The second temptation usually concerns despair; and with this temptation the Devil is accustomed to vex not only wicked men, but also sometimes very devout ones. And indeed, when death is at hand, he drags very wicked men easily enough down into the abyss of despair; for he sets before the eyes of the mind absolutely all the crimes they committed while they lived, as the Venerable Bede writes of a certain soldier in book V of the History of his nation, whose words are these (bk. V, ch. 14): « There was a certain man in the days of Coenred, who reigned after Ethelred, a man placed in the lay habit and in military office; but as much as he pleased the king by his outward industry, so much did he displease him by his inward neglect of himself. The king therefore earnestly admonished him to confess, to amend, and to abandon his crimes, lest by the sudden coming of death he should lose all time for repentance and amendment. But he, though frequently admonished, despised the words of salvation, and promised that he would do penance at a later time. Meanwhile, stricken by illness, he took to his bed and began to be tormented by sharp pain. The king went in to him (for he loved him dearly) and earnestly exhorted him that even then, before he died, he should do penance for the things he had committed. But he answered that he would not then confess his sins, but when he should rise up again from his sickness, lest perchance his companions should reproach him for doing out of fear of death what he had refused to do while in health. He spoke bravely indeed, as it seemed to himself, but he was led astray by the Devil's deceit. And when, his sickness growing worse, the king went in again to visit and admonish him, he at once cried out in a wretched voice: "What do you want now? Why have you come here? For you can no longer confer upon me any benefit or salvation." But the king said: "Do not speak so; see that you keep a sound mind." "I am not mad," he said, "but I hold certainly before my eyes a most wicked conscience. A little while ago two most beautiful youths came in to me and sat down beside me, one at my head and one at my feet; and one of them brought forth a most beautiful little book, but a very small one, and gave it me to read; and looking into it, I found written therein all the good things whatsoever I had done, and these were exceedingly few and small. Then suddenly there came upon me a host of malignant and horrid spirits. Then he who seemed the greatest, by the darkness of his gloomy aspect and the preeminence of his seat, brought forth a book dreadful to behold, of enormous size and almost unbearable weight, and ordered one of his attendants to bring it to me to read. And when I had read it, I found all my sins — not only those I had committed in deed or word, but even in the slightest thought — most plainly inscribed in it in black letters." Thus the wretch spoke in despair; and not long afterwards he died, and the penance which he had refused to do for a short time with the fruit of pardon, he does for ever without fruit, subjected to punishments. » So far the Venerable Bede. Herein we plainly see that our enemy the Devil first worked upon that wretched soldier, through the hope of a longer life, so that he would not do penance, and afterwards drove him into despair.
Another example is found in the same author in the following chapter, where he speaks thus (bk. V, ch. 15 of the History): « "I myself knew," he says, "a brother — would that I had not known him — whose very name I could mention, if it would be of any profit, who was placed in a noble monastery, but himself lived ignobly. Struck by illness and brought to his last end, he called the brethren and, grieving deeply and like one already condemned, began to relate that he saw hell open, and Satan plunged into the depths of the abyss, and Caiaphas also, with the rest who killed the Lord, delivered over beside him to avenging flames; 'in whose neighborhood,' he said, 'alas for wretched me, I see a place prepared for eternal perdition.' Hearing this, the brethren began earnestly to exhort him that even then, while still dwelling in the body, he should do penance. He answered in despair: 'There is no time now for me to change my life, since I have myself seen that my judgment is already accomplished.' Saying such things, he departed without the Viaticum, and his body was buried in the farthest parts of the monastery lands." » So far Bede. Now when this wretched monk says that there was then no time for him to change his life, it comes not from the truth, but from the Devil's delusion.
For the Holy Spirit most openly proclaims through the Prophet Ezekiel (Ezek. 18 and 33) that God is always ready to embrace those who turn from sin to penance; which Pope St. Leo teaches still more plainly in his epistle to Theodore, Bishop of Fréjus, in these words: « We can set no measure to the mercy of God, nor define its times, since conversion suffers no delay in coming to Him, as the Spirit of God says through the Prophet: "When you are converted and groan, you shall be saved." » I will add one or two examples to show that even the most devout men are tempted by the demon, at their departure from this life, with the sin of despair. There is extant in Laurentius Surius (tom. V, under September 27) the Life of Blessed Count Elzéar, who lived in virginity with his wife Delphine, and after a most holy death became illustrious for many signs and miracles. Yet he, at his departure from this life, endured most grievous temptations; for the author writes thus in the last chapter: « Finally, lying in his agony, he wore an exceedingly dreadful countenance, from which it could be gathered that he was engaged in a great struggle on account of certain things cast against him; and this was the power of demons, but the virtue and merits of the most holy Incarnation and Passion of Jesus Christ utterly broke it. A little later he cried out again and said: "I saw it plainly." And after a short space of time he said with a great cry: "I commit myself wholly to the divine judgment." And at these words his countenance was restored, and suffused with a certain ruddy brightness and great beauty, he gave up his spirit. »
Another example, far more terrible still, is found in John Climacus, who relates that a certain very venerable monk named Stephen, having lived about forty years in the desert, adorned with fastings, vigils, tears, prayers, and other virtues, at last came to his end. When, placed in that final agony, he was arraigned by demons for many crimes, so that he might be driven to despair, he suddenly was struck dumb in spirit and, with open eyes, began to answer in a clear voice: sometimes indeed, "Yes, truly it is so; but the crime has been washed away by penance and tears"; sometimes, "It is not so; you lie"; then again, "You speak truly, but I wept, but I ministered"; and of certain things, "You accuse me truly, and I have nothing to answer."
And so he died, leaving it uncertain whether he was saved or reprobate. These examples, therefore, and others of the same kind, warn us to purge our conscience with anxious care before that hour, and never to lose trust in the mercy of the Lord.