Fear is a natural passion, which, like all the others, is in itself neither
bad nor good, but bad when it is excessive and disquieting, good when it
is subordinate to reason. There are some who, because naturally timid and
apprehensive, would never dare to speak in public. Others are so afraid
of thunder and lightning that they faint in a storm. Others are afraid of
noises at night, and have a horror of darkness and solitude. Others, again,
have so great a fear of ghosts and apparitions that they dare not sleep
alone in a room.
I have been told, on good authority, that one of our Bravest and most
distinguished Generals, who went to battle as gaily and confidently as he
would go to a marriage, declared that he could never suffer his valet,
after settling him for the night, to leave his sleeping apartment, it being
quite impossible for him to sleep when left alone at night. Our Blessed
Father writes in the following consoling manner to a pious person who
suffered from the weakness of being afraid of ghosts:
"I am told," he says, "that you are afraid of spirits. The Sovereign Spirit
of our God is everywhere, and without His Will or permission no other
spirit dare stir. Those who fear this Divine Spirit ought not to fear
any other. You are beneath His wings, like a little chicken under those
of its mother; what do you fear? In my youth I, too, was a prey to these
imaginations, and in order to get the better of them I forced myself
when quite a child to go alone into places which my fancy had peopled
with fantastic terrors. I went alone, I say, but my heart was armed with
confidence in God. Now I am grown so strong in this confidence that
darkness and the solitude of the night are delightful to me, since in
solitude I realise better the all-embracing Presence of God. The good
angels are there round about us like a company of soldiers on guard. _The
truth of God_, says the Psalmist, _shall compass thee with a shield; thou
shall not be afraid of the terror of night_.[1]
"This feeling of safety you will acquire little by little, in proportion
as the grace of God grows in you: for grace engenders confidence, and
confidence is never confounded."
See how, with this timid, fearful soul, he makes himself weak and infirm.
If I may be permitted to add to this great example my own poor and
worthless experience, I would say that when I was young I was greatly
afflicted with this weakness. It was indeed, perhaps, the chief impediment
to my entering the Order of St. Bruno, which is, in my opinion, the
holiest, as it certainly is the most retired and the most steadfast of all
the religious orders. I, however, lost this infirmity as soon as I had
received the imposition of hands from the Blessed Francis de Sales, and I
may add that Almighty God permitted me to succeed, in the episcopal chair,
three Saints of that order which I revered so much, namely, Saints Artauld,
Audace, and Anthelme.[2]
[Footnote 1: Psalm xi. 5.]
[Footnote 2: Six Carthusians occupied the See of Belley: Ponce de
Balmay, St. Anthelme, Raynauld, St. Arthaut, Bernard, and Bd. Boniface
of Savoy. (_Trésor de Chronologie, Chez Palmé, Paris, 1880_).
Audace, first Bp. of Belley, was not canonised, nor was he a Carthusian.]