WILLIAM HUMBOLDT'S LETTERS TO A FEMALE

FRIEND.*

IT i5 possible that a book like this might have been written in England, but unlikely that it should have been publislmd. There are, no doubt, English men and women who might have felt and expressed the senti- ment of a respectable " Werter, ' but the Charlotte would hardly have printed the correspondence. The story of it is as follows.

When William Humboldt was in his twenty-first year, (1788,) and a student at the celebrated University of Gottingen, he indulged in a brief holyday at the baths of Pyrmont. There he met a clergyman and his daughter : the daughter, it appears, was then betrothed ; but that did not prevent a sentimental flirtation. They walked together, they talked to gether, they sat next each other at the table d'hote, and made a recipro- cal impression. The Reverend Dr. Stebbing, in his introduction to the selection he edites, says—" It was not passion, it was not what is com- monly called love, which had been awakened in their hearts. If such a thing be possible between two such people, it was friendship of the high- est and most intellectual character, just modified by incipient affection." We should incline to ascribe it to that kindly, impressionable, but rather lax nature, which in England we curtly call German sentimentalism. Unless the Baron indulged in a little gallantry, when, on the shady side of forty, he wrote in answer to Charlotte's first address to him, some quarter of a century after their meeting, it would seem that Charlotte's betrothed and future husband had a narrow escape from being jilted. " Vienna, November 3, 1511.

"I this morning received your letter of 18th October, and cannot express to you how much your remembrance has touched and gladdened me. I have always regarded our meeting at Pyrmont as a wonderful ordination of Fate, and you are much mistaken if you think you passed over me like a mere fugitive youthful apparition. I thought of you very often, and inquired after you frequently, but always fraitleasly. I believed you were married, and fancied you surrounded by children, and moving in a circle where you had lung since forgotten me, and that I alone had had the recollection of those youthful days. I now learn that life has been to you a very chequered scene. Had you written to me at the time your sufferings were at the height, perhaps my answers might have been of ser- vice to you. Believe me, dear Charlotte—(do not be offended at this familiar epithet, since these tellers will be read by none but ourselves)—human beings cannot confide too much in each other. 1 learn now for the first time, and from Letters of William Von Humboldt to a Female Friend. A complete Witten; Translated from the Second German Edition, by Catherine M. A. Conner, Author of " Visits to Beechwood Farm." "Lucy's Half-Crown," &c. With a Biographical Notice of the writer. In two volumes. Published by John Chapman.

Letters to a Lady. By the Baron Wilhelm Von Humboldt. From the German. With en Introduction by Dr. Stebbing. Published by Bali and Virtue., yourself, that I made a deeper impression on you at that time than I had imagined. Those lines of my own, [written in the lady's album, and enclosed in the letter sent to him,) which I see again after such a lapse of time, are like a voice from another world. " * • You are very wrong when you say that certain impres- sions are deeper and, more lasting in the mind of woman. I could prove the con- trary to you from your own letter. Are you willing to allow, for it can be no reproach, (twenty years have passed since the period of our acquaintance, and we shall probably never see each other again,) that I nearly disappeared from your memory when I left you? At least you did not remind me of my promise to visit you again; the neglect of which has often greatly mortified me—I could still indeed point out the seat in the alley where it was made: but a feeling of youthful pedantry, which made me think it impossible I could delay for a week longer my return to Gottingen, prevented me. This is to me a certain proof that it was not intended we should meet again; and what grieves me most is, that I was not destined to impart any lasting joy to your life. Sad or painful feelings (of this be convinced) could have no connexion with any intercourse held with me. I am open to no reproach of the kind. To what extent your fate has in- terested me, after such a disclosure, you may easily suppose. I have thought over it today in many ways: and I entreat of you to resign yourself for a time into my hands—to follow blindly my counsel"

At the time Wilhelm Von Humboldt was writing thus, he was a mar-

ried man with a number of children ; it is said, devotedly attached to his wife, who lived some fifteen years after this effusion, and whose death, it is also said, hastened his own. His fancy as to the lady's "children" was inaccurate, but she had been married in the year following the eventful meeting at Pyrmont, and in five years afterwards was left a widow, with a sufficient fortune. This fortune, however, was lost by a nolens-volens loyal loan to the Duke of Brunswick, during the disastrous days that followed the battle of Jena and the French domination in Germany. Without in- come, in middle age, and with broken health, the lady bethought her of her youthful companion at the baths of Pyrmont. He had now become. famous, and more so in politics than in literature. He had risen to diplo- matic eminence ; he bad even signed the capitulation of Paris, as one of the representatives of Prussia ; and he was present at Vienna in the same capacity. Charlotte therefore wrote to him, in a style in which sentiment and business were happily blended ; the sentiment being skilfully ad- dressed to a man who had reached the turning of forty-five. Humboldt could do nothing as regarded the money, but he answered in the gal- lant manner we have seen, and what was more to the purpose, in a friendly spirit : lie insisted on furnishing the lady with a year's income till she could rally; and the correspondence he began in 1814 continued till William Humboldt's death, in 1835; two interviews only, and those casual, having taken place between the parties. These letters were che- rished by her to whom they were addressed, as the charm of her existence; and she determined that after her death they should not be lost to the public—at least about half of them ; the others were withheld, "as touch- ing on matters of too confidential a nature to admit of their being given to the world without a species of desecration." None of the lady's part in the correspondence appears, or her autobiography, (of which a large portion of the writing on her part seems to have consisted,) except when occasionally necessary as illustrations of Humboldt's text.

The letters are not always very solid or remarkable in their matter, speaking absolutely. The interest lies in the circumstances under which they were written, and the character of their sentiments and style. Here is a gentleman deeply engaged in literature and philosophy, with a wife and family to claim his leisure, beginning a correspondence with his "dearest Charlotte," calling for her autobiography, and infusing into every topic —whether descriptive, narrative, practical, literary, Scriptural, or miscel- laneous—a sentinent, tender, romantic, and philosophical. It is a singular example, not of the power of memory, hope, and imagination : something like Humboldt's feelings may exist in many minds from the remembrance

Of times " when we

Are young, and fix our eyes on every face: And oh I the loveliness at times we see In momentary gliding, the soft grace, The youth, the bloom, the beauty, which agree In many a nameless being we retrace; Whose course and home we know not, nor shall know, Like the lost Pleiad, seen no more below."

The wonder is, the firmness of Humboldt's impression when the reality had superseded romance, and the fertility and industry which enabled him to find topics and time for a correspondence whose origin could only have had a sentimental basis, and its continuance no object beyond the gratification of a sentiment. Perhaps it was-" distance lent enchantment to the view "; had he constantly met Charlotte, his feeling might have cooled or changed.

Besides the curious attraction we have spoken of, there is an autobio- graphical interest in the letters, not as regards the lady but William Humboldt. In writing to her, he seems to have thought on paper, and to have made any topic that came before him a subject for the expression of his own inward feelings on it, and sometimes facts connected with his own life. The delicate subject of Charlotte's marriage is a text on which he talks thus, at fifty-seven.

" You had told me before that when I became acquainted with you at Pyrmont you were engaged to be married, but that the engagement was not publicly de- clared. I was much surprised at this; I had not the slightest idea of it when we met. The manner in which this connexion was formed has certainly something very peculiar and remarkable. But whatever may be said and thought on such occasions, it certainly appears, as you very justly remark, that an eternal destiny governs the connexion of events, so that no one can avoid the fate which is to pre- pare him for his higher destination,. upon which it properly speaking depends. I am quite of your opinion; that it is not to be supposed that Providence should vouchsafe to care for what we call happiness and misery. Depressing as this may appear at first sight, it is at the same-time elevating to think that we are esteem- ed of a higher improvement. There is an extraordinary chain of events in such destinies as yours began so early to be.- Even when we are not urged on by others, and cannot clearly say what impulse urges ns on, we may yet approach -an object, or draw a destiny upon ourselves, whilst we have almost a feeling that at would have been better to have repelled it It really appears that you have done less to involve yourself in the fate which was prepared for you, than_ that you. have borne it for the love of your friend, and have not struggled against it. The case is very common in which, without any inclination or even in opposition to inolieation, from a variety of reasona,,suolt connexions are entered inkewith feel. ings which in themselves are certainly notblameworthy, but which should not be the leading ones in such a step. This is hardly conceivable to me. According to my mode of thinking, it would be quite impossible to entertain an idea of such a connexion, unless I had the assured conviction that the one to whom I Wag to be united was the only one with whom I could enter into such an engagement. The thought of marriage contracted in a very good and amiable manner, with mutual regard and friendship, but without that deep feeling pervading the whole being which is generally called love, was always objectionable to me, and it would be in opposition to my whole nature to act in such a manner. It is certainly true, that only in marriages entered into in the way I describe, do the feelings remain the same till death, with those modifications only which are necessarily indaced by age and circumstances: at the same time, it is as well that this view of things is not common, as then there would be few marriages. So many marriages also are prosperous which in the beginning do not promise well, that much cannot bo said against them. In your case, it was evidently consideration for your friend that guided you; and this was no doubt a noble feeling arising from the best and purest emotions of the human heart. But it frequently happens that the hest, the noblest, and most self-sacrificing feelings, are those which lead to unfortunate destinies."

Something supernatural would seem to have attended Charlotte's marriage ; which we must conclude was not of the happiest. The pas- sage is singular as giving Humboldt's idea of the spiritual world.

" The history of the ghost-like warning is very wonderful: it would be so to you at the moment when you first signified your consent to a union which in- volved you in infinite suffering; still more wonderful too was it as an announce- ment of the death of your mother.

" It cannot be denied that you did really hear yourself called. It is equally certain that no mortal man called you, in the entirely secluded solitude in which you heard the warning voice. In pourselfyou heard the voice which appeared to you to strike your external ear, and in you the voice resounded. There are no doubt many who would explain this as self-delusion; who think that a man may, in a natural manner and without any contact of the earthly with the spiritual, but merely through an inward emotion which affects his mind, his imagination, his blood itself, believe that he perceives something external to himself. That it may be so, and sometimes is so, I cannot deny, nor that with certain men in cer- tain circumstances it has been otherwise. You say that you have latterly adopted the opinion which is laid down by Jung-Stilling in his Theory of the Doctrine of Spirits, (I have not read the work,) that those who have gone before us, being possessed of clearer powers of mental vision, encompassing us with love, and often wishing to protect us, seek to make themselves known to us for the purposes of warning; and that in order to effect a deeper impression upon us, they avail them- selves of some significant and-important event; whence it arises that they are able to place themselves en rapport with us; and this depends upon the degree in which the spiritual condition is free from the influences of the external senses. In this free condition, into which no one can bring himself at will, you perhaps be- lieve yourself to have been, in that frame of mind when, setting aside all ordinary considerations, you wrote down the conclusions at which you had arrived. These remarks of yours have been deeply thought over and felt, Undoubtedly there is a quiet, mysterious presence, not comprehended by earthly senses, which surrounds us without our being aware of it; and why should not this veil be raised for a moment and give a transient view of what in this life leaves no perceptible trace? You were here in a moment warned how you should write down a thought till now known only to yourself; to make one stroke of the pen which should involve your life in many unhappy embarrassments: you were warned by the voice which was soon to be no more, and, as you remark, in order to lead you more certainly to reflect upon it, the precise moment was significantly marked; for your mother died a week afterwards at that very moment. Manifestly it was not of this world. It was one of those signs which are sometimes, though seldom, made to us from a region separated from us during this life by an impassable gulf I thank you very much that you have not omitted mention of this."

The following contains some deep and just reflections on friendship, love, and marriage, well expressed ; the colouring of the style appropriate to the nature of the theme.

"You must be about four years younger than myself; but I now remember that I am not accurately acquainted with the year of your birth. Send me this information once again. I always consider it a matter of importance to know accurately the age of those I like, especially when they are female friends. I entertain peculiar opinions upon this subject, and prefer women of more advanced years to the more youthful: even external charms, in my opinion, continue to exist much longer than is generally allowed to be the case- and those mental qualities which particularly delight us are decidedly heightened by years. " I never desired at any period of my life to hold a near position either to agirl or woman much younger than myself; least of all could I have married under such circumstanees. I am convinced that such marriages are not usually pro- ductive of happiness: they generally lead the man to treat his wife as a child; and whenever there exists much discrepancy in point of age, it is impossible that that freedom of intercourse should take place which tends to the mental eleva- tion and happiness of both parties, or that that pure stream of thought and senti- ment should flow between them which peculiarly constitutes all that is blissful in the intercourse betwixt the two sexes. Equality of mind is indispensably necessary in the married state ; and the man can only expect to find happiness in this condition when the wife, as far as the powers of her nature will permit, and yet with the full independence of womanhood, yielder to hie opinions and re- cognizes his will as her own.--But I have departed from the subject of your narrative.

" It was a very peculiar, but, in the innocence of a progressing mind not yet unfolded to itself, a very natural and praiseworthy state of heart, which led you most ardently to desire to possess a friend, to the exclusion of every other wish. In this we recognize clearly the difference between love and friendship: both equally consist of that life of the soul, Under the influence of which two persons meeting each other, and appearing individually to give up their existence the one to the other, yet receive it back again in a brighter and purer form. A man must possess some external object to which he can attach himself, upon which he may work with all the collected powers of his existence. But although this inclina- tion is common to all, yet it is the privilege of the sensitive and highly-cultivated soul alone, to feel the desire, the aspiration after true friendship and true love. Minds less delicately constituted, or blunted by the world, form but transitory and changing attachments ; they never attain to the tranquillity which results from a perfect exchange of sympathy. Viewed in reference to each other, love and friendship, under every form and circumstance, differ in this respect, that the former is always coloured with sensuality: but this does not militate against its excellence, for even a sensual inclination may comprehend within itself the greatest purity. Love originates in the very soul, and changes the nature of all things subjected to its unspotted brightness. In young girls who have never once recognized the emotion of love, much less arrived at the consciousness of its existence 111 themselves, it is nevertheless this emotion which lies veiled under the guise of friendship: these two feelings are not yet clearly and definitely separately; but as womanhood approaches every emotion passes insensibly into that of love. Even friendship, as it exists between two persons of the same sex, is at this period of life more energetic, more passionate, more yielding and sacrificing ; and although at a more advanced age friendship may lead us to perform the same actions, yet atilt; early stage of life it manifests itself differently,--the tone, of the emotion LI more glowing, the soul is more thoroughly,penetrated, and it shines

thnough it with a dearer and warmer light. This was certainly your case at that tune, dear Charlotte, in reference to your friend.

"I desire very much that you should continue your narrative. I perceive no difficulties standing in the way of the completion of the first part; het after a time, serious events, and to some extent sad and heavy trials, have to be nar- rated. Here, dear Charlotte, I leave it wholly for your own emotions to decide whether you can proceed further with the subject. It must depend completely epea yourself whether you can bear to awaken memories which, although they belong to a time long since pee by, may nevertheless still give you pain. Take care of yourself; believe, indeed, that this is necessary for my mental tranquillity. I am often much afraid that you exert yourself too much in your occupations; I would fain have it otherwise. Now farewell, dear Charlotte, and believe me

yours unchangeably and devotedly,. H." The subject of marriage, especially of marriages of convenience or sacrifice, is well continued here.

Is happens now much less frequently than formerly that young persons are compelled to marry those who are by no means the objects of their choice. This leads me to think that the world is much better, more gentle and more just. We then for the first time learn to elevate ourselves above external circumstances and conditions, when weeome to know how to secure internal happiness; and although it sometimes happens that, to obtain this end, false and deceptive courses are pur- sued, yet on the whole mach is gained by this justice and mildness, by this re- cognition of the freedom of the person to decide, whose future life is involved in the decision.

" Under compulsory circumstances, nothing can be worse than the adoption of a resolution similar to that formed by your friend, namely, to enter upon a new engagement without renouncing a previously-formed connexion. When this is the case, although the purest-sacrifice may he made and the greatest morality ob served, yet it is an unnatural state of heart; it is a union which can never receive that spiritual blessing without which nothing thrives. You think that the second marriage did not secure to her the expected amount of happiness; and this can scarcely ever fail to be the case. The first charm of an early love, formed in ac- cordance with one's desires, which does not hastily pass away, but unites with every emotion, giving happiness to all, is blunted by deferred hope; it forms for itself a picture in the distance, which after a time ceases to correspond with trath. Union with a man under circumstances wanting in all that belongs to the married state necessarily implants a thorn in the heart, which continues to exist even when the grave has received him, and when lie no longer has it in his power to excite disquieting emotions. Thus that internal tranquillity fails without which no happiness can exist."

These extracts will sufficiently indicate the tone and style of the work; but they can convey no idea of its variety of topics, which embrace what- ever "cornea uppermost," and possess considerable biographical in- terest, often mingled with sensible reflections on life. Of the two publi- cations before us, the best, of course, is Catherine Cooper's, in the two volumes published by Mr. Chapman ; as it is a translation of the whole of the letters, illustrations, and explanations, as left by the lady for publication. The selection edited by the Reverend Dr. Stebbing—or rather the portion, for it stops at the year 1825—is a much cheaper and more unpretending affair ; but it may give a sufficient idea of the nature of this curiosity of literature.