the more suitable for revery 
 and contemplation ; but which are united in very 
 few with such clearness of thought and magnificent 
 self-consciousness as they are in you. Hence their 
 intellect in its activity is often dark and confused, 
 since contemplation in the first instance is a property 
 of the outward senses. Your mind, however, as all 
 your descriptions, so defined and pointed, prove, can 
 take up its position in every period of time to which 
 your memory is sufficiently awake to lead it. Hence 
 you need but to write the suggestions of your own 
 soul, and have no occasion to fill up your sketches 
 from your imagination, or to leave them unfinished : 
 they are already perfect. The great practice which, 
 beyond most women, you have had in writing, has 
 aided you in this ; and all your writings are vivid 
 pictures of the world of your soul and your life in 
 
144 
 
 HUMBOLDTS LETTERS. 
 
 the world, the latter, however, only so far as it illus- 
 trates and explains the former. 
 
 You speak as though you feared blame for this 
 portion of your biography : for what reason I can- 
 not understand. Assure yourself that it contains 
 nothing which could possibly excite my displeasure. 
 The descriptions which you give of your now so 
 long deceased parents, and your opinions on their 
 characters, part of which you have already written, 
 could not be interpreted unfavorably. When we 
 undertake to describe a character, let us perform our 
 part with perfect sincerity ; by softening down every 
 shade we may make the light of the picture the 
 greater, but shall do so at the expense as well of 
 expressiveness as of truth. To delineate with an 
 impartial hand those to whom we owe love, rever- 
 ence, and gratitude, throws no slur upon the life of 
 those feelings in our breasts. They spring from the 
 original bond between parents and children, or those 
 whom a similarity of souls has united together, from 
 that union which ever remains as sincere, which is 
 ever as highly prized and loved, however slight or 
 extensive may be the knowledge which each has of 
 the others' faults. The love which the child owes 
 to the parent, the payment of which is so delightful 
 to an amiable and gentle disposition, exists more 
 
HUM /J OL DT' S LET TER S. 
 
 145 
 
 frequently in the inner than the outward being, and 
 without, perhaps, having been once positively ex- 
 pressed, gleams from his looks, his habits, and his 
 whole character. It is one of the most beautiful 
 laws of humanity, which so easily errs, which pre- 
 serves its purity through life with so much difficulty, 
 that we may love and ever reverence those whose 
 weakness we know, or whom, at least, we know to 
 be subject to error. If a man be conscious that he 
 is free from that cold cavilling disposition which, 
 before it will either love or reverence, must weigh 
 or measure with scrupulous eye every little fault, — 
 if a man be sure that his friendship is warm and 
 sincere, he need never hesitate to consider and to 
 analyze the character of his friends. For my own 
 part, I have very little inclination either to blame or 
 praise the actions of others. I consider things his- 
 torically, as they form themselves inwardly and out- % 
 wardly ; but in which case one can seldom rightly 
 determine whence they arose, and it is as difficult to 
 praise or blame them with justice. Thus it is, and 
 thus it has been. Moral worth is exclusively con- 
 nected with the sentiment which accompanies the 
 conduct, and of this conscience is the sole judge. 
 
 Every man is his own judge, and when anything 
 in his conduct deserves blame, his own reproofs are 
 
146 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 bitterer than those of any other could be. In like 
 manner also is it with praise, which should always 
 rather be received as a free-will offering than as a 
 deserved reward. Of course we can never praise 
 ourselves as others praise us, but that is because it 
 is pleasanter to give as well as to receive praise 
 than blame, and consequently more easy of ex- 
 pression, for blame is taciturn in its excessive bitter- 
 ness. Praise is not worth much, and I always take 
 care when I am its object to receive it as a pleasant 
 sensation, as metal which has not been assayed, and, 
 if I do not use caution, as very probably a source 
 of injury. 
 
 Farewell ! With unchanging affection I remain 
 yours, H. 
 
 In the past are large materials for joy and sorrow, 
 contentment and repentance, according as a man in 
 his struggles with fate has resisted manfully, or sub- 
 mitted with cowardice. What has there been found 
 of pain is ineffaceable as a scar; and what of joy, as 
 immovable as a soul-rooted thought; and, besides, 
 it is perfectly free from any anxiety for the future. 
 
 Submission and contentment are the best buck- 
 lers against the sorrows of life. He who cannot 
 bear with firmness want and suffering, can never be 
 
7/ UM BOLD T'S L E TT ARS. 
 
 free from want and suffering, or, at least, is a con- 
 tinual victim to unpleasant thoughts and feelings. 
 
 A man has perfect power over himself with re- 
 spect to his moral being, and he should not be too 
 anxious to possess it over others. 
 
 It is the noblest disposition, and that which pro- 
 duces most serenity and repose to the soul, to avoid 
 rather than to strive against men and fate, to receive 
 thankfully that which they give, but never to de- 
 **' sire ; or at least never to be disheartened at the loss 
 of that which they deny. 
 
 The subject of inspiration and presentiment is very 
 curious. Sometimes they prove right, and sometimes 
 wrong ; but it is no reason why we should regard it 
 as a matter of mere chance, when they prove to 
 have been true prophets of the future. It is with 
 these as with everything which affects our inward 
 consciousness. This consciousness may deceive a 
 man ; he may regard that as an omen which is none ; 
 and, on the other hand, he may mistake the meaning 
 of those which are. Objective security is not possi- 
 ble in this case. Their true recognition bears with 
 it no outward signs. There are constantly, though 
 often but weak, indications of such things ; they 
 may be seated in the soul itself, or may be created 
 
 through the disturbing influence of hope or fear. In 
 10 
 
148 
 
 // UM HOL Ü T 'S LETTERS. 
 
 the former case they may be trusted, in the latter 
 not. The wisest course is by no means to invite 
 them ; to think when they appear of the possibility 
 of their falsehood ; and when they are unfavorable 
 to be convinced of their truth. 
 
 Yours, H. 
 
 LETT E R X X X V fl . 
 
 Berlin, December, 1824. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, 
 
 1 returned to this place a few days since, and 
 make it one of my first occupations to renew 
 the old, sweet custom of our correspondence, which 
 1 know is as pleasing to you as to myself. The end 
 of the year draws nigh, and this season always 
 appears to me a fitting time for the closer connecting 
 and renewal of the bonds of friendly union. When 
 I look back upon the past year I am filled with a 
 lively and sincere thankfulness for the kind sym- 
 pathy which you have bestowed upon me, which, as 
 I need scarcely say, together with your confidence 
 and affection, I treasure up in the inmost recesses 
 of my soul. I return it most heartily, offering, as I 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 149 
 
 have so frequently offered, my most ready sympathy 
 and assistance in the furtherance of all things con- 
 nected with your welfare. Pardon these strong ex- 
 pressions, which, I must own, are unnecessary, and 
 have never been called forth by the expression of 
 any doubt on your part ; but I always wish to speak 
 as I feel, as I should otherwise, I well know, be 
 frequently misunderstood. I am well aware that 
 my mode of declaring my good wishes is unusual, 
 but as I am I must be ; and, as far as this matter is 
 concerned, know not how to change my character 
 even if I would. I make these observations, be- 
 cause I feel that I might easily be misunderstood, 
 and because, moreover, I was very anxious to de- 
 clare to you at this season that you shall never 
 have just reason to doubt the sincerity of my affec- 
 tion ; that the impression which you made upon me 
 in youth shall never depart, and that the feelings of 
 love, confidence, and gratitude, which you have ex- 
 pressed for me, have formed one of the chief joys 
 of my life. Farewell, dear Charlotte ! May happy 
 hopes for the coming year be yours, and may bless- 
 ings light upon you ! 
 
 Yours, H. 
 
150 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 LETTER XXXVIII. 
 
 Berlin, January 31, 1825. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, 
 
 to\5 will be somewhat surprised to receive a letter 
 
 -L from me before the usual time. The reason is 
 that I am ill, and being prevented from any serious 
 occupations by a rather severe cold and toothache, 
 I seek consolation and amusement in writing to you. 
 I am very patient under sickness, and cannot prevail 
 upon myself to call illness an evil, which, you will 
 say, I suppose, only proves that I have never, or 
 very seldom, been seriously ill. And in this you 
 would be right, but you must allow that many 
 people make a great clamor about very little annoy- 
 ances. When sickness approaches me it ever comes 
 attended with a certain species of rest and serenity 
 to the soul ; not that I am without these qualities in 
 good health, but that in a state of good health a 
 man is constantly in an atmosphere of zeal and 
 energy, which fall away in the time of sickness. 
 For the rest be not uneasy respecting my indispo- 
 sition, it is of no importance, and will most pro- 
 bably leave me in a few days. It is the conse- 
 quence of a cold wind, to which I could not avoid 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 151 
 
 exposing myself, and the ill effects of which I felt 
 immediately. 
 
 My eyes, of which you are kind enough to think 
 so much, are much better, and, indeed, have been 
 quite well this winter, but I still write with caution, 
 and use, as you see, the Roman letters. Let me 
 now, as I very often do to myself, express the plea- 
 sure with which I first read your last letter, and 
 read it over and over again, pondering on every 
 word. The great charm of your writings is that 
 natural power which you possess of expressing your 
 feelings in a simple and truthful manner, with the 
 right words. It was my great wish, when we first 
 renewed our acquaintance, that you might become 
 conscious of my hearty sympathy for you, and of 
 the unchangeableness of my affection. This is now, 
 I hope, the case. And it is as well to express this 
 feeling now, at this season of the year's departure, 
 when all our sentiments for those whom we love 
 spring up into a new life. I think much of the 
 epochs of time in my every-day life, and the begin- 
 ning of a new period is, I confess, with me no ordi- 
 nary season. Times and seasons are my masters, 
 and conform the flow of my life to their course. 
 
 We should ever remember in this human life, that 
 the rush of the tide of time must have an end, for 
 
152 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 if we once become perfectly conscious of this truth, 
 we shall become perfectly indifferent to pain and 
 pleasure, good fortune and bad fortune. What are 
 good and bad fortune, pain and pleasure, but feathers 
 in the wing of Time, which he sheds and renews 
 every instant of his flight ? What is left of happi- 
 ness after the departure of its season, and where 
 rests the sting of misery after its night of bitter- 
 ness ? There is a ripening power in this progres- 
 sion, which is of more effect and more beneficial as 
 we reverence and obey it more strictly, regard it as 
 the greatest of finite things, the expression of all 
 finite things, and husband carefully the riches which 
 it contains. 
 
 I respect very highly your activity ; it does you 
 much honor, and is rewarded by the independence 
 which you again possess after such great misfortunes. 
 Everything which you tell me of your occupations, 
 interests me very much. 
 
 I love above all things the laboriousness of women, 
 and the labors to which they attach themselves direct, 
 and invite, and permit them to live a life of feelings 
 and ideas. To this I attribute the deep, beautiful, 
 earnest disposition which most women enjoy, in so 
 far superior a degree to most men, who may have 
 even enjoyed a far superior education. On women 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 153 
 
 fall domestic anxieties and domestic sorrows, and 
 their souls, dwelling in greater seclusion, holding- 
 more frequent and earnest communion with them- 
 selves than the souls of men, are more susceptible 
 of outward influences. Alas ! how easily may their 
 position become one of excessive pain. 
 
 It is of infinite importance to a man that he should 
 accustom himself to continual reflection on himself. 
 We may say with equal truth that a man is never 
 ignorant of himself, and never rightly knows himself. 
 He can know no one so intimately, in no one trace 
 so exactly the secret connection between his thoughts 
 and his will, the source of his inclinations and reso- 
 lutions, as in himself. On the other hand, whatever 
 may be his inclinations, he can never judge himself 
 impartially. In this point he is defective, and nothing, 
 therefore, pleases me more, than that my friends and 
 acquaintance should tell me of my failings most un- 
 reservedly, for I know that their judgments, unless 
 intentionally perverted, must be founded in reason. 
 This is the last day of the month, and the further 
 portion of your biography which you had promised 
 me, and which I had so earnestly hoped to receive, 
 has not yet arrived, and cannot now before the end 
 of the month. You have, I suppose, missed the post, 
 or that may be delayed by the state of the roads at 
 
154 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 this season of the year. However it may be, I hope 
 to receive it soon. Have I written to you later than 
 the 12th ? I think I must have written this month. 
 Write to me, in any case, by return of post, as well 
 as on the 15th. Farewell! Do not, I repeat, allow 
 my indisposition to cause you any annoyance. With 
 entire and unchanging affection, I remain yours, 
 
 H. 
 
 LETTER XXXIX. 
 
 Berlin, February 8, 1825. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, 
 
 I have received the further portion of your biog- 
 raphy, and the long letter which accompanied 
 it ; and intended to write to you to-day as usual, but 
 a visit has taken up my time until now, when there 
 is but a quarter of an hour to the post. But I send 
 you a line partly to assure you of my recovery, and 
 partly because you express so earnest a wish for a 
 let tor. I am very grieved to find that my last letter 
 has caused you uneasiness. It is, indeed, a sorrowful 
 thing to me to have caused you sorrow. But I 
 solemnly assure you that no one can be less guilty 
 of wilfully causing you any pain than I ; and I had 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 155 
 
 not the most distant idea, that what I expressed with 
 the most perfect freedom, trusting to our high and 
 perfect confidence, could have been so, forgive the 
 expression, misinterpreted. In all your letters you 
 had imparted to me your feelings so unreservedly, 
 had besought me so continually to direct and instruct 
 you. Had I thought the words could displease you, 
 I should still have depended upon your ability to 
 determine their meaning more exactly. The sense 
 which they were intended to convey was always 
 loving, sympathizing, and kind. Ought you now to 
 have allowed yourself to be thus troubled ? Would 
 it not have been much better if you had written 
 directly : "I know that you mean well, but I do not 
 like these observations ? " Dear Charlotte, be con- 
 vinced of my unchanged affection ; be sure that I 
 never will, that I never could, wish to cause you any 
 annoyance, and confide in me with a trustful heart. 
 — You will have received a second letter from me 
 before I receive yours, which, as you must think, was 
 written in a most truly loving and friendly spirit, but 
 before I knew that the expressions of the previous 
 one had given you offence, and may therefore, as it 
 is in the same strain, give you still further annoyance, 
 which makes me grieve that I wrote it. Your an- 
 swer, however, must be by this time on its way, and 
 
156 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 when I have received it, I will write more fully to 
 free myself from all your imputations. I must con- 
 clude for the present. Farewell ! Drive every linger- 
 ing sorrow from your heart, and believe that I remain 
 your most sincere friend, H. 
 
 LETTER XL. 
 
 Berlin, Febuary 12, 1825. 
 
 Dearest Charlotte, 
 
 Your letter of the 6th has greatly delighted me, 
 for I find by it that I had not offended you 
 irremediably, but had only incurred your temporary 
 displeasure. I was only distressed and uncertain, 
 and my first care was to quiet you, as is evident 
 from my short letter. I was unresolved what to do. 
 Probably my unwillingness to grieve you might have 
 induced me to yield against my own convictions. 
 All this your affectionate letter has prevented. It 
 has pleased me, I repeat, very much, and I return 
 my hearty thanks. If you always remain so good, 
 so conscious of the true and the right, as you now 
 are, and as I know that you will ever remain, you 
 will fulfil that which I promised myself from the 
 commencement of our correspondence, which has 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 15T 
 
 already given me so much pleasure, and from which, 
 I feel convinced, I shall receive yet more. I will do 
 as you request with respect to your letter before the 
 last ; I will burn it, forget it, never mention it again, 
 and never allow one syllable of it to disturb the 
 pleasure which I take in your other epistles. At 
 the same time I will maintain the tone of mine, and 
 fearlessly and freely express my opinions ; it is natu- 
 ral that I should guide, and that you should follow. 
 But it will always rest with you to allow or to deny 
 me this privilege. 
 
 My health is perfectly re-established, and I pursue 
 my customary occupations, which are peculiarly 
 agreeable to me, as being entirely self-chosen, and 
 connected with general principles. And these pur- 
 suits, which I have followed through the greater part 
 of my life, have been the source of that tendency to 
 earnestness, revery, and contemplation, which is so 
 manifest in my disposition. I have reduced all sur- 
 rounding things and circumstances to a certain sys- 
 tem, which, however, I am so far from declaring to 
 be always right, that I am continually considering 
 every part, anxious to correct any errors which it 
 may contain. But as long as I consider anything to 
 be true, I cannot endure that it should be held to be 
 otherwise in a circle over which I have any influence. 
 
158 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 I can show the cause of every action, and there is, 
 therefore, ever a reason to be given on which we 
 may rest. For nothing is more disagreeable to me 
 than a mere wild interchange of . ideas, a blind and 
 clumsy intercourse. It is not, indeed, possible, to 
 found every action in truth, to take none but the 
 wisest resolutions ; but we can approach to this per- 
 fection, and it is healthful both for body and mind 
 to remain constant to some rule in even unimportant 
 matters, to resist the guidance of every change of 
 whim, and, be the consequences what they may, to 
 adhere firmly to our resolutions. It is by no means 
 true that such a strictness hinders the outpourings 
 of the spirit, and sets narrow bounds to the feelings. 
 The soul moves with increased confidence in a de- 
 termined direction, when it finds that it is subject to 
 a strict and careful guidance ; and the feelings gain 
 greater strength when they proceed from purified and 
 well-tried sentiments. 
 
 Although I have not time at present to speak fully 
 respecting the part of your biography which you last 
 sent me, allow me to assure you of the pleasure which 
 it gave me, and to entreat you to send me the contin- 
 uation at your earliest convenience. I expect a letter 
 from you in a few days, and pray you to dispatch 
 it on the 26th of the month. And now, farewell, 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 159 
 
 dear Charlotte ! Be convinced that you ever possess 
 my heartfelt sympathy. Your health seems to have 
 been improved by the mild winter which we have 
 had; but we should always remember that as we 
 grow older, we shall be more subject to the seasons. 
 With unchanged affection, I remain yours, H. 
 
 LETTER XLI. 
 
 Berlin, March 8, 1825. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, 
 
 I have been more pleased with your description of 
 your domestic life in the year 1186, than I can 
 express. This portion of your youth passed on with- 
 out any occurrences of importance, but your power 
 of delineating the inner life of the soul has given to 
 your narration of it a wonderful charm. There are 
 states of feeling which circumstances make interest- 
 ing, whether they precede, accompany, or arise out 
 of them. Nothing can be more charming than that 
 season of blooming girlhood in which you must have 
 been at this time. I was at that time nineteen years 
 old, and had not left my mother's roof, (my father 
 died of an accident in my twelfth year,) and you 
 
160 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 must, therefore, be about four years younger than I 
 am. This reminds me that I do not know your 
 exact age, which I request you to tell me, for I con- 
 sider it of great importance to know the ages of my 
 friends, especially of such as are females. I have my 
 own thoughts on women's ages, and prefer those 
 somewhat advanced in years to those who are 
 younger. In my opinion, their personal charms 
 continue to unfold to a much later period than is 
 generally supposed, and that their minds are much 
 improved by years, is manifest. I have never cared 
 to form any intimate friendship with a girl or woman 
 much younger than myself, and certainly would not 
 willingly have married such a one, for I am convinced 
 that such marriages are not good. It generally hap- 
 pens in such cases that the men treat their wives as 
 children, and that the difference of their ages destroys 
 that exalted intercourse, that pure and perfect union 
 of thoughts and feelings, which is the chief blessing 
 . resulting from the union of the two sexes. Similarity 
 in all the conditions of their souls is indispensably 
 necessary, and a man can only find great joy in mar- 
 riage when his wife agrees, according to the different 
 nature of her soul, with all his thoughts and feelings, 
 and acknowledges his will as her own. 
 
 To return to the subject of your biography. It 
 
H ( m B L D T ■ S L E 7 T E R S. 
 
 161 
 
 was a peculiar, though in the then undeveloped 
 but developing state of your heart, a natural and 
 amiable trait of your disposition, that you had no 
 longing but for a friend of your own sex. It is very 
 right to distinguish between love and friendship. 
 They share in common that inner life of the soul, 
 wherein two beings having met, each one seems to 
 yield up his own peculiar existence to that of the 
 other, and yet preserves it in a state of greater 
 clearness and purity by the contact. A man needs 
 something without himself, to which he may attach 
 himself ; about which he may rally all the powers 
 of his being. And general as this feeling is, it is the 
 peculiar prerogative of a tender contemplative soul 
 to long for true love and friendship. Very few ten- 
 der, unworldly, and world-fearing dispositions can 
 attach themselves to those which are active and vola- 
 tile : such opposite dispositions can never be truly 
 united. Love and friendship are altogether different 
 in themselves, and different in all their circum- 
 stances. Love has a sensual hue, which is no pre- 
 judice to the purity of the soul, for it can possess the 
 greatest purity within itself, and proceeding from the 
 soul itself, is as clear and unspotted. With young 
 women who have not as yet become sensible, or at 
 least conscious, of love, it takes the form of friendship. 
 
162 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 Their feelings are not sufficiently decided and clear 
 to understand that love which their blooming woman- 
 hood scatters all around. The friendship of one 
 young person for another of the same sex, is the 
 more lively, long-suffering, patient, and self-sacri- 
 ficing : although it leads to the same results in later 
 years, it has a different character in the earlier 
 period of life, when the tinge of sentiment is more 
 glowing, the soul capable of stronger exertion, and 
 when the light appears warmer and brighter. Thus 
 w^as it, surely, between you and your friend. I 
 wish very much that you may continue your auto- 
 biography. I cannot see that you encounter as yet 
 any difficulty ; for the more serious periods, the 
 times of sorrow and grievous trial, are far distant 
 from the present period of your narrative ; and when 
 you reach them, you may be quite convinced, dear 
 Charlotte, that I shall leave it entirely to the deter- 
 mination of your own feelings whether or not you 
 will proceed. For it entirely rests with you to 
 decide whether you can bear to consider the occasions 
 and results of wounds, which, however old they be, 
 must still be very painful. Ever remember that in 
 sparing yourself unnecessary pain you spare me. I 
 fear that you work too hard ; for my sake avoid this. 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 163 
 
 And now, dear Charlotte, farewell ! Think some- 
 times of me, who think so frequently and affection- 
 ately of you. H. 
 
 LETTER XLII. 
 
 Berlin, March 22, 1825. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, 
 
 It is with great pleasure that I sit down to write to 
 you this letter, which I hope, from all my heart, 
 you may receive in good and cheerful health ; 
 though, indeed, this strange weather, which winter 
 has reserved for its conclusion, is not very likely to 
 bring it. I have been, thank God, perfectly well 
 up to this time, and purpose, if not at Easter, at 
 least immediately after, making an excursion to Te- 
 gel. Although we must wait the whole year through 
 for the budding of the trees, yet the expectation 
 is sweet, as all things which are not wrong, because 
 the end of its hope is the source of a remaining good. 
 All the joys brought by the changing seasons have 
 a moral for the feeling and the grateful heart. That 
 regularity which Nature shows in all her works, in 
 her most usual labors, as in the daily rising and 
 setting of the sun, is great and wonderful; — that 
 11 
 
164 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 regularity, 1 say, with which Nature communicates 
 the benefits which she showers down upon mankind, 
 must fill the mind of every thinking man with an 
 exalting and comforting sentiment of tenderness. In 
 our rude north, indeed, we must purchase the step 
 from winter to spring with violent weather, and 
 await in hope the approach of finer days. But the 
 great change which accompanies the variation of the 
 seasons in our country, has its advantages ; for it 
 renders our spirits more earnest and thoughtful when 
 we pass from the darkness of winter into the mild 
 serenity of spring-tide. And we feel this the more 
 strongly, after passing a few years in a southern 
 clime, where the winter is our spring, and there are 
 properly but three seasons, that of great heat or the 
 summer ; and that of the ripening of fruits, or the 
 autumn ; and the remaining months of the year, like 
 as I have said, our spring, when there is no cold or 
 unpleasant weather, when the grass of the fields and 
 meadows is fresh and green, and but few trees are 
 without their foliage. In such countries, then, where 
 there is no change from winter to spring, the inhabit- 
 ants are without those sweet and heavenly emotions 
 which this change never fails to excite in our hearts. 
 It is in nature only, however, that I pay any atten- 
 tion to the variations of the seasons ; unlike most 
 
HUMBOLD T 'S LETTERS. 
 
 165 
 
 men, who alter their mode of living with the altera- 
 tion of the year. I live, a change of residence ex- 
 cepted, in the same manner all the year round, which 
 is the natural consequence of my going out but very 
 little in winter, and continuing my studies almost 
 uninterruptedly ; for, with the exception of the hours 
 from three to five, and from eight to ten, you would 
 always find me, dear Charlotte, busily writing in 
 my study, as the few visits which I make generally 
 take place in the above hours. The farther a man 
 advances in years the more he delights, if his soul 
 has ever been capable of such a delight, in earnest 
 contemplation, which, I may say without exaggera- 
 tion, is now almost the only charm of my life, — a 
 charm which is increased by the nature of my pur- 
 suits, and which a thought, the suggestion of a 
 thought, or even the feeling of a thought ever 
 renews. By this inclination of his mind a man 
 becomes less attractive to others, more bound up in 
 himself : and in this view I am far from unreservedly 
 praising it ; he rejects certain things, has an especial 
 inclination and necessity for making his own views 
 dominant, and easily retreats within himself, some- 
 times when not wishing to do so, if his opinions be 
 not received : he feels, in fact, that he can only pro- 
 ceed on a certain track, and therefore desires that 
 
166 
 
 H UMB OLDT'S LET TER S. 
 
 those who would accompany him, should take pre- 
 cisely the same course. All this may have its 
 inconveniences, but whatever is human must have 
 them, and that contemplative life, which determines 
 its own circle, and never goes beyond that circle, 
 has, and preserves its compensation, in the very fact 
 that it cannot be separated from it. Yes, if he indeed 
 reaches the state with which a well-cultivated and 
 profound mind may properly be contented, a man 
 ought surely out of a principle of duty not to forsake 
 it. For, from this pursuit of ideas, commenced accord- 
 ing to our own resolves and peculiar choice, there 
 always arises somewhat which works far and power- 
 fully, and unless a man be independent in himself, 
 a free application of his active powers is impossible. 
 You will find, dear Charlotte, from my letter of the 
 8th, with what joy and interest I read the new 
 chapter of your biography, which very frequently 
 occupies my thoughts. The comparatively few forced 
 marriages in our days prove, I think, that the world 
 has increased in gentleness and justice. Happiness 
 is now thought more of than outward form and cir- 
 cumstance. And although by this means fallacious 
 and deceptive inclinations may sometimes be acted 
 on, yet on the whole this exercise of mildness and 
 justice, this thought for those for whom the choice 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 167 
 
 is made, is an important advance on former ages. 
 But the worst which can happen in such cases is 
 when, as in the case of your friend, one connection 
 is entered on and another not renounced. For 
 although it be done with the purest feeling of self- 
 sacrifice, and entirely on moral grounds, it is yet an 
 unnatural effort of the mind, and a proceeding which 
 can scarcely hope for that blessing, without which 
 nothing prospers. You do not err in supposing that 
 no such happiness as is hoped for has proceeded from 
 such a second union. The first fascination of love, 
 when the desired union takes place, does not vanish 
 madly, but happily weaves itself into all feelings, 
 and yet is blunted by time. The distance forms 
 images which are never to be realized. 
 
 That inner repose is wanting, without which there 
 can be no happiness. 
 
 Thus much for to-day, dear Charlotte, for I shall 
 soon write again. With the most affectionate sym- 
 pathy, I remain yours, H. 
 
168 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 LETTER XLIII. 
 
 Berlin, April 6, 1825. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, 
 
 It was with very great pleasure that I received 
 your copious letter of the 20th, for which I re- 
 turn you my hearty thanks. I arrived here on 
 Thursday, the 24th, and found, as I had hoped, a 
 letter from you on the table. I gratefully acknow- 
 ledge your punctuality and attention to my wishes. 
 It is very agreeable to me to think that the time 
 when it was necessary for you to make excessive 
 exertions is past, for though your income was in- 
 creased I was very sorry, although I honored you 
 for it, to see how greatly you overtasked your 
 strength. I should like to receive in your next 
 letter a full account of your receipts and disburse- 
 ments ; I wish, for I take a lively and affectionate 
 interest in this matter, to know, and to know par- 
 ticularly, how matters go with you in this respect, 
 how secure your position may be ; and I should be 
 exceedingly rejoiced if I could make any suggestion 
 which would point out to you any means of gaining 
 greater leisure ; such as would be suitable to your 
 character. This may happen in the course of time ; 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 169 
 
 and so agreeable is labor, and so pleasant and bene- 
 ficial also is leisure, and especially for you who so 
 willingly exist in thought and feeling, and, (through 
 sensible and earnest views of nature, by an unusual 
 power of realization, and by your original destina- 
 tion,) can so thoroughly avail yourself of leisure, — 
 a power commonly to be found in women in the 
 highest degree, but never so entirely in men. I 
 have spoken to you without any circumlocution, 
 with that unreserve which you permit, and even 
 demand. I am conscious of feeling for you the most 
 hearty sympathy and affection, and know that what 
 I do is done with right intentions. If you have 
 other views, that does not surprise me, because 
 different positions naturally present different pros- 
 pects. It rather increases iny thankfulness, my re- 
 gard, my innermost esteem for you, that, as is 
 always the case with a woman of fine and noble 
 sentiment, you are ready to submit your views to 
 the direction of him whom you earnestly esteem. I 
 am, therefore, exceedingly pleased that you follow 
 my wishes in this respect, and expressly say that 
 you obey me ; * and I will repeat, without any 
 attempt at concealment, for I always express myself 
 
 * It was not very difficult for me to yield to this fancy of 
 an honored friend. — Note of the Editor. 
 
no 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 to you unreservedly, that, incomprehensible as it 
 may be to you, not only the fact but the very word, 
 and all its attendant circumstances, delight me ex- 
 ceedingly ; and that, not merely the submission of 
 will and obedience, but also the willing expression 
 of these sentiments, exhibits to me a woman's char- 
 acter in its fairest, noblest light, affording, as it does, 
 certain evidence that she possesses sufficient confi- 
 dence in her worth not to fear the loss of any of her 
 dignity by such a subjection. You wish to know 
 where I passed the year 1786, and the following 
 years. I lived in Berlin with my mother in the 
 winter, and with my younger brother, under the 
 care of a tutor, in the summer, when it was our 
 custom to visit Tegel on Sunday. This was my life 
 until the August of 1788, when I went with my 
 brother and the same tutor to Frankfort on the 
 Oder, where there was then a university, at which 
 place we stayed until the Easter of 1789. At that 
 time I went with my tutor, but without my brother, 
 to Göttingen, where our tutor left us, and from that 
 period, my 22d year, I lived alone. In the same 
 year, a time which I love to remember, I saw you 
 in Pyrmont. The companion whom I brought with 
 me was connected with me by no ties but those of 
 chance. 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 1U 
 
 At Easter my brother followed me to Göttingen, 
 and soon after midsummer I went to Paris with the 
 now deceased Campe, who had been my first tutor, 
 and had taught me reading and writing when I was 
 three years old ; we separated at Mayence, and I 
 went on to Switzerland, returned to my mother at 
 the close of the year, took leave of her again in 
 IT 91, and married. Thus passed those years with 
 me, whose dealings with you you have so kindly 
 promised to relate. 
 
 I long since resolved to say a word to you why 
 painting is especially suitable to your disposition. 
 The reason is, that you possess a most singularly 
 beautiful female character. Unless we possess a 
 soul rich in feelings and ideas, and therefore of an 
 exquisite and tender organization, we cannot per- 
 ceive that accord from other souls which sweeps 
 around us, whilst with such a soul we may discover 
 and develope the least perceptible tones. This is a 
 privilege, a talent, a natural gift, but is perfected by 
 early exertions, by self-conquest, by hatred of every- 
 thing ignoble, by pure morality, and simple but 
 earnest piety. In this respect you are especially 
 profound, and unite to the spiritual nature of your 
 soul a high talent for writing and description. Thus 
 I explain to myself the facts which are manifest 
 
172 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 throughout all your letters, and every portion of 
 your autobiography. 
 
 I have been at this place for some few days alone, 
 having left my family during this violent, stormy 
 weather, in town. The storms and rain are, indeed, 
 remarkably heavy, but I am very happy, and shall 
 be more so when I have my wife and children with 
 me again.. In spite of the badness of the weather 
 I walked out both yesterday and to-day, and find 
 that one suffers less from the storms in the woods, 
 about sunset, for they generally subside about this 
 time, and the rain is checked more easily by the 
 tops of the trees. Enough for to-day. Farewell! 
 With unchangeable sympathy and affection, yours, 
 
 strong proofs of that affection which I prize so 
 much ; and will answer it sentence by sentence. 
 
 Tegel, 14. 
 
 H. 
 
 LETTER XLIV. 
 
 1 
 
I 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 173 
 
 You are right in telling me that we did not meet in 
 Pyrmont in 1789, — it was a year earlier, for I went 
 to Göttingen the Easter of the same year. I had 
 no idea that you were betrothed the same year, but 
 thought that it had been much later. With respect 
 to Campe, however, I am not in error. He was 
 tutor, or rather governor, to an elder step-brother of 
 mine, my mother's son by her first marriage. He 
 also taught me reading and writing, and must have 
 left our house about 1770 or 1771, near the time of 
 your birth. No doubt you were very fond of the 
 little books he wrote for children. After he left us, 
 he became a pastor, but soon left his curacy, and 
 entered with Basedow the Philanthropic Institution 
 at Dessau. But his journey to Paris, in which I 
 accompanied him, was in the year 1789, after that 
 we had seen each other. Since that time I never 
 met with him again. I am reminded of this year 
 by another circumstance, which is, that in Jacobi's 
 published correspondence there is a letter from him 
 to Lavater, .to whom he recommended me in 1789, 
 in which year also I made a tour in Switzerland. It 
 is a great pleasure to me to live the past over again. 
 I have scarcely forgotten the least thing which ever 
 befell me, and especially cherish the remembrance of 
 those persons with whom circumstances have con- 
 
If 4 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 nected me. At the time of which I speak, I had a 
 kind of passion for becoming acquainted with re- 
 markable men, for inquiring narrowly into the dis- 
 positions of their minds, for treasuring up the results 
 of these observations. By this means I acquired a 
 knowledge of human nature, which ordinary ex- 
 perience would not have given even at a much later 
 age. All my endeavors were directed to the acqui- 
 sition of this knowledge. I brought the particu- 
 larities of the objects of my study under general 
 divisions, classed them, compared them, studied their 
 physiognomy, and, in short, made of it, as it were, 
 a regular science, which I found of great use in my 
 life in the world. I have learned to view men as 
 they are ; to attribute to all men their real disposi- 
 tions ; and that, I repeat, which in my youth was a 
 simple exercise, in my age I have found a support. 
 I no longer follow this pursuit, for when a man has 
 reached my years, he neither can nor wishes to 
 make these nice observations and distinctions. A 
 man must then freely exhibit his own individuality, 
 must exercise it openly in the case of those with 
 whom he is intimately associated, and be contented 
 to show to others an ordinary civility. 
 
 You express your surprise at the rapid approach 
 of spring this year ; and I share it with you, for I 
 
HUMBOL D T '8 LETTERS. 
 
 175 
 
 have never in my whole life experienced so sudden 
 a change of season. A large old cherry-tree in my 
 garden, which in the evening was quite bare, was 
 covered the next morning with leaves. 
 
 Your sorrowful emotions at this, the period of 
 Nature's resurrection, are common to all who think 
 carefully and deeply, without by any means injuring 
 the pleasure with which they greet her on arising 
 from her long sleep. The sadness of these emotions 
 is the result of their earnestness, for all the earnest 
 emotions of humanity are sad. And very naturally ; 
 for it feels its weakness, the subjection of its being 
 to continual change ; and cannot but feel deep emo- 
 tions, which must express themselves in a sorrowful 
 joy, when it beholds in this development and ex- 
 ertion of Nature for its gratification, an eternal good- 
 ness continually surrounding and watching over the 
 care-beset and danger-beset course of its existence. 
 
 Another and far keener kind of sorrow enters our 
 souls at the birth of so much life, which, if it be 
 not human, is still no less life, for the thought 
 arises, that winter will soon be upon them, and that 
 they must quickly die. The instability of all life is 
 never so manifest to our minds as at the change of 
 the seasons. The sight of- the joyous life of the 
 world of leaves and flowers, so free from any trace 
 
176 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 of winter, is as deeply moving as the sight of a 
 child, who knows not care, — whom care knows not. 
 
 Farewell ! With most sincere, most unchangeable 
 affection, believe me yours, H. 
 
 LETTER XLV. 
 
 Tegel, May 15, 1825. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, 
 
 Much as I love Nature, and hold communion with 
 her, I have been but little in the open air 
 since my residence here. If no one pays me a visit, 
 which in this cold weather is seldom the case, I 
 usually go out of doors from six to eight in the 
 evening, which I prefer to the morning on account 
 of the sunset, which I never, if possible, miss see- 
 ing. I have always liked sunset better than sun- 
 rise ; the cause of which is, most probably, that at 
 evening one's daily labors being ended, the mind at 
 ease is more readily impressed with the beauties of 
 nature. I work all day long in my library, which 
 on the south and west sides looks over the garden 
 to the tall trees beyond. My self-chosen studies 
 have become, as it were, (for my real labors occupy 
 
HUM Ii OL DT 'S LETTERS. 
 
 177 
 
 but little of my time,) a part of my very existence. 
 My books, ideas, contemplations, and the experiences 
 from which they spring, occupy me continually and 
 exclusively, and I can safely say that I owe to 
 them, if not entirely, certainly for the most part, 
 this happy and serene being. The only reason for 
 which I prize my position is that I can give myself 
 up to them. But even when, as was the case 
 during the long years of my public life, I had not 
 the leisure which I now enjoy, I did not feel the 
 less, that I derived the evenness and placidity of 
 my disposition, which is naturally the source of 
 gentleness to our fellow-creatures, from this tend- 
 ency of my mind to alienate itself from the littleness 
 of the world. For when a pure and conscious soul 
 is compelled by circumstances to come into contact 
 with others, its ideas remain as the ravine through 
 which a river flows, and preserves its tranquil purity. 
 This is ever the disposition of pious men, and when 
 it is free from all hypocrisy and self-deception, and 
 founded in truth and humility, is a disposition which 
 leads to unequalled, to perfect repose. If a man 
 once accustoms himself to this life in his own 
 thoughts, he is proof against the stings of sorrow 
 and misfortune. If he be sorrowful, his sorrow will 
 be obedient to the voice of patience and of reason. 
 
178 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 I connect, according to a long formed habit, this 
 reflection with my learned occupations, but I con- 
 tinually seek in that, and in everything, to acquire 
 fresh ideas, which may in their turn unite them- 
 selves with all which derives its worth and charm, 
 either from that which is not visible, or which, being 
 actual, is so in the purest and most scientific sense. 
 In this higher region are the ideas which, as also 
 learned pursuits, appearing only fitted for the few, 
 are very simple and connected with general humanity. 
 I am pleased with the thought that you will receive 
 this letter at Whitsuntide. With unchangeable 
 affection, 
 
 Yours, H. 
 
 LETTER XLVI. 
 
 Berlin, May 21, 1825. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, 
 
 The marriage of the Princess Louisa has compelled 
 me to spend some days in town, but as I am 
 so fond of the country I shall leave Berlin almost 
 immediately, and shall, therefore, be able to send 
 you but a very short letter to-day. I was glad to 
 find my expectation that I should receive a letter 
 
H UMBOL DT'S L ETTERS. 
 
 179 
 
 from you to-day, gratified by yours of the 15th. My 
 grief that you have been, and perhaps still are suffer- 
 ing from low spirits, is accompanied with joy that 
 you write to me so frankly. 
 
 Whitsuntide, above all other festivals, fills the soul 
 with joy, exalts it, turns it away from the contempla- 
 tion of the little concerns of the world to higher and 
 better hopes, and confirms it in worthy resolutions. 
 Festivals, by their origin, and by the circumstances 
 to the commemoration of which they are consecrated, 
 ever give an increase of devotion to earnest activity 
 and worthy efforts. But religious considerations 
 apart, they are pleasant divisions in the year, whose 
 long uniformity would otherwise be wearisome. 
 Life appears longer when it is divided into small 
 portions, and this is not merely a deception of the 
 imagination. But were it indeed only that, we ought 
 not to prize it the less. Simple reality would be very 
 mean without the charm of imagination, which, allow- 
 ing that it brings in its train unreal terrors as well 
 as vain hopes, generally, although in this it may be 
 very deceptive, lends to the objects which it presents 
 before the mind bright and cheerful colors. It gene- 
 rally, also, depends on ourselves to allow or reject its 
 influence ; but not entirely. In earnest dispositions 
 
 it is the chief feeling on which all others more or less 
 12 
 
180 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 depend. If this be light and cheerful, it gives such 
 a tone to the whole mind ; if clouded with cares, it, 
 in like manner, renders the soul heavy and melan- 
 choly. 
 
 The question which you put, " how far our love for 
 another may extend, and remain pleasing to God," 
 is a very important moral question, and one which 
 you have answered very well, but you have still, I 
 think, left some of its points untouched. In the first 
 place nothing can displease God which is done with 
 noble, pure, and moral feelings ; and this must cer- 
 tainly be your opinion likewise. The Godhead has 
 therein the moral knowledge and especially the moral 
 feeling, which, making still nicer distinctions, rejects 
 that which mere knowledge would not disapprove. 
 If we would go still farther, that there may be un- 
 allowed things, against which morality says nothing, 
 there would appear to me in that either an excess or 
 a deficiency in fineness of moral feeling. I hold that 
 nothing is displeasing to God which is consistent 
 with pure moral feeling. But man can only judge 
 respecting human matters. For my own part I 
 cannot conceive that a man need fear loving any 
 created being more than God. God will be loved 
 by us in his creatures according as we feel and act 
 towards them. An idolatrous love is an expression 
 
H UM Ii OLD T 'S LE T TUBS. 
 
 181 
 
 which answers to no actual idea. No sensible man 
 can compare in any way the highest being with one 
 of his own weak and perishable fellow-creatures. 
 Such a comparison could only result from the most 
 unbridled passion, a passion which could not submit 
 unscathed to the test of free, purified, and spotless 
 feeling. Everything returns to this point. But you 
 must understand that by moral feeling I mean one 
 which is thoroughly imbued with the most sincere 
 and genuine piety. For there might be a morality 
 perfectly distinct from religion. And, moreover, I 
 do not mean any obscure feeling. It must be a 
 feeling founded on knowledge and piety, and to 
 distinguish it a little further, we may observe that, 
 in a song, music which is felt ever adds something 
 to the dry meaning of the words. An affection 
 favored by such feelings needs not anxiously pre- 
 scribe to itself limits. To whatsoever degree it may 
 reach, it still remains a pure and pious disposition 
 which will never confuse the Creator with the crea- 
 ture, and will never prove unfaithful to the former. 
 That the Deity can every day remove the object of 
 such an inclination is indeed certain ; and if the 
 inclination be what I have described it, such a cir- 
 cumstance will profoundly afflict him who is inspired 
 by this sentiment, but it will not rob him of his 
 
182 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 self-possession. The disposition itself could not be 
 associated with a moral and religious feeling, if it did 
 not imply that, in untoward circumstances, it would 
 be attended with a humble resignation to the will 
 of Providence. All the rest seems to explain itself. 
 
 To occupy myself with the past has ever been my 
 favorite pursuit. That which in times gone by has 
 influenced the soul, and has been really considered 
 and felt by it, has a great influence also on its present 
 thoughts, feeMngs, and desires. 
 
 The intimate connection of all the phases of a 
 man's life is one of the most incomprehensible and 
 wonderful parts of his nature. It cannot for a mo- 
 ment be supposed that all thoughts and feelings will 
 maintain an equal place in the soul ; but whilst one 
 affects the mind in a more especial manner, the others 
 sound as connected chords. In this manner, then, 
 may all the past circumstances of a man's life be 
 obvious to him as the present, and all his former 
 actions have a much closer connection than is com- 
 monly supposed with his present. 
 
 With that which springs from any deep sentiment 
 no particular design is ever connected ; but we may 
 be described as fanatical and extravagant by cold 
 and tranquil men, because our feelings pass the limits 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 183 
 
 of ordinary experience ; while sentiment, without 
 losing any of its tenderness, may really become 
 stronger. 
 
 thinking that you would rather have an immediate 
 answer to that ; and now that I know its contents, 
 I am doubly pleased that I took this resolution, for 
 I have little doubt that I shall be able to clear up 
 many difficulties, and clearness is always rest, or the 
 source of rest. Let me give you many thanks for 
 your letter which I received yesterday, and for the 
 expressions of love and confidence which it contains, 
 and which I assure you I value as they deserve. 
 You may be convinced that although very far from 
 making the least complaint against you in the inmost 
 recesses of my heart, I thoroughly understand your 
 disposition, and recognize with lively thankfulness 
 your singularly true and firm affection. You may 
 gather from my letters, that I enter into all your 
 
 LETTER XLVII. 
 
 i 
 
184 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 ideas, am anxious to solve your doubts, and to 
 answer your questions ; and if I do not do it out of 
 gratitude, but out of real inclination and interest, 
 that will be to you perhaps a better proof of my 
 thankfulness. I do not as yet, and never can forget, 
 that you have preserved through a long life your first 
 feelings of affection in my behalf, and disclose to me 
 unreservedly your innermost feelings. This, as I 
 have so often said, is a treasure which few men 
 possess. I am sorry to find that you complain of 
 presentiments and low spirits, which, as you rightly 
 suppose, have no effect upon me, and of which you 
 must strive to think in like manner. I ascribe this 
 mournful disposition, w^hich proceeds in part from 
 the state of your bodily health, to your excessive 
 exertions during last winter. We should not forget 
 that one must be brought up, nay even born to them, 
 to endure with impunity such uninterrupted exer- 
 tions. And we well know that neither of these 
 cases can apply to you. You opposed the idea of 
 living at leisure ; your present position was the re- 
 sult of a severe destiny, and you had to endure it 
 at a period of life when the fresh energies of youth 
 had departed. Although I honor exceedingly your 
 perseverance and resolution, it grieves me much that 
 it is so, and that you have not gained a total change 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 185 
 
 of situation, as some recompense for your losses. I 
 cannot, if you only rightly understand me, occasion 
 your low spirits ; you must see from every line of 
 my letters, that you have my hearty sympathy and 
 good wishes ; that I do not wish you altered in any 
 respect ; that it greatly delights me to find you be- 
 coming happier and more cheerful ; that I shall ever 
 have great pleasure in furthering, as far as my circum- 
 stances — I might say my years — permit, your wel- 
 fare ; and that it is very easy for me to disabuse your 
 mind of any contrary suspicion. Never doubt this, 
 I beseech you ! For it would be a peculiarly unhappy 
 circumstance, if you were to create cares for your- 
 self out of nothing, to grieve for imaginary griefs. 
 Nothing, it appears to me, can be clearer than the 
 character of our recollections. Your own feelings 
 you must know best yourself; but for myself I may 
 say, that I have preserved unto this time the feelings 
 and sentiments which were excited by our first meet- 
 ing, casual and temporary as it was ; that it is a great 
 joy to me to have this opportunity of expressing 
 them, and that I find, as must be manifest to you, 
 an inexpressible pleasure in this our mutual inter- 
 course of mental experience. This calm and beautiful 
 friendship, so suitable as it is to my age and inclination, 
 may continue as long as our lives ; there is no reason 
 
186 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 on my side why it should not, and. as far as I can 
 see, none on yours. Be satisfied, as I am convinced 
 you safely may be, that the connection between us 
 must ever be considered as earnest and ingenuous, 
 as it really is. Besides which, you must never for 
 a moment suppose that the obligation is wholly on 
 your side ; for, as I have often observed, I receive 
 great satisfaction from your letters, your natural 
 womanly expressions of submission, and your auto- 
 biography. Believe me : you can give me especial 
 satisfaction by this ; and you have seen that I can 
 express myself to you naturally and unreservedly. 
 If you think differently, I will immediately yield the 
 point, and that without any bitterness, any complaint, 
 with the simple feeling, as I have before said, that 
 two people cannot think altogether alike. Thus 
 lightly should you also, dear Charlotte, treat things 
 which may not be quite in accordance with your 
 wishes. The happiest life has so much shade, that 
 we should take care not to render our existence 
 darker than it really is. Such an error in feeling 
 is not wilful ; but yet one may strive against it. 
 
 This needs self-government, but that, indeed, is 
 necessary to all men. I have now been so explicit, 
 ray dear friend, that I cannot in any way appear to 
 you mysterious or unintelligible. I must correct one 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 187 
 
 passage in your letter, where you say that I need 
 nothing for my happiness but myself, and which 
 shows that you have quite misunderstood me. It 
 is, indeed, in many respects true. But however 
 severely I examine myself, I cannot find anything 
 to blame in this. It is, in fact, the fruit of a long 
 life directed to that end. I live in my feelings, 
 studies, and ideas ; it is by them that I am enabled 
 to depend but little on outward things ; that I learn 
 to direct my thoughts to that which is imperishable ; 
 that I bear up against the misfortunes which have 
 so frequently attacked me. By this sort of inde- 
 pendence alone can a man become free from egotism, 
 for, by having few wants of his own, he can find 
 more leisure to attend to those of others. Every 
 joy is greater as it is not the satisfaction of a want, 
 but a pure and beautiful addition to his being. 
 Everything which we need has the peculiarity of 
 being desired with more pain while absent than 
 enjoyed when present. I feel — experience has 
 taught me this — more sorrow at the loss of a friend 
 than is usual with other men, but bear it more 
 calmly. I do not consider sorrow as altogether 
 opposed to happiness, but have frequently experi- 
 enced the one when in company with the other. 
 This was my meaning by that which you misunder- 
 
188 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 stood, and if you will carefully peruse my letter, 
 you will find that it is there very clearly expressed. 
 I can scarcely believe that it is possible to avoid 
 allowing particular passages to bear a different mean- 
 ing to that which they were intended to convey ; 
 one cannot define everything. If you say that the 
 word inconsequent is not agreeable to your ears, 
 you are thinking, doubtless, of an often misused 
 word. The true consequence is certainly not offensive 
 to you ; you reverence it as much as I do. It is, in 
 fact, but the pure result of well-known principles. 
 Farewell ! Confide in the unchangeableness of my 
 affection ; dismiss from your thoughts every unreal 
 care ; bear calmly those which are real. Remember 
 that by so doing you please me very much. Heartily 
 yours, H. 
 
 LETTER XLVIII. 
 
 Burgörner, August 18, 1825. 
 
 I have been at this place for some days, and re- 
 joice very much that I live in a province, and 
 in a part of the country which is far from any great 
 towns. For I much prefer such places to all others. 
 I have no curiosity to know the news, and do very 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 189 
 
 well without the papers. My occupations proceed 
 in a perfectly uniform manner, and as far as possible 
 in the same direction. I have ever been inclined to 
 engage deeply in one pursuit, and have frequently 
 experienced the advantages and disadvantages of 
 such a course. For that this love for one and the 
 same occupation, that this attachment to one domi- 
 nant idea has a cramping and injurious influence, 
 cannot be denied. Excessive intensity of research 
 has the same influence as a continual distraction of 
 mind : both habits prevent us from observing much, 
 compel us to let much slip by unexamined. There 
 is, indeed, a grand difference between them, for 
 whilst the frivolous mind gains nothing, the deeply 
 thinking soul possesses the one object of its research, 
 frequently a sufficient compensation for the loss of 
 all other knowledge. I feel this inclination to sur- 
 render myself exclusively to one thing, which is, 
 then, for the most part, a single idea, in the highest 
 degree, when I am alone with Nature. I love her 
 infinitely, and the enjoyment of even a simple scene 
 in the open country, not to speak of that which is 
 beautiful, has an inexpressible charm for me. But 
 the impression also which Nature makes always 
 connects itself again with the thoughts which are 
 inwardly occupying me, and changes itself into a 
 
190 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 general sentiment: on the contrary, a number of 
 individual things elude my grasp. I should never 
 have been a good observer of Nature, but should 
 have passed without observation much amongst 
 plants and stones, which at another time I should 
 have cherished. However, I should not willingly 
 allow this my inclination to deep thought to de- 
 crease, and should not merely be unwilling to ex- 
 change it with the opposite extreme, but should also 
 be as discontented with that middle path, so gener- 
 ally considered the golden mean. A man learns, 
 moreover, to know those things the best to which 
 he attaches himself so exclusively, and the longer 
 we consider them the clearer they appear. One 
 cannot, indeed, say that the things of the world, as 
 far as we now see them, exhibit their real nature. 
 One man sees that which another overlooks ; and it 
 is as if the eye, when sharpened by practice, itself 
 evolved the object. The simplest things can occupy 
 him who has such an inclination for a long period, 
 and neither vainly nor uselessly. I especially find 
 it continually to be the case in this persevering 
 observation, if it concern not merely our ideas, but 
 the objects of the world, that that which time has 
 wrought in them, the trace of the past in the pre- 
 sent, nay even the bare anticipation of the future 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 191 
 
 which is opposed to the present, all rise to view. It 
 is in this that its greatest charm consists. For 
 everything which represents the course and unin- 
 terrupted flight of time is inexpressibly attractive to 
 humanity. And this is very natural, for man is 
 himself a creature of time, over which his fate 
 sweeps him as over a restless sea, giving him no 
 certainty for the present, or confidence in the future. 
 But strength against adverse circumstances is the 
 least advantage which we owe to this earnest spirit 
 of inquiry. For you might perhaps reply, that there 
 are very few things which are worthy such a display 
 of power. The much more important of its advan- 
 tages is that good which the spirit gains from this 
 direction of all its energies to one point, this habit 
 of contentment with few objects. For from this 
 disposition must necessarily rise a greater sense of 
 spiritual existence, a warmth of feeling and love 
 with which a man may surround himself, and feel, 
 as it were, alone in the world. An influence is 
 thereby exercised upon the character itself, or rather, 
 since nothing comes from without, this tendency 
 being a property of the character itself, the latter is 
 thus developed more and more, and yielding to the 
 favorable impression, acquires a higher dignity and 
 more permanent beauty. 
 
192 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 For there are ideas with which it has grown up, 
 which it will never resign, which accompany it as 
 continual guides, friends, comforters ; and these ideas 
 are so peculiar to it, that another mind can frequently 
 never, and generally not until after many years 
 have elapsed, understand and comprehend them, the 
 reason of which is, not that they are too high or too 
 perplexed, as is commonly supposed, but that they 
 are so inseparably united with the mind of another. 
 In ideas of this kind I could never sacrifice even 
 the very least without a perfect change of my early 
 convictions. Nothing could compensate for such a 
 renunciation, and whatever the sacrifice made to 
 preserve an idea thus deepened into conviction, it 
 can never be too great. The firmness, however, 
 which this displays is no vain one ; it proceeds from 
 no mere pride of understanding, since, although it 
 is in itself the offspring of the intellect, ardor, senti- 
 ment, and love, will be found peculiarly to exist in a 
 mind which is thus disposed. The whole being is 
 rendered more earnest by this disposition, and, as I 
 have often experienced, remains firmly fixed, in spite 
 of all external commotions, where it has once been 
 really naturalized. It renders those who possess it 
 independent of all outward circumstances, and espe- 
 cially diminishes the necessity of a connection with 
 
H UMB OLD T'S LETTERS. 
 
 193 
 
 outward objects. For the love excited by the simple 
 internal idea supplies their place. But wherever 
 any reality is united with an idea, the effect is 
 doubly lasting and effective. The ideas which ac- 
 company life throughout are naturally those which 
 best prepare him who possesses them to dispense 
 with life, since life is especially valuable only through 
 them. They are, however, firmly associated with 
 the profoundest faculties of the mind and of the soul. 
 I cannot at all comprehend how the peculiar nature 
 of man can ever do without them. It is well to 
 hope, and to expect with confidence, that they will 
 hereafter surround the soul in a clearer, brighter, 
 and more manifold manner. 
 
 I have been rejoiced to find from your letters that 
 you have become calmer and happier, and are will- 
 ing to acknowledge that I am anxious that you 
 should be so. I have certainly only experienced for 
 you the very great affection which I now do, since 
 we renewed our correspondence, but you may be 
 quite sure that I ever remain steadfast in my friend- 
 ships. The principles on which I act are founded 
 neither on caprice nor selfishness. It has very much 
 delighted me to find in you, as in other respects, a 
 full and firm trust in those feelings which are conse- 
 crated by benevolent sympathy. Persevere, dearest 
 
194 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 Charlotte, unceasingly in this course, and you will 
 never find anything to disturb our friendship. 
 
 That you are a determined enemy to whatever is 
 consequential, when it is nothing but self-will, and 
 is only the semblance of a nobler reality, is well 
 deserving of praise. Such pretensions are highly 
 culpable. But we must not always consider that as 
 pretence, of which we do not see the reason, or which 
 rests upon grounds which, if seen, are yet not expli- 
 cable. That would be to fall into another extreme. 
 Still less ought we to call a man consequential 
 because he perseveres in his own opinions, which 
 others may have changed and no longer regard as 
 true. It would be nothing but stubbornness or 
 weakness to refuse to acknowledge before others that 
 we were formerly wrong. If we ourselves feel this, 
 we can have no difficulty in allowing the same to 
 others. I have not the least sympathy with those 
 who think that we ought to be so locked up, once 
 for all, in our principles, notions, and sentiments, and 
 who suppose that they must all necessarily be right 
 because we have held them so long. I rather prefer 
 to put all things continually again to the proof, and 
 I would not for a moment conceal it, if that to 
 which I had formerly most inclined appeared sud- 
 denly to me in another light. I should then not 
 
H ( MBOL D T 'S LE TIER S. 
 
 195 
 
 only lay aside my former opinion, but acknowledge 
 that I had done so without any hesitation. But 
 when a man is so characterized, it is scarcely obvious 
 among others, for he is then entirely devoted to 
 meditation, and the reasons and opinions which he 
 holds attach themselves to that reflection which a 
 man is not disposed to exchange for the thoughts of 
 another, however strong the proofs may be which 
 the latter brings to justify his opinions. You say 
 that during the last week you have contemplated 
 your own being very earnestly, and directed your 
 attention to the very depths of your spirit. You 
 cannot but have derived great benefit from the inves- 
 tigation. Such self-inquiry always bestows on me 
 a feeling of repose, not lightly to be disturbed. One 
 finds either that the condition of the disposition is 
 such, that it is only necessary to preserve it as it 
 is, and that nothing is necessary for our full enjoy- 
 ment but more light and clearness, more ability to 
 unfold its intricacies. Such certainly is the case 
 with you. Or else the inquirer finds much cause for 
 complaint, for discontent : if so, he straightway pro- 
 ceeds to purify his mind of evil, error and weakness, 
 and finds a real enjoyment in the feeling that he is 
 returning to the right way. Farewell ! be calm, and 
 ever confident of my unchanging, unchangeable 
 
 affection. H. 
 13 
 
196 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 LETTER XLIX. 
 
 Burgürner, September 6, 1825. 
 
 I begin my letter at midnight, but as this is Tues- 
 day, it will not go by the post until Friday. It 
 is always my habit, a habit which I cannot entirely 
 praise, to write according to my inclination, and not 
 according to the arrangements of the post. In respect 
 to confidential letters, such as ours, this is not good, for 
 it is naturally very desirable that such letters should 
 come to the hands of those for whom they are intended 
 as soon as possible. But there is no harm in allow- 
 ing letters, which have no connection with the feel- 
 ings, to remain for some days unsent: it may even 
 be advantageous, as it allows of their being altered. 
 
 Your observations respecting the influence of a 
 quicker or slower flow of blood on the disposition, are 
 perfectly correct, and similar to those of others. It 
 is, however, a beautiful peculiarity in the economy of 
 man, a privilege enjoyed by none of the other orders 
 of creation, that he is ever conscious of a mental 
 power over the influences of his senses, however 
 violent they may be. An inner voice tells man 
 that he is free and independent, charges him with 
 his good and bad actions, and from this judgment on 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 197 
 
 himself, which must always be sterner and severer 
 than that of others, one must always banish all cor- 
 poreal influences. There are two distinct dominions, 
 that of freedom, and that of slavery, and we cannot 
 free ourselves by our own unassisted understandings 
 from the war which is continually waged between 
 them. In the world of vision all things are so chained 
 together that if we knew all circumstances, from the 
 least to the most remote, we should be able to prove 
 that we are every moment necessitated so to act as 
 we have acted. Still we have ever the feeling that 
 if we seized upon the wheel, and were willing to free 
 ourselves from those fetters of our condition, we 
 should be able to do so. In this feeling of his free- 
 dom consists the dignity of man. But there is that 
 also by which he passes from another world into this, 
 for whilst nothing earthly can be free, nothing celes- 
 tial can be enchained. This conflict can only be set 
 at rest by allowing the lordship of the whole province 
 of freedom to prevail over the whole province of de- 
 pendence. We cannot understand this in separate 
 and individual objects, but the concatenation of 
 things, from the beginning, leads to effects which 
 show that in the end they must answer to the free 
 determination of the will. 
 
 The state of your bodily health, dear Charlotte, is 
 
198 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 a matter of great consequence with me. Be careful 
 above all things to be composed. This is, I know, 
 easier said than done ; but a man may do much in 
 this respect if he will only observe carefully all that 
 which causes him pain, and it is very probable that 
 he will find by such an inquiry much cause for con- 
 tentment, or even for thankfulness. If the soul can 
 once succeed in banishing all sickness to the body, a 
 great point is gained, and thenceforth corporeal pain 
 not merely becomes supportable, but even brings a 
 certain composure to the soul. I have been twice 
 dangerously ill, but have never suffered from a weak 
 constitution. I have, however, frequently met with 
 men and women who were daily ill, and never hoped 
 to escape their miseries but by death. Of this num- 
 ber was Schiller, who suffered much, and was always 
 confident, as it really came to pass, that death alone 
 would put an end to his miseries. But we may truly 
 say of him that he preserved his mind free from every 
 malady, for at whatever hour one might visit him, he 
 was cheerful and ready for either simply interesting 
 or earnest discourse. He was even accustomed to 
 say that one could work better when suffering from 
 a certain degree of pain, if it were not excessively 
 violent; and I have seen him under the most dis- 
 tressing circumstances composing poems and essays, 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 199 
 
 to which one would certainly not attribute such an 
 origin. 
 
 I can easily comprehend that an agitation of the 
 blood, sorrow and anxiety, joined to great weakness, 
 might produce a weariness of life, but such a feeling 
 should be combated with all the energies of the soul. 
 I will not insist on this as an ordinance of religion, 
 but simply on the grounds that life, even in its utmost 
 extent, is so short, in comparison with eternity, which 
 is wholly veiled to us as regards the nature of our 
 being, that we must take care not to limit it by our 
 wishes, but to allow it to continue as it will, for really 
 the manner in which a man views his fate is more 
 important than what his fate is. It is a saying, that 
 every one creates his own fortunes, and, indeed, we 
 make them good or bad by our reason or our folly. 
 One may, however, so receive his lot as ordained by 
 Providence, and so adapt himself to it, as to find it 
 good, however opposite it may seem. 
 
 Remember me kindly, and be sure that it is ever 
 thus that I remember you. I think of you oftener 
 than you suppose. 
 
 Yours, H. 
 
 If you write to me before the 20th I shall receive 
 your letter here : if later, at Berlin. 
 
200 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 LETTER L. 
 
 Burgürner, September 26, 1825. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, 
 
 I return you my most hearty thanks for your 
 letters of the 4th and 6th. I have perceived, 
 however, with some pain, that you repeat your com- 
 plaints of a weary lack of every pleasant feeling, and 
 beseech me to bear with you as with a sick person. 
 Do not, I entreat you, dear Charlotte, allow such a 
 thought to trouble you for an instant. You need no 
 consideration at my hands, as the tone of your letter 
 is in no way displeasing to me, but as it is a sign 
 that you suffer. Make no apology on this account. 
 
 I had earnestly wished that you might pass the 
 rest of your days in serene contentment. But I can 
 well comprehend how a series of great misfortunes 
 may shake the mind, and am exceedingly delighted 
 with the confidence with which you describe to me 
 your attacks of low spirits. It is my firm belief that 
 we have it very much in our own power to repel, or 
 at least to alleviate the evils of such a disposition. 
 But I am perfectly willing to allow that what is quite 
 possible, or even easy, to one man under certain cir- 
 cumstances, may be almost impossible to another in 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 201 
 
 others. No mention must ever be made of disgusts, 
 but of an upright submission to existing circum- 
 stances. I am however convinced that things will 
 very shortly improve. If you permit me to advise 
 you, take care when you are attacked with low spirits 
 to turn away your thoughts from their inward con- 
 templations to the observance of outward objects ; I 
 do not speak of your usual occupations, but of any 
 others that may suit your taste, for this, as you very 
 rightly observe, is the best protection against the dis- 
 position of which we speak, and which I understand 
 very well from your description of it, as a dry, un- 
 fruitful temper, a misery altogether distinct from any 
 deep, particular sorrow, or generally unhappy position. 
 The latter is the more affecting, the more distressing 
 to the mind, but brings in its train the antidote to its 
 own poison, from which arises a violent but quickly 
 decided contest, most elevating and purifying to the 
 soul. The unfruitful vexation must, on the contrary, 
 find something to act upon it from without, and give 
 it movement and activity, and this is by so much 
 the more difficult as the gloomy feeling itself guards 
 the entrance. 
 
 There are, however, two objects which ever find a 
 ready reception with such dispositions ; love of nature 
 and contemplation. You will here ask, perhaps, what 
 
202 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 I mean by ideas, for you have already said in your 
 letters that I have left you in uncertainty on this 
 point. By ideas I here understood nothing but an 
 earnest occupation with one's inner being, deep con- 
 templation. This contemplation can proceed from 
 and attach itself to everything; but its aim, the 
 point to which it ever tends, is always one and the 
 same, namely, the general end of humanity, and its 
 position in that moment, when everything earthly 
 shall pass away and lose its value, and only that 
 spirit remain which can but be considered human as 
 humanity is regarded in its highest light. The soul 
 traces the events in its own private existence, the 
 occurrences of the world as they pass before it, and 
 its reminiscences, through all their successive devel- 
 opments to their first causes ; investigates their 
 apparent or probable consequences ; and pauses, at 
 length, at the consideration of their real value. 
 When therefore I speak so pointedly of being em- 
 ployed about ideas, of penetrating into their meaning, 
 I intend nothing individual, but the occupation which 
 we have in reflection, the separating of things from 
 their mere appearance, the examination of ourselves 
 and others, and the collecting the sum of all our 
 thoughts, upon that which alone is intrinsically 
 excellent, which cannot perish in perishable man, 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 203 
 
 because it proceeds not from man, and which accord- 
 ing to just measurement, is such, that man should 
 altogether and irrespectively devote himself to its 
 service. I am not speaking of merely scientific pur- 
 suits. For although these may collect and prepare 
 subjects for reflection, may guide and purify it, they 
 cannot affect its final end. True, healthful reflection, 
 needs only the natural powers of the soul. It can 
 attain to any height, since the threads of human fate, 
 to which everything is bound, may be taken up by 
 every man ; and the ideas which are thereby excited 
 exist in every one, in the unlearned as well as in the 
 learned, only in various degrees of clearness and 
 precision. Hence to consecrate ourselves to this 
 species of reflection, we require not so much pro- 
 found powers of intellect, as a mind strengthened 
 and purified by the banishment of all unholy desires, 
 by the rejection of all that is little, by indifference to 
 pleasure and outward fortune, and by self-control. 
 But the employment of the powers of the under- 
 standing has the same beneficial influence on the 
 inner man as the sun on nature. They disperse 
 the clouds from the mind, enlighten and warm the 
 spirit, and gradually bring it to a state of perfect 
 repose. If I am put out of temper by anything, 
 (which seldom happens more than twice or thrice 
 
204 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 a-year,) or am ill, my surest way of getting rid of 
 both evils is by applying to some rather difficult 
 study. By that state which you call in your letter 
 "joylessness," you understand, it appears to me, not 
 so much an absence of all cause for joy as a want of 
 susceptibility to joy. You ask me whether I have 
 ever experienced such a disposition of mind. I have 
 not. Men who have most of their wishes gratified, 
 as is the case, for the most part, with me, frequently 
 lose their relish for pleasure, exchanging it for a 
 feeling of indifference. But this has never been so 
 with me. I can say, on the contrary, with the ut- 
 most sincerity and thankfulness, verified by my daily 
 experience, that in every object in nature I can find 
 something to love, some cause for joy, a love and a 
 joy which, so far from being injured by frequent 
 repetition, ever become the more lively, the more 
 soul-felt. 
 
 I hope in a few days to receive a letter from you, 
 and shall therefore leave my own unsealed for the 
 present. I hope and expect that you will write to 
 me very frequently, confiding to me all your sorrows, 
 for whose alleviation I am so anxious, and which 
 have already lasted too long. 
 
 I have decided on dispatching my letter at once, 
 instead of awaiting yours as I had at first proposed, 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 205 
 
 for I know that my reflections will console you as 
 being a proof of that sympathy with which I regard 
 you so unchangeably. 
 
 Yours, H. 
 
 LETTER LI. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, 
 
 I received your letter of the 20th, just when mine 
 had been posted for you. I write to you, how- 
 ever, at the moment, although it must be very briefly. 
 No matter. I thank you from my heart that you 
 confide in me as openly and freely as I had expected. 
 Yes, my dear friend, I have for many weeks past 
 known all the emotions of your soul ; and I judged 
 wrongly when I thought that in so deep a mind as 
 yours anything could be lost. You explain to me 
 most clearly all the causes of your late distress. 
 You cannot overcome the painful feeling, that you 
 cannot return "the least happiness for the abundance 
 which you receive," as you kindly express it. And 
 you finally grieve that you have deprived yourself 
 of that loftier spirit, which you might have obtained 
 had you resigned yourself unreservedly to my guid- 
 
206 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 ance. You attribute your sufferings, without attempt- 
 ing to justify them, to the excitability of your nervous 
 system, which has been so long and so deeply 
 shaken ; and affectionately acknowledge, as I antici- 
 pated would be the case, that although you could 
 never bring yourself to promise a decided acqui- 
 escence, you never gave up the idea of complying 
 with my wishes. Through all that may have arisen, 
 the deeply sad feelings which have overpowered 
 you, dear, good Charlotte, I have recognized for 
 many weeks past all these emotions of your mind, 
 and may say, with perfect sincerity, that the know- 
 ledge has only increased the earnest respect with 
 which I ever regard you. These emotions are but 
 the natural fruit of a noble womanly disposition. In 
 these consists their value ; and I thank you from my 
 heart that you esteem me so highly as not to conceal 
 from me these secrets of your soul. I have now to 
 prefer my request to you. I repeat what I have so 
 often said, that none of my feelings are changed in 
 respect to you ; that I ever regard you with lively 
 interest, in word and deed. It would be sad, indeed, 
 if you could never regain the trustfulness of your 
 heart. I feel convinced that that must return with 
 your beautiful, happy contentment. Glad indeed 
 should I be to assist you, but you must do your 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 207 
 
 own part, and above all things resist those sad pre- 
 sentiments to which you have given up your mind, 
 generally so pious and trustful, so ready to remember 
 that not only its actions, but its feelings also, are 
 tried by an invisible Judge. 
 
 By attending to, thinking on, and following my 
 wishes and counsel, you will do me a great favor. 
 Farewell ! Pardon the shortness of my letter, for I 
 am on the point of leaving, and wish you to direct 
 your next letter to Berlin. 
 
 Yours, with unchangeable affection, H. 
 
 P. S. You mention an idea, an hypothesis you 
 call it, in your last letter, to which you are very 
 much attached. You know how much interest I 
 take in ideas, and how especially interesting I con- 
 sider yours. I pray you to write as soon as possible 
 all you have to say on that subject. I should like to 
 have, as I have already said so frequently, an exact 
 knowledge of all your ideas, and consider the confi- 
 dence with which you impart them to me as a very 
 great privilege. 
 
208 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 LETTER LII. 
 
 Tegel, October 17, 1825. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, 
 
 \ OON after my return to this place, which was at 
 
 for the contents of which, so entirely answering as 
 they do my expectations, I return you my most 
 cordial thanks. I felt quite certain that you would 
 be so kind as to comply with my request, and will 
 now leave that subject for something else, but must 
 express the pleasure with which I find that your 
 health is improving, and that you have at length 
 consulted a physician. Follow his counsels when 
 not excessively repugnant to you. Sickness of mind, 
 which, however, I am far from attributing to you, 
 disappears of itself, and that very speedily. So clear 
 and vigorous a soul as yours may be easily healed 
 of any infirmity by earnest and vigorous self-manage- 
 ment. God has endowed men with free-will that 
 they may receive or reject the good and the evil 
 according to the suggestions of prudence. 
 
 You have, doubtless, observed the beauty of the 
 stars in the eastern hemisphere during the last days 
 
 the beginning of October, I received your letter, 
 
HUMBOLDT 'ij LETTERS. 
 
 209 
 
 of September and the first of October; three planets 
 and a star of the first magnitude, Mars and Jupiter 
 in the Lion, and Yenus as the morning star near 
 Sirius, being close together. I mention it, that, if 
 you have not already observed it, you may not lose 
 this glorious spectacle, which is most beautiful be- 
 tween three and four in the morning, at which time 
 almost every day my wife and I have arisen to view 
 it, always tearing ourselves away from its contem- 
 plation with difficulty. From my youth I have loved 
 to contemplate the stars. In this, as in most of our 
 other sentiments, my wife and I perfectly agree. It 
 has been my constant habit to devote some portion 
 of time, more or less, every clear night, to the con- 
 templation of the skies, and scarcely has any season 
 been more favorable than this wonderfully clear and 
 beautiful autumn. I cannot say, in respect to the 
 stars, that the view of their infinity, and of the 
 immeasurable space which they occupy, fills me with 
 rapture ; it rather, indeed, perplexes the mind ; and 
 in this view of the numberless and the infinite in 
 space lies much which certainly depends only upon 
 human fancy, and not upon eternal truth. Still less 
 do I consider them in connection with the life here- 
 after. But the simple thought, that they are so far 
 beyond and above all that is earthly ; the feeling, 
 
210 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 that all that is earthly vanishes before them; that 
 individual man, when compared with them in the 
 vastness of space, is so unutterably insignificant; 
 that his fate, his joys and sorrows, upon which he 
 sets such worth, must vanish into nothing when 
 measured by the vastness of these objects; and 
 that, moreover, the stars connect all men and all 
 ages of the earth together, that they have seen all 
 things from the beginning, and will see all things to 
 the end, — all this so affects me that I am lost in 
 silent delight whenever I contemplate the starry 
 heavens. Surely it is a sublime spectacle, when, in 
 the stillness of night, over the whole bright region 
 of heaven, the stars, as a chorus of worlds, march 
 up and down, and in a certain degree divide being 
 into two parts. The one part, that pertaining to 
 the earthly, appears as dumb in the full stillness of 
 the night; while the other ascends in sublimity, 
 beauty, and glory. Again, the starry heavens, re- 
 garded in one point of view, are of great moral in- 
 fluence. Who could love immorality, and love such 
 thoughts and feelings as they excite ? How charm- 
 ing is the simple view-jof this most wonderful of the 
 scenes of Nature ! I have frequently thought that 
 you would be much pleased with the study of 
 astronomy. If you should wish it, I would will- 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 211 
 
 ingly give you some instruction, and point out to 
 
 you the proper books. 
 
 You ask me whether I have been at Burgörner 
 
 alone, or with my family. We have had all our 
 
 children and some other relations with us at Bur- 
 
 görner this summer, so that there has not been much 
 
 vacant room in our rather large house. My daughter, 
 
 however, came from Silesia rather late, and my 
 
 youngest son left rather early, and I have not been 
 
 there always. Once I was absent, having gone to 
 
 fetch my daughter, and at other times I spent some 
 
 days on a couple of my wife's estates. I may well 
 
 say that I enjoy both the family circle and solitude. 
 
 I never wish myself from the first in the second ; 
 
 but when I am alone, I feel my time and myself 
 
 peculiarly my own. But few men can live a happier, 
 
 more cheerful, more serene life with their families 
 
 than I ; every one is contented with me, and I with 
 
 every one. Unanimity ever reigns throughout my 
 
 family, which never suffers any disturbance except 
 
 from sickness. Little, therefore, can be said of this 
 
 portion of my life, for it is marked by few incidents. 
 
 Of sickness, God be praised, we have known but 
 
 little. My wife, indeed, has suffered much at times, 
 
 but has been enabled by the great strength of her 
 
 mind to restrain the outward signs of sickness, and 
 14 
 
212 
 
 H ÜMB Ol V T 'S LETTERS. 
 
 for some time past has been in really good health. 
 My daughter and her husband are staying with us 
 here at present, but my eldest son and his wife have 
 returned to Silesia, to which place my two daughters 
 will soon follow them. So much for my material 
 life. From my habit of saying but little in letters 
 of my outward circumstances has arisen the cause 
 of my neglecting to say whether I were alone or 
 not. Circumstances only interest me as they are 
 the sources of thoughts and feelings. In conversa- 
 tion with my family even, I say but little more than 
 I am obliged respecting my own and others' actions. 
 It has ever appeared to me a sign of poverty of 
 ideas, when a man fills his letters or his conversation 
 with narrations of events or circumstances; and it 
 has never been my opinion that communications of 
 joy and sorrow are necessary to friendship. This is 
 called friendship, and may, perhaps, be friendship, 
 but there is, God be praised, a higher, nobler, and 
 purer species, which needs not such food, because it 
 has a more excellent nourishment. 
 
 You will receive in a few days, dear Charlotte, 
 the engravings which I have so long promised you, 
 and which, with the plans and explanations, will 
 give you a tolerable idea of the character of my most 
 usual residence. They belong to an architectural 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 213 
 
 work, and I could not, until very lately, procure 
 them singly. I have re-perused your last letter, and 
 one passage, which has peculiarly pleased me, I 
 have read very frequently. What truly beautiful, 
 and even exalted ideas, are connected with our 
 tender and long-enduring friendship ! The most 
 striking of its circumstances is that you have pre- 
 served the affection which you felt for me in the 
 days of your youth in your more advanced years. 
 Among so many earthly changes this friendship has 
 been a sign of durability, or, as one might even say, 
 of eternity; or, on the other side, of the firm en- 
 durance of the unchangeable ; of the honor paid to 
 what is truly excellent in the worthy idea of a 
 higher good ; in the casting away of all little con- 
 tracted notions. For that narrow-heartedness, which 
 one so often meets, and wherein he who nourishes 
 it finds his greatest satisfaction, proves the sensuality 
 of the feelings of those who need to place themselves 
 behind such a screen. That love which remains 
 true to its lofty origin is as genial and bright as the 
 sun ; exalting the soul in faith and hope. Our finite 
 and imperfect trust and faith have already obtained 
 for us many benefits ; and it is an exalting and in- 
 spiring hope, that we shall find hereafter in a higher 
 sphere those heavenly gifts which have already 
 
214 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 blessed us so highly in this. Ever be convinced, 
 dear Charlotte, of my unchangeable affection. 
 
 Yours, H. 
 
 LETTER LIII. 
 
 Berlin, October 30, 1825. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, 
 
 I write only a few lines to-day, to accompany the 
 engravings of Tegel, which I send you. The 
 destination of particular rooms is partly shown by 
 the plan. I live in that which is described as the 
 library, and in the cabinets facing the garden. The 
 rest of the ground-floor is occupied with offices. On 
 the first floor is a lofty staircase, as is represented in 
 the print. The dining-room is over the kitchen. On 
 the opposite side of the house, in the round building 
 at the back of the court, is my sleeping-room. The 
 remaining apartments of this story are those of my 
 wife and unmarried daughter, and the parlor. The 
 second story is occupied by my children ; and when 
 there are more at home than it will accommodate, we 
 find room for them on the first floor. 
 
 Farewell ! Yours as ever, H. 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 215 
 
 LETTER LIV. 
 
 Berlin, November 8, 1825. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, 
 
 rou will have received by this time the engravings 
 
 -L which I sent you, and must, I know, have 
 been pleased with them. They are so exact that if 
 you look them over carefully you will be able to 
 form a very good notion of the house. It is a place 
 which I love very much, but at which I have lived 
 very little. I resided there, for instance, only four 
 months last year. I have reasons for making the 
 town my place of residence in the winter, although 
 my wife and I would much prefer the country. And 
 in summer the affairs of my other estates compel, or 
 at least render it very advisable, that I should visit 
 them. Thus it is, that those who are apparently 
 quite free are sometimes slaves. I am attached to 
 Tegel for many reasons, among the chief of which 
 are the antiquities in marble, and copies of antiqui- 
 ties in plaster, which adorn the rooms. A sense of 
 the beauties of sculpture is productive of the purest 
 and noblest enjoyment, and one is very loth to be 
 without the presence of those objects which excite 
 in the mind pleasurable sensations which are unde- 
 
216 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 caying. Charming as is the beauty of the living 
 human frame, it bears no comparison with that of 
 the antique statues. For the enjoyment of this 
 pleasure no extraordinary knowledge is required, 
 nothing, in fact, but an unrepressed sense of the 
 beautiful. The beauty of a work of art is, for the 
 very reason that it is a work of art, much freer from 
 imperfections than nature, and never excites selfish 
 or sensual emotions. We observe it attentively, we 
 wonder at it more and more, but we do not form any 
 connection between it and ourselves. To the beauty 
 of sculpture applies what Goethe has said so finely 
 of the stars : " We never desire the stars, although 
 we take such pleasure in their light." You will 
 remark amongst the statues on the ground-floor the 
 image of a woman without head or arms. This is 
 no longer in that part of the house, but is placed in 
 my library. I have had it a long time, even when 
 I was in Rome. It is one of the most perfect 
 antique statues which exist, and there could scarcely 
 be a finer representation of female beauty. All the 
 figures which are drawn as in the hall are now in 
 my library, except the round vase in the middle. 
 You will, doubtless, have wondered what this is, 
 and certainly will not have guessed rightly. It is 
 an antique marble fountain cup, and the bas-relief 
 
HUM HOL D T 'S LETTERS. 
 
 217 
 
 round it represents a Bacchanalian festival, and even 
 now is dented with the marks of the buckets. 
 Heaven knows by what means it could come into a 
 monastery. The legend says, that it was the foun- 
 tain in which the holy Pope Calixtus suffered mar- 
 tyrdom, and its waters were considered to possess a 
 healing power. However that may be, the Pope 
 wished to sell the vase, and I bought it of him. I 
 had some trouble in obtaining permission to bring it 
 from Rome. But I obtained it at last by means of 
 my friendship with his Holiness. In the hall over 
 my library are three beautiful columns of an extra- 
 ordinarily fine marble, and a Medusa's head in por- 
 phyry, which were given to me by the Pope. The 
 most delicate of my antiques, a little draped figure 
 of a nymph, stands in a niche in the saloon. I 
 trouble you, dear Charlotte, with these details, be- 
 cause they will all help to give you a better idea of 
 the interior of my house. I have no paintings here, 
 such as I possess being at Berlin. 
 
 I have been very glad to find, as I do from your 
 last letter, that you have recovered that calm, trusting 
 tone of mind which is so peculiarly your own. Sedu- 
 lously preserve it, and never again allow yourself to 
 become a prey to vexatious thoughts. I know well 
 that this is easier said than done, and feel that your 
 
218 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 position is at present far from what it should be, but 
 as long as you possess your fair and singular feeling 
 of content, you possess that which must ever exalt 
 and satisfy. You are able to say, moreover, that all 
 the good of your present position is the result of 
 your own exertions, your own unassisted efforts. 
 The decision of character, the talents and activity 
 which must have been developed by these means, 
 are a further reward in themselves, of a perfectly 
 distinct species from the reward of their results. 
 My constant thought, however, is, that your whole 
 being requires another kind of occupation. We 
 should always be careful to recollect that outward 
 circumstances give peculiarities to the mind which 
 may appear totally heterogeneous, but which would, 
 nevertheless, have scarcely been developed without 
 them! I am glad that you have found means to 
 obtain more of that repose of which you stand in so 
 much need. The wants of our inner being are more 
 difficult to bear than those of our material life. 
 
 You wish my opinion on Walter Scott, and ask 
 me to direct you in your reading. It is difficult for 
 me to give you advice on this subject. I read but 
 little German, and such books as I do read are of a 
 kind which would be useless to you : I am therefore 
 but a bad guide for your studies. You remark that, 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 219 
 
 in spite of the fashion, you cannot relish Scott's 
 romances. That the robber, prison, and hostelry 
 scenes, with the terrible creations of his fancy, leave 
 an unpleasant impression on your mind ; that a 
 couple of his romances have not given you a single 
 exalted idea ; and you conclude by prophesying for 
 his novels an existence of no longer duration than 
 the works of Lafontaine. If I cannot altogether 
 agree with you in this, I certainly will not offer a 
 contrary opinion. I have, however, read some of 
 them with my wife in the evening, and have been 
 much pleased with them ; I can especially recommend 
 to you the Astrologer, the Tolbooth of Edinburgh, and 
 Ivanhoe. There is in these romances a most excel- 
 lent truth of coloring, and delicacy in the delineation 
 of character, and they possess the further attraction 
 of containing many historical details, exact represen- 
 tations of the manners and customs of the various 
 periods which they describe. I always like history 
 in the shape of readings, and I often think that, if I 
 should have the misfortune, which people who have 
 used their eyes much frequently have, of losing my 
 sight entirely, or almost entirely, I would have his- 
 tories read aloud to me. Ancient history interests 
 me more than modern, but if you prefer the latter, 
 you will find a crowd of amusing memoirs in the 
 
220 
 
 HLMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 French literature of late years. I have read few of 
 them myself, but have heard that they are, as one 
 would naturally imagine, very interesting. I look 
 forward with great pleasure to the continuation of 
 your biography. Allow me to repeat, dear Charlotte, 
 the hearty assurance of my unvarying affection. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, 
 
 10R the continuation of your biography, which I 
 
 J- have received and read since my last letter, 
 receive my most hearty thanks. It has interested 
 me equally with the preceding portion, and renewed 
 the pleasure which I took in that. The period of 
 which you now treat is the most interesting in a 
 woman's life, and the more so in this case, that it 
 is peculiarly wanting in what are usually called inci- 
 dents. But the upward growth of a human being, 
 the development of his mind and soul, with their 
 various properties and peculiarities, proceeding from, 
 and connected with, each other, are all circumstances 
 
 Yours, 
 
 H. 
 
 LETTER LV. 
 
 Berlin, December I, 1825. 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 221 
 
 which possess for him, who knows how rightly to 
 value and understand them, a greater interest than 
 any of the chances of outward life, which are after 
 all nothing but disturbances. And this train of in- 
 ward circumstances, so to speak, is portrayed so 
 simply and naturally in this portion of your biog- 
 raphy, that it is manifestly the work of a bold and 
 delicate hand. By this I am enabled to see you as 
 you used to be, to become acquainted with your 
 circumstances, and to trace, in a most interesting 
 point of view, days now long since gone by. The 
 delight which I take in your representations of per- 
 sons who are strangers to me, proves the sympathy 
 between us ; and let me repeat my lively and hearty 
 thanks for the great pleasure which I have felt in 
 this perusal of the last portion of your biography 
 which you have sent me. Among the sketches which 
 you have given, was one which particularly pleased 
 me ; I allude to that of your former friend, Henrietta 
 
 L . And all which relates to her, your unobserved 
 
 connection, and your visible life, increases the interest 
 of this narrative, in proportion as the interest which 
 your attachment to her, and as the influence which 
 she exercised upon you, was enduring. It is, how- 
 ever, very delightful to think, that this was not so 
 much an influence of the kind, which a friend who 
 
222 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 is such by nature, or, who has become so in the 
 intercourse of society, exercises ; but one created by 
 the sentiments which you entertained. for the person 
 herself. You have greatly wondered that such an 
 affection and confidence should have sprung up be- 
 tween you two, whose dispositions were so different. 
 It is, however, very clear, that one cause of your love 
 for your friend, and the delight which you took in her 
 company, was the romance attached to a clandestine 
 intimacy, and the efforts which you were forced to 
 make to keep it secret; and another, the influence 
 which your friend's beauty had upon your mind and 
 spirit. But I believe, with you, that its real and 
 chief cause was pure womanly love. The longing 
 for friendship is common to the youth of both sexes; 
 and when it does not meet with fit objects, it melts 
 away into other feelings of a like nature, imparting 
 to them its hue, rather than receiving theirs. The 
 origin of your estimation of a friend, as one of the 
 greatest joys of life, was no doubt your early perusal 
 of Clarissa, which filled your mind with an ideal to 
 be realized by Henrietta. 
 
 It must have been difficult for friendship to connect 
 you two ; for it ever demands unity of character in 
 respect to the main points, and it is almost vain for 
 persons so obviously different as you describe your 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 223 
 
 friend and yourself to have been, to become, or at 
 least to remain, very much attached. And this is a 
 more unusual occurrence when the parties are of 
 equal age, as you were, for then the one feels in her 
 soul a necessity to submit to the other as the superior. 
 Love, however, receives not its impressions so much 
 from the object itself, as from that object clothed in 
 the splendor which is most agreeable to its fancy. 
 What you saw in the features, in the being of your 
 friend, existed, perhaps, in her real disposition, but 
 was modified by you as it came into action, and at 
 length acquired a species of magical power, which 
 was in fact the birth of your own sentiment. There 
 is something peculiarly touching in the delight which 
 the mind experiences in watching the object of its 
 love asleep. But there is much that is characteristic 
 in sleep. How charming is the graceful sleep of 
 infants ; how angelic their slumbers ! How sad 
 and terrible the expression of a conscience-troubled 
 sleeper! Farewell! With the tenderest affection, 
 
 Yours, H. 
 
224 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 LETTER LVI. 
 
 Berlin, December 25, 1825. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, 
 
 \ ince I dispatched my last letter I have received 
 
 U two from you, one dated the 6th, and the other 
 the 20th of this month, for which I heartily thank 
 you. I am glad to find that you are pleased with 
 the engravings of Tegel, but had neither wished nor 
 expected that the mansion should appear to you a 
 stately castle. The old building which, as you will 
 have observed, is less than the modern, was the 
 hunting-lodge of the great elector. It afterwards 
 came into my family. This place, on account of its 
 smallness, and because there is a village of Tegel, in 
 which I have no property, was commonly called little 
 Tegel castle. It is only lately that the people, much 
 against my wishes, have begun to call it a castle. 
 In Silesia, indeed, I have really a large old castle, 
 with its towers and moats ; but that place I call a 
 mansion. This, however, is a very good and con- 
 venient residence, for which I must thank the archi- 
 tect, to whom I left all the arrangements. And one 
 of the chief merits of the house, in my opinion, is, 
 that I had nothing to do with its construction. 
 
HUMBOLDT S LETTERS. 
 
 225 
 
 We have arrived at the close of the year! Of a 
 year which with me has passed happily enough, but 
 too swiftly to allow me to perform much which I had 
 proposed at its commencement. That I ever think 
 of you with the most hearty affection, and especially 
 at the close of the year, you already know. Before 
 all things, I wish that you may be preserved during 
 the next from the ill health which attacks you so 
 frequently, and retain the serenity of your mind. 
 Be assured of my unvarying sympathy, and the 
 continuance of that affection which you value so 
 highly. It is my earnest desire to serve you to the 
 utmost of my ability, and it would give me inexpres- 
 sible pleasure if you would confide in me even more 
 trustfully than you do at present. You will ever find 
 me the same. 
 
 I have complained to you of the swiftness of the 
 flight of time, which troubles me in respect to my 
 occupations, but in every other point of view, is a 
 matter of indifference. I have no aversion to old 
 age, and from my youth I have been able, by the aid 
 of my peculiar disposition, to regard the stroke of 
 death, not merely as an ordinary event, which could 
 not possibly cause sorrow, but even as something 
 joyful. I have long since closed my account with 
 the world. I have no reason for wishing the con- 
 
226 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 tinuance of my life ; I have laid no plans for the 
 future ; I receive fortune's gifts thankfully, but should 
 be very foolish to depend on their continuance. My 
 thoughts and feelings are the circle in which I live, 
 beyond which I need scarcely anything, and which 
 are too peculiarly my own ever to desert me. No 
 one may draw aside the veil which Providence, in its 
 infinite wisdom, has hung before the future. It is 
 only given to the soul to gain a freedom, a clearness 
 of perception of the deep and the exalted, a warmth 
 and purity of feeling, for the riches and beauty of 
 the surrounding world. A single glance at the im- 
 measurable distance of the starry heavens imparts 
 to me a feeling associated with a sense of inward 
 strength, of which he only can form a notion who 
 has himself experienced it ; and thus the close of life, 
 so long as it is free from sickness and pain, which 
 may attack even childhood and youth, appears to me 
 as the fairest and most cheerful period of existence. 
 
 I very much fear that the shortness of the days at 
 this season of the year, renders it necessary that you 
 should double your exertions. At any rate, dear 
 Charlotte, spare your eyes. Do not work late at 
 night, and ever remember that it causes me great 
 uneasiness that you, who are fitted for so different a 
 position, should have to work so hard for your sub- 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 227 
 
 sistence. That you never complain distresses me the 
 more. I wish that you could find leisure to think on 
 your biography, which gives me such real pleasure. 
 You thought when you began your sketches that 
 they would never end, but you have already finished 
 those which relate to the period of your childhood, 
 and if by-and-by you continue the work with dili- 
 gence, it will soon be concluded. 
 
 ****** 
 
 You say that you wish my opinion and views on 
 many important sentiments and ideas. I shall give 
 them with great pleasure. Express without reserve 
 your thoughts and feelings. 
 
 Remember me at the close of the year, and be sure 
 that I ever think of you with unvarying sympathy 
 and affection. 
 
 Yours, H. 
 
 LETTER LVII. 
 
 Berlin, February 14, 1826. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, 
 
 Many thanks for your long and copious letter of 
 the 25th and 29th of January. It has given 
 
 me especial pleasure, and I wish, therefore, to give 
 15 
 
228 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 you in return especial thanks. Your writing expresses 
 that warm and trustful affection which I value so 
 highly, and is composed, moreover, in that calm and 
 gentle spirit which I so earnestly wish to be yours. 
 My love for calmness and gentleness is not merely 
 a peculiarity of my disposition, or the natural conse- 
 quence of my years, but is founded on the simple 
 fact that where it is disturbed the harmony of life 
 vanishes. I allude to that harmony of spirit, which 
 is the necessary condition and only true foundation 
 of a happy life, and the want of which, whether 
 caused by sorrow, uneasiness, or any other mental 
 pain, is certain to be followed by the same unhappy 
 consequences. 
 
 There is a trace of earthliness in all passion, but 
 I am yet far from condemning it unreservedly, if it 
 proceed from the depths of the spirit, and have a 
 good cause. I may perhaps give the sunset view 
 of life ; but mine has never been a sorrowful spirit, 
 for it very early became my maxim to vanquish all 
 my sorrows by strength of will, however difficult the 
 attempt. But let this be as it may, I consider tran- 
 quillity, and the feelings which flow from it, as always 
 happier and more beneficent than agitation, whatever 
 its origin ; and taking, as I do, so deep ah interest in 
 your happiness, the disposition which your letters 
 express in this respect is peculiarly gratifying. 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 229 
 
 You have not mentioned in your last letter, dear 
 Charlotte, whether it is your intention to proceed 
 with your biography. I hope it may. I repeat my 
 so often repeated wishes on this subject. I shall 
 read, whatever you may write of it, with great in- 
 terest and lively pleasure, but sincerely hope that 
 you will not allow it to weary you, or touch upon 
 unpleasant reminiscences. You are not quite right 
 in saying that I commenced this correspondence 
 with you for the sake of gaining a thorough know- 
 ledge of your character. I always love to occupy 
 my thoughts with the past ; and the recollection of 
 you as you used to be, of our early correspondence 
 and acquaintance, was sufficient reason for its re- 
 newal. It is, however, very certain that the sym- 
 pathy and affections proceeding from our correspond- 
 ence have been much exalted and increased by the 
 openness with which you have disclosed to me the 
 workings of your spirit as well as the chances of 
 your life. For the manner in which you have done 
 this you have my hearty thanks, and you will cer- 
 tainly continue to receive them to the end. But I 
 will also assert generally, that when a man has 
 learned thoroughly the feelings, thoughts, and affec- 
 tions of another, many inconsistencies disappear, 
 and much which, viewed alone, he would condemn, 
 
230 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 or strongly disapprove of, becomes bearable or even 
 perfectly blameless. 
 
 You say that you have tried the water-cure, but 
 not to its full extent. This I can well believe, for it 
 is too terribly painful, as I have been assured, and 
 as indeed is manifest, to be pursued by many people 
 to its perfection. It consists, you say, in drinking 
 water as hot as it can be borne, at very short inter- 
 vals. I should like to have an exact account of the 
 quantity to be drunk, of the length of the intervals, 
 and of your sensations whilst taking the draughts. 
 I have already learned with sorrow from your letters 
 that its good effects on the state of your health were 
 but temporary. I am convinced that it is a very 
 effective mode of treatment, and have heard of many 
 cases in which it overcame deeply-seated maladies. 
 But I am, nevertheless, very far from asserting that 
 it is fit for every disease. 
 
 You remark that a certain call is not altogether 
 incredible. For my own part I have never been 
 subject to this superstition, but I know that it is 
 very old, and generally received as truth. You may 
 name me happy without filling me with evil pre- 
 sentiments. I only mentioned that the well-known 
 superstition had occurred to my recollection. It is 
 founded on ideas which lie very deep. Boasting, 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 231 
 
 especially when a man boasts of his own good for- 
 tune, is regarded as a sign of forgetfulness of the 
 instability of human affairs, of a disregard of modesty 
 and humility. And therefore it is, that the changes 
 from good to bad fortune, which are of such frequent 
 occurrence, are regarded by many as punishments; 
 and on this account also it is that persons of timid 
 disposition are very anxious to conceal, or at least 
 to say very little of any good fortune which may 
 happen to them, that they may forget as much as 
 possible the change which may some day take place. 
 The superstitious dislike of congratulation from 
 others is founded on the fear of envy and insincerity, 
 or a doubt whether this congratulation may not have 
 some malicious purpose in view. From such causes 
 it is that congratulation has come to be regarded as 
 an ill omen, and that talismans have been invented. 
 The whole must vanish before the truth of religion, 
 or even common sense. He who addresses himself 
 from pure delight at his own or another's happiness 
 with gratitude to its author, is certainly doing that 
 which is well pleasing to God, and guards himself 
 thereby against any unhappy change of circum- 
 stances in the way of punishment, unless, indeed, 
 such a change should arise from the inscrutable 
 designs of Providence. It is a still nobler feeling to 
 
232 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 rejoice at the happiness of another without envy, 
 and gratefully to receive our own as an undeserved 
 gift. 
 
 I learn from your letter that you intended sending 
 me a letter by to-day's post ; but as I cannot receive 
 it until after three days, I think that you would 
 rather that I should not retain this till then. I 
 should like to hear something of your occupations. 
 You know what an interest I feel in all which con- 
 cerns you, and how much pleasure I take in the 
 least details. Pray write to me on the 28th January. 
 Farewell ! With unchangeable affection, yours, 
 
 H. 
 
 LETTER LVIII. 
 
 Berlin, March 3, 1826. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, 
 
 Your two letters, one of the 13th and another of 
 the 26th of last month, lie before me awaiting 
 an answer. You can scarcely imagine how much 
 the quiet and trustful tone of both, being, I know, 
 the true expression of your feelings, has delighted 
 me. I have also been very pleased to see that your 
 health is rather improved. It is a great thing that 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 233 
 
 you have formed a second attempt to follow the 
 course of medicine which you describe as not only 
 very endurable, but also very successful. I have 
 known persons on whom this hot- water medicine 
 has acted so violently as to compel them to give it 
 up, causing with some such a flow of blood to the 
 head as to make them fear apoplexy. But, on the 
 other hand, I have known both men and women 
 who, after having followed this course of medicine 
 for some time, have been quite cured of their sick- 
 ness. I have no particular reason in asking the 
 details of its application, my only reasons being the 
 interest which I take in the state of your health, 
 and my curiosity respecting a mode of cure which 
 you mention so frequently, and respecting which I 
 have heard so much zealous advocacy and opposi- 
 tion. I am perfectly satisfied with the account 
 which you give me in your letters, for which you 
 have my hearty thanks. The simple and regular 
 mode of life which you now lead, and your extra- 
 ordinary patience, are medicines of great efficacy in 
 the cure of diseases. The good effect, indeed, of a 
 regular mode of living, which can never be disturbed 
 without disturbing the corporeal functions, is extra- 
 ordinary, and proves that temperance is the best 
 panacea. You have been guilty of one species of 
 
234 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 intemperance, that of over exertion. And it is with 
 a lively feeling of joy that I find you at length giving 
 yourself more leisure and some repose. The work 
 which you have planned out for yourself is, as you 
 rightly observe, too much for any one person. To 
 work till one or two o'clock at night, and to begin 
 work again at six in the morning, is excessive exer- 
 tion. I generally work till one o'clock at night, (it 
 is now near twelve,) but then I sleep till eight in 
 the morning, and employ the hours just preceding 
 bed-time in lighter studies — with my letters, or the 
 arrangement of my pursuits. For I always devote 
 my mornings to those which are most important or 
 most difficult. I have been much interested by your 
 account of your pursuits, so well chosen under the 
 circumstances which demanded an immediate de- 
 cision, and their profits. It is extraordinary to find, 
 as I do from the little table which you have drawn 
 up, that your receipts have tripled in the six years, 
 from 1820 to 1825, both years inclusive. It does 
 great honor to your patience and activity, as well 
 as your talents and skill. Your effort must now be 
 to direct others rather than to exert yourself, other- 
 wise you will be in danger of injuring both your 
 health and property. I make it an earnest request 
 that you will consider this a most important point. 
 
H UMB OLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 235 
 
 It is very kind and good of you to have reperused 
 all the letters which I sent you during the past year. 
 But I am very sorry that you should have paid any 
 further attention to those which had displeased or 
 distressed you. This was very unnecessary ; the 
 whole matter was a simple misunderstanding, which 
 we should now suffer to rest. Let it always console 
 you, that, in respect to you, my love and sympathy is 
 and ever will be the same. Without reproaching you, 
 I must yet say, that your letters have shown how 
 much and how frequently you suffered on this ac- 
 count, which greatly pained me, although very grati- 
 fying as a proof of friendship. Always reckon on 
 my sympathy, my readiness to serve you, for caprice 
 and passion are as foreign to my years as they have 
 ever been to my character. As I love you now, I 
 shall love you ever. I see with emotion that you 
 have not yet ceased to grieve lest some of your 
 expressions should have caused me pain. They 
 have not, and if you wish to give me a proof of your 
 attachment, let it be that you never mention such a 
 thing again. You may be as open with me as you 
 please, I shall ever counsel you in little as well as 
 important matters to the best of my ability, as may 
 seem most conducive to your welfare. I make the 
 chief end of our correspondence the free communi- 
 
236 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 cation of our ideas, whether they agree or disagree. 
 A correspondence is always more perfect as it is less 
 occupied with circumstances, and more with thoughts 
 and feelings. I am however far from pretending to 
 be always right, and where I think that I am, I have 
 no wish that you should think so, or conceal opposi- 
 tion. This is the rule of our connection. Do you, 
 dear Charlotte, be careful to preserve an uninterrupted 
 confidence, together with that calmness which is so 
 becoming to every age, and especially to that of a 
 more advanced period of life. 
 
 Business takes me to Silesia for a few weeks, I 
 cannot say exactly for how long. I pray you there- 
 fore to write to me on the 26th, directing as usual to 
 Ottmachau, near Neise, in Upper Silesia. Farewell! 
 With the fullest affection, 
 
 Yours, H. 
 
 LETTER L1X. 
 
 Ottmachau, April 10, 1826. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, 
 
 I arrived here to-day, and found your letter, which 
 must have awaited me some time. For, although 
 I left Berlin on the 29th of March, I had to visit 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 231 
 
 many places before I could come here, my last visit 
 being to a relation, the playmate of my youth, now 
 a widow with two children, of whom one is married, 
 who occupies a large castle amongst the hills. Nature 
 and art have united to render it a beautiful place, and 
 the time that I have been there has passed very 
 pleasantly. The weather here has been, generally, 
 as you say it has been in your part of the country, 
 very wet and stormy, but the last three days have 
 been fine, and the sun has shone to-day with a sum- 
 mer warmth. I left my friend at five o'clock ; and 
 as I passed out of the deep valley in which her castle 
 is situated, I watched the sun gradually rising until 
 his full orb gilded the peaks of the remotest hills. 
 This evening, however, is cloudy, and indeed the 
 great heat which we have had is not natural to the 
 season. During the whole of last winter I was, at 
 the most, but a couple of days in the country, and 
 feel, therefore, my present solitude as the greater 
 novelty. I have none of my family, no one in the 
 house with me but a servant, who is, besides, far 
 from my apartments. All is as still as the grave. 
 This does not in the least disturb me, for solitude 
 gives greater freedom to my thoughts and feelings, 
 and I frequently stay up late that I may enjoy the 
 solitude of midnight as well as the loneliness of the 
 house. 
 
238 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 I am very well acquainted with young Rose, and 
 like him much : he is diligent, clever, and learned ; 
 and will be, I think, a great man. I should have 
 been very glad if he had brought your nephew with 
 him to pay me a visit. It has ever been my maxim 
 that a man should be always accessible, whatever 
 his age or station ; and, for my own part, I never 
 deny myself to any one. The advantage is reciprocal 
 — a living man is the centre of many circumstances 
 — and we can never tell how or where they may 
 produce their fruits. And those who are engaged 
 in important pursuits, especially if they be at the 
 commencement of their career, have a higher interest 
 than others, and we willingly enter with them into 
 lines of thought and inquiry which are quite foreign 
 to our own pursuits or dispositions ; for, regarded in 
 their highest and most general point of view, all 
 ideas are one ; and intercourse with persons of very 
 differently formed minds, if they have reached any 
 of the more advanced stages of development, is emi- 
 nently refreshing to the soul ; and by mixing in life 
 with men of all degrees, and thus gaining an exten- 
 sive experience, we lose that narrowness of mind 
 which seldom disappears by any other means. 
 
 You are wrong, dear Charlotte, in saying that the 
 tone of my letters is too courteous and precise. This 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 239 
 
 is by no means my feeling ; and I think my last letter 
 is sufficient proof that I make no hesitation of ex- 
 pressing opinions different from yours. It must be 
 manifest to you that I wish to test your sentiments 
 and ideas. It frequently happens that after such a 
 test I find our thoughts similar, and I am always 
 anxious to express such agreement, because I not 
 only think, but know that it gives you pleasure. The 
 form of our correspondence is at least free from all 
 the restraints of flattery and intention ; but a wish 
 naturally clothes itself in the shape of a request, and 
 disagreements smooth down their abruptness and 
 ruggedness. And this is very natural in an inter- 
 course which is founded on a similarity of disposition. 
 The sincere and hearty sympathy, dear Charlotte, 
 which I take in you and all that concerns you, is 
 sufficient security that I shall use very cordial ex- 
 pressions, destructive of the coldness of politeness 
 — a coldness which I detest from the bottom of my 
 heart, and only practice in business transactions and 
 the polite circles. Out of these positions, for which 
 it is very proper, I never endure such formal polite- 
 ness, which is so sure a sign of something defective, 
 something rotten. But I go further than most men 
 in that kind of politeness which sacrifices neither 
 trustfulness nor cordiality. It is inborn in me ; and 
 
240 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 a person who should see me with iny daughters 
 could scarcely judge, except from my use of the word 
 "thou," that I was their father. And this proceeds 
 neither from a want of affection nor from any other 
 reason that I know, but simply from an inability to 
 do otherwise. 
 
 I will now conclude. I cannot tell you at the 
 moment how to direct your next letter. I shall 
 remain here too short a time to receive another letter 
 from you, and am grieved to think how long it will 
 be before I can hear from you. I should like you to 
 have a letter written, to send as soon as I write to 
 you again, which will be on my arrival at Berlin, or 
 perhaps earlier. With the most hearty sympathy, 
 
 Yours, H. 
 
 LETTER LX. 
 
 Glogau, May 9, 1826. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, 
 
 My journey has been longer than I intended, but 
 I am now on my return to Berlin, and write 
 to you from hence, where I have arrived earlier than 
 I had expected, and where I intend passing the night. 
 It is very long since I received a letter from you, and I 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 241 
 
 have been much grieved at not being able to name any 
 place where I should have been certain to find your 
 letters. I have been constantly changing the place 
 of my abode, except for the two weeks which I spent 
 at Ottmachau, and which I could not foresee, as my 
 business only compelled me to linger day by day. 
 Pray, dear Charlotte, write to me on the 23d of this 
 month, directing to Berlin as usual, that I may receive 
 the letter immediately on my arrival. I hope that our 
 correspondence may never meet with such another 
 interruption, for I am always pained when I do not 
 hear from you frequently. I fear that this cold and 
 cheerless weather must be very bad for your health. 
 It has been here, I mean in Silesia, very rough and 
 unseasonable. I hear similar complaints from per- 
 sons residing at Berlin ; but there has been a change 
 for the better during the last three or four days, and 
 to-day I have had a pleasant sunshine during my 
 whole journey from morn till sunset. Heaven and 
 earth were in wonderful contrast. The air was 
 perfectly still, and the blue heavens speckled with 
 clouds, which ever and anon obscured the sun for an 
 instant, and then passed away. The earth had no 
 such pleasant aspect. My journey lay across the 
 Oder, and I travelled for an hour along its banks, 
 which, indeed, I have but just left. Yesterday and 
 
242 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 the day before, the stream rose uncommonly high, 
 fields were overflowed, villages flooded, and all people 
 in a state of great excitement, preparing dams and 
 all sorts of defences against the water. It was a 
 misfortune which could not have been expected, as 
 the surface of the river, except in the very current 
 itself, was perfectly placid. The bushes appearing 
 above the water made a very curious sight. There 
 has not been so great a flood since the year 1813 as 
 this, which has been produced, it is most probable, by 
 the sudden thawing, during the late warm weather, 
 of the excessive quantity of sdow which collected on 
 the hills during the last unusually severe winter. 
 
 It is in this way, at least, that people generally 
 account for this sudden and extraordinary flood, of 
 which you will doubtless have heard from the papers. 
 Although it occurs to me as I write, dear Charlotte, 
 that it is very likely that you never see the papers. 
 I am the more ready to think this, as 1 so seldom 
 see them myself, not having seen one since the 29th 
 of March, when I happened to meet with a couple. 
 Both my domestic and mental life go on very well, 
 without demanding that I should concern myself 
 with the affairs of the world. We are sure to learn 
 great events without reading the papers, and it wears 
 out both my patience and interest to collect every 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 243 
 
 little piece of news, to trace every event through its 
 successive developments, to wade through all the 
 occurrences of a month. In the affairs and occur- 
 rences which concern whole states, we may still 
 trace the peculiar importance which belongs to the 
 activity, the spirit, and the sentiments of individuals. 
 Man is especially the middle point of the whole, and 
 every man remains alone to the end, so that, that 
 only which was in him, and proceeds from him, exer- 
 cises any weight upon him. However many com- 
 panions a man may have in the active sympathizing 
 world, he must ever make the journey which leads 
 across the boundaries of earthly things alone ; no 
 one may accompany him. But there is in all men 
 a feeling that we shall find in another world those 
 who shall die before, and after ourselves. No man 
 of feeling can yield this sentiment, this belief, without 
 giving up a source of much pure and exalted pleasure, 
 which is sanctified by Holy Writ. We may indeed 
 find it expressed in some passages as a truth strictly 
 pertaining to the comforting doctrines of Christianity. 
 But that makes no difference in what I before said. 
 I believe, that is, that here upon earth, all which has 
 any connection with other institutions, is only so far 
 of any advantage to man as it affects him individually. 
 
 AH advancement in respect to education, all improve- 
 16 
 
244 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 irient in public affairs, the reformation of states, and 
 of the world at large, is but an idea, till it shows its 
 power upon individuals. And uniformly, in the very- 
 greatest events which present themselves to my 
 notice, I ever measure their importance by the influ- 
 ence which they may exercise upon men's personal 
 and individual condition. 
 
 The only result of the generality of the circum- 
 stances is, that they effect much, or affect many ; and 
 of their vastness, that they set in motion extraordi- 
 nary powers. In this way it is that the individual 
 life is connected with the life of the world. That 
 which one may find in this or that private man, may 
 be found in every man, only proceeding from other 
 sources, and directed to other ends. The stage only 
 is different, the drama and the scenery are the same. 
 By viewing them in this manner, public events have 
 for me a higher and more lively interest. But this 
 is a mode of viewing them seldom or never practiced 
 in the newspapers. With respect to re-union of 
 friends after death, I may mention a very touching 
 verse which I met with in a country churchyard a 
 few days since : — A woman, who had been both a 
 mother and grandmother, was represented as praying 
 with and for her children and grandchildren ; and her 
 prayer concluded with the words : — 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 245 
 
 "Preserve them, God, from every pain, 
 That we may meet in peace again." 
 
 An expression which is exceedingly naive and 
 touching, and which, as it is most probably from 
 some old hymn-book, so much more beautiful than 
 the modern, you have doubtless heard already. I 
 have a great affection for grave-yards, and willingly 
 never pass one without visiting it. I am especially 
 fond of those which are planted with large old trees, 
 and even one such is a great charm. The sight of 
 the fresh blooming life unites so beautifully with the 
 thought of the dead slumbering beneath. The most 
 beautiful churchyard of this kind which I have seen, 
 was one in Königsberg, in Prussia, in which there are 
 long avenues of large and beautiful lime-trees. I 
 passed part of the year 1809 in Königsberg, and 
 spent a lovely summer afternoon in wandering about 
 this cemetery. The burial-ground at Rome for 
 strangers who are not Catholics, also, is very pretty, 
 being further adorned with an ancient pyramid and 
 tomb, which happen to be within its enclosures. 
 
 I shall remain but a short time at Berlin, being 
 anxious to get to Tegel, partly because I love the 
 place and its neighborhood, and partly on account of 
 its unbroken solitude. One can do but little on a 
 journey, and while changing one's residence. Our 
 
246 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 occupations, then, are peculiarly adverse to literary 
 employments. Farewell! With hearty sympathy 
 and unchangeable affection, 
 
 Yours, H. 
 
 LETTER LXI. 
 
 Berlin. 
 
 I have been very well, but very busy, and have 
 at length brought to a conclusion a work which 
 has occupied me for years. I have already laid 
 down my plans for the future, but will now devote 
 to you the first leisure time which I have had for 
 years. 
 
 The weather is singularly beautiful for our north- 
 ern clime ; it has a heathful influence on mind and 
 body, and inclines the soul to contemplation. It is 
 a very enviable privilege of southern climes, that 
 there men ever enjoy a genial atmosphere, but in 
 other respects, perhaps, it is not so advantageous, 
 and must even be, I think, hurtful to the mind. For 
 being free, as they are, from the unpleasantness of 
 winter, they want also the pure pleasure which we 
 experience on the return of spring. It naturally 
 affects the soul ; and if a man can bring himself to 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 24T 
 
 believe, as I do, that every deeply-seated feeling 
 has its origin in the impressions of visible nature on 
 our spirits, he must then think also that feelings and 
 sentiments cannot strike root so deeply in the hearts 
 of southern people as in ours, who every year behold 
 the fresh and glowing form of nature spring from 
 the dull rigidity of winter. And this, most probably, 
 is the cause of the deep contrasts, the masses of 
 shade, the masses of light, which are the peculiar 
 features of our poetry, of that earnestness and depth 
 of feeling which ever live in this obscurity, in this 
 tendency to flee from the light of outward nature to 
 the privacy and solitude of the inward soul. The 
 strength of feeling and passion, which in the poetry 
 of other lands burn as living fire, in ours are a fire 
 also, but a fire which rather smoulders than flames, 
 and effects great purposes slowly. These feelings 
 are fed by the more earnest longings, with which 
 we are led by the comparative harshness of our 
 clime, to look forward to that paradise which is pro- 
 mised to us as a more enduring abode than the one 
 which we now inhabit. And thence proceeds another 
 great longing which few men are without, and which 
 is especially strong in men who think much and 
 deeply. For however much we may love this earth, 
 and totally ignorant as we are of the appearance of 
 
248 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 the other worlds of the creation, we cannot help feel- 
 ing that nature must, in those worlds, be fairer and 
 more richly endowed than she is with us. With 
 this may be connected the feeling that we would not 
 willingly leave our present abode for another. We 
 may there, indeed, find a compensation for things of 
 which we must be deprived by death, but in this is 
 implied the confession that we have loved that 
 which is less beautiful, or, at least, valued it equally 
 with that which is of a higher nature, and cannot 
 for the moment separate our desires from that which 
 is the lower. This is common to both the German 
 and English poets, and has the same origin in either. 
 It is similar, to compare great things with small, 
 to the longing after a more intellectual existence 
 which is common to all noble spirits, although they 
 would not be willing to resign life at any particular 
 moment. 
 
 One-sidedness is altogether relative, and we have 
 reason to fear its influence over a man who seeks to 
 direct his attention to too great a multitude of 
 objects. But women are so fortunate, we may truly 
 say fortunate, as to be able to remain strange to 
 many things. They are for the most part gainers 
 thereby, since they thus contract the circle of their 
 sentiments, so as to give them greater depth, and 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 249 
 
 thus one-sidedness is not with them so injurious as 
 with men. I remember two women of my acquaint- 
 ance, who avoided as far as possible entering into 
 society, and remained in such retirement, not on 
 account of any unhappiness, but from simple in- 
 clination, so that it was with the greatest unwilling- 
 ness that they entered into the company of a single 
 stranger; and certainly they lost none of their in- 
 terest by this reserve. 
 
 You allude with sorrow to many vices in their 
 relations and consequences, and desire my opinion 
 on the subject. I acknowledge that I neither admire 
 nor approve of that notion, according to which 
 morality is split into a certain number of virtues, 
 which are opposed to the same number of vices. 
 Such a system appears to me false and unnatural. 
 
 I cannot say whether I hate most the proud, the 
 avaricious, the extravagant, or the voluptuous. It 
 all depends on individual circumstances. In judging 
 men, I always look to their dispositions as the 
 groundwork of all their thoughts, determinations, 
 and actions. As this may be good or evil, noble or 
 ignoble, I make my decision. If two or three men 
 have, in the same degree, ignoble, selfish, low dis- 
 positions, it matters little in what particular view 
 these qualities may find expression. One vice may 
 
250 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 be more inconvenient or injurious than another, but 
 they are all of them equally bad and pitiful. It is 
 the same with virtues. One man may be entirely 
 free from immorality, and possess many good quali- 
 ties, whilst another may err in many points, as, for 
 example, in being proud, or of a violent temper ; but 
 I should yet, if the latter had the nobler disposition, 
 very much prefer him to the former. Two points, 
 however, have to be considered ; that is, the idea 
 according to which, and from which, the individual 
 becomes good, and that power of the will through 
 which he confirms this idea against the freedom or 
 the passions of his nature. Pitiful men are those 
 who have no power over themselves, who, when 
 they continue virtuous, continue so from low motives, 
 from a regard for their happiness and ease, from a 
 dread of the stings of conscience and future punish- 
 ment. It is certainly very good and useful that men 
 should be preserved from sin even by such consider- 
 ations as these, but we cannot regard such dispo- 
 sitions with pleasure. That spirit only is noble 
 which acts virtuously for virtue's sake, from a feel- 
 ing of duty, from a conviction of her exalted worth, 
 from a true perception of her unequalled beauty. 
 Such motives as these alone prove a disposition 
 great and noble, and have a beneficial influence on 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 251 
 
 the disposition itself. And if, as is ever the case 
 with truly amiable spirits, religion is one of them, 
 their good effects are twofold. Religion cannot 
 either be gained or understood in its true great- 
 ness by low minds. He who serves God from selfish 
 motives only, for the sake of his protection, help, or 
 blessing; or that he may be at liberty to require 
 Him to trouble himself about every single circum- 
 stance of his life, again makes himself the centre 
 point of all. But he who, imbued with a deep sense 
 of the great and fatherly goodness of God, regards 
 Him with unspeakable admiration and gratitude, he 
 who dismisses from his mind everything inconsistent 
 with the thought that the demands of duty and 
 virtue are for the furtherance of the Divine will, for 
 the furtherance of the plans which God has laid 
 down for the government of the world, he has a 
 truly religious and virtuous spirit. 
 
 Farewell! With unchangeable, ever sympathizing 
 affection, 
 
 Yours, H. 
 
252 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 LETTER LXII. 
 
 Tegel, September 10, 1826. 
 
 Dear Charlotte, 
 
 I have received with great pleasure your letter, 
 and the continuation of your biography. Short 
 as they are, they treat of a most eventful period, and 
 I have read them with much interest. 
 
 You have before told me, that when we first be- 
 came acquainted at Pyrmont, you were already 
 secretly betrothed. This greatly surprised me, as I 
 had not the least suspicion of such a thing. The 
 circumstances of your union were very remarkable. 
 In spite of what we think or say, it appears, as you 
 rightly remark, that an eternal fate, which none may 
 oppose, determines our individual destiny. I am 
 quite of your opinion that it is by no means certain 
 that that providence, which is commonly called good 
 and bad fortune, is worthy of much consideration. 
 The less happy our outward lot, the more comforting 
 and exalting it is to think ourselves worthy of a 
 higher species of cultivation. In such fortunes as 
 yours, the hand of fate is wonderfully manifest. To 
 many actions we are hurried on by some inward in- 
 comprehensible impulse, and so far from being in- 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 253 
 
 fluenced with respect to them by outward circum- 
 stances, we feel that it would be better if others 
 would assist us to avoid that end towards which we 
 feel thus irresistibly drawn. You did little in reality 
 to involve yourself in this fate : you simply, out of 
 love to your friend, resigned yourself to its dispen- 
 sation. It is very frequently the case that persons 
 who do not love, or who may even dislike each 
 other, are married, for reasons and on account of 
 feelings which should never be allowed to take part 
 in such a matter, however innocent they may be in 
 themselves. Such marriages are to me, indeed, 
 almost incomprehensible, for I cannot, for a single 
 instant, entertain the idea of marrying any person 
 whom I did not at the time feel to be the only 
 person with whom I could enter into such a con- 
 nection. I cannot, for a single instant, entertain 
 the idea of marrying a woman for whom I felt only 
 respect and friendship, and not those profound, 
 ardent sentiments, which are commonly called love. 
 It is only in marriages sanctified by these higher 
 feelings that the affections remain unto the grave 
 the same as they were at first. 
 
 It is, however, a very good thing that all people 
 have not the same views. Did they think as I do, 
 there could be very few marriages at all ; whereas 
 
254 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 many are happy which were at first marked by cold- 
 ness and indifference. In respect to yours, it is very 
 manifest that you were influenced by your love for 
 your friend, by the best feelings of the human heart ; 
 and that the best, the noblest, and most unselfish 
 feelings may lead to the most unhappy results. It 
 is as if by some lofty and wise dispensation the out- 
 ward fates were brought into conflict with the inner 
 sentiments, in order that the latter might receive a 
 higher worth, shine in sublimer purity, and become, 
 by privation and suffering, dearer to him who is so 
 happy as to possess them. However benevolent 
 the government of Providence may be, its benefi- 
 cence cannot be always and uniformly exhibited in 
 the prosperity of particular men. It has ever a 
 higher end, and operates rather upon the inner senti- 
 ments and feelings of our nature. 
 
 The account of the ghostly warning which you 
 give is very wonderful. You received it, you say, 
 when you first gave your consent to the marriage 
 which caused you so much sorrow. And even more 
 wonderful was the intimation of your mother's death 
 at the same moment. 
 
 It is impossible to deny that you did, indeed, hear 
 some voice. And it is quite as certain, from the 
 total solitude and loneliness of your situation at the 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 255 
 
 time, that it was the voice of no living being. It 
 was a voice which sounded within your own spirit, 
 although you seemed to hear it with your outward 
 ears. There are many who would pronounce it only 
 a deception of the imagination ; who think that those 
 appearances which are generally thought supernatu- 
 ral are simply the result of natural causes. Such 
 persons will admit of no connection between the 
 spiritual and material world, and believe that he 
 who has seen anything of the kind has only been 
 affected by his fancy, or the state of his blood. That 
 this may sometimes be the case I will not deny, but 
 I will not allow that it has never been otherwise 
 with some men in some situations. You observe 
 that you have become more and more convinced of 
 the truth of the opinion expressed by Jung-Stilling 
 in his theory of Ghosts, (a work which I have not 
 read,) that those of our friends who have gone be- 
 fore, still feeling for us an earnest love, are eager to 
 protect us, and having then a clearer vision than 
 we, are anxious to make their presence known to 
 us, in order to render their warning, in important 
 and remarkable circumstances, more deeply felt. All 
 this merely shows that they would re-enter into 
 relation with us, while this itself must plainly de- 
 pend on the freedom of our spiritual perceptions 
 
2f>G 
 
 H I M B L UT S I ti T TER S. 
 
 from the outward senses. In this state of freedom, 
 to which no one can attain by his own mere will, 
 you may probably believe yourself to have been, 
 when, raised above all ordinary considerations, you 
 wrote down your resolves. Your remarks are pro- 
 found and feeling. 
 
 There is, doubtless, a still, secret, unearthly circle 
 of existence perpetually surrounding us, although 
 imperceptible and invisible ; and why should not 
 the veil be raised for an instant, and that become 
 visible which has no trace in earthly life ? Such 
 was the case with you the moment when you wrote 
 down that determination which was to cause you so 
 much unhappiness : you were warned by the voice 
 of one who was soon to be no more, and at the 
 moment which was so remarkably signified by the 
 fact that your mother died at the same time one 
 week after. This was certainly a supernatural oc- 
 currence. It was one of those omens, which some- 
 times, though rarely, occur — one of those indications 
 of a world from which our ordinary life is separated 
 by an impassable gulf. I thank you heartily that 
 you have not omitted to state this circumstance. 
 
 It is very manifest that you have been too anxious 
 to satisfy your obligations. Although I honor your 
 endurance very much, it at the same time causes 
 
HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS. 
 
 251 
 
 me much sorrow ; and I would willingly assist you 
 to obtain that repose which I entreat you to take. 
 Pray deny yourself no longer that rest of which you 
 stand in so much need. I greatly fear that you will 
 not be able to proceed in your undertaking much 
 farther. To do so would need a more business-like 
 spirit than yours ; one of younger years, and younger 
 in strength. It is surely better to allow it to remain 
 within its present confined circle. For to-day, dear- 
 est Charlotte, adieu! 
 
 With unchangeable sympathy and affection, yours, 
 
 E. 
 
 THE END. 
 
DECEMBER, 1863. 
 
 NEW PUBLICATIONS, 
 
 BY 
 
 FREDERICK LEYPOLDT, 
 
 1323 CHESTNUT STREET, PHILADELPHIA. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 F. W. CHRISTERN, 763 Broadway. 
 
 BOSTON: A. K. LORING, 319 Washington Street, and 
 S. URBINO, 13 School Street. 
 CINCINNATI: ROBERT CLARKE & CO., 55 W. Fourth Street. 
 BALTIMORE: JAS. S. WATERS. 
 
NEW ILLUSTRATED WORKS. 
 
 Dante Album. Photographs of select 
 
 Illustrations to Dante's "Inferno." By Gustave Dore. 
 Portfolio. First and Second Series. Price, each, $5. 
 
 Le Juif Errant. Thirteen Photographs 
 
 of Gustave Dore's Illustrations of "The Wandering 
 Jew." Portfolio. Price, $3.50. 
 
 Atala Album. Twelve Photographs 
 
 from Gustave Dore's Illustrations of Chateaubriand's 
 "Atala." Portfolio. Price, $3.50. 
 
 Perrault's Sleeping Beauty in the Wood. 
 
 With six Photographs of the Illustrations by Gustave 
 Dore. A new edition. 1 vol. 4to. Cloth. Price, $2.50. 
 
 The Legends of the Birds. By Charles 
 
 Godfrey Leland. With Lithographs in colors by F. 
 Moras. 1 vol. 4to. Fancy boards. Price, $1.50. 
 
 Mother Goose from Germany. With 
 
 numerous Illustrations. On tinted paper. 1 vol. 4to. 
 Fancy boards. Price, 75 cents. 
 
 Mother Pitcher's Poems for Little 
 
 People. With comic illustrations. 1 vol. 4to. Fancy 
 boards. Price, 50 cents. 
 
 Miniature Dante Album. A complete 
 
 set. 76 cards. In Case. 32mo. Price, $10. 
 
 Fairy Album. A complete set of Gus- 
 tave Dork's Illustrations of Perrault's " Fairy Tales." 
 40 cards. In Case. 32mo. Price, $5.50. 
 
NEW PUBLICATIONS 
 
 BY 
 
 FREDERICK LEYPOLDT, 
 
 No. 1323 Chestnut St, Philadelphia. 
 
 The Ice-Maiden, and other Tales. By 
 
 Hans Christian Andersen. Translated from the 
 
 German by Miss Fanny Fuller. 1 vol. 16mo. 
 
 Printed on tinted paper. Cloth. Price, 75 cts. 
 
 "Probably no writer of stories for tbe young ever equalled Hans 
 Christian Andersen. Certainly none ever succeeded as he has done in re- 
 producing the nameless charm of the real fairy-tale which springs up 
 without an author among the people, — the best specimens of which are 
 the stories collected by the Brothers Grimm, in Germany. . . . Swiss life 
 (in ' The Ice-Maiden') is depicted as though we were listening to jodle 
 songs on the mountains and felt the superstitions »f the icy winter 
 nights taking hold of our souls. ... 'The Psyche' is an art-story. Most 
 writers would have made it a legend of 'high' art ; but it is far sweeter and 
 more impressive from the sad simplicity and gentleness with which it 
 is here told. 'The Butterfly,' on the contrary, is a delightful little 
 burlesque on flirtations and fops ; and ' The Snail and the Rose-Tree' 
 is much like it. Both are really fables of the highest order, or shrewd 
 prose epigrams. ... The spirit of the original is charmingly preserved; and 
 Miss Fuller has the rare gift of using short and simple words, — which 
 are the best in the world when one knows how to use them as she does." 
 —Continental Monthly. 
 
 " A new work by Hans Christian Andersen, well translated, must be 
 acceptable to persons of all ages. His stories are among the household 
 treasures of the world. His latest work (' The Ice-Maiden, and other 
 Tales') has just been so well translated into English by Miss Fanny 
 Fuller that it reads as if it had originally been written in our language. 
 Altogether, it has its author's leading characteristics, — invention, grace, 
 and sustained interest." — Press. 
 
 "What Shakspeare is in poetry and the drama, Hans Christian 
 Andersen is in children's stories, — the ' myriad-minded' master of fair y- 
 land. The latest growth of his prolific mind is a little knot of divers- 
 colored blossoms, four in all (' The Ice-Maiden,' etc.). The first-named 
 is the longest, — a pretty historiette, brim-full of the daintiest poetry : the 
 other three are short fantastic anecdotes, as it were, of art and nature ; 
 but, short as they are, they are radiant with the genius of Andersen. 
 Tbe volume is charmingly got up," etc.— World. 
 
 I 
 
New Publications. 
 
 "We have received 'The Ice-Maiden, and other Tales,' an exquisiti 
 little volume. The principal tale is located in Switzerland; and the 
 simple life and manners, the superstitions, and beautiful and grand 
 aspects of nature, about the Oberland Alps, the Gemini pass, and the 
 Rhine valley, are wrought into a picturesque and touching story, with all 
 that imaginative charm peculiar to this Danish prince of story-tellers." — 
 D-ivight's Journal of Music. 
 
 "A dainty volume, truly, is this 'Ice-Maiden, and other Tales,' and 
 published in the best taste, with its clear print, red-edged leaves, parti- 
 colored title-page, and choice binding. It is a gem in gem-like setting. 
 Four real stories from the fancy-dropping pen of the charming Danish 
 tale-teller will send a ray of sunshine into many a young heart; and all 
 of the elders who have a heart will enjoy it." — New Yorker. 
 
 ' ; If you want a book for young people winning to the eye and nourish- 
 ing to the mind, — pure, delicate, and replete at once with fanciful and 
 romantic interest, — get ' The Ice-Maiden, and other Tales.' " — Albion. 
 
 " In the elegant little volume before us we have translations of four 
 of the best of Andersen's stories. The version has been made with rare 
 skill. The paper and binding of the volume are superb. Its clear 
 typography and illuminated title feast the eye, and do honor to Ameri- 
 can enterprise and art." — Cincinnati Gazette. 
 
 "The translation is so admirable that, without losing any of the 
 author's literal truth, it reads like an original English book." — Pub- 
 lishers' Circular. 
 
 "The 'Ice-Maiden' is one of the most beautiful stories we have ever 
 read; and the others are full of delicacy and originality. The book 
 should be placed in the hands of every one." — City Item. 
 
 " A most agreeable writer is the imaginative author, with his rich 
 fancy, graceful 6tyle, and true moral tone. ' The Ice-Maiden,' « Psyche,' 
 etc., are legends, myth-histories of the Alps, whose people's ideas receive 
 inspiration from the grand old scenery by which they are surrounded. 
 Probably some of the attractions of the beautiful little volume may 
 be due to the facility of the translator and the elegance of the me- 
 chanical execution." — Worcester Palladium. 
 
 " We have a fresh collection of Andersen's delightful Tales, entitled 
 ' The Ice-Maiden,' etc. They are delicate and subtle in conception, and 
 sometimes try the ingenuity of the reader who seeks the deeper meaning 
 under the charming exterior. A meaning there is, which conveys whole- 
 some truths, and very often within easy grasp. Andersen is the princ* 
 of moral writers for the young in our day." — Presbyterian 
 2 
 
New Publications. 
 
 Life of Chopin. By F. Liszt. Trans- 
 lated from the French by Mrs. Martha Walker Cook. 
 1 vol. lömo. Printed on tinted paper. With a Photo- 
 graph. Cloth. Price, $1.00. 
 
 "Tho lovers of musical art may justly be congratulated on the ap- 
 pearance of this extraordinary biographical study in an appropriate 
 English dress. It is the enthusiastic tribute of a man of noble genius 
 to a kindred spirit whose mastership he acknowledged, and with whom 
 he cherished a deep and tender friendship, beyond the vitiating touch 
 of personal or artistic rivalry. The volume, indeed, affords a no less 
 admirable illustration of the impulsive, generous, unworldly character 
 of tho author than of the rare and wonderful gifts of its unique sub- 
 ject. It is the product of the heart rather than the head, and its fre- 
 quent passages of childlike naivete, its transparent revelations of tho 
 inmost soul of the writer, and the radiant atmosphere of spiritual 
 beauty in which thoughts and images are melted together with a 
 magic spell, transport it from the sphere of prose composition to that 
 of high poetry. In spite of the trammels of words, it gives expression 
 to the same subtle and ethereal conceptions which inspired the genius 
 of Liszt as a musical artist. As a sketch of the life of the great com- 
 poser, it possesses an interest with which few biographical works can 
 compare; but no details of incident could imprison the soul of the 
 author, and a fine aesthetic aroma breathes from every page, fragrant 
 with the blossoming out of a rich original nature, as well as with an 
 exquisite sense of art. 
 
 " We must not forget to thank the intelligent translator of this volume 
 for the fidelity with which she has executed her by no means easy 
 task. The elevated — almost aerial — conceptions of Liszt, often seeming 
 as if they disdained the bonds of language, are presented in lucid, 
 idiomatic English, which derives a certain vital force more from warmth 
 of sympathy with the original than from the use of any of tho arts of 
 vigorous expression." — Tribune. 
 
 " The American art-world may congratulate itself on the possession 
 of such a work, and students and lovers of the great Chopin will thank 
 the translator and Mr. Leypoldt for such a gift. It will lie on every 
 music-stand with the beautiful thin volumes of Chopin music." — 
 DwighVs Journal of Music. 
 
 "We wish the book would be bought by every amateur, because it 
 does not only give an insight into one of the most peculiar geniuses of 
 modern times and into his music, but it also shows us, more than perhaps 
 any thing else, the high imaginative powers of Liszt, the poet, composer, 
 and pianist." — Musical Review. 
 
 "Nc more fitting biographer could Chopin have than his friend 
 
 3 
 
New Publications. 
 
 Liszt. No one could better appreciate and describe bis great genius, 
 and no one better portray bis life and character, tban bis fellow-artist 
 and fellow-countryman."— Musical Pioneer. 
 
 '•Tbe book, in fact, opens a vista into modes of life, manners of being, 
 and trains of tbougbt little known among us, and hence is most deeply 
 interesting. Tbe stylo is eminently suited to tbe subject, and tbo 
 translation of Liszt's French is equal to the original." — Continental 
 Monthly. 
 
 "Iif this tasteful volume we have the life of one renowned artist by 
 another. It is a work that doe3 honor to both, and which all admirers 
 of true genius will not fail to read." — National Quarterly Review. 
 
 "The popularity which Chopin has recently acquired in this country 
 will render the book very acceptable to all who know his music; while 
 to other readers its beauty of style, exquisite portrayal of character, and 
 descriptions of Polish life and Tarisian society, will prove extremely 
 fascinating." — Boston Journal. 
 
 " Liszt, the favorite pupil of Chopin, while he by no means neglects 
 these minor requisites of a satisfactory memoir, presents us with a pic- 
 ture of his great master from the point which he himself would un- 
 doubtedly have chosen, — his musical side, — treating us to a loving and 
 appreciative criticism of some of his noblest compositions. We com- 
 mend this little volume — which typographically is a model of dainti- 
 ness — to the lover of music and musicians." — World. 
 
 "Chopin was a rarely-gifted genius: his most eminent disciples have 
 f mnd ever-increasing delight in his peculiar thoughtfulness and origin- 
 ality. The many in our country who are interested in his great works 
 will feel obliged to Mr. Leypoldt for the rich information afforded in 
 this little book, and for the manner in which it is offered, — the binding, 
 paper, type, all attractive."— Lutheran. 
 
 "The book is a marvel of elegant and finished writing: we forget in 
 reading that it is a translation." — Presbyterian. 
 
 " Admirably has Liszt performed the pleasant labor of love. . . . The 
 style of the work is characteristic of its author. His eulogy of Chopin 
 has nothing overwrought about it, but is tho sincere and ardent ex- 
 pression of reverence and lpve which true genius has for genius, — a 
 sentiment into which th'ere enters no alloy of jealousy ar«d carping criti- 
 cism." — Palladium. 
 
 "To say that it is a faithful translation scarcely does it justice; 
 for Liszt's French is scarcely so beautiful as Mrs. Cook's English. She 
 has given the spirit of the work with more fidelity than the letter. The 
 book is in every respect a charming one." — Evening Bulletin. 
 4 
 
New Publications. 
 
 Mendelssohn's Letters from Italy and 
 
 Switzerland. Translated from the German by Lady 
 Wallace. With a Biographical Notice by Julie de 
 Marguerittes. 1 vol. lGmo. Cloth, Price, $1.25. 
 " In these letters, addressed principally to members of his family, the 
 playful, affectionate nature of the man sheds everywhere the loveliest 
 radiance. There is music in his descriptions ; and a murmur of song 
 seems to have run through all his letters. They are the converse of hi.i 
 Songs without Words ; and we venture to predict that the Letters of Men- 
 delssohn will become as classical as those compositions. ... It is seldom 
 that we have inclination to speak of a book in terms of equal warmth. 
 Wo must add that Lady Wallace has performed her part of translator in 
 a manner beyond all praise. The letters read as if English had been 
 the language in which they were written." — Parthenon. 
 
 "They are as bright, as cheery, and as interesting as the letters of 
 Mozart contained in Holmes's biography. . . . Every page will be read with 
 delight by every person who has conceived an admiration of Mendels- 
 sohn's genius by hearing his wonderful music." — Evening Bulletin. 
 
 "The letters themselves are exquisite productions, both in style and 
 matter. They record chiefly the writer's art-impressions — which are 
 healthful and perspicuously expressed — in the centres of artistic 
 activity; but many most pleasing descriptions of scenery and manners 
 are interwoven with the criticisms." — Presbyterian. 
 
 "... Who, then, will not welcome this fresh portraiture of the master ? 
 Who will not be thankful for having such an agreeable introduction 
 to Mendelssohn's inner character? The introductory biography is a 
 charming little essay. The letters which make up the book are just the 
 familiar chat and the heartful expression which one would expect a 
 gifted mind to write to his sister Fanny, the one he loved better than 
 any other. We speak thus positively, not because book-reviewers 
 usually say good things of their books, but because this particular book 
 is really admirable. We can without qualification recommend it to 
 every one. The language, style, facts, the paper, type, binding, are 
 not only entirely unobjectionable, but attractive." — Lutheran. 
 
 " Mr. F. Leypoldt, in Philadelphia, has already followed up the good 
 work of publishing Liszt's ' Life of Chopin,' by giving us the ' Travelling 
 Letters' of the young Mendelssohn, which need no recommendation to 
 the readers of this Journal. He has reprinted, in the same beautiful 
 style and form with the 'Chopin,' the translation of the 1 Letter ~ 
 from Italy and Switzerland,' made in Engla d by Lady Wallace."— 
 Dwighfs Journal of Music. 
 
 5 
 
New Publications. 
 
 '•There is so much candor, modesty, and amiability displayed in these 
 letters that one cannot help admiring the character of the writer. On 
 tho other hand, all that sound judgment, that cautiousness, that power 
 of self-control, which chai-acterized the wholo artistic life of Mendelssohn, 
 is already fully indicated in these letters. For this reason, the book is 
 a key to the better understanding of Mendelssohn as a man and as a 
 composer. This aloue entitles it to be carefully read by every student 
 and amateur. Our young composers can learn more from this book of 
 travels than is taught to them in a good many conservatories; and we 
 cannot wish them any thing better than that every one of them will 
 take its contents to heart." — Musical Review. 
 
 " His Letters afford abundant evidence of his taste and judgment. It 
 is but seldom we have met with more admirable criticisms than those 
 contained in correspondence with his friends from the principal cities of 
 Europe. Nor does he evince any prejudice as an artist. In general, he 
 is an earnest critic: he gives his impressions honestly." — National 
 Quarterly Review. 
 
 "There have been few so beautiful lives as that of Mendelssohn, 
 which was happy in every thing except in its early ending, — aud even in 
 that, if there be any truth in the old Greek saying, ' Whom the gods love 
 die young.' . . . What letters such a man as Mendelssohn would be likely 
 to write to his dearest and best friends, from Venice, Rome, Milan, 
 Naples, Lucerne, and Paris, may be imagined. . . . The beauty and rich- 
 ness of his genius shine through them and make them delightful read- 
 ing, the aroma of which lingers in the mind, when the letters themselves 
 are laid down, like the echo of a strain of music or the memory of a 
 happy day. The volume is charmingly got up." — World. 
 
 " All through the volume we find sensible criticism, not only upon 
 music, but also upon sculpture, painting, and scenery. The snatches 
 of personal action are given in the most natural manner. The whole 
 correspondence was written without the slightest view to publication, 
 and is better, in one sense, on that very account."— Press. 
 
 "This is one of the most unpretending yet most touching little works 
 we have met with for a long while. . . . Those who love music and wish 
 to understand how men and things appear to an inspired artist must 
 read this little book." — Age. 
 
 "Of the illustrious author of these Letters we speak with reverence 
 Gifted with the very highest order of musical genius and with a fine 
 mind, he never once prostituted either of these precious endowments to 
 an unworthy purpose. lie seems to have held them as a sacred trust 
 for which he would have to give account. His life was in accordance 
 with his genius. Both were beautiful; and they have left enduring 
 marks behind them." — Xorth American. 
 
New Publications. 
 
 "This is one of the most charming productions — or rather reproduc- 
 tions— of our modern literature." — Transcript. 
 
 "The volume is really a very charming work, not merely to tho lovers 
 of music, hut to all who wish to peruso a work possessing peculiar 
 charms off composition, and producing upon tho mind that pleasurahlo 
 sensation of repose which both tho subjects treated and the amiability 
 of the author combined to produce." — Boston Gazette. 
 
 "... During a visit to Goethe in 1830, he planned a journey to Italy; 
 and those letters are the pleasing, familiar record of this journey. 
 They are naive and piquant as the home-letters of a child ; while the 
 well-stored mind of tho man and the scholar gleams throughout their 
 pages in thoughtful observations upon art, literature, and life, which 
 give tbe book more than a temporary interest. . . . His opinions on art- 
 themes have the highest worth; and they are not less acceptable for 
 coming to us in the form of letters. ... No musical library will be com- 
 plete without this tasteful little volume and its predecessor." — 
 Palladium. 
 
 "Mr. F. L., a publisher whose books evince excellent taste, has lately 
 issued a neat volume of 'Mendelssohn's Letters,' etc. The Letters are 
 pleasant relics of a delicate and noble mind: — they are simple and 
 natural in style, descriptive in substance, and poetic in sentiment. To 
 persons of musical taste and cultivation, this volume must possess a 
 peculiar interest. Its merits, however, are so various and so genuine 
 that all lovers of literature will lind pleasure in reading it. - ' — Albion.. 
 
 7 
 
New Publications. 
 
 The Jobsiad, or The Life, Opinions, 
 
 Actions and Fate of Ilieronimus Jobs, the Candidate. 
 A grotesco-coinico-heroic Poem. From the German of 
 Dr. Carl Arnold Kortum, by Charles T. Brooks, 
 Translator of "Faust," "Titan," etc. lvol. 16mo. 
 Printed on tinted laid paper. With illustrations. 
 Cloth, red edges or top gilt, $1.25 
 
 "The frequenters of the Düsseldorf Cillery at the time of its first 
 openings in New York have not forgotten the irresistibly comic pic- 
 tures by Ilasenclever, representing certain passages in the life of the 
 renowned Ilieronimus Jobs. In this wonderful mock-heroic poem the 
 complete biography of that worthy is presented in appropriately jolly 
 verse. The work is considered a regular classic of its kind in Germany, 
 where it first appeared nearly three-quarters of a century since, and 
 from that time has maintained its rank as a master-piece of whimsical 
 drollery. In its present form the poem reads like a fresh production. 
 The incidents and costume, of course, are German, but the langnage is 
 decidedly the Yankee vernacular of the raciest kind, and its whole air 
 of quaint, demure humor expressed in the most saucy familiar English 
 makes it one of the most remarkable feats of translation in any litera- 
 ture. This should cause no surprise, however, to those who are ac- 
 quainted with the previous successes of Mr. Brooks in this line ; for no 
 miracle of translation is impossible to one who has achieved the all- 
 but desperate task of rendering 'Faust' and 'Titan' into wholesome, 
 idiomatic English not unworthy of the originals." — Tribune. 
 
 " Mr. Brook3 attempts the hardest tasks of the translator. ' Faust' is 
 one of the most difficult books to render into English verse; 'Titan' is 
 still worse to be translated at all; and now we have a poem of which 
 even the metre must be created by the translator, there being none 
 such in our language. Yet in all these Mr. Brooks has been successful, 
 moderately in ' Faust,' eminently in ' Titan,' — Carlyle being the judge. — 
 and comically in this book. So well has he succeeded in 'oversetting' 
 the humor of the piece into the New England dialect, while yet retain- 
 ing the German flavor of the story, that it cannot fail to be read, 
 especially since the publisher has put it in a dress so attractive and 
 appropriate." — Commonwealth. 
 
 "This book is translated by C. T. Brooks, tho translator of 'Faust,' 
 ' Titan,' &c, and is the first rendering into En glish of one of the master- 
 pieces of German humor. It is full of fun and frolic, abounds in 
 pedantry, and. as a German writer says, ' owes a great part of its effect to 
 the peculiar doggerel, since become typical, managed by the author with 
 the mo^t riotous extravagance of whimsy, and yet at the same time 
 8 
 
New Publications. 
 
 with the sure hand of a master.' The peculiar doggerel Mr. Brooks has 
 succeeded in reproducing in English, and he has furnished a translation 
 which will very soon take its placo among the standard books on the 
 shelves of the student and the book-amateur." — Commercial Advertiser. 
 
 "This is a most amusing and popular poem in the original, and it has 
 been translated with groat fidelity by Mr. Charles T. Brooks, the 
 translator of ' Faust' and ' Titan.' " — Evening Bulletin. 
 
 "Tho 'Jobsiad' is the German 'Hudibras.' The adventures of the 
 Swabian are quite as ridiculous as those of Butler's hero. The stylo is 
 free and easy, the humor quaint, the rhymes grotesque, and the whole 
 story amusing." — Sunday Dispatch. 
 
 " The lover of the quaint, the keen, and the laughable, the student of 
 human character and of natural and social peculiarities, will bo de- 
 lighted with this book. ... Its best touches are of the most pleasing 
 kind, and its sarcasm is never weakened by a defect of benevolence. 
 The true satirist must be a philanthropist; and this we feel that Dr. 
 Kortum is, through his most unique and original poem." — Lutheran. 
 
 " We can heartily commend this volume to every lover of genuine 
 humor." — Morning Chronicle. 
 
 " The verse, doggerel as it may be, is exquisitely comic, and so easily 
 retained, that we have no doubt many of the ' wise saws' of the Senator 
 and his son the student will speedily become popular." — Transcript. 
 
 " The 1 Jobsiad, or Adventures of Ilieronimus Jobs, the Candidate,' — 
 apart from the fact that it is a very quaint specimen of publishing, with 
 its antique text, mediaeval wood-cuts, and colored letter, — is a rare addi- 
 tion to our literature, happily translated as it has been from the origi- 
 nal of Kortum by Charles T. Brooks, the honest, tasteful, and ac- 
 complished enthusiast in the transfer of German classics to our own 
 language. He has had no more difficult, he has done no better, work 
 than the ' Jobsiad :' hitting upon the exact style, he has sustained it 
 skilfully to the end."— New Yorker. 
 
 " It has seldom been our lot to review a book containing such a large 
 fund of genuine comic humor as the one bearing the above title. It 
 has passed through ten editions of several thousand copies each, — which 
 well attests the high favor in which it is held in its native language. 
 The translator, Mr. Charles T. Brooks, who has also given us English 
 versions of ' Faust,' 1 Titan,' and other German works, has succeeded 
 admirably in retaining the rhyme and rhythm, with all the irresistible 
 drollery for which the original poem is remarkable. Mr. Frederick 
 Leypoldt, we doubt not, will be amply recompensed by a patronage 
 commensurate with the outlay and labor which the production of such 
 a work necessarily involves." — National Guard. 
 
 9 
 
New Publications. 
 
 " The book, which, as the translator well says, is so unique as to be 
 almost a genus by itself, was originally published in 1784, and has been 
 and still is very popular in Germany, having passed through many 
 editions. . . . The translator, Mr. Brooks, whose English versions of 
 German authors have placed him in thp front ranks of translators, has 
 performed in this instance a very formidable task with remarkable suc- 
 cess. The illustrations must be seen to be appreciated. Many of them 
 are capital imitations of that early age of art — or artlessness, to use a 
 common word in an uncommon sense — when perspective was un- 
 known." — Cincinnati Gazette. 
 
 " An exquisitely comical and fresh originality pervades the whole, 
 and tastes like fresh spring water, while it makes you burst out in one 
 of those hearty and loud peals of laughter which remind of childhood's 
 heart-free enjoyments, and which become doubly rare and dear as we 
 grow old and serious by too frequent contact with life's bitter sorrows. 
 There is such a healthy, human air breathing through the whole, that 
 it is a real treat to read it after the morbid, gloomy, world-weary, and 
 insipid literature which principally characterizes the present day. 
 You feel like a human being again — perhaps somewhat like a human 
 animal; but that is, after all, much better than to feel like a human 
 ghost, haunted and haunting. A whimsical strain gives additional 
 coloring to the story, and is especially observable in the wood-cuts 
 which adorn the book, and which we will guarantee will surprise the 
 reader. It would be folly to make extracts from this charming work. 
 It must be read whole. All who wish to enjoy a hearty laugh will 
 peruse it; nor can they well fail to derive instruction from it. The 
 book is gotten up in very fine style,— better than any German edition. 
 The translation is, as we have said, excellent." — Missouri Republican. 
 
 " It is a kind of German 1 Iludibras' in stanza, and yet not a ' Iludi- 
 bras' either, but rather a Spanish picaresque novel, or novel of roguery, 
 made terse and ethical by German good 6ense, and told in an original 
 kind of German doggerel. . . . 'The Jobsiad' is a really droll book, not 
 in the style of outrageous drollery, for there is never any wild or extra- 
 ordinary outbreak in it of the humorous geuius, and you are not re- 
 quired more than once or twice, as you read, to laugh outright, but in 
 the style of grave, dry, and, as the critic says, ' drastic,' drollery. . . . 
 Whoever cares to read 'The Jobsiad' has it here, we should say, with all 
 the relish that there can be in the original,— the dry drollery all kept, 
 and the effect of the queer doggerel well given, or even perhaps occa- 
 sionally improved by little quirks of expression and comical liberties 
 taken with English words and pronunciation in order to get at rhymes." 
 — Reader (London). 
 10 
 
New Publications". 
 
 Heinrich Heine's Pictures of Travel. 
 
 Translated by Charles G. Leland. Fourth revised 
 edition. 1 vol. 12mo. Cloth. Price, $1.50. 
 
 "The most poetic and specifically humorous of Heine's prose 
 writings is the '■Reisebilder.' "—Westminster Review. 
 
 "Those who wish for a single good specimen of Heine should 
 read his first important work, the work which made his reputa- 
 tion, the 'Reisebilder' (Pictures of Travel)." — Matthew Arnold 
 (Comhill Magazine). 
 
 " Mr. Leland's 'Pictures of Travel,' translated from the German 
 of Henry Heine, is an admirable rendering of the great wit's 'Pweise- 
 hilder,' in which the spirit of the original is given with a point and 
 elegance rarely equalled in English versions of German poetry 
 while the whole is singularly literal and exact." — Dr. R. W. Gris- 
 wold's "Poets and Poetry of America." 
 
 Heinrich Heine's Book of Songs. Trans- 
 lated by Charles Gr. Leland. 1 vol. 16mo. Printed 
 on tinted paper. Cloth. Price, $1.00. (In press.) 
 
 " His songs are all music and feeling." — Westminster Review. 
 "The magic of Heine's poetical form is incomparable."— Mattliew 
 Arnold. 
 
 Modern Essays. No. 1. Heinrich Heine. 
 
 By Matthew Arnold. 16mo. Price, 25 cents. 
 
 "Matthew Arnold's essays might be cited as among the best ex- 
 amples we have of real essay-writing amid the acres of twaddle 
 which assume the name." — The London Reader. 
 
 "The paper of the month (August, 1863) is a notice of Heinrich 
 Heine by Mr. Matthew Arnold, one of those exquisite morsels of 
 criticism, expressed in the clearest of words, which only he can 
 write." — London Athenceum. 
 
 The Art Principle and its Application 
 
 to the Teaching of Music. By Anna Jackson. 16nio. 
 Cloth. Price, 30 cents. 
 
 Baskerville. The Poetry of Germany. 
 
 Selections from the most celebrated Poets, translated 
 into English verse, with the original text on the op- 
 posite page. A new edition. 1 vol. 12mo. Bd. $1.75. 
 
 11 
 
New Publications. 
 
 Leypoldt's Foreign Library. 
 
 Vol. I. "Who Breaks— Pays." By the 
 
 author of "Cousin Stella," "Skirmishing," etc. 1 
 vol. lGino. Paper. Price, 50 cents. 
 
 " 'Who Breaks— Pays,' is a love tale, told with exquisite pathos 
 and poetry. There is a freshness and originality about the book 
 which give it a place among the standard works of the day." — 
 Publishers' Circular. 
 
 "The plot is managed with rare skill, and the frequent love 
 scenes are fresh and almost inimitable." — Cincinnati Gazette. 
 
 Vol. II. Im men-See. Grandmother and 
 
 Granddaughter. Two Tales from the German. 1 vol. 
 16mo. Price, 25 cents. 
 The same; on large (tinted) paper. Cloth. Price, 75 cts. 
 
 Vol. III. Skirmishing. By the author 
 
 of "Who Breaks — Pays," etc. 1 vol. 16mo. Paper. 
 Price, 30 and 50 cts. ; cloth, 75. 
 
 "The book is beautifully written. The persons of the story all 
 live and breathe ; we shake hands pleasantly with them, and some 
 of them become our dear friends." — Publishers' Circular. 
 
 " The story is graceful and charmiug, for the skill with which 
 the slight incidents are narrated, as well as the sweet, broad, loving 
 charity of heart that is inculcated." — London Athenceum. 
 
 " Here we have a real work of art, such as the weary critic has 
 seldom the pleasure of meeting with." — The Reader. 
 
 " 'Skirmishing' is as pretty a tale of English life as can well be 
 imagined, written with excellent taste and good feeling." — West- 
 minster Review. 
 
 Vol. IV. Fanchon the Cricket. From 
 
 the French of George Sand. By M. M. Hays. 1 vol. 
 16mo. Price, 50 cents. 
 
 Vol. V. Human Follies. By Jules de 
 
 Noriac. Translated from the 16th Paris edition by 
 George Marlow. 1 vol. lGmo. Price, 50 cents. 
 12 
 
New Publications. 
 
 A New Series of Standard Educational Works. 
 
 Soirees Litteraires. Causeriesde Salon. 
 
 Par Madame C. R. Corson (»<fe Rollin). 1 vol. 
 16mo. Cloth. Price, 65 cents. 
 
 L'Histoire de France. Racontee a, la 
 
 Jeunesse. Par M. Lame Fleuky. 1 vol. 16mo. Cloth. 
 Price, $1.25. 
 
 New Guide to Modern Conversation in 
 
 French and English. By Witcomb and Bellenger. 
 1 vol. 16mo. Cloth. Price, 65 cents. 
 
 Trois Mois sous la Neige. Journal d'un 
 
 Jeune Habitant du Jura. Par Jaques Porchat. 1 
 vol. 16mo. Cloth. Price, 65 cents. Ouvrage 
 couronne par PAcademie Franqaise. 
 
 Sadler's Exercises for Translating Eng- 
 lish into French ; or, Cours de Versions. First Ame- 
 rican from the fifteenth Paris edition. Annotated 
 and revised hy M. Gillette. 1 vol. 16mo. 
 
 Le Censeur ; or, English Errors in Speak- 
 ing French. First American from the third London 
 edition. 1 vol. 16mo. (7n Preparation.) 
 33=" This carefully edited Series is to be continued, and will offer, 
 in cheap, neat, and correct editions, the most approved Text-books 
 for the study of the French Language and Literature. 
 
 Landmarks of History. By Miss Yonge, 
 
 author of "The Heir of Redclyffe." 3 vols. 16mo. 
 
 I. Ancient History. First American 
 
 from the fifth London edition. Revised and enlarged 
 by Edith L. Chase. 1vol. 16mo. Cloth. Price, 75 cts. 
 
 II. Middle Ages. (In Preparation.) 
 
New Publications. 
 
 Latest Publications. 
 
 Schiller's Complete Works. Edited and 
 
 selected from the best translations, (Coleridge, Bulwer, 
 Mellish, and others,) by Charles J. Hempel. 2 vols, 
 large royal 8vo. Price, cloth, $5 ; half morocco, $6 50. 
 
 Chaucer's Legende of Goode Women. 
 
 Edited, with an Introduction and Notes, Glossarial 
 and Critical, by Hiram Corson. 16mo. Cloth. 
 
 In Preparation. 
 
 Musical Sketches. By Elise Polko. 
 
 Translated from the German by Fanny Fuller. On 
 tinted paper. 16mo. Cloth. Price $1.25. 
 
 Mendelssohn's Letters. From 1833 — 
 
 1847. Translated from the German by Lady Wallace. 
 16mo. 
 
 Wilhelm von Humboldt's Letters to a 
 
 Lady. With an Introduction by Charles G. Leland. 
 On tinted paper. 16mo. Cloth. Price $1. 
 
 Religious and Critical Essays of Ernest 
 
 Renan. Translated from the French by Rev. 0. B. 
 Frothingham. 
 
 Cherry and Violet. By the author of 
 
 "Mary Powell." 16mo. 
 
 The Good for Nothing. A Story of 
 
 Artist Life and Love. By Joseph Baron von Eichen- 
 dorff. Translated by Chas. G. Leland. 1 vol. 16mo. 
 
 Sibylle. From the French of Octave 
 
 Feuillet. By Fanny Fuller. 16mo. 
 
 Mademoiselle La Quintinie. From the 
 
 French of George Sand. By M. A. Baillot. 16mo.