ds: "At first a man dressed in
black guided me." Benedetto did not remember this.

"You know," the Pope continued, "that prophecy alone is not sufficient
proof of saintliness. You know there are such things (such cases have
been met with) as prophetic visions which were the work of-well, perhaps
not of malign spirits, we know too little of these matters to assert
that--but of occult powers, of powers innate in human nature, or of
powers superior to human nature, but which most certainly have nothing
to do with holiness. Can you describe to me the state of your soul when
you had the vision?"

"I was feeling most bitter sorrow at having drawn away from God, at
having been deaf to His calls, an infinite gratitude for His patient
kindness, and an infinite desire of Christ. In my mind I had just seen,
really seen, shining clear and white against a dark background, those
words of the Gospel, which long ago, in the time of goodness had been
so dear to me: _'Magister adest et vocat te.'_ Don Giuseppe Flores was
officiating, and Mass was nearly over, when, as I prayed, my face buried
in my hands, the vision came to me. It was instantaneous; like a flash!"

Benedetto's chest heaved, so violent was this revulsion of memory.

"It may have been a delusion," he said; "but it was not the work of
malign spirits."

"The evil spirits," the Pontiff said, "do sometimes masquerade as angels
of light. Perhaps, at that time, they were striving against the spirit
of goodness which was within you. Did you take pride in this vision,
later on?"

Benedetto bowed his head, and reflected for some time.

"Perhaps--on one occasion," said he, "for one moment, at Santa
Scolastica, when my master, in the Abbot's name, offered me the habit of
a lay-brother, that habit which was afterwards taken from me at Jenne.
Then I thought for a moment that this unexpected offer confirmed the
last part of my vision, and I felt a wave of satisfaction, deeming
myself the object of divine favour. I immediately entreated God to
pardon me, as I now entreat Your Holiness to pardon me."

The Pontiff did not speak, but he raised his hand with wide-spread
fingers, and lowered it again, in an act of absolution.

Then he began to examine the different papers lying on the little table,
seeming to consult more than one attentively, as he turned them over.
He laid them down, arranged them in a packet, which he pushed aside, and
once more broke the silence:

"My son," he