The last line of this letter betrays the restless spirit of adventure growing out of the desire for larger fields of activity and research. Tranquilized for a while in the new and more satisfying intellectual life of Munich, it stirred afresh from time to time, not without arousing anxiety in friends at home, as we shall see. The letter to which the following is an answer has not been found. FROM HIS MOTHER. ORBE, January 8, 1828. . . .Your letter reached me at Cudrefin, where I have been passing ten days. With what pleasure I received it,--and yet I read it with a certain sadness too, for there was something of ennui, I might say of discontent, in the tone. . .Believe me, my dear Louis, your attitude is a wrong one; you see everything in shadow. Consider that you are exactly in the position you have chosen for yourself; we have in no way opposed your plans. We have, on the contrary, entered into them with readiness, saying amen to your proposals, only insisting upon a profession that would make us easy about your future, persuaded as we are that you have too much energy and uprightness not to wish to fill honorably your place in society. You left us a few months ago with the assurance that two years would more than suffice to complete your medical studies. You chose the university which offered, as you thought, the most ample means to reach your end; and now, how is it that you look forward only with distaste to the practice of medicine? Have you reflected seriously before setting aside this profession? Indeed, we cannot consent to such a step. You would lose ground in our opinion, in that of your family, and in that of the public. You would pass for an inconsiderate, fickle young fellow, and the slightest stain on your reputation would be a mortal blow to us. There is one way of reconciling all difficulties,--the only one in my opinion. Complete your studies with all the zeal of which you are capable, and then, if you have still the same inclination, go on with your natural history; give yourself wholly up to it should that be your wish. Having two strings to your bow, you will have the greater facility for establishing yourself. Such is your father's way of thinking as well as mine. . .Nor are you made to live alone, my child. In a home only is true happiness to be found; there you can settle yourself to your liking. The sooner you have finished your studies, the sooner you can put up your tent, catch your blue butterfly, and metamorphose her into a loving housewife. Of course you will not gather roses without thorns; life consists of pains and pleasures everywhere. To do all the good you can to your fellow-beings, to have a pure conscience, to gain an honorable livelihood, to procure for yourself by work a little ease, to make those around you happy, --that is true happiness; all the rest but mere accessories and chimeras. . . TO HIS MOTHER. MUNICH, February 3, 1828.