the cause of this rupture, and I think
I have succeeded. You have well considered, my dear son, the serious
nature of the step you are taking?"

"Yes, father."

"And you have absolutely decided to abandon the Society, even against my
will?"

"It would be painful to me, father--but I must resign myself to it."

"It should be very painful to you, indeed, my dear son; for you took the
irrevocable vow freely, and this vow, according to our statutes, binds
you not to quit the Society, unless with the consent of your superiors."

"I did not then know, father, the nature of the engagement I took. More
enlightened now, I ask to withdraw myself; my only desire is to obtain
a curacy in some village far from Paris. I feel an irresistible vocation
for such humble and useful functions. In the country, there is so much
misery, and such ignorance of all that could contribute to ameliorate
the condition of the agricultural laborer, that his existence is as
unhappy as that of a negro slave; for what liberty has he? and what
instruction? Oh! it seems to me, that, with God's help, I might, as a
village curate, render some services to humanity. It would therefore be
painful to me, father, to see you refuse--"

"Be satisfied, my son," answered Father d'Aigrigny; "I will no longer
seek to combat your desire to separate yourself from us."

"Then, father, you release me from my vows?"

"I have not the power to do so, my dear son; but I will write
immediately to Rome, to ask the necessary authority from our general."

"I thank you, father."

"Soon, my dear son, you will be delivered from these bonds, which you
deem so heavy; and the men you abandon will not the less continue to
pray for you, that God may preserve you from still greater wanderings.
You think yourself released with regard to us, my dear son; but we do
not think ourselves released with regard to you. It is not thus that we
can get rid of the habit of paternal attachment. What would you have? We
look upon ourselves as bound to our children, by the very benefits with
which we have loaded them. You were poor, and an orphan; we stretched
out our arms to you, as much from the interest which you deserved, my
dear son, as to spare your excellent adopted mother too great a burden."

"Father," said Gabriel, with suppressed emotion, "I am not ungrateful."

"I wish to believe so, my dear son. For long years, we gave to you, as
to our beloved child, food for the body and the sou