neighbor and I am not distressed; I remain quite undisturbed or what is still worse, I find
a sort of pleasure in them. Bad conduct on the part of my brother I do not cover up with
love, but proclaim abroad with ensure. His well-being, honor and happiness do not
delight me as my own, and, as if they were something quite alien to me, give me no
feeling of gladness. What is more, they subtly arouse in me feelings of envy or contempt.
persuaded and believed without doubt that beyond the grave lies eternal life and
recompense for the deeds of this life, I should be continually thinking of this. The very
idea of immortality would terrify me and I should lead this life as a foreigner who gets
ready to enter his native land. On the contrary, I do not even think about eternity, and I
regard the end of this earthly life as the limit of my existence. The secret thought nestles
within me: Who knows what happens at death? If I say I believe in immortality, then I am
speaking about my mind only, and my heart is far removed from a firm conviction about
it. That is openly witnessed to by my conduct and my constant care to satisfy the life of
the senses. Were the Holy Gospel taken into my heart in faith, as the Word of God, I
should be continually occupied with it, I should study it, find delight in it and with deep
devotion fix my attention upon it. Wisdom, mercy, love, are hidden in it; it would lead
me to happiness, I should find gladness in the study of the Law of God day and night. In
it I should find nourishment like my daily bread and my heart would be drawn to the
keeping of its laws. Nothing on earth would be strong enough to turn me away from it.
On the contrary, if now and again I read or hear the Word of God, yet even so it is only
from necessity or from a general love of knowledge, and approaching it without any very
close attention, I find it dull and uninteresting. I usually come to the end of the reading
without any profit, only too ready to change over to secular reading in which I take more
pleasure and find new and interesting subjects.
good in myself, I want to bring it into view, or to pride myself upon it before other people
or inwardly to admire myself for it. Although I display an outward humility, yet I ascribe
it all to my own strength and regard myself as superior to others, or at least no worse than
they. If I notice a fault in myself, I try to excuse it, I cover it up by saying, 'I am made
like that' or 'I am not to blame'. I get angry with those who do not treat me with respect
and consider them unable to appreciate the value of people. I brag about my gifts: my
failures in any undertaking I regard as a personal insult. I murmur, and I find pleasure in
the unhappiness of my enemies. If I strive after anything good it is for the purpose of
winning praise, or spiritual self-indulgence, or earthly consolation. In a word, I
continually make an idol of myself and render it uninterrupted service, seeking in all
things the pleasures of the senses, and nourishment for my sensual passions and lusts.
and hating my neighbor. What state could be more sinful? The condition of the spirits of
darkness is better than mine. They, although they do not love God, hate men, and live
upon pride, yet at least believe and tremble. But I? Can there be a doom more terrible