f all external demonstrations and his staid and reasonable piety. In
the evening, some of the younger students went to keep him company in
his room for an hour. The conversation never took a mystical turn.
M. Garnier narrated his recollections, spoke of M. Emery, and
foreshadowed with melancholy, his approaching end. The contrast
between his quietude and the ardour of Penault and M. Gottofrey
was very striking. These aged priests were so honest, sensible and
upright, observing their rules, and defending their dogmas, just as
a faithful soldier holds the post which has been committed to his
keeping. The higher questions were altogether beyond them. The love of
order and devotion to duty were the guiding principles of their lives.
M. Garnier was a learned Orientalist, and better versed than any
living Frenchman in the Biblical exegesis as taught by the Catholics a
century ago. The modesty which characterised St. Sulpice deterred him
from publishing any of his works, and the outcome of his studies was
an immense manuscript representing a complete course of Holy Writ, in
accordance with the relatively moderate views which prevailed among
the Catholics and Protestants at the close of the eighteenth century.
It was very analogous in spirit to that of Rosenmueller, Hug and Jahn.
When I joined St. Sulpice, M. Garnier was too old to teach, and our
professors used, to read us extracts from his copy-books. They were
full of erudition, and testified to a very thorough knowledge of
language. Now and then we came upon some artless observation which
made us smile, such, for instance, as the way in which he got over
the difficulties relating to Sarah's adventure in Egypt. Sarah, as we
know, was close upon seventy when Pharaoh conceived so great a passion
for her, and M. Garnier got over this by observing that this was not
the only instance of the kind, and that "Mademoiselle de Lenclos" was
the cause of duels being fought, when over seventy. M. Garnier had
not made himself acquainted with the latest labours of the new German
school, and he remained in happy ignorance of the inroads which the
criticism of the nineteenth century had made upon the ancient system.
His best title to fame is that he moulded in M. Le Hir, a pupil who,
inheriting his own vast knowledge, added to it familiarity with modern
discoveries, and who, with a sincerity which proved the depth of his
faith, did not in the least conceal the depth to which the knife had
gon