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
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
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
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
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.
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;
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,
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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.
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
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
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,”
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,
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,
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
Although good things are always
good, yet they are made, by the
craft of the devil^ a handle to evil.
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,
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
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
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
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
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
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 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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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,
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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.
Richardson and Son, Printers, Derby.