I had St. Augustine's _De Opere Monachorum_. Some
people passed on the upper road, talking in loud voices. I raised my
head mechanically. Then, I cannot tell why, but instead of resuming my
reading, I closed the book and fell to thinking. I thought of what St.
Augustine says about manual labour for monks, I thought of the order of
St. Benedict, of Rance, and of how the Benedictine order might again
return to manual labour. Then, in a moment of weariness, but with my
heart still full of the immense grandeur of St. Augustine, I believed
I heard a voice from the upper world crying: '_Magister adest et
vocat te!_' Perhaps it was only an hallucination, only because of St.
Augustine, only some unconscious memory of the '_Tolle, lege_'; I do not
deny this, but, nevertheless, I trembled, trembled like a leaf. And I
asked myself fearfully, Does the Lord wish me to become a monk?
You know, _Padre mio_--I have repeated it to you on two or three
occasions--that in one particular, at least, this would correspond
with the end of my vision. But when you counselled me, as did also Don
Giuseppe Flores, not to put faith in this vision, I told you that, to
me, another reason for not putting faith in it was that I do not feel
myself worthy to be a priest, and, furthermore, that the idea of joining
any religious order is strangely repugnant to me.
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