at is beyond your power; but one
thing you can do,--conquer them.'"--_Verba Seniorum_, xi, 50. Quoted
by Hannay, p. 217.

[35] St. James i, 12.

{62}

CHAPTER V

THE SPIRIT OF SOLICITUDE

Thomas a Kempis tells us that since the life of man upon earth is a
temptation, "Everyone ought therefore to be anxious about his
temptations and to watch in prayer."[1]

I. _True and False Anxiety_

The anxiety to which we are exhorted is not, however, that attitude of
mind and heart which would follow upon any uncertainty, or want of
assurance, in regard to the result. The word a Kempis uses gives, in
its original significance, no such suggestion. It is _sollicitus_,
which has the force of _being wholly aroused_. That is to say, because
life on earth is a temptation, we are warned that our whole being must
be stirred in the face of such a condition.

There must not be a single faculty that is not keen and alert to enter,
at a moment's notice, upon the conflict. Every part of our nature must
be as a soldier fully armed, standing ready to {63} spring instantly
forward to the conflict at the word of command.[2]

The anxiety that engenders doubt and fear is indeed too often found
among God's people. "It is never free from imperfections and always
springs from some evil root of self-love,"[3] and is the result more of
a lack of faith than of any true, supernatural solicitude for the
safety of our souls. We can well afford to leave all these cares with
God. Says the saintly writer we have been quoting, "Greater is Thy
anxiety for me than all the care that I can take for myself; for he
stands precariously who casts not all his anxiety upon Thee."[4]

The true Christian anxiety is closely akin to the virtue of Holy Fear,
which, as we know, is one of the special gifts of the Holy Ghost. We
are anxious about our temptations and the possibilities of sin, because
we have a dread of offending a Father whose love has ever been poured
out upon us in most precious benefactions. The soul recognizing God's
goodness, and His tender, {64} fatherly love, shrinks from the baseness
and ingratitude of wounding that love. We are not afraid of God; we
are afraid of offending God because we love Him. There are few virtues
that are so immediately rooted in love as Holy Fear. Of course, we
have no reference to that servile fear which St. John tells us is cast
out by perfect love.[5] He refers to the fear of the slave who dread