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Ah, I know your delusions very well. You sigh for that which lies beyond, of which you have no certain knowledge; you mortify your flesh; you repress all human desires. And yet I tell you this may be a vanity, like the rest.

Think not, sire, that I am blind to the danger that lurks in renunciation. I know that my friend Gregory says well when he writes that he holds himself a hermit in heart, though not in the body. And I know that this coarse clothing is of small profit to my soul if I take merit to myself for wearing it.

But that is not my case. This secluded life fills me with unspeakable happiness; that is all. The wild convulsions through which, in these days, the world is passing, do not here force themselves, in all their hideousness, upon my eyes. Here I feel my body uplifted in prayer, and my soul purified by a frugal life.

Oh my modest Basil, I fear you are ambitious of more than this. If what I hear be true, your sister has gathered round her a band of young women whom she is training up in her own likeness. And you yourself, like your Galilean master, have chosen twelve disciples. What is your purpose with them?

To send them forth into all lands, that they may strengthen our brethren in the fight.