Just a brief letter before we go off to Rochester. We have every Wednesday a seminar at which somebody talks about some item of research, and from time to time this is made a joint seminar with Rochester University. Today is the first time this term that we are going over there for it. It is a magnificent day, and it should be a lovely trip; Rochester is due north of here, and we go through some wild country. I am being taken in Feynman's car, which will be great fun if we survive. Feynman is a man for whom I am developing a considerable admiration; he is the brightest of the young theoreticians here, and is the first example I have met of that rare species, the native American scientist. He has developed a private version of the quantum theory, which is generally agreed to be a good piece of work and may be more helpful than the orthodox version for some problems; in general he is always sizzling with new ideas, most of which are more spectacular than helpful, and hardly any of which get very far before some newer inspiration eclipses them. His most valuable contribution to physics is as a sustainer of morale; when he bursts into the room with his latest brain‐wave and proceeds to expound it with the most lavish sound effects and waving about of the arms, life at least is not dull. [Victor] Weisskopf, the chief theoretician at Rochester, is also an interesting and able man, but of the normal European type; he comes from Munich, where he was a friend of Bethe from student days.

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