[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.
