Please excuse, like a philosopher, the writing on this mutilated sheet.
I am in such a hurry that I have mistaken the address.
105.
HUMBOLDT TO VARNHAGEN.
BERLIN, _January 25th, 1846_.
After an official feeding, at court, of the “knights of the peace,”
whose unworthy chancellor I am—after some sorrowful hours at Buelow’s,
whose state becomes every day more precarious—after a ball at the
Chateau, from which I am just returned, I cannot seek repose without
sending you my preliminary thanks for your ecclesiastical gifts. I am
delighted at the review of a poetical period, the precursor of a nobler
one—or, to speak more correctly, of one more pregnant with life. I will,
however, turn away from the long “Ode of Grief,” from “The Blue and the
Black Eyes,” from “Besser’s Merry Wig,” and recur with new pleasure to
your “Zinzendorf.” This is a grand, well-executed life-sketch, a figure
towering above all other things, which, in a different direction,
attract the interest of our time. _Your_ “Zinzendorf” was also
constantly admired by my brother. How much the interest is enhanced by
all that we see or rather expect to see! But where, among the
intellectual “glaciers” of the present time, are those who could compare
themselves with Zinzendorf, Lavater, and Stilling?...
Most gratefully yours,
A. HUMBOLDT.