Our holy Bishop, drawing a comparison between him and his predecessor, who was addicted to such excessive austerities that it seemed as if he had either no body at all, or one of iron, said: "The late Prior was like those unskilful physicians who by their treatment fill up our cemeteries: for many who desired to imitate his mortified life, and through a zeal without knowledge, tried to do what was beyond their strength, ended by falling into the pit. On the other hand, the actual Prior of the Grand Chartreuse, by his gentleness and moderation, maintains among his monks, peace and humility of soul, together with health of body, making them preserve their strength for God, that is to say, so as to serve Him longer and with greater earnestness in those exercises which tend to His glory. In doing this he follows the example of the Patriarch Jacob, who, on his return from Mesopotamia, could have reached his father's house much sooner had he accepted the offer of camels made by his brother Esau, when he came to meet him. But Jacob preferred to accommodate his pace to that of his little ones, of his children, and even of the lambs of his flock, rather than to press on at the risk of throwing his household and followers into disorder." This example was a favourite one with our Blessed Father, and I am reminded of another of the same kind, which he valued almost as much. "Have you read," he once said to me, "the life of Blessed Aloysius Gonzaga of the Society of Jesus? If you have, perhaps you have remarked what it was that made that young prince so quickly become holy, and almost perfect. It was his extreme exactitude and punctuality, and his faithful observance of the constitutions of his Order. This was such that he refused to put one foot before the other, so to speak, or draw back a single step in order to gratify himself. This, not of course in regard to things commanded, or forbidden, for the law of God leaves us in no doubt about such, but in those indifferent matters which, being neither commanded nor forbidden, often make correct discernment difficult." There are some who imagine that this way of discerning the will of God is impracticable for persons in the world, and that it is only out of the world, as they call the cloistered life, that one can have recourse to it. Now, although we do not deny that in the well-regulated and holy life of a convent by means of obedience, and through the medium of superiors, the knowledge of God's will in things indifferent can be more perfectly ascertained, and more readily acted upon, than in any other state of life, still we venture to maintain that even in the world it is easier to ascertain God's will, even in things indifferent, than might at first sight appear."