by day the unfolding of his pupil's mind. Thus he took the
keenest interest in his work, and considered his days doubly blessed. I
have heard him say that the offer of the triple crown could not have
tempted him to change his life.

"He did not live in the chateau, but in a small house on the estate. It
was supposed that here he would feel himself more his own master, free
to order, to come and go as he would, whilst every comfort was secured
to him. My father was the most generous of men, full of thoughtful
consideration for all in any way dependent upon him. From the highest
to the lowest, none were passed over. He soon discovered the Abbe's true
character; the high purpose that actuated his life; and became devoted
to him. My father's mind was quite equal to the Abbe's, though he had
not spent his life in metaphysical studies. Still, he sympathised with
his pursuits, and read his works in MS. Now he agreed with the writer
and now differed. His clear, correct vision many a time won over the
Abbe to his opinion.

"The Abbe became, so to say, our domestic chaplain. As often as he could
be persuaded, he made a fourth at the dinner-table, and said grace in
his quiet, refined tones. And he needed far less persuasion on these
occasions than when the chateau was filled with guests. He was always an
acquisition. A man of deep and varied thought, possessing the gift, not
always given to great men, of putting his thoughts into words. An
earnest, fluent talker, who could unstring his bow and throw a charm
even over ordinary topics. This was far more apparent, far more
exercised when we were alone and he was sure of the sympathy of his
hearers, than when others were present. If he only spoke of the passing
clouds, the ripening fruit, or the flashing sea, his rare mind would
clothe his ideas in a form peculiarly his own, and especially
attractive.

"I often think Providence helped my father in his selection. When indeed
does Providence _not_ direct the paths of its children? Without doubt I
owe the Abbe a deep debt of gratitude. He did much to shape and
consolidate my character. I was his pupil in all those important years
when the seeds are being sown to bear fruit in the after life. From the
age of seven to nineteen, I was seldom absent from him. Occasionally he
would join in our yachting excursions. Then, unbending, throwing work to
the winds, he became the most delightful of companions. In spite of his
more than fifty year