never-to-be-forgotten Frau Puricelli and her daughter Jenny.

Silcher, an unusually attractive old man, joined us frequently. No other
composer's songs found their way so surely to the hearts of the people.
Many, as "I know not what it means," "I must go hence to-morrow," are
supposed to be folk-songs. It was a real pleasure to hear him sing them
in our little circle in his weak old voice. He was then seventy, but his
freshness and vivacity made him appear younger. The chivalrous courtesy
he showed to all ladies was wonderfully winning.

Justus Liebig's manners were no less attractive, but in him genuine
amiability was united to the elegance of the man of the world who had
long been one of the most distinguished scholars of his day. He must
have been remarkably handsome in his youth, and though at that time past
fifty, the delicate outlines of his profile were wholly unmarred.

Conversation with him was always profitable and the ease with which he
made subjects farthest from his own sphere of investigation--chemistry
perfectly clear was unique in its way. Unfortunately, I have been denied
any deeper insight into the science which he so greatly advanced, but I
still remember how thoroughly I understood him when he explained some
results of agricultural chemistry. He eagerly endeavoured to dissuade
the gentlemen of his acquaintance from smoking after dinner, which he had
found by experiment to be injurious.

For several weeks we played whist with him every evening, for Liebig,
like so many other scholars, regarded card-playing as the best recreation
after severe tension of the mind. During the pauses and the supper which
interrupted the game, he told us many things of former times. Once he
even spoke of his youth and the days which determined his destiny. The