[CHAPTER III.] <CHAPTER
IV>
FROM this day natural philosophy, and particularly chemistry, in
the most comprehensive sense of the term, became nearly my sole
occupation. I read with ardour those works, so full of genius
and discrimination, which modern inquirers have written on these
subjects. I attended the lectures, and cultivated the
acquaintance, of the men of science of the university; and I
found even in M. Krempe a great deal of sound sense and real
information, combined, it is true, with a repulsive physiognomy
and manners, but not on that account the less valuable. In M.
Waldman I found a true friend. His gentleness was never tinged
by dogmatism; and his instructions were given with an air of
frankness and good [nature that] <nature,
that> banished every idea of pedantry. [It was,
perhaps, the amiable character of this man that inclined me more
to that branch of natural philosophy which he professed, than an
intrinsic love for the science itself. But this state of mind
had place only in the first steps towards knowledge: the more
fully I entered into the science, the more exclusively I pursued
it for its own sake. That application, which at first had been a
matter of duty and resolution, now] <In a thousand
ways he smoothed for me the path of knowledge, and made the most
abstruse enquiries clear and facile to my apprehension. My
application was at first fluctuating and uncertain; it gained
strength as I proceeded, and soon> became so ardent and
eager, that the stars often disappeared in the light of morning
whilst I was yet engaged in my laboratory.