plagued in this manner because you believe in Christ. For you see
that the most wrathful enemies of the Gospel, as, for instance, Eck,
Zwingli, and others, are suffered to be at ease and happy. All of us who
are Christians must have the devil for our adversary and enemy, as Peter
says: 'Your adversary, the devil, goeth about,' etc., 1 Pet. 5, 8.
Dearest Jerome, you must rejoice over these onslaughts of the devil,
because they are a sure sign that you have a gracious and merciful God.
You will say: This affliction is more grievous than I can bear; you fear
that you will be overcome and vanquished, so that you are driven to
blasphemy and despair. I know these tricks of Satan: if he cannot
overcome the person whom he afflicts at the first onset, he seeks to
exhaust and weaken him by incessantly attacking him, in order that the
person may succumb and acknowledge himself beaten. Accordingly, whenever
this affliction befalls you, beware lest you enter into an argument with
the devil, or muse upon these death-dealing thoughts. For this means
nothing else than to yield to the devil and succumb to him. You must
rather take pains to treat these thoughts which the devil instils in you
with the severest contempt. In afflictions and conflicts of this kind
contempt is the best and easiest way for overcoming the devil. Make up
your mind to laugh at your adversary, and find some one whom you can
engage in a conversation. You must by all means avoid being alone, for
then the devil will make his strongest effort to catch you; he lies in
wait for you when you are alone. In a case like this the devil is
overcome by scorning and despising him, not by opposing him and arguing
with him. My dear Jerome, you must engage in merry talk and games with
my wife and the rest, so as to defeat these devilish thoughts, and you
must be intent on being cheerful. This affliction is more necessary to
you than food and drink. I shall relate to you what happened to me when
I was about your age. When I entered the cloister, it happened that at
first I always walked about sad and melancholy, and could not shake off
my sadness. Accordingly, I sought counsel and confessed to Dr. Staupitz,
--I am glad to mention this man's name. I opened my heart to him,
telling him with what horrid and terrible thoughts I was being visited.
He said in reply: Martin, you do not know how useful and necessary this
affliction is to you; for God does not exercise you thus without a
pur