The Church tolerates thousands of stupid, ascetic books which unworthily diminish the idea of God in the human mind; let her not condemn those which magnify it!" The hour struck in the distance; half-past nine.

Silently His Holiness took Benedetto's hand, held it between his own, and communicated to him through that mute pressure an understanding and approval which his prudent lips might not utter.
He pressed the hand, shook it, caressed it, and pressed it again.

At last he said, in a stifled voice: "Pray for me, pray that the Lord may enlighten me!" A tear trembled in each of the beautiful, gentle eyes of the old man, who had never wilfully soiled himself with an impure thought, who was full of the sweetness of charity.

Benedetto was so deeply moved that he could not speak.
"Come again," the Pope said, "We must converse together again." "When, Your Holiness ?" "Soon, I will summon you." Meanwhile the advancing shadows had engulfed the white figure and the black one.

His Holiness placed his hand on Benedetto's shoulder and asked him softly, almost hesitatingly: "Do you remember the end of your vision ?" Benedetto, bowing his head, answered, also in a low tone: "_Nescio diem, neque horam_." "The words are not in the manuscript," His Holiness continued; "but do you remember ?" Benedetto murmured: "In the Benedictine habit, on the bare earth, in the shade of a tree." "Should it happen thus," the Holy Father said gently, "I would wish to bless you in that moment.