found himself thus compelled to
forego long cherished hopes of usefulness. With that glowing imagination
which characterized him even in old age, he had looked forward to the
time when, as the curate of some retired parish, he might encourage the
devout, reprove and control the erring, and, by his example, counsel,
and prayers, so mould and influence the little community, that it should
seem another Eden. But an overruling Providence had reserved for him a
larger field of usefulness, a more extended mission of mercy, and it was
through the path of trial that he was to be led to it.

Regarding it as his duty to employ his time, he at length determined
to enter the legal profession. He passed with rapidity through the
preliminary course of study, and was admitted to the bar. The practice
of the law was not, at that time, in France, nor is it, indeed, now,
invested with the high character attaching to it in England. Its
codes and rules bore the impress of a barbarous age; and among its
practitioners, fraud, artifice, and chicanery were the rule, and honesty
the rare and generally unfortunate exception.

For such a profession the pure-minded De l'Epee found himself entirely
unfitted, and, abandoning it with loathing, his eyes and heart were
again directed toward the profession of his choice, and, this time,
apparently not in vain. His early friend, M. de Bossuet, had been
elevated to the see of Troyes, and, knowing his piety and zeal, offered
him a canonry in his cathedral, and admitted him to priest's orders.
The desire of his heart was now gratified, and he entered upon his new
duties with the utmost ardor. "In all the diocese of Troyes," says one
of his contemporaries, "there was not so faithful a priest."

But his hopes were soon to be blasted. Monseigneur de Bossuet died, and,
as the Jansenist controversy was at its height, his old enemies, the
Jesuits, exerted their influence with the Archbishop of Paris, and
procured an interdict, prohibiting him from ever again exercising the
functions of the priesthood.

A severer blow could scarcely have fallen upon him. He sought not for
honor, he asked not for fame or worldly renown; he had only desired to
be useful, to do good to his fellow-men; and now, just as his hopes were
budding into fruition, just as some results of his faithful labors were
beginning to appear, all were cut off by the keen breath of adversity.

It was while suffering from depression, at his unjust ex