How should I deny myself the pleasure to thank you, the dearest, ablest, and most attached of my friends. Not indulgence—no, praising expressions on my address to Boeckh—a praise of form, of the vesture of thought—has been my lot from the lips of the master of language, and of the delicate turns of good-will. You caused me great joy, more than you anticipated. What my nervous affection was, which produced a paralysis of such short duration, with the functions of the brain remaining entirely free, with pulse unchanged, with preservation of sight, and of all motion of the extremities subject to will, I cannot divine. There are magnetic storms (the polar light), electric storms in the clouds, nervous storms in man, heavy and light ones—perhaps, also, sheet lightning, _foreboding_ the others. I had serious thoughts of death, _comme un homme qui part, ayant encore beaucoup de lettres à écrire_. Other interests, which for ever remain alive in me, bind me to the memories of yesterday!! I believe myself in full convalescence; but as I had to rest much on the bed without occupation, sadness and displeasure of the world have increased in me. This I say to you alone. I shall soon come to you, and thank you orally from the depths of my soul. All around us puts us to shame. In most intimate friendship, your most faithful A. V. HUMBOLDT. Varnhagen writes in his diary, March 19th, 1857: “Unexpectedly a letter from Humboldt! I had written under my congratulation, that these lines were not so immodest as to expect an answer. But he, nevertheless answers, and in the most obliging, most heart-gladdening manner. He gives a remarkable report of his sickness. The bad reports were all untrue, at least exaggerated; he never lost consciousness or language, his pulse remained as usual. Yet he did not conceal from himself, that it might be the end.” “I had serious thoughts of death, comme un homme qui part, ayant encore beaucoup de lettres à écrire!” Grand and fine is what he adds: “Other interests, which remain for ever alive in me, bind me to the memories of yesterday!! (of the 18th of March!)[92] I believe myself in full convalescence, but as I had to rest much on the bed without occupation, sadness and displeasure with the world have increased in me. This I say to you alone.” 200. HUMBOLDT TO VARNHAGEN. BERLIN, _April 6th, 1857_.