Had not the narrator, who gently boasted a part in these
beginnings, been once all but killed by a falling column, which
indeed must have crushed him, but that he stretched out a hand in
which, by happy chance, he was holding a hammer, and this--for a
hammer is cruciform--touching the great pillar, turned its fall in
another direction. Where stood the temple of Venus was now a
vineyard, yielding excellent wine.
'Whereof, surely, you must not drink?' interposed Basil, with a
smile.
'Therein, good brother,' replied Marcus, 'you show but little
knowledge of our dear lord abbot. He indeed abstains from wine, for
such has been the habit of his life, but to us he permits it, for
the stomach's sake; being of opinion that labour is a form of
worship, and well understanding that labour, whether of body or of
mind, can only be performed by one in health. This very day you
shall taste of our vintage, which I have hitherto withheld from you,
lest it should overheat your languid blood.'
Many other questions did Basil ask concerning the rule of the
monastery. He learned that the day was equitably portioned out
(worship apart) between manual and mental work.
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