470 IN THE STREETS OF BERLIN. 



known. His house in the Oranienburger-strasso was, as 

 we have said, in the neighbourhood of the palace, to 

 which he went daily when the King was in Berlin. All 

 the inhabitants of the city, men, women, and children, 

 knew his slender figure and white hair. lie walked 

 with a firm but slow step, with his head bent on his 

 breast. His dress was simple, a plain black suit, without 

 ribands or orders, and he had the Napoleonic habit of 

 carrying his hands behind him. His eye was generally 

 fixed on the ground, but he alwaj-s noticed and returned 

 the greetings of the citizens. He was as much at home 

 in the street, as in his own private study, for the passers- 

 by stepped softly aside for fear of disturbing his thoughts ; 

 the poorest working-man gazed after him as he passed, 

 and whispered to his comrade or neighbour : " There 

 goes Humboldt." 



Often in the summer twilight the old man was seen 

 wending his way to the beautiful avenue — Unter den 

 Linden. A few minutes' walk from his house brought 



o 



him to Frederic's-strasse, and the bridge that crossed the 

 Spree, and a few minutes more to Unter den Linden, 

 which was crowded with promenaders. L^p and down 

 the avenue of lime trees, now in shadow and now in 

 sunshine, the figure of the old man moved, his hands 

 behind him, and his head drooping on his breast. Of 

 what is he thinking as he walks there in the mellow 

 twilight? Of Chimborazo and Cotopaxi, or the dreary 

 wastes of Central Asia ? Or of the yet unwritten volume 

 of "Kosmos?" Perhaps he dreams of his early da}^s, 

 the far off golden time when he was a boy at Tegel. 

 Let the old man dream, ye gay promenaders ! Disturb 

 him not with your laughter; let him not hear 3 T our foot- 



