424 HIS DEATH. 



I did not think my old eyes could shed so many tears. 

 It has now lasted eight days. 



" A. Y. HUMBOLDT." 



Three days passed, — three long and dreary days of 

 suffering and sorrow, and all was over. He died in his 

 brother's arms. 



" I had the misfortune to lose my brother the day be- 

 fore yesterday," Humboldt wrote to Arago, "and am 

 in the most profound grief. In great distress we think of 

 those dearest to us, and I feel a slight consolation in 

 writing to you. We saw him dying for six days. His 

 weakness had painfully increased during the last week ; a 

 continued trembling had shown itself in all his limbs, 

 but his mind had retained all its native vigor. He la- 

 boured ceaselessly, and leaves two almost finished works ; 

 one on the languages of the Indian archipelago, derived 

 from the Sanscrit ; the other, on the origin and philosophy 

 of languages in general. These works will be published. 

 My brother has left his manuscripts, his commenced 

 works, and his valuable collection of books, to the public 

 library. He died of an inflammation of the lungs, 

 watching, with painful sagacity, the progress of the dis- 

 ease. His was a high intellect, and his soul was full of 

 elevation and nobility. I feel very isolated." 



William Von Humboldt was buried on Palm Sunday. 

 At eleven o'clock the processiou started from the castle. 

 First came the hearse covered with crape and drawn by four 

 horses, followed by Alexander and William's children 

 and grand-children ; then a number of noble personages 

 from Berlin, Prince William, the King's brother, seve- 

 ral generals and statesmen, and a long train of scholars 



