characteristic is the patience with which he works. He
bides his time. We should naturally think that when he found a soul in
a sinful environment he would immediately use the occasion to lead it
into some serious sin, but by no means does he always take this course.
Often in the most sinful surroundings he does not, for a long time,
allow the sight of sin to suggest participation in it. He waits until
we are accustomed to its presence; until the sense of shock wears off.
He begins by getting us to tolerate the fact of sin about us, for he
knows that any toleration of sin in the general life with which we are
surrounded is a long step towards tolerating it in ourselves.

So he waits with a patience born of a deep-laid plot. He notes that
after a while we see our Lord fearfully dishonoured, and our souls are
not thereby grieved and outraged; that we come {40} and go in a world
where He is being crucified daily, but with a smiling countenance that
masks no broken heart beneath.

Then he begins to insinuate his suggestions to evil. Perhaps the
temptation at first is to some slight sin only, merely venial. He
would not rouse our slumbering conscience by the frightening
temptations to that which is serious. But Satan has no interest in a
soul committing venial sins merely for their own sake. Venial sin
cannot deliver us into his power, and cannot keep us out of heaven.

It is well for us to remember this. Satan cares nothing for venial sin
_per se_. He never tempts a soul to it save as a cunningly laid
preparation for that deadly sin which follows logically upon a long and
reckless course of venial sin; and the soul that deliberately yields to
little temptations is knowingly, wilfully, and deliberately aiding and
abetting the devil in his plan for the supreme dishonour of our God.

So through all these steps the Satanic patience endures. He sees the
soul's sensibilities becoming more and more blunted; the conscience
less and less sensitive. He sees the little act of sin lightly
consented to, then the habit formed. He marks the soul's defences
crumbling, and in a well-chosen hour, subtly and in some familiar {41}
guise, he presents the temptation to the great offence, and his triumph
is complete.

(5) The last characteristic we shall consider is his ready adaptability
to every circumstance that transpires in the midst of the battle. He
cares not how we are tempted, if only our fall can be secured. We, in
o