462 NOT A RUIN BUT A PYRAMID. 



which he had granted me had expired. Seifert at length 

 reappeared, and said to him, in a manner at once respect- 

 ful and familiar, 'It is time,' and I took my leave. 



" l You have travelled much, and seen many ruins,' 

 said Humboldt, as he gave me his hand again ; ' now 

 you have seen one more !' ' Not a ruin,' I could not 

 help replying, ' but a pyramid.' For I pressed the 

 hand which had touched those of Frederick the Great, 

 of Forster, the companion of Captain Cook, of Klop- 

 stock and Schiller, of Pitt, Napoleon, Josephine, the 

 Marshals of the empire, Jefferson, Hamilton, Wieland, 

 Herder, Goethe, Cuvier, Laplace, Gay Lussac, Bee- 

 thoven, Walter Scott, in short of every great man whom 

 Europe has produced for three-quarters of a century. I 

 looked into the eyes which had not only seen this living 

 history of the world pass by, scene after scene, till the 

 actors retired one b}^ one, to return no more, but had 

 beheld the cataract of Atures and the forests of the 

 Cassiquiare, Chimborazo, the Amazon, and Popoca- 

 tepetl, the Altaian Alps of Siberia, the Tartar steppes, 

 and the Caspian sea. Such a splendid circle of experi- 

 ence well befits a life of such generous devotion to sci- 

 ence; I have never seen so sublime an example of old 

 age, crowned with imperishable success, full of the 

 ripest wisdom, cheered and sweetened by the noblest 

 attributes of the heart. A ruin, indeed ! A human 

 temple, perfect as the Parthenon. 



" As I was passing out through the cabinet of Natural 

 History, Seifert's voice arrested me; 'I beg your par- 

 don, Sir,' said he; 'but do you know what this is?' 

 pointing to the antlers of a Eocky Mountain elk. ' Of 

 course I do,' said I ; ' I have helped to eat many of 



