I even found him more kindly than ever before. He did
not in the least understand the nature of my mind, or in any degree
foresee its future logical evolutions. M. Gottofrey alone had a clear
perception of things. He was right a dozen times over, as I can now
very plainly see. It needed the transcendent lucidity of this martyr
and ascetic to discover that which had quite escaped those who
directed my conscience with so much uprightness and goodness.

I talked too with M. Manier, who strongly advised me not to let my
faith in Christianity be affected by objections of detail. With regard
to the question of entering holy orders, he was always very reserved.
He never said anything which was calculated either to induce me
or dissuade me. This was in his eyes more or less of a secondary
consideration. The essential point, as he thought, was the possession
of the true Christian spirit, inseparable from real philosophy. In his
eyes there was no difference between a priest, or professor of Scotch
philosophy, in the university. He often dwelt upon the honourable
nature of such a career, and more than once he spoke to me of the
Ecole Normale. I did not speak of this overture to M. Gosselin, for
assuredly the very idea of leaving the seminary for the Ecole Normale,
would have seemed to him perdition.

It was decided, therefore, that after my two years of philosophy
I should pass into the seminary of St. Sulpice to get through my
theological course. The flash which shot through the mind of M.
Gottofrey had no immediate consequence. But now at an interval of
eight and thirty years, I can see how clear a perception of the
reality he had. He alone possessed foresight, and I much regret now
that I did not follow his impulse. I should have quitted the seminary
without having studied Hebrew or theology. Physiology and the natural
sciences would have absorbed me, and I do not hesitate to express my
belief--so great was the ardour which these vital sciences excited in
me--that if I had cultivated them continuously I should have arrived
at several of the results achieved by Darwin, and partially foreseen
by myself. Instead of that I went to St. Sulpice and learnt German
and Hebrew, the consequence being that the whole course of my life
was different. I was led to the study of the historical
sciences--conjectural in their nature--which are no sooner made than
they are unmade, and which will be put on one side in a hundred years
time. For t