The Snares of the Devil – Gerson

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Title: The Snares of the Devil.
Creator(s): Gerson, John (1336-1429)
Print Basis: London: Thomas Richardson and Son. (1883)
CCEL Subjects: All
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THE

Snares of the Devil.

BY

JOHN GERSON,

CHANCELLOR OF PARIS,

Surnamed the Most Christian Doctor.

TRANSLATED BY BETA.

London:

THOMAS RICHARDSON AND SON.
28, King Edward Street, City;
and Derby.
1883.
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John Charlier Gerson, a celebrated French theologian, surnamed the Most
Christian Doctor, was born on the 14th of December, 1363, at Gerson, a
hamlet in the diocese in Rheims, near to Rethel. He died at Lyons, in a
Monastery of Celestine Monks, on the 12th of July, 1429. He was the
eldest of twelve children. His parents, Arnulph Charlier and Elizabeth
Lachardeniere, brought up their family in a religious manner, Gerson
himself tells us that three of his brothers and four sisters embraced
the yoke of Christ in the conventual life. It was beneath the shadow of
the Cloister that peace-loving souls, or those wounded in the struggle
of life, sought for rest and shelter, away from the tumult of a corrupt
and wicked age.

Gerson spent his early youth at home. If credence is to be given to
d’Arquetil, he began his studies ac Rheims, and there he acquired his
classical taste, especially for poetry, which ever after distinguished
him. At fourteen he was sent to Paris, and in 1377 he was placed on the
foundation in the College of Navarre. Here, according to the frequent
usage of the time, he changed his family name for that of the hamlet
where he was born. This renouncing of the paternal name symbolised
death to self and to one’s own family. By thus loosening the ties of
kindred, the chains which fettered man to his own narrow interests and
passions were broken in sunder, and a sort of impersonality was
accepted.

The following year was darkened by the cloud of the great Schism of the
West, which passed over Christendom. Urban VI. was elected in Rome,
April 1378, and Clement VII. in Avignon in the September of the same
year. From this time there began, for the Christian world, for Holy
Church, and for the Papacy, one of those fearful epochs, full of
present misery, and pregnant with sorrow for the future. Then was it
needful that some brave and mighty spirit should come forward, to
undertake the task of restoring peace to the conscience, union and
purity to the Church, and of rehabilitating the Holy See in her former
greatness. Such was the work to which Gerson consecrated all the power
of his intellect and the strength of his will; though in truth he
seemed more fitted for the tranquillity of the Cloister, and for
contemplation, than for the harassing tumult of an active public life,

While he was earnestly imploring help from God to heal the wounds of
His Church, he raised his voice in expostulation against the foolish
subtleties iu which thinking minds were then losing themselves,

“It is needful,” he said, “to sweep away these cobwebs, whose threads,
too closely woven, break one another in their interlace……. The
teaching of wisdom should be solid, it should shine forth more by
clearness than astonish by its over-nicety. A fine thing it is indeed,
to transcribe Homer’s Illiad in microscopic letters, so as to fit the
whole in a nutshell! Man should strive to make himself useful, and not
be ever seeking to excite admiration.”

Thus, before receiving the title of Chancellor, which gave him
authority to reform philosophical studies, he endeavoured to lead to
clearer and more practical wisdom those minds which were then drifting
down the stream of vain and futile thought.

In 1392 Gerson had received the doctor’s cap from the hands of his
former master, d’Ailly.

Three years before, d’Ailly, who had been successively promoted to the
Bishoprics of Puy (1395), and of Cambray (1396), had chosen Gerson as
his successor to the office of Chancellor to the University, and to the
Church of Notre Dame de Paris. This choice had been seconded by the
Duke of Burgundy, whose almoner Gerson was. With the honour of
Chancellor fresh duties fell to the lot of Gerson, and the weight of
the renewed burden affrighted him. Envious tongues made his fair name
their plaything, and wicked men, whose passions Gerson had condemned,
darkened it by their odious calumnies. Sick in body, troubled in mind,
and fearful for the future, he thought of withdrawing to Bruges, there
to fulfil, in greater tranquillity, the duties of Capitular of the
Cathedral of S. Donatas, which office Philip the Hardy had conferred on
him. The benefice was, however, disputed, and this led Gerson to go to
Bruges to uphold his rights. He carried in the old Flemish town for
some time, often preaching to the people.

Nothing but the earnest entreaties of his friends, and, in particular,
those of his patron, the Duke of Burgundy, could determine Gerson to
bear the heavy responsibility of the Chancellor’s office. From the
moment, however, of its acceptance, he generously made the sacrifice of
his love of solitude and of peace. From that time the words of the
Imitation seemed to have been his motto: “Strive manfully,” The longing
for the end of the strife, mingled with so much Utter sorrow, was shown
in the words which escaped from his heart in a sermon which Gerson
preached at Tarascon, in presence of Benedict, “Peace, peace, oh that
peace may descend; above all things I long and yearn for peace.”

The Chancellor’s first straggle was on the field of science, against
the schoolmen. In two letters, written from Bruges to the students of
the college of Navarre, he complains of their restless and tumultuous
spirit, of their foolish disputes about trifles, and of weakening the
thoughts of the great doctors by too great a subtlety in their
arguments and reasoning. He also gives advice on the choice of books.
“There are some authors,” he writes, “whom it is only needful to salute
in passing, as a sign that we are not ignorant of them. A few, such as
S. Bonaventure, S. Thomas, and William of Auxerre, should be known to
us as intimate friends. As to pagan writers, we must in no wise give
ourselves up to them, but be contented to be their passing guest.”

In another work the reform which Gerson sought to make in the students’
studies, especially in theology, is marked by a still greater
precision. The criticisms which he passed on scholastic philosophy
display a mind at once elevated and firm.

In 1414 was convoked the Council of Constance; it lasted until 1418, at
which Gregory XII. voluntarily resigned. The anti-Popes, John XXII. and
Benedict XIII. were deposed, and a new Pope was elected, who took the
name of Martin V., and thus the great Schism of the West was healed.

Gerson assisted at the Council as Ambassador of the French King. While
he was away on this mission Paris was the scene of civil discord, and
on the termination of the Council he was unable to return thither. In
pilgrim’s garb he wandered amid the mountains of Bavaria, and in the
Tyrol, passing from thence to Vienna, where Duke Frederick of Austria
made him welcome, and named him professor of the University. He
remained here for some months, but in 1419 the murder of the Duke of
Burgundy enabled him to return to France. He went to Lyons, where the
party for the Dauphin predominated. John, Prior of a Convent of
Celestine Monks, offered him a home, which he accepted. This John de
Gerson is called his brother (germanus), but it is unlikely that two
brothers were both named John. Germanus means only near kinsman. He was
probably his cousin. The declining years of the great Chancellor passed
peacefully in the exercise of prayer and contemplation, beneath the
shade of the Monastery of the Church of S. Paul. He now blessed the
trials through which he had passed, and which had led him to his
peaceful retreat in the evening of life. He did not, however, withdraw
into selfish solitude, he still yearned for the welfare of the souls of
men; he frequently gave instructions, and he was at once edifying by
his words and work. He encouraged and advised all those who sought his
counsel. It was during his sojourn in Lyons that Gerson wrote almost
all his works on mystic philosophy, his Commentaries on the Psalms, and
his treatise on the Examination of Doctrine. It is said that he took
especial delight in little children; it was, he said, through them that
the reformation of the Church must be begun. He loved to gather the
children of the poor around him, and to teach them the catechism. It
was a touching sight to see this venerable man, whose words had
thrilled the Christian world, surrounded by God’s little ones,
explaining the deep mysteries of faith to them, or teaching them the
rudiments of the Latin tongue. “O God, my Creator! have pity on Thy
servant, John Gerson,” was the simple prayer he taught their infant
lips to say for him.

Gerson’s last work was a Commentary on the Canticles; it was finished
just before his death, which occurred on the 12th of July, 1429, when
he was in his 67th year. His body was buried in the Church of S. Paul.
On his tomb were inscribed the words which mark so well his own inner
life: “Sursum corda.” For a long time his resting-place was held
sacred; the people of Lyons flocked to pray there, and it is said that
miracles were not wanting to testify to his great holiness.
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PREFACE OF THE AUTHOR.

It has been proposed to me to unfold some of those crafty wiles by
which the enemy of the human race lays snares for us in all our works.
We may thus learn to humble ourselves under the hand of God; we may
procure, at least in a general manner, a knowledge of how ignorant we
are in the path of virtue, and we may get to see how helplessly weak we
are against all the wicked malice of this foe, unless we put our trust
in the assistance of God and of His Saints. For the devil insinuates
himself, by deceptive ambushes, into all our thoughts, words, and
works. He especially thus attacks those whom he perceives to be very
earnestly intent on serving God faithfully; and if he can he will turn
them to evil, under the specious guise of good.

Like a deceitful robber, when he falls in with the good he offers
himself as a companion of the journey, and converses with them. And
till a fair opportunity comes of striking and killing the soul, he
feigns a most trusty friendship. But when he has bided his time, he
strives to defile some holy action by cunningly mingling with it the
poison of his malice, so to ruin it, either in the beginning, the
middle, or the end.

When the devil cannot prevent a good action, he strives to spoil the
intention and make it corrupt, as, e.g., to do the good thing for
vain-glory, or some carnal pleasure. If, however, the beginning of the
action has eluded his grasp, he then tries to seize it in the middle,
or at least in the finish; and even after its completion he still
loiters about, for he may yet contrive to move a man to a vain gladness
at having well performed a virtuous work.

Supposing a man wants to give an alms: when the enemy cannot hinder
him, he exhorts him to obtain some worldly praise by it, or to have in
view some equivalent advantage from him to whom it is given, some gift,
or some service. And if this temptation is overcome, he prepares
another more subtle and efficacious, so common to the good, that in
this life it is scarce possible, I fancy, to be without; and it is
this–he incites a man to think and say with himself: “There, you have
done your work well; you have managed well to defeat the enemy; no
vain-glory or other vice has been mixed with your good action.
Another–this one or that–would not have so done.” So he who had
overcome vain-glory before, and pride, now falls headlong to his ruin
by the same vices. Yet such rash and silly thoughts almost always
insinuate themselves into the mind. It is plain then, that unless we
take great care, our virtue may become a vice, and pride may spring
even from humility.
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Snares of the Devil.
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CHAPTER I.

Of Vice under the semblance of Virtue.

The devil sometimes advises us to put aside all striving after very
lofty virtue, and to occupy ourselves instead in things of little
moment. He does this, either to take us altogether out of the road of
any great perfection, or that by this sort of bastard humility we may
fancy we have an extraordinary sanctity in avoiding a lofty state, and
not seeking high things. By this a secret pride may be engendered in
the soul, and a rash judging of others, who do not walk in the same
path.

2. Sometimes the enemy counsels to say an immense multitude of prayers
out of custom. His object in this is to render the task burdensome and
tiresome, so that they shall be void of devotion, and without unction;
or again that, by considering the number of prayers said, the person
may be lifted up with pride. Sometimes, too, he does it to hinder the
person from works which would be more profitable, or which are more
necessary. Or again, he thus tempts the soul to fancy that by the
frequency of her prayers she can oblige God by right to accomplish what
she covets.

3. Frequently the devil hinders people from doing good things from a
fear lest they should be called Saints, or should be thought Saints,
and so should become proud. So he causes a person to imagine that
spiritual sloth is a discreet humility. He will not allow the
withholding of alms to be called avarice, nor the giving up fasting to
be gluttony, but he terms it a high and excellent virtue of humility.

4. Under guise of giving correction the devil incites some either to
anger or to a put on anger. He does this that a person may go further
than he ought in correction, using injurious or insulting expressions;
or perhaps from anger, seeking rather the indulgence of a spiteful
malice than the culprit’s good. The devil often has another object to
gain, for by the rude harshness of the correction, the person found
fault with, instead of mending, becomes far worse than before. For to
gain a person to good an exceeding rigour is not near so efficacious as
a gentle, mild way. In like manner, impatience, injustice,
revengefulness, &c., are covered under the veil of correction; and such
correction is not really correction at all, but destruction.

5. Sometimes the devil, under pretext of a wise discretion, advises
more sleep and food, so as under colour of prudence to introduce into
the soul the vices of gluttony and sloth; forbidding fasts and
abstinence.

6. Heady and unruly persons the devil pushes sometimes to seek frequent
counsel of the wise, knowing well that they will not follow the advice
they receive, and so will sin on with less excuse than before.
Sometimes he gets foolish persons to confide blindly in foolish
advisers, so that the one who gives the advice, and the one who follows
it, may both perish together.

7. Sometimes the devil depreciates all counsel of man, and exhorts the
soul to look to God alone, and to expect from Him instruction in
prayer. Or he tells a man it is safest to rely on his own judgment.
For, says he, in this thing that you think to do, who knows better than
yourself how you should do it? You know the thing, you know your own
mind best, and you have best the faculty of carrying it out. Besides,
were you to ask counsel, those who give it would simply give such, very
likely, as would suit their own ends, either their own honour, or their
own gain. This temptation is much more dangerous and hurtful to persons
that are devout and of good intelligence than to others, and it is
indeed the height of pride.

8. Sometimes the devil has a trick of getting a man to speak things to
his own dispraise, or even to commit sins, to show people that he is
plainly not a hypocrite, and does not pretend to be over-good. Now this
great evil is evidently suggested by the devil. For by this mode of
speaking and acting against his own glory, a still more subtle pride
creeps in, since by acting in this fashion a man desires to be thought
truthful and honest, and one who nowise seeks his own praise; whereas
in his own mind this is the very thing he exceedingly burns with desire
for. This is often very plainly to be discerned. For when some one else
asserts the disgraceful things of the man, which he had said of
himself, he shows himself very much annoyed, and takes up the cudgels
in his own behalf, excusing himself hotly, and sounding the trumpet of
his own praise in clear and loud notes.

9. The good of the neighbour is sometimes made a cloak for undertaking
some noble and lofty enterprise. But the truth is, that our own
ostentation and glorying hide beneath this cover. And this is plain,
when he who would undertake it would rather the things were done by
himself than by any other person. For, if the thing could be done as
well or even better by another, and that it would be just as pleasing
to God that he should lose it as effect it, then to wish to do it shows
evidently that self and his own glory is mixed up with the work. In
fact, he would rather men knew the thing was effected through him than
through others. It is a sign that the work is undertaken, not solely
for God, hut with an admixture of self. By this s^me touchstone the
purity of our intention may be tested in other cases also.

10. Sometimes, under pretext of conforming to the ways and manners of
others, and not being singular, or some other good and laudable virtue,
the devil incites a person to eat and drink more than is fitting. So
again of dress and other like things. Very great discretion must
therefore be used in all things.

11. Sometimes a person holds his tongue as it were from the virtue of
silence when it is really from contempt, anger, or pride; and when he
ought to speak, he does not, either through want of courage, or through
human respect.

12. It happens also that under colour of a desire to know how to manage
some necessary or useful tiling, the enemy pushes a person to the
hearing and seeing of many dangerous things, through curiosity and a
craving to be acquainted with everything. Thence not unfrequently arise
great temptations of unclean thoughts and images, or perhaps hatred.
And even if nothing arise from thence, the thing itself is in a measure
damaging to the soul. For the mind becomes so filled with the images of
things seen and heard, that no peace or clear thought of God is
possible. All is now obscured.
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CHAPTER II.

Of Running into Opposite Extremes.

1. Our soul is sometimes full of sensible devotion, and this devotion
may come from God, by a divine gift, and it may be stirred up by a
simulation of the enemy of souls. Now in this heat of devotion, whether
from God or from his own working, the enemy exhorts the soul to make
indiscreet vows or rash oaths, that when the devotion is gone trouble
may succeed at being thus involved, and perhaps the promises may be
broken.

On the contrary, he at other times condemns all vows as indiscreet, and
so he prevents a man from making holy vows against sins to which he is
exceedingly prone, and by which he is vehemently tempted. This he does
to sink him deeply and irretrievably in the mire.

2. The devil sometimes moves persons to chide others in passion, and so
lose the fruit that might be expected. Some again he persuades to pass
over in silence the defects and sins of others, which they are bound in
charity to lay bare and reprehend, and he persuades them that it is a
charitable mildness, whereas, really, it is the ruin of all virtue.

3. The souls of some are filled by the old enemy with countless
scruples. He fills their consciences full of doubts and
over-strictness. By this means he takes away their courage to do good
works, and he causes that oftentimes they should sin. For though a
thing be good, yet if by an erroneous conscience we judge it to be bad,
and still do it, to us it is sin. The enemy has another worse end to
compass, namely, to get him who sins to fall into despair, judging
himself to be reprobate, and to be a damned soul, seeing that he
commits sin so often and so easily, and that he can in no way fulfil
what he fancies that God commands him.

The devil acts just in the opposite way with others, getting them to
sin freely with a secure and wide conscience, so that they neither fear
to sin, and after having sinned they have no repentance.

A third method of the enemy is to make the conscience broad till the
sin is committed, and afterwards to exaggerate the offence, showing its
heinousness, and its enormity. Sometimes again he fills the conscience
with fears where it has no right to fear. And in this he is like those
who, when boys are passing along the road, cry out to them, “You’ll
fall, you’ll fall,” so that through their fear they may really stumble
and fall. For to some the enemy cries out continually, “You are going
wrong, you are committing sin, you are sure to be damned.” Thus he
disturbs the peace and quiet of the conscience, so that such can
neither pray, nor set about any good work rightly. Now by this means he
strongly urges often to commit sin boldly, so as to get rid of these
scruples and fears by a large conscience: and this is a danger much
more fatal and wicked, for thus an unbridled audacity is assumed, which
cares for no precept, and judges nothing to be unlawful.

Now in all these temptations the middle pathway should be kept, wise
and discreet persons should be consulted, recourse should be had to
prayer, and above all things we should have a confidence in God mixed
with a great humility, hoping in His sweet mercy.

4. Sometimes the devil infuses into the soul a most wonderful
sweetness, having an appearance of devotion, that a man may rest
altogether in this delicious enjoyment, not really loving God, and not
rendering Him service, except only to get this delight by it.

But, again, at another time he will make the service of God hard and
irksome exceedingly, filling the spirit with sadness, so that it shall
seem that God has abandoned the soul. With this idea a man gives up his
prayer, and turns to fleshly pleasures, to get from them some
consolation. Thus those who love God with a love pure and unfeigned,
and those who merely cleave to Him for their own pleasure, are proved
and made known.

5. Some persons fancy they have a great spirit of prayer. So, instead
of doing that work which is their duty, or fulfilling some other thing
for those with whom they live, leaving all other occupations, even
those that are a duty, they wait upon God. Now this is a trick of the
devil, that in this leisure he may the more easily fill the mind with
unclean thoughts, or motions of rancour and anger, or temptations of
vain glory, or the abominable itch of singularity.

The devil often makes a person value the good which is done of their
own will, and which is in no way necessary, far higher than even a
tiling which is of obligation, and necessary to salvation. There are
people who would rather break a fast of the Church, than one which they
have set for themselves.

On the contrary, the devil urges some to continual active work, so that
they may never be able to recollect themselves, or to make a faithful
examen of their conscience. But moderation in both prayer and work is
best, taking each by turns, so as to temper the one by the other.

6. On pretext of a zeal for truth, for justice, or public utility, the
old enemy gets people to speak ill of their neighbour, and to do him a
serious injury, their real motive being anger or spite. Sometimes the
good or safety of others is made the plea, for the devil urges that a
man’s way of going on is likely to be dangerous to others, and his
malice ought to be published, that they may be on their guard, and not
to warn them would be against charity.

Now this fashion of dealing is highly risky, for those who are not the
judges of others, and are not in the appointed position to punish them.
Besides, to tell such like evils behind a person’s back, to those who
can in no way profit the person, or hinder the evils, what good can it
do?

Now, on the opposite side, the devil, sometimes by fears, through envy,
or detraction, gets people to hold their tongues about a man’s wicked
ways, to his own ruin and the horrible destruction of the souls of
others. The road then is full of snares, and it requires great
discrimination to walk with safety, and escape the dangers.

7. The adversary of man sometimes offers to the mind pleasing fleshly
thoughts, telling him that there is no danger in dwelling on them some
little while, he has only to withhold all consent to any plea sure in
them. Thus he gets a man to dally with the thoughts, and so burns and
inflames his mind with them, that they stick to him like pitch, and he
has hard to do to shake them off at last. There is no more wholesome
plan therefore than to deny them all entrance at the very outset.
Sometimes such hurtful thoughts arise from too close a study of the
state of a person’s married relations, by one who is single.

On the other hand, the minds of some are so flooded by the enemy with
vivid imaginations of unclean thoughts that they believe they are
sinning continually. For these thoughts come in whilst they are saying
their office, and praying to God. This, the enemy says, is horrible
wickedness. He therefore exhorts them to give their attention to
nothing else but this one thing, to root out completely these vile
imaginations. The wicked one knows very well that one might just as
well expect to be able to hold the wind in one’s fist, as to have power
to banish completely, root and branch, every foul imagination, without
hope of return.

It is not a mortal sin when foul thoughts touch the mind, but only when
we consent to embrace them with pleasure, and to rejoice in them, our
will favouring them. When they displease us, and are hateful to us, and
we have a horror of them, then there is no danger of mortal sin. We
ought to know that in work time, and when doing business affairs, we
cannot expect to have the same still serenity of mind as after a
longish period of quiet. To seek for it is a vain labour, and only a
temptation. These bad thoughts are often better put to flight by
neglecting them, and giving no attention to them, than by battling
against them. Occupy the mind with other things, and they will
presently go of themselves.

8. It happens sometimes that the devil persuades a man to be too
careful of his good fame, on the ground that to act otherwise would be
to be cruelly savage towards himself. Now this over-carefulness leads
to countless evils, for whenever such an one hears some fault has been
imputed to him, he straightway takes up the cudgels in his own defence,
bringing forward excuses for his conduct, and praising all his actions,
giving reasons for why he acts in this manner, and fancying by so doing
to shut the mouths of men. Now this is impossible.

One who acts like this falls thereby into various evils, into anger,
impatience, arrogance, and perturbation of mind. In order to maintain
his own innocence he sometimes accuses others, or reveals things which
it was his duty to keep strictly secret. By the same temptation he is
led into hypocrisy and simulation, by imagining that others are ever
occupied in scanning all his works. He does not wish to get the
applause of the world; all his aim, he thinks, is to give good example,
and secure himself from infamy. And he argues that when his good name
stands unhurt, men will esteem his example more, and get more profit
from his words. An opposite temptation to this is to hold cheap all
that men may say or think of one. We are neither worse nor better for
the opinion of men. So a man will say sometimes: A sin is just the same
sin whether it be open or secret. By this people fall into a very
careless way of living, and they justify themselves, saying, God knows
my conscience, that is enough for me; let others say and think as they
have a mind.

See, then, how hard it is to escape both snares, and so to walk on the
right path as to be caught neither by the one nor by the other, for
both are indeed most hurtful. . First, then, every one ought to
consider what sort of a work it is he would do, good or bad. For if it
be bad, by doing it openly he sins far more grievously. And in this
case he is bound to hide it, not through pride, but to take from others
an occasion of temptation, as also of evil speaking.

If the thing is good, but he knows that others, seeing it, may judge it
to be evil, and that they would be brought so to judge from simplicity,
or from not knowing the thing he does, or its motive; then, if the work
is not necessary to salvation, it should be left undone for the time,
or else its nature and goodness should be explained. Sometimes,
however, a person’s judgment of a thing comes from sheer malice; for
there are some people that hate to see the virtue of another. There is
nothing but what they try their tooth on. No attention is to be paid to
these, for it is impossible to shut the mouths of such. There is no use
in defending one’s character against them.

Here it may be remarked that, as the Apostle teaches, God has been very
often pleased to do sublime works by means of persons who were ignorant
and of no parts, and who were in no esteem; more often indeed than by
others. So a man ought not to wish that the good he does may be
commended, and much less should he blow his own trumpet, and sound
forth his own praise. All is to be left to God, who from nothing knows
how to work great and marvellous things. Besides, we often see that the
more careful a person is to make his innocence shine clear, or to bring
his good into notice, the less is he esteemed or cared for by others.
He profits himself far less, and others far less, in the ways of God.
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CHAPTER III.

Of Good as a Handle to Evil.

Although good things are always good, yet they are made, by the craft
of the devil^ a handle to evil. So he exhorts sometimes to high and
difficult undertakings of virtue, such as immoderate fasts, very
burdensome pilgrimages, and the like. He has various reasons. One is
that a man may not be able to complete the thing promised; another,
that by doing so some great damage may come to him, as for instance,
that by excessive fasting he may injure his brain, may be filled with
melancholy and oppressive sadness; or by the labours of a pilgrimage,
that he may give way to vehement impatience; or from desire of being
eminent in teaching others the swelling of pride may arise, or even the
evil of heresy.

2. Sometimes, from an anxiety to give abundant alms, men are led by the
devil to cheating, so as to get more money than is just or lawful. For
he well knows that it is much worse to be dishonest in one’s dealings
in order to give largely, than to give nothing, and utterly refuse all
unjust gains.

3. Sometimes the enemy infuses into the soul a great sensible sweetness
and moves her to tears, after going through a most severe and
immoderate fast. He does this to encourage the person to continue
indiscreet austerities, that thus the head may give way, and the brain
be injured, and that afterwards melancholy or anger may ensue, and the
body may be broken down. Or he wishes the person to give way to
singular habits and to set him up by pride.

Sometimes the devil gives these tears and sensible sweetnesses after a
very plentiful meal of meat and drink. And this he does to bring
fasting and abstinence into disrepute, and to encourage a person to
gluttonous living, as a means of procuring devotion.

4. The devil insinuates the vice of avarice, sometimes under colour of
a prudent care to provide security for declining years, sometimes the
object is to lay up a sum for the poor, or for the building of a
church. When the desire to get money is well established, he urges the
soul, for a good end, not to be too strict in conscience, but to allow
some fraud in buying and selling, or perhaps to swear falsely. No
mortal sin is, however, allowable, however praiseworthy the end to be
achieved may be.

5. The enemy has a trick also of hiding his working under the guise of
devotion towards holy and religious persons, and a spiritual
friendship; so that two persons, frequently talking, eating, and
laughing together, may lose their guard, and take little liberties in
joke, and that thus the holy and spiritual love may degenerate into an
abominable carnal affection, and at last lead to a most shameful end.

6. When a man has begun to speak with a good and holy intention, the
devil gets him to continue speaking; so that he may say words beside
the purpose, and be moved by anger, or by vain-glory; or he gets him to
think that the audience will think him dull if he does not tell them
some news, or some extraordinary thing, or something ingenious. The end
is that he talks in an unbridled manner, of what he knows and of what
he does not know. Or, perhaps, he speaks of things that ought not to
have been said before those persons, on account of their simplicity.
The tongue, then, should be always curbed and measured, in the middle
and end of our speaking, as well as at the beginning.

7. Sometimes the devil gives a man a fund of useful thoughts, but at
the wrong time, and simply to hinder prayer. For he sends these
thoughts for a bad end, and so at a very unsuitable time. For when we
are hearing or saying Mass, that is not a lawful time for planning, on
affairs of our household. At another time it would be very right and
expedient.

8. It happens sometimes that a thought of anger or revengefulness
shoots into the mind. Then this thought displeases the person, but the
devil gives him to understand that it is evident he does not fully and
freely forgive his enemy, therefore it would be wrong for him to say
the Lord’s prayer, or to receive the pax before communion. But if for
God’s sake a man wishes to love his enemy, he ought to, and he safely
can, say to God: Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that
trespass against us. If with the will we love our enemy that is a true
efficacious love.

9. Persons who fear God more than others, are tempted by the devil to
fear Him more still, and to be in continual terror in all they do. Such
persons as these should get clearly and solidly instructed to what they
are obliged by their state under pain of mortal sin, and what they are
not obliged to. It is not possible to obtain an infallible knowledge on
these points, but we may obtain a moral certainty, by the advice of
prudent men, by the good counsel of devout persons, by the Scriptures,
by the judgment of our own reason, by our confessor. Such a tempted
person ought to conform his opinion to the judgment of these before
mentioned. When, therefore, he has this kind of certitude, he may
justly be in peace, even though he have committed some negligences or
venial sins.

If, however, he becomes aware that he has failed in any principal
points, then he ought to repent, and in fitting time and place confess.
See, then, how necessary it is to be clear as to what is mortal sin,
and what is not, what are obligations and what not. Then, whatever a
person does over and above his obligations increases his merit and
grace. But to believe that we are always bound to do what is best is an
error, and to think that one who omits to do what he knows to be best,
has, therefore, committed a mortal sin, is a foolish mistake. One who
has these false fancies will never enjoy peace of conscience.
__________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER IV.

Of Curiosity in Various Ways.

I. Curiosity is made a snare of by the enemy of souls, and to some
persons he gives a great craving to behold some miracle, or to have
revelations. Then, either in sleep or when awake, he shows to such
certain deceitful appearances, to allure them to falsehood under the
guise of truth, or to lift them up to pride. The devout soul ought
therefore to flee such desires and detest them above all things. What
others have experienced in these matters ought to be enough for us.

2. Sometimes the enemy pushes a man on to look into the sins of
another, either to show them up and take away his good name, or that he
may lose all love for him, and despise him, or that all wholesome
counsel from his mouth may be rejected, or that all he does may be
attributed to some bad intention. If the sins we observe are in our
superior, he gives them as a reason why we should not be bound to obey
him. If they are in a subject, they are esteemed a valid reason for
most cruel treatment, and that such an one should be corrected without
any mercy. Or again, the enemy tempts us to think that because we do
not the like sins, we are therefore much better, and so he leads us
perhaps into that pride which makes us really much worse. For this
pride is a sin far more grievous than all the defects which, with such
diligence and curiosity, we explore and consider in our neighbour.

We ought, then, to turn away our eyes from the looking on our
neighbour’s faults, and employ them in beholding our own. If we have
the duty of examining or searching into the sins of others, it should
be done with great compassion; for if we pity people for diseases of
the body, how much more ought we to grieve for their diseases of the
soul.

We ought also to pray God for them, considering that our own sins are
still more grievous, or at least, had it not been for God’s mercy, we
should have been entangled in more heinous crimes. He who does not
implore the divine mercy on the sins of others, as well as on his own,
seems really guilty of hating his neighbour.

3. By curiosity, in searching into the wealth of our neighbour, the
enemy of souls leads some into envy, trouble of mind, and melancholy.
For by the sight of the pomp of riches, of carriages and horses,
servants, fine clothing, &c., the mind becomes inflamed with
covetousness, and a restless desire to be possessed of the same earthly
glory.

4. A prying mind that would search too subtilly lays itself open to the
most foolish and hurtful suspicions. The devil has a great hold of some
souls by making them continually surmise that this or that thing was
done for the very purpose of vexing them, or to make a mock of them, or
to do them some injury. By these silly suspicions and misunderstandings
temptations arise between husband and wife, between brother and sister,
between friend and friend. To suspect easily is a most fatal evil, for
such suspicions, after having worked incredible mischief, are almost
always discovered to be utterly groundless. They ought therefore never
to be listened to. But if it is found impossible to get rid of them, it
is a good plan that the one suspecting should ask of the other some
satisfaction or explanation of the thing that causes the suspicion, so
that there may be an opportunity of giving a reason that may dissipate
all these doubtings.

But the devil takes good care often that the person he tempts shall
keep the temptation quite a secret in his own heart. By this secrecy he
prevents all hope of the clearing up of the circumstances that cause
it, and he adds to it safely, as no opportunity of excuse or
explanation is given.

However, sometimes he uses the very opposite method, and gets the
person to blurt out his suspicions in a hot, rash manner, and most
unseasonably. By this means a fierce tempest of anger is excited, which
ends perhaps in the most malignant hatred. For the person feeling
injured by the suspicion says to himself, “So this is the opinion that
this man entertains of me, to suspect me so vilely without all reason.
What have I done to merit it? Can he have a friend’s feelings towards
me who can so suspect?” The devil then makes his gains both ways, by
silence and by speaking.

5. Some are tempted by the devil with a vehement longing to be present
at the festival of a wedding, or other worldly vanities, and he so
arranges that at the time, although they witness things and hear things
not proper or modest, yet they feel in no way tempted against chastity.
This makes them very bold on this point, thinking they have reached a
high degree of purity. Then by their presumption they give way to a
proud elation, or they are emboldened to venture themselves more, and
fall into immodest sins, or into very unclean thoughts. This does not
always happen in the place, but perhaps afterwards, when they are
alone, and when all they have seen and heard returns and fills their
memory. It is safest, then, never to risk oneself needlessly, but to
avoid the danger, and to put no trust in one’s virtue.

6. The devil sometimes pushes a man to search into his predestination,
to inquire whether God has destined him to glory, or foreknown that he
will perish everlastingly. Then, if he thinks himself predestined to
glory, he runs a danger of being lifted up by a presumptuous
confidence; and if he think the contrary, he goes headlong into a
reckless despair. A man, then, ought not to form a judgment either way,
but he should hope in the mercy of God, with a great fear of the
strictness of His justice.

7. Sometimes a man is tempted to question within himself whether he
would rather die, or would choose instead to be damned for ever; or
again, whether he would be willing to commit a mortal sin rather than
die. Now, if he choose rather to be damned, or to commit a mortal sin,
rather than to die, he does by such a choice sin grievously, for we may
not offend God to escape any misfortune whatsoever. But if he affirm
that he would choose the other part, first, it may be a lie on his
part, or self-deceit; then again, he may fall into a boastful
arrogance, on account of the seeming firmness of his virtue. Such
manner of questions, then, ought to be avoided. If they arise in the
mind, we should reject them without giving any answer to them. Instead
of answering, we should say to God, “Thou knowest my frailty, O Lord; I
confess that even a small pain would make me fall from Thee, were it
not fpr the help of Thy grace. I cast myself therefore into Thy hands,
beseeching of Thee never to let me be so tempted as to consent to
transgress Thy commandments.”

By this means we may safely pass over this perilous and malicious snare
of the devil, that is, by acknowledging with lowly mind our own proper
frailty, but putting all hope and trust in God, and by refusing to form
any judgment on the matter. We know how S. Peter, when he had declared
that he would rather die than deny our Lord, afterwards broke his
promise, and forsook Him. Very many others act in the same way,
thinking before they are tempted that they would be willing to suffer
anything rather than sin, as though they could avoid sin by their own
power only, without the help of God’s grace.

8. Another temptation of a somewhat similar kind is this. When a person
remembers some wickedness he did in his past life, by which
nevertheless he enjoys some present good; as, for instance, by
fornication or by adultery he has a child whom he loves intensely. Then
comes the question to his mind, Would you rather have not sinned, and
be deprived of this child, or have this child, consenting to the sin
for it? Now, as in the former temptation, so here, whichever way he
answers he runs the risk of being caught in a snare. The remedy, then,
is not to answer the question. However, a man may grieve for the sin,
and that by the sin he had a child, without grieving absolutely
because. he has a child.

9. There comes sometimes the question before the mind as to whether we
be worse than other men, or than this or that man. From this source
arise many sins, such as falsehood, pride, rash judgment. One so
tempted should therefore reply, “Whatsoever proceeds from me, from my
own fund, is sin; if there be in me any good it is of the grace of God,
and God can equally give to any other what He gives to me. Now, when I
have nothing of my own but sin, what use is there for me to compare
myself with others, since I am of myself most wicked?”

10. The enemy places often before the eyes of the soul the graces and
gifts that are in her, to puff her up, and make her despise others.
Now, a person so tempted ought to consider that if he does not use the
gifts of God well he incurs greater perils, and will receive a more
intolerable damnation. Or he may remember that there is no one, however
wicked, who might not perhaps use the graces he has better than
himself, so that he may not judge any one, Jew or Gentile, to De worse
than himself, and all may be better.

11. A temptation not uncommon to repentant souls is to examine whether
their contrition is such as God will accept of, and they argue that for
some temporal misfortune they grieve and weep far more than for having
offended God by sin. They consider, then, that their contrition is
evidently not sufficient But we should know that it is not necessary
that we should feel so great a sensible sorrow for sin as perhaps we do
for some earthly loss or misfortune. It is enough that the sin
displeases us, and that we will never to offend God by the like sin any
more. We are not obliged to wish rather to die, or to be damned, or to
be stripped of all our goods, than to sin, or than to sin in this or
that manner.

Again, we are not obliged to have a sorrow answering to the divine
immensity, which we have offended, for that were impossible. For the
Godhead is infinite, but our sorrow at the very utmost can only be
finite. The above-named sorrow, then, is enough.

It is true indeed that that sorrow is the best which is greatest in
both soul and body, if only discretion is used in the sorrow of the
body. For by bodily sorrow the health may give way, or the reason be
injured.

Many temptations are avoided by the above mode of dealing, which are
wont to arise when a person fears that he is never sorry enough, or
that he has not done what he is bound to. He has done what he is bound
to for salvation; but what we are bound to in consideration of the
exalted nature of the Godhead, this we cannot do. We cannot repay Him
the benefits He bestows. But our indulgent Father does not expect this
of us. By His wondrous kindness it suffices to make us His friends, if
only in certain number, and at certain times, we do the things He has
commanded us under pain of eternal damnation.

Now all these precepts are contained in two, to love God above all
things, and to love our neighbour as ourself. But if it be asked, what
is signified by loving God above all things, I answer, plainly and
simply, It is so to love Him as to love nothing else in such a way as
to make you lose thereby the love of God. To love our neighbour as
ourself is to wish eternal salvation for him, and grace in this present
life, and also to do for him whatever in justice and reason we would
wish him to do for us in the like case. For it is evident that one who
is a judge ought not to will to set a robber free from gaol, though
perhaps were he himself in prison he would wish, contrary to reason, to
be set free. An answer may in like manner be given to various other
temptations of this kind.

12. A penitent will sometimes inquire of himself whether he has now a
firm purpose not to sin again. Then the devil proposes doubts to him,
especially telling how frail he is, that he still falls often, and
perhaps even daily. The penitent however ought to consider that it is
perfectly true that he cannot through his own strength hope to escape
sin. He ought not to say that he will never sin again, for to say so
would be presumption; nor ought he to judge that he will sin, for this
would be already to transgress. It is enough, then, to make a firm
purpose, with the help of God, to avoid sin, and to use diligence to do
so, and by one’s present will to give no consent to sin for the future.

13. When a person is going to communion the thought of his unworthiness
comes sometimes into his mind, and a doubt whether he ought to
approach; a doubt, too, perhaps, whether he has rightly confessed his
sins, for he feels as if he had not made a real good confession. But
such an one ought to consider that he never can by his own strength
make himself worthy to approach the sacrament of the altar, no, not if
he laboured to prepare himself for a hundred years. For this is
required a divine gift, and God can give that at once just as easily as
in a hundred years.

Again, he ought to consider that in this life no one can tell, with an
infallible certitude, whether he be in a state of grace or not, whether
he be truly penitent or not, whether he has made a good confession or
not, unless God were to let him know by a special revelation. Therefore
he who will not go to communion unless he has this certainty deceives
himself, and seems guilty of a kind of pride.

There is, however, a moral certainty, which in our purpose is required,
and which suffices. And this we have, when, in our recollection and
examen of conscience, we find we have done that, which both our own
discretion and the good counsel of others suggested, and have for some
time been wont commonly so to do. But if our own judgment should not
accuse us of mortal sin, then there is no new peril in going to holy
communion, even though, as it may often happen, some slight doubts may
come into our mind. These doubts we ought to repel, and we ought to
force ourselves to act contrary to them. I call that a slight doubt,
when a person judges of a thing, rather that it is just and good, than
that it is evil; yet some reasons or thoughts occur to the mind,
leading to some hesitation, but still the first judgment appears far
the most certain. Now if both sides seem equally probable, we ought to
stop till we get more ground for decision one side or other, either by
the help of our own reason, or by consultation with others, or by a
divine inspiration obtained through prayer. For unless in this mode a
person obtain security in himself, he will always judge that he has
made a bad confession, and will never feel easy or at peace, and this
can never be good.
__________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER V.

Other Deceits of the Devil.

1. The devil does not always tempt a man unceasingly, but at certain
times there is a lull. Then a man begins to think himself secure, and
to neglect all precautions of defence, and the enemy rushes on him all
of a sudden, when he is quite unprepared for the assault, and darts at
him some fierce temptations of hatred, envy, lust, and the like.

This lull has, however, sometimes another object, namely, to cause
pride. For, seeing that no temptation assaults him, a man is sometimes
thereby lifted up, supposing that now he has vanquished all his
enemies, and completely routed them, so that he has merited from God to
be left in peace. Or again, he takes occasion therefrom to despise
those who are still tossed with temptation.

2. The devil will often allow a man at peace to do many good works,
provided only that in one point he sin deeply. If he has one free
entrance into the castle of the soul, he thinks it enough, he is secure
of its capture. This temptation, however, he often keeps concealed till
death is coming. Then he is wont to fight more fiercely, and with more
crafty cunning, knowing that, if he then fail, he will completely lose
everything.

3. When any one hears another detracting some one, and dislikes the
detraction, yet the devil often manages that through human respect he
should confirm the evil that is said, or at least that he should be
silent; for the devil knows that it is no small sin either to detract,
or to hear patiently one’s neighbour thus lessened. For such an one
ought to show how he dislikes the detraction, and this he may do,
either by word, or by a grave countenance, or some other mode. He could
say to the detractor that it would be much better to tell, about his
good deeds than his evil ones, or that it would be better to tell of
his deeds to himself, so that he might amend, instead of speaking of
them to another.

4. Dreams are made by the devil to some an occasion of great
superstition, for by some an absolute credence is given to them,
contrary to the precept of the Church of God, as if by dreams one could
tell with certainty of future events. Other omens are in the same
manner believed, as, for instance, ths^t to meet a dog or a hare in the
morning is the sure sign of an un lucky day.

Now the simple people are so full of manifold superstitions that it
fills one with horror to even think of it. The devil puts these things
into their minds to displease God, for he knows that men thereby
confide, and put their trust rather in these things than in God. These
superstitions are imprinted on their hearts, because they will not
listen or give heed to the wise, and because they have such wicked
minds that whatever happens they attribute it to some mad folly. For
instance, if some good happens, they say at once, “I thought this would
happen, for I saw such and such a thing in a dream.” Nor do they thank
God, attributing to Him, as the Author of all good, that which they
have received, but with impious credulity they refer it to another
source.

But as it often happens that some evil happened to them the same day,
they say it happened because they saw something, or because a dog or a
hare met them.

With the same folly they attribute a cure to some short form of words
uttered, or some such like charm, not to God or nature. These things
have no reason, and are strictly forbidden by holy Church. Far better
to have recourse to God and to His Saints, and to trust in them, than
in such mad follies. Let all thus beware of such melancholy fancies,
and especially dissuade the young from having any confidence in them.
For it is hard to root out of the mind what we have imbibed when we
were young.

5. A good life has its difficulties, and is not always pleasant. The
enemy sometimes fills the mind with sadness, and counsels to seek
consolation in worldly delights. Two evils arise from this; the first,
that not unfrequently people give way to foolish talking, and even draw
others into sin; the second evil is, that the sadness of mind and
disrelish of spiritual things becomes aggravated by this mode of
treatment. For though a little worldly solace may have brought relief
for the time, the spiritual sadness becomes worse than before. One,
then, who would be rid of it must resist it stoutly; then it will
depart, never to return.

6. Sometimes the enemy counsels a person to give way to some sin just
for once, that being satisfied to the full, the desire of it may then
cease, and there may be no more return to it. Now he does this,
knowing, first, that a great sin will be thereby committed, and
secondly, because, though a full satiety will take away the desire just
for a time, yet the desire will afterwards return with increased force.
When persons in a fever get a drink of cold water, they are for the
moment greatly relieved, but afterwards the burning thirst is still
more afflicting. So, when lust is satisfied, the desires are afterwards
more vehement than before. So again, those who have an itch find relief
by scratching, but the diseased skin is made worse by their yielding,
whereas, if only for a little while they overcome the desire, and
endure their pain, by and by it ceases of itself, or .at least it
becomes tolerable.

7. It may, then, be taken as a general rule that as the good Angels
turn all events, whether adverse or prosperous, whether good or evil,
to the profit of the soul, to its salvation and perfection, so the
devil, on the contrary, turns everything to its hurt. If any one
abounds in riches, the enemy tries to make him abuse them, either by
pride, by luxury, by usury, or by wrong acquisitions. Our good Angel,
on the contrary, strives to make us thankful to God for them. He
persuades us to give large alms, and to be content with the goods we
have acquired. So in the consideration of beauty, strength, knowledge,
rank, high reputation, and their contraries, such as deformity,
poverty, obscurity, our good Angel knows how to turn all to profit, and
the devil knows how to turn all to our ill. For instance, the devil
excites a person to enter Religion that afterwards he may leave it. But
the good Angel endeavours that he may persevere in it and be constant.
The devil tempts with pride and envy, but the good Angel encourages him
to resist stoutly, and so merit more. By temptations a man is thus
often benefited, so that the devil ceases sometimes to tempt, lest by
vanquishing the temptation the goodness of a man should be augmented.

Against all the manifold temptions of the wicked one there is but one
general remedy, as was revealed to S. Anthony, and that is humility, by
which a man puts his whole trust in the help of God and of His Saints,
attributing all his victories to the grace of God alone.

But though all is to be attributed to God’s grace, a man must not on
this account grow slack in rendering due service to God in the keeping
of His commandments. For as we must attribute man’s salvation to the
mercy of God, so it must be borne in mind that by negligence man may
render himself unworthy of this mercy.

Now, if the devil should say to a man, “Whatever you do, God knows
already whether you will be saved or will be damned, and it cannot be
altered;” let him answer, “Whatever God may have decreed concerning me,
He is still always worthy to be loved and worshipped, nor can He prove
false to those who serve Him; to those who do their best He will
infallibly give the eternal glory of heaven. Although my own eternal
lot is unknown to me, yet I know well that a good life leads to a good
end, nor ought I, on account of this uncertainty, to fail in my duty to
my God. Nay, as a sick man does all he can for his cure, though he
knows not if his efforts shall succeed, so must I strive more and more
for this great end.”

In conclusion, it must be said that nothing instructs a man in the
foregoing temptations and all others as the grace of God; and this
grace is obtained by devout prayer, a deep humility, and heartfelt
contrition. This grace, by the merits and intercessions of all the
Saints, may the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit mercifully vouchsafe to
us. Amen.

On this day…

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