A Beautiful Letter.

Death of Leopold de Buch.—The intimate of Humboldt.—The following is a translation of a letter from the veteran Baron Alex Humboldt to Sir Roderick Murchisos. It conveys intelligence which will be heard with great regret in the scientific world:

“Berlin, Friday, March 4, 1858

“That I should be destined—I, an old man of eighty-three—to announce to you, dear Sir Roderick, the saddest news that I could have to convey:—to you for whom M. De Buch professed a friendship so tender—and to the admirers of his genius, his vast labors, and his noble character.

Leopold De Buch was taken from us this morning by typhoid fever—so violent in its attack that two days only of danger warned us.

He was at my house so lately as the 26th (ult.) despite the snow and the distance between us—talking geology with the most lively interest.

That evening he went into society; and on Sunday and Monday (the 27th and 28th) he complained of a feverish attack, he believed to be caused by a chilblain swelling from which he had suffered for years.

The inflammation required the application of leeches,—but the pain and the fever increased.

He was speechless for thirty-eight hours. * * * He died surrounded by his friends—most of whom knew nothing of his danger till Wednesday evening, the 24 of March.

He and I were united by a friendship of sixty-three years—a friendship which never knew interruption.

I found him in 1691, in Werner’s house in Freiburg, when I entered the School of Mines.

We were together in Italy, in Switzerland, in France —four months in Saltzburg. M. De Buch was not only one of the great illustrations of his age—He was a man of noble soul.

His mind left a track of light wherever it passed.

Always in contact with Nature herself—he could have boast of having extended the limits of geological science.

I grieve for him profoundlywithout him I feel desolate.

I consulted him as a master; and his affection (like that of Gay Lussac and that of Arago, who were also his friends) sustained me in my labors.

He was four years my junior—and nothing forewarned me of this misfortune.

It is not at the distance of a few hours only from such a loss, that I can say more respecting it.

Pity me—and accept the homage of my profound respect and affectionate devotion.

Alex. Humboldt.