281 

 CXCIX. 



HUMBOLDT TO VARNHAGEN. 



Berlin, 19th March, 1857. 

 At night. 



How could I deprive myself of the pleasure of 

 thanking you, dearest, most thoughtful, most at- 

 tached of all my friends ! Not alone indulgence, 

 no : expressions of praise have fallen to my lot in 

 respect of my address to Bockh praise for the form 

 and language it is clothed in, and that from the lips 

 of a master of language, and of delicately turned ex- 

 pressions of goodwill. You have given me much 

 pleasure ; more than you suspect. The nature 

 of my nervous complaint which caused a tem- 

 porary paralysis, leaving the functions of the brain 

 entirely unimpaired, pulse unchanged, sight pre- 

 served, and uninterrupted use of the limbs at will, 

 in perfect order has remained incomprehensible 

 to me. There are magnetic thunderstorms (the 

 Polar light), electrical storms in the clouds, nervous 

 storms in man, strong and weak ones, perhaps only 

 a mere sheet-lightning a forerunner of the other. 

 I have had grave thoughts of death : comme un homme 

 qui party ay ant encore beaucoup de lettres a ecrire. Other 

 interests that will ever remain alive in me fix my 

 thoughts on the recollections of yesterday ! ! I believe 

 myself in course of full recovery, but having had to 

 rest much unoccupied in my bed, sadness and discon- 

 tent with the world have increased in me. This I 

 say only to you. Soon I shall come to you and thank 



