"I thought the life of a monk was a very different thing to what I have found it. I thought I was to serve God, and to prepare myself for the ministry of the holy Church; I imagined I should have to study useful things, to instruct my mind; and above all, I fancied a cloistral life was one of peace and tranquillity; that the brethren respected and loved one another. I entered these walls with no other feelings or sentiments, and for my own part, I have always endeavoured to practise the duties they inculcate: but I am sorry to say this is not the system which I find here; the laws are good, but they are not put in practice; everything is governed by the caprice of the superior, who often gives contrary orders, and makes us lose our time in things of no value. Instead of useful books, to form the mind and make men of us, they put into our hands none but ascetic works, calculated to make us bigots. The lives of the saints, abounding with the greatest absurdities, are what they perpetually give us to read, and their conversation is only on austerities and miracles. I therefore come to say that this life will not do for me; and I beg my parents may be informed of it, that they may take me away. I wish to get out of this place as soon as possible, for it is worse than a prison--it is a perfect hell." "My good child," said I, "there is no difficulty in your leaving immediately, as you are not professed. I myself will take care that your relations shall be made acquainted with your wish, in order that they may send you a change of clothes, and take you home. But tell me, why are you so troubled as to weep? Perhaps you are afraid of me, or have some other occasion for fear." "Oh no, I am not afraid of you; you have not a surly threatening face; and besides, I know that all the youths like you. If you were our superior, I should not take this step; since I am not so much discontented with the Order, or with a monastic life; but I feel I cannot live with such a race of beings as there is here. I love religion, not bigotry; good people, not fanatics." "Then you have something to say against the local superiors! Speak out." "Oh no, I will not say anything, because well I cannot, and ill I will not speak of them." I endeavoured to persuade him to try his vocation a little longer. I told him all superiors were not like Savoldello and his agents; that, once out, he would find better people, and more liberty as his years increased; but nevertheless, if such were his feelings, if he did not feel the same vocation in him, he had better return to his former way of life. Which he did accordingly.