It was decided, therefore, that after my two years of philosophy I should pass into the seminary of St. Sulpice to get through my theological course.  The flash which shot through the mind of M. Gottofrey had no immediate consequence.  But now at an interval of eight and thirty years, I can see how clear a perception of the reality he had.  He alone possessed foresight, and I much regret now that I did not follow his impulse.  I should have quitted the seminary without having studied Hebrew or theology.  Physiology and the natural sciences would have absorbed me, and I do not hesitate to express my belief—­so great was the ardour which these vital sciences excited in me—­that if I had cultivated them continuously I should have arrived at several of the results achieved by Darwin, and partially foreseen by myself.  Instead of that I went to St. Sulpice and learnt German and Hebrew, the consequence being that the whole course of my life was different.  I was led to the study of the historical sciences—­conjectural in their nature—­which are no sooner made than they are unmade, and which will be put on one side in a hundred years time.  For the day is not we may be sure, very far distant when man will cease to attach much interest to his past.  I am very much afraid that our minute contributions to the Academie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres, which are intended to assist to an accurate comprehension of history, will crumble to dust before they have been read.  It is by chemistry at one end and by astronomy at the other, and especially by general physiology, that we really grasp the secret of existence of the world or of God, whichever it may be called.  The one thing which I regret is having selected for my study researches of a nature which will never force themselves upon the world, or be more than interesting dissertations upon a reality which has vanished for ever.  But as regards the exercise—­and pleasure of thought is concerned—­I certainly chose the better part, for at St. Sulpice I was brought face to face with the Bible, and the sources of Christianity, and in the following chapter I will endeavour to describe how eagerly I immersed myself in this study, and how, through a series of critical deductions, which forced themselves upon my mind, the bases of my existence, as I had hitherto understood it, were completely overturned.

[Footnote 1:  Paris, 1609-1612.]

[Footnote 2:  First Edition, 1839; second and much enlarged edition, 1845.]

[Footnote 3:  An essay which describes my philosophical ideas at this epoch, entitled the “Origine du Langage,” first published in the Liberte de penser (September and December, 1848), faithfully portrays, as I then conceived it, the spectacle of living nature as the result and evidence of a very ancient historical development.]

[Footnote 4:  In the French the phrase is, “L’ile de Chio, fortunee patrie d’Homere.”]

[Footnote 5:  I went a short time ago to the National Library to refresh my memory about the Comte de Valmont.  Having my attention called away, I asked M. Soury to look through the book for me, as I was anxious to have his impression of it.  He replied to me in the following terms: