mit and pilgrim, who had nothing to offer to a stranger used to the grands salons of Paris.
I am something of his mind, and shall hardly go again.
On my way home I stopped at the Seminary of St. Sulpice to see one of the priests who is a professor there.
I was surprised at the extent of the establishment, and the number of éleves, in their gloomy dresses and with their formal air, who were walking about in the vast corridors.
It was, however, all monkish, as much as if it had been in Austria or Rome; and I could not but feel that it was all out of joint with the spirit of the times, in France at least.
I recollected our conversation at de Broglie's the other evening, and could not but think, if the Catholic religion requires for its support such establishments as this, it can hardly be suited to France, or likely to make progress there.
February 14.—Divided a long evening between Thierry and the de Broglies.
Poor Thierry was in bed, suffering more than usual; but two or th