How could I be, my dear friend, otherwise than alive to the duty of thanking you at once for your precious gift, and for the affectionate souvenir of one whose life is gradually vanishing? I know nothing more graceful in composition, in sympathy of conception, in elegance of language, and in appropriate scenic surroundings, than your “_Lebensbilder_,” which serve at the same time as correct commentaries upon all the valuable literature of our time. How generous you are when you mention me, and even my most insignificant words! I have often followed you through the three volumes, over those beaten, but still delightful paths; but nothing pleases me more in this “sylva sylvarum” than your dignified and just remarks on the historical blunder as to the “truly Germanic” distinction of political classes, ii., p. 256–272. You will observe that my political “ire” is still the same; that I am always very much attached to this life, having learned from you that, according to Kant’s doctrine, there is not much to boast of after our dissolution. “The budding twig starting up in the regions of northern empires” (I am satirical now) has been but poorly acclimated; and I have little time to spare, having already waited fifty-three years.... The Germans will yet have to _write_ many more books on liberty. The card-playing man—ii., p. 157—will again cause some excitement in the environs of my “hill.” I believe I have discovered some “moderation,” which, however, one does not like to mention. The words, “that miserable fellow,” are no longer heard. You see how much I love to read your writings—and not through fear. A. V. H. We have not yet talked of Custine’s book. The first volume is an eloquent and sprightly description (of dramatic scenes), and is the best done. What a startling effect such a book must have, even on those who detest justifying themselves. “Il y a des longueurs de déclamations,”—something of rhetorical blackening, which is tiresome. I find the publication of the hypertragical letter (of Princess Trubetzkoi) very wrong. Were it not for the irritation necessarily caused by the publication of this letter, we might have looked for some salvation from a new petition. What justification is there for risking so much, even for murder? I am also disgusted by the worship of those literary trifles by Mad. de Girardin and Mad. Gay. Such worship could, perhaps, be allowed in a beautiful Grand-Duchess. That the “Saint-Simonism” was invented by a Prussian business-man, amuses me very much. As it concerns Königsberg, I will keep it secret. 74. HUMBOLDT TO THE PRINCE OF PRUSSIA. BERLIN, _Dec. 29, 1843_. YOUR ROYAL HIGHNESS: