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Letters of Alexander von Humboldt to Varnhagen von Ense. / From 1827 to 1858. With extracts from Varnhagen's diaries, and letters of Varnhagen and others to Humboldt cover

Letters of Alexander von Humboldt to Varnhagen von Ense. / From 1827 to 1858. With extracts from Varnhagen's diaries, and letters of Varnhagen and others to Humboldt

Chapter 222: 213. HUMBOLDT TO VARNHAGEN.
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About This Book

A curated correspondence collects letters from Alexander von Humboldt to his friend and confidant Varnhagen von Ense, supplemented by diary excerpts and letters from other contemporaries. The missives blend personal friendship with professional exchange, discussing scientific observations, lectures, manuscripts, travels, and reactions to peers and events. Editorial apparatus preserves original phrasing and provides contextual notes and extracts that illuminate relationships and chronology. The selection highlights the writer’s methods of observation, precise descriptive habits, and modes of intellectual collaboration. Together the documents form a compact portrait of an engaged scholar whose private reflections and public endeavors intersect across a wide range of topics.

213.
HUMBOLDT TO VARNHAGEN.

Berlin, June 30th, 1857.

I am at a loss for words to express to you, my honored friend, and to the amiable and brilliant artist and authoress, Ludmilla Assing, what pleasure you have provided for my solitude, by “Elisa von Ahlefeldt,” a pleasure still to be enjoyed by all who will deprive me of it for a few days. Who can read without emotion a fate so tender, so simple, told in such glowing language, by Miss Ludmilla; who can escape the most anxious reflections about the tortures of sentiment which the most noble and cultivated of mankind are skilled in inflicting on themselves about passion half-dogmatic in character, for the gratification of which the difficult institution of official marriage is inadequate. Elisa von Ahlefeldt loved Adolph von Luetzow, but only as the vigorous representative of a noble political sentiment. The motive for the disruption of the fetters, indelicate on his part, has something depressing. Immerman wishes to be loved, dreads the constraint of marriage, as Elisa does, but marries nevertheless!! The man who most occupies my thoughts in all these matters is Friesen, who worked so hard with me at the Mexican atlas in 1807, who was so dear to me, and to whom I was so much. I have mentioned him with tenderness in the Essai Politique sur la Nouvelle Espagne. Had I known the beautiful work of Miss Ludmilla, I would gladly have offered her a few lines. Her book, however, will go through many editions. As I am unfortunately compelled to go to Tegel for a night, I inquire, my dear friend, whether I may call upon you at three o’clock on Friday, and whether I may hope then to find Miss Ludmilla with you. So much skill in art and literary genius united in one and the same person is a rare luxury. It might lead to misfortunes. The course of the world refuses to admit of great exceptions to its compensatory system of pleasure and sadness.

Your
A. v. Humboldt.
Tuesday.

In great haste, and incorrect.

(Inclosed, a Letter from Friesen, of the year 1807, with this Superscription by Humboldt.)

A little gift for Miss Ludmilla Assing, the brilliant authoress of Elisa von Ahlefeldt, an autograph of my dear young friend Friesen, with sentiments of sincere thankfulness.

A. v. Humboldt.
June 30th, 1857.

Varnhagen’s diary of July 4, 1857, contains the following: “Yesterday Humboldt spoke of the time when he lived in a house at the side of George’s Garden, and was so assiduous in his magnetic observations that he once stinted himself of sleep for seven successive days and nights in order to examine the state of things every half hour; after that he changed the watch with substitutes. This was in 1807, just fifty years ago. I often saw the little house in which the experiments were made, when I visited Johannes von Mueller, who also lived in a house at the side of the same garden; or Fichte who lived in a garden house in the middle of the garden. When old George, a wealthy distiller, showed the garden to his friends, Humboldt went on to say, he never failed to boast of ‘his learned men.’ ‘Here I have the famous Mueller; there is Humboldt, and there is Fichte, but he is only a philosopher, I believe.’”