The fourth temptation, cousin, that the prophet speaketh of in the
fore-remembered psalm is plain open persecution. And it is touched
in these words: _"Ab incursu et demonio meridiano."_
And of all his temptations, this is the most perilous, the most
bitter, the most sharp, and the most rigorous. For in other
temptations he useth either pleasant allectives unto sin, or other
secret sleights and snares; and cometh in the night and stealeth on
in the dark unaware; or in some other part of the day flieth and
passeth by like an arrow; so shaping himself sometimes in one
fashion, sometimes in another, and dissimulating himself and his
high mortal malice, that a man is thereby so blinded and beguiled
that he cannot sometimes perceive well what he is. But in this
temptation, this plain open persecution for the faith, he cometh
even in the very midday--that is, even upon those who have a high
light of faith shining in their hearts--and he openly suffereth
himself to be perceived so plainly, by his fierce malicious
persecution against the faithful Christians, for hatred of Christ's
true Catholic faith, that no man having faith can doubt what he is.
For in this temptation he showeth himself such as the prophet
nameth him, "the midday devil," so lightsomely can he be seen with
the eye of the faithful soul, by his fierce furious assault and
incursion. For therefore saith the prophet that the truth of God
shall compass that man round about who dwelleth in the faithful
hope of his help with a shield "from the incursion and the devil of
the midday," because this kind of persecution is not a wily
temptation but a furious force and a terrible incursion. In other
of his temptations, he stealeth on like a fox, but in this Turk's
persecution for the faith, he runneth on roaring with assault like
a ramping lion.
This temptation is, of all temptations, also the most perilous. For
in temptations of prosperity he useth only delectable allectives to
move a man to sin; and in other kinds of tribulation and adversity
he useth only grief and pain to pull a man into murmuring,
impatience, and blasphemy. But in this kind of persecution for the
faith of Christ he useth both twain--that is, both his allectives
of quiet and rest by deliverance from death and pain, with other
pleasures also of this present life, and besides that the terror
and infliction of intolerable pain and torment.
In other tribulation--as loss, or sickness, or death of our
friends---though the pain be peradventure as great and sometimes
greater too, yet is not the peril nowhere nigh half so much. For in
other tribulations, as I said before, that necessity that the man
must perforce abide and endure the pain, wax he never so wroth and
impatient with it, is a great reason to move him to keep his
patience in it and be content with it and thank God for it and of
necessity make a virtue, that he may be rewarded for it. But in
this temptation, this persecution for the faith--I mean not by
fight in the field, by which the faithful man standeth at his
defence and putteth the faithless in half the fear and half the
harm too; but I mean where he is taken and held, and may for the
forswearing or denying of his faith be delivered and suffered to
live in rest and some in great worldly wealth also. In this case, I
say, since he needeth not to suffer this trouble and pain unless he
will, there is a marvellous great occasion for him to fall into the
sin that the devil would drive him to--that is, the forsaking of
the faith.
And therefore, I say, of all the devil's temptations, this
temptation, this persecution for the faith, is the most perilous.
VINCENT: The more perilous, uncle, this temptation is--as indeed,
of all the temptations, the most perilous it is--the more need have
those who stand in peril of it to be well armed against it
beforehand, with substantial advice and good counsel. For so may we
the better bear that tribulation when it cometh, with the comfort
and consolation thereof, and the better withstand the temptation.
ANTHONY: You say, Cousin Vincent, therein very truth. And I am
content therefore to fall in hand with it.
But forasmuch, cousin, as methinketh that of this tribulation you
are somewhat more afraid than I--and of truth somewhat more
excusable it is in you than it would be in me, mine age considered
and the sorrow that I have suffered already, with some other
considerations upon my part besides--rehearse you therefore the
griefs and pains that you think in this tribulation possible to
fall unto you. And I shall against each of them give you counsel
and rehearse you such occasion of comfort and consolation as my
poor wit and learning can call unto my mind.
VINCENT: In good faith, uncle, I am not wholly afraid in this case
only for myself, but well you know I have cause to care also for
many others, and that folk of sundry sorts, men and women both, and
that not all of one age.
ANTHONY: All that you have cause to fear for, cousin, for all of
them, have I cause to fear with you, too, since almost all your
kinsfolk are likewise kin to me. Howbeit, to say the truth, every
man hath cause in this case to fear both for himself and for every
other. For since, as the scripture saith, "God hath given every man
care and charge of his neighbour," there is no man who hath any
spark of Christian love and charity in his breast but what, in a
matter of such peril as this is, in which the soul of man standeth
in so great danger to be lost, he must needs care and take thought
not only for his friends but also for his very foes. We shall
therefore, cousin, not rehearse your harms or mine that may befall
in this persecution, but all the great harms in general, as near as
we can call to mind, that may happen unto any man.