AIME BONPLAND. Berlin, 12th July, 1858. —Aware of the deep sympathy felt for me by many of my friends, in my great distress at the death of my beloved, noble friend and travelling companion, Bonpland, I have considered it my duty to publish at any rate a short preliminary communication on the subject, for which I am indebted to the friendly zeal of Dr. Lallemant (author of an important work on the diseases of Europeans in tropical climates). This accomplished man thinking thereby to give me pleasure after leaving the Imperial Austrian Expedition on board the frigate Novara, undertook a journey in February last from Rio Janeiro to Rio Grande, and from thence by Porto Alegre and the former Jesuit Missions, to San Borja, where he erroneously supposed that Bonpland was still residing, as he had since the year 1831. I am in possession of two letters of Dr. Lallemant, one from San Borja, on the Uruguay, dated the 10th of April—another written from the Villa de Uruguaiana, on the 19th of April 1858, after having conversed with Bonpland at Santa Anna:— ‘Whilst at San Borja,’ writes Dr. Lallemant, ‘I resided with an intimate friend of Bonpland, the vicar Gay, in whose company I visited the formerly well-kept garden of the botanist, but which is now desolate and overgrown. M. Gay had received the last letter from Bonpland towards the end of the year 1857. Subsequently news was received of his serious illness. Letters written with a view to learn the state of his health remained unanswered, and in spite of the short distance it was still uncertain at San Borja whether I should find your travelling companion alive. Bonpland had left San Borja in the year 1853, to reside on his larger estate at Santa Anna, where he long occupied himself in cultivating orange trees of his own planting. The residence of the old man of science (in the Estancia of Santa Anna) consists of two large cottages, the mud walls of which are secured by bamboo poles and a few beams on the thatch. Both cottages have doors, but no windows, as the light is admitted by the crevices between the bamboo supports of the wall. I was received in a hearty and friendly manner. In spite of the deep lines which a stirring life had imprinted upon the beloved countenance, the eye was still piercing, clear, and full of expression. Spirited conversation, commenced by himself, seemed to weary him much, and he suffered much from chronic rheumatism of the bladder. The privations which he so wonderfully imposes on himself are not in consequence of want or necessary retrenchment, but rather of long habit, great self-command, and individuality. The government of Corrientes has presented him with an estate worth 10,000 Spanish piastres : he also enjoys a pension of 3000 francs per annum from the French government. He has always practised as a physician with the most perfect disinterestedness. He is universally respected—greatly prefers, however, solitude, and especially avoids those who come to him for advice and assistance. His scientific zeal remains unabated; his collections and manuscripts are deposited at Corrientes, where he has founded a national museum. On the following morning I found him considerably weaker. The night had been a painful one. I earnestly entreated him to tell me if I could in any way be of service to him, but it was with me as with all his friends—‘ he was in no need of assistance.’ I took leave of him with a sorrowful heart. How gladly would I have persuaded him to return to the civilized world! But I felt with him, that his time was past. He belongs to the first period of the nineteenth century, not to the second. It appeared to me that your friend was himself affected when I took both his wrinkled hands in mine to bid him adieu. Those who surround him have found his powers failing him much during the last three months. Perhaps the old man experienced the same feelings at parting as myself, who would probably be the last messenger of European birth sent to him from afar off into this wilderness, to express to him in the name of Science all the reverence love, and thankfulness which is due to him. I mounted my horse and gallopped in a northern direction across the green plains. No path directed me; I was disturbed by no guide; I was alone, with my mournful thoughts on Bonpland sinking into the grave.” How happy was the last letter which I received from Bonpland, from Corrientes, dated the 7th of June, 1857 :— “J’irai,” said he, “porter mes collections et mes manuscrits moi-meme a Paris, pour les deposer au Museum. Mon voyage en France ne sera que tres court; je retournerai a mon S. Ana, ou je passe une vie tranquille et heureuse. C’est la que je veux mourir, et ou mon tombeau se trouvera a l’ombre des arbres nombreux que j’ai plantes. Que je serais heureux, cher Humboldt, de te revoir encore une fois et de renouveler nos souvenirs communs. Le mois d’aout prochain, le 28, je completerai ma 84eme annee, et j’ai trois (4) ans de moins que toi. Il vient de mourir dans cette province un homme de 107 ans. Quelle perspective pour deux voyageurs qui ont passe leur 80eme annee!” This joyous letter, almost expressing a longing for life, contrasts wonderfully with the mournful description of Dr. Lallemant’s visit. In Monte Video (according to Mr. von Tschudi) it was believed that Bonpland had died at San Borja on the 29th of May, but without further particulars. On the 18th of April Lallemant conversed with him at Santa Anna. On the 19th of May his death was denied at Porto Alegre. There is, therefore, still hope that the younger of the two has not been the first summoned away. At such great distances uncertainty is often unfortunately long continued, as evidence the anxiety on account of Edward Vogel in Central Africa and Adolph Schlagintweit in Central Asia. Alexander V. Humboldt.