but the days were fatiguing. He said he hadn't worked so hard for years.
He started at nine in the morning, visiting schools and universities,
came home to breakfast at twelve, and immediately after had a small
reception, rectors, professors, and people connected with the schools he
wanted to talk to, at three started again seeing more schools and going
conscientiously over the buildings from basement to garret,--then visits
to the cardinal, archbishop, general commanding, etc.--a big dinner and
reception in the evening, the cardinal present in his red robes, his
coadjutor in purple, the officers in uniform, and all the people
connected in any way with the university, who were pleased to see their
chief. There was a total absence of Bonapartist senators and deputies
(which was not surprising, as W. had always been in violent opposition
to the Empire), who were rather numerous in these parts. W. was really
quite exhausted when he got back to Paris--said it was absolute luxury
to sit quietly and read in his library, and not talk. It wasn't a luxury
that he enjoyed very much, for whenever he was in the house there was
always some one talking to him in his study and others waiting in the
drawing-room. Every minute of the day he was occupied. People were
always coming to ask for something for themselves or some members of
their family, always candidates for the Institute, anxiously inquiring
what their chances were, and if he had recommended them to his friends.
It is striking even in this country of functionaries (I think there are
more small public employees in France than in any other country) how
many applicants there were always for the most insignificant places--a
Frenchman loves a cap with gold braid and gilt buttons on his coat.

All the winter of 1876, which saw the end of the National Assembly and
the beginning of a new regime, was an eventful one in parliamentary
circles. I don't know if the country generally was very much excited
about a new constitution and a change of government. I don't think the