us towards another. Mathematics, the exaggerated preoccupation of
my youth, did me hardly any service; and animals, which I avoided
as much as ever I could, are the consolation of my old age.
Nevertheless, I bear no grudge against the sine and the cosine,
which I continue to hold in high esteem. They cost me many a
pallid hour at one time, but they always afforded me some first
rate entertainment: they still do so, when my head lies tossing
sleeplessly on its pillow.

Meanwhile, Ajaccio received the visit of a famous Avignon botanist,
Requien by name, who, with a box crammed with paper under his arm,
had long been botanizing all over Corsica, pressing and drying
specimens and distributing them to his friends. We soon became
acquainted. I accompanied him in my free time on his explorations
and never did the master have a more attentive disciple. To tell
the truth, Requien was not a man of learning so much as an
enthusiastic collector. Very few would have felt capable of
competing with him when it came to giving the name or the
geographical distribution of a plant. A blade of grass, a pad of
moss, a scab of lichen, a thread of seaweed: he knew them all. The
scientific name flashed across his mind at once. What an unerring
memory, what a genius for classification amid the enormous mass of
things observed! I stood aghast at it. I owe much to Requien in
the domain of botany. Had death spared him longer, I should
doubtless have owed more to him, for his was a generous heart, ever
open to the troubles of novices.

In the following year, I met Moquin-Tandon, with whom, thanks to
Requien, I had already exchanged a few letters on botany. The
illustrious Toulouse professor came to study on the spot the flora