O GOOD GRAY HEAD. 457 



also in the constant habit of using English.' He insisted 

 on my taking one end of the green sofa, observing that 

 he rarely sat upon it himself, then drew up a plain cane- 

 bottomed chair and seated himself beside it, asking me 

 to speak a little louder than usual, as his hearing was not 

 so acute as formerly. 



" As I looked at the majestic old man, the line of Ten- 

 nyson describing Wellington came into my mind : 



( good gray head, which all men knew.' 



The first impression made by Humboldt's face is that of 

 a broad and genial humanity. His massive brow, heavy 

 with the gathered wisdom of nearly a century, bends 

 forward, and overhangs his breast, like a ripe ear of 

 corn, but as you look below it, a pair of clear blue eyes, 

 almost as bright and steady as a child's, meet your own. 

 In those eyes you read that trust in man, that immortal 

 youth of the heart, which make the snows of eighty 

 seven Winters lie so lightly upon his head. You trust 

 him utterly at the first glance, and you feel that he will 

 trust you, if you are worthy of it. I had approached him 

 with a natural feeling of reverence, but in five minutes I 

 found that I loved him, and could talk with him as freely 

 as with a friend of my own age. His nose, mouth, and 

 chin, have the heavy Teutonic character, whose genuine 

 type always expresses an honest simplicity and direct- 

 ness. 



"I was almost surprised by the } T outhful character of 

 his face. I knew that he had been frequently indisposed 

 during the present year, and had been told that he was 

 beginning to show the marks of his extreme age ; but I 



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