That her communications derive an additional value from her well-known truthfulness is self-evident; and as she was free from sectarian and other prejudices, her judgments were always based upon a solid foundation. Had she in her youthful days employed herself more than she did in scientific study, and gained positive knowledge in that direction, her travels would doubtless have been more useful; but at the commencement of our century even men were seldom found who would employ themselves in scientific pursuits that had no immediate bearing upon their professions, and learned women were rarer still. Ida Pfeiffer was conscious of this defect in her education, and in her mature years often thought of remedying it, but she lacked both the necessary time and patience.

To divest her efforts of all scientific value would, however, be unjust, for the most competent men have given a different verdict. She pressed forward into many regions never before trodden by European foot; and the very fact of her being a woman was her protection in her most dangerous undertakings. She was allowed to pursue her journey where a man would assuredly not have been suffered to advance. Her communications, consequently, have often the merit of containing entirely new facts in geography and ethnology, or of correcting the exaggerations and errors of previous accounts. Science was likewise benefited by the valuable collections she made of plants, animals, and minerals. Frequently she did not herself know the value of what she had brought together; but, nevertheless, she brought many important specimens; and the sciences of conchology and entomology are indebted to her for the discovery of several new genera.

If we compare the results of Ida Pfeiffer’s undertakings with the limited means at her disposal for carrying out her plans, her achievements become marvelous. She traversed nearly 150,000 miles of sea and 20,000 miles of land; and the funds for these travels were gained entirely by wise economy, and by the energy with which she kept the goal continually before her eyes. If her passion for traveling was great, her talents as a traveler were far greater. Without sacrificing her dignity or becoming importunate, she had the art of first arousing and then benefiting by the interest and sympathy of people in all parts of the world. At last she became quite accustomed to see her plan furthered in every possible way, and though she never failed to express her thanks, she seemed at last to receive the good offices of foreigners in all quarters of the globe as almost a matter of course. She even had to fight against little outbursts of wrath when she missed the sympathy for her efforts and herself to which she had become so accustomed. In later years especially, she was fully conscious of her own value, and showed it when people attempted to behave in a condescending or patronizing way to her. Persons of higher rank than herself were obliged to be very careful in their intercourse with her; but with plain, unpretending people she never uttered a word that could hurt or offend. Hating all pretension, and all boastful self-assertion, she showed herself obstinate and self-willed wherever she met with such qualities. Antipathy or sympathy were quickly evoked in her, and it was not easy to make her swerve from an opinion she had once formed. Even when she appeared to give way, it generally happened that she returned by some circuitous route or other to her old starting-point.

For every kind of knowledge she showed the most profound respect, but particularly for the acquirements of people who had distinguished themselves in the domain of science. For Alexander von Humboldt her admiration amounted to perfect enthusiasm, and she never mentioned the great philosopher’s name without testifying the respect she felt toward him. Nothing, perhaps, gave her so much pleasure in her later years as the appreciation for, and sympathy with her efforts manifested by Humboldt.

Ida Pfeiffer was of short stature, thin, and slightly bent. Her movements were deliberate and measured, but she could walk at a very quick pace for her years. When she returned from one of her journeys, her complexion used to give strong evidence of the power of the tropical sun. Beyond this there was nothing in her features to tell of her remarkable trials and adventures; a quieter countenance could not readily be found. But when she became animated in conversation, and spoke of things which strongly awakened her interest, her whole face lighted up, and its expression became exceedingly engaging.

In all that related to the toilet, a matter of importance to most women, Ida Pfeiffer confined her wants within the smallest limits. She was never seen to wear trinkets or jewels; and none of the lady readers who honor these pages with their perusal can show more simplicity in the adornment of her beauty, or greater indifference to the requirements of custom, than were displayed by this voyager round the world.

Straightforward, of high principle, with a promptitude and wisdom in action rarely equaled among her sex, Ida Pfeiffer may justly be classed among those women who richly compensate for the absence of outward charms by the remarkable energy and rare qualities of their minds.

IDA PFEIFFER’S LAST TRAVELS.