{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_6583/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_6583","id":"gutenberg_6583","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/6583","summary":null,"tags":["Category: How To ...","Category: Parenthood & Family Relations","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Category: Teaching & Education","Christian life","Christianity","Young women -- Conduct of life"],"text":"Produced by Naomi Parkhurst, Charles Franks\nand the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.\n\nThis file was produced from images generously made available by the\nCanadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions.\n\n\n\n\nSERIOUS HOURS\n\nOF\n\nA YOUNG LADY,\n\nBY\n\nCHARLES SAINTE FOI.\n\nTranslated from the French\n\nBY PHILALETES\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nA celebrated author has justly remarked that Christian women can,\nlike the guardian angels, invisibly govern the world; and the author\nof the \"_Serious Hours of a Young Lady_\" has very appropriately\nmade this truth the basis of his book, since the object that he had\nin view in writing it was to point out the important role that woman\nplays in society, and to give the young girl such instructions as\nwill enable her, in due time, to discharge, in a worthy manner, the\nduties of her calling. In doing this he has given evidence of very\nelevated views and of a profound knowledge of the human heart. The\nbook is a tissue of practical counsels, couched in the clearest and\nmost delicate terms.\n\nHence, judging from its intrinsic worth, and the universal welcome\nwith which it has been hailed in the original, we feel that it is no\nexaggeration to assert that it has rendered and will still render\ninestimable good to society.\n\nAfter having lucidly exposed the importance of woman's mission in\nthis world, and pointed out the evils that prevent its realization,\nthe author ingeniously brings before the mind's eye the different\nphases of her life, the varied process of development that she\nundergoes in all her faculties, the dangerous influences to which she\nis constantly exposed, the means that should be employed to ensure\nher protection.\n\nWe behold her on the threshold of childhood a tiny, timid and\nretiring creature, naturally disposed to attach her affections to all\nthat is pure and elevated, to everything that conduces to the\npractice of virtue and the love of God. While yet a child she is the\nlittle confidante and angel of consolation of her brothers and\nsisters in their pains and difficulties. At a more advanced age we\nsee her consoling her aged parents in their sorrows and afflictions;\nand when she merges into womanhood she becomes either the spouse of\nJesus Christ or of man, only to continue the same work of beneficence\nin some charitable asylum, or in the midst of domestic cares. But ere\nshe attains this last stage of life how numerous and great are the\ndifficulties that she must encounter, the dangers to which she will\nbe exposed, and the snares to entrap her!\n\nHence, to ensure her safety and prepare her to act the important\nrole that she holds in society, her education must be the work of\npiety, modesty and retirement. All that interferes with their action\nin her soul must be peremptorily removed. Worldly pleasures with\ntheir numerous cort\u00e8ge should never have access to the sanctuary of\nher heart, for their poisoned influence blasts the fairest flower in\nher crown of simplicity.\n\nBut, alas! we confess, with deep regret, that there are many\nthoughtless tutors who seemingly ignore the grave responsibility of\ntheir charge, and unwarrantably parade the little one before the\nworld's gaze, which creates in the heart evil impressions, frivolous\ntastes and inordinate desires. And, even when they would all prove\nfaithful to their trust, it is a noted fact that society, friends and\ncompanions wield a powerful influence over the mind and heart of a\nyoung girl, which, when allowed to continue, most invariably proves\npernicious to her spiritual and temporal welfare.\n\nHence, she stands in need of a true friend, a faithful adviser, on\nwhom she can depend for safe instruction, and to whom she can have\nrecourse as often as need be. The \"_Serious Hours_\" is unquestionably\nall this; it speaks openly, firmly, but mildly. It inspires the\nyoung girl with that genuine, lofty esteem that she should have\nfor herself and for the dignity of her sex. It clearly defines her\nline of conduct in all the most critical incidents and circumstances\nof life, so that she cannot be deceived unless that she wilfully\nshuts her eyes to the light of truth. It is all that the author\nproposed to make it, a first class book of instruction for young\nladies, showing a careful study of all their wants and a happy\nchoice of the remedies to meet them. And, believing that such a\nvaluable book ought to be made accessible to all nations, we have\nventured to present it to the public in an English dress. How far we\nhave succeeded in rendering both its form and spirit we leave the\npublic to decide. And, while we are fully aware that, in transferring\nthe genius of one language to another, some of the original delicate\nshades of beauty must be inevitably sacrificed--the present\ntranslation not excepted--still we are happy to say that the work was\none of love and deep interest to us, on account of its importance and\ngood to society.\n\nTRANSLATOR.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS:\n\n\nTranslator's Preface\n\nCHAPTER I.--Importance of the Time of Youth; Difficulties and\nDangers that Women Meet With in Life, and the Necessity of Providing\nfor Them\n\nCHAPTER II.--Illusions of Youth; Value of Time at this Period of Life\n\nCHAPTER III.--The Heart of Woman; the Necessity of Regulating it\nDuring Youth\n\nCHAPTER IV.--The Dignity of Woman\n\nCHAPTER V.--Eve and Mary\n\nCHAPTER VI.--Eve and Mary (Continued)\n\nCHAPTER VII.--The World\n\nCHAPTER VIII.--The Same Subject (Continued)\n\nCHAPTER IX--The Will\n\nCHAPTER X.--The Imagination\n\nCHAPTER XI.--Piety\n\nCHAPTER XII.--Vocation\n\nCHAPTER XIII.--A Serious Mind\n\nCHAPTER XIV.--Choice of Companions\n\nCHAPTER XV.--Toilet\n\nCHAPTER XVI.--Desire to Please\n\nCHAPTER XVII.--Curiosity\n\nCHAPTER XVIII.--Meditation and Reflection\n\nCHAPTER XIX.--Obedience to Parents\n\nCHAPTER XX.--Melancholy\n\nCHAPTER XXI.--On Reading\n\nCHAPTER XXII.--Same Subject (Continued)\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\n\nIMPORTANCE OF THE TIME OF YOUTH; DIFFICULTIES AND DANGERS THAT WOMEN\nMEET WITH IN LIFE, AND THE NECESSITY OF PROVIDING FOR THEM.\n\nThe most important period of life is that in which we are the better\nable, in making good use of the present, to repair the past and\nprepare for the future; that period holds the intermediate place\nbetween the age of infancy and the age of maturity, embracing the\nadvantages of both, presenting at the same time the flowers of the\none with the fruits of the other. In order to prepare for the future\nwe need a certain assistance from the past, for this preparation\ndemands a certain maturity of judgment and a force of will that\nexperience alone can give.\n\nThe child, devoid as it is of personal experience, can, by turning\nthat of others to good account, make up for the deficiencies of its\nyouth, and prepare for the future without having to learn in the\nsevere school of self-experience. But, through an unfortunate\noccurrence of circumstances, and very often without any fault of\ntheirs, the greater part of children attain the age of manhood and\nwomanhood without having reaped the precious advantages offered them\nby the first stage of life, when the soul is most susceptible of\nreceiving the impress of grace and virtue. A vitiated or inadequate\nprimitive education, bad example, pernicious instruction? perchance,\nor at least personal levity of character, combined with that of\nchildhood, deprive this age of many advantages, and call for a total\nreparation of the past, at a period of life that should be the living\nfigure of hope.\n\nHappy, indeed, are those who have only the levity and negligences of\nchildhood to repair, and who have never felt the crushing weight of a\nhumiliating and grievous fault! Alas! that purity, that innocence so\ncommon formerly among children, is every day disappearing from their\nmidst, many among them have become the victims of sin ere the\npassions of the heart manifested their presence; and their hearts\nhave quivered from the sting of remorse ere they felt the perfidious\nlurings of pleasure. Many have received from sin that doleful\nexperience, that premature craftiness, which, far from enlightening\nthe mind, obscures and blinds it,--which, far from fortifying the\nwill, enfeebles and enervates it.\n\nSuch is the light by which we can truly see the importance that\nshould be attached to the time of youth. At this period of life sin\nhas not yet taken deep root in the heart,--it has not at least\nassumed the frightful magnitude of one of those inveterate habits,\njustly called habits of second nature, which invade and pollute the\nsacred sanctuary of both body and soul, forming in the earliest\ninstincts, inclinations and desires so violent, so obstinate, that\nsuperhuman efforts with a life-long struggle are the consequences\nentailed upon the unfortunate victims, who desire to hold them in\nsubjection.\n\nHowever, it is invariably true that, if the passions peculiar to\nyouth virulently assail virtue and expose the heart to the seductions\nof pleasure, they also give a great facility of doing good, by\ninflaming youthful zeal which age never fails to cool. The ardor\naroused by them for the commission of evil can be easily employed for\nthe practice of virtue; they are young and fiery steeds which God has\nplaced at your disposal, ready to obey your orders. Attach them to\nthe chariot of your will, they will not fail to draw you in the\ndirection that you may open to their impetuosity. It matters not to\nthem whether they run upon the way of vice or virtue,--all that they\nrequire is to go, to run and not to be constrained to inaction, which\nkills them. They must be managed by a resolute will which holds the\nreins with a firm grip, and by a calm intelligence, skilled to direct\nthem.\n\nTrees, while young, can be easily plied into any direction that man\nmay wish to give them. The same may be said of hearts in which the\nfrost of age has not cooled the ardor and impetuosity of desire.\nTheir energy and vivacity, whether for good or evil, never forsake\nthem. They are like those spirited racers which are no sooner down\nthan up again, for, swift as a flash, they will turn you to God by\nrepentance and love, the moment you have the misfortune of losing Him\nby sin. Be then full of confidence and hope, young soul, to whom God\nhas opened with a liberal hand the spring-time of life; be grateful\nto Him for so signal a favor, and, like a wise economist, profit by\nthe resources that He places at your disposal. But, should the past\nrecall some doleful memories, be not dismayed; be hopeful and, re-\nanimating your courage, prepare for the future by sowing at present\nthe germs of those beautiful virtues which grace irrigates, and whose\nfruits will rejoice your old age and atone for the sterility of your\nearlier years.\n\nYour future happiness is insured if you fully comprehend the\nimportance of the epoch which you now begin, and the greatness of its\nresults for the rest of your life. Let past delinquencies become an\nincentive, stimulating your will to energetic action. Let the need of\nrepairing the past, and the importance of preparing for the future\ninspire you with generous resolutions and an ardent desire of\nacquiring all the virtues necessary to a person of your sex and\nposition, in order that you may discharge in a worthy manner all the\nduties which may be required of you. Regard the future with a calm\nand firm eye, without exaggerating the difficulties, but also without\ndissembling the dangers. The first condition required to avoid a\ndanger is to know it, for the ignorance that conceals from us the\nsnares which we should avoid is--after the evil inclination that\nleads us into them--man's greatest misfortune, and the most\ndisastrous of the effects of original sin.\n\nWomen, even in the most humble walks of life, can scarcely hope\nnow-a-days to enjoy that sweet, calm and peaceful life which was\nformerly insured by the purest morals and the most pious customs.\n\nIf the world, spite of that inordinate desire for reform and\ninnovation which consumes it, has not yet seriously endeavored to\nwithdraw woman from the circle to which Providence would have her\ndevote the activity of her mind and life; if it has consented till\nnow to have her shun the theatre and the whirlpool of political\ncommotions, it will be extremely difficult for her to escape its\ncounter-shock, and preserve her self-composure and serenity of soul\nin the midst of those turbulent events which absorb her husband's\nlife, that of her children, of her father and brothers. If it was\neasy for her to preserve her heart at a tender age from the\nseductions of the world and the dangerous snares of vanity or\npleasure, through the sweet influence of those more modest, and at\nthe same time more rigid customs which identified her thoughts and\naffections with the family circle; such is not the case at present,\nfor an unfortunate necessity, invested with the vain title of\npropriety, compels her to seek in a more fashionable, a more\nnumerous, and consequently an unsuitable society, distractions or\npastimes for which she is not made, and which recreate neither body,\nnor mind, nor heart.\n\nThe feverish agitation and insatiable thirst for enjoyment which\nseem to prevail among all ages and classes of the present day is\nenigmatical. Life now-a-days must be passed in a state of constant\nexcitement. The peaceful calm productive of a modest and pure life\nappear to the imagination like a monotonous and disdainful sleep. The\nyoung girl herself has scarcely left the paternal home in which she\npassed her youthful days when she dreams of the pleasing emotions and\nincomparable joys promised her by a flashy and fashionable life. The\nexamples which come under her notice wherever she goes or wherever\nshe turns her eyes,--the language which she hears, and the very air\nwhich she breathes,--all give her, as it were, a foretaste of the\nfalse pleasures which now fascinate her imagination.\n\nThis is, most assuredly, one of the worst signs of our time. Up to\nthe present day women, for the most part, faithful to their vocation\nand to the duties of their station in life, have carefully preserved\nin the family circle that sacred fire of Christian virtue which forms\nmagnanimous souls, and that piety which produces saints. Their\nhearts, like the Ark of the Covenant, have preserved intact those\ntables of the divine law which admonish men of their duties, and\ninspire them with a firm hope. They have not fixed their hearts on\nthe vain and frivolous joys of earth; no, heaven was their aim.\nPreserved from the contagion of worldly interests and desires, their\nthoughts feasted on elevated and heavenly objects. What will become\nof society if, deprived of the resources it found in their virtues,\nit meets with no other barrier on the steep declivity down which it\nis being impelled by cupidity and the love of pleasure? What will be\nthe fate of future generations if they are not sanctified in the\nsanctuary of the family by the benevolent influence of woman, and\nfortified against the seductions of vice by that odor of grace and\nsanctity which the heart of a Christian mother exhales?\n\nBe not discouraged at the sight of difficulties that hover over the\nhorizon of the future; on the contrary, they should inspire you with\ngreater courage and energy. The less help you will obtain from\ntrusted sources of reliance, the more earnestly should you seek in\nGod and yourself what you look for in vain elsewhere. You may expect\nto see diminish, from day to day, the number of those saintly souls\nfrom whom you could obtain advice, support or light.\n\nFor you, perhaps, like many others, life will be a desert which you\nmust traverse almost alone, without meeting a single soul to reach\nyou a helping hand in your necessities and trials. Being about to set\nout on this pilgrimage of life, which will perhaps be long, fatiguing\nand painful, be supplied with an ample provision of strength,\npatience, virtue and energy. And, if happily deceived in your fears,\nyou find the road which leads to eternity smooth under your feet, you\nwill at least have the merit of having been wise in your conduct, for\nnot less moral strength is required to bear the happiness of\nprosperity than the misfortune of adversity. Happiness here below is\nsomething so extremely perilous to man's eternal welfare that few can\ntaste it without injury to their souls. Hence, in order to guard\nagainst its fatal influence, not less preparation, nor less time, nor\nless efforts, are required than to suffer the privations imposed by\nadversity, for experience proves that the former is more destructive\nthan the latter to the work of eternal salvation.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\n\nILLUSIONS OF YOUTH, VALUE OF TIME AT THIS PERIOD OF LIFE.\n\nThe age of youth is the age of illusions, ardent desires, and\nfanciful hopes. Youth is like a fairy whose magical wand evokes the\nmost graceful images and the most alluring phantoms. This ignorance\nof the doleful realities concealed in the future is a gift of divine\ngoodness which, in order that life might not be too bitter, casts a\nbeneficent veil over the sorrows that await us; God screens the\nfuture from us to let us enjoy the present. Far be it from me to\nremove this veil which renders you such kind service. But, apart from\nthis screen which the good God has placed between you and the\nmiseries of this life, there is another of a darker and heavier\nshade, fabricated by the imagination, and which it draws with a\nperfidious complacency over the object which it behooves us the most\nto know and avoid--a seductive and deceitful veil which, while\npresenting things to us in a false light, exposes us to most\ndeplorable illusions and inevitable dangers.\n\nGod permits that we should ignore many things, but He does not wish\nthat we should be deceived in anything. He is truth itself; error can\nnever claim His acquiescence.\n\nIf prudence and respect for God's work make it a duty for me to\nleave intact the veil that He has drawn between you and the future, I\nwould consider it highly criminal in me if I did not endeavor to\nremove that by which your imagination seeks to conceal its illusions\nand its errors. It is not my wish or design to trouble the present by\nexaggerated anxiety; but, on the other hand, I do not wish to leave\nyou under a false impression, fed by delusive hopes relative to the\nfuture. My desire is that, while enjoying with gratitude and\nsimplicity the happiness or peace which God has bestowed upon you in\nthe springtime of life, you may profit by the calm and tranquillity\nit affords you to prepare for the future, and to anticipate a means\nof soothing its sorrows and bitterness.\n\nWhile the soil of your heart is yet untilled and moist, and while\nyour hands are yet filled with those heavenly seeds which God has\ngiven you in abundance, I desire that you may sow them in the light\nand strength of divine grace, to develop in them the heavenly germs\nwhich they contain, that you may be enabled to reap at a later time\nan abundant harvest of virtues, holy joy and merit before God and\nmen. I desire that you may learn to turn to good account all the\nnatural resources that you possess, and acquire that knowledge of\nyourself which enlightens the mind without troubling the heart; I do\nnot wish to discourage nor flatter you, I only wish to instruct and\nfortify you.\n\nDo not think that the river of life will always flow for you as it\ndoes at present, broad, deep, calm and limpid, between two flowery\nbanks. Age will diminish those waters and deprive their banks of\ntheir charm and freshness. The flame of passion, like a burning wind,\nwill rise, and more than once perhaps will bring to the surface the\nmud that rankles in the bottom, and thus destroy its limpidity.\n\nA day will come, and before long, when, stripped of all those\nexterior advantages which please the senses, you will possess only\nthose qualities, less striking, but more solid, which satisfy the\nmind and heart and attract the complaisant regard of God and the\nangels. Youth will quickly pass, more quickly than you think, and the\nsubsequent period of life will last much longer, hence, in all\njustice to yourself, let its preparation absorb your attention.\n\nIf you had a long sojourn to make in a place close by, would it be\nreasonable on your part to pay less attention to the place of your\ndestination than to the few fleeting moments it would require to go\nthither. Youth is not a stopping-place, it is a passage, a time of\npreparation; it is to the whole life what the florid period is to the\ngardener, or seed-time to the farmer.\n\nOh! if you did but fully comprehend the value of each hour during\nthis most important period of life, the value of each thought of your\nmind, of each sentiment of your heart, with what extreme care you\nwould watch over all the movements of your soul, nay, even the\nexternal movements of your body.\n\nThat fugitive thought which enters your mind, fanned by curiosity's\nwing, may seem quite trivial; to dwell on and delight in it may be to\nyou something indifferent. That sentiment which, scarcely formed,\ncommences to germinate in your heart, and to produce therein emotions\nso imperceptible that you are but imperfectly conscious of its\npresence, seems insignificant at first sight; that unguarded glance\nseemed to you a matter of no import, and which, at an earlier or\nlater period of your life, would have but little consequence. At an\nearlier age the impression, it is true, would be lively but\ninconsistent, and the levity of childhood would soon have replaced it\nby another; later it would be found so superficial and trivial that\nit would be soon forgotten among the multiplicity of thoughts which\nabsorb the mind at the age of maturity; but, during the youthful\nyears, everything that comes under the notice of the senses sinks\ndeeply into the soul, penetrating its very substance, the faculties\nstill retain all the vivacity of youth, while already they\nparticipate in that firmness which is characteristic of the age of\nmaturity.\n\nThat thought is, perhaps, the first link in a chain of thoughts and\nimages which will be the torment of your conscience and the bane of\nyour life. That sentiment to which you imprudently pandered is\nperhaps the source of countless fears, regrets, remorse and sorrows.\nThat imprudent glance is perhaps the first spark of a conflagration\nwhich nothing can extinguish, and which will destroy your brightest\nhopes.\n\nIf, as yet, you are ignorant of all the evil of which an imprudent\nglance may be productive, recall to mind the example furnished us by\nthe Sacred Scriptures in the person of David, who, for his imprudent\nglance at the wife of Urias, committed two crimes, the names of which\nyou should ignore, and suffered a life of sorrow, repentance,\nbitterness and anguish: a life which even yet serves to express the\nsorrow and repentance of imprudent souls who have yielded to the\nallurements of the senses. And, nevertheless, David had attained the\nage of discretion when the mind is firm and the will is strong; David\nwas the cherished one of God; he was just and virtuous, one on whom\nGod had special designs of mercy. What a terrible example! What a\nsevere, but at the same time instructive, lesson!\n\nYoung Christian soul, may it never be your sad experience to learn\nthe effect of an imprudent glance which would exact from you the\nbitter wages of countless tears and regrets. Is there anything in the\nmaterial world so beautiful, so beneficent as the light and heat that\nwe receive from the sun; is there among material things a livelier\nimage of the goodness of God towards us? And, nevertheless, let the\nsun shine upon the young and tender flower or vine immediately after\na shower of rain, and it will cause them to droop and wither. The\nreason is quite obvious, for at no time is a being so frail and\ndelicate as at the moment of its formation. There is a critical\nperiod for all beings, during which the greatest possible care is\nnecessary. In this relation, what is said of the body may be said of\nthe soul; character is formed and developed according to the same\nlaws which regulate the development of the physical constitution.\n\nAre you not aware of the extraordinary care that must be taken of\nthose organs that are the chief motors of the body, while they are\nunder process of development? Are you not aware that the fresh air\nwhich you inhale and which purifies and invigorates the blood\ncontains for you the germ of death, which justifies in your good\nparents the anxious care they take of your health, but which you\nperhaps regard as entirely unnecessary?\n\nNow, what the lungs are to the human body, that the heart is to the\nsoul. It is by the heart that we breathe the spiritual and divine\natmosphere that sustains our moral life. This atmosphere is composed\nof three elements,--truth, goodness and beauty, which envelop and\npenetrate the soul's substance; as it is the respiratory organ of the\nmind it follows that for the heart, as well as for the lungs, there\nis an epoch of development which is dangerous, and which,\nconsequently, demands the greatest possible care; it is the epoch of\nyour age at present. An emotion too vivid, an indiscreet thought, an\nimprudent glance, is quite sufficient to imperil the interesting and\ndelicate process by which your moral constitution is formed, to\naccelerate the development of the heart, and thus give to this most\nimportant organ a pernicious precocity or a false direction.\n\nYour mother, anxious and always trembling for your welfare, guards\nit with tender solicitude from all the dangers to which it might be\nexposed. But her vigilance cannot equal that of your guardian angel,\nnor the care with which he removes you from contact with all that\nmight in any way tarnish the purity of your soul, or trouble its\npeace and harmony. It is to you that the Holy Ghost addresses these\nwords of the Proverbs: With all watchfulness keep thy heart, because\nlife issueth out from it. [Footnote: Proverbs iv 23.]\n\nThe heart is, therefore, the seat of the moral life, and as the\nsource is known by the waters that flow from it, so will the moral\nlife partake of the character and bear the impress of the heart\nwhence it proceeds. This is true of youth in general, but more\nparticularly so of young ladies.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\n\nTHE HEART OF WOMAN; THE NECESSITY OF REGULATING IT DURING YOUTH.\n\nThe most humble, most chaste, most holy of women, Blessed Mary ever\nVirgin, she who is the ornament and glory of her sex who, in\nconsequence of her privilege of being the mother of God, merited to\nbe elevated so high above all creatures, revealed to us the existence\nof a faculty in the soul, unknown to the philosophers, undiscovered\nby the saints, unspoken of by the prophets. This faculty is more\nconspicuous in woman than in man, for it exercises in her a decisive\ninfluence which extends over the entire period of her life. Hence,\nGod, \"who ordereth all things, sweetly,\" (Wisdom, viii. 1), desired\nthat its existence should be made known to us by a woman, and that,\ntoo, while she was visiting another woman.\n\nIn answer to the salutation of her cousin St. Elizabeth, Mary,\nfilled with the Holy Ghost, breaks forth into that sublime Canticle,\ncalled the \"Magnificat:\" \"He hath scattered the proud,\" she sings,\n\"_mente cordis sui;_\" literally, \"in the _mind_ of their\nheart.\" This is the faculty of which I speak; that _mind_, that\n_intellect of the heart_, if I may so term it, which is the\nhidden recess, the secret chamber of the soul, either blessed by the\npeaceful presence of humility, or cursed by the baneful restlessness\nof worldly ambition or pride.\n\nIt is not going too far to say that a woman's mind is in her heart;\nit is the source both of the thoughts which ennoble and elevate, and\nof those which are selfish and worldly; it is the key to all the\npowers of her soul, so that he who becomes the possessor of her heart\nis master of her whole being, and can exercise over her a power of\nfascination which has no parallel in nature.\n\nGod who disposes every being for the end which He proposed to\nHimself in creating it has established in woman's heart an abyss\nwhich no human affection can fill nor exhaust when once it has been\nfilled, because He desired to submerge her whole being in love, and\nthus to render easy and necessary to her the noblest sentiments and\nthe most heroic sacrifices. Such is the agent that He wished to\nemploy for the culture of charity in society and in the family\ncircle, as well as of the virtues of tenderness, compassion and\ndevotedness. He desired that in the family the child should be borne,\nso to speak, on woman's heart and man's intelligence, as on the two\narms of one and the same being; He desired that in society the mind\nof the one should furnish the light to guide in the way, and the love\nof the other should produce that vivifying principle which animates\nand quickens man's being: And, thus, that the moral life of humanity\nshould be the result of these two factors. God endowed the heart of\nwoman with treasures of tenderness and devotedness, desiring to be\nHimself the supreme object of its devotion. To Himself alone has He\nreserved the power of calming its fearful agitation and soothing its\npoignant grief, hence we see it turning to Him in its joys and\nsorrows, like the magnet to the pole that attracts it. He has made\nthe heart of woman broad and deep, so that its devotedness may\nsuffice for all the exigencies it is called upon to meet, whether in\nsociety or in the family, yet finding no created object able to\nexhaust it.\n\nWhen, forgetting the sublime end for which she has been created,\nwoman lives for the world and not for heaven, lavishing her love on\ncreatures instead of giving it to God, her Creator, her soul becomes\nthe prey of inexpressible anguish and despondency, which admonish her\nof her mistake and induce her to correct it.\n\nYou can easily judge from this of what great importance it is to you\nto keep a vigilant watch over your heart and its movements, since the\nheart is, so to speak, the citadel of your whole being, and hence\nwhen it is captured all the powers and faculties of your soul are\nforced to surrender. The heart is the agent that furnishes woman with\nthe greater part of her ideas, and the object of its predilection\ninevitably becomes the only object of all her thoughts. This is the\nartist that furnishes the imagination with those images which remain\nsubstantially the same under forms constantly varying, but absorbing\nthe soul to such a degree that a person is often tempted to look upon\ntheir action as the result of obsession.\n\nIt is the heart that governs and shapes the will, giving it that\nflexibility and at the same time that constancy so prevalent among\nthe greater part of women, leading them, with unflinching\nstubbornness of determination to the accomplishment of the end\nproposed. All difficulties vanish that stand between them and the\nobject of their heart. This disposition renders them potent for good\nor evil, hence the necessity of regulating the heart and of never\nlosing control over its movements. When their soul is swayed by a\npure and generous sentiment, and when the natural weakness of their\nsex gives place to an energy which few men are capable of displaying,\ntheir ardor in doing good is truly admirable. God alone knows all the\ntreasures of virtue stored up within them daily, by charity, maternal\nlove, filial piety, devotedness and compassion, but He alone also\nknows the malicious excess to which a sentiment, bad in its nature or\nin its source, may lead them.\n\nOh, if while standing between these two abysses of good and evil,\nyou could sound their depth, and behold the ineffable joy and glory\nthat women have secured by the practice of virtue, the sorrow,\ndisgust, humiliation and shame that evil doings have brought upon\nthem (faults which at first sight did not seem capable of entailing\nsuch fatal consequences) horror and admiration should dispute the\npossession of your soul; you would indeed tremble on beholding the\nconsequences of neglecting your vocation, while you would be\nastonished at the sublime elevation that fidelity to grace would\nsecure to you in heaven.\n\nGod desires to accomplish great things through your instrumentality,\nand in order to secure your services with greater certainty he has\nplaced around you barriers which you cannot pass without an effort\nthat does violence to nature, still necessity makes it a duty to\nbreak them down, and necessity has no law. When the first step is\ntaken nothing can impede the will in the execution of your designs,\nbe they good or bad. Hence the great importance of making your first\nstep in the right direction, as it will be the prelude to countless\nothers.\n\nIf you wish to possess your own heart and insure to yourself a life\nexempt from trouble and remorse, attach it firmly to God; accustom it\nto always prefer duty to pleasure and to propose to itself in all its\nmovements an end worthy of your sublime destiny. Remember that God\nalone can satisfy it--no creature being able to give it that peace\nwhich it so ardently craves. O, my child, if you knew the gnawing\ndesires, the vain hopes, the false joys, the troubles, the regrets\nand bitterness that fill the heart in which God does not dwell! If\nyour eyes were not screened by the veil of candor and simplicity\npreventing you from foreseeing the torments to which that woman's\nlife is exposed, who has not learned in early youth to regulate the\ndesires and affections of her heart, you would better understand my\nwords, and the necessity of laboring energetically and efficiently to\ndirect your own, and to check all its irregular movements. Learn now,\nand profit by the experience of others. Hearken to the voice of God\naddressing you in these words: \"The flowers have appeared in our\nland, the time of pruning is come; the voice of the turtle is heard\nin our land; the vines in flower yield their sweet smell. Arise, my\nlove, and come. Catch us the little foxes that destroy the vines, for\nour vineyard hath flourished.\" (Cant. ch. ii. 12, 13, 15). The foxes\nof which the sacred writer speaks here are those defects which,\nalthough they appear small, still assail the soul with great\nvirulence, and will leave no virtue intact unless you hasten to\ndestroy them.\n\nThe time for pruning is the time of youth, age truly precious\nwherein you can still lop off useless branches which absorb a portion\nof the sap, depriving the others of that strength which they need in\norder to produce an abundance of savory fruit. You should attack not\nonly those gross and manifest defects which disfigure the soul, but\nalso those imperfections which are slight in appearance, but which,\nif left alone, will in time become pernicious inclinations. You\nshould even watch over certain natural dispositions, which, though\ngood in themselves, and even often esteemed above their true merit by\nthe world, might easily, on that account, divert the thoughts of the\nmind and the efforts of the will from more important objects;\ndispositions very often dangerous for those who possess them, because\nit is easy to abuse them, and because they flatter and nourish self-love,\nor the other passions that flesh is heir to. You should imitate\nthose intelligent gardeners who pay a daily visit to their garden,\npruning knife in hand, and cut off branches that might exhaust or\novercharge the tree--not sparing them for the beauty of their foliage\nor the brightness of their flowers.\n\nIf you wish to cultivate your heart and make it produce all the\nfruit and virtue that it is capable of producing, suffer nothing\nuseless or superfluous to grow therein, choosing what is best,\nmeasuring your esteem of certain things, and your application of\ncertain duties by the degree of importance that each merits, giving\nthe preference, in your mind and heart, to the virtues which bring\nthe soul nearest to God. Love those hidden virtues, so modest and\nhumble, which are the ornament of your sex--those virtues of which\nGod alone is witness, which the world ignores,--which it often, in\nfact, despises, because they secure no advantage in men's esteem,\nreceiving their reward only in the future world. But this is just the\nreason why God loves them so dearly, and why you should prefer them.\nFor if, in general, it is dangerous to please the world and useful to\nshun it, this truth is especially applicable to woman, who, being\nconfined to a narrower sphere, and devoted to more intimate\naffections than man, is obliged to seek, at a tender age, isolation,\ntranquillity, repose, and that retirement which are truly a shield to\nher virtues. In this way you will do more for the real development\nand culture of your heart than by the acquisition of more agreeable\nand more brilliant qualities.\n\nMoreover, the same thing will happen for you that always happens\nwhen efforts are made to acquire what is best; when that which is\nessential is secured, the accessories will infallibly follow, just as\nthe effect follows the cause that produces it. By acquiring the\nvirtues that are pleasing to God you will receive, in addition, those\nwhich men esteem; in becoming more and more agreeable to God you will\nbecome more and more pleasing to men, whose good sense and sound\njudgment almost invariably triumph over prejudice which an austere\nbut modest virtue always removes. This is also what the Saviour of\nthe world insinuates by these words of the Gospel in which He\nrecommends us to seek first the kingdom of God and His justice,\npromising that all other things shall be added thereto. But this\naddition should not be directly sought, nor should it be ardently\ndesired; await the will of God who has promised it to us, provided\nthat we first seek the things to which that is accessory. Very often,\non the contrary, when, through want of due reflection, preference is\ngiven to secondary and inferior things, by neglecting solid and\nhidden virtues for brilliant qualities, neither are obtained. God\npermits this in order to punish this subversion of the moral order\nand of the laws that govern it.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\n\nTHE DIGNITY OF WOMAN.\n\nPOPE ST. LEO, in one of his homilies on the nativity of our Saviour,\nsays, in addressing man: \"O man, recognize thy dignity!\" We might,\nwith all due propriety, address these same words to woman, for her\nhappiness and virtues depend in great measure on the elevated idea\nthat she has of herself, and on the care with which she maintains\nthis idea, both in her own mind and in that of others. Woe to the\nwoman who, through false modesty, or something still worse, has lost\nself-respect, for she has deprived herself of her most powerful\nsafeguard against instability of character and seductions of the world.\n\nWoman has received from God the sublime mission of fostering in\nsociety the spirit of sacrifice and devotedness. Faithful, nay,\nsometimes perhaps over-zealous, in the discharge of these duties, she\nfeels an imperative need of sacrificing herself to another who should\nconstitute the complement of her life. As long as she has not made\nthis surrender of herself to another she is a burden to herself, for\nshe seems to find her liberty and happiness in this voluntary\nservitude of the heart, in this constant abnegation, in this\nperpetual sacrifice of her whole being.\n\nThis disposition of woman's heart, which has been given her for the\ngood of society and for her own happiness, can be easily used to the\ndetriment of both; such is necessarily the case the moment she sinks\nin her own estimation, so as to account herself a being of little\nvalue. It is a matter of vital importance to her to have a just idea\nof the value of the present she is making when she engages her heart\nand her fidelity. In fact, when a thing is lightly appreciated, we\nmake little account of giving it away and less of choosing those to\nwhom we give it. Now, if we consider the deplorable facility with\nwhich a vast number of women obey the caprice of their heart or of\ntheir imagination, we will be led to conclude that their valuation of\nthem--selves is very low indeed. They seem to lose sight of the fact\nthat in giving their heart they give the key to all the treasures\nthat enrich their soul; they give their will, all their thoughts,\ntheir whole life. They sometimes give more than all this, they give\ntheir eternal salvation, their conscience, and God Himself, putting\nin His place, by a sort of idolatry, the object that claims their\nheart.\n\nTo prevent this deplorable prodigality of themselves, women should\nspare no pains to comprehend thoroughly their dignity, of which they\ncan never have too high an appreciation or too great an esteem. It\nwould be most prejudicial to them to lower in their own mind their\njust value by a false humility.\n\nThe most humble of all women is, at the same time, she who had the\nbest knowledge of her dignity. And her humility, which was never\nequaled by that of any other woman, did not hinder her from seeing\nthe great things that God had operated in her, as she herself\nproclaims in that sublime canticle which is the \"Magna Charta\" of the\nrights, the prerogatives and the greatness of woman.\n\nThe two most beautiful and most elevated things in all creation are\nthe intelligence of man and, the heart of woman. They are the special\nobjects of God's complacency. He seems to be absorbed in the work of\ntheir education; to this end he seems to have converged all the\nmiracles wrought by His divine Son, all the mysteries of Jesus Christ.\n\nTo impart to man a knowledge of truth and a love of virtue was the\nend that God proposed to Himself in the creation of the world. But\nthe order which he had established was iniquitously subverted, and\nthis subversion has shaken society to its very foundation, leading\nman's intelligence to conceive a hatred for truth and to become the\nslave of error; turning away the heart of woman from what is truly\ngood and great to pander to false and transitory goods, which sully\nwithout contenting it.\n\nThe heart of woman may be said to be the source from which flows all\nthe good or evil that consoles or afflicts mankind. As the city and\nstate receive their form and character from the family, so the family\nis modelled after the type of the mother's heart, since upon her\ndevolves the culture of the infant mind, that all-important education\nupon which depends man's weal or woe, both for time and eternity.\nHence it is that, while writing this little work, and considering\nthat many to whom it is addressed will read its pages, namely those\nwho are destined to be one day heads of families, charged with the\neducation of several children, who in turn will found numerous\nfamilies to act a more or less important part in the great movement\nby which the plan of divine Providence is executed throughout ages, I\nfeel a kind of profound respect, bordering on reverential awe, that\nengages me to pray God to inspire me with thoughts equal to the\nsublimity of my subject.\n\nWhoever you may be that read and meditate this little book, I honor\nand venerate the dignity of your vocation; I regard you as an august\nand sacred being. I admire the great designs that God has over you; I\npray Him to have you participate in the sovereign esteem and respect\nwith which your condition inspires me. You are as yet free from all\nengagements, in the bloom of youth, adorned with the treasures of\ninnocence and candor, standing like a queen upon the threshold of the\nfuture which opens before you like a spacious temple. The past is\nimmaculate and free from the sting of remorse; with a vigorous mind\nand will you behold the future's perspective without anxiety or\ndismay,--rich in pious souvenirs, saintly hopes, heavenly thoughts\nand merits acquired by prayer and the practice of virtue, ignorant of\nvice and its bitter consequences, save by the pictures that have been\npainted in order to inspire you with horror for it; your liberty is\nsuch that every Christian soul envies your happy state. You possess a\npower--I would almost say, a majesty--that no one can help admiring\nand revering. As there is no one freer than he who has never been the\nslave of sin, so there is no man stronger than he who has never\nsuccumbed to the allurements of pleasure. The woof of your life is\nthere spread out before you intact and flexible, you can dispose and\nweave it as you please; you will now find none of those knotty or\nbroken threads which, in after life, must sometimes be met with.\n\nYou are now at the period of life at which all the roads of life\nmeet. You can choose the one that pleases you most, and enter on the\ngood way with all that generous ardor so natural to youth. But,\nwhatever you do, whatever the choice you may make, you will occasion\nthe future weal or woe of many, perhaps for many generations. Whether\nspouse of Jesus Christ or of man, whether mother of a family or of\nthe poor, whether a cloistered nun or a celibate in the world, you\nwill neither save nor lose your soul alone; the effects of your\nvirtues or vices shall be reproduced, long after your departure from\nthe scene of life, in the lives of beings yet unborn, in favor of\nwhom divine Providence implores your compassion. What a solemn\nmoment! What sublime power! Have you given it serious thought?\n\nTransport yourself, in thought, to the house of Nazareth, recall to\nmind the day on which Gabriel proposed to your Queen to become the\nmother of God, asking her consent to the Incarnation, by which was to\nbe accomplished the salvation of the world. The angel's words\nastonished Mary's humility so far as to make her recoil before such a\nprodigious elevation, and, to obtain her consent, it was necessary to\nassure her that the Holy Ghost Himself would accomplish in her this\nprodigy. Indeed, it was a most memorable moment in the world's\nhistory,--a moment wherein the salvation of the entire human race\nhung upon the word of a virgin's lips.\n\nNow, in your present condition, at this period of your life, you\nbear a certain resemblance to the Blessed Virgin at Nazareth, on the\nday of the Annunciation. A glorious destiny is also announced to you;\nto you also is promised a saintly posterity, if you give your consent\nand concurrence to the Holy Ghost, with docility to the operation of\nHis grace. Be not astonished at so great an honor. The choice that\nyou are going to make, the course that you are going to adopt, will\ndetermine and fix the fate of a family, of a generation,--of many\ngenerations perhaps, for God alone can tell how far the influence of\nyour virtues or the result of your faults may extend.\n\nIf you have no regard for your own salvation or glory, oh, at least\nhave pity for those whom the hand of God will place under your care,\nto be modeled by your instructions and example. Have compassion on\nthem and on those who, succeeding them, must inherit your virtues or\nvices. Oh! how pleasing to God and respected of men is the young lady\nwho, piously impressed with the greatness of her vocation, prepares\nfor the future in a Christian manner, and resolves courageously to\nembrace and faithfully to discharge all its duties.\n\nLike Mary, the model and glory of your sex, you also, but in a\nspiritual manner, are carrying Jesus Christ within you; and He, by\nthe operation of the Holy Ghost, is leaving the impress of His\nvirtues in your soul, that one day you may give Him birth\nspiritually, producing Him externally by a pure and Christian life.\nLike her you should be ready to accomplish the will of God in your\nown regard, saying, as she did, with sentiments of obedience and\nprofound humility: \"_Behold the handmaid of the Lord, be it done\nunto me according to Thy word;_\" abandoning your soul with perfect\ndocility to the operation of the Holy Ghost, following Him wherever\nHe desires to lead you. Let your soul glorify God, and rejoice in Him\non account of the great things He has done in you, remembering that\nHis mercy extends from generation to generation, in favor of those\nwho fear him, and that holy families, fearing God, are formed by the\nlessons and examples of virtuous, God-fearing women. He reduces to\nnaught those who confide in their own power and strength, while He\nsustains and exalts the humble. He freely shares His treasures with\nthose who desire them, and reduces to indigence those who glory in\ntheir own abundance.\n\nLet this beautiful canticle dwell in your heart and be the prayer of\nyour lips; in this canticle, composed by the Mother of God, the honor\nand glory of your sex, or rather by the Holy Ghost Himself, who\ninspired her, He has inscribed all the rights and glories of women,\nby celebrating in it the power of her feebleness, the greatness of\nher humility and of all those modest virtues which so well become\nyour condition.\n\nA Christian woman who would never lose sight of what she is, of her\nworth, of her moral capabilities and of her sacred duties, will find\nin the frequent meditation of this sublime canticle considerations\nsuggestive of thoughts and sentiments corresponding to God's designs\nover her. She should nourish her soul with the vivifying substance of\nthe words it contains, and look therein for light to dispel her\ndoubts, and for consolation in her troubles. In them she will also\nfind a cheering hope in her languor, a powerful prayer in temptation,\nan acceptable act of thanksgiving, and a hymn of joy and triumph in\nher victories.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\n\nEVE AND MARY.\n\nPILATE, on presenting to the Jews, Jesus crowned with thorns, and\nclothed in a purple garment, said: \"_Behold the Man!_\" Jesus\nfrequently calls Himself the Son of man in the Gospel, that is, the\nMan _par excellence_, the Man who is the model and type of all\nothers. To women, we can also say of Mary: \"_Behold the woman!_\"\nthe honor, glory, joy, crown, type and model of your sex. Such is the\nmanner in which Jesus presented her from the cross on Calvary, when\nHe said to her, a few moments before expiring: \"_Woman, behold thy\nSon!_\"\n\nIt is, indeed, remarkable that the Saviour of the world, when\naddressing Mary in public, did not call her mother, but woman, as if,\nby that, He would declare to us that she is the model of all other\nwomen. It is as if He said to us: Behold THE woman; and, although she\nwas His mother--principal title of her glory--nevertheless she is\nwoman before all. She merited to become the most glorious of all\nmothers only because she had been the purest and holiest of all\nwomen. You should therefore have your eyes constantly fixed upon\nMary, as a servant who watches her mistress in order to observe and\nobey her commands. If you can see yourself in Mary, you will\nentertain an exalted idea of the dignity of your sex; for it is in\nher and by her that you are great; it is to her you owe the honor and\nrespect that the world pays the woman who knows how to respect and\nappreciate herself according to her just value. If you would\nunderstand all that you owe to Mary in this regard you need but\nconsider what was the social condition of woman in society before the\nbirth of Christ, and what her condition is to-day among people on\nwhom the light of the Gospel has not yet shone. You are now too young\nto appeal to your own experience, but, according as you advance in\nlife, observing closely what passes around you, you will learn--and\nGod grant that it may not be at your own expense--what an immense\ndifference there is with regard to the esteem in which woman is held\nbetween those who adore God as the Son of Mary, and those who regard\nher as common with other women.\n\nAmong men of social standing, whose habits, condition and character\nare so different, you can easily discern those whose faith discloses\nto them a reflection of the glory of Mary in you, from those who\nbehold in you simply a daughter of Eve. Their conversation,\ndeportment and looks, everything in them, will serve you as an index\nto this discernment. It is very difficult for man to disguise his\nreal sentiments--dissimulation costs nature too dearly--but there are\ntwo circumstances wherein his moral character betrays itself in a\nstriking manner, namely, in the presence of God, and in the presence\nof woman. It is neither permitted nor possible to a man truly\nreligious and chaste to be bold or trivial in presence of either.\n\nThe woman illuminated by the sweet reflections of the glories of\nMary, and imitating her virtues according to her state of life,\nenjoys the singular privilege of commanding the deferential respect\nof men of the most decided character. In her presence vice is silent,\naudacity is confounded, virtue, innocence and candor are at ease. The\nholy emanations of her heart purify the moral atmosphere around her,\nimparting to it a sweet and charming serenity, converting the place\nin which she appears into a kind of sanctuary.\n\nBy a contrary effect, resulting from a want of self-respect, woman\nbecomes an easy prey to men of vain hearts and frivolous minds, who,\nnot thinking themselves more obliged to respect her than she respects\nherself, without any reserve, give expression to the vanity of their\nhearts and thoughts. Everywhere and always ignorance or contempt of\nthe Christian religion has begot contempt for woman, or disregard for\nher sacred rights and exalted dignity. Every where and always,\nirreligion has produced libertinism, the immediate and necessary\neffect of which is a depreciation of woman; and in those countries\nwhere the habits and institutions of the people have been deprived of\nthe precious culture of Christianity, woman's condition is so abject\nthat it differs in nothing from that of the brute, save that in\n_her_ the sacred rights established by divine Providence are\nmost shamefully violated.\n\nThat woman is worthy of glory or ignominy is the logical consequence\nof her being regarded as a daughter either of Eve or of Mary. In the\none she is the poisoned source whence sin with all the evils that\nattend it flowed into the world, in the other she is the blessed\nsource whence the Salvation of the world has issued forth. And, what\nshe has been once for the entire human race in the garden of Eden and\nat Nazareth, she is yet every day for a people, a city, a family, or\nfor each man in particular, according to the elevation of her\nposition in society, and the extent of her influence.\n\nThe greater part of Christian nations owe to the prayers and\nexamples of some holy woman, some pious queen, for instance, the\ngifts of Christianity and civilization--in this regard France has\nbeen, among all nations, singularly fortunate, and the name of\nClotilda shall forever be revered in the pages of its history; while\non the other hand, woman has often been instrumental in depriving the\nchurch of a kingdom, and in plunging into darkness and error a long\nsuccession of generations. For instances of this we have only to\nrecall the names of Anne Boleyn and her cruel daughter, queen\nElizabeth.\n\nCountless numbers are indebted to woman for a knowledge of the\ntruth, or the misfortune of forsaking it. Is there one who, in\nrecalling the memories of the past, does not either bless or curse a\nwoman, seeing in her an instrument of God's mercy, or of the\nseduction of Satan? Is there one who has not realized in that woman\neither a daughter of Eve or of the Blessed, Virgin--an Eden or a\nNazareth? Behold the two poles between which the history of peoples\nand the life of each man in particular continually oscillate. Eve and\nMary these are two guiding stars, either of which man must follow;\nthe light of the one is deceitful and treacherous, while that of the\nother is true and beneficent; the one leads humanity along the paths\nof righteousness, while the other lures to the commission of sin.\nHence it is that the church has given Mary those beautiful names, so\nsignificantly true: \"Morning Star!\" \"Star of the Sea!\"\n\nThis world is, indeed, like a stormy sea, in which are rocks and\nshoals, upon which man runs the risk of being wrecked unless he keeps\nhis eyes steadfastly fixed upon this star whose brightness no storm\ncan dim, and which, at the most perilous moment, shines with greater\nbrilliancy, as the cheering sign of grace, hope and happiness. It is\nby turning our eyes toward Mary with her divine Son in her arms,\npresenting Him to us as our Saviour, that our troubled souls find the\npolar star which will quiet all their movements, and tranquilize the\nfluttering beatings of our troubled hearts. But, woe to us if,\ninstead of fixing our attention upon Mary, virgin mother of God, we\nturn to Eve, infected with the contagion of the serpent, and offering\nto our hearts the doleful fruit of temptation and sin!\n\nAt the entrance to every path that leads to heaven or to the abyss\nof hell you will find a woman--the image of Mary, at the former, the\nimage of Eve at the latter. It almost invariably happens that it is\nwoman who deals out to mankind sin and death like Eve, or life,\nredemption and salvation like Mary. If you meet with one of these\nprivileged men, chosen by God to be an instrument of His mercy,\nintimately associated with Jesus in the work of the salvation of His\npeople, you may rest assured that this man owes to a woman, to a\nmother or a sister, the development of the great qualities which\ndistinguish him. While, on the contrary, if you see one of those men\ntainted by the curse of some hereditary vice, very often more\npernicious than original sin in its effects, you will discover that\nits source is the lesson or examples of a woman, whose poisoned\ninfluence shall oppress generations, just as that of Eve has\noppressed the human race. Once again, I repeat it, that, as the\ncorrupt and incredulous generation is the offspring of mothers\nmodeled after Eve, so the holy and faithful generation traces its\norigin to mothers modeled after Mary.\n\nYou must choose between these two models, and on your choice will\ndepend not only your own happiness and salvation, but also that of\nmany yet unborn, whom God will confide to your care, and who will be\ndear to your heart. There remains no alternative; you will be either\na cause of temptation and sin, or an instrument of grace and\nbenediction for those who will live with you. You will either offer\nthem the forbidden fruit like your mother Eve, or you will give\nspiritual birth to the Word of Life for them. As one of the greatest\ntorments of the reprobate woman in hell will be to see the woeful\nmisery into which she has brought those whom she had loved so dearly\nupon earth, and to hear the maledictions and reproaches which they\nshall hurl against her, so, also, one of the greatest joys of the\nfaithful woman in heaven, will be to see those whom she sanctified by\nword and example now grouped around her, crowning her with a diadem\nof glory as a mark of everlasting gratitude.\n\nWould you deprive your soul of this saintly joy, and condemn it to\nsuffer the punishment reserved for those women who will be the cause\nof the ruin and eternal perdition of many? Divine justice shall\nvindicate itself, even in this life, by making your heart a most\ncruel torment to itself, that you may expiate, in agonizing torture\nyour infidelity to grace. The cause of your sin shall be the very\nmeans of your punishment. God will employ, to avenge His outraged\nhonor and His violated laws, those whom you have turned away from\nHim, and who, recognizing in you the cause of their evils, will end,\nperhaps, by hating you, or, what is still worse, by despising you.\nOh, may it never be your sad fate to feel the withering contempt of\nthose who have been led away from God by your bad or undue influence,\nthat is, by loving them for _yourself_ and not for _God and\nthemselves_! Do not, I pray you, store up such bitterness for your\nold age, such anguish for your death-bed, since, instead of bitter\nregrets, you can experience a sweet joy, which is a foretaste of\nnever-ending happiness, a special consolation for God's faithful\nfriends at that last and dreadful moment when the soul stands\ntrembling on the threshold of eternity; may it be your envied\nprivilege to leave after you upon earth souls edified by your\nexample, and grateful for the good you have done them.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\n\nEVE AND MARY CONTINUED.\n\nThe history of the fall of man, caused by Eve, and of his\nrestoration, brought about by Mary, is a subject of grave\nconsideration for women of serious minds, for women who have at heart\nthe preservation of the dignity and vocation of their sex. By a close\nconsideration of these two models, which furnish the solution to so\nmany enigmas, explaining so many truths and throwing so much light\nupon the most obscure and the most profound questions, they will\nlearn by a short and easy method what they should do, and what they\nshould avoid; they will learn how sin has been propagated, the reason\nwhy it still exists; they will learn how justice and virtue flourish\nupon earth, how men turn away from God, and how they return to Him.\nIt was with reason that God allowed sin and justice to attain us\nthrough the agency of woman, and that her free consent was a\nnecessary condition for both the ruin and the restoration of the\nhuman race.\n\nIt is therefore an interesting and useful study to consider in their\ndetail and most minute circumstances the acts (so extremely opposed)\nof these two women, for one of them, according to the beautiful\nexpression of the Church, has restored to us by her divine Son what\nthe other had deprived us of by her disobedience. There is in these\ntwo facts, so different in their nature and results, a wonderful\ngradation which points out to us the fatal declivity by which the\nhuman heart insensibly sinks to the lowest abyss of evil, or rises to\nthe highest degree of virtue and glory. In the sin of Eve the first\ndegree was a certain intemperance of language, which led her to reply\nto the insidious questions of the devil; in appearance this\nforgetfulness was very slight. To answer a question, give an\nexplanation requested of you, clear up a doubt, render an account of\na precept of the Lord, seem at first sight something natural and\npermitted. It is quite easy to be deceived in this matter. We readily\nconvince ourselves that we are actuated by laudable motives in such\nlike conversations--motives for gloryfying God and justifying His\nprovidence; but we should be extremely cautious: language is\nsomething august and sacred, for it is the tie that unites the soul\nto God, and man to his fellow-men,--it is the mysterious knot of all\nsocieties, divine and human.\n\nLanguage establishes between those who speak a more intimate\nrelation than they are generally aware of. Few persons realize the\nprodigious transfusion of thoughts, sentiments, influence and life\nthat arise from conversation. Have you clearly understood this truth\nin its full force? Language establishes between souls a very close\nand mysterious union, and this is why discretion, prudence and\nreserve are so necessary in regulating its use. This is why Jesus\nChrist warns us in the Gospel, that we shall render an account of\n_every idle word_, if indeed we may call idle a thing that\nentails such frightful consequences or fatal results.\n\nIf this reserve is necessary for all it is more especially so for\nwoman, who, being more communicative than man, experiences a greater\nnecessity to speak--to express herself more freely, and in terms more\nexplicit. If women were sincere and impartial judges of themselves\nthey for the most part would not fail to recognize that nearly all\ntheir faults spring from a useless word--an imprudent answer, or an\nindiscreet question.\n\nThe word why is indeed very short, but in its insidious brevity it\ncomprises a multitude of things which are all the more dangerous\nbecause they are unforeseen, being concealed in a perfidious and\ncloudy vagueness. Why? This word is the beginning of the greater part\nof those temptations against frailty. The enemy, seeking our\ndestruction, almost invariably announces his presence by this\ncaptious question, either by the mouth of another or by our own mind,\nin order to fill the heart with doubt and trouble. Why take such and\nsuch precautions? Why avoid such a place, such a person, such\ncompany? Why renounce such and such amusements? Why neglect or cast\noff that ornament? Why suffer this or that privation? Why abstain\nfrom this action, which is not bad in itself? Why turn away the ear\nfrom those praises, those compliments, dictated by usage or\netiquette, to keep up that intercourse without which society would be\nimpossible? Why not read this book, this novel? Why not assist at\nthis play which the most rigorous moralist would not condemn; and\nwhich has for its object to inspire horror for vice, by placing\nbefore our eyes its doleful consequences true to reality? Why\nrestrain to inaction the finest faculties of the soul, and refuse\nthem the aliment they so ardently crave? Why deprive our heart and\nimagination of the pleasures which the beautiful inspires? Why not\nform at an early age a taste for worldly beauty, and be possessed of\nall the resources and advantages that it affords us during life? Why\nbe mistrustful of the mind and heart, at an age when they still\npossess all their simplicity and freshness, through vain fear which\nrenders after-life almost intolerable? Why not be more confiding in\nthe heart's fidelity and in the goodness of God, who has not\ncondemned man to constant privations?--Such is the language that the\nenemy of our eternal salvation and happiness addresses us every day\nwith such perfidious adroitness; and who, spite of the experience of\nthose whom he has already deceived, deceives us every day.\n\nThis language is the more perfidious for being apparently truthful\nand natural. When there is question of corrupting a heart that is yet\nvirtuous, vice conceals itself under the mantle of virtue, as\notherwise its efforts would be powerless. Now, we can safely say that\nits venom has already tainted the young lady's heart, when, through\ninattention and want of vigilance, she has suffered doubt to brood\nover any of those obligations which are so delicate and difficult to\ndetermine, and, nevertheless, most grave and important, since they\nentail, when neglected, the most disastrous results. Firmness of\nmind, assurance in her convictions, a clear and strong consciousness\nof duty, are to her indispensable qualifications; and when she\nsuffers this tenor of conduct to be interfered with by imprudently\nreplying, like Eve, to a captious question, the peace and innocence\nof her heart are certainly threatened.\n\nThe young girl's innocence is something that is very imperfectly\nknown; the delicate and almost imperceptible shades that reflect its\nbeauty and which render it delightful to God and His angels, escape\nthe general notice of mankind. It is composed of a chaste ignorance\nof mind, a great simplicity of heart, and a constant and unwavering\nfirmness of will. Now, what merits our greatest attention is the fact\nthat this firmness of will begins to give way in woman the moment she\nremoves, even by a slight doubt, this precious veil of ignorance\nwhich protects her virtue, or when, by an indiscreet question, or an\nimprudent answer, she exposes the simplicity of her heart.\n\nThe virtues which adorn the heart of a young lady are concealed from\nher own knowledge. God has so enveloped her in mystery that He alone\nunderstands her. None other save the penetrating eye of God should\nlook into the sanctuary of her heart. None other than His light\nshould shine in this holy and chaste obscurity, and this is why\nhumility, of which we have found so perfect a model in Mary, should\nbe the necessary shield and guarantee of a young lady's innocence.\nShe ought not to have the slightest misgivings relative to the value\nof the treasure she possesses or the loss she would sustain in losing\nit.\n\nThe presence of an angel sufficed to trouble Mary. Oh, young ladies\nshould meditate well and frequently on the conduct that Mary observed\nin this interview, and imitate her example! She did not answer the\nAngel's words, but she observed an humble and modest silence. Not so\nwith Eve who, without reflection, answered the devil's question, and\nby this first reply began a conversation the issue of which has\nproved so disastrous to the whole human race. Learn from this two-fold\nexample, and from the effects so different which have resulted\nfrom both, how much you should fear Eve's curiosity in yourself, and\nwith what care and assiduity you should labor to imitate the reserve\nand silence of Mary.\n\nCuriosity is a most dangerous rock for a young lady,--this is the\nrock upon which a countless number of your sex and age have been\nwrecked. The moment that you pander to the desire of knowing\neverything, you immediately enter on a most dangerous way, the issue\nof which is at least precarious. It was for having satisfied this\ndesire that Eve opened the door to all the calamities that afflict\nand will afflict mankind till the end of time. And, since then, it\nhas caused the ruin of a countless number of women.\n\nIntrench, so to speak, your mind in the citadel of your own heart.\nLet it repose in the holy obscurity of an humble and docile faith,\nand you will learn more useful things in this way than you could ever\nlearn even from the best books and the most eloquent instructions.\nFaith and prayer should be the daily food of your soul. Faith, with\nits imperfect yet celestial light, will meet all the legitimate wants\nof your mind; and prayer, with its divine unction, will embalm your\nsoul.\n\nOften turn your eyes toward heaven, and earth will soon lose all its\nattractions. Converse frequently with God and you will find it easier\nto dispense with the intercourse of men; keep your mind at a remote\ndistance from all worldly knowledge, and the innocence of your heart\nwill enjoy sweet repose. Seek not to anticipate by an indiscreet\nprecipitancy the time when the realities of life shall open out to\nyour view. Perhaps, more than once you will regret the happiness\nwhich you now enjoy, and which is due both to your knowledge and\nignorance of things.\n\nIn reality, you possess by faith the same knowledge that the blessed\nhave in heaven, that knowledge which has been the object of the\nstudy, research and love of the most renowned minds and of the most\nperfect souls in this world. Faith, elevating you above yourself and\nall earthly things, leads you to regions to which the most\ndistinguished genius, joined to the most profound and persevering\nstudy, can never approach. Faith makes you in a certain way the\nsister of angels and of men,--of men who have been the most\nremarkable on earth for their excellent qualities of head and heart.\nFaith associates you with the glorious choirs of heaven, and, when\ntruly lively and active, will bring you unalloyed felicity and\nineffable joy.\n\nWhy should you envy those women, who, for being older than you, have\ngained by experience a knowledge of things that you should still\nignore? Why seek to compare their knowledge with that which you\npossess? The knowledge that you have obtained by faith has cost your\nmind no effort--not a single regret to your heart, no remorse to your\nconscience. Every step that you make in this illuminated way recalls\nto your mind a sweet and precious souvenir, the pure reflections of\nwhich will be the only light that will dispel the gloom of the trials\nand anguish of life. It shall be very different with regard to what\nyou must learn in time to come. Experience is a severe teacher, whose\nlessons are dearly bought; this is clearly and forcibly expressed by\nthe Holy Ghost saying: \"He that adds something to the knowledge\nalready acquired, adds at the same time new pains to those he already\nsuffers.\"\n\nSo far you have learned the one thing necessary to man, and which\nmeets all his wants: you have learned how to please God, to love and\nserve Him by the observance of His commandments, and fidelity to his\ninspirations, acknowledging and honoring His authority and power over\nyou in your parents, who are, in your regard, His representatives. So\nthat at present duty possessing pleasing attractions offers none of\nthose difficulties which, at a later period of life, will render it\noftentimes painful. Your virtues, protected by that reserve which the\nworld itself has imposed upon youth, guarded by the vigilance of a\ntender and careful mother, aided by her examples, encouraged by her\nexhortations and love, tranquilly grow up in the modest sanctuary of\nthe family, without the remotest idea of the trials they must one day\nmeet with.\n\nTo learn what pertains to faith and salvation, good will suffices.\nWe are always sure to succeed in pleasing God when we are sincerely\ndesirous to serve Him; in this regard we can never anticipate Him.\nNot so with the science which teaches how to please men and secure\ntheir good will or favor, to enter into their views, conform to their\nlaws and customs. No matter how great our desire may be to succeed,\nwe are never sure of success, and very often the efforts made to\nsecure it remove us farther from the desired end. Consequently, very\noften the surest means of securing the esteem of the world is to\ndespise it, and withdraw from its tyranny. If you fail to disengage\nyourself from it, and if you wish to servilely adhere to its maxims,\nyou will often experience that they are severe and hard; and you will\nreproach yourself more than once for having desired in your youth to\ntaste of those fruits, externally so beautiful but internally so\nbitter.\n\nHence, moderation of the mind's curiosity is necessary, and in order\nto satisfy its activity apply it to those things that can be of\ninterest to your conscience and salvation, to the knowledge and study\nof those sublime truths which, while enlightening your intelligence,\nwill elevate your heart and strengthen your will. The knowledge that\nyou will acquire in this way will serve you for the rest of your\nlife, much more than all the profane and useless books that you can\nread. Accustom your mind to the love and search of serious things;\nthis will prove to be of invaluable utility to you.\n\nThere is little consistency in frivolous things, and those, who have\nfed their souls upon them during youth, find themselves void and\nabandoned when they arrive at the age when woman can please only by\ninteresting the mind and heart by solid charms and tried virtue. This\nis the age which you should constantly keep before your mind, because\nit is the one that lasts the longest, and which disposes us\nproximately for that awful moment in which our fate will be decided\nforever. Endeavor to become at an early age what you should be during\nthe greater part of your life, and what you would desire to have been\nat the hour of death.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\n\nTHE WORLD.\n\nThe world is like some objects which, when seen from afar, deceive\nthe eyes and allure the imagination; but on approaching or touching\nthem their charms vanish. It is like those carcasses that retain the\nform of a human body as long as they are buried in the obscurity of\nthe tomb, but which, on being exposed to the air, are immediately\nreduced to dust. Those who are separated from it without having ever\nknown it are exposed to be deceived by its perfidious allurements;\nand those who, in order to know it, with a view of despising it,\ndesire to mingle in its feasts and pleasures, run a greater danger of\nfalling a victim to the seductions and corruption of its charms.--\nHow, then, shall you secure the advantage and escape the danger?\n\nBy shunning the world, you secure your heart and conscience against\nits seductions; but this evasion, leaving you to consider it from a\nremote standpoint exposes your mind to prejudices favorable to it,\nand which, later, might become for you the source of many errors and\nof many faults. How shall you surmount this twofold difficulty? On\nthe one hand you cannot mingle with the world without danger, and on\nthe other hand it will not do for you to ignore its dangers which\nmust be known in order to be avoided. This dilemma would be of no\nconsequence to a frivolous and unreflecting soul, or to a vain and\npresumptuous mind, which, confiding in its own powers, believes that\nit has a good knowledge only of what it sees and experiences; and\ncounts for naught the teachings of faith and the experience of those\nwho have gone before.\n\nLet not this be your case, but, listening with an humble and docile\nheart to the teachings of faith, reason and experience, learn to know\nthe world and its dangers while your age and condition still shield\nyou from its seductions. Of all the means by which divine Providence\nenlightens our minds here below, divine faith, as you are aware, is\nthe purest, the brightest and the most reliable,--not only because it\ncomes from God, but because it is presented to us by an authority\nwhich He has established, and which, by His special assistance, He\npreserves from all error.\n\nSacred Scripture, interpreted and explained to you by this authority\nis, therefore, the great source to which you must have recourse for\nthe knowledge of the things you _should_ know. Now you will find\nthat there is hardly a single page of those sacred writings in which\nthere is not a malediction pronounced against the world, and a\nwarning for you to avoid its siren charms. You will find in the\ngospel according to St. John its true character described by Jesus\nChrist Himself, who, being the Incarnate Wisdom, could not have any\nother than the most perfect idea of things according to their just\nvalue.\n\nIn the first place, it is certain, according to this Apostle, that\nwhen the Eternal Word came into the world it knew Him not; when Jesus\nwished to make the Jews feel the confusion of their own blindness,\nand see the reason of their opposition to His doctrine, He said: You\nare from beneath, I am from above, you are of this world, I am not of\nthis world, therefore, I say to you that you shall die in your sins.\n(John viii. 23, 24.) Could there be anything more explicit in\ncondemnation of the world? It has its origin and the throne of its\npower in the lower regions of the earth, while the kingdom of God\nresides in the sublime abode of the human heart.\n\nWhen He promised His disciples that He would send them the Spirit of\nTruth, to console them, He gave as the distinctive mark by which they\nwould know the Holy Spirit, that the world could not receive Him\nbecause it has no knowledge of Him. Hence the opposition that exists\nbetween the world and the spirit of the New Law is so great that any\ncompromise is impossible. The world is absolutely incompetent to\nreceive or understand the spirit of Jesus Christ. Another fact will\nrender this manifest opposition still more palpable. When Jesus\naddressed His eternal Father that beautiful prayer preceding His\nagony and passion, He excluded the world by a positive act of His\nwill, in order to give all to understand that the world could never\nhave any share with Him. \"_I pray not for the world but for them\nwhom thou hast given me. The world hath hated them because they are\nnot of the world as I also am not of the world._\" (John xvii. 9,\n14.)\n\nSt. Paul interprets these words in that energetic style so\ncharacteristic of his writings, when he says to the Corinthians that\n\"we have not received the spirit of this world whose wisdom is folly\nbefore God.\" Now shall you adopt as the rule of your conduct and\njudgment a wisdom which God has not only reproved, but even branded\nwith the stigma of folly? According to the same Apostle the world\nproves by its own words that its knowledge is stupidity, since it can\nsee nothing but folly in the cross. The maxims, ideas, judgments,\nconduct and habits of the world and those of the flock that Jesus\ncame to save are so contradictory, their language is so different,\nthat the wise of the one are fools with the other; and the things\nregarded as the most sublime by the former are to the latter\npreposterous absurdities. The reason is simply because the one has\nits origin, light and end in heaven, while the other draws them from\nthe earth.\n\nNow, if, in order to verify these words of the Sacred Scriptures,\nyou take a view of the doctrine of the world and of that of Jesus\nChrist, and compare them, you will not find a single point in the one\nthat is not in direct contradiction to the other; so that, by the\nGospel, you are enabled to discover the maxims of the world, and\n_vice versa_. You may rest assured that what is recommended and\nsought for by the one is censured and despised by the other. St.\nPaul, speaking to the Galatians, says; that \"if he was still pleasing\nto men he would not be the servant of Jesus Christ.\"\n\nIf this be the case, you will say, why remain in the world? Is it\nnot every one's duty to leave it as soon as possible and abandon it\nto its own corruption? Let the words of our divine Lord answer: \"_I\ndo not pray you to remove them from the world, but I pray you to\npreserve them from evil._\" Our peace of conscience in this life,\nand the joys of heaven hereafter require separation from the world\nand opposition to its maxims. But this separation is one of mind and\nheart, which consists in a manner of thinking, judging and acting\nentirely opposed to that of the world. Man ceases to belong to the\nworld the moment he has ceased to make it the arbitrator of his\nconduct and judgment, and when he has freed himself from its\nprejudices, caprices and tyranny. Behold what religion requires of\nyou, and what alone will insure you happiness in this life and in the\nnext.\n\nNow, what is this world from which we must separate in order to lead\na Christian life? In any society, that we wish to study with a view\nto obtain a knowledge of its nature and objects, we may consider\neither the laws by which it is governed, or the body of men who\ncompose it and who are governed by these laws.\n\nConsidered from the first point of view, the world consists in its\nown maxims, laws, customs and judgments, which are in opposition to\nthe letter and spirit of the Gospel; and which tend to withdraw the\nsoul from the love of spiritual things, or at least to create in her\na dislike for them.\n\nConsidered from the second point of view, the world comprises a mass\nof men who profess its maxims, adopt its usages, obey its laws, and\nyield to its judgments.\n\nThe world thus considered entails a twofold obligation for you, one\nof which can never admit of any exception or dispensation, while the\nobservance of the other must be always regulated by prudence and\ncharity. Indeed the world, considered in its maxims, should be for\nyou an object of constant aversion and contempt, because it is the\narch enemy of Jesus Christ and of the spirit that He communicates to\nHis true disciples. This is the world that you renounced on the day\nof your baptism; and the solemn engagement that you then made was the\nfirst and most important of all those that you have made, or will\nmake, during life.\n\nBut, while it is never permitted you to adopt the maxims of the\nworld, charity, prudence, and the consideration due to your position,\nage and family, will not allow you to effectively isolate yourself\nfrom those who have adopted its maxims as the rule of their actions\nand judgments. In this you should conform to all that due decorum\nrequires, and endeavor to preserve your mind and heart against the\npernicious influences often communicated by words, actions, lessons\nor examples of those who are slaves of the laws or customs of the\nworld. The danger is the more imminent inasmuch as the sunny side\nonly of the world is displayed to you; while no pains are spared on\nthe part of those bound to you by the most sacred ties to engage you\nto adopt their views and imitate their example. This is certainly one\nof the most delicate positions in which a young lady can be placed,\nwhen her only arms of defense are the uprightness of her mind, the\ninnocence of her heart and the purity of her instincts.\n\nSt. Bernard says, \"to serve God is to reign.\" By a contradictory\nassertion, we can safely say, to serve the world is to be a slave;\nand of all servitudes there is none so hard nor so humiliating as\nthat which the world imposes upon those who yield to its empire. If\nGod were so exacting as the world, so inflexible in the laws that He\nimposes upon us, so severe in the chastisements by which\ndelinquencies are punished, piety would be an insupportable burden\nthrough the weakness of the greater part of men; and God would find\nvery few worshipers who would be willing to submit to such an ordeal.\n\nWhat is most remarkable and worthy of compassion is the fact that,\nvery often, those who groan the most under this slavery are at the\nsame time those who support it with the greatest resignation.\n\nTo suffer for a genuine duty, for a generous sentiment, for a noble\nor grand idea, is something which the human heart can, not only\naccept, but even love and choose with a certain pride; but to suffer\nfor the sake of worldly etiquette, for the sake of fashion, for\nthings and parsons despised for their tyranny, is a deplorable\nhumiliation for those who do it. And, nevertheless, the greater part\nof those who might be called world-worshipers, who seem to give it\nthe _tone_, bear patiently its yoke, which debases them in their\nown eyes,--pandering to necessities which they have imprudently\ncreated, and from which they now find it impossible to free themselves.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\n\nTHE SAME SUBJECT CONTINUED.\n\nIF the life of a woman of the world were proposed as a model, and,\nafter having carefully examined all her occupations, you would\ndiscover what would be hard for you to be convinced of before having\ndone so, namely: that there are women so inconsiderate as to feast\ntheir minds on such frivolities, so forgetful of their dignity as to\nmake it subservient to such misery, so trifling as to make a serious\nwork of _bag itelles_, which at most can be considered as little\nbetter than childish amusement; your soul, still rich in its\nprimitive candor, and favored with an energy tempered in the love and\nhabit of virtue, would revolt at the thought of such debasement. And,\nnevertheless, unless you apply your mind to acquire a love for\nserious matters you will not escape a disorder which you so justly\ndeplore in others; you will be captured in those windings which have\nproved fatal fastnesses to women of other days. There remains no\nchoice between these two alternatives: you must either found your\nconduct upon intelligence enlightened by faith, or abandon it, like a\nrudderless ship, to the caprice of passion and pleasure.\n\nThe life of a worldly woman is a fictitious life: nature seems to\nhave no attractions for her; her soul has lost all taste for its\ncharms; she studiously endeavors to shut out its influences, and to\nsubvert as much as possible the order by which it is governed. This\nestrangement, this disgust with nature, haunts her wherever she goes,\neven in the making of her toilet, even in the employment of her time.\nShe converts day into night and night into day, giving to pleasure\nthe time destined for repose; she purloins from the industrious hours\nof day the sleep and rest for which her wearied limbs and excited\nimagination contend.\n\nWhile she is sleeping, the humble daughter of St. Benedict or St.\nDominic leaves her cell to sing the praises of the Lord, and offer\nHim the day with its duties consecrated without reserve to His glory.\nWhen heavy curtains screen her restless slumber from the sun's\nobtrusive light, the pious daughter of St. Vincent de Paul descends\ninto the folds of her own heart in meditation, and enkindles in the\nfire of divine love the charity with which she must cheer the poor or\nsick whom she is destined to visit during the day.\n\nWhat a difference between those two lives! The worldling rises\nrested, but not from a refreshing sleep, she is aroused perhaps by\nthe importunate rays of the mid-day sun or by the noisy tramping of\nhardy workmen who, after their half day's work is done, return home\nto partake of a frugal repast and receive the sweet greetings of a\nChristian family. It is then that her day begins, as also the series\nof the _grave_ occupations that are destined to fill it. The\ntime is short and scarcely suffices to prepare herself for the\nevening amusements; all her energies are now employed to give herself\nthat external grace and charm necessary to render her conspicuous in\nthe joyous circle. Alas! the worldly woman is entirely absorbed in\nherself, and when she does something for others, it is with a view to\nsecure her own interest or pleasure. That devotedness, that generous\nsacrifice and disinterestedness characteristic of true friendship is\nto her a mere paradox, as she is an entire stranger to its effects\nand charms.\n\nAfter her toilet, her most serious occupations are the visits which\nshe pays and receives. A visit prompted by charity or some other\nvirtue is good, highly commendable and praiseworthy. I admire and\nunderstand the woman who leaves the peaceful company of her family,\nwhen no pressing need requires her presence, to go and visit the poor\nand destitute, in order to sweeten their bitter lot by a word of\nencouragement or a little alms. I understand and admire her who\nreadily sacrifices her legitimate joy in order to go and mingle her\ntears with those of her friend and mitigate her sorrow or share it\nwith her. I understand and esteem the woman who, impressed by the\nsuperior wisdom and exemplary piety of another woman, goes to her for\nadvice, devoting with pleasure her leisure hours to that end. I see\nin all these circumstances a motive that is serious, honorable,\npraiseworthy, and capable of acting upon a noble heart and an\nelevated intelligence. But, among the visits made by worldly women;\nhow few there are that are prompted by such motives! The greater part\nof those women visit with no other view than to pass the time, to\npander to their own vanity and curiosity, to form or execute some\nintrigue. What is said and done in their visits is worthy of the\nmotive that inspires them. There is not a single serious thought\nexpressed, not a single word to show that these women have an\nintelligence capable of comprehending the truth, a heart made to love\nwhat is good, or a soul capable of receiving God Himself. If life\nwere but a dream, if there be no hereafter, if at death the soul must\nperish with the body; and man must sink into the nothingness whence\nhe sprang; they would have nothing to change in their visits,\nconversations and conduct.\n\nThere is a visit celebrated in Holy Writ, a visit paid by a young\nwoman to one of her own sex but more advanced in years, a visit so\nholy and renowned that its anniversary is celebrated throughout the\nChristian world,--it is the visit paid by the Blessed Virgin to her\ncousin St. Elizabeth. O, Christian ladies, behold your true model!\nCompare this visit with yours, and judge yourselves according to it.\nCompare your motives with those of Mary. Compare your conversations\nwith that sublime conversation of which the sacred writer has given\nus a fragment, being the most sublime canticle that has ever been\nuttered by any intelligent creature under the action of divine\ninspiration. Oh, what a world-wide difference between this sublime\ncanticle and the light and frivolous conversations in which so many\nwomen indulge; if you were to look for the reverse of this heavenly\nvisit you would invariably find it among the visits paid by worldly\nwomen.\n\nMary carries with her the Son of God, the Author of grace, the\nPrinciple of eternal life, the Source of chaste desires and holy\nhopes. The worldly woman carries with her in her visits the spirit of\nthe world, the spirit of deception, egotism and folly, which is in\nevery way opposed to the spirit of Christianity. Mary sings the\npraises of humility and proclaims it the virtue beloved of God,--the\nvirtue which secures His love and assistance; she extols the\nhappiness of those who thirst for justice and truth, deploring at the\nsame time the spiritual poverty and indigence of those who are puffed\nup with self-conceit. The worldly woman, on the contrary, seeks in\nher conversations to flatter her vanity and pride by parading the\nempty resources of her imagination and misguided intelligence. She\nenvies the happiness of those who, rich in beauty and all those\nqualities that charm, draw many admirers around them. Elizabeth, on\nbeholding her cousin, felt her infant leap for joy. The worldly woman\nstirs up in the hearts of those whom she visits the most frivolous\ninstincts, and sometimes even the worst passions.\n\nThis tableau excites your love and disgust. The comparison frightens\nyou; and perhaps in the simplicity of your heart you will say, it is\nnot free from exaggeration. On the contrary, you will be sadly\ndisappointed when, at a more advanced age, you will clearly see that\nthis is a very mild and subdued picture of what is true and real.\nYour age and innocence do not allow me to reveal to you all the\nmysteries of sin--all the snares, all the dangers, all the\nfrivolities that fill up the days of a worldly woman.\n\nWould that what I have said of her may inspire you with salutary\nhorror for her life; and make you shun the snares in which she has\nbeen taken! I pray that you, satisfied with the knowledge you have of\nher follies, may never feel the desire of adding to what you already\nknow, the fatal knowledge imparted by experience! That you may never\nforget these words of St. John: _Love not the world, nor the things\nwhich are in the world; for all that is in the world is the\nconcupiscence of the flesh and the concupiscence of the eyes and the\npride of life._ (I John ii. 15-16.)\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\n\nTHE WILL.\n\nSt. John, the Apostle, addressing those who have not yet passed the\nage of adolescence, says in his first Epistles: _\"I write unto you,\nbecause ... you have overcome the wicked one.\"_ Then speaking to\nthose who have attained the age of manhood, he says: _\"I write to\nyou, young men, because you are strong, and the word of God abideth\nin you, and you have overcome the wicked one.\"_ Again, in the book\nof Proverbs, chapter xxxi, the inspired writer speaks in the\nfollowing terms: \"_who shall find a valiant woman? The price of her\nis as of things brought from afar off, and from the uttermost coasts ...\nShe hath put out her hand to strong things ... strength and\nbeauty are her clothing; and she shall laugh in the latter day, she\nhath opened her mouth to wisdom and the law of clemency is on her\ntongue.... Favor is deceitful, and beauty is vain; the woman that\nfeareth the Lord, she shall be praised. Give her of the fruit of her\nhands; and let her works praise her in the gates._\"\n\nThus, according to Holy Writ, fortitude or strength is the portion\nof youth, which is manifested by the victories of the will over the\nenemy of our salvation. This valor is regarded by the sacred writer\nas one of the finest qualities with which woman can be adorned, since\nshe owes to it all her true success and glory. Now what is this\nprecious quality? In what faculty of the soul does it reside? What\nare the signs by which its presence is made manifest? What is the end\nto which it tends? What are the rewards that crown its victories?\nThese are questions of deep interest, and the importance attached to\na knowledge of their solution cannot be too great.\n\nIn the first place we shall begin by stating that the seat of valor\nis found in the will. To be valiant consists in willing intensely\nwhat is painful to nature, accomplishing what is proposed with energy\nand perseverance. I have often treated this subject, but it is so\ninexhaustible that it always seems new. Its importance grows with\ntime, and now-a-days it cannot be insisted on too much, nor can there\nbe too much attention paid to it by those who wish to preserve in\nthis world the integrity of their conscience and lead an\nirreproachable life.\n\nAlas it is painful to avow that this generous will is too rarely met\nwith. This noble faculty of the soul is made subservient to other\nfaculties which should be subject to and directed by it. The mind has\nperhaps acquired greater vivacity and penetration. The imagination,\nunder the action of a constant change of images, and those sensations\nwhich the activity of life multiplies so rapidly in our time, has\nperhaps become richer and more varied. The heart, cherished while\nyoung by the cares and caresses common to the paternal roof, has\nperhaps more confidence and candor. But the will, what has become of\nit, what has it gained by this development of all the powers of the\nsoul? Where is its place among them? It should be their ruler,\nwhereas it is made their slave; they have conspired its overthrow.\n\nIt is true that very often the enfeebling of this great faculty is\ndue to the excessive tenderness of those who have allowed us to\ncontract pernicious habits. Who is it that speaks to the child's\nwill? Who teaches him how to use that faculty and resist with energy\nthe caprices of his imagination, the passions of the heart, the\nempire of the senses, the seductions of the world? These are duties\nthat the will is called on to discharge, and as long as man shall\nlive such duties will be of daily occurrence,--hence the will is\ndestined to be constantly called into action.\n\nThe will serves us when all the other faculties fail to act. When\nthe exhausted imagination sinks into a lethargic slumber; when the\nworried heart loses all relish for everything; when the mind,\ndreading the light of truth, gives itself over to error and\nprejudice; when the smoke of passion blinds the intelligence and\nsuffocates the senses; it is then that the will, fashioned in the\nschool of pliant energy, seizing the reins with a firm and vigorous\ngrasp, snatches the imagination from its torpor by bringing it to\nbear on objects capable of arousing it; it is then that the will\nanimates the heart with generous and noble sentiments, and applies\nthe mind to the consideration of truths which enlighten and fortify it.\n\nThere exists a strange abuse relative to the nature and essence of\nthe will. Very often, parents, blinded by a false prejudice, see with\npleasure, and admire in their children, stubbornness and obstinacy of\ncharacter; and, looking forward to their future with an air of pride,\nthey say: \"That child will have a strong will.\" Deplorable error! Woe\nto the parents who fall into it, and the children who are its object!\nWhen the will is truly strong, far from being obstinate it is, on the\ncontrary, pliant and tractable. No human power can restore suppleness\nto the arm which a convulsive paroxysm has stiffened, yet it does not\nfollow that this arm is stronger than when it was in a healthy\ncondition. The stiffness, far from increasing its strength, decidedly\nweakens it. In like manner the will's strength does not lie in\nstubborn obstinacy, but rather in that pliancy which enables it to\ndispose itself as circumstances may require.\n\nA stubborn character has nothing in common with this noble and\nprecious faculty of the soul. And, like all the others, this faculty\npossesses two degrees of elevation; in the one it comes in direct\ncontact with the senses and, the external world; and in the other,\nraised above all sensibility, it receives its light and movement from\non high.\n\nThe will, taken in its inferior part, is nothing else than that\nappetite or blind instinct which we hold in common with the brute\ncreation; and by which animals are governed in their choice of some\nthings and their rejection of others. If the will, properly so\ncalled, consisted in this blind instinct, man would be inferior to\nthe ass and the mule, whose attractions and repugnances are more\nimperious than those of other animals. The will, as understood in the\ntrue Christian sense of the term, acts in contradiction to this\nbrutal appetite; hence they alone have a strong will who can, when\nduty and conscience require it, obey their voice with docility, in\nspite of all instinctive opposition.\n\nThe education of the will, I admit, is a long and painful process.\nWe are taught at a dear rate how to _know_ and _judge_ things;\nbut we must learn at a dearer price how to _will_. The culture\nof the mind is the least important and the easiest part of our\neducation, while the culture of the will is extremely important\nand demands much time and labor; yet, through a most culpable\nnegligence, it is just the faculty that receives the least attention\nand culture. Too many imagine that the training of the will may be\ndone at any time and, what is still more erroneous, that age,\nexperience and events will suffice to do this work. Hence we see\nevery day poor souls entering the scene of life without an educated\nwill, which alone is capable of reacting against the evils and trials\nfrom which none in this world can escape. This is the cause of that\nimbecility which renders the most precious qualities of mind and\nheart useless; generating inconsistencies and uncertainties which, in\nthe moment of trial, deprive the heart of its energy and the mind of\nall light, thus leaving the soul open to all the assaults of\nmisfortune.\n\nWe are obliged to chronicle a painful truth when we assert that the\nculture of the will is sadly neglected in education in general, but\nmore especially so in that of women. There are even some so blind as\nto think that a strong will in woman is a dangerous quality,\nalleging, as a proof of their assertion, the puerile reason, that\nsince woman was made to obey she should find in another's will the\nrule of her actions. But, we ask, if woman can have no will of her\nown, how can she exercise the virtue of obedience, since that virtue\nconsists in bending the will to duty? And since, in her sphere, she\nis constantly called on to practice obedience it is just the reason\nwhy she should have a strong will.\n\nNow if from a tender age she has not given due attention to this\nprecious faculty of her soul; if she has contracted the fatal habit\nof acting without a purpose, without reflecting, through caprice,\nfollowing by a blind instinct the allurements that flatter the senses\nand imagination; if she has not learned to conquer herself, to put\nduty before pleasure, and the voice of conscience above that of the\npassions and honor; how will she be able to live with a husband\ncapricious perhaps in his desires and stubborn in his will? How will\nshe be able to confront his exactions or cope with his rage? How will\nshe bear with the faults of her servants and of those with whom she\nmay be obliged to live? How will she, in her warnings and reproaches\nbe able to blend in a just proportion mildness and firmness, to\nobtain the salutary effects which she desires?\n\nThe path of life is not strewn with flowers; all is not joy and\nhappiness here below. Woman is destined, as well as man, to meet with\ndays of sorrow and bitterness, when a firm, patient will must be her\nonly port of safety. To woman patience is, perhaps of all virtues,\nthe most necessary to sustain her in mental anxieties and various\nother sufferings that are inevitable; and, since patience is a fruit\nof the will, it follows that a morbid will cannot produce an enduring\npatience, the deficiency of which must render her life almost\nintolerable.\n\nHe that sails with the current and a favorable wind need not ply his\noars; but when there is question of going in the contrary direction,\nwhat was at first a great advantage becomes now a double\ndisadvantage, and he can succeed only by strenuous efforts.\n\nDuring the days of youthful glee you glide gaily down the river of\nlife, going with the current, favored by the breeze of hope, charmed\nby varied and softly-changing scenes. But this time will soon have an\nend: sorrow will embitter your joys ere the frost of age shall have\ncooled the blood or chilled the imagination; very soon, in a few\nyears, perhaps, it will knock at the door of your soul; and you will\nbe obliged to give this inopportune visitor admittance, to remain\nwith you, perhaps, for the rest of your life. Among the young ladies\nof your acquaintance are there not some who are unhappy? And can you,\nwithout a voluntary illusion, convince yourself that youth is a\npreservative against misfortune? Are you prepared to ward off the\nintruder? If it wounds you how will you endure the pain? It is\nimprudent to delay the acquisition of a particular branch of learning\nuntil its practical use becomes necessary; and since it is while we\nare hale and hearty that we should learn to die well, so it is while\nprosperity smiles on us that we should learn to bear adversity. Learn\nnow, while young, to support all the vicissitudes of life; make\ntimely provision, not only against adversity, but also against\nprosperity, which for many is the more dangerous of the two.\n\nPrepare to meet not only those who will try your patience by their\nunjust or troublesome doings, but also those whose affection\nofficiousness, and flattery, will perhaps exact from you a greater\nexercise of virtue. Be on your guard, not only against others, but\nalso against yourself. Learn to bear with yourself, to suffer with\ncourage the inconstancy of your own humor, the nights of your\nimagination, the impetuosity of your character, the violent and\ninordinate movements of your heart. Accustom your will to wield the\nscepter and resolutely to govern the passions, which are most\npowerful auxiliaries for good or for evil,--for good when under the\ncomplete control of the will, for evil when they are emancipated from\nits sway, for then they become the vultures of life, and a torment of\nthe soul.\n\nNever lose sight of the fact that you require a stronger will to\nobey than to command, and that your condition, far from rendering\nyour will less necessary, shows, on the contrary, that it is\nindispensable to you; unless, by indorsing that unjust and outrageous\njudgment by which the world seeks to degrade the dignity of woman,\nyou force upon yourself the conviction that her will should count for\nnothing either at home or abroad,--that she is destined to be blindly\nled by the caprices of others; unless you confound obedience with\nservitude, and authorize the prejudices of those who pretend that\nwoman should have neither thought nor will of her own, but that\nanother is charged with thinking and willing for her, thus\nexonerating her from all responsibility.\n\nIf this be your conviction, I ask: \"Why do you read this book? Close\nit, it is not written for you; because from the first page to the\nlast it constantly discloses to your view all the titles of your\nglory and the grandeur of your dignity. Close your eyes to the light\nof truth, shackle the will's liberty lest you may see and feel the\nshame and humiliation of your sad condition; and, like a thing inert,\nawait in dumb silence until some trafficker may come and calculate\nhow much he will gain in fortune and pleasure by purchasing you!\"\nBehold the deplorable condition to which the pagan theories of the\nworld reduce woman! behold the degree of abjection to which she\nherself descends when, losing sight of the light of faith, which\nexposes the true nature of things, she suffers herself to be deceived\nby the vain systems of a world worthy of God's anathemas, and\ngoverned by the spirit of deception.\n\nNo, woman has not been created to be a slave; God has neither\ndestined nor consigned to such a humiliating state that half of\nhumanity from which He has chosen His mother, and which has been\nfavored with a holy reflection of the glory of Mary. God required a\npositive act of woman's will in her co-operation in the work of our\nredemption,--and to obtain it He did not hesitate to choose as His\nambassador, one of the brightest of His archangels. Judge from this\nthe respect and importance due to woman's will. Moreover, it is a\nsignificant truth, sustained by a long experience, that the salvation\nof a family, of a father, a brother, a son, a husband, is secured in\na great measure by the care and prayers, the firm and wise, yet mild\nand prudent conduct of a Christian woman, deeply penetrated with the\nprofound sentiment of her dignity and the true importance of her\nduties,--all of which depend upon a firm and patient will.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\n\nTHE IMAGINATION.\n\nThe imagination, that active agent of the senses, is the bee which,\nin its continual excursions, gathers from the flower-cups the sweet\nscented dust from which, by due process, it forms the wax that gives\nus light and the honey that nourishes us. Your soul is like a\nbee-hive, full of activity and life. The external world is like a\nflower-garden, in which each flower has its peculiar color, perfume\nand brightness. Your imagination is the working bee of this hive,\nwhich resounds with the humming of the senses. The will governs and\ndirects all with perfect harmony, when peaceful order reigns in all\nits workings. But the moment that the will fails to discharge the\nduties of its office, the imagination and the senses, like bees\ndeprived of their queen, wander hither and thither without any\ndetermined purpose, and the hive is abandoned to inaction or disorder.\n\nIt is of paramount importance to you to have a clear knowledge of\nthe nature, end and functions of all the faculties of your soul; so\nthat you may keep them within the province that God has allotted to\nthem, and that no disorder may arise from the attempted encroachments\nof some upon others. This point becomes one of grave importance when\nthere is question of _the imagination_, because it is the most\nrash, most ambitious, most violent and at the same time, the most\nseductive, of all the faculties.\n\nHolding an intermediate place between the soul and the senses, it is\nthe most accessible to the charms of the external world, and\nparticipates in the inconstant and tumultuous movements of our own\nsensibility. Confined to its own sphere of action, it is a precious\nauxiliary, which often facilitates the perception of the truth, and\nthe accomplishment of good, by presenting them to the mind and heart\nunder colors that render them amiable and attractive. When properly\nemployed, it is an invaluable gift of God, who has given it to us to\naid the infirmity of our nature, by rendering less painful the\nefforts that we are so often obliged to make in order to triumph over\nour bad inclinations. But when we fail to make a proper use of it, it\nthen becomes for us a source of danger, and a great obstacle to our\nadvancement towards perfection.\n\nPlaced between the will and the senses, it should neither be\ncontrolled by the latter nor emancipated from the sway of the former.\nThe faithful observance of this condition can alone insure us all the\nadvantages we may hope to derive from it. Should it prove to be a\nfrequent cause of mischief to us it is because we let it act\nindependently of the will's control--in which case it is sure to\nbecome the slave of the senses. Separated from the intelligence, from\nwhich it receives light, and from the will, which points out its\ncourse of action, the imagination is a blind instinct, precipitous in\nits movements, impetuous and inconstant in its flights, violent and\ncapricious in its pursuits. It is in constant agitation and torment,\npassing from one object to another, jumping with a single bound from\none extreme to another, from sorrow to joy, from love to hate, from\nfear to hope.\n\nIt magnifies or diminishes things according to the caprice of the\nmoment; and gives a color of sovereign importance to things which in\nreality are the merest trifles; a word, a look, a sign preoccupies\nand alarms it; it feasts on suspicion and anxiety, fictitious hopes\nand deceitful reports; it seizes with avidity on the things that\nplease it, but scarcely is it in possession of the sought for objects\nwhen it abandons them with disgust. Hence the impressions to which it\ngives rise are as whimsical and as inconstant as itself; they appear\nand disappear in the soul without any apparent reason for their\npresence or absence.\n\nThe woman, whose imagination has been developed at the expense of\nher other faculties, may be said to lead a dreamy, fictitious,\ncontentious and agitated life. This state is rendered still more\ndangerous by the agreeable forms which it assumes, and which flatter\nthe mind and senses by their rapid and constant changes. Hence it is\nthat women endowed with this doleful gift have the sad privilege of\ndrawing around them persons of volatile minds and inconstant hearts.\nThey invariably finish by becoming the dupes of their own fickle\nimpressions, and are taken in the snares in which their vanity sought\nto inveigle others.\n\nCould you but see the living tableau of one of those souls\ntyrannized by the imagination, the sight would arouse both your\ncompassion and disgust; for hers is a fickle, inconstant, fretful and\nworried life. During the long dreary days not a single instant is\ncompletely and sincerely given to God. Her thoughts, affections,\ndesires and occupations never rise above trivialness. Among the\nmultitude of persons of her acquaintance there is not a single one\nwhom she sincerely loves, or to whom she can render herself amiable.\nIn the multiplied interviews to which she has devoted her life-time\nnot a single genuine affection can be found: words which the lips\npronounce and which the heart ignores; visits made through etiquette\nor inspired by frivolity; conversations that are mutually indulged in\nfor mutual illusion or deception;--such are the joys, such the\noccupations, of this woman.\n\nWith dispositions such as these there cannot be question of sincere\npiety nor of a Christian spirit. Piety resides in the will and\nsupposes the love of duty; imagination abhors duty and seeks only\nafter pleasure. True, the grace of God is all-powerful, it is not\ntied down to the development of our natural qualities, and God knows\nwell, when He pleases, how to come to the assistance of the soul's\nfaculties, and plant the germs of solid virtue in a heart that is\nfrivolous and badly disposed; still it is an evident fact that among\nsouls there are some better prepared than others to receive this\ndivine seed, which takes deeper root when the heart is well disposed.\nNow, among all the agents that can unfit us for the reception of\ndivine grace there is none so bad as an ungoverned imagination,\nbecause it is the source, especially among women, of the most fatal\nillusions.\n\nA woman in this condition spends her whole life-time in deceiving\nherself and in deceiving others--not purposely, but by a fatal and\nvoluntary illusion; she can see nothing in its true light; all\nobjects appear to her under strange colors; she forms her judgment of\nthem according to the impression they make on the senses, or the\neffect they produce in the imagination. All this unfits her for the\nreception of those supernatural truths which fortify the mind without\ntroubling the imagination, and, consequently, she remains insensible\nto the sweet impressions of grace which acts so mildly on the heart\nas to be unperceived by the senses. To such a woman piety is a mere\nmatter of form, made up of certain practices which, in the guise of\nreligion, flatter and feed her imagination. But the most terrible\nfeature of this condition is, that it always grows worse, keeping the\nsoul in a cloud of darkness, which even the special light attendant\non death cannot dispel.\n\nThus, living and dying, they deceive themselves, and carry their\nillusions to the very tribunal of the Sovereign Judge. Then, and not\ntill then, do they discover the truth which, though _seeing_,\nthey did not _perceive_ during life. Then, in doleful cries and\nlamentations will they exclaim, Alas! _\"We deceived ourselves, we\nhave gone astray from the path of truth!\"_\n\nDo not expose yourself to the same sad fate and doleful end; avoid\nthe danger while it is yet time; train your imagination from a tender\nage, keep its activity under control,--then, instead of being a\nsource of vile it will be a source of most precious advantages to you.\n\nOne of the best means by which you can succeed in doing this is to\nfortify your will, giving it that authority and consistency which it\nneeds in order to govern the imagination; without a strong will, that\nremains always self-composed in the midst of the tumult of the senses\nand the activity of the imagination, you will certainly fail to\nconfine the latter to a just moderation.\n\nThat your judgment may enjoy perfect liberty and ease, your every\nact should be determined during peaceful calmness. Do not forget\nthat, while you are passing through moments of excitement and\npre-occupation, you are unable to see things rightly and execute them\nproperly. When in this state of mind a project is proposed to your\nconsideration; you will find that your heart is already fixed upon it\nbefore you have duly examined it; then the liberty of your mind\nbecomes shackled either by vain hopes or fears suggested by some\nblind and violent instinct. In this and similar circumstances you\nshould proceed with great precaution.\n\nIt is prudent and wise to defer taking action in any serious matter\nuntil self-composure is completely restored, until the mind is\nserene, the heart at peace, and the will in full possession of its\nliberty. Listen not to the plausible solicitations--obey not the\nimpulses of your imagination, but wait several days, or weeks, or\neven months if necessary; for a final determination taken in the\nmidst of confusion and agitation will inevitably entail bitter\nregrets. Even prayer will not obtain for you, while in such a state\nof mind, all the light that you need. What you should first ask is,\nthat God would lull this storm, and restore peace to your soul; but\nit is not the moment to pray that He may inspire you what to do in\nthis or that difficulty, because, preoccupied as you are, you will\nperhaps take for the voice of God and of your conscience the cries of\nyour troubled imagination.\n\nWhen, after a mature and serious examination of the matter at issue,\nyou have calmly discovered what course to adopt, it is then time to\nenlist the service of the imagination to aid your will, and get it\ninterested in the work that you have to do, in order to impart new\nenergy to the soul, and new light to the intelligence; when it is\ndocile to the orders of the will it is a powerful auxiliary for good.\n\nNever forget that the liberty of the mind and heart is an\nindispensable condition to judge rightly, to love with security, and\nto act with prudence; and that whatever tends to diminish this\nliberty should arouse your suspicions, no matter what may be its\napparent advantages; for these can never equal the advantages\naccruing from an unshackled heart and mind.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI.\n\n\nPIETY.\n\nMost appropriately indeed was the name _piety_ given by our\nfathers in the faith to the sentiment which elevates the mind and\nheart to God. It establishes an intimate union between God and the\nChristian soul, for it is an affection composed of the most generous\nqualities of the human heart. In woman, it is a mixture of respect,\ndevotedness and tenderness, which are enhanced still more by a\ncertain blending of fear, confidence, and candor. Man is pious\ntowards God and his parents; but the woman whose heart is not\nvitiated by anything fictitious is pious towards those whom she\nloves, for in each one of her affections may be found, combined in\ndifferent degrees, all the shades of sentiment that we have mentioned\nabove; but it is in her piety towards God that they are especially\nstriking.\n\nWoman's heart languishes for God, because it thirsts after the good\nand beautiful; and all her efforts to satisfy its cravings will prove\nfutile until it is immersed in the bosom of the Divinity, the Source\nof all goodness and beauty. With woman the heart is the great\nreceptacle of grace, the principal agent in the practice of piety and\nvirtue. If this precious disposition of her heart offers many and\ngreat advantages, it carries with it also its inconveniences. The\nheart is a near neighbor of the imagination, and the latter often\nallures the former by its charms. Its activity is often developed and\nexercised at the expense of the will, by diminishing and enfeebling\nthe power and influence of the latter. It not unfrequently happens\nthat the heart becomes the seat of dangerous illusions, when it not\nonly favors, but even indulges in that tender and sensible piety,\nwhich is founded on and fed by lively sentiments and beautiful\nimages. In this state it costs no little effort to will and act.\n\nThe reading of a pious book, the meditating on the mysteries of the\npassion and death of our Saviour will melt the heart to tenderness.\nThus, nature has a greater share than grace in piety and fervor of\nthis stamp. Self-complacency and self-love are here most adroitly\nconcealed under the garb of humility, and it requires a rare sagacity\nto discover their presence. The Christian soul in this state seeks\nnot to please God or others, but it seeks rather its own pleasure,\nand for many women this kind of piety is a form of affectation and\nvanity. With those fine sentiments and enthusiastic transports they\nremain unmortified, vain and curious lovers of flattery and averse to\nreproof, retaining all their faults, which they endeavor to conceal\nunder the mask of external piety.\n\nDo not ask such women to bridle their will or to restrain the\nsallies of their humor,--speak not to them of the good derived from\nself-mortification, self-abnegation and the love of the Cross,--words\nsuch as these have no signification for them. They are satisfied with\nsimply feeling and giving expression to those virtues, after the\nmanner of artists who, by a happy disposition of mind, are expert in\nbecoming penetrated with ideas and sentiments in which their will has\nno part whatever; and which have no moral influence over their life.\n\nThey are delighted to go with Jesus on Mount Tabor and contemplate\nHim in the splendor of His glory; but when there is question of\nparticipating in His ignominy on Calvary they most shamefully abandon\nHim. And when He asks them to aid Him to carry His cross they do it,\nif at all, as reluctantly as did Simon of Cyrene. They willingly\nmultiply prayers and exterior practices of piety, which flatter\nnatural inclinations; they frequent the Sacraments, and this\nfurnishes them the occasion and means of producing those lively and\ntender sentiments upon which the heart loves to feast.\n\nTheir doleful condition is rendered still more deplorable by the use\nof the most sacred things to nourish their self-love and sensibility.\nGrace, according to their views of the spiritual life, is only a\nmeans to render natural sensibility more delicate and refined. Thus,\nled on from one delusion to another, such women come to the end of\ntheir life, rich in foliage and flowers, but without ever having\nproduced any fruit.\n\nI hope, dear reader, that such may not be your case; but, to avoid\nall error on a point of such vital interest, meditate constantly on\nthe divine instructions that Jesus has left us in the Sacred\nScriptures, and on those also with which He inspired the pious author\nof the \"Following of Christ,\" their most perfect commentator. Learn\nto discern genuine piety from that which bears only the name. Learn\nto distinguish between its object and that which is only a means to\nattain that object,--two things which are frequently and erroneously\nconfounded, yet which are very distinct and very different from each\nother; for it is a great mistake to neglect the end by attaching too\nmuch importance to the means by which to attain it.\n\nPiety does not consist in sublime language, mystical thoughts, or\nangelical sentiments, for, according to St. Paul, we might speak the\nlanguage of angels and be still only sounding brass; neither does it\nconsist in the knowledge of divine mysteries, nor in the more\nexcellent intellectual gifts; for, according to the same apostle, a\nman might be a prophet and possess a knowledge of all science,\nwithout being on that account anything in the sight of God.\n\nFaith is truly grand, because it is the principal basis of our\njustification; and because with it we are enabled to obtain all\nthings from God. Nevertheless, man might have faith strong enough to\nmove mountains and be absolutely nothing before God. Charity to the\npoor, compassion for the unfortunate are indeed excellent virtues,\nbecause they cancel numerous sins, and because they seem to form the\nprincipal matter of that terrible judgment which will decide our weal\nor woe for eternity; yet you might distribute all your wealth among\nthe poor, and still merit no reward from God.\n\nWe are recommended by the Holy Scriptures and by the masters of the\nspiritual life to practice mortification, the perfection of which is\nfound in martyrdom; and nevertheless, though you should even lacerate\nyour body till it became one bleeding wound, and deliver it into the\nhands of the executioner to be burned, you might gain nothing thereby.\n\nNone of all those things constitutes the essence of piety. One thing\nalone can claim this privilege and that is CHARITY, not that charity\nwhich consists merely in _feeling_ and _speaking_, but a\n_charity that is active_, and which penetrates the entire life\nby its divine, influence; that charity which is patient and\nbeneficent, not envious, dealing not perversely, not puffed up. True\ncharity is not ambitious seeks not its own, is not provoked to anger,\nthinks no evil, does not rejoice in iniquity but for the good it\nbeholds everywhere, it bears all things, believes all things, hopes\nall things and endures all things; such is the soul of true piety\naccording to the Apostle St. Paul. (Cor. I Epist., xiii chap.)\n\nOur divine Lord clearly defines its nature in the following terms:\n\"_If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up\nhis cross, and follow me, for he that will save his life, shall lose\nit, and he that shall lose his life for my sake shall find it._\"\n(Matth. ch. xvi.) To be a Christian consists in walking in the\nfootsteps of Jesus Christ. Hence, to follow Him and carry the cross,\nself-denial is the first and most necessary qualification. In order\nto enjoy the eternal happiness of the future life we must sacrifice\nthe false joys of earth. Again, He tells us: \"_The kingdom of\nheaven suffereth violence, and the violent bear it away_,\" that is\nto say, _the valiant, the energetic, and persevering_, will\nalone succeed in securing it; for the words _bear away_ express\nthe action of one that seizes a prey. Add to these texts those others\nof St. Paul: _\"If any man have not the spirit of Christ, he is none\nof his,\"_ that is--he does not belong to Christ, he is not His\ndisciple; and _\"they that are Christ's have crucified their flesh\nwith the vices and concupiscences.\"_\n\nNow I would not have you think that the piety of which I speak is\ntoo elevated for you, that it can he practiced only by members of\nreligious orders, and very holy laics--this is by no means the case.\nWhat is required of you is nothing more than what our Lord and all\nthe saints would have you do.\n\nI must point out another error not less pernicious to the practice\nof true piety, namely; that of taking the means to the acquisition of\npiety as the end for which you practice it, for the means should at\nall times be appreciated according to their just value, or according\nto the assistance they give you to attain your end as a true\nChristian, which consists in dying to self and to self-glory. I would\nnot have you judge of your progress in perfection by the number of\nyour communions, or the multitude of your pious practices, or the\nlength of your prayers, but by the victories which you gain over\nyourself, over your passions, your character, and your temper.\n\nLike all other good things, you can turn prayer to your spiritual\ndetriment, when you have recourse to it through vain glory. Be\nthoroughly convinced of the truth expressed by the Evangelist St.\nJohn, _that he is a liar who says that he loves God, and does not\nkeep his commandments._ Remember that the spirit of darkness, as\nSt. Paul tells us, can, and often does, transform himself into an\nangel of light, and produce in the mind false lights, which dazzle\nand blind it.\n\nNow that you know in what the essence of piety consists, you ought\nto learn in what faculty of the soul it resides, and this knowledge\nwill preserve you from many illusions, and point out to you the\ndirection in which you must advance in order to attain your end.\n\nPiety, should, by its divine influence, penetrate all the faculties\nof the soul and take possession of your whole being; it ought, as we\nhave said above, to make its presence especially felt in your heart,\nby purifying all its affections; but its principal abode should be in\nthe will, through which it may reach all the other faculties in order\nto elevate and vivify them.\n\nThe will is, indeed, if I may so speak, the organ or the instrument\nof sacrifice and duty; and since piety properly consists in sacrifice\nand duty, in suppressing the inordinate appetites of the human heart,\nand elevating nature above herself, the will is the faculty in which\npiety should reside.\n\nIt is not an easy matter to be truly pious, for, in order to attain\nto a superior order of spiritual perfection, we must lay aside\n_self_ which paralyzes all the generous movements of the soul,--\nwe must also faithfully correspond to divine grace. All this entails\nmuch difficulty, many struggles, and, consequently, great and\nconstant efforts.\n\nEvery being has a tendency, founded on an imperious instinct, to\ndwell in its natural sphere, which it can not leave even to enter a\nsuperior one without making a great effort. Hence, the Holy Ghost\nwarns him who desires to serve God to prepare for temptation and\nstruggle. Now, among all the faculties of the soul, the will is the\nbest disposed for the combat, because pleasure has a smaller share in\nits movements than in those of the heart and imagination; it is able,\nwhen necessary, to rise superior to the most alluring charms,\npreferring fidelity to duty with all its difficulties and bitterness.\n\nTo be pious implies the faithful observance of God's commandments,\n_\"If you love me,\"_ says Christ, _\"keep my commandments;\"_\nit consists in being resigned to the will of God, ready to be\ndisposed of at His good pleasure. To do this you must place all your\nfaculties, and especially your will at His disposal. God has reserved\nto Himself the right of acting in an intimate and profound manner\nupon the will. This faculty is His sanctuary, in which He delights to\ndwell, and operate the prodigies of His grace and love, which He\ncommunicates with unbounded prodigality to His elect.\n\nThis is the throne upon which He silently engraves the image of His\ndivine Son, the essential characteristic of predestination. It is in\nthis power of the human soul that He plants in the depth of Christian\nhumility the foundation of solid virtue, in defiance to the disorders\nof the mind, the agitations of the heart and the incoherencies of the\nmemory.\n\nFrom the bosom of the Divinity our Blessed Lord brought with Him two\nspecial favors, one of which was for His eternal Father, and the\nother to be given persons of good-will. He charged His angels to\nannounce them to the world in the person of the shepherds. They were,\nglory for His Father and peace for men, but only for men of good-\nwill. This heavenly peace is a foretaste of the never-ending joys of\nParadise. It is a prize worth striving for, and easy to secure, at\nleast for you, since it is promised to all persons of good-will.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII.\n\n\nVOCATION.\n\nGod, who has created all things by His own power, conserves them by\nan act of His divine love; and by His providence leads them to their\nappointed destiny through ways conformable to their own nature. He\ndid not create man to live a solitary being, and, consequently,\nimplanted in his heart an instinctive need of society; desiring that\nthe latter should effectively contribute to the development of the\nfaculties of soul and body. And, as society cannot subsist without a\ncertain variety of conditions, and functions, which lend each other\nmutual aid, He has planted in our souls certain dispositions in\nharmony with the particular state of life to which He has destined\nus. This is what is called _vocation_.\n\nIt is, as you perceive, only a particular form of that general\nprovidence by which God governs the universe, giving to the lilies\ntheir eclat and perfume, watching with maternal care over the young\nbrood, preparing its food for the little bird, and not allowing a\nsingle hair to fall from our heads without His permission. I\npurposely make use of the beautiful images that Jesus Himself\nemployed to reveal to us the sweet mystery of providence.\n\nTo deny that man has a special vocation is placing him in a rank\ninferior to the plants and irrational animals. It is denying the\nvariety of dispositions which enter into the combination of\ncharacter, and which is at once one of the greatest charms of and\nmost precious advantages to society; it is forcing on the mind the\nconviction that every one is free to choose, whether in or out of\nseason, his post in the world, even when such a course would be\ncontrary to the principles of common-sense, and would entail the\nsubversion of society; for, let each and every one be directed in the\nchoice of his post by the whims and caprices of nature, assuredly\nsociety will soon become demoralized, even as an army in which each\nsoldier would be free to choose and take the grade and position that\nbest suited his tastes.\n\nIf society is kept in a constant feverish agitation, by the furious\ncontests of ungoverned passion, it is because no one, or at least the\nvast number never take the trouble to consult God by prayer, or\notherwise, before making a choice of a state of life. If there are so\nmany dissatisfied with their state of life it is because they are not\nwhere God had destined them to be. If life is blighted with\ndeception, fraught with regrets and bitterness, if our fairest hopes\nare blasted, if pain and sorrow brood over our existence, it is\nbecause the soul suffers the punishment entailed by her levity or\nnegligence in a matter on which her weal or woe depends, both for\ntime and eternity.\n\nOh, how sadly rare in the world is that sweet and celestial peace,\nthat interior contentment, that pure and simple joy which in holier\ntimes families prized as their most precious inheritance; and which\nthey handed down to their posterity as one of their richest gifts:\nthen the thought of God and eternity presided over all the important\nactions of their life; then the light of heaven was invoked when\nthere was question of any important undertaking; and as grave matters\nwere considered and weighed in the light of truth and religion, due\nattention was paid to the choice of a state of life.\n\nThey knew that, while other proceedings might be changed, and\nconsequently their fatal result averted when foreseen, the step made\nin the choice of a state of life is irrevocable and a mistake made in\nthat step not only involves our happiness or misery for time but also\nfor eternity. Hence it is said by many that vocation is closely\nallied with predestination.\n\nIt is a most solemn moment in the Christian's life, for it is the\nbeginning of that road by which he must attain his destination. At\nthis juncture it is consoling to consider with the eye of faith, the\nlove and solicitude with which God protects the soul; to behold Jesus\noffering with ineffable tenderness for her the blood which He shed on\nthe cross. To see the guardian angel redoubling his charitable\nefforts in the interest of his client, awaiting with pious anxiety\nthe issue of a deliberation upon which must depend in a great measure\nthe success or failure of his labors for her eternal salvation.\n\nStill, should any one be so unfortunate as to make a bad choice, let\nhim not consider his condition irremediable; divine mercy has\ninexhaustible resources from which to provide us with the means to\nwork out our salvation, and prevent the doleful consequences of those\nfatal errors.\n\nYet, it is certain beyond all question, that we render the work of\nour eternal salvation always more difficult when we have not embraced\nthat state of life which God had laid out for us; for the sins which\nare a consequence of this want of correspondence to the divine will,\nwill have, if not a decisive influence, at least a considerable share\nin the work of our reprobation. How many souls now writhing in\neternal torments could, on ascending the course of their lives, point\nout the solemn moment in which they made a choice of a state of life\nas the time of their departure from the road to heaven.\n\nNo Christian who has his salvation at heart will hesitate to say\nthat it is folly to treat with indifference and levity a matter of\nsuch vital importance; for he must remember with a sacred awe that,\nwhen he makes a choice of a state of life, he pronounces in a certain\nmanner an irrevocable sentence on himself.\n\nWhen the soul is deprived of the advantages of a rule of life, of\nthe advantages of good dispositions, character and temperament, as\nwell as of those provided by circumstances, men and things on the one\nhand; and when she is obliged to struggle incessantly against herself\nand external obstacles on the other hand, the work of her salvation\nbecomes more difficult and less certain. In this deplorable\ncondition, the only pillar left her on which she can anchor her hopes\nof salvation is the mercy of God; but then a faithful correspondence\nwith divine grace in the most minute details, constant and\npersevering prayer to obtain strength to bear the trials of life with\nprofit, are positively necessary conditions to escape destruction.\n\nCommencing her career, woman finds for the most part only two roads\nthat dispute the choice of her adoption. Estranged, generally\nspeaking, to the professional life, or at least, acting in it only a\nsecondary role, she scarcely gives it a serious thought; she can\ntherefore give all due deliberation to her choice between marriage\nand celibacy.\n\nIf all were bound to choose the more perfect state, considered in\nitself, the question would be easily settled, as in that case there\nwould be, properly speaking, no choice to make; for evidently it is\nthe celibate state of life that should be adopted, since it is a more\nperfect state than that of marriage; and the church, maintaining the\ndoctrine of the Apostle on this point, has condemned as heretics\nthose who teach that the married state is as perfect as that of\nvirginity. But, if all should aspire to perfection, if all are free\nto choose the kind of life that will better insure the attaining of\nthat perfection, then all are not obliged to embrace the celibate\nstate, since our perfection consists in doing God's will.\n\nWhen you are about to make a choice of a state of life, you are not\nonly permitted, but even urged, to take into consideration your\ndispositions and aptitudes for the state which you propose to\nembrace; and, if they are in good accord with it, you may safely\nconjecture that they were given you for that state of life. Your\nimperative duty consists in distinguishing between the call given by\nGod and the voice of passion or prejudice. Hence you should promptly\nand faithfully follow the attractions and dispositions that God has\ngiven you, and nothing else.\n\nIf for instance, a woman made her choice with a view of pandering to\nher vanity, curiosity, worldly love, or some other passion still more\nculpable perhaps, God would have no part in her determinations, and\nshe would inevitably become the dupe of her own folly; for God gives\nlight only to such as are sincere in their search for it, and they\nwho look for it in this way are such as those, who, in examining the\nquestion of their vocation, have chiefly in view the glory of God and\ntheir own salvation.\n\nIf the natural dispositions should be taken into consideration, it\nis not indeed with a view to flatter nature and avoid the struggles\nincident to the Christian life. That would be renouncing the glorious\ntitle of Christian, and the incomparable favor that God has conferred\nupon us in creating us to live with Him forever. If it is useful to\nconsult our taste and aptitude it is because they are for the most\npart indicative of God's will; hence we ought to employ them for the\npurpose for which He gave them to us. Then the object of your\nresearches in this matter should be to discover God's will in that\nstate of life for which He has given you a pronounced taste and\naptitude; but, because the caprice of nature or character may\nsometimes be taken for that taste and aptitude, you are not\naltogether safe from deception without some other guarantee.\n\nIt frequently happens that man believes to be an inspiration from\nGod what is only the effect of badly-regulated passion or some bad\nhabit deeply rooted in the soul. In order to be sure that God has\ngiven such a disposition or aptitude of the heart and mind as being\nindicative of the state of life He would have us enter, it should be\npossessed of the following conditions, namely: The sanction of time,\nwhich is the instrument that God ordinarily employs to stamp the\nimpress of His will on the works that He operates in us. It is\nnecessary that this disposition has been constant, that is to say,\nthat it has not suffered from frequent or long interruptions. A\ntransitory taste appearing to-day and vanishing to-morrow, a volatile\ninclination frequently appearing and just as frequently disappearing,\nmerits no consideration in an affair that involves the Christian's\nhappiness both for time and eternity.\n\nHowever, if the aptitude which you feel in your soul for a given\nstate of life has lost much of its vivacity, or even when it should\nhave frequently vanished in the course of your life; you are in duty\nbound to study the causes and circumstances of this change,\nespecially when, with the disappearence of that inclination, piety\nand fervor in God's service have also diminished in the soul.\n\nIf, as often as you felt the sweet impulse of divine grace in prayer\nand holy communion this inclination became also aroused in the soul;\nif you felt it increase in proportion as you gave yourself to God,\nyou may safely conclude that it is the indicator of God's will in\nyour regard, and that its vascillating or enfeebled condition was the\nwork of your own perverse will. Hence, in order to ascertain whether\nthe natural inclination or aptitude you feel for any state of life is\nfrom God or the effect of a deluded fancy, you need but compare your\nnatural aptitude with those you have received through divine grace;\nand if you find them in perfect accord you may rest assured that they\nare from God, for He is the author of nature as well as of grace. On\nthe contrary, should they disagree then you may safely conclude that\nyour natural desire or inclination is a delusion.\n\nThis last consideration should not be omitted, especially when there\nis question of embracing the religious life; for the attraction by\nwhich we feel ourselves drawn to a more perfect life is in itself a\ngift of God, and one of His most precious gifts. As often as this\nattraction reveals its presence in the heart, it singularly involves\nthe study of vocation. Hence, it is a most delicate and perilous\nmatter to deal with, for if this attraction comes from God and if the\nsoul repels it she prepares for herself lamentable delusions, and a\nlife fraught with bitterness and remorse. God has a reason for\nfrequently saying in the Sacred Scriptures that He is a jealous God,\nand the church, for the same reason, addresses Jesus in the litanies,\n_jealous of souls_.\n\nHence, after having shown the greatest preference for a soul, in\nhonoring her with the exalted dignity of being His spouse, adorning\nher with the gorgeous splendor of His richest treasures, and then see\nHimself basely rejected, or treated with cold indifference; His\ndivine justice should naturally revenge the insult; which is done by\ndelivering her into her own hands, the most cruel punishment that\ncould be inflicted on her.\n\nHowever, if you feel an attraction for the religious life, it, would\nbe imprudent and rash on your part to decide the matter yourself. You\nshould, in the spirit of humility, after having consulted God by\nprayer, consult some enlightened persons noted for their wisdom and\nprudence, piety and learning, who will advise you with a view to\nsecure the spiritual welfare of your soul above all things. Should\nthose to whom you address yourself fail to give all the assurance you\nshould have, be not backward in consulting others; for unlimited\nconfidence in the words of any man, no matter who he may be, will not\ndispense you from all responsibility before God, nor preserve you\nfrom making a wrong choice.\n\nNeither should you lose sight of, or derogate in the least, from the\nrespect and obedience you owe your parents. It is their sacred duty\nand right to advise you; and to whom should you look for a more\ndisinterested advice? A young girl would indeed be an object of pity\nif, instead of finding a truly Christian tenderness in her parents,\nthey would be her idolizers so far as to be blinded to her true\ninterests. It is for this blind and foolish love that many parents\nsacrifice their children, either by ignoring their just claims to\nembrace the religious life, or by opposing an advantageous marriage\nthrough vanity or personal interest.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII.\n\n\nA SERIOUS MIND.\n\nA vast number of people unfortunately labor under the false\nimpression that woman's great work and duty consists in making her\ncompany agreeable and pleasing to all. This error is most prejudicial\nto woman; it is opposed to the teachings of religion and the Holy\nScriptures; and nevertheless it is only too true that a countless\nnumber of women have sedulously labored for its propagation, or, at\nleast, they have proved by their actions that this is their\n_only_ work; and in many places, to the great detriment of\nsociety, the education of girls has been directed in a great measure\naccording to this false opinion.\n\nThey are taught to esteem graceful manners, elegance of deportment,\nflashy humor, affability of character, and unlimited condescension as\nbeing the elements of a finished education; and the precious days of\nchildhood with the more precious time of adolescence have been\nentirely absorbed to acquire it.\n\nThis is the school that has given birth to what is called \"_Arts\nof Pleasure_,\" to which it sacrifices the knowledge of more\nnecessary things which instruct the mind, fortify the heart, and\ninvigorate the will. Our compassion and disgust are simultaneously\naroused, when we see so many women whose education has given them no\nother knowledge than to teach them how to flatter the taste of others\nat the expense of Christian modesty.\n\nHow many women there are who, from their youth, have renounced the\ndignity and glorious privileges of their sex, calmly resigning\nthemselves to play the inferior and humiliating role that the\nprejudices and passions of a frivolous society impose upon them!\n\nIt is our heart-felt desire that you may never experience anything\nof the kind; suffer not the aureola with which God has decorated your\nbrow to be ruthlessly removed and trampled under foot. Remember that\nyour soul is just as noble as that of man; that it is illuminated by\nthe same faith, drawn towards heaven by the same hopes, and united to\nthe same Author of all greatness and of all life by the same charity.\nShould your belief in this waver, transport yourself in spirit to\nCalvary: there you will see that women were the only sympathizers of\nJesus, and, while hanging on the cross, women were, with the\nexception of St. John, the only witnesses of His death.\n\nThe apostles and disciples, all had fled; and in this memorable\nscene in which all things seem to be confounded courage and valor\nseemed to have taken refuge in the soul of women. Hence the Church\nrecords, with love and gratitude, on the brightest pages of her\nhistory, this noble and generous act of devotedness as being the\nspecial privilege of your sex, since it was won on the ever-memorable\nday of our redemption.\n\nIt is not easy to look a painful truth in the face; but we are\nforced to do so when we reluctantly confess that female frivolity is\nthe source of that levity which prevails now-a-days, to such an\nextent as to affect the very laws and government of society. To keep\naloof from this poisonous atmosphere, you must cultivate that serious\nturn of mind, that gravity which gives women an air of majesty, and\nwins the homage of those who do not even understand her.\n\nExperience will teach you that the importance attached to the\nseriousness with which woman's life should be enveloped is\nundervalued. Learn to appreciate it as it merits; show that\nappreciation by now giving to all the actions of your life that\nweight and gravity which shall render them agreeable to God.\n\nTo succeed in your good resolution great firmness is required; you\nwill be obliged to condemn the frivolity of young persons in whose\ncompany circumstances may throw you. You must set your face against\nthe fashions of the world, against the force of habit and prejudice,\nperhaps against the freaks of your own character. But remember that\nthe reward awaiting you is well worth the struggle you are asked to\nsustain; and this struggle will not be so difficult as you may think,\nif you face it courageously, coherently and perseveringly, employing,\nof course, the proper means.\n\nTo begin, you should cast overboard that inclination to frivolity\nwherever you meet with it. But since a bad plant is more quickly and\nradically destroyed by pulling it out of the roots than by simply\nlopping of the tops as they appear over ground, so do we likewise\nsucceed better in correcting a bad habit, or destroying an evil\ninclination by attacking it at its source than by being satisfied\nwith arresting its bad effects, allowing the cause to remain. And\nsince it is in the mind that frivolity takes up its abode, it is\nthere that it must be sought for and destroyed.\n\nThere exists among the different faculties of the soul a certain\norder, a species of hierarchy which gives a certain preponderance to\nsome of them over the others; consequently some of them are of an\ninferior while others are of a superior order. You will labor in vain\nto give a serious cast to your sentiments and actions if you feed\nyour mind on frivolous thoughts, while serious thoughts are the\nprogenitors of enduring affections and noble deeds. Hence the culture\nof the mind is an important factor to the acquisition of a taste for\nthose things which are the true ornament of woman. Sentiments are the\noutcomings of thoughts, and both together are expressed by actions.\n\nFeed your intelligence with serious thoughts; never amuse it with\nthose trifles which absorb the attention of persons of your age. Do\nnot think that those serious thoughts badly become your youth; that\nthey would deprive you of a part of your comfort, rendering you\nwearisome to others and insupportable to yourself; that they would\ngive you a pedantic and affected air which would lead others to\nbelieve that you despised them; that every age has its peculiar\ntastes and customs, and that it would be an act of uncalled-for\nseverity to exact from a young person just beginning, so to say, the\napprenticeship of life, a gravity of manners and dispositions that\nwould scarcely be required at a maturer age.\n\nSeriousness is required in all ages, but not always in the same\ndegree. Thus the gravity befitting a young lady is very different\nfrom that expected from a woman more advanced in years. This virtue,\nfar from excluding legitimate amusement and pleasure, only regulates\nand elevates them by confining them to just limits. An agreeable and\nlively turn may be given to the most serious things, rendering them\npleasing and acceptable to the minds of all.\n\nTruth is never subtle, and never darkens the soul in which it\nresides; on the contrary, it sheds a halo of light around her,\nrevealing all those interior movements which lend a sweet and amiable\ncharm to every action.\n\nYou would be the first to condemn the doctrine of those who maintain\nthat woman must be of a frivolous turn of mind in order to be\nagreeable. You would justly regard, as an outrage to your sex, such\nassertions as go to show that seriousness can have no place in the\nmind of woman. Such being the case, you will not say, with many of\nyour age, that the time will come soon enough to feed your soul with\nsolid substantial food; and that the age of serious thoughts will\ncome only too soon; nor will you close your eyes to the fact, taught\nby long experience, that every one must reap in riper years such\nfruit as they had sown in youth. If you wait till then, it will be\ntoo late for you to enter another groove and form new habits. If you\nare now frivolous in your thoughts and sentiments you will be so\nlater; for, as age fortifies the tastes and inclinations, frivolity\nmust increase as you advance in years.\n\nPerhaps facts of this nature have already fallen under your notice;\nyou must have met with old ladies whose levity so painfully contrasts\nwith the gravity that becomes their age; and, while it is not\npermitted us to judge others, yet every good Christian must be\nshocked at this contrast. Profit by their example, sad as it is, and\nhasten to conclude that it is folly to defer to a future time what\ncan and should be done at present; and that defects, as well as\nvirtue, are fortified by time and habit. If your early education has\nnot been truly Christian, if the teachings of divine faith have not\nyet rendered you familiar with the most serious things of life, you\nmight perhaps consider as difficult, or even impracticable, the\ncounsels that I give you now.\n\nIs there anything more serious or more in opposition to our natural\ninclinations, and at the same time less consistent with the\ndeplorable levity of our minds, than the truths of our holy religion?\nFor serious, indeed, must be the reflections that those truths\ninspire, which you should now learn to meditate seriously, in order\nto make them a life-long practice. Is it not a serious occupation of\nthe mind to think of God, of the salvation of your soul, the\nbriefness of life, eternity which follows it, the duties that\nreligion imposes upon you? Is it not a serious occupation to address\nGod in holy prayer, to descend into the secret folds of your\nconscience, and examine all your actions in the light of the gospel;\nto reveal in all your works the sacred character that you have\nreceived in baptism; to lead a life according to the spirit of faith,\nand not according to the spirit of the world-for, if there is no\ndifference between your conduct and that of worldlings, to what\npurpose will the title of Christian avail you? All this is a serious\nwork, and requires a serious mind to accomplish it.\n\nThe practice of Christian virtues supposes and develops at the same\ntime the love of seriousness. This love does not increase in a\nsuperficial soul; while it is entirely sterile in a frivolous mind.\nRemember that you have now attained the age between childhood and\nwomanhood, when it is no longer lawful to be amused by trifles, and\nwhen you are called upon to prepare for austere duties which you\nmust, ere long, discharge.\n\nYou have now come to that period of life at which you must determine\nyour final future course; hence you have need of a serious mind and\nwill to guide you securely in the choice of the road, as also to pave\nit with those virtues which in the end will form your most precious\ntreasures. This road will be such as you have made it, narrow or\nwide, level or rough, according to the pains and labor that you have\nexpended in preparing it.\n\nIf you hearken to the voice of reason, and wish to profit by the\nlessons of wisdom, you will not squander a most precious time in vain\namusements; you will neither step to the right nor to the left, but\ncontinue right on in the way of stern duty. The world's siren charms\nwill have no attraction for you, as their bitter fruits would extort\nfrom you bitter regrets for having so little profited by the most\nprecious time of your life.\n\nOh, how sorrowful the old age of women who have never nourished\ntheir minds otherwise than with frivolous thoughts: finding neither\nin themselves nor in society any means to dispel the gloom that\nenvelops them, and not being able to enlist the sympathy of the world\nwhich abandons and despises them, they are condemned to eke out a\nmiserable existence in the disgust and wearisomeness of a sombre\nsolitude.\n\nTo a serious woman, on the contrary, old age lends a peculiar charm\nwhich renders her company agreeable to, and sought for, by all\nserious minds. Her conversation and manners still possess all the\nblitheness, freshness and vivacity of youth. Her steady lightsome\ngaze, tempered by a benignant and reflective mind, lends her an air\nof amiability and majesty. Her language is instructive, her counsels\nencouraging, while her reproaches arouse the heart to a sense of\nduty. She has friends wherever she is known, friends who revere and\nrespect, without idolizing her. In her youth she never pandered to\nflattery, now, old, she shall not experience ingratitude. The friends\nshe earned by her sterling worth will recall to her mind the happy\nsouvenirs of her youth, even up to the last days of her life; for her\nyears bear with them all their primitive charms which can never\ndecline under the influence of time, because the thoughts and\naffections that produced and preserved them are now what they were,\nsolid and grave. And while the companions of her youth languish and\nfret in their sad isolation, she, always the same, sees herself\nsurrounded by a multitude, anxious to profit by her experience.\n\nIf you have learned to be serious in youth, you shall enjoy an\nagreeable old age; but if the former be stamped with levity and\nfrivolity, the latter shall be fraught with sorrow and desolation. Do\nnot count on the charms of youth, it is a flower that shall very soon\nfade, and like a bird on the wing, shall leave no trace behind it.\nThe lustre of your eyes now beaming delight shall soon grow dull; the\nbloom shall depart from your cheek; the bright hopes that now fill\nyour soul shall give place to sad souvenirs; and your heart which is\nnow the abode of delight shall then be harrowed with sorrow and woe.\nTo-day you are flattered and praised, then you shall be a castaway,\nabandoned. All that will remain to you is God and your soul, with\nwhom you had never learned to converse or commune. Oh, sad, indeed,\nis the old age of a frivolous youth!\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV.\n\n\nCHOICE OP COMPANIONS.\n\nSince a predisposition to good and evil is found among persons of\nall classes and ages; and as this predisposition is especially strong\nat your age, when the sympathies are most tender, when the heart so\ncandid and open is ready to receive and reciprocate those secret\nemanations that escape from the souls of loved ones; you require to\ntake more than ordinary precautions, since the danger to which these\ncircumstances expose you is indeed very great, and requires a\nprudence superior to your years,--you must therefore look for it in\nthe advice of others, but more especially in that of your mother who\nshould be your first adviser in all things.\n\nHow many women owe to the examples and deceptive lessons of a so-\ncalled friend, the bitterness that corrodes their hearts, and the\nremorse which perhaps torments their life! We pass over in silence\nthose societies the evident danger of which is easily perceived, and\non that account easily averted; but you have not the same guarantee\nagainst the noxious effects which arise from those relations whose\nunion is found in the most frivolous instincts of the heart, to which\naccess is gained by the feeblest faculties of the soul. What is it\nthat is most commonly found in those intimacies, if not thoughts\nwithout consistency, vain hopes, precocious or impatient desires,\nindiscreet confidence, imprudent language, rash questions and answers\nrasher still?\n\nAs a general rule, any society or company from which you derive no\nbenefit for head or heart is, if not dangerous, at least pernicious;\nand you ought to shun them unless that imperative reasons or the will\nof your parents advise otherwise; for all that tends to diminish your\nesteem for the value of time and for the love of serious things is\nprejudicial to your soul. You should prefer your mother's company to\nthat of all others. Her life should be as a book constantly open\nbefore you; her lessons and examples, her experience and counsels\nshould be an inexhaustible mine of instruction, useful and precious\nto your soul.\n\nThe young lady is indeed an object of compassion who feels her\nmother's company irksome and onerous. At your age the heart is\nconfiding and effusive, and it needs some bosom in which to repose\nits confidence; for it would be subjecting it to an ordeal too rude,\nand exposing it perhaps to a fatal reaction, by completely depriving\nit of consolations derived from acquaintances approved by every law,\nhuman and divine. It should be treated with moderation, founded on\nprudence, as undue severity renders its desires and needs more\nimperative.\n\nBut if it is dangerous to restrict the heart to silence and inaction\nit is much more dangerous to feed it on frivolous affections. There\nis nothing that exhausts its energies so much as an over-indulgence\nin those puerile sentiments fed by the imagination. Those sentiments\ncreate within it a void which nothing can fill, and destroy its love\nfor everything that is noble and generous.\n\nA frivolous heart is not less disastrous to woman than is a\nfrivolous mind. How many women find themselves disarmed and powerless\nin important circumstances of life, for having neglected in youth the\ntraining of the heart's affections! How many are unequal to the task\nof discharging a painful duty, because they were wont to seek their\npleasure in all they did from early childhood! How many who, spite of\nthe chastisement of adversity and deception incurred by their\nidolizing preference for their levity and affections, still remain\nthe dupes of their blind attachment even in their old age! Your\nesteem for your own heart, and appreciation for its affections,\nshould be highly noteworthy, and deeply graven in your mind by the\nconstant habit of prizing them.\n\nWhen you feel an attraction for a young person of your own age, do\nnot blindly obey it, before having maturely studied its nature and\nmotives. We should always act for a purpose worthy of ourselves, but\nmore especially so when there is question of delivering ourselves\nover to the confidence and friendship of others; for in this mutual\nexchange we dispose of the greater part of our being. In this\nintimate relation, which is formed insensibly by repeated interviews,\nthere is formed a reciprocal discernment that exercises a powerful\ninfluence over all the faculties of the soul, the convictions of the\nminds, the sentiments of the heart, the habits of character, and\noften even over the general deportment.\n\nThe good sense of our fathers has expressed this truth by one of\nthose proverbs so familiar to them: \"_Tell me your company and I\nknow who you are._\" Of course you have frequently heard those\nwords, and knowing their meaning withal, perhaps you have not\nconsidered the circumstances wherein they may be applied. We\nearnestly wish that they may never be employed relative to you, at\nthe expense of the joy of your heart or the peace of your conscience.\n\nYou should use much discretion in the choice that you make of the\nperson with whom you would form an intimate acquaintance; for such an\nintimacy is not only founded on a mutual confidence, and reciprocal\naffections; it is also the result which follows from being frequently\nin each other's company. This latter intimacy is more dangerous than\nthe former because the heart, not thinking itself interested, is less\nupon its guard, and consequently more exposed to suffer from the\npoison concealed in words and examples.\n\nBe assured of the nature of the attraction you feel. See if it is\nfounded upon solid qualities, capable of making an impression upon an\nupright and serious mind, or upon those superficial qualities which\nthe world esteems, and which allure volatile minds. In the latter\ncase, you cannot, without danger, engage in relations; the inevitable\neffect of which must be either to fortify your present defects, or\nadd to them others which you have not at present. If your love for\nany one be founded on trivial motives, and if you dispense yourself\nfrom the obligation of restraining your affections, let me entreat\nyou to take at least all the precautions that prudence requires to\nprevent you from becoming the dupe of a foolish fondness. But if your\naffections are founded on sympathy of character, on a concurrence of\nholy thoughts and sentiments, with a view to strengthen the love and\npractice of virtue; then the attainment of their object is highly\ncommendable and praiseworthy; and you may justly hope to secure the\nhappiest results from it. But even then, you should be on your guard\nagainst your own judgment, placing a certain restraint on your\nsentiments of confidence and love, or friendship, which, in order to\nbe lasting, must be calm, devoid of that impetuosity which acts\nviolently on the heart. It should be the work of time, shedding its\nsweet influence on the duties of life, rendering their accomplishment\nless laborious and more fruitful.\n\nThose who love each other with a sincere Christian affection,\nwillingly sacrifice to duty the pleasure of being together, or rather\ntheir great pleasure consists in doing God's will; with noble courage\nthey rise superior to all other considerations, and mutually inspire\neach other with a holy zeal, imposing silence upon the voice of their\naffections, in presence of the voice of their conscience.\n\nSuch is the manner in which persons should love each other; such are\nthe affections that God blesses and rewards. You are deeply indebted\nto Divine Providence if it has sent you one whom you can love in this\nway, for this is one of the most precious gifts of God's mercy. It is\nespecially at your age that such friendships are most easily formed,\nbecause then the heart is more tender and confiding. How many women\nowe, in a great measure, their peace of mind and conscience to the\ngood advice and protecting influence of a friend whom they met with\nin the springtime of life.\n\nThere are in woman's life many delicate and trying circumstances\nthat demand the intervention of a sincere friend, to direct and\nsustain her, when the light of conscience becomes obscured or\nextinct; when the energies of the heart succumb to the allurements of\npleasure; when the mind, embarrassed by doubt and perplexity, can\nscarcely distinguish the line of duty, semi-obliterated by prejudice\nand passion; happy, then, is the woman who can call upon a faithful\nand tried friend, to whom she can confide the secrets of her heart,\nand from whom she may hope to receive the help and consolation that\nher condition calls for.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV.\n\n\nTOILET.\n\nAn undue attention to toilet is a dangerous rock for many women who,\notherwise remarkable for their grave deportment, are sometimes\ngreater slaves than the most frivolous women to dress and fashion. It\nis truly a great misery to be taken up with undue solicitude for the\nfragile and perishable part of our being; but more especially so,\nwhen such preference is given it by minds which are otherwise noble\nand elevated. It is painful to be obliged to confess that many women\nof high and cultivated attainments spend a considerable portion of\ntheir life in this futile occupation. It seems incredible that a\nribbon-knot, the color of a robe, or the form of a head-dress, could\nbecome a capital matter for an intelligent creature destined to\ncontemplate with the angels of heaven the majesty of God.\n\nIf there are so few women who enjoy all the advantages of their\nhappy dispositions and attainments, it is because of their inordinate\nlove for toilet and fashion; for nothing narrows the mind or\ncontracts the heart so much as excessive care of the body. When they\nneglect the soul, the noblest part of man, she revenges herself of\nthe insult by concealing all her brilliant qualities, which alone\nconstitute woman's true beauty and adornment.\n\nIt is impossible for a vain or gaudy woman to converse on any\nserious matter, but she will talk for whole hours on the form or\nquality of a dress; should the conversation happen to turn on a\nserious subject, capable of engaging the attention of an elevated\nmind, her countenance will soon betray a sense of dissatisfaction and\nweariness.\n\nGive befitting attention to the care of your body, because it is the\ntemple of God, who has deposited therein a precious germ of\nimmortality. But at the same time, keep it in its own place; and\nsince it is the inferior part of your being do not allow it to\ninfringe upon the rights and privileges of the soul, whose docile and\nobedient servant it should be. Avoid in your toilet all that savors\nof frivolity, which betray a desire to attract attention; but above\nall; avoid every thing that might in the least wound modesty. Do not\nforget that this virtue is one of the most beautiful ornaments of\nyour sex, and that when woman is deprived of it she is like a faded\nflower, without eclat or perfume. You should conform to the customs\nof your country and condition without being in any way their slave,\nremembering that your soul is at all times in duty bound to soar\nabove all those futilities, and conserve by a noble independence, her\nglory and her majesty.\n\nDo not follow the example of those women who, slaves of the world,\nobey with blind docility all its caprices; seeking with avidity\nwhatever is novel, in order to be the first in the _fashion_,\nand acquire by that, the vain reputation of a woman of good taste.\nThose who believe themselves obliged to have recourse to the\nseductions of fashion and dress in order to attract the attention of\ntheir would-be admirers, give a sad manifestation of the emptiness of\ntheir minds and the depravity of their hearts. Those who are\ndistinguished for their noble qualities of head and heart attach\ntheir hopes, to loftier claims; by their modesty and reserve they are\npleasing to all, and the sentiments which they inspire, being always\nnoble and pure, never give the slightest annoyance to any one; on the\ncontrary they arouse the holiest and most generous instincts of the\nsoul.\n\nOne of the sweetest charms that adorns your age is that which arises\nfrom its simplicity and candor. The world itself, so liberal in its\njudgments, will not pardon in you whatever savors of egotism and\nostentation. In these and similar things it will avail you naught to\noffer for excuse custom and usage, behind which so many aged women\ntry to take refuge. Profit, then, by the truce which the world in a\nmeasure concedes in favor of your modesty, to acquire the habit of\nsimplicity in your dress and whole exterior. This simplicity, once\nacquired, will be your guarantee, later on, against the examples and\nseductions of the fashionable world, which shows as little deference\nfor the laws of good taste as for those of Christian modesty.\n\nThe beautiful and good are never in contradiction with each other.\nThe same is true of what are perverse and depraved. And this is why\nthe depravity of taste is in keeping with the standard of a people's\nmoral life. Be assured that there is nothing beautiful except what is\ntrue and good; and that there is neither truth nor goodness in things\ndevoid of simplicity. If you regulate your dress and whole exterior\nbearing according to these two principles you will stand\nirreproachable to your own conscience, and secure the respect and\nadmiration of the most exacting worldlings, for simplicity of dress\nand manners possesses charms that win universal approbation.\n\nNever lose sight of your glorious title of Christian. Remember that\non the day of your baptism you renounced the pomps and vanities of\nthe world, and, if you are allowed to conform to customs not contrary\nto the maxims of the Gospel, you ought at the same time manifest in\nyour dress, as in the rest, the glorious character that God has\nstamped in your soul. You should show by your conduct the striking\ncontrast that exists between the Christian woman and the woman who,\nbeing incredulous or indifferent, does not draw her rule of life from\nthe precepts of the Gospel.\n\nYour dress should be grave and modest: these are the characteristic\nmarks by which it can be distinguished from that of women who are\nslaves of the world. St. Paul said to the Christians of his time:\n_Let your modesty appear to all men, for the Lord is near you!_\nWhat a profound lesson there is in these words, and how strongly they\nset forth the motives for which a Christian should be modest. To put\nin practice this counsel of the Apostle, you must accustom yourself\nto walk in the presence of God, representing to yourself by a lively\nfaith that God is near you, that He sees you and will demand a strict\naccount one day from you of all your actions. Frequently call to mind\nwhat St. Paul said to the Corinthians, namely: that _we are a\nspectacle to men and angels_. Let the true sense of those words\nsink deeply into your heart, and it will enable you to regulate soul\nand body.\n\nThe desire to attract attention, to draw the admiring gaze of fellow-\nbeings is a weakness that lurks in every human heart; but with woman\nit seems to be the main-spring to all her actions, which is kept in\nmotion alike by the applause and reproaches of spectators. In the\nlight of faith all this is folly and vanity; for in that light we\nbehold the whole court of heaven, God and His angels watching with an\ninterest full of tenderness and solicitude not only our exterior\nactions, but even the secret movements of our souls. Could we have a\nbetter or more appreciative audience to witness what we do? The very\nthought of their presence should inspire us with a disgust for those\nvain desires that urge us to see and be seen by mankind in order to\nsecure to our actions the approbation of the multitude. Regulate your\nconduct in this matter according to St. Paul's instruction to\nTimothy: _Let women be clothed in decent apparel, adorning\nthemselves with modesty and sobriety, not with platted hair, or gold\nor pearls, or costly attire. But, as it becometh women professing\ngodliness, with good works._\n\nMoreover, you labor under a great mistake if you think that\ngaudiness in dress is necessary to render you attractive and inspire\nthose sentiments of esteem and affection which sometimes prepare the\nway to an advantageous alliance. Should you succeed by this means in\nsecuring such a marriage, be assured that you deceive yourself; for\nthe man who, setting aside the qualities essential to woman, lets his\naffections be won by her outward charms only does her an injury, and\nprepares for her, as well as for himself, bitter regrets in the\nfuture. If you fully understand your true interest, both in this life\nand in the next, far from making your dress a means of attraction,\nyou would tremble to owe to such vile contrivances the affection\nbestowed on you. You would not compel by your vanity those who love\nyou for your own good to pander to your self-love and encourage your\nnegligence.\n\nThe sentiments that a woman awakens in the hearts of her admirers\ndraw their worth from the motives that inspire them, and this being\nthe case, what value shall you set upon affections determined by\nempty show, and flattered by qualities purely exterior, unworthy of\nthe attention of an intelligent being? Still, for some unaccountable\nor visionary reason, the greater part of women attach excessive\nimportance to such puerile advantages, and neglect those that are\ncapable of making a deep and lasting impression upon valiant and\nnoble souls. If they are much depreciated in the esteem of those by\nwhom they would like to be loved and admired, the cause may be traced\nto their own frivolity; let them labor with the same zeal to\ncultivate the heart and mind that they display upon external show,\nand they will more readily attract the attention of all who belong to\nrefined and educated society.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI.\n\n\nDESIRE TO PLEASE.\n\nAFTER having created man God saw that it was not good for him to be\nalone; and in order to console and cheer him in his solitude He took\nfrom his side, near his heart, the material out of which He made him\na companion. This origin of woman tells us more of her nature, and\npoints out more clearly the end that God proposed to Himself in\ncreating her than the most elaborate and profound treatises or the\nmost lucid theological theories.\n\nMan was made out of the slime of the earth, woman has been formed\nout of a body already organized and vivified by the breath of life;\nman has been created to reign over the world, to govern the animals\nwhich God placed under his control, woman has been created to be\nman's companion; to cheer him in his solitude, and share with him the\npower and gifts which he received from God.\n\nHence it is quite natural that woman should feel in the depths of\nher heart a gnawing desire to please and be agreeable, for in that\nshe only obeys the instinct of her nature. Still, woman would be\nabusing that instinct, and acting contrary to the designs of\nProvidence, if she sought to please by means unworthy of her.\n\nBefore plunging Adam into that mysterious sleep, God brought all the\nanimals before him, that he might see and know the extent of his\ndominion. The sacred writer remarks, that among all those animals\nAdam did not find a single being that resembled himself. He could\nfind in none of those animals a sociable companion, because none of\nthem had a soul like his, and consequently, could not share in the\nsweet joy that arises from an interchange of thoughts and sentiments,\nwhich constitutes the charming pith of life.\n\nMany of them surpassed him in bodily strength, fleetness and\nagility, many attracted his attention by the beauty of their form, by\ntheir wonderful instinct and industry. And God, through His unbounded\ngoodness, had planted in their very nature a desire or want of\nattachment, an instinctive gratitude and fidelity, such, that it\nseemed impossible to desire anything more exquisite of the kind.\nStill, with all these advantages, man was unsatisfied, he required a\nbeing like himself, possessing qualities superior to those found in\nirrational beings, one with whom his intelligence and heart might\ncommune.\n\nYou must have already penetrated the profound sense of the words of\nthe sacred historian and obtained a clear knowledge of the end that\nGod proposed to himself in creating woman. Yes, He has certainly\nwilled that you should be a messenger of consolation and comfort,\nthat your mission should be, not to please and flatter the senses,\nwhich the animals did for Adam before Eve was created, but to meet\nthe wants of the mind and heart of man.\n\nIrrational beings suffice to please the senses and imagination;\nhence, if this is all that you propose to do, you put yourself in\ncontradiction with the designs of God over you, and the grandeur of\nyour destiny. You seem to say to God that it was not necessary for\nHim to create woman, that man could dispense with her, because the\nanimals subject to his empire sufficed to meet all the wants of his\nmind and heart. Do not debase and despise your noble nature by thus\nplacing yourself in the same category with animals, which can have\nnothing in common with the duties of your sublime mission.\n\nThe senses are blind, impetuous and changeable in their instincts;\ninconstancy and change are so necessary to them, that, rather than be\ncondemned to remain immutable, they readily quit a more agreeable\nobject for another very inferior, simply to satisfy that need of\nchange inherent to their nature. Hence the strongest protestations,\nthe most assiduous attentions, and the most active devotedness,\nthough truly sincere in themselves, but when founded on the senses,\nare like smoke that disappears, even as the material that produces\nit. You will not have the right even to blame those who may deceive\nyou in this way, because it is not in the power of man to conserve\nfor any notable length of time a sentiment produced by the senses,\nand which has received no higher sanction than that of the imagination.\n\nThe difference, however, between this abortive sentiment and a\ngenuine one is so palpable and characteristic that it is impossible\nto be mistaken in them, unless that we wilfully close our eyes to the\ntruth. But, alas! it must indeed be confessed that a vast number of\nwomen wish to be deceived, not only in their discernment of the\nsentiment by which they are actuated, but also in their preference\nfor it. And through some unaccountable blindness, they fear every\nthing that might interfere with their cherished idol. They purposely\nshut their eyes to the light of truth, preferring to deceive and be\ndeceived than to be obliged, on seeing the matter in its true light,\nto doubt the power of their frivolous charms; as a proof of this the\nleast compliment paid them for their beautiful or handsome appearance\nputs them beside themselves so far as to make them forget to consider\nwhether such compliments are authorized by sincerity or flattery.\n\nIn vain will you try to convince them that this is not the way in\nwhich a genuine sentiment is formed and manifested. It is useless to\ntell them that such a sentiment does not spring up suddenly in the\nheart; that, on the contrary, its development is due to the process\nof a constant and almost insensible growth; being characteristically\nmodest, calm, reserved, and even timid; having God for its first\nconfidential friend, and pure souls for its tutors. It is labor in\nvain to point out to them that an affection, unaccompanied by the\nnecessary precautions, should be repelled by a young lady as an\ninsult to the dignity of her sex. But they will readily listen to any\nlanguage that flatters their vanity, which paves the way to so many\nfatal friendships that often entail a lifetime of woe and sorrow.\n\nWhen necessity or propriety requires your presence in society,\nsomewhat brilliant, where you must inevitably come in contact with\nyoung men whom perhaps you do not know; then you should guard the\nsenses, the mind and the heart with vigilant care; without ceasing on\nthat account to be simple and natural in your whole demeanor; for the\nmost vigilant are neither troubled nor embarrassed on account of\ntheir vigilance; yet excessive fear of being recreant either to duty\nor propriety in such like circumstances, would only expose you to\ngreater danger of falling into the snare you try to avoid, as it\nwould pre-occupy the mind and weaken the will. In such conjunctures,\nremain as near as possible to your mother, keeping your eyes fixed\nupon hers, always hearkening with a tender respect to the mysterious\nlanguage that escapes from the maternal heart; a language easily\nunderstood by a daughter that loves the virtue of filial piety.\n\nThe mother's presence is always an infallible protection for young\nladies; her looks are a book constantly open, and in which they can\nread her most secret thoughts; whether they approve or condemn their\nactions. Whenever you are called on to participate in worldly\nfestivities let your mother be your visible guardian angel; she will\npreserve the innocence of your heart from the dangers that surround\nyou. If you feel a secret desire to be relieved of your mother's\npresence, as being something noxious to your liberty, rest assured\nthat your heart has already lost something of its innocence and\nsimplicity. A daughter who dreads her mother's eye has evidently\nentered on a winding way, and ought to consider with suspicion the\nstate of her soul. There is no company that you should prefer to that\nof your mother, no conversation that you should esteem more than\nhers; there should be no pleasure that could engage you to forego the\npleasure of being near her. God himself has placed those sentiments\nin the hearts of young ladies in order to guard them against the\nseduction of the world and the attractions of false pleasures. He\nstrengthens in their soul the virtue of filial piety, which forms an\nimpregnable citadel around the heart, keeping it in perfect security\nagainst the evil influences of wicked agents.\n\nYour conduct in every detail ought to be discreet and grave in the\ncompany of young men with whom you are unacquainted. If they speak to\nyou, answer them briefly modestly and with simplicity, but\nfearlessly. Let it be your constant endeavor to converse on subjects\ncapable of interesting a serious mind; in this way you can better\ndivert their attention from frivolous topics, and prevent perhaps\nindiscreet questions or rash intimacies.\n\nIt is well to advert to the fact that, in consequence of a\ndeteriorated faith and virtue among young men, in whom a bad\neducation has oftentimes destroyed the happiest dispositions; many\namong them have lost that esteem, respect and veneration for woman so\nprevalent in the Christian ages prior to ours. Such, unfortunately,\nis the case in thousands of instances now-a-days; for when a young\nman finds himself in company with a young lady his chief object is to\namuse himself with her, if his heart, already vitiated, does not\nentertain desires more criminal still; he is unguarded in his\nconversation, while displaying his talents, complimenting her for\nqualities which he interiorly believes her devoid of.\n\nBear in mind that this young man with whom you are conversing\nwatches all your movements, studies all your looks, discusses and\ninterprets interiorly every word you speak; while treating with you\nhe plays the part of a cunning diplomatist whose wiles you happily\nignore; but in order to escape from becoming his dupe, prudence\nshould govern all your actions while in his company.\n\nRemember that there are in the world manners, gestures and attitudes\nthat constitute a conventional language, but which hold nothing in\ncommon with the genuine sentiments of the heart, being like a\ncounterfeit money which vanity pays and receives. It is one of the\nmost dangerous snares for a young girl whose simplicity and candor\nare yet intact. Those qualities, so precious in themselves, are\nsometimes prejudicial to her safety from the perfidy of a heart\nalready skilful in the art of deceiving. For, judging others by her\nown heart, she cannot suspect those who converse with her of wicked\ndesigns. She accepts all that is told her as the sincere expression\nof the heart, and very often receives for a genuine affection what is\nonly hypocrisy and deception.\n\nIf you are acquainted with the young men whom you meet in the world,\nyou should know how to treat with them; yet experience proves that\nfor the most part a young lady is little posted in matters of this\nnature. If the mind is already poisoned by the distemper of\nincredulity, if the heart is already vitiated, if they have justly\nwon by their evil conduct a sad notoriety in the world, if they are\nof that class that seek to take the advantage of woman's simplicity\nby rendering vice agreeable to her in their own person; oh, you\ncannot treat them with too great severity. Your language, your looks,\nyour attitude, should repel them from or command a respectful fear in\nyour presence. Do not fear to wound their feelings, or to be\nimpolite, or indecorous in their regard. An obstinate reserve, a\nsevere demeanor, is all that you owe them. Treating them with that\ncourtesy due to gentlemen would prove noxious to you, as they would\nnot fail to make of it a plausible reason to justify their insolent\nconduct and rash judgments; be not deceived, the slightest mark of\nbenevolence that they would receive from you would be immediately\ninterpreted by them in the most perfidious manner. They detest virtue\nas much as you detest vice. They have a sovereign contempt for every\nwoman, for they believe that she is unable to resist the allurements\nof pleasure.\n\nThey are mutual confidentials, and tell each other, with deplorable\nlevity, all that young ladies innocently say to them; wickedly\nmisconstruing their intentions, exaggerating what was true, and\ntreating with sneering contempt those who were simple enough to\nbelieve in the sincerity of their hypocritical compliments. Most\nassuredly you have not the slightest desire of becoming the subject\nof the scandalous conversation of those men; you have but one means,\nhowever, of guarding yourself against their venomous tongue; that is,\nto exact from them a respectful deference by the gravity of your\ndemeanor, and the severity of your relations with them.\n\nIf, on the contrary, you meet with young men who, with a lively\nfaith, have conserved the purity of their hearts, and as a\nconsequence of these virtues, all due respect for woman, you can show\nthem greater confidence, and let them feel that you highly esteem\nthem for their virtues, without, however, renouncing the precautions\nadvised by prudence while in their company. It is in such encounters\nthat your conversation should reveal a serious turn of mind,\ncarefully avoiding every thing that would intimate undue confidence\nor intimacy; for the heart of a young lady should never be on her\nlips; except with regard to her mother, she should keep it buried in\nthe depths of her soul to converse familiarly only with God and His\nangels.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII.\n\n\nCURIOSITY.\n\nCURIOSITY is a defect that seems to be particularly inherent to the\nheart of woman, and which, when not properly governed, never fails to\nentail the most disastrous consequences. Through it they have\nfrequently acquired a knowledge of evil and a disgust for virtue. You\nare well aware that curiosity was the door through which sin and\ndeath enter the world; that when the devil sought our destruction he\nmade use of woman's curiosity. Now, it is well not to lose sight of\nthe fact that woman is always the daughter of Eve. She feels a\npressing desire to see what pleases the mind, flatters the senses,\nand enlivens the imagination. Eager for vivid emotions, she seeks\nthem with an insatiable avidity; and, rather than feel nothing, she\nprefers painful emotions, finding a certain secret charm even in the\nfits of sorrow and pains of her imagination. Her great desire to see\nand hear whatever tends to excite or create emotion is in a great\nmeasure the source of her curiosity. The education that women for the\nmost part receive develops this disposition of the heart: an\neducation which, instead of elevating the mind and giving it a taste\nfor serious things, narrows it, and accustoms it to feed upon\naliments that are trivial and void of consistency. The mind requires\nto he kept in constant activity, and since thoughts alone can do this\nthey should be such as to amply furnish it with solid and wholesome\nfood, for all kinds of thoughts are not equally good for it, no more\nthan all kinds of food are equally good for the body. In some kinds\nof food the quantity and quality of nutriment are much inferior to\nwhat they are found to be in other kinds. Hence greater moderation is\nrequired in the use of the latter than in that of the former,\notherwise the stomach, overcharged, would soon become disgusted with\nit.\n\nOn the other hand, no quantity of food void of nutritious qualities\nwill ever appease hunger. The same thing may be said of the kind of\nthoughts with which the mind is fed; some are used less for their\nsound and wholesome nutriment than for their efficiency to flatter\nsensuality, inflame the passions, create new wants in the heart, and\nexcite a depraved curiosity. Under this regime the mind is starved\nand tortured by an incessant hunger. It sadly languishes and pines in\nthe grip of famine; and all this in the midst of full and plenty, but\nthis abundance contains no nutriment, it is made up of news, whether\ntrue or false, which amuses without satiating; still the mind enlists\nthe service of the senses to gather it up from all sides. The eyes,\ncontinually gaping and watching what passes before them, present the\nmind with numberless images to amuse it in its weary or lonesome\nmoments.\n\nHence that insatiable thirst to see and observe every thing, that\ninconstancy and want of changing from one place to another, that\ndesire to read useless and frivolous books, novels, weeklies and\nmagazines, which for the most part enervate the mind by their\nfutilities, trouble and darken it by a multitude of incoherent images\nand contradictory thoughts, and poison the heart by foul and filthy\nimages that will constantly torment the soul.\n\nThe ears are on the alert to catch every report, every murmur, all\nkinds of news, detractions and calumnies, stories and scandals. I say\nall kinds of news, no--I make a mistake, it is only such news as is\nof an exciting or startling nature to break up the monotony of life.\nHence those indiscreet questions which provoke answers more\nindiscreet still; those rash revelations made by thoughtless young\nladies, those prying efforts to discover things which only exist\nperhaps in their own imagination, and of which they should live in\nholy ignorance.\n\nHence those long conversations, discussing the vices and evil doings\nof others, in which justice and charity are discarded, and iniquity\ndrank like water. Few forego the criminal satisfaction of\nparticipating in those detestable conversations, and fewer still,\nalas! reproach themselves at night for the detractions and calumnies\ncommitted, permitted, or provoked during the day, and by a monstrous\nunion they couple with those deeds the external practices of piety.\n\nThis is but a feeble picture of the frightful condition of a mind\nstarved for want of solid and wholesome food, and poisoned by the\nempty frothings of vanity and passion. Curiosity is the constant\ncompanion of this mediocrity of the mind and poverty of the heart. In\norder to avoid this fatal rock, no pains should be spared, and if,\nunfortunately, you have already drank at its poisoned sources, hasten\nto use every available means to arrest its ravages. To insure\nsuccess, do not amuse yourself with lopping off the branches of the\nevil, allowing the root to remain, do at once what is essential: feed\nyour mind and heart with a genuine love for the true and beautiful.\n\nA frivolous woman is invariably curious, and a curious woman always\nfinishes by becoming the dupe and victim of her curiosity. To\novercome an inordinate love for sights and news you must accustom the\nmind's eye to feast on the panoramic beauties of nature, and confine\nyourself to the company of persons of your own age, in whom you\nremark an elevated mind and heart,--lovers of what is truly good and\ngrand.\n\nCuriosity has its source, also, in another defect which becomes\ndaily more and more prevalent--it is a want of forethought and\nreflection, arising from a volatile and frivolous mind. Few, indeed,\nare lovers of the interior life; all seem to be bent on parading the\nmind and heart, the imagination and senses. Now, when man has not\nlearned the art of living and conversing with himself, he becomes\nwearisome and sometimes dangerous to himself when alone; because the\nmind, not knowing how to occupy itself, and not finding in its own\nresources the thoughts that elevate and nourish it, is obliged, in\norder to avoid lonesomeness, to dwell upon images which at least\ndistract and weaken it, and not unfrequently disturb the peace of the\nheart.\n\nReligion, always inspired by God in the choice and formation of the\nterms which it employs to convey the ideas that it wishes to impress\nupon the heart, has invented two words, which admirably express the\nmeaning of the concentration of the faculties of the soul,--in other\nwords, that society or cohabitation of man with himself--they are\n_self-composure and recollection._\n\nThese words express that state or power of the will by which it\nholds complete control over all the faculties of the soul; so that\nsensibility can have no command over any of their operations. Thus\nshielded from this turbulent disturber they are enabled to labor\npeacefully and efficiently in their interior province or the soul.\n\nThe advantages secured by interior recollection are so great and the\nconsequence of its absence so prejudicial that the Holy Ghost\ndistinctly declares its absence to be the cause of all the evils that\ndesolate the earth. _\"With desolation is the earth laid desolate\nbecause there is no one who thinketh in his heart.\"_ This is a\nterrible truth, but it is not the less real on that account. To be\nconvinced of this you need only descend into your own heart, and you\nwill soon discover that the want of interior recollection has been\nthe cause of the most of your faults. It is during the interior\ncomposure of the soul's faculties that we understand what the Lord\nsays. _I will hear what the Lord God will speak in me, for he will\nspeak peace unto them that are converted to the heart._ (Psalm 84.)\n\nBut if we find nothing in the heart but trouble and obscurity we\nmust naturally find many pretexts to justify our preoccupation with\nexternal things; and like a man, finding his house the abode of pain\nand displeasure, remains away from it as long as possible, we, too,\nwill shun as far as possible the scene of our misery. It is,\ntherefore, of most vital importance for you to form in your own heart\nan agreeable and useful society with which you can always converse.\nThis society you carry with you wherever you go, for you are with\nyourself at all times; and since you have not always the satisfaction\nto enjoy the company of others you should learn how to turn to good\naccount this privation by making it an incentive to cultivate with\nindustry an agreeable society in your own heart; and the best way to\ninsure the success of this work is to accustom yourself to converse\nwith God who is always present in your heart, except when you expel\nhim by mortal sin.\n\nThe work itself must be made up of pious readings, meditation and\nprayer, which will furnish you with such thoughts and affections as\nwill prove to be constant friends in pain as in joy; hasten to amass\nthese honeyed treasures during the noon-tide of life; for the winter\nwill soon come upon you, the flowers of life shall lose their perfume\nand their withered corolla shall be strewn on the ground. Then you\nwill not have time to enrich the soul with the longed-for booty when\nyou will be reduced to the miserable condition of those women who\nendeavor to conceal the poverty of their mind and heart by a foolish\nand puerile deception.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII.\n\n\nMEDITATION AND REFLECTION.\n\nMeditation and reflection are two words that express two shades of\ndifference of the same idea. In meditation we consider supernatural\nthings pertaining to our eternal salvation. The soul maintains\nherself with difficulty in the love and practice of virtue without\nthe help derived from meditation; for when she gives it up, her\nfervor in piety grows lax, temptations became more frequent and\nobstinate, often followed by humiliating falls.\n\nYou are well aware that the real object of the Christian's life upon\nearth is to establish God's kingdom in our heart; and this is what\nforms the object of the second petition that we address to God every\nday in the Lord's prayer; and since the kingdom of God is entirely\ninterior, as Jesus Christ himself tells us, when He says: _the\nkingdom of God is within us,_ we should acquire the habit of\nlooking for God in our own heart; but in order to find Him there we\nmust give Him a place in it by meditation and prayer.\n\nThe advantages derived from meditation are so numerous and so great,\nthat it is a matter of surprise why it is not more universally\npractised; for the effects that it produces in the souls of those who\nare faithful to its practice are so striking that it is easy to\ndiscern a man given to this habit from those who are entire strangers\nto its holy influence. Meditation teaches us to know God and ourself;\nit lays open to us our faults and vices, their source and fatal\nconsequences and the arms we should employ to combat them. Finally,\nmeditation contributes most efficiently to form our minds and purify\nour hearts, to fortify the will and develop in us the habit of\nreflecting.\n\nThe knowledge of God and ourself is such an important factor in the\nwork of our spiritual perfection that St. Augustin constantly prayed\nfor it, saying: _\"Lord grant that I may know Thee and myself.\"_\nThe pagans themselves well understood the advantage of this most\nimportant science, even for the securing of the happiness of this\nlife; since they had the following words inscribed, as a summary of\nall human science, upon the frontispiece of the most celebrated\ntemple of Greece, _know thou thyself_. But, alas! this knowledge\nis as rare as it is necessary; with a mind absorbed by distractions,\nand a heart harassed by passions, we flee, so to speak, from God and\nfrom ourselves.\n\nWhere is the Christian that knows God? Do you presume that you know\nfull well what He is, what He has done for you, and what He still\ndoes for you every day? Every moment you receive His gifts: your life\nis due to His beneficence and His love, you are carried in the bosom\nof His providence as in the arms of your mother, He is continually\npreoccupied with your welfare, He has done all, created all things\nfor your comfort and happiness; for your sake he has become man, to\nparticipate in all the infirmities, weakness and miseries of our\nhumanity, in order to heal them and console us. Every thing speaks of\nHim, and proclaims His holy name to you. All that you see, all that\nyou hear and feel must recall to your mind some gift of His love, or\nsome effect of His mercy. All creatures in heaven and on earth are\nlike so many voices which, mingling in a harmonious concert, sing to\nyou His praises and publish His mercies.\n\nDo you listen to them? Do they not pass you unperceived like the\nflitting zephyrs' leaving no trace to mark their passage. Did you\never seriously try to render an account of the attributes of God, and\nparticularly of His goodness and justice? of His goodness to endear\nHim to all, and of His justice to make Him be feared by all. Have you\nconsidered well that to know God is to know all, because He is the\nAuthor of all creation possessing in Himself to an infinite degree\nall the perfections of His creation?\n\nHe who does not labor to obtain a knowledge of God can scarcely\nobtain any knowledge of himself. How is it possible for us to know\nwhat we are while we ignore what God is for us and what we owe Him?\nOh, how few there are who know themselves! The first condition\nnecessary to secure this knowledge, so important and so precious, is\nprofound humility, which unsparingly reveals the real motive of all\nour actions, the uncompromising antagonist of our pride and self-love.\n\nNow it is quite evident that he who does not know God does not\npossess this virtue; for how can a man humble himself before a being\nthat he ignores? At first sight it may seem that there is nothing so\neasy as to know one's self,--that this knowledge may be obtained by a\nclose consideration of the heart's operations; but when we give the\nmatter sufficient thought the work does not appear to be so easy. And\nthe number of those who have acquired this knowledge to any noted\ndegree is so limited that we are forced to infer that a knowledge so\nrare must offer great difficulties.\n\nHowever, there is one thing certain, namely: that this knowledge is\nnot obtained in the midst of tumult and pleasures, from the\nseductions of the world or the distractions of life. It is not by\nfleeing one's-self as we would fly an enemy; by concealing with a\ncomplaisant but perfidious veil our defects, to avoid being troubled\nby their appearance--always painful to pride; it is not by living a\ndreamy life of fiction to which the slaves of the world condemn\nthemselves with a deplorable obsequiousness; it is not by continually\ntrying to deceive ourselves and others that we may learn how to know\nourselves; and, just as our knowledge of material things increases by\nthe frequency of our relations with them--for instance we know\npersons better with whom we are intimately acquainted than those with\nwhom we are comparatively strangers--so, likewise, in order to know\nourselves well, we must live intimately with ourselves, observe\nclosely and impartially all the movements of our mind and heart,\nfrequently descending into the depth of our soul, scrupulously\nexamining our thoughts, desires and actions, sparing no pains to\ndiscern well their source and motives; this latter portion of the\nwork is, without doubt, the most difficult, since it is the point at\nwhich all the passions unite to deceive us by the most subtle\nillusions. The best actions are despoiled of their merit by certain\nmotives of vanity, often concealed from our own notice.\n\nThe motives by which we are actuated are, relative to our actions,\nwhat the eye is relative to our body,--it is the motive that gives\nlight and brilliancy to our actions. This is the sense in which we\nshould understand our Lord when He says if our eye be simple our\nwhole body will be luminous. Now the great light by which we can\nclearly see the motives for which we act is meditation.\n\nIn the peaceful calm of solitude, and in the silent slumber of the\npassions, meditation puts us in presence of ourselves, before our own\neyes, by which we see ourselves as in a true mirror. Meditation\nteaches us to judge without prejudice what we have done and to\ndetermine with propriety what we should do, by making the experience\nof the past our lamp for the future, and by converting past mistakes\ninto practical lessons for the present.\n\nThe meditative and recollected soul will turn even her shortcomings\nto good account; seeing her delinquencies, she clothes herself with\nthe mantle of humility, she rises with renewed confidence, and shuns\nwith greater care the occasion of those evils from which she has\nsuffered; she is rarely taken by surprise, a few moments' reflection\nwill suffice for her to determine what is to be done under the\ncircumstances; she is rarely taken in the snare of deception, for she\nknows that human nature is weak, vacillating and unreliable, and,\nconsequently, she keeps herself on her guard.\n\nConsidered from this point of view; meditation is particularly\nnecessary to woman, because, being endowed with a very lively\nimagination and a tender heart, she is more exposed to illusions\nwhich, for the most part, spring from those two sources. Moreover,\nsurrounded as she is, by the seductions of the world; breathing\nincessantly the poisoned atmosphere of flattery and adulation; waited\non by men who seek to deceive her; distracted by a multitude of cares\nwhich absorb her soul; lost in a painful detail of trifles; how will\nshe be able to resist the united action of those trials; if she has\nnot contracted the salutary habit of frequently conversing with her\nown heart by holy meditation and recollection?\n\nThe precious habit of meditation makes its influence felt by all the\nfaculties of the soul. It imparts to the mind the love of solitude,\nassurance and confidence to the judgment, consistency to all the\nthoughts. It is by reflecting on what we interiorly feel, as well as\non what we exteriorly see, that we enrich our intelligence and\nacquire that cheerful alacrity and firmness of purpose so necessary\nand precious in the most trying and delicate circumstances of life.\n\nA woman of an irreflective mind becomes an easy prey to her own\nimpressions; rarely ever seeing things in their true light she is\nballoted from one illusion to another, from one error to another; she\nbelieves in every thing, hopes for all that she desires, and desires\nall that flatters her. Unable to render an exact account either of\nthe thoughts of her mind or the movements of her heart, she acts\nwithout aim or motive, governed solely by the caprice of her\nimagination or the impulse of whimsical humor; equanimity is\nimpossible in the midst of such confusion. All this will have a fatal\neffect upon her spiritual welfare; for what shocked her some time ago\nwill now fail to make the slightest impression. The bloom of youth\nwill soon fade away, leaving to her only confused souvenirs of those\ndays when, to be happy, it sufficed for her to descend into her own\nsoul, where she always found peace and consolation.\n\nIf you wish to preserve in all their integrity the faculties of your\nsoul; if you would not have your life ruled by the caprice of the\nimagination; contract at an early age the salutary and happy custom\nof making your meditation. Set apart a special time for it every day,\nlet it be practical, having for its object the spiritual progress of\nyour soul, the sanctification of your life. Lay out in God's presence\nwhat you have to do every day, recall to mind the places, persons and\nthings that have been to you an occasion of sin, or a help in the\nexercise of virtue, in order to avoid the evil accruing from the one\nsource, and increase the influence arising from the other. Never\nrecline your head upon your pillow before having rendered an exact\naccount of the day you have just finished, like the merchant who,\nevery night, tots up his loss and gain, to see what has been the\nresult of the day's transactions. The next day, with the double\narmour of experience and resolve, you will be better able to avoid\nwhat proved noxious before, as well as to do the good that you had\nomitted. By thus acting you will give to your life a sure direction,\na powerful impetus in the accomplishment of all that is worthy of\nyour glorious destiny.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIX.\n\n\nOBEDIENCE TO PARENTS.\n\nIn the natural order of things, man, after having obeyed his parents\nin his youth, becomes in turn the head of another family which he\nmust govern by the authority of his word and example. God has given\nto woman another vocation. She obeys from her childhood, and\nobedience becomes more necessary to her as she advances in years; for\nwhen she quits the paternal roof for the one of her choice, it is\nstill to obey and be directed by the will of another. But in this\nsecond moiety of her life she often finds the practice of obedience\nmore difficult and painful than it was when she lived with her\nparents. More than once has the young woman, allured by the deceitful\ncharms of a false liberty, left with a secret joy the paternal roof,\nhoping thereby to be delivered from the duty of obedience which\nweighed so heavily on her heart. But, alas! she has often been\nobliged to regret those days as the happiest of her life, when the\ntender solicitude of a mother rendered submission sweet and easy.\n\nGod, whose Providence is infinitely wise, has disposed all things in\nsuch a way that each epoch of life is a preparation to that which\nfollows; strengthened by the labors of the past, we are fitted for\nthose of the future, and prepared for the accomplishment of the\nduties of to-day by our fidelity to obligations less difficult of\nyesterday; we are thus imperceptibly and safely conducted by this\ngraded scale to the end for which we were created.\n\nHence you may consider the present as your noviciate to the future;\nthe family circle at home is the image of that with which you must\nlive at a later time; and while your duties and trials will vary with\nyour position, there is one obligation that always remains\ninvariable; that is obedience. If you have learned well how to obey\nyour parents whom God has given you, you will find it easier in after\nlife to bend your will when obliged in submission to that of another.\n\nAt present holy obedience is not painful to you; on the contrary, it\nis a pleasure, as it is a means by which you can please your dear\nparents whom you love; and by force of habit it is now so deeply\nengraved in your heart as to be an act of second nature. But other\ntimes and other circumstances will present new difficulties, when\nperhaps you will be obliged to obey a man of your own age, possessed\nof none of those qualities that give authority and prestige to command.\n\nThe familiarity that exists between the married couple which, when\ntruly Christian, is one of the greatest charms of their life, not\nunfrequently becomes for woman an obstacle to the observance of\nobedience; but she has reason to rejoice when her delinquency does\nnot diminish the sacred authority of her husband's commands. The lady\nwho has been docile to the orders of her parents will be docile to\nthose of her husband; for as we are assured by Holy Writ, our\naccomplishment of the duties that God has imposed on us relative to\nour parents is rewarded even in this life; as likewise our\ndelinquencies on this point will incur heaven's displeasure.\n\nThe paternal home should be for you a school of respect, obedience,\ngratitude, and love; and these virtues should be constantly\nmanifested in your conduct; for, mark it well, you will be in the\nposition destined for you later by God what you are presently in that\nwhich you now occupy. There is a logical succession in all our\nactions, whether good or bad. In each one of your actions may be\nfound the germ of another which, being developed in due time, will\nproduce others. The same is also true of that happy or unfortunate\nsuccession of thoughts and affections which is developed into habit;\nand which is engrafted in our very souls, forming, as it were, an\nintegral part of our nature. From our infancy, God, in His infinite\ngoodness, has given us a facility to do good, which in the course of\ntime can be strengthened by habit; it will enable us to surmount\nobstacles and dangers that increase with age, but which are ignored\nin childhood.\n\nThe individual practice of respect, obedience, confidence; and\ngratitude is necessary for the preservation of society; and in order\nto render this practice easy for us, God, in loving goodness has\nremoved from those beautiful flowers of virtue, whose perfume should\nembalm our whole life, the thorns that might pierce us. He has\nconfided their care to those to whom, after God, we owe our life, and\ntowards whom we are drawn by an invincible inclination of the heart.\nWhen we merge into the noon-tide of life we find these virtues\nalready engrafted in our souls, with little trouble to us, for they\nwere planted there by the hands of good and pious parents; and, as a\nreward for our fidelity to their instructions, those cherished\nvirtues take deep root in the heart and grow imperceptibly as we\nadvance in years.\n\nBut if, instead of being docile to their orders, we have stubbornly\nresisted them, if, by some unaccountable egotism, the soul has become\nconcentrated in herself; and instead of giving our confidence and\nlove to those who have so generously given their life and means to\nsecure to us the happiness we enjoy, we rest satisfied with living on\nthe fruits of their labors without making them any return; we will\ncarry with us later on into the family of our choice only a withered\nheart, dead to every noble and generous sentiment.\n\nYou should respect and honor your parents with the filial love of a\nChristian daughter. Such is the precise meaning of the precept given\nyou by God in their regard: _Honor thy father and thy mother!_\nRelative to you they hold God's place, who is the source of all\npaternity in heaven and upon earth. Nothing can dispense you from\nthis respect which God requires for them, and which nature ought to\nrender easy to you; for, even when your parents would suffer by a\ncriminal negligence the image of God to be deteriorated in their\nsouls; they always remain His representatives for you, because they\nare always, no matter what they may do, the instruments that God\nemployed to give you existence.\n\nThe faults of your parents should never diminish in your heart the\nrespect and honor that you owe them; and in certain painful and\ndelicate circumstances, you should imitate the example of the two\nsons of Noah in order to escape the malediction that fell upon Cham\nfor his impudent strictures of his father's faults. You should\ncarefully draw the mantle of charity over any fault of your parents\nthat might tend to weaken your respect for them. Silence should seal\nyour lips forever on all their shortcomings, even before those who\nknow them, unless that it be to ask advice in some critical\nconjuncture, or bring them to receive some useful and charitable\ncounsel. God alone should be the depository of your sorrowful\nconfidence in this matter. To Him alone you should confide your\nsorrows and alarms, because He alone should hold the first place in\nyour mind and heart, for He will be your judge as well as theirs.\n\nIf you see that a salutary effect may be obtained by a prudent and\nrespectful observation, be slow in making it, and never act before\nhaving consulted some virtuous and enlightened persons; should they\nadvise you in the affirmative, let your observation assume the tone\nof a remonstration rather than a warning. Your language, actions or\ngestures should never savor of anything that betrayed a disregard for\nthat profound veneration with which you should honor in them the\ntitle of God's representatives in your regard. An unfortunate custom,\nthe fruit of a bad education, or of an excessive tenderness on the\npart of parents, has sadly vitiated the nature and form of the\nrelations that should exist between child and parent.\n\n\nDuring the present century in many places a fatal familiarity seems\nto have sapped the very foundation from that profound respect which\nwas the honor and glory of the Christian family, and the salt that\npreserves nations from corruption; that respect which children, who\ntruly feared God, paid to their parents. To that beautiful order that\nreigned in the Christian family, and which preserved inviolable the\nfather's authority in Christian times, has succeeded a spirit of\nequality as hostile to the natural order as to the order of Divine\nProvidence, since it destroys both rank and duty. It gives birth to\nthat false independence which may justly be called the seed of\nrevolution and anarchy; no consequence is more natural, for what can\nbe expected of a citizen who imbibed in his childhood, under the\npaternal roof, the spirit of disobedience and insubordination, who\nwas taught to regard superiority with a jealous eye, and treat with\ncontempt those who are beneath him.\n\nAfter paying due respect to your parents, they should be, after God,\nthe depositories of your confidence, and since a daughter's wants are\nmore easily communicated to her mother, it is in her mother's heart\nthat a Christian daughter will deposit the secrets of her own. This\nfilial confidence supposes, also, in a young lady a sincere\ndiffidence in her self, a consciousness of her own weakness which, so\nfar from being a fault, is the result of true humility. Those young\nladies who are wanting in confidence in their own mothers are indeed\ngreat objects of compassion. For this confidence is not only an\nessential condition to their advancement in virtue, but also one of\ntheir principal safeguards against deception and intrigue.\n\nThe heart of woman, especially at your age, feels an imperative need\nof making a confidant of some one, and if that one is not her mother,\nit will be some friend who, perhaps, will not possess greater\nexperience nor more wisdom or force than herself, and consequently,\ninstead of giving the proper counsel, will add evil to evil by the\nfatal help of encouragement in a course that should be abandoned.\nRest assured that you can never find any one able to fill the\nmother's place in this regard. This unreserved abandonment to a\nmother's confiding heart is not always possible, since death often\ninterferes. When such is the case it is a great misfortune for a\nyoung lady--a misfortune that can scarcely be retrieved in her\nlifetime. It is easy to recognise a woman whose soul has been\nfostered in that of her mother. Such women ordinarily possess a\nmilder disposition, a more amiable ingenuousness, with a certain\nsimplicity of heart which, without being prejudicial in the least to\nher mind, adds a new charm to the noble and generous virtues which\nbecome the mother of a family. Those habits of confidence and\nabandonment contracted from childhood have made frankness and\nsincerity second nature. Their love for truth and sincerity is\nrevealed in their conversation, the sanctity of which is the echo of\ntheir souls. Their whole demeanor sheds such a halo of delight around\nthem that they become, unpretentiously, the centre of attraction for\nall those whose enviable pleasure it is to be honored by their company.\n\nIf up to this hour you have concealed nothing from your mother; if\nyou have given her the key to your soul; if your heart is for her an\nopen book; if she can at all times read in your looks your very\nthoughts; on bended knees thank God from the depths of your soul for\nhaving given you such a mother, and the grace of giving her your\nconfidence. If you remain a child to your mother you will preserve\nyour youth through the toilsome days of life to a ripe old age, an\nadvantage so precious that nothing should be left undone to secure it.\n\nWoman is pleasing to others only in as much as she possesses this\nadornment, which exhales a sweet odor like the perfume of youth.\nAlas! how many women there are who have never been children even with\ntheir mothers. Women from their youth, they have treated their mother\nwith a kind of diffidence, dissembling at an age when the only danger\nto be feared should be an excessive confidence.\n\nAs for the gratitude and love that you owe your parents, I would\nregard it as an injury offered to the candor of your age and the\nsincerity of your heart to undertake to prove that these are\nobligations which you are in duty bound to discharge. God who has\ncommanded us to honor our parents, left us no precept obliging us to\nlove them; but while He engraved other commandments upon stone this\none He has written in the very essence of our being. Hence I appeal\nonly to your heart in this matter, leaving you entirely to its\ninstincts to point out to you your duty, which to assert by any other\nproof, I fear would lead you to suspect that there are children\nunnatural enough to forget and neglect their parents.\n\nBear in mind, however, that your love and gratitude for them must by\nno means be restricted to a sentiment of the heart or an instinct of\nnature. Those virtues must find an echo both in your words and\nactions. Love founded on sensibility has no signification, if you can\nmake no sacrifice to obey or please them. Love in man is effective,\nand this is why our Lord tells us with regard to the love we owe Him:\n_He who loves me keeps my commandments._\n\nTo love consists in pleasing him who is loved; it is prefering his\nwill to our own, his interests to ours; in a word, it is to seek him\nrather than attract him; it is to become his property rather than to\nappropriate him; it is to forget ourself to think of him. Love lives\nupon sacrifices; as the pious author of the Following of Christ says:\n_where love is, there is also pain: but love converts that pain\ninto pleasure._ If this be true of all the affections of the human\nheart; what shall we think of the one that we have first felt, and\nwhich in some way forms a part of our very nature?\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XX.\n\n\nMELANCHOLY.\n\nIt will perhaps seem strange to you to be warned in the bloom of\nyouth against a sentiment that seems to be reserved for that period\nof life when delinquents, through the infinite goodness of God, are\nbrought to enter into themselves; when the illusions of the heart\nhave been replaced by a cold and sad reality; when hope seems to\nrecoil under the weight of sad recollections. Still, because this\nmental canker preys on the most vital interests of the soul, and\nbecause a predisposition to it is found to prevail even among the\nyouthful portion of your sex, a certain knowledge of it is necessary\nin order to resist it effectually.\n\nIt is most delightful and consoling to find in persons of your age\nand sex that pure joy, so frank and candid, springing out of the\ninnocence and simplicity of the heart; a good conscience and a lively\nfaith, with unbounded confidence in Divine Providence; all of which\ncombine to produce that sweet and saintly cheerfulness which dilates\nthe heart and lights up the soul with its amiable reflections. But,\nalas! we confess with deep regret, that many young ladies have been\nruthlessly robbed of all those charms by a precocious development\nreceived under the world's tutorship, by which they have been made to\ncross with a bound the smiling season of hope and joy, to a premature\nold age before having tasted the charms of youth.\n\nIn order that joy may reign in the heart, the heart must first\nrepose in the bosom of Divine Providence--free from the pressure of\ndoleful souvenirs, and from the pestering desires stirred up by\nvanity; in a word, exempt from every obstacle, whether intrinsic or\nextrinsic, that might in any way oppose the designs of God. But,\nalas! by some unaccountable inconsistency, we are in contradiction\nwith ourselves; for, notwithstanding our great desire to live, and\nour horror of death, still we seem to be in a hurry with the time to\npass, as though we advanced too slowly to the grave.\n\nNow, we are well aware that of this lifetime the present is all that\nwe can claim, the past and future being in the hands of God; still,\ntrue to the same principle of inconsistency we make little or no use\nof the present, it is something annoying that we wish, to get over,\nas quickly as possible, while we are absorbed by a countless\nmultitude of useless but importunate desires relative to the past,\nwhich we can never recall, and the future, which perhaps we shall\nnever see.\n\nHence, as we journey onward in this way, we must naturally find\nourselves a prey to fears and doubts, sometimes suspended between\nhope and despondency, while the heart is harassed by corroding\ndesires that succeed each other like waves on a tempest-driven sea.\nWe wish to be our own providence, to dispose of our own future of our\nlifetime according to those desires, instead of leaving that work to\nHim from whom we have received all that we possess.\n\nWhen we are assailed by regrets in the evening, and filled with\nanxieties for the morrow, how can our heart rebound with joy, or our\nlips wear the smile of confidence and tranquility? Behold some of the\nmany sources from which the fatal fiend of melancholy is fed and\nstrengthened. But this vile destroyer of peaceful joy springs from\nanother source not less fatal than those just mentioned. That is a\ncertain vagueness of mind and heart, which is sometimes the result of\nsome physical or bodily indisposition, but more frequently the\nconsequence of an imperfect education, or indifference in the service\nof God.\n\nThat which gives to the mind its needed assurance and strength, and\nto the heart its consistency and solidity, is a lively faith,\nnourished and sustained by a sincere piety. Of this you are\nthoroughly convinced, as you know full well that faith alone can give\na solid basis to our thoughts, a true direction to our desires, and\nan eternal destiny to our hopes. Without faith the mind is without\nballast--unsettled as to what it ought to believe or reject; the\nheart ignores what it should fear or hope for; in a word, the soul is\nlost in the midst of her vacillating desires.\n\nIn order that faith may impart its vivifying influence it must\npenetrate the soul's substance, and become to her the principle of a\nnew life, directing all her movements, animating all her thoughts,\ndesires and hopes. A superficial and inactive faith that is purely\nexterior, satisfied with believing what God reveals, without\nquickening the spiritual pulsations of the soul, will not preserve\nher from that vagueness and uncertainty which deprive all objects of\ntheir natural colors, and lend them a sombre shade which saddens the\nheart.\n\nIf you would escape falling a victim to melancholy, preserve your\nfaith with precious care, enliven it constantly by fervent prayer, by\nmeditation and the abundant graces received through the Sacraments.\nLet its pure light be the rule of your thoughts and actions, accustom\nyour mind to dwell upon things that are practical, and consequently\nuseful, sedulously avoiding all speculative or doubtful topics, that\nhave no other result than to keep the mind in a state of suspense and\nindecision. You will fare better in having a clear knowledge of\npractical things, even at the cost of appearing less learned than\nothers.\n\nA third source of melancholy is a species of mental idleness,\nconcerning which women are exposed to labor under a false impression.\nAs they are naturally given to manual occupation habit begets with\nthem an antipathy to mental labor; their judgment is readily but\nerroneously convinced by their feelings, which easily lead them to\nbelieve that they are sufficiently occupied when their fingers are\nengaged in fixing an embroidery or something similar. To reason the\nmatter, they will readily admit that labor exclusively manual having\nno share in the exercise of the mental faculties, cannot be\nconsidered to give sufficient occupation to an intelligent being;\nsince the imagination would be left to the mercy of its caprices and\nthe heart to the whims of its desires, which is not worthy of a being\ncreated to the image and likeness of God, who commands us to labor as\nHe labored, namely: with mind and heart constantly supplying useful\nthoughts to the one and noble sentiments to the other.\n\nSuch is the heavenly duty enjoined by those consoling words of our\nSaviour: _pray always_. At first sight it would seem that such\nan obligation is impossible and contrary to human nature. We cannot,\nhowever, even suppose that He who has made man what he is,\nmisunderstood his nature so far as to command him to do\nimpossibilities.\n\nEvery thought that raises the mind towards God, every sentiment that\nbrings the heart near to Him, is a prayer. Hence there is no\noccupation that may not become a prayer, since there is none that may\nnot be referred to God. The duties and obligations of woman, far from\nbeing an obstacle to the practical exercise of the above principle,\non the contrary favor its execution most admirably; for her duties,\nthough of the manual order for the most part, are not of a nature to\ndistract the mind or absorb the heart; she can easily and constantly\nconcentrate the thoughts of the one and the affections of the other\nupon God.\n\nThat you should make God the object of all your actions is your\nfirst and most imperative duty, and the moment that you discharge\nyour duties for any other end that moment they shall lose the dignity\nof deeds worthy of a Christian or even of a rational being; moreover,\nyour mind, as you are fully aware, is endowed with perpetual\nactivity, it is never idle,--you need only chose the objects to which\nyou wish to apply it. But if you fail to apply it to things worthy of\nyour sublime calling it will soon escape from your control, and,\nflitting from one trifle to another, it will meddle with objects that\nmight become dangerous to the peace of your soul. It will soon become\npreoccupied by puerile fears, unfounded apprehensions, vague sadness,\nwhich, when constantly indulged in, will deliver your soul over to\nmelancholy which never fails to tarnish the purity of the heart and\nenervate the energy of the will.\n\nThe pain that many suffer from their imaginary ills robs them of the\nnoble and generous love of compassionating the real and painful\ngriefs of others. Egotism is nurtured and fortified in those ravings\nwhich attach the soul's energies to the consideration of our own ills\nor sorrows; the heart grows cold and hardened in a deplorable\ninsensibility which estranges it to every sentiment of pity and\ncompassion for others.\n\nThere is, I am aware, a sorrow that is salutary to the soul, and\nconformable to the spirit of Christianity, as also to man's condition\nin this vale of tears. I know that it is very difficult to be always\njoyful, when we take into account the dangers by which we are\nsurrounded, the countless calamities to which we are exposed since\nthe day that sin had entered the world. We very often see the objects\nof our warmest affections disappear from around us; and every day\nsome new misfortune or some new loss adds some new tears to our cup\nof sorrow, from whose bitterness every one is doomed to drink during\nlife.\n\nFar from me be the thought of engaging you to fly this holy sorrow\nimposed by our condition and recommended by our Lord Himself.\n_\"There is,\"_ says St. Paul, _\"a sorrow according_ to God\"\nwhich, far from plunging the heart into a state of despondency,\nenables the soul to avoid the dangers which constantly expose her to\nlose God by sin. But this sorrow does not trouble the peace of either\nthe heart or the mind, for it is that sorrow which our divine Saviour\ncalled blessed, and for which He has promised consolation.\n\nFar be from me, also, the thought of advising that foolish and\nboisterous joy which carries away the soul, absorbing all her\nenergies filling her with void and disgust. This joy, far from being\na remedy or a protection against melancholy, is, on the contrary,\nboth its cause and effect. The result of those intemperate paroxysms\nof joy, so little in conformity with our nature is that which\ninvariably results from any forced or undue influence.\n\nWhen shackled nature recovers her liberty she revenges the violence\nthat she was made to endure. But, seizing her rights with too great\navidity, she suffers more from the reaction than from the force that\ninfringed upon them. This explains the reason of those fitful\noutbursts of joy and grief that pass in quick succession. Those\npuerile fears, followed by hopes, without rule or aim, that vain\nconfidence giving place to sad discouragement. Those despondent\nfeelings after moments of zealous fever, during which we seem to be\nable to do and attempt everything. Here we find the solution of those\nsudden and varied shades of temperament which will instantaneously\ncheer or prostrate the energies of the soul.\n\nIf you would preserve your soul from melancholy, conserve your heart\nin a calm composure, your mind in a just equanimity keeping both\nequally distant from all extremes able to taste joy with discretion,\nand sorrow without becoming discouraged. This will be putting in\npractice the advice of the wise man: Give not up thy soul to sadness\nand afflict not thyself in thy own counsel. The joyfulness of the\nheart is the life of man and a never-failing treasure of holiness,\nand the joy of man is length of life. Have pity on thy own soul,\npleasing God and contain thyself; gather up thy heart in his holiness\nand drive away sadness far from thee. For sadness hath killed many\nand there is no profit in it. Envy and anger shorten a man's days,\nand pensiveness will bring old age before the time. A cheerful and\ngood heart is always feasting, for his banquets are prepared with\ndiligence. Eccl. xxx. 22-27.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXI.\n\n\nON READING.\n\nIf the wisdom of nations, which loves to find expression in the\nproverbs, teaches us that a man may be known by knowing the company\nthat he frequents; we can say with the same assurance that his\ncharacter and dispositions may be known from the books which he\nconstantly reads. Of all friends, the most intimate are the books\nthat we constantly read, hence there is nothing more important for a\nyoung person, as there is nothing that entails such grave\nconsequences for the moral culture, than the selection of proper and\nsuitable books. Because it is a noted fact that such readings\nexercise the deepest influence over the mind and heart, so much that\nall the resources which the ingeniousness of maternal love can employ\nagainst it avail nothing. God's minister in the pulpit of truth has\nno weight with those souls fascinated by the deceitful charms of a\nbad book, which addresses itself to their prejudices and passions.\nThe charitable advice of the confessor in the tribunal of penance is\nfutile against the intoxicating seductions of those romances whose\nonly merit consists in flattering the most depraved inclinations of\nthe human heart.\n\nIndeed it is a subject both of surprise and sorrow to see an author\nof the most menial abilities lauded to the skies for a book still\nmore abject than himself, a book teeming with error and immorality;\nwhile, very often, a discourse, a sermon or an instruction, whatever\nmay be the authority that they receive either from the character of\nthe person who pronounces them, or from the gravity of the\ncircumstances in which he speaks, are heard with indifference. Good\nand evil, truth and error, are never so rapidly propagated, never so\npowerful in their action, never so certain in their effects as when\nthey are communicated to us under the form of a book authorized by\nfashion or party spirit. Hence there is no greater responsibility\nbefore God than that which man assumes when he wields the pen in the\nname of humanity, whether for noble or selfish ends.\n\nA book is a teacher whose doctrine is listened to with a willingness\nequal to its degree of conformity to the inclinations of our heart.\nIt is a friend that gains our confidence, inasmuch as it flatters our\nprejudices and passions, and in which we find a reflection of our own\nthoughts, the echo of our most secret sentiments. You would not like\nto receive a stranger into your house without his being properly\nrecommended, but you will readily receive a book on the strength of\nreports that are often deceitful.\n\nThe country is flooded with productions that sap the foundations of\nmorality, and which bear that _imprimatur_ given by a poisoned\npublic opinion to such authors as pander to its craven spirit. The\nworld judges with a depraved indulgence the book in which it finds\nits maxims approved and sanctioned, portraying the exact seducing\npicture of its vanities. The purest souls and, not unfrequently,\nserious minds are too often imposed upon by those popular prejudices,\nand, despite their good reason, yield to their influence by reading\nthe flimsy productions of depraved minds, which, besides all the\nother injuries they cause, rob them of a most precious time. A book\nmust be very bad before the world condemns it, so bad, in fact, that\nits own intrinsic filth disgusts the reader and seals its fate. But,\nthere is another kind of literature favorably received by that\nportion of mankind called respectable, honest, and sometimes even\nsevere, and whose authority is capable of making a grave impression\non your mind.\n\nIt is, therefore, very important for you to know not only the signs\nby which to recognize a bad book, but also whom you should consult as\njudges in the matter. There can be no question here of those books\nprofessedly immoral, in which vice is eulogized and corrupt maxims\nsustained. Those books are not dangerous for you, because they will\nnot fall under your hands, and even when they would you could not\nopen one of them without flinging it away with horror;--in this case\nthe evil--contains in itself its own remedy.\n\nBut there are books, less dangerous in appearance, in which the most\ndelicate situations are represented, clothed in all the charms of\nstyle, well calculated, under their moral guise and serious bearing,\nto captivate the heart and imagination. Indeed to represent in lively\ncolors the terrible effects of the passions, and the fatal\nconsequences that a momentary excitement might entail is not of a\nnature to inspire a young lady with horror for vice and love for\nvirtue. How is it possible that she will guard against the evil\ninclinations of the heart, when she is conscious of the danger in\ngiving them free scope, and that a momentary forgetfulness is\nsometimes punished by a life-time of sorrow and bitterness? Such a\nculpable negligence might be accounted for, if there existed a\nnecessary relation between the will and the imagination, by which the\ndeterminations of the former are necessarily dependant upon the\nimpressions of the latter.\n\nBut such is not the case, for the imagination has a sphere of action\nvery different from that of the intelligence or the will. It is an\ninterior mirror which reflects back upon the soul images of things\nbeheld by the senses and conceived by the intelligence, without\nregard to time or place. Positively no, would be the answer of a\nyoung lady of self-respect, whom we would ask if she would like to\nsee with her own eyes all that is spoken of in the novel which she\nreads with so little caution! Your answer would be given in the same\nterms, should we ask you if she might read without impunity to virtue\nthose intrigues, those scenes so engaging to curiosity, and which\nincite the reader to follow up the details of ineffectual struggles\nagainst passion. Could she, without blushing, listen to the\npassionate conversations of those who had lead each other to\ndestruction, after having exhausted all the resources of heart and\nmind to render vice amiable, even when their fall would seem to be\nless the effect of a criminal will than the result of a kind of\nfatality? Your answer to all this would be emphatically, no!\n\nBut while young ladies will neither listen to nor look at scenes of\nthis nature, many, alas! do not scruple to look at them in books,\nwhere they are much more dangerous, for being adorned with all the\ncharms of style, and because the persons represented are made to\nspeak and act in a much more luring manner than they do in reality.\nThey devour with avidity those dangerous, and sometimes scurrilous\npages; but while they chain their attention to the matter they are\nreading, their imagination gains the ascendancy over all the senses,\nand under their united action images are formed which leave a lasting\nimpression on the mind--images of misfortune that has befallen\npersons either through their own fault or the fault of others, and\nwhich, through sympathy, the human heart, whether wrong or right, is\nalways ready to find a pretext to justify.\n\nIn reading of those misfortunes she may perhaps recognize the hand\nof divine vengeance pursuing the criminal culprit, which is of a\nnature to inspire her with a sentiment of fear that deters from the\ncommission of crime; but such sentiments have been felt by the heroes\nof the novel which she has read, and nevertheless they have fallen\ninto the abyss which they so much dreaded, I would almost say while\nfleeing from it. But when they take their stand on a declivity so\nsteep and slippery, nothing short of a miracle can save them.\n\nSuch is precisely the nature of the danger in which the readers of\nsuch books place them-selves. In those books human frailty is\nidolized, deeds committed through it are either necessary or\nexcusable, the hair-breadth escapes, and often the tragical\nconclusion of their story, will often inspire the reader with a\nsalutary terror, it is true; but will that feeling destroy all those\ntender sympathizing sentiments that were felt while dreading it? Of\ncourse this fear is felt by the will, but the imagination has already\nfinished its work; it has seen, heard and felt by the senses; it has\ndelighted and fascinated the soul by those images whose charms cannot\nbe destroyed by the unfortunate issue of those struggles in which\nfrailty played such an important role.\n\nThe will, distracted by the tumult of external things, and the\nvariety of, her occupations or pleasures, will soon lose this\nsentiment of terror on which she seems to count so much, but the\nimagination will conserve for a long time the impressions and images\nupon which it has feasted, and which will form the constant subject\nof her thoughts during the day and of her dreams during the night.\n\nHence, the books that are capable of producing such results are\nevidently bad, and if you wish to preserve intact the innocence of\nyour heart you should never take one of them in your hands. If you\nwish to conceive a deep horror for vice, and guard against the snares\nof passion, you will more readily and securely attain your end by\nreading a few serious books in which truth is presented in its own\nsimplicity without artifice. Books in which the author, realizing the\nimportance of his mission, directly addresses the mind without trying\nto captivate the heart and imagination, or to render vice amiable\nfirst in order to inspire you with horror for it afterwards. If you\nwish to be true to yourself; if by your readings your object is to\ncultivate a love for virtue and horror for evil, novels are not the\nbooks that you will have recourse to.\n\nHence, to draw a practical conclusion from our considerations on\nthis subject, you may safely say that a book is, if not bad, at least\ndangerous when its tendencies are to render interesting, and\nagreeable such deeds or language as you would neither look at nor\nlisten to. This should be the first rule by which to judge of the\nmoral worth of the books you wish to read.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXII.\n\n\nSAME SUBJECT CONTINUED.\n\nTo the rule given in the foregoing chapter may be added another of\nequal importance in the selection of suitable books to read.\nGenerally speaking, all books that draw too much on the imagination\nmay be considered as dangerous. You are well aware, and it has been\nfrequently said, in the course of this little book, that the\nimagination is precious and useful when regulated with discretion,\nand directed with prudence; but the moment that it is allowed to\nassume a preponderance which does not belong to it, it becomes\nnoxious to our spiritual and temporal welfare. Moreover, it is united\nto the senses by the most intimate ties, through which it receives\nimpressions and images that keep it in constant activity; we should\nconstantly labor to check, rather than to encourage its development;\nwhile we should spare neither pains nor diligence to develop the\nintelligence which, when left in ignorance of truths that could\nenlighten and elevate it, becomes the victim of cruel doubt,\nidleness, effeminacy and pleasure.\n\nThere are books said to be useless, and consequently harmless, but\nthe conclusion, without being false, is not just; for we have just as\nmuch reason to believe they are dangerous as to admit the contrary.\nNow, if a book is indeed useless you cannot bear to read it, and\nsince you do read it, it must certainly contain something interesting\nwhich renders it agreeable to you; it pleases some faculty of your\nsoul, some habitual thought of your mind, some predominating\ndisposition of your heart.\n\nThat a book may be read without profit is quite true. But that the\nsame book can be read without danger of sustaining some loss is\nevidently false, unless that it be maintained that we are justified\nin having no proposed end for our actions; or that we may act solely\nfor pastime which is diametrically opposed to the end for which we\nwere created: Our time is too precious to be used indifferently.\nAgain if there is in life anything that may be read or omitted\nwithout losing some advantage, or committing some evil, it is\ncertainly not a book, for it always contains either some facts or\nsome pictures, or some maxims capable of making an impression on your\nmind and heart.\n\nThe intelligence is formed and developed by means of language, and\nlanguage, considered from this point of view, furnishes us with no\nidle words. Hence a useless book is, in the true acceptation of the\nterm, a book that amuses the imagination and the heart. Now, whatever\nthe soul receives through these channels must be of some importance\nfor good or evil. Hence we are not justified, on the plea of\nindifference to accept any book that falls under our hands without\nbeing thoroughly examined and competently recommended.\n\nHere, of course, a new difficulty occurs: at your age, and with your\nexperience, you are unable to judge what books you should read; you\nare therefore obliged to follow the advice of others in the matter,\nbut not the advice of all indiscriminately, as all are not competent\nto direct you in a matter of such grave importance. Popularity will\ngive a wide circulation to a book bat can by no means recommend it;\nhence public opinion is not a rule that will guarantee you against\ndeception.\n\nThose in whom you place entire confidence to choose a book for you\nshould themselves be recommended by their sincere and generous piety,\nthe dignity of their life, the solidity of their judgment,\nstrengthened by an extensive knowledge of men and things. Above all\nthings be on your guard against the books recommended by worldly\nwomen, lovers of pleasure and parties; those whose light and\nfrivolous minds sicken at serious thoughts, who are on their guard\nlest they may do too much for God, and who vainly endeavor to\nreconcile, in a monstrous union, the maxims of the world with those\nof the Gospel, the seductions of pleasure with the austerities of\nvirtue, desiring to serve God and mammon.\n\nIf, by some negligence, or even in good faith; you open one of those\nbooks against which you have been warned, shut it the moment you feel\nyour imagination excited by the images it offers, or when you\nperceive that the mind's curiosity becomes aroused to its agreeable\nnarration of incidents, for it is almost always an unfavorable sign\nof a book that produces those and similar effects. Such is not the\nmanner in which truth and virtue affect us. Their action is milder\nand calmer, and has the heart and will, rather than the imagination\nfor its object. Hence, be on your guard, lest by some indiscretion\nyou allow a poison to enter your soul, which is never more dangerous\nthan when it seems least to be feared.\n\nFinally, to resume in a few words, all that we have considered on\nthe subject: If you would place the moral merit of a book beyond\nquestion, ask yourself if you would like to have its author for your\nspiritual director; do not think that this precaution is exaggerated\nor uncalled for; for between the author of a book and the reader\nthere are relations established so intimate that they beget a kind of\nintellectual paternity, which produces deeper and more durable\neffects than you may be aware of.\n\nTo express the influence that our actions exercise over our life and\nover our fate, man is said to be the son of his works. For similar\nreason, it may be said of him, but more especially of woman, that he\nis the son of his readings, for reading forms such an important\nfactor in the formation of the heart and mind that it often modifies\nour whole being. Besides, if you wish to profit by your reading, read\nonly a few books, but read them well, with close attention,\nreflecting long and often on what you have read, identifying your\nvery thoughts and sentiments with the subject matter of their pages.\nBut let all this have its practical utility, let all those advantages\nfind a living expression in your language, in your actions, and in\nyour whole life.\n\n\nEND.","title":"Serious Hours of a Young Lady","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":43931}