God's help, he would be well able to do. But
the devil casteth him in a cowardice and maketh him take it for
humility to think himself unfit and unable to do them. And
therefore he leaveth undone the good thing of which God offereth
him occasion and to which he had made him fit.

But such folk have need to lift up their hearts and call upon God,
and by the counsel of other good spiritual folk to cast away the
cowardice of their own conceiving which the night's fear by the
devil hath framed in their fancy. And they have need to look in
the gospel upon him who laid up his talent and left it unoccupied
and therefore utterly lost it, with a great reproach of his
pusillanimity, but which he had thought to have excused himself,
in that he was afraid to put it forth into use and occupy it.

And all this fear cometh by the devil's drift, wherein he taketh
occasion of the faintness of our good and sure trust in God. And
therefore let us faithfully dwell in the good hope of his help,
and then shall the shield of his truth so compass us about that of
this night's fear we shall have no fear at all.

XIV

This pusillanimity bringeth forth, by the night's fear, a very
timorous daughter, a silly wretched girl and ever whining, who is
called Scrupulosity, or a scrupulous conscience.

This girl is a good enough maidservant in a house, never idle but
ever occupied and busy. But albeit she hath a very gentle mistress
who loveth her well and is well content with what she doth--or, if
all be not well (as all cannot always be well), is content to
pardon her as she doth others of her fellows, and letteth her know
that she will do so--yet can this peevish girl never cease whining
and puling for fear lest her mistress be always angry with her and
she shall severely be chidden. Would her mistress, think you, be
likely to be content with this condition? Nay, surely not.

I knew such a one myself, whose mistress was a very wise woman and
(a thing which is in women very rare) very mild also and meek, and
liked very well such service as she did her in the house. But she
so much misliked this continual discomfortable fashion of hers
that she would sometimes say, "Eh, what aileth this girl? The
elvish urchin thinketh I were a devil, I do believe. Surely if she
did me ten times better service than she doth, yet with this
fantastical fear of hers I would be loth to have her in mine
house."

Thus fareth, lo, the scrupulous person, who frameth