ying leaves. I can never
see an old-fashioned French house in the Seine-et-Oise or the
Seine-et-Marne, with its trim fenced gardens, without calling up to
my mind the austere books which were in bygone days read beneath the
shade of their walks. Deep should be our pity for those who have never
been moved to these melancholy thoughts, and who have not realised how
many sighs have been heaved ere joy came into our heart.

The mutual footing upon which masters and students at St. Sulpice
stand is a very tolerant one. There is not beyond doubt a single
establishment in the world where the student has more liberty. At St.
Sulpice in Paris, a student might pass his three years without having
any close communication with a single one of the superiors. It is
assumed that the _regime_ of the establishment will be self-acting.
The superiors lead just the same life as the students, and intervene
as little as possible. A student who is anxious to work has the
greatest of facilities for doing so. On the other hand, those who
are inclined to be idle have no compulsion to work put upon them;
and there are very many in this case. The examinations are very
insignificant in scope; there is not the least attempt at competition,
and if there was it would be discouraged, though when we remember that
the age of the students averages between eighteen and twenty, this is
carrying the doctrine of non-intervention too far. It is beyond
doubt very prejudicial to learning. But after all said and done, this
unqualified respect for liberty and the treating as grown-up men of
the lads who are already in spirit set apart for the priesthood,
are the only proper rules to follow in the delicate task of training
youths for what is in the eye of the Christian the most exalted of
callings. I am myself of opinion that the same rule might be applied
with advantage to the department of Public Instruction, and that the
Normal School more especially might in some particulars take example
by it.

The superior at Issy, during my stay there, was M. Gosselin, one of
the most amiable and polite men I have ever known. He was a member of
one of those old bourgeois families which, without being affiliated
to the Jansenists, were not less deeply attached than the latter to
religion. His mother, to whom he bore a great likeness, was still
alive, and he was most devoted in his respectful regard for her. He
was very fond of recalling the first lessons in politeness which