We see him seeking, with the simplicity of perfect humility, for reasons for submitting himself, renouncing his ideas, and not quite succeeding in finding them.

He repeats to himself the exhortations that others had given him; we feel the effort to understand and admire the ideal monk whom Ugolini and the Church have proposed to him for an example: The Lord says in the Gospels: "He who does not give up all that he has cannot be my disciple.

And he who would save his life shall lose it." One gives up all he possesses and loses his life when life gives himself entirely into the hands of his superior, to obey him....

And when the inferior sees things which would be better or more useful to his soul than those which the superior commands him, let him offer to God the sacrifice of his will.
Reading this one might think that Francis was about to join the ranks of those to whom submission to ecclesiastical authority is the very essence of religion.

But no; even here his true feeling is not wholly effaced, he mingles his words with parentheses and illustrations, timid, indeed, but revealing his deepest thought; always ending by enthroning the individual conscience as judge of last resort.[6] All this shows clearly enough that we must picture to ourselves moments when his wounded soul sighs after passive obedience, the formula of which, _perinde ac cadaver_, goes apparently much farther back than the Company of Jesus.