As I pursued these and similar things, you groaned heavily, deeply moved that you had been brought into such a necessity that you could neither fulfill it by any effort nor abandon it without sin; and then, sharing in your devout groanings with that affection of heart by which I am bound to you, in prayer I told you that you could accomplish by living what you could not impart by teaching; that the faithful Catholics are wont to profit more from good examples than from polished words; that this is the highest and most perfect doctrine which a spiritual manner of life displays, not the one which empty speech boasts; that at the day of judgment not our words but our works will be sought; and that what the tongue teaches cannot easily be made persuasive if one's life dissents from one's tongue;
but that thing can be proved possible which, whether you preach it or do not preach it, you confirm by doing, and which—with a certain delight in its very feasibility—you instill into those who wish to imitate it: you, somewhat delighted by my suggestion, immediately replied this, if memory does not fail me.