e.

Overborne by the weight of years, and absorbed by the cares which the
general direction of the Company entailed, M. Garnier left the entire
superintendence of the Paris house to M. Carbon, the director.
M. Carbon was the embodiment of kindness, joviality and
straightforwardness. He was no theologian, and was so far from being a
man of superior mind, that at first one would be tempted to look upon
him as a very simple, not to say common, person. But as one came to
know him better, one was surprised to discover beneath this humble
exterior, one of the rarest things in the world, viz., unalloyed
cordiality, motherly condescension, and a charming openness of manner.
I have never met with any one so entirely free from personal vanity.
He was the first to laugh at himself, at his half intentional
blunders, and at the laughable situations into which his artlessness
would often land him. Like all the older directors, he had to say
the orison in his turn. He never gave it five minutes previous
consideration, and he sometimes got into such a comical state of
confusion with his improvised address, that we had to bite our tongues
to keep from laughing. He saw how amused we were, and it struck him
as being perfectly natural. It was he who, during the course of Holy
Writ, had to read M. Garnier's manuscript. He used to flounder about
purposely, in order to make us laugh, in the parts which had fallen
out of date. The most singular thing was that he was not very mystic.
I asked one of my fellow students what he thought was M. Carbon's
motive-idea in life, and his reply was, "the abstract of duty."
M. Carbon took a fancy to me from the first, and he saw that the
fundamental feature in my disposition was cheerfulness, and a
ready acquiescence in my lot. "I see that we shall get on very well
together," he said to me with a pleasant smile; and as a matter
of fact M. Carbon is one of those for whom I have felt the deepest
affection. Seeing that I was studious, full of application, and
conscientious in my work, he said to me after a very short time--"You
should be thinking of your society, that is your proper place." He
treated me almost as a colleague, so complete was his confidence in
me.

The other directors, who had to teach the various branches of
theology, were without exception the worthy continuators of a
respectable tradition. But as regards doctrine itself, the breach was
made. Ultramontanism and the love of the irrational