And as I wept over the early sins of St. Francis, so too did I weep over
the rhapsodical Confessions of St. Augustine, that mighty theologian after
whom I had been named, and whose works--after those concerning St.
Francis--exerted a great influence upon me in those early days.
Thus did I grow in grace until Fra Gervasio, who watched me narrowly and
anxiously, seemed more at ease, setting aside the doubts that earlier had
tormented him lest I should be forced upon a life for which I had no
vocation. He grew more tender and loving towards me, as if something of
pity lurked within the strong affection in which he held me.
And, meanwhile, as I grew in grace of spirit, so too did I grow in grace of
body, waxing tall and very strong, which would have been nowise surprising
but that those nurtured as was I are seldom lusty. The mind feeding
overmuch upon the growing body is apt to sap its strength and vigour,
besides which there was the circumstance that I continued throughout those
years a life almost of confinement, deprived of all the exercises by which
youth is brought to its fine flower of strength.
As I was approaching my eighteenth year there befell another incident,
which, trivial in itself, yet has its place in my development and so should
have its place within these confessions.
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