Page:HalfHoursWithTheSaints.djvu/36

 Let us  pass  in  review  before  ourselves  the  ancient  patriarchs and  their  deep  awe  of  God;  how  they  trembled  with holy fear  when  God  was  nigh,  and  looked  upon  all  things as unspeakably  hallowed  over  which  He  had  so  much  as cast  His  shadow.

Jacob, who  was  so  familiar  with  Him  that  he  wrestled with Him,  and  would  not  let  Him  go  till  He  had  blessed him, stands  eminent  among  the  Saints  of  God  for  the  gift and grace  of  fear. The very  ritual  of  the  old  synagogue was steeped  in  fear  and  reverence. David, the  man  after God's own  heart,  was  ever  praying  for  an  increase  of  holy fear. Our Blessed  Lord  himself,  says  the  Apostle,  in  the days of  His  flesh  was  heard  because  He  feared. Mary and the Apostles  were  filled,  as  none  others  ever  were,  with  the beauty, the  tenderness,  and  the  excess  of  this  heavenly fear.

Hundreds of  dying  Saints,  around  whose  flesh  and  souls still clung  the  fair  white  robe  of  their  unforfeited  baptismal whiteness,- trembled  in  every  limb  as  they  pondered  the possible judgments  of  Infinite  Purity,  beneath  whose  judicial eye  they  were  about  to  stand.

If they  needed  this  degree  of  fear,  what  degree  need  we?

Why do  frustrate  vocations  so  abound? Whence come the multitude  of  unfinished  saints,  that  lie  all  around  us like  the  broken  models  of  a  sculptor's  studio?

Whence so  little  perseverance  in  the  devout  life,  and such wearying  and  untying  even  of  the  vows  and  promises whereby men  have  bound  themselves  to  God?

Whence but  from  the  lack  of  fear!

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