FRIDAY, _Sept. 13th, 1839_. Mr. Piaget has made a very favorable impression on me. In my opinion, he would be most useful as “Professeur de Litterature ou d’Histoire” at the “College Français.” A pedantic examination, however, stands in his way. I will try my best with Mr. von Werther. I have, however, some fear that the rather illiterate-looking mustaches, and the long, straight, South Sea hair, will be found a little odd in that quarter. Ever with the same attachment, A. V. HUMBOLDT. Is it not remarkable that the Neufchatel Councillors in the cabinet, have tried to dissuade Mr. Piaget—“par jalousie de métier?” 38. HUMBOLDT TO VARNHAGEN. BERLIN, _29th Dec., 1839_. It is kind in you, and very _humane_, dear friend, sending me that little pamphlet,[21] which otherwise would certainly have escaped my attention. The praise which you bestow on it is of great weight, as you understand so well sketching a life-portrait and adorning it gracefully, without discoloring its characteristic traits. Kries is one of my earliest friends. We were students together in Heyne’s Seminary.[22] I will return the print very soon. In great haste, A. HUMBOLDT. 39. HUMBOLDT TO VARNHAGEN. WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON, _Feb. 26th, 1840_. I deem myself unfortunate, dear friend, in having missed you. I have been suffering from a miserable little boil on my foot, and went to-day (for the first time) to my neighbor, Leopold von Buch. Best thanks for Sesenheim.[23] You certainly were right in snatching the little work from oblivion, a work which possesses a German character in the highest degree, and derives a tender interest from your preface. There is in this little work a nice appreciation of what must ever be important and sacred to a German in his literature. The author searches Sesenheim and Drusenheim as others do the Troade. The proper names, alas! are less poetic. The passages (p. 12 and 13), are written in a charming style; afterwards the philologist becomes heavy and doubtful about what he only half examined; doubtful, as if he had superficially read an old code. Whether the sisters of Friederike, “of whom one has not to care at all” (p. 48), whether the Catholic clergyman who, according to some, caused, and according to others, did not cause, and then did cause her fall, will rejoice at all this, I do not dare myself to decide. About the Troade and the Skamander, they never could exactly determine, and Helen had to suffer much from Hellenic gossip. In old friendship most gratefully,