712 
Wohler and Liebig. 
[December, 
And in November of the same year : — 
“ I admire you and your splendid works. How happy 
you are in your sphere ! I am younger than you, and yet 
far duller. You are like that man in the Indian Fairy Tale 
out of whose mouth dropped branches of roses when he 
laughed, while I am condemned, together with the agricul- 
turists, to pour water into the barrel of the Daneides. All I 
do is in vain ; I am wasting my best forces, without being 
cheered by any success whatever.” 
A great many of the letters exchanged between Wohler 
and Liebig refer to the travels they undertook at different 
periods. In 1843 Wohler made his first journey to Italy. 
The enthusiasm which the southern world excited in him is 
reflected in a letter to Liebig, written on his return. 
Wohler to Liebig. 
“ Gottingen, October, 1843. 
“ I am safely back again at home, and do but regret that 
you have not been with me. I have derived both pleasure 
and instruction from this journey, the scenery as well as the 
people being entirely new to me. It is worth while making 
the voyage if it were only in order to enjoy that view of the 
blue Adriatic Sea from the heights of Optschina, and the 
drive down the mountain between olive and fig trees.” 
In 1846 and 1847 Wohler went again to Italy, both times 
extending his journey as far as Naples. When he prepared 
to go for the second time to this beautiful country, he tried 
in vain to persuade Liebig to accompany him. “ Your pro- 
posal to go to Naples,” he writes in June, 1847, “ is very 
tempting, but I am so inconceivably dull that I cannot make 
up my mind. I am tired of strange faces, and not inclined 
to worry myself by speaking French. After all, what good 
will it do to me to have looked into the crater of Mount 
Vesuvius ?” 
Wohler to Liebig. 
“ Gottingen, July 22, 1847. 
“ It is actually a relief to me to find you too, for the time 
being, so very tired of chemistry. You cannot imagine how 
weary I am, — how sick of the whole concern. Some parts 
make me yawn when I think of them. What is the cause 
of this weariness ? Have we, then, turned already so very 
old ? 
