Correct freely, my friend; I gladly follow where I can. Some not very common erudition I intend to banish to the notes. This book should be the reflex of my own self, of my life, of my own very old person. This freedom of treatment enables me to proceed more aphoristically. More will be suggested than elaborated. Much will be well understood by those only who know thoroughly one special branch of natural history; but I think my style is such as to confuse no one, not even the superficial. My real aim is to hover over those results which are known in 1841. _Mens agitat molem_, may the mind still be there! That such a work cannot be finished by one born in the comet-year, 1769, is as clear as daylight. The separate fragments will appear in parts of twelve to fifteen sheets each, so that those who may see me buried will possess in each fragment some one subject complete. Thus of the “Prolegomena,” there will be No. 1–4; My “incentive,” descriptive poetry, which you have not yet seen, is a chief feature of the work on which I rely a good deal.—No. 5. The history of man’s conception of the world, which is quite finished, will form the entire second book. Plain scientific description will always be intermingled with the oratorical, like nature itself. The glittering stars fill us with joy and inspiration, yet in the canopy of heaven all bodies revolve in mathematical figures. It is essential to preserve a dignified style, so that the impression of nature’s greatness will not be wanting. I hope you will not find fault with my quoting (C) in a note the passage from Shakespeare which is but little known. All the notes are to be printed in very small type at the end of each chapter, never at the bottom of the page. I had said that a knowledge of nature is not absolutely necessary to enjoy it, but that it increases the enjoyment. Pardon this hasty writing. I leave to-morrow morning with the King for Potsdam, to stay there six or seven days. With thanks and friendship, your illegible A. V. HUMBOLDT. 55. HUMBOLDT TO SPIKER. (C.) [_Biron speaks to the King of Navarre._] “These earthly godfathers of heaven’s lights, That gave a name to every fixed star, Have no more profit of their shining nights, Than those that walk, and wot not what they are, Too much to know, is to know nought but fame; And every godfather can give a name.” SHAKESPEARE, _Love’s Labor Lost_. Act I. Scene 1.