Chapter XXXII. Of the last above-named Assault and Stratagem, whereby the Devil tries to make the Virtues we have acquired the Occasions of our Ruin

THE crafty and malicious serpent fails not to tempt us by his subtle devices through the virtues we have acquired. With these he would work our ruin, by inducing us to think too much of them or of ourselves, and thus would lead us to lift up ourselves on high, and thereby to fall into the sin of pride and vain-glory.

To protect yourself from this danger, always fight your own battle, placing yourself on the safe and level ground of a true and deep conviction that you are nothing, that you know nothing, that you can do nothing, and that you have nothing of your own but misery and imperfection, and that you deserve nothing but eternal damnation.

Secure and entrench yourself within the bounds of this truth, and never suffer yourself to be drawn aside one single hair's-breadth from it, by any thought or any events which may happen to you, being convinced that such are only so many enemies who want to slay and wound you, if they could only get you into their hands.

If you would exercise yourself well in this field of the knowledge of your own nothingness, use the following rule:—

Whenever you are occupied with the thought of yourself or of your own doings, ever reflect upon what you are of yourself, and not upon what is of God and of His grace; and then estimate yourself, according to that only which you are of yourself.

If you consider the time before you were created, you will see that through all that abyss of eternity you were absolutely nothing, and that you did nothing, and could in no way minister to your own creation.

And now, through the Goodness of God only, having been created, if you leave to Him that which is His—His continual Government, whereby He sustains you every moment—what are you of yourself now but still equally nothing?

For it is certain, that, if He were for the slightest moment to withdraw from you, you would return to your original nothingness, out of which His Almighty Hand drew you. It is clear, then, that you have no ground in this natural being, viewed by itself alone, either for thinking highly of yourself, or for wishing others to think highly of you.

As to that blessed gift of grace within you, or the good works you have been enabled to perform, what good or meritorious action could you by your natural strength have ever done, if you had been deprived of Divine assistance?

If, on the other hand, you call to mind the number of your past faults, and the multitude of sins of which, but for the merciful Hand of God holding you back, you would also have been guilty, you will find, by reckoning up the days and years as well as the acts and habits of sin (for one vice draws another after it) that your iniquities will have become, as it were, innumerable, so that you would be changed into another infernal Lucifer. If, therefore, you would not rob God of His Glory, but ever cleave to your Lord, you must learn day by day to think worse of yourself.

Be careful to deal honestly in the judgment you pass upon yourself, or else you may incur no little harm. For although by this knowledge of your own wickedness you may surpass another, who in his blindness imagines himself to be something, yet you will lose much, and make yourself worse than he is in the motives of your heart, if you desire to be esteemed by men, and to pass for that which you know you are not.

If, then, you wish that this knowledge of your sinfulness and vileness may protect you from your enemies, and make you dear to God, you must not only strive to despise yourself, as unworthy of all good, and deserving of all evil, but you must love to be despised by others, detesting their compliments, delighting in their blame, and stooping, whenever an opportunity offers, to do that which others regard with contempt.

And, lest you should be deterred from this wholesome exercise, pay no account to the judgment which others may form of you, but go on with what you are doing, with the simple view of your own self-abasement and discipline; beware, however, of that presumptuous spirit and subtle pride, which oftentimes, under some specious pretext, causes us to disregard the opinions of others.

Keep firm and recollected within yourself, if at any time it should happen to you to be loved, or regarded as good by others, for some grace which God has bestowed upon you, and do not allow yourself to be drawn aside one step from that which is true and right as to your own nothingness, but turn first to God, and say to Him from your heart, "Keep me, O Lord, from ever robbing Thee of Thy Glory and Grace. To Thee be praise, honour, and glory, but to me confusion of face." Then, turning to him who is praising you, say inwardly, as if addressing him—"How is it that he regards me as good, when in reality my God Alone and His works are good?"

Humble yourself in this manner, and give to the Lord that which is His own, and thus you will put to flight your enemies, and fit yourself to receive greater gifts and favours from God.

And if you are tempted to vanity by looking back upon some good works you have done, regard them at once as God's works, and not your own, and say in your heart, as if addressing them—"I know not how ye did appear or begin to be in my mind, for ye did not derive your origin from me; but the good God and His Grace created, nourished and preserved you. Him only, then, will I acknowledge as your true and first Father, Him will I thank, and to Him will I give all praise on your account.

Consider, then, that not only do all the works which you have done fall short of the light and grace which has been bestowed upon you, in order that you may have the knowledge and power to do them, but that they are exceedingly imperfect, and greatly lack that pure intention, proper care and fervency, accompanied with which they should be wrought.

If you will look at them in this light, you will find cause for shame rather than complacency, for it is but too true that the graces which were pure and perfect when they came from God are sullied by our imperfect use of them.

After this, compare your works with those of the Saints, and other servants of God; for by such a comparison you will clearly see that your best and greatest deeds are of much baser metal, and of little worth.

Then, proceed to compare them with those which Christ wrought for you in the Mysteries of His Life and of His continuous Cross; consider His works in themselves apart from His Divinity, and in the affection and purity of that love with which He wrought them, and you will clearly see that all your works are precisely nothing.

And lastly, if you will lift up your thoughts to the Divinity and boundless Majesty of your God, and to the service which He deserves, you will plainly perceive, that the amount of what you have done for Him ought rather to be a ground of considerable fear than of vanity. Therefore, in all your ways, in all your works, however holy they may be, you must cry unto the Lord with all your heart: "God, be merciful to me, a sinner."

I would further counsel you to be reserved in speaking of the gifts which God has given you, for to publish them is almost always displeasing to your Lord, as He Himself clearly teaches us in the following lesson.

Appearing, as it is said, once to a devout and pure creature of His in the form of a little child, she asked him, with much simplicity, to repeat the Angelical Salutation. He at once began: "Hail, Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee, blessed art thou among women;" then He stopped, unwilling to praise Himself in the words which follow. And whilst she was urging Him to proceed, He withdrew from her, leaving His servant full of consolation, because of the heavenly doctrine which, by His example, He had taught her.

Do you also, beloved, learn to humble yourself, and to acknowledge yourself to be nothing, and your works to be nothing also. This is the foundation of all other virtues.

God, when we had no being, created us out of nothing; and now that through Him we have a being, He wills that the whole spiritual fabric should be based on this foundation, namely, the knowledge of our own nothingness. And the deeper this knowledge becomes, the higher will the building rise. And according as we dig out the earth of our own wretchedness, so much the more will the Divine Architect bring the most solid stones to advance the building.

Never imagine, beloved, that you can ever dig deep enough; but, on the contrary, believe this of yourself, that if any thing in a creature could be infinite, it would be your vileness.

With this knowledge, practically carried out, we possess all good; without it, we should be little better than nothing, though we had done all the works of the Saints, and were ourselves continually occupied with God.

O blessed knowledge, which makes us happy on earth and glorious in Heaven! O light, which rises out of darkness, and brightly illuminates the soul! O unspeakable joy, which shines amidst our impurities! O nothingness, which, when known, puts all things in our power!

I should never tire of telling you this:—if you will praise God, accuse yourself, and desire to be accused by others. Humble yourself with all, and bend beneath all, if you would exalt Him in yourself and yourself in Him. If you would find Him, exalt not yourself, for if you do, He will fly from you.

Abase yourself, abase yourself to the utmost, and He will seek you and embrace you; arid the more you humble yourself in your own sight, and are content to be regarded as worthless by others, and to be cast aside as an abominable thing, the more tenderly and lovingly will He welcome you and draw you to His Side.

Reckon yourself unworthy of this so great a gift which God vouchsafes to you, Who, to unite you to Himself, suffered shame for your sake. Fail not to render to Him continual thanks, and consider yourself under an obligation to those who have given you an opportunity of humbling yourself, and still more to those who have trampled upon you, and who, in addition to this, think that you are not taking it well, but badly. And, even if it is so, you ought to hide the feeling.

If, notwithstanding all these considerations, which are but too true, the subtlety of the Devil, and our own ignorance and bad inclinations, should so prevail within us, that thoughts of our own superiority still disquiet us, and will make their impressions on our hearts, then from that very fact we may draw an argument for humbling ourselves in our own eyes; for such thoughts show us that we are far behind in the spiritual life, and in the true knowledge of ourselves, seeing that we are unable to shake off these annoyances which spring from our empty pride. By this means, from the poison we may extract honey, from the wounds the cure.