"Oh! the nice little fellow," he said, "how beautifully he
is wrapped up. Do not interfere with him. He will always be the same.
Fie will ever be studying, and when he should be attending to the
charge of souls he will be at it still. Well wrapped up in his cloak,
he will answer those who come to call him away: 'Leave me alone, can't
you?'" He saw that his remark had gone home. I was confused but not
converted, and as I made no reply, he pressed my hand and added, with
a slight touch of irony, "He will be a little Gosselin."
M. Pinault, there can be no question, was far above M. Gosselin in
respect to his natural force and the hardihood with which he took
up certain views. Like another Diogenes, he saw how hollow and
conventional were a host of things which my worthy director regarded
as articles of faith. But he did not shake me for a moment. I have
never ceased to put faith in the intelligence of man. M. Gosselin,
by his confidence in scholasticism, confirmed me in my rationalism,
though not to so great an extent as M. Manier, one of the professors
of philosophy. He was a man of unswerving honesty, whose opinions were
in harmony with those of the moderate universitarian school, at that
time so decried by the clergy. He had a great liking for the Scottish
philosophers, and gave me Thomas Reid to study. He steadied my
thoughts very much, and by the aid of his authority and that of M.
Gosselin, I was enabled to put away the exaggerations of M.
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