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SERIOUS HOURS

OF

A YOUNG LADY, BY

CHARLES SAINTE FOI. 

Translated from the French

BY PHILALETES

PREFACE. 

A celebrated author has justly remarked that Christian women can, like the guardian angels, invisibly govern the world; and the authorof the "_Serious Hours of a Young Lady_" has very appropriatelymade this truth the basis of his book, since the object that he hadin view in writing it was to point out the important role that womanplays in society, and to give the young girl such instructions aswill enable her, in due time, to discharge, in a worthy manner, theduties of her calling. In doing this he has given evidence of veryelevated views and of a profound knowledge of the human heart. Thebook is a tissue of practical counsels, couched in the clearest andmost delicate terms. 

Hence, judging from its intrinsic worth, and the universal welcomewith which it has been hailed in the original, we feel that it is noexaggeration to assert that it has rendered and will still renderinestimable good to society. 

After having lucidly exposed the importance of woman's mission inthis world, and pointed out the evils that prevent its realization, the author ingeniously brings before the mind's eye the differentphases of her life, the varied process of development that sheundergoes in all her faculties, the dangerous influences to which sheis constantly exposed, the means that should be employed to ensureher protection. 

We behold her on the threshold of childhood a tiny, timid andretiring creature, naturally disposed to attach her affections to allthat is pure and elevated, to everything that conduces to thepractice of virtue and the love of God. While yet a child she is thelittle confidante and angel of consolation of her brothers andsisters in their pains and difficulties. At a more advanced age wesee her consoling her aged parents in their sorrows and afflictions;and when she merges into womanhood she becomes either the spouse ofJesus Christ or of man, only to continue the same work of beneficencein some charitable asylum, or in the midst of domestic cares. But ereshe attains this last stage of life how numerous and great are thedifficulties that she must encounter, the dangers to which she willbe exposed, and the snares to entrap her!

Hence, to ensure her safety and prepare her to act the importantrole that she holds in society, her education must be the work ofpiety, modesty and retirement. All that interferes with their actionin her soul must be peremptorily removed. Worldly pleasures withtheir numerous cortège should never have access to the sanctuary ofher heart, for their poisoned influence blasts the fairest flower inher crown of simplicity. 

But, alas! we confess, with deep regret, that there are manythoughtless tutors who seemingly ignore the grave responsibility oftheir charge, and unwarrantably parade the little one before theworld's gaze, which creates in the heart evil impressions, frivoloustastes and inordinate desires. And, even when they would all provefaithful to their trust, it is a noted fact that society, friends andcompanions wield a powerful influence over the mind and heart of ayoung girl, which, when allowed to continue, most invariably provespernicious to her spiritual and temporal welfare. 

Hence, she stands in need of a true friend, a faithful adviser, onwhom she can depend for safe instruction, and to whom she can haverecourse as often as need be. The "_Serious Hours_" is unquestionablyall this; it speaks openly, firmly, but mildly. It inspires theyoung girl with that genuine, lofty esteem that she should havefor herself and for the dignity of her sex. It clearly defines herline of conduct in all the most critical incidents and circumstancesof life, so that she cannot be deceived unless that she wilfullyshuts her eyes to the light of truth. It is all that the authorproposed to make it, a first class book of instruction for youngladies, showing a careful study of all their wants and a happychoice of the remedies to meet them. And, believing that such avaluable book ought to be made accessible to all nations, we haveventured to present it to the public in an English dress. How far wehave succeeded in rendering both its form and spirit we leave thepublic to decide. And, while we are fully aware that, in transferringthe genius of one language to another, some of the original delicateshades of beauty must be inevitably sacrificed--the presenttranslation not excepted--still we are happy to say that the work wasone of love and deep interest to us, on account of its importance andgood to society. 

TRANSLATOR. 

CONTENTS:

Translator's Preface

CHAPTER I. --Importance of the Time of Youth; Difficulties andDangers that Women Meet With in Life, and the Necessity of Providingfor Them

CHAPTER II. --Illusions of Youth; Value of Time at this Period of Life

CHAPTER III. --The Heart of Woman; the Necessity of Regulating itDuring Youth

CHAPTER IV. --The Dignity of Woman

CHAPTER V. --Eve and Mary

CHAPTER VI. --Eve and Mary (Continued)

CHAPTER VII. --The World

CHAPTER VIII. --The Same Subject (Continued)

CHAPTER IX--The Will

CHAPTER X. --The Imagination

CHAPTER XI. --Piety

CHAPTER XII. --Vocation

CHAPTER XIII. --A Serious Mind

CHAPTER XIV. --Choice of Companions

CHAPTER XV. --Toilet

CHAPTER XVI. --Desire to Please

CHAPTER XVII. --Curiosity

CHAPTER XVIII. --Meditation and Reflection

CHAPTER XIX. --Obedience to Parents

CHAPTER XX. --Melancholy

CHAPTER XXI. --On Reading

CHAPTER XXII. --Same Subject (Continued)

CHAPTER I. 

IMPORTANCE OF THE TIME OF YOUTH; DIFFICULTIES AND DANGERS THAT WOMENMEET WITH IN LIFE, AND THE NECESSITY OF PROVIDING FOR THEM. 

The most important period of life is that in which we are the betterable, in making good use of the present, to repair the past andprepare for the future; that period holds the intermediate placebetween the age of infancy and the age of maturity, embracing theadvantages of both, presenting at the same time the flowers of theone with the fruits of the other. In order to prepare for the futurewe need a certain assistance from the past, for this preparationdemands a certain maturity of judgment and a force of will thatexperience alone can give. 

The child, devoid as it is of personal experience, can, by turningthat of others to good account, make up for the deficiencies of itsyouth, and prepare for the future without having to learn in thesevere school of self-experience. But, through an unfortunateoccurrence of circumstances, and very often without any fault oftheirs, the greater part of children attain the age of manhood andwomanhood without having reaped the precious advantages offered themby the first stage of life, when the soul is most susceptible ofreceiving the impress of grace and virtue. A vitiated or inadequateprimitive education, bad example, pernicious instruction? perchance, or at least personal levity of character, combined with that ofchildhood, deprive this age of many advantages, and call for a totalreparation of the past, at a period of life that should be the livingfigure of hope. 

Happy, indeed, are those who have only the levity and negligences ofchildhood to repair, and who have never felt the crushing weight of ahumiliating and grievous fault! Alas! that purity, that innocence socommon formerly among children, is every day disappearing from theirmidst, many among them have become the victims of sin ere thepassions of the heart manifested their presence; and their heartshave quivered from the sting of remorse ere they felt the perfidiouslurings of pleasure. Many have received from sin that dolefulexperience, that premature craftiness, which, far from enlighteningthe mind, obscures and blinds it, --which, far from fortifying thewill, enfeebles and enervates it. 

Such is the light by which we can truly see the importance thatshould be attached to the time of youth. At this period of life sinhas not yet taken deep root in the heart, --it has not at leastassumed the frightful magnitude of one of those inveterate habits, justly called habits of second nature, which invade and pollute thesacred sanctuary of both body and soul, forming in the earliestinstincts, inclinations and desires so violent, so obstinate, thatsuperhuman efforts with a life-long struggle are the consequencesentailed upon the unfortunate victims, who desire to hold them insubjection. 

However, it is invariably true that, if the passions peculiar toyouth virulently assail virtue and expose the heart to the seductionsof pleasure, they also give a great facility of doing good, byinflaming youthful zeal which age never fails to cool. The ardoraroused by them for the commission of evil can be easily employed forthe practice of virtue; they are young and fiery steeds which God hasplaced at your disposal, ready to obey your orders. Attach them tothe chariot of your will, they will not fail to draw you in thedirection that you may open to their impetuosity. It matters not tothem whether they run upon the way of vice or virtue, --all that theyrequire is to go, to run and not to be constrained to inaction, whichkills them. They must be managed by a resolute will which holds thereins with a firm grip, and by a calm intelligence, skilled to directthem. 

Trees, while young, can be easily plied into any direction that manmay wish to give them. The same may be said of hearts in which thefrost of age has not cooled the ardor and impetuosity of desire. Their energy and vivacity, whether for good or evil, never forsakethem. They are like those spirited racers which are no sooner downthan up again, for, swift as a flash, they will turn you to God byrepentance and love, the moment you have the misfortune of losing Himby sin. Be then full of confidence and hope, young soul, to whom Godhas opened with a liberal hand the spring-time of life; be gratefulto Him for so signal a favor, and, like a wise economist, profit bythe resources that He places at your disposal. But, should the pastrecall some doleful memories, be not dismayed; be hopeful and, re-animating your courage, prepare for the future by sowing at presentthe germs of those beautiful virtues which grace irrigates, and whosefruits will rejoice your old age and atone for the sterility of yourearlier years. 

Your future happiness is insured if you fully comprehend theimportance of the epoch which you now begin, and the greatness of itsresults for the rest of your life. Let past delinquencies become anincentive, stimulating your will to energetic action. Let the need ofrepairing the past, and the importance of preparing for the futureinspire you with generous resolutions and an ardent desire ofacquiring all the virtues necessary to a person of your sex andposition, in order that you may discharge in a worthy manner all theduties which may be required of you. Regard the future with a calmand firm eye, without exaggerating the difficulties, but also withoutdissembling the dangers. The first condition required to avoid adanger is to know it, for the ignorance that conceals from us thesnares which we should avoid is--after the evil inclination thatleads us into them--man's greatest misfortune, and the mostdisastrous of the effects of original sin. 

Women, even in the most humble walks of life, can scarcely hopenow-a-days to enjoy that sweet, calm and peaceful life which wasformerly insured by the purest morals and the most pious customs. 

If the world, spite of that inordinate desire for reform andinnovation which consumes it, has not yet seriously endeavored towithdraw woman from the circle to which Providence would have herdevote the activity of her mind and life; if it has consented tillnow to have her shun the theatre and the whirlpool of politicalcommotions, it will be extremely difficult for her to escape itscounter-shock, and preserve her self-composure and serenity of soulin the midst of those turbulent events which absorb her husband'slife, that of her children, of her father and brothers. If it waseasy for her to preserve her heart at a tender age from theseductions of the world and the dangerous snares of vanity orpleasure, through the sweet influence of those more modest, and atthe same time more rigid customs which identified her thoughts andaffections with the family circle; such is not the case at present, for an unfortunate necessity, invested with the vain title ofpropriety, compels her to seek in a more fashionable, a morenumerous, and consequently an unsuitable society, distractions orpastimes for which she is not made, and which recreate neither body, nor mind, nor heart. 

The feverish agitation and insatiable thirst for enjoyment whichseem to prevail among all ages and classes of the present day isenigmatical. Life now-a-days must be passed in a state of constantexcitement. The peaceful calm productive of a modest and pure lifeappear to the imagination like a monotonous and disdainful sleep. Theyoung girl herself has scarcely left the paternal home in which shepassed her youthful days when she dreams of the pleasing emotions andincomparable joys promised her by a flashy and fashionable life. Theexamples which come under her notice wherever she goes or wherevershe turns her eyes, --the language which she hears, and the very airwhich she breathes, --all give her, as it were, a foretaste of thefalse pleasures which now fascinate her imagination. 

This is, most assuredly, one of the worst signs of our time. Up tothe present day women, for the most part, faithful to their vocationand to the duties of their station in life, have carefully preservedin the family circle that sacred fire of Christian virtue which formsmagnanimous souls, and that piety which produces saints. Theirhearts, like the Ark of the Covenant, have preserved intact thosetables of the divine law which admonish men of their duties, andinspire them with a firm hope. They have not fixed their hearts onthe vain and frivolous joys of earth; no, heaven was their aim. Preserved from the contagion of worldly interests and desires, theirthoughts feasted on elevated and heavenly objects. What will becomeof society if, deprived of the resources it found in their virtues, it meets with no other barrier on the steep declivity down which itis being impelled by cupidity and the love of pleasure? What will bethe fate of future generations if they are not sanctified in thesanctuary of the family by the benevolent influence of woman, andfortified against the seductions of vice by that odor of grace andsanctity which the heart of a Christian mother exhales?

Be not discouraged at the sight of difficulties that hover over thehorizon of the future; on the contrary, they should inspire you withgreater courage and energy. The less help you will obtain fromtrusted sources of reliance, the more earnestly should you seek inGod and yourself what you look for in vain elsewhere. You may expectto see diminish, from day to day, the number of those saintly soulsfrom whom you could obtain advice, support or light. 

For you, perhaps, like many others, life will be a desert which youmust traverse almost alone, without meeting a single soul to reachyou a helping hand in your necessities and trials. Being about to setout on this pilgrimage of life, which will perhaps be long, fatiguingand painful, be supplied with an ample provision of strength, patience, virtue and energy. And, if happily deceived in your fears, you find the road which leads to eternity smooth under your feet, youwill at least have the merit of having been wise in your conduct, fornot less moral strength is required to bear the happiness ofprosperity than the misfortune of adversity. Happiness here below issomething so extremely perilous to man's eternal welfare that few cantaste it without injury to their souls. Hence, in order to guardagainst its fatal influence, not less preparation, nor less time, norless efforts, are required than to suffer the privations imposed byadversity, for experience proves that the former is more destructivethan the latter to the work of eternal salvation. 

CHAPTER II. 

ILLUSIONS OF YOUTH, VALUE OF TIME AT THIS PERIOD OF LIFE. 

The age of youth is the age of illusions, ardent desires, andfanciful hopes. Youth is like a fairy whose magical wand evokes themost graceful images and the most alluring phantoms. This ignoranceof the doleful realities concealed in the future is a gift of divinegoodness which, in order that life might not be too bitter, casts abeneficent veil over the sorrows that await us; God screens thefuture from us to let us enjoy the present. Far be it from me toremove this veil which renders you such kind service. But, apart fromthis screen which the good God has placed between you and themiseries of this life, there is another of a darker and heaviershade, fabricated by the imagination, and which it draws with aperfidious complacency over the object which it behooves us the mostto know and avoid--a seductive and deceitful veil which, whilepresenting things to us in a false light, exposes us to mostdeplorable illusions and inevitable dangers. 

God permits that we should ignore many things, but He does not wishthat we should be deceived in anything. He is truth itself; error cannever claim His acquiescence. 

If prudence and respect for God's work make it a duty for me toleave intact the veil that He has drawn between you and the future, Iwould consider it highly criminal in me if I did not endeavor toremove that by which your imagination seeks to conceal its illusionsand its errors. It is not my wish or design to trouble the present byexaggerated anxiety; but, on the other hand, I do not wish to leaveyou under a false impression, fed by delusive hopes relative to thefuture. My desire is that, while enjoying with gratitude andsimplicity the happiness or peace which God has bestowed upon you inthe springtime of life, you may profit by the calm and tranquillityit affords you to prepare for the future, and to anticipate a meansof soothing its sorrows and bitterness. 

While the soil of your heart is yet untilled and moist, and whileyour hands are yet filled with those heavenly seeds which God hasgiven you in abundance, I desire that you may sow them in the lightand strength of divine grace, to develop in them the heavenly germswhich they contain, that you may be enabled to reap at a later timean abundant harvest of virtues, holy joy and merit before God andmen. I desire that you may learn to turn to good account all thenatural resources that you possess, and acquire that knowledge ofyourself which enlightens the mind without troubling the heart; I donot wish to discourage nor flatter you, I only wish to instruct andfortify you. 

Do not think that the river of life will always flow for you as itdoes at present, broad, deep, calm and limpid, between two flowerybanks. Age will diminish those waters and deprive their banks oftheir charm and freshness. The flame of passion, like a burning wind, will rise, and more than once perhaps will bring to the surface themud that rankles in the bottom, and thus destroy its limpidity. 

A day will come, and before long, when, stripped of all thoseexterior advantages which please the senses, you will possess onlythose qualities, less striking, but more solid, which satisfy themind and heart and attract the complaisant regard of God and theangels. Youth will quickly pass, more quickly than you think, and thesubsequent period of life will last much longer, hence, in alljustice to yourself, let its preparation absorb your attention. 

If you had a long sojourn to make in a place close by, would it bereasonable on your part to pay less attention to the place of yourdestination than to the few fleeting moments it would require to gothither. Youth is not a stopping-place, it is a passage, a time ofpreparation; it is to the whole life what the florid period is to thegardener, or seed-time to the farmer. 

Oh! if you did but fully comprehend the value of each hour duringthis most important period of life, the value of each thought of yourmind, of each sentiment of your heart, with what extreme care youwould watch over all the movements of your soul, nay, even theexternal movements of your body. 

That fugitive thought which enters your mind, fanned by curiosity'swing, may seem quite trivial; to dwell on and delight in it may be toyou something indifferent. That sentiment which, scarcely formed, commences to germinate in your heart, and to produce therein emotionsso imperceptible that you are but imperfectly conscious of itspresence, seems insignificant at first sight; that unguarded glanceseemed to you a matter of no import, and which, at an earlier orlater period of your life, would have but little consequence. At anearlier age the impression, it is true, would be lively butinconsistent, and the levity of childhood would soon have replaced itby another; later it would be found so superficial and trivial thatit would be soon forgotten among the multiplicity of thoughts whichabsorb the mind at the age of maturity; but, during the youthfulyears, everything that comes under the notice of the senses sinksdeeply into the soul, penetrating its very substance, the facultiesstill retain all the vivacity of youth, while already theyparticipate in that firmness which is characteristic of the age ofmaturity. 

That thought is, perhaps, the first link in a chain of thoughts andimages which will be the torment of your conscience and the bane ofyour life. That sentiment to which you imprudently pandered isperhaps the source of countless fears, regrets, remorse and sorrows. That imprudent glance is perhaps the first spark of a conflagrationwhich nothing can extinguish, and which will destroy your brightesthopes. 

If, as yet, you are ignorant of all the evil of which an imprudentglance may be productive, recall to mind the example furnished us bythe Sacred Scriptures in the person of David, who, for his imprudentglance at the wife of Urias, committed two crimes, the names of whichyou should ignore, and suffered a life of sorrow, repentance, bitterness and anguish: a life which even yet serves to express thesorrow and repentance of imprudent souls who have yielded to theallurements of the senses. And, nevertheless, David had attained theage of discretion when the mind is firm and the will is strong; Davidwas the cherished one of God; he was just and virtuous, one on whomGod had special designs of mercy. What a terrible example! What asevere, but at the same time instructive, lesson!

Young Christian soul, may it never be your sad experience to learnthe effect of an imprudent glance which would exact from you thebitter wages of countless tears and regrets. Is there anything in thematerial world so beautiful, so beneficent as the light and heat thatwe receive from the sun; is there among material things a livelierimage of the goodness of God towards us? And, nevertheless, let thesun shine upon the young and tender flower or vine immediately aftera shower of rain, and it will cause them to droop and wither. Thereason is quite obvious, for at no time is a being so frail anddelicate as at the moment of its formation. There is a criticalperiod for all beings, during which the greatest possible care isnecessary. In this relation, what is said of the body may be said ofthe soul; character is formed and developed according to the samelaws which regulate the development of the physical constitution. 

Are you not aware of the extraordinary care that must be taken ofthose organs that are the chief motors of the body, while they areunder process of development? Are you not aware that the fresh airwhich you inhale and which purifies and invigorates the bloodcontains for you the germ of death, which justifies in your goodparents the anxious care they take of your health, but which youperhaps regard as entirely unnecessary?

Now, what the lungs are to the human body, that the heart is to thesoul. It is by the heart that we breathe the spiritual and divineatmosphere that sustains our moral life. This atmosphere is composedof three elements, --truth, goodness and beauty, which envelop andpenetrate the soul's substance; as it is the respiratory organ of themind it follows that for the heart, as well as for the lungs, thereis an epoch of development which is dangerous, and which, consequently, demands the greatest possible care; it is the epoch ofyour age at present. An emotion too vivid, an indiscreet thought, animprudent glance, is quite sufficient to imperil the interesting anddelicate process by which your moral constitution is formed, toaccelerate the development of the heart, and thus give to this mostimportant organ a pernicious precocity or a false direction. 

Your mother, anxious and always trembling for your welfare, guardsit with tender solicitude from all the dangers to which it might beexposed. But her vigilance cannot equal that of your guardian angel, nor the care with which he removes you from contact with all thatmight in any way tarnish the purity of your soul, or trouble itspeace and harmony. It is to you that the Holy Ghost addresses thesewords of the Proverbs: With all watchfulness keep thy heart, becauselife issueth out from it. [Footnote: Proverbs iv 23. ]

The heart is, therefore, the seat of the moral life, and as thesource is known by the waters that flow from it, so will the morallife partake of the character and bear the impress of the heartwhence it proceeds. This is true of youth in general, but moreparticularly so of young ladies. 

CHAPTER III. 

THE HEART OF WOMAN; THE NECESSITY OF REGULATING IT DURING YOUTH. 

The most humble, most chaste, most holy of women, Blessed Mary everVirgin, she who is the ornament and glory of her sex who, inconsequence of her privilege of being the mother of God, merited tobe elevated so high above all creatures, revealed to us the existenceof a faculty in the soul, unknown to the philosophers, undiscoveredby the saints, unspoken of by the prophets. This faculty is moreconspicuous in woman than in man, for it exercises in her a decisiveinfluence which extends over the entire period of her life. Hence, God, "who ordereth all things, sweetly, " (Wisdom, viii. 1), desiredthat its existence should be made known to us by a woman, and that, too, while she was visiting another woman. 

In answer to the salutation of her cousin St. Elizabeth, Mary, filled with the Holy Ghost, breaks forth into that sublime Canticle, called the "Magnificat:" "He hath scattered the proud, " she sings, "_mente cordis sui;_" literally, "in the _mind_ of theirheart. " This is the faculty of which I speak; that _mind_, that_intellect of the heart_, if I may so term it, which is thehidden recess, the secret chamber of the soul, either blessed by thepeaceful presence of humility, or cursed by the baneful restlessnessof worldly ambition or pride. 

It is not going too far to say that a woman's mind is in her heart;it is the source both of the thoughts which ennoble and elevate, andof those which are selfish and worldly; it is the key to all thepowers of her soul, so that he who becomes the possessor of her heartis master of her whole being, and can exercise over her a power offascination which has no parallel in nature. 

God who disposes every being for the end which He proposed toHimself in creating it has established in woman's heart an abysswhich no human affection can fill nor exhaust when once it has beenfilled, because He desired to submerge her whole being in love, andthus to render easy and necessary to her the noblest sentiments andthe most heroic sacrifices. Such is the agent that He wished toemploy for the culture of charity in society and in the familycircle, as well as of the virtues of tenderness, compassion anddevotedness. He desired that in the family the child should be borne, so to speak, on woman's heart and man's intelligence, as on the twoarms of one and the same being; He desired that in society the mindof the one should furnish the light to guide in the way, and the loveof the other should produce that vivifying principle which animatesand quickens man's being: And, thus, that the moral life of humanityshould be the result of these two factors. God endowed the heart ofwoman with treasures of tenderness and devotedness, desiring to beHimself the supreme object of its devotion. To Himself alone has Hereserved the power of calming its fearful agitation and soothing itspoignant grief, hence we see it turning to Him in its joys andsorrows, like the magnet to the pole that attracts it. He has madethe heart of woman broad and deep, so that its devotedness maysuffice for all the exigencies it is called upon to meet, whether insociety or in the family, yet finding no created object able toexhaust it. 

When, forgetting the sublime end for which she has been created, woman lives for the world and not for heaven, lavishing her love oncreatures instead of giving it to God, her Creator, her soul becomesthe prey of inexpressible anguish and despondency, which admonish herof her mistake and induce her to correct it. 

You can easily judge from this of what great importance it is to youto keep a vigilant watch over your heart and its movements, since theheart is, so to speak, the citadel of your whole being, and hencewhen it is captured all the powers and faculties of your soul areforced to surrender. The heart is the agent that furnishes woman withthe greater part of her ideas, and the object of its predilectioninevitably becomes the only object of all her thoughts. This is theartist that furnishes the imagination with those images which remainsubstantially the same under forms constantly varying, but absorbingthe soul to such a degree that a person is often tempted to look upontheir action as the result of obsession. 

It is the heart that governs and shapes the will, giving it thatflexibility and at the same time that constancy so prevalent amongthe greater part of women, leading them, with unflinchingstubbornness of determination to the accomplishment of the endproposed. All difficulties vanish that stand between them and theobject of their heart. This disposition renders them potent for goodor evil, hence the necessity of regulating the heart and of neverlosing control over its movements. When their soul is swayed by apure and generous sentiment, and when the natural weakness of theirsex gives place to an energy which few men are capable of displaying, their ardor in doing good is truly admirable. God alone knows all thetreasures of virtue stored up within them daily, by charity, maternallove, filial piety, devotedness and compassion, but He alone alsoknows the malicious excess to which a sentiment, bad in its nature orin its source, may lead them. 

Oh, if while standing between these two abysses of good and evil, you could sound their depth, and behold the ineffable joy and glorythat women have secured by the practice of virtue, the sorrow, disgust, humiliation and shame that evil doings have brought uponthem (faults which at first sight did not seem capable of entailingsuch fatal consequences) horror and admiration should dispute thepossession of your soul; you would indeed tremble on beholding theconsequences of neglecting your vocation, while you would beastonished at the sublime elevation that fidelity to grace wouldsecure to you in heaven. 

God desires to accomplish great things through your instrumentality, and in order to secure your services with greater certainty he hasplaced around you barriers which you cannot pass without an effortthat does violence to nature, still necessity makes it a duty tobreak them down, and necessity has no law. When the first step istaken nothing can impede the will in the execution of your designs, be they good or bad. Hence the great importance of making your firststep in the right direction, as it will be the prelude to countlessothers. 

If you wish to possess your own heart and insure to yourself a lifeexempt from trouble and remorse, attach it firmly to God; accustom itto always prefer duty to pleasure and to propose to itself in all itsmovements an end worthy of your sublime destiny. Remember that Godalone can satisfy it--no creature being able to give it that peacewhich it so ardently craves. O, my child, if you knew the gnawingdesires, the vain hopes, the false joys, the troubles, the regretsand bitterness that fill the heart in which God does not dwell! Ifyour eyes were not screened by the veil of candor and simplicitypreventing you from foreseeing the torments to which that woman'slife is exposed, who has not learned in early youth to regulate thedesires and affections of her heart, you would better understand mywords, and the necessity of laboring energetically and efficiently todirect your own, and to check all its irregular movements. Learn now, and profit by the experience of others. Hearken to the voice of Godaddressing you in these words: "The flowers have appeared in ourland, the time of pruning is come; the voice of the turtle is heardin our land; the vines in flower yield their sweet smell. Arise, mylove, and come. Catch us the little foxes that destroy the vines, forour vineyard hath flourished. " (Cant. Ch. Ii. 12, 13, 15). The foxesof which the sacred writer speaks here are those defects which, although they appear small, still assail the soul with greatvirulence, and will leave no virtue intact unless you hasten todestroy them. 

The time for pruning is the time of youth, age truly preciouswherein you can still lop off useless branches which absorb a portionof the sap, depriving the others of that strength which they need inorder to produce an abundance of savory fruit. You should attack notonly those gross and manifest defects which disfigure the soul, butalso those imperfections which are slight in appearance, but which, if left alone, will in time become pernicious inclinations. Youshould even watch over certain natural dispositions, which, thoughgood in themselves, and even often esteemed above their true merit bythe world, might easily, on that account, divert the thoughts of themind and the efforts of the will from more important objects;dispositions very often dangerous for those who possess them, becauseit is easy to abuse them, and because they flatter and nourish self-love, or the other passions that flesh is heir to. You should imitatethose intelligent gardeners who pay a daily visit to their garden, pruning knife in hand, and cut off branches that might exhaust orovercharge the tree--not sparing them for the beauty of their foliageor the brightness of their flowers. 

If you wish to cultivate your heart and make it produce all thefruit and virtue that it is capable of producing, suffer nothinguseless or superfluous to grow therein, choosing what is best, measuring your esteem of certain things, and your application ofcertain duties by the degree of importance that each merits, givingthe preference, in your mind and heart, to the virtues which bringthe soul nearest to God. Love those hidden virtues, so modest andhumble, which are the ornament of your sex--those virtues of whichGod alone is witness, which the world ignores, --which it often, infact, despises, because they secure no advantage in men's esteem, receiving their reward only in the future world. But this is just thereason why God loves them so dearly, and why you should prefer them. For if, in general, it is dangerous to please the world and useful toshun it, this truth is especially applicable to woman, who, beingconfined to a narrower sphere, and devoted to more intimateaffections than man, is obliged to seek, at a tender age, isolation, tranquillity, repose, and that retirement which are truly a shield toher virtues. In this way you will do more for the real developmentand culture of your heart than by the acquisition of more agreeableand more brilliant qualities. 

Moreover, the same thing will happen for you that always happenswhen efforts are made to acquire what is best; when that which isessential is secured, the accessories will infallibly follow, just asthe effect follows the cause that produces it. By acquiring thevirtues that are pleasing to God you will receive, in addition, thosewhich men esteem; in becoming more and more agreeable to God you willbecome more and more pleasing to men, whose good sense and soundjudgment almost invariably triumph over prejudice which an austerebut modest virtue always removes. This is also what the Saviour ofthe world insinuates by these words of the Gospel in which Herecommends us to seek first the kingdom of God and His justice, promising that all other things shall be added thereto. But thisaddition should not be directly sought, nor should it be ardentlydesired; await the will of God who has promised it to us, providedthat we first seek the things to which that is accessory. Very often, on the contrary, when, through want of due reflection, preference isgiven to secondary and inferior things, by neglecting solid andhidden virtues for brilliant qualities, neither are obtained. Godpermits this in order to punish this subversion of the moral orderand of the laws that govern it. 

CHAPTER IV. 

THE DIGNITY OF WOMAN. 

POPE ST. LEO, in one of his homilies on the nativity of our Saviour, says, in addressing man: "O man, recognize thy dignity!" We might, with all due propriety, address these same words to woman, for herhappiness and virtues depend in great measure on the elevated ideathat she has of herself, and on the care with which she maintainsthis idea, both in her own mind and in that of others. Woe to thewoman who, through false modesty, or something still worse, has lostself-respect, for she has deprived herself of her most powerfulsafeguard against instability of character and seductions of the world. 

Woman has received from God the sublime mission of fostering insociety the spirit of sacrifice and devotedness. Faithful, nay, sometimes perhaps over-zealous, in the discharge of these duties, shefeels an imperative need of sacrificing herself to another who shouldconstitute the complement of her life. As long as she has not madethis surrender of herself to another she is a burden to herself, forshe seems to find her liberty and happiness in this voluntaryservitude of the heart, in this constant abnegation, in thisperpetual sacrifice of her whole being. 

This disposition of woman's heart, which has been given her for thegood of society and for her own happiness, can be easily used to thedetriment of both; such is necessarily the case the moment she sinksin her own estimation, so as to account herself a being of littlevalue. It is a matter of vital importance to her to have a just ideaof the value of the present she is making when she engages her heartand her fidelity. In fact, when a thing is lightly appreciated, wemake little account of giving it away and less of choosing those towhom we give it. Now, if we consider the deplorable facility withwhich a vast number of women obey the caprice of their heart or oftheir imagination, we will be led to conclude that their valuation ofthem--selves is very low indeed. They seem to lose sight of the factthat in giving their heart they give the key to all the treasuresthat enrich their soul; they give their will, all their thoughts, their whole life. They sometimes give more than all this, they givetheir eternal salvation, their conscience, and God Himself, puttingin His place, by a sort of idolatry, the object that claims theirheart. 

To prevent this deplorable prodigality of themselves, women shouldspare no pains to comprehend thoroughly their dignity, of which theycan never have too high an appreciation or too great an esteem. Itwould be most prejudicial to them to lower in their own mind theirjust value by a false humility. 

The most humble of all women is, at the same time, she who had thebest knowledge of her dignity. And her humility, which was neverequaled by that of any other woman, did not hinder her from seeingthe great things that God had operated in her, as she herselfproclaims in that sublime canticle which is the "Magna Charta" of therights, the prerogatives and the greatness of woman. 

The two most beautiful and most elevated things in all creation arethe intelligence of man and, the heart of woman. They are the specialobjects of God's complacency. He seems to be absorbed in the work oftheir education; to this end he seems to have converged all themiracles wrought by His divine Son, all the mysteries of Jesus Christ. 

To impart to man a knowledge of truth and a love of virtue was theend that God proposed to Himself in the creation of the world. Butthe order which he had established was iniquitously subverted, andthis subversion has shaken society to its very foundation, leadingman's intelligence to conceive a hatred for truth and to become theslave of error; turning away the heart of woman from what is trulygood and great to pander to false and transitory goods, which sullywithout contenting it. 

The heart of woman may be said to be the source from which flows allthe good or evil that consoles or afflicts mankind. As the city andstate receive their form and character from the family, so the familyis modelled after the type of the mother's heart, since upon herdevolves the culture of the infant mind, that all-important educationupon which depends man's weal or woe, both for time and eternity. Hence it is that, while writing this little work, and consideringthat many to whom it is addressed will read its pages, namely thosewho are destined to be one day heads of families, charged with theeducation of several children, who in turn will found numerousfamilies to act a more or less important part in the great movementby which the plan of divine Providence is executed throughout ages, Ifeel a kind of profound respect, bordering on reverential awe, thatengages me to pray God to inspire me with thoughts equal to thesublimity of my subject. 

Whoever you may be that read and meditate this little book, I honorand venerate the dignity of your vocation; I regard you as an augustand sacred being. I admire the great designs that God has over you; Ipray Him to have you participate in the sovereign esteem and respectwith which your condition inspires me. You are as yet free from allengagements, in the bloom of youth, adorned with the treasures ofinnocence and candor, standing like a queen upon the threshold of thefuture which opens before you like a spacious temple. The past isimmaculate and free from the sting of remorse; with a vigorous mindand will you behold the future's perspective without anxiety ordismay, --rich in pious souvenirs, saintly hopes, heavenly thoughtsand merits acquired by prayer and the practice of virtue, ignorant ofvice and its bitter consequences, save by the pictures that have beenpainted in order to inspire you with horror for it; your liberty issuch that every Christian soul envies your happy state. You possess apower--I would almost say, a majesty--that no one can help admiringand revering. As there is no one freer than he who has never been theslave of sin, so there is no man stronger than he who has neversuccumbed to the allurements of pleasure. The woof of your life isthere spread out before you intact and flexible, you can dispose andweave it as you please; you will now find none of those knotty orbroken threads which, in after life, must sometimes be met with. 

You are now at the period of life at which all the roads of lifemeet. You can choose the one that pleases you most, and enter on thegood way with all that generous ardor so natural to youth. But, whatever you do, whatever the choice you may make, you will occasionthe future weal or woe of many, perhaps for many generations. Whetherspouse of Jesus Christ or of man, whether mother of a family or ofthe poor, whether a cloistered nun or a celibate in the world, youwill neither save nor lose your soul alone; the effects of yourvirtues or vices shall be reproduced, long after your departure fromthe scene of life, in the lives of beings yet unborn, in favor ofwhom divine Providence implores your compassion. What a solemnmoment! What sublime power! Have you given it serious thought?

Transport yourself, in thought, to the house of Nazareth, recall tomind the day on which Gabriel proposed to your Queen to become themother of God, asking her consent to the Incarnation, by which was tobe accomplished the salvation of the world. The angel's wordsastonished Mary's humility so far as to make her recoil before such aprodigious elevation, and, to obtain her consent, it was necessary toassure her that the Holy Ghost Himself would accomplish in her thisprodigy. Indeed, it was a most memorable moment in the world'shistory, --a moment wherein the salvation of the entire human racehung upon the word of a virgin's lips. 

Now, in your present condition, at this period of your life, youbear a certain resemblance to the Blessed Virgin at Nazareth, on theday of the Annunciation. A glorious destiny is also announced to you;to you also is promised a saintly posterity, if you give your consentand concurrence to the Holy Ghost, with docility to the operation ofHis grace. Be not astonished at so great an honor. The choice thatyou are going to make, the course that you are going to adopt, willdetermine and fix the fate of a family, of a generation, --of manygenerations perhaps, for God alone can tell how far the influence ofyour virtues or the result of your faults may extend. 

If you have no regard for your own salvation or glory, oh, at leasthave pity for those whom the hand of God will place under your care, to be modeled by your instructions and example. Have compassion onthem and on those who, succeeding them, must inherit your virtues orvices. Oh! how pleasing to God and respected of men is the young ladywho, piously impressed with the greatness of her vocation, preparesfor the future in a Christian manner, and resolves courageously toembrace and faithfully to discharge all its duties. 

Like Mary, the model and glory of your sex, you also, but in aspiritual manner, are carrying Jesus Christ within you; and He, bythe operation of the Holy Ghost, is leaving the impress of Hisvirtues in your soul, that one day you may give Him birthspiritually, producing Him externally by a pure and Christian life. Like her you should be ready to accomplish the will of God in yourown regard, saying, as she did, with sentiments of obedience andprofound humility: "_Behold the handmaid of the Lord, be it doneunto me according to Thy word;_" abandoning your soul with perfectdocility to the operation of the Holy Ghost, following Him whereverHe desires to lead you. Let your soul glorify God, and rejoice in Himon account of the great things He has done in you, remembering thatHis mercy extends from generation to generation, in favor of thosewho fear him, and that holy families, fearing God, are formed by thelessons and examples of virtuous, God-fearing women. He reduces tonaught those who confide in their own power and strength, while Hesustains and exalts the humble. He freely shares His treasures withthose who desire them, and reduces to indigence those who glory intheir own abundance. 

Let this beautiful canticle dwell in your heart and be the prayer ofyour lips; in this canticle, composed by the Mother of God, the honorand glory of your sex, or rather by the Holy Ghost Himself, whoinspired her, He has inscribed all the rights and glories of women, by celebrating in it the power of her feebleness, the greatness ofher humility and of all those modest virtues which so well becomeyour condition. 

A Christian woman who would never lose sight of what she is, of herworth, of her moral capabilities and of her sacred duties, will findin the frequent meditation of this sublime canticle considerationssuggestive of thoughts and sentiments corresponding to God's designsover her. She should nourish her soul with the vivifying substance ofthe words it contains, and look therein for light to dispel herdoubts, and for consolation in her troubles. In them she will alsofind a cheering hope in her languor, a powerful prayer in temptation, an acceptable act of thanksgiving, and a hymn of joy and triumph inher victories. 

CHAPTER V. 

EVE AND MARY. 

PILATE, on presenting to the Jews, Jesus crowned with thorns, andclothed in a purple garment, said: "_Behold the Man!_" Jesusfrequently calls Himself the Son of man in the Gospel, that is, theMan _par excellence_, the Man who is the model and type of allothers. To women, we can also say of Mary: "_Behold the woman!_"the honor, glory, joy, crown, type and model of your sex. Such is themanner in which Jesus presented her from the cross on Calvary, whenHe said to her, a few moments before expiring: "_Woman, behold thySon!_"

It is, indeed, remarkable that the Saviour of the world, whenaddressing Mary in public, did not call her mother, but woman, as if, by that, He would declare to us that she is the model of all otherwomen. It is as if He said to us: Behold THE woman; and, although shewas His mother--principal title of her glory--nevertheless she iswoman before all. She merited to become the most glorious of allmothers only because she had been the purest and holiest of allwomen. You should therefore have your eyes constantly fixed uponMary, as a servant who watches her mistress in order to observe andobey her commands. If you can see yourself in Mary, you willentertain an exalted idea of the dignity of your sex; for it is inher and by her that you are great; it is to her you owe the honor andrespect that the world pays the woman who knows how to respect andappreciate herself according to her just value. If you wouldunderstand all that you owe to Mary in this regard you need butconsider what was the social condition of woman in society before thebirth of Christ, and what her condition is to-day among people onwhom the light of the Gospel has not yet shone. You are now too youngto appeal to your own experience, but, according as you advance inlife, observing closely what passes around you, you will learn--andGod grant that it may not be at your own expense--what an immensedifference there is with regard to the esteem in which woman is heldbetween those who adore God as the Son of Mary, and those who regardher as common with other women. 

Among men of social standing, whose habits, condition and characterare so different, you can easily discern those whose faith disclosesto them a reflection of the glory of Mary in you, from those whobehold in you simply a daughter of Eve. Their conversation, deportment and looks, everything in them, will serve you as an indexto this discernment. It is very difficult for man to disguise hisreal sentiments--dissimulation costs nature too dearly--but there aretwo circumstances wherein his moral character betrays itself in astriking manner, namely, in the presence of God, and in the presenceof woman. It is neither permitted nor possible to a man trulyreligious and chaste to be bold or trivial in presence of either. 

The woman illuminated by the sweet reflections of the glories ofMary, and imitating her virtues according to her state of life, enjoys the singular privilege of commanding the deferential respectof men of the most decided character. In her presence vice is silent, audacity is confounded, virtue, innocence and candor are at ease. Theholy emanations of her heart purify the moral atmosphere around her, imparting to it a sweet and charming serenity, converting the placein which she appears into a kind of sanctuary. 

By a contrary effect, resulting from a want of self-respect, womanbecomes an easy prey to men of vain hearts and frivolous minds, who, not thinking themselves more obliged to respect her than she respectsherself, without any reserve, give expression to the vanity of theirhearts and thoughts. Everywhere and always ignorance or contempt ofthe Christian religion has begot contempt for woman, or disregard forher sacred rights and exalted dignity. Every where and always, irreligion has produced libertinism, the immediate and necessaryeffect of which is a depreciation of woman; and in those countrieswhere the habits and institutions of the people have been deprived ofthe precious culture of Christianity, woman's condition is so abjectthat it differs in nothing from that of the brute, save that in_her_ the sacred rights established by divine Providence aremost shamefully violated. 

That woman is worthy of glory or ignominy is the logical consequenceof her being regarded as a daughter either of Eve or of Mary. In theone she is the poisoned source whence sin with all the evils thatattend it flowed into the world, in the other she is the blessedsource whence the Salvation of the world has issued forth. And, whatshe has been once for the entire human race in the garden of Eden andat Nazareth, she is yet every day for a people, a city, a family, orfor each man in particular, according to the elevation of herposition in society, and the extent of her influence. 

The greater part of Christian nations owe to the prayers andexamples of some holy woman, some pious queen, for instance, thegifts of Christianity and civilization--in this regard France hasbeen, among all nations, singularly fortunate, and the name ofClotilda shall forever be revered in the pages of its history; whileon the other hand, woman has often been instrumental in depriving thechurch of a kingdom, and in plunging into darkness and error a longsuccession of generations. For instances of this we have only torecall the names of Anne Boleyn and her cruel daughter, queenElizabeth. 

Countless numbers are indebted to woman for a knowledge of thetruth, or the misfortune of forsaking it. Is there one who, inrecalling the memories of the past, does not either bless or curse awoman, seeing in her an instrument of God's mercy, or of theseduction of Satan? Is there one who has not realized in that womaneither a daughter of Eve or of the Blessed, Virgin--an Eden or aNazareth? Behold the two poles between which the history of peoplesand the life of each man in particular continually oscillate. Eve andMary these are two guiding stars, either of which man must follow;the light of the one is deceitful and treacherous, while that of theother is true and beneficent; the one leads humanity along the pathsof righteousness, while the other lures to the commission of sin. Hence it is that the church has given Mary those beautiful names, sosignificantly true: "Morning Star!" "Star of the Sea!"

This world is, indeed, like a stormy sea, in which are rocks andshoals, upon which man runs the risk of being wrecked unless he keepshis eyes steadfastly fixed upon this star whose brightness no stormcan dim, and which, at the most perilous moment, shines with greaterbrilliancy, as the cheering sign of grace, hope and happiness. It isby turning our eyes toward Mary with her divine Son in her arms, presenting Him to us as our Saviour, that our troubled souls find thepolar star which will quiet all their movements, and tranquilize thefluttering beatings of our troubled hearts. But, woe to us if, instead of fixing our attention upon Mary, virgin mother of God, weturn to Eve, infected with the contagion of the serpent, and offeringto our hearts the doleful fruit of temptation and sin!

At the entrance to every path that leads to heaven or to the abyssof hell you will find a woman--the image of Mary, at the former, theimage of Eve at the latter. It almost invariably happens that it iswoman who deals out to mankind sin and death like Eve, or life, redemption and salvation like Mary. If you meet with one of theseprivileged men, chosen by God to be an instrument of His mercy, intimately associated with Jesus in the work of the salvation of Hispeople, you may rest assured that this man owes to a woman, to amother or a sister, the development of the great qualities whichdistinguish him. While, on the contrary, if you see one of those mentainted by the curse of some hereditary vice, very often morepernicious than original sin in its effects, you will discover thatits source is the lesson or examples of a woman, whose poisonedinfluence shall oppress generations, just as that of Eve hasoppressed the human race. Once again, I repeat it, that, as thecorrupt and incredulous generation is the offspring of mothersmodeled after Eve, so the holy and faithful generation traces itsorigin to mothers modeled after Mary. 

You must choose between these two models, and on your choice willdepend not only your own happiness and salvation, but also that ofmany yet unborn, whom God will confide to your care, and who will bedear to your heart. There remains no alternative; you will be eithera cause of temptation and sin, or an instrument of grace andbenediction for those who will live with you. You will either offerthem the forbidden fruit like your mother Eve, or you will givespiritual birth to the Word of Life for them. As one of the greatesttorments of the reprobate woman in hell will be to see the woefulmisery into which she has brought those whom she had loved so dearlyupon earth, and to hear the maledictions and reproaches which theyshall hurl against her, so, also, one of the greatest joys of thefaithful woman in heaven, will be to see those whom she sanctified byword and example now grouped around her, crowning her with a diademof glory as a mark of everlasting gratitude. 

Would you deprive your soul of this saintly joy, and condemn it tosuffer the punishment reserved for those women who will be the causeof the ruin and eternal perdition of many? Divine justice shallvindicate itself, even in this life, by making your heart a mostcruel torment to itself, that you may expiate, in agonizing tortureyour infidelity to grace. The cause of your sin shall be the verymeans of your punishment. God will employ, to avenge His outragedhonor and His violated laws, those whom you have turned away fromHim, and who, recognizing in you the cause of their evils, will end, perhaps, by hating you, or, what is still worse, by despising you. Oh, may it never be your sad fate to feel the withering contempt ofthose who have been led away from God by your bad or undue influence, that is, by loving them for _yourself_ and not for _God andthemselves_! Do not, I pray you, store up such bitterness for yourold age, such anguish for your death-bed, since, instead of bitterregrets, you can experience a sweet joy, which is a foretaste ofnever-ending happiness, a special consolation for God's faithfulfriends at that last and dreadful moment when the soul standstrembling on the threshold of eternity; may it be your enviedprivilege to leave after you upon earth souls edified by yourexample, and grateful for the good you have done them. 

CHAPTER VI. 

EVE AND MARY CONTINUED. 

The history of the fall of man, caused by Eve, and of hisrestoration, brought about by Mary, is a subject of graveconsideration for women of serious minds, for women who have at heartthe preservation of the dignity and vocation of their sex. By a closeconsideration of these two models, which furnish the solution to somany enigmas, explaining so many truths and throwing so much lightupon the most obscure and the most profound questions, they willlearn by a short and easy method what they should do, and what theyshould avoid; they will learn how sin has been propagated, the reasonwhy it still exists; they will learn how justice and virtue flourishupon earth, how men turn away from God, and how they return to Him. It was with reason that God allowed sin and justice to attain usthrough the agency of woman, and that her free consent was anecessary condition for both the ruin and the restoration of thehuman race. 

It is therefore an interesting and useful study to consider in theirdetail and most minute circumstances the acts (so extremely opposed)of these two women, for one of them, according to the beautifulexpression of the Church, has restored to us by her divine Son whatthe other had deprived us of by her disobedience. There is in thesetwo facts, so different in their nature and results, a wonderfulgradation which points out to us the fatal declivity by which thehuman heart insensibly sinks to the lowest abyss of evil, or rises tothe highest degree of virtue and glory. In the sin of Eve the firstdegree was a certain intemperance of language, which led her to replyto the insidious questions of the devil; in appearance thisforgetfulness was very slight. To answer a question, give anexplanation requested of you, clear up a doubt, render an account ofa precept of the Lord, seem at first sight something natural andpermitted. It is quite easy to be deceived in this matter. We readilyconvince ourselves that we are actuated by laudable motives in suchlike conversations--motives for gloryfying God and justifying Hisprovidence; but we should be extremely cautious: language issomething august and sacred, for it is the tie that unites the soulto God, and man to his fellow-men, --it is the mysterious knot of allsocieties, divine and human. 

Language establishes between those who speak a more intimaterelation than they are generally aware of. Few persons realize theprodigious transfusion of thoughts, sentiments, influence and lifethat arise from conversation. Have you clearly understood this truthin its full force? Language establishes between souls a very closeand mysterious union, and this is why discretion, prudence andreserve are so necessary in regulating its use. This is why JesusChrist warns us in the Gospel, that we shall render an account of_every idle word_, if indeed we may call idle a thing thatentails such frightful consequences or fatal results. 

If this reserve is necessary for all it is more especially so forwoman, who, being more communicative than man, experiences a greaternecessity to speak--to express herself more freely, and in terms moreexplicit. If women were sincere and impartial judges of themselvesthey for the most part would not fail to recognize that nearly alltheir faults spring from a useless word--an imprudent answer, or anindiscreet question. 

The word why is indeed very short, but in its insidious brevity itcomprises a multitude of things which are all the more dangerousbecause they are unforeseen, being concealed in a perfidious andcloudy vagueness. Why? This word is the beginning of the greater partof those temptations against frailty. The enemy, seeking ourdestruction, almost invariably announces his presence by thiscaptious question, either by the mouth of another or by our own mind, in order to fill the heart with doubt and trouble. Why take such andsuch precautions? Why avoid such a place, such a person, suchcompany? Why renounce such and such amusements? Why neglect or castoff that ornament? Why suffer this or that privation? Why abstainfrom this action, which is not bad in itself? Why turn away the earfrom those praises, those compliments, dictated by usage oretiquette, to keep up that intercourse without which society would beimpossible? Why not read this book, this novel? Why not assist atthis play which the most rigorous moralist would not condemn; andwhich has for its object to inspire horror for vice, by placingbefore our eyes its doleful consequences true to reality? Whyrestrain to inaction the finest faculties of the soul, and refusethem the aliment they so ardently crave? Why deprive our heart andimagination of the pleasures which the beautiful inspires? Why notform at an early age a taste for worldly beauty, and be possessed ofall the resources and advantages that it affords us during life? Whybe mistrustful of the mind and heart, at an age when they stillpossess all their simplicity and freshness, through vain fear whichrenders after-life almost intolerable? Why not be more confiding inthe heart's fidelity and in the goodness of God, who has notcondemned man to constant privations?--Such is the language that theenemy of our eternal salvation and happiness addresses us every daywith such perfidious adroitness; and who, spite of the experience ofthose whom he has already deceived, deceives us every day. 

This language is the more perfidious for being apparently truthfuland natural. When there is question of corrupting a heart that is yetvirtuous, vice conceals itself under the mantle of virtue, asotherwise its efforts would be powerless. Now, we can safely say thatits venom has already tainted the young lady's heart, when, throughinattention and want of vigilance, she has suffered doubt to broodover any of those obligations which are so delicate and difficult todetermine, and, nevertheless, most grave and important, since theyentail, when neglected, the most disastrous results. Firmness ofmind, assurance in her convictions, a clear and strong consciousnessof duty, are to her indispensable qualifications; and when shesuffers this tenor of conduct to be interfered with by imprudentlyreplying, like Eve, to a captious question, the peace and innocenceof her heart are certainly threatened. 

The young girl's innocence is something that is very imperfectlyknown; the delicate and almost imperceptible shades that reflect itsbeauty and which render it delightful to God and His angels, escapethe general notice of mankind. It is composed of a chaste ignoranceof mind, a great simplicity of heart, and a constant and unwaveringfirmness of will. Now, what merits our greatest attention is the factthat this firmness of will begins to give way in woman the moment sheremoves, even by a slight doubt, this precious veil of ignorancewhich protects her virtue, or when, by an indiscreet question, or animprudent answer, she exposes the simplicity of her heart. 

The virtues which adorn the heart of a young lady are concealed fromher own knowledge. God has so enveloped her in mystery that He aloneunderstands her. None other save the penetrating eye of God shouldlook into the sanctuary of her heart. None other than His lightshould shine in this holy and chaste obscurity, and this is whyhumility, of which we have found so perfect a model in Mary, shouldbe the necessary shield and guarantee of a young lady's innocence. She ought not to have the slightest misgivings relative to the valueof the treasure she possesses or the loss she would sustain in losingit. 

The presence of an angel sufficed to trouble Mary. Oh, young ladiesshould meditate well and frequently on the conduct that Mary observedin this interview, and imitate her example! She did not answer theAngel's words, but she observed an humble and modest silence. Not sowith Eve who, without reflection, answered the devil's question, andby this first reply began a conversation the issue of which hasproved so disastrous to the whole human race. Learn from this two-foldexample, and from the effects so different which have resultedfrom both, how much you should fear Eve's curiosity in yourself, andwith what care and assiduity you should labor to imitate the reserveand silence of Mary. 

Curiosity is a most dangerous rock for a young lady, --this is therock upon which a countless number of your sex and age have beenwrecked. The moment that you pander to the desire of knowingeverything, you immediately enter on a most dangerous way, the issueof which is at least precarious. It was for having satisfied thisdesire that Eve opened the door to all the calamities that afflictand will afflict mankind till the end of time. And, since then, ithas caused the ruin of a countless number of women. 

Intrench, so to speak, your mind in the citadel of your own heart. Let it repose in the holy obscurity of an humble and docile faith, and you will learn more useful things in this way than you could everlearn even from the best books and the most eloquent instructions. Faith and prayer should be the daily food of your soul. Faith, withits imperfect yet celestial light, will meet all the legitimate wantsof your mind; and prayer, with its divine unction, will embalm yoursoul. 

Often turn your eyes toward heaven, and earth will soon lose all itsattractions. Converse frequently with God and you will find it easierto dispense with the intercourse of men; keep your mind at a remotedistance from all worldly knowledge, and the innocence of your heartwill enjoy sweet repose. Seek not to anticipate by an indiscreetprecipitancy the time when the realities of life shall open out toyour view. Perhaps, more than once you will regret the happinesswhich you now enjoy, and which is due both to your knowledge andignorance of things. 

In reality, you possess by faith the same knowledge that the blessedhave in heaven, that knowledge which has been the object of thestudy, research and love of the most renowned minds and of the mostperfect souls in this world. Faith, elevating you above yourself andall earthly things, leads you to regions to which the mostdistinguished genius, joined to the most profound and perseveringstudy, can never approach. Faith makes you in a certain way thesister of angels and of men, --of men who have been the mostremarkable on earth for their excellent qualities of head and heart. Faith associates you with the glorious choirs of heaven, and, whentruly lively and active, will bring you unalloyed felicity andineffable joy. 

Why should you envy those women, who, for being older than you, havegained by experience a knowledge of things that you should stillignore? Why seek to compare their knowledge with that which youpossess? The knowledge that you have obtained by faith has cost yourmind no effort--not a single regret to your heart, no remorse to yourconscience. Every step that you make in this illuminated way recallsto your mind a sweet and precious souvenir, the pure reflections ofwhich will be the only light that will dispel the gloom of the trialsand anguish of life. It shall be very different with regard to whatyou must learn in time to come. Experience is a severe teacher, whoselessons are dearly bought; this is clearly and forcibly expressed bythe Holy Ghost saying: "He that adds something to the knowledgealready acquired, adds at the same time new pains to those he alreadysuffers. "

So far you have learned the one thing necessary to man, and whichmeets all his wants: you have learned how to please God, to love andserve Him by the observance of His commandments, and fidelity to hisinspirations, acknowledging and honoring His authority and power overyou in your parents, who are, in your regard, His representatives. Sothat at present duty possessing pleasing attractions offers none ofthose difficulties which, at a later period of life, will render itoftentimes painful. Your virtues, protected by that reserve which theworld itself has imposed upon youth, guarded by the vigilance of atender and careful mother, aided by her examples, encouraged by herexhortations and love, tranquilly grow up in the modest sanctuary ofthe family, without the remotest idea of the trials they must one daymeet with. 

To learn what pertains to faith and salvation, good will suffices. We are always sure to succeed in pleasing God when we are sincerelydesirous to serve Him; in this regard we can never anticipate Him. Not so with the science which teaches how to please men and securetheir good will or favor, to enter into their views, conform to theirlaws and customs. No matter how great our desire may be to succeed, we are never sure of success, and very often the efforts made tosecure it remove us farther from the desired end. Consequently, veryoften the surest means of securing the esteem of the world is todespise it, and withdraw from its tyranny. If you fail to disengageyourself from it, and if you wish to servilely adhere to its maxims, you will often experience that they are severe and hard; and you willreproach yourself more than once for having desired in your youth totaste of those fruits, externally so beautiful but internally sobitter. 

Hence, moderation of the mind's curiosity is necessary, and in orderto satisfy its activity apply it to those things that can be ofinterest to your conscience and salvation, to the knowledge and studyof those sublime truths which, while enlightening your intelligence, will elevate your heart and strengthen your will. The knowledge thatyou will acquire in this way will serve you for the rest of yourlife, much more than all the profane and useless books that you canread. Accustom your mind to the love and search of serious things;this will prove to be of invaluable utility to you. 

There is little consistency in frivolous things, and those, who havefed their souls upon them during youth, find themselves void andabandoned when they arrive at the age when woman can please only byinteresting the mind and heart by solid charms and tried virtue. Thisis the age which you should constantly keep before your mind, becauseit is the one that lasts the longest, and which disposes usproximately for that awful moment in which our fate will be decidedforever. Endeavor to become at an early age what you should be duringthe greater part of your life, and what you would desire to have beenat the hour of death. 

CHAPTER VII. 

THE WORLD. 

The world is like some objects which, when seen from afar, deceivethe eyes and allure the imagination; but on approaching or touchingthem their charms vanish. It is like those carcasses that retain theform of a human body as long as they are buried in the obscurity ofthe tomb, but which, on being exposed to the air, are immediatelyreduced to dust. Those who are separated from it without having everknown it are exposed to be deceived by its perfidious allurements;and those who, in order to know it, with a view of despising it, desire to mingle in its feasts and pleasures, run a greater danger offalling a victim to the seductions and corruption of its charms. --How, then, shall you secure the advantage and escape the danger?

By shunning the world, you secure your heart and conscience againstits seductions; but this evasion, leaving you to consider it from aremote standpoint exposes your mind to prejudices favorable to it, and which, later, might become for you the source of many errors andof many faults. How shall you surmount this twofold difficulty? Onthe one hand you cannot mingle with the world without danger, and onthe other hand it will not do for you to ignore its dangers whichmust be known in order to be avoided. This dilemma would be of noconsequence to a frivolous and unreflecting soul, or to a vain andpresumptuous mind, which, confiding in its own powers, believes thatit has a good knowledge only of what it sees and experiences; andcounts for naught the teachings of faith and the experience of thosewho have gone before. 

Let not this be your case, but, listening with an humble and docileheart to the teachings of faith, reason and experience, learn to knowthe world and its dangers while your age and condition still shieldyou from its seductions. Of all the means by which divine Providenceenlightens our minds here below, divine faith, as you are aware, isthe purest, the brightest and the most reliable, --not only because itcomes from God, but because it is presented to us by an authoritywhich He has established, and which, by His special assistance, Hepreserves from all error. 

Sacred Scripture, interpreted and explained to you by this authorityis, therefore, the great source to which you must have recourse forthe knowledge of the things you _should_ know. Now you will findthat there is hardly a single page of those sacred writings in whichthere is not a malediction pronounced against the world, and awarning for you to avoid its siren charms. You will find in thegospel according to St. John its true character described by JesusChrist Himself, who, being the Incarnate Wisdom, could not have anyother than the most perfect idea of things according to their justvalue. 

In the first place, it is certain, according to this Apostle, thatwhen the Eternal Word came into the world it knew Him not; when Jesuswished to make the Jews feel the confusion of their own blindness, and see the reason of their opposition to His doctrine, He said: Youare from beneath, I am from above, you are of this world, I am not ofthis world, therefore, I say to you that you shall die in your sins. (John viii. 23, 24. ) Could there be anything more explicit incondemnation of the world? It has its origin and the throne of itspower in the lower regions of the earth, while the kingdom of Godresides in the sublime abode of the human heart. 

When He promised His disciples that He would send them the Spirit ofTruth, to console them, He gave as the distinctive mark by which theywould know the Holy Spirit, that the world could not receive Himbecause it has no knowledge of Him. Hence the opposition that existsbetween the world and the spirit of the New Law is so great that anycompromise is impossible. The world is absolutely incompetent toreceive or understand the spirit of Jesus Christ. Another fact willrender this manifest opposition still more palpable. When Jesusaddressed His eternal Father that beautiful prayer preceding Hisagony and passion, He excluded the world by a positive act of Hiswill, in order to give all to understand that the world could neverhave any share with Him. "_I pray not for the world but for themwhom thou hast given me. The world hath hated them because they arenot of the world as I also am not of the world. _" (John xvii. 9, 14. )

St. Paul interprets these words in that energetic style socharacteristic of his writings, when he says to the Corinthians that"we have not received the spirit of this world whose wisdom is follybefore God. " Now shall you adopt as the rule of your conduct andjudgment a wisdom which God has not only reproved, but even brandedwith the stigma of folly? According to the same Apostle the worldproves by its own words that its knowledge is stupidity, since it cansee nothing but folly in the cross. The maxims, ideas, judgments, conduct and habits of the world and those of the flock that Jesuscame to save are so contradictory, their language is so different, that the wise of the one are fools with the other; and the thingsregarded as the most sublime by the former are to the latterpreposterous absurdities. The reason is simply because the one hasits origin, light and end in heaven, while the other draws them fromthe earth. 

Now, if, in order to verify these words of the Sacred Scriptures, you take a view of the doctrine of the world and of that of JesusChrist, and compare them, you will not find a single point in the onethat is not in direct contradiction to the other; so that, by theGospel, you are enabled to discover the maxims of the world, and_vice versa_. You may rest assured that what is recommended andsought for by the one is censured and despised by the other. St. Paul, speaking to the Galatians, says; that "if he was still pleasingto men he would not be the servant of Jesus Christ. "

If this be the case, you will say, why remain in the world? Is itnot every one's duty to leave it as soon as possible and abandon itto its own corruption? Let the words of our divine Lord answer: "_Ido not pray you to remove them from the world, but I pray you topreserve them from evil. _" Our peace of conscience in this life, and the joys of heaven hereafter require separation from the worldand opposition to its maxims. But this separation is one of mind andheart, which consists in a manner of thinking, judging and actingentirely opposed to that of the world. Man ceases to belong to theworld the moment he has ceased to make it the arbitrator of hisconduct and judgment, and when he has freed himself from itsprejudices, caprices and tyranny. Behold what religion requires ofyou, and what alone will insure you happiness in this life and in thenext. 

Now, what is this world from which we must separate in order to leada Christian life? In any society, that we wish to study with a viewto obtain a knowledge of its nature and objects, we may considereither the laws by which it is governed, or the body of men whocompose it and who are governed by these laws. 

Considered from the first point of view, the world consists in itsown maxims, laws, customs and judgments, which are in opposition tothe letter and spirit of the Gospel; and which tend to withdraw thesoul from the love of spiritual things, or at least to create in hera dislike for them. 

Considered from the second point of view, the world comprises a massof men who profess its maxims, adopt its usages, obey its laws, andyield to its judgments. 

The world thus considered entails a twofold obligation for you, oneof which can never admit of any exception or dispensation, while theobservance of the other must be always regulated by prudence andcharity. Indeed the world, considered in its maxims, should be foryou an object of constant aversion and contempt, because it is thearch enemy of Jesus Christ and of the spirit that He communicates toHis true disciples. This is the world that you renounced on the dayof your baptism; and the solemn engagement that you then made was thefirst and most important of all those that you have made, or willmake, during life. 

But, while it is never permitted you to adopt the maxims of theworld, charity, prudence, and the consideration due to your position, age and family, will not allow you to effectively isolate yourselffrom those who have adopted its maxims as the rule of their actionsand judgments. In this you should conform to all that due decorumrequires, and endeavor to preserve your mind and heart against thepernicious influences often communicated by words, actions, lessonsor examples of those who are slaves of the laws or customs of theworld. The danger is the more imminent inasmuch as the sunny sideonly of the world is displayed to you; while no pains are spared onthe part of those bound to you by the most sacred ties to engage youto adopt their views and imitate their example. This is certainly oneof the most delicate positions in which a young lady can be placed, when her only arms of defense are the uprightness of her mind, theinnocence of her heart and the purity of her instincts. 

St. Bernard says, "to serve God is to reign. " By a contradictoryassertion, we can safely say, to serve the world is to be a slave;and of all servitudes there is none so hard nor so humiliating asthat which the world imposes upon those who yield to its empire. IfGod were so exacting as the world, so inflexible in the laws that Heimposes upon us, so severe in the chastisements by whichdelinquencies are punished, piety would be an insupportable burdenthrough the weakness of the greater part of men; and God would findvery few worshipers who would be willing to submit to such an ordeal. 

What is most remarkable and worthy of compassion is the fact that, very often, those who groan the most under this slavery are at thesame time those who support it with the greatest resignation. 

To suffer for a genuine duty, for a generous sentiment, for a nobleor grand idea, is something which the human heart can, not onlyaccept, but even love and choose with a certain pride; but to sufferfor the sake of worldly etiquette, for the sake of fashion, forthings and parsons despised for their tyranny, is a deplorablehumiliation for those who do it. And, nevertheless, the greater partof those who might be called world-worshipers, who seem to give itthe _tone_, bear patiently its yoke, which debases them in theirown eyes, --pandering to necessities which they have imprudentlycreated, and from which they now find it impossible to free themselves. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

THE SAME SUBJECT CONTINUED. 

IF the life of a woman of the world were proposed as a model, and, after having carefully examined all her occupations, you woulddiscover what would be hard for you to be convinced of before havingdone so, namely: that there are women so inconsiderate as to feasttheir minds on such frivolities, so forgetful of their dignity as tomake it subservient to such misery, so trifling as to make a seriouswork of _bag itelles_, which at most can be considered as littlebetter than childish amusement; your soul, still rich in itsprimitive candor, and favored with an energy tempered in the love andhabit of virtue, would revolt at the thought of such debasement. And, nevertheless, unless you apply your mind to acquire a love forserious matters you will not escape a disorder which you so justlydeplore in others; you will be captured in those windings which haveproved fatal fastnesses to women of other days. There remains nochoice between these two alternatives: you must either found yourconduct upon intelligence enlightened by faith, or abandon it, like arudderless ship, to the caprice of passion and pleasure. 

The life of a worldly woman is a fictitious life: nature seems tohave no attractions for her; her soul has lost all taste for itscharms; she studiously endeavors to shut out its influences, and tosubvert as much as possible the order by which it is governed. Thisestrangement, this disgust with nature, haunts her wherever she goes, even in the making of her toilet, even in the employment of her time. She converts day into night and night into day, giving to pleasurethe time destined for repose; she purloins from the industrious hoursof day the sleep and rest for which her wearied limbs and excitedimagination contend. 

While she is sleeping, the humble daughter of St. Benedict or St. Dominic leaves her cell to sing the praises of the Lord, and offerHim the day with its duties consecrated without reserve to His glory. When heavy curtains screen her restless slumber from the sun'sobtrusive light, the pious daughter of St. Vincent de Paul descendsinto the folds of her own heart in meditation, and enkindles in thefire of divine love the charity with which she must cheer the poor orsick whom she is destined to visit during the day. 

What a difference between those two lives! The worldling risesrested, but not from a refreshing sleep, she is aroused perhaps bythe importunate rays of the mid-day sun or by the noisy tramping ofhardy workmen who, after their half day's work is done, return hometo partake of a frugal repast and receive the sweet greetings of aChristian family. It is then that her day begins, as also the seriesof the _grave_ occupations that are destined to fill it. Thetime is short and scarcely suffices to prepare herself for theevening amusements; all her energies are now employed to give herselfthat external grace and charm necessary to render her conspicuous inthe joyous circle. Alas! the worldly woman is entirely absorbed inherself, and when she does something for others, it is with a view tosecure her own interest or pleasure. That devotedness, that generoussacrifice and disinterestedness characteristic of true friendship isto her a mere paradox, as she is an entire stranger to its effectsand charms. 

After her toilet, her most serious occupations are the visits whichshe pays and receives. A visit prompted by charity or some othervirtue is good, highly commendable and praiseworthy. I admire andunderstand the woman who leaves the peaceful company of her family, when no pressing need requires her presence, to go and visit the poorand destitute, in order to sweeten their bitter lot by a word ofencouragement or a little alms. I understand and admire her whoreadily sacrifices her legitimate joy in order to go and mingle hertears with those of her friend and mitigate her sorrow or share itwith her. I understand and esteem the woman who, impressed by thesuperior wisdom and exemplary piety of another woman, goes to her foradvice, devoting with pleasure her leisure hours to that end. I seein all these circumstances a motive that is serious, honorable, praiseworthy, and capable of acting upon a noble heart and anelevated intelligence. But, among the visits made by worldly women;how few there are that are prompted by such motives! The greater partof those women visit with no other view than to pass the time, topander to their own vanity and curiosity, to form or execute someintrigue. What is said and done in their visits is worthy of themotive that inspires them. There is not a single serious thoughtexpressed, not a single word to show that these women have anintelligence capable of comprehending the truth, a heart made to lovewhat is good, or a soul capable of receiving God Himself. If lifewere but a dream, if there be no hereafter, if at death the soul mustperish with the body; and man must sink into the nothingness whencehe sprang; they would have nothing to change in their visits, conversations and conduct. 

There is a visit celebrated in Holy Writ, a visit paid by a youngwoman to one of her own sex but more advanced in years, a visit soholy and renowned that its anniversary is celebrated throughout theChristian world, --it is the visit paid by the Blessed Virgin to hercousin St. Elizabeth. O, Christian ladies, behold your true model!Compare this visit with yours, and judge yourselves according to it. Compare your motives with those of Mary. Compare your conversationswith that sublime conversation of which the sacred writer has givenus a fragment, being the most sublime canticle that has ever beenuttered by any intelligent creature under the action of divineinspiration. Oh, what a world-wide difference between this sublimecanticle and the light and frivolous conversations in which so manywomen indulge; if you were to look for the reverse of this heavenlyvisit you would invariably find it among the visits paid by worldlywomen. 

Mary carries with her the Son of God, the Author of grace, thePrinciple of eternal life, the Source of chaste desires and holyhopes. The worldly woman carries with her in her visits the spirit ofthe world, the spirit of deception, egotism and folly, which is inevery way opposed to the spirit of Christianity. Mary sings thepraises of humility and proclaims it the virtue beloved of God, --thevirtue which secures His love and assistance; she extols thehappiness of those who thirst for justice and truth, deploring at thesame time the spiritual poverty and indigence of those who are puffedup with self-conceit. The worldly woman, on the contrary, seeks inher conversations to flatter her vanity and pride by parading theempty resources of her imagination and misguided intelligence. Sheenvies the happiness of those who, rich in beauty and all thosequalities that charm, draw many admirers around them. Elizabeth, onbeholding her cousin, felt her infant leap for joy. The worldly womanstirs up in the hearts of those whom she visits the most frivolousinstincts, and sometimes even the worst passions. 

This tableau excites your love and disgust. The comparison frightensyou; and perhaps in the simplicity of your heart you will say, it isnot free from exaggeration. On the contrary, you will be sadlydisappointed when, at a more advanced age, you will clearly see thatthis is a very mild and subdued picture of what is true and real. Your age and innocence do not allow me to reveal to you all themysteries of sin--all the snares, all the dangers, all thefrivolities that fill up the days of a worldly woman. 

Would that what I have said of her may inspire you with salutaryhorror for her life; and make you shun the snares in which she hasbeen taken! I pray that you, satisfied with the knowledge you have ofher follies, may never feel the desire of adding to what you alreadyknow, the fatal knowledge imparted by experience! That you may neverforget these words of St. John: _Love not the world, nor the thingswhich are in the world; for all that is in the world is theconcupiscence of the flesh and the concupiscence of the eyes and thepride of life. _ (I John ii. 15-16. )

CHAPTER IX. 

THE WILL. 

St. John, the Apostle, addressing those who have not yet passed theage of adolescence, says in his first Epistles: _"I write unto you, because ... You have overcome the wicked one. "_ Then speaking tothose who have attained the age of manhood, he says: _"I write toyou, young men, because you are strong, and the word of God abidethin you, and you have overcome the wicked one. "_ Again, in the bookof Proverbs, chapter xxxi, the inspired writer speaks in thefollowing terms: "_who shall find a valiant woman? The price of heris as of things brought from afar off, and from the uttermost coasts ... She hath put out her hand to strong things ... Strength andbeauty are her clothing; and she shall laugh in the latter day, shehath opened her mouth to wisdom and the law of clemency is on hertongue.... Favor is deceitful, and beauty is vain; the woman thatfeareth the Lord, she shall be praised. Give her of the fruit of herhands; and let her works praise her in the gates. _"

Thus, according to Holy Writ, fortitude or strength is the portionof youth, which is manifested by the victories of the will over theenemy of our salvation. This valor is regarded by the sacred writeras one of the finest qualities with which woman can be adorned, sinceshe owes to it all her true success and glory. Now what is thisprecious quality? In what faculty of the soul does it reside? Whatare the signs by which its presence is made manifest? What is the endto which it tends? What are the rewards that crown its victories?These are questions of deep interest, and the importance attached toa knowledge of their solution cannot be too great. 

In the first place we shall begin by stating that the seat of valoris found in the will. To be valiant consists in willing intenselywhat is painful to nature, accomplishing what is proposed with energyand perseverance. I have often treated this subject, but it is soinexhaustible that it always seems new. Its importance grows withtime, and now-a-days it cannot be insisted on too much, nor can therebe too much attention paid to it by those who wish to preserve inthis world the integrity of their conscience and lead anirreproachable life. 

Alas it is painful to avow that this generous will is too rarely metwith. This noble faculty of the soul is made subservient to otherfaculties which should be subject to and directed by it. The mind hasperhaps acquired greater vivacity and penetration. The imagination, under the action of a constant change of images, and those sensationswhich the activity of life multiplies so rapidly in our time, hasperhaps become richer and more varied. The heart, cherished whileyoung by the cares and caresses common to the paternal roof, hasperhaps more confidence and candor. But the will, what has become ofit, what has it gained by this development of all the powers of thesoul? Where is its place among them? It should be their ruler, whereas it is made their slave; they have conspired its overthrow. 

It is true that very often the enfeebling of this great faculty isdue to the excessive tenderness of those who have allowed us tocontract pernicious habits. Who is it that speaks to the child'swill? Who teaches him how to use that faculty and resist with energythe caprices of his imagination, the passions of the heart, theempire of the senses, the seductions of the world? These are dutiesthat the will is called on to discharge, and as long as man shalllive such duties will be of daily occurrence, --hence the will isdestined to be constantly called into action. 

The will serves us when all the other faculties fail to act. Whenthe exhausted imagination sinks into a lethargic slumber; when theworried heart loses all relish for everything; when the mind, dreading the light of truth, gives itself over to error andprejudice; when the smoke of passion blinds the intelligence andsuffocates the senses; it is then that the will, fashioned in theschool of pliant energy, seizing the reins with a firm and vigorousgrasp, snatches the imagination from its torpor by bringing it tobear on objects capable of arousing it; it is then that the willanimates the heart with generous and noble sentiments, and appliesthe mind to the consideration of truths which enlighten and fortify it. 

There exists a strange abuse relative to the nature and essence ofthe will. Very often, parents, blinded by a false prejudice, see withpleasure, and admire in their children, stubbornness and obstinacy ofcharacter; and, looking forward to their future with an air of pride, they say: "That child will have a strong will. " Deplorable error! Woeto the parents who fall into it, and the children who are its object!When the will is truly strong, far from being obstinate it is, on thecontrary, pliant and tractable. No human power can restore supplenessto the arm which a convulsive paroxysm has stiffened, yet it does notfollow that this arm is stronger than when it was in a healthycondition. The stiffness, far from increasing its strength, decidedlyweakens it. In like manner the will's strength does not lie instubborn obstinacy, but rather in that pliancy which enables it todispose itself as circumstances may require. 

A stubborn character has nothing in common with this noble andprecious faculty of the soul. And, like all the others, this facultypossesses two degrees of elevation; in the one it comes in directcontact with the senses and, the external world; and in the other, raised above all sensibility, it receives its light and movement fromon high. 

The will, taken in its inferior part, is nothing else than thatappetite or blind instinct which we hold in common with the brutecreation; and by which animals are governed in their choice of somethings and their rejection of others. If the will, properly socalled, consisted in this blind instinct, man would be inferior tothe ass and the mule, whose attractions and repugnances are moreimperious than those of other animals. The will, as understood in thetrue Christian sense of the term, acts in contradiction to thisbrutal appetite; hence they alone have a strong will who can, whenduty and conscience require it, obey their voice with docility, inspite of all instinctive opposition. 

The education of the will, I admit, is a long and painful process. We are taught at a dear rate how to _know_ and _judge_ things;but we must learn at a dearer price how to _will_. The cultureof the mind is the least important and the easiest part of oureducation, while the culture of the will is extremely importantand demands much time and labor; yet, through a most culpablenegligence, it is just the faculty that receives the least attentionand culture. Too many imagine that the training of the will may bedone at any time and, what is still more erroneous, that age, experience and events will suffice to do this work. Hence we seeevery day poor souls entering the scene of life without an educatedwill, which alone is capable of reacting against the evils and trialsfrom which none in this world can escape. This is the cause of thatimbecility which renders the most precious qualities of mind andheart useless; generating inconsistencies and uncertainties which, inthe moment of trial, deprive the heart of its energy and the mind ofall light, thus leaving the soul open to all the assaults ofmisfortune. 

We are obliged to chronicle a painful truth when we assert that theculture of the will is sadly neglected in education in general, butmore especially so in that of women. There are even some so blind asto think that a strong will in woman is a dangerous quality, alleging, as a proof of their assertion, the puerile reason, thatsince woman was made to obey she should find in another's will therule of her actions. But, we ask, if woman can have no will of herown, how can she exercise the virtue of obedience, since that virtueconsists in bending the will to duty? And since, in her sphere, sheis constantly called on to practice obedience it is just the reasonwhy she should have a strong will. 

Now if from a tender age she has not given due attention to thisprecious faculty of her soul; if she has contracted the fatal habitof acting without a purpose, without reflecting, through caprice, following by a blind instinct the allurements that flatter the sensesand imagination; if she has not learned to conquer herself, to putduty before pleasure, and the voice of conscience above that of thepassions and honor; how will she be able to live with a husbandcapricious perhaps in his desires and stubborn in his will? How willshe be able to confront his exactions or cope with his rage? How willshe bear with the faults of her servants and of those with whom shemay be obliged to live? How will she, in her warnings and reproachesbe able to blend in a just proportion mildness and firmness, toobtain the salutary effects which she desires?

The path of life is not strewn with flowers; all is not joy andhappiness here below. Woman is destined, as well as man, to meet withdays of sorrow and bitterness, when a firm, patient will must be heronly port of safety. To woman patience is, perhaps of all virtues, the most necessary to sustain her in mental anxieties and variousother sufferings that are inevitable; and, since patience is a fruitof the will, it follows that a morbid will cannot produce an enduringpatience, the deficiency of which must render her life almostintolerable. 

He that sails with the current and a favorable wind need not ply hisoars; but when there is question of going in the contrary direction, what was at first a great advantage becomes now a doubledisadvantage, and he can succeed only by strenuous efforts. 

During the days of youthful glee you glide gaily down the river oflife, going with the current, favored by the breeze of hope, charmedby varied and softly-changing scenes. But this time will soon have anend: sorrow will embitter your joys ere the frost of age shall havecooled the blood or chilled the imagination; very soon, in a fewyears, perhaps, it will knock at the door of your soul; and you willbe obliged to give this inopportune visitor admittance, to remainwith you, perhaps, for the rest of your life. Among the young ladiesof your acquaintance are there not some who are unhappy? And can you, without a voluntary illusion, convince yourself that youth is apreservative against misfortune? Are you prepared to ward off theintruder? If it wounds you how will you endure the pain? It isimprudent to delay the acquisition of a particular branch of learninguntil its practical use becomes necessary; and since it is while weare hale and hearty that we should learn to die well, so it is whileprosperity smiles on us that we should learn to bear adversity. Learnnow, while young, to support all the vicissitudes of life; maketimely provision, not only against adversity, but also againstprosperity, which for many is the more dangerous of the two. 

Prepare to meet not only those who will try your patience by theirunjust or troublesome doings, but also those whose affectionofficiousness, and flattery, will perhaps exact from you a greaterexercise of virtue. Be on your guard, not only against others, butalso against yourself. Learn to bear with yourself, to suffer withcourage the inconstancy of your own humor, the nights of yourimagination, the impetuosity of your character, the violent andinordinate movements of your heart. Accustom your will to wield thescepter and resolutely to govern the passions, which are mostpowerful auxiliaries for good or for evil, --for good when under thecomplete control of the will, for evil when they are emancipated fromits sway, for then they become the vultures of life, and a torment ofthe soul. 

Never lose sight of the fact that you require a stronger will toobey than to command, and that your condition, far from renderingyour will less necessary, shows, on the contrary, that it isindispensable to you; unless, by indorsing that unjust and outrageousjudgment by which the world seeks to degrade the dignity of woman, you force upon yourself the conviction that her will should count fornothing either at home or abroad, --that she is destined to be blindlyled by the caprices of others; unless you confound obedience withservitude, and authorize the prejudices of those who pretend thatwoman should have neither thought nor will of her own, but thatanother is charged with thinking and willing for her, thusexonerating her from all responsibility. 

If this be your conviction, I ask: "Why do you read this book? Closeit, it is not written for you; because from the first page to thelast it constantly discloses to your view all the titles of yourglory and the grandeur of your dignity. Close your eyes to the lightof truth, shackle the will's liberty lest you may see and feel theshame and humiliation of your sad condition; and, like a thing inert, await in dumb silence until some trafficker may come and calculatehow much he will gain in fortune and pleasure by purchasing you!"Behold the deplorable condition to which the pagan theories of theworld reduce woman! behold the degree of abjection to which sheherself descends when, losing sight of the light of faith, whichexposes the true nature of things, she suffers herself to be deceivedby the vain systems of a world worthy of God's anathemas, andgoverned by the spirit of deception. 

No, woman has not been created to be a slave; God has neitherdestined nor consigned to such a humiliating state that half ofhumanity from which He has chosen His mother, and which has beenfavored with a holy reflection of the glory of Mary. God required apositive act of woman's will in her co-operation in the work of ourredemption, --and to obtain it He did not hesitate to choose as Hisambassador, one of the brightest of His archangels. Judge from thisthe respect and importance due to woman's will. Moreover, it is asignificant truth, sustained by a long experience, that the salvationof a family, of a father, a brother, a son, a husband, is secured ina great measure by the care and prayers, the firm and wise, yet mildand prudent conduct of a Christian woman, deeply penetrated with theprofound sentiment of her dignity and the true importance of herduties, --all of which depend upon a firm and patient will. 

CHAPTER X. 

THE IMAGINATION. 

The imagination, that active agent of the senses, is the bee which, in its continual excursions, gathers from the flower-cups the sweetscented dust from which, by due process, it forms the wax that givesus light and the honey that nourishes us. Your soul is like abee-hive, full of activity and life. The external world is like aflower-garden, in which each flower has its peculiar color, perfumeand brightness. Your imagination is the working bee of this hive, which resounds with the humming of the senses. The will governs anddirects all with perfect harmony, when peaceful order reigns in allits workings. But the moment that the will fails to discharge theduties of its office, the imagination and the senses, like beesdeprived of their queen, wander hither and thither without anydetermined purpose, and the hive is abandoned to inaction or disorder. 

It is of paramount importance to you to have a clear knowledge ofthe nature, end and functions of all the faculties of your soul; sothat you may keep them within the province that God has allotted tothem, and that no disorder may arise from the attempted encroachmentsof some upon others. This point becomes one of grave importance whenthere is question of _the imagination_, because it is the mostrash, most ambitious, most violent and at the same time, the mostseductive, of all the faculties. 

Holding an intermediate place between the soul and the senses, it isthe most accessible to the charms of the external world, andparticipates in the inconstant and tumultuous movements of our ownsensibility. Confined to its own sphere of action, it is a preciousauxiliary, which often facilitates the perception of the truth, andthe accomplishment of good, by presenting them to the mind and heartunder colors that render them amiable and attractive. When properlyemployed, it is an invaluable gift of God, who has given it to us toaid the infirmity of our nature, by rendering less painful theefforts that we are so often obliged to make in order to triumph overour bad inclinations. But when we fail to make a proper use of it, itthen becomes for us a source of danger, and a great obstacle to ouradvancement towards perfection. 

Placed between the will and the senses, it should neither becontrolled by the latter nor emancipated from the sway of the former. The faithful observance of this condition can alone insure us all theadvantages we may hope to derive from it. Should it prove to be afrequent cause of mischief to us it is because we let it actindependently of the will's control--in which case it is sure tobecome the slave of the senses. Separated from the intelligence, fromwhich it receives light, and from the will, which points out itscourse of action, the imagination is a blind instinct, precipitous inits movements, impetuous and inconstant in its flights, violent andcapricious in its pursuits. It is in constant agitation and torment, passing from one object to another, jumping with a single bound fromone extreme to another, from sorrow to joy, from love to hate, fromfear to hope. 

It magnifies or diminishes things according to the caprice of themoment; and gives a color of sovereign importance to things which inreality are the merest trifles; a word, a look, a sign preoccupiesand alarms it; it feasts on suspicion and anxiety, fictitious hopesand deceitful reports; it seizes with avidity on the things thatplease it, but scarcely is it in possession of the sought for objectswhen it abandons them with disgust. Hence the impressions to which itgives rise are as whimsical and as inconstant as itself; they appearand disappear in the soul without any apparent reason for theirpresence or absence. 

The woman, whose imagination has been developed at the expense ofher other faculties, may be said to lead a dreamy, fictitious, contentious and agitated life. This state is rendered still moredangerous by the agreeable forms which it assumes, and which flatterthe mind and senses by their rapid and constant changes. Hence it isthat women endowed with this doleful gift have the sad privilege ofdrawing around them persons of volatile minds and inconstant hearts. They invariably finish by becoming the dupes of their own fickleimpressions, and are taken in the snares in which their vanity soughtto inveigle others. 

Could you but see the living tableau of one of those soulstyrannized by the imagination, the sight would arouse both yourcompassion and disgust; for hers is a fickle, inconstant, fretful andworried life. During the long dreary days not a single instant iscompletely and sincerely given to God. Her thoughts, affections, desires and occupations never rise above trivialness. Among themultitude of persons of her acquaintance there is not a single onewhom she sincerely loves, or to whom she can render herself amiable. In the multiplied interviews to which she has devoted her life-timenot a single genuine affection can be found: words which the lipspronounce and which the heart ignores; visits made through etiquetteor inspired by frivolity; conversations that are mutually indulged infor mutual illusion or deception;--such are the joys, such theoccupations, of this woman. 

With dispositions such as these there cannot be question of sincerepiety nor of a Christian spirit. Piety resides in the will andsupposes the love of duty; imagination abhors duty and seeks onlyafter pleasure. True, the grace of God is all-powerful, it is nottied down to the development of our natural qualities, and God knowswell, when He pleases, how to come to the assistance of the soul'sfaculties, and plant the germs of solid virtue in a heart that isfrivolous and badly disposed; still it is an evident fact that amongsouls there are some better prepared than others to receive thisdivine seed, which takes deeper root when the heart is well disposed. Now, among all the agents that can unfit us for the reception ofdivine grace there is none so bad as an ungoverned imagination, because it is the source, especially among women, of the most fatalillusions. 

A woman in this condition spends her whole life-time in deceivingherself and in deceiving others--not purposely, but by a fatal andvoluntary illusion; she can see nothing in its true light; allobjects appear to her under strange colors; she forms her judgment ofthem according to the impression they make on the senses, or theeffect they produce in the imagination. All this unfits her for thereception of those supernatural truths which fortify the mind withouttroubling the imagination, and, consequently, she remains insensibleto the sweet impressions of grace which acts so mildly on the heartas to be unperceived by the senses. To such a woman piety is a merematter of form, made up of certain practices which, in the guise ofreligion, flatter and feed her imagination. But the most terriblefeature of this condition is, that it always grows worse, keeping thesoul in a cloud of darkness, which even the special light attendanton death cannot dispel. 

Thus, living and dying, they deceive themselves, and carry theirillusions to the very tribunal of the Sovereign Judge. Then, and nottill then, do they discover the truth which, though _seeing_, they did not _perceive_ during life. Then, in doleful cries andlamentations will they exclaim, Alas! _"We deceived ourselves, wehave gone astray from the path of truth!"_

Do not expose yourself to the same sad fate and doleful end; avoidthe danger while it is yet time; train your imagination from a tenderage, keep its activity under control, --then, instead of being asource of vile it will be a source of most precious advantages to you. 

One of the best means by which you can succeed in doing this is tofortify your will, giving it that authority and consistency which itneeds in order to govern the imagination; without a strong will, thatremains always self-composed in the midst of the tumult of the sensesand the activity of the imagination, you will certainly fail toconfine the latter to a just moderation. 

That your judgment may enjoy perfect liberty and ease, your everyact should be determined during peaceful calmness. Do not forgetthat, while you are passing through moments of excitement andpre-occupation, you are unable to see things rightly and execute themproperly. When in this state of mind a project is proposed to yourconsideration; you will find that your heart is already fixed upon itbefore you have duly examined it; then the liberty of your mindbecomes shackled either by vain hopes or fears suggested by someblind and violent instinct. In this and similar circumstances youshould proceed with great precaution. 

It is prudent and wise to defer taking action in any serious matteruntil self-composure is completely restored, until the mind isserene, the heart at peace, and the will in full possession of itsliberty. Listen not to the plausible solicitations--obey not theimpulses of your imagination, but wait several days, or weeks, oreven months if necessary; for a final determination taken in themidst of confusion and agitation will inevitably entail bitterregrets. Even prayer will not obtain for you, while in such a stateof mind, all the light that you need. What you should first ask is, that God would lull this storm, and restore peace to your soul; butit is not the moment to pray that He may inspire you what to do inthis or that difficulty, because, preoccupied as you are, you willperhaps take for the voice of God and of your conscience the cries ofyour troubled imagination. 

When, after a mature and serious examination of the matter at issue, you have calmly discovered what course to adopt, it is then time toenlist the service of the imagination to aid your will, and get itinterested in the work that you have to do, in order to impart newenergy to the soul, and new light to the intelligence; when it isdocile to the orders of the will it is a powerful auxiliary for good. 

Never forget that the liberty of the mind and heart is anindispensable condition to judge rightly, to love with security, andto act with prudence; and that whatever tends to diminish thisliberty should arouse your suspicions, no matter what may be itsapparent advantages; for these can never equal the advantagesaccruing from an unshackled heart and mind. 

CHAPTER XI. 

PIETY. 

Most appropriately indeed was the name _piety_ given by ourfathers in the faith to the sentiment which elevates the mind andheart to God. It establishes an intimate union between God and theChristian soul, for it is an affection composed of the most generousqualities of the human heart. In woman, it is a mixture of respect, devotedness and tenderness, which are enhanced still more by acertain blending of fear, confidence, and candor. Man is pioustowards God and his parents; but the woman whose heart is notvitiated by anything fictitious is pious towards those whom sheloves, for in each one of her affections may be found, combined indifferent degrees, all the shades of sentiment that we have mentionedabove; but it is in her piety towards God that they are especiallystriking. 

Woman's heart languishes for God, because it thirsts after the goodand beautiful; and all her efforts to satisfy its cravings will provefutile until it is immersed in the bosom of the Divinity, the Sourceof all goodness and beauty. With woman the heart is the greatreceptacle of grace, the principal agent in the practice of piety andvirtue. If this precious disposition of her heart offers many andgreat advantages, it carries with it also its inconveniences. Theheart is a near neighbor of the imagination, and the latter oftenallures the former by its charms. Its activity is often developed andexercised at the expense of the will, by diminishing and enfeeblingthe power and influence of the latter. It not unfrequently happensthat the heart becomes the seat of dangerous illusions, when it notonly favors, but even indulges in that tender and sensible piety, which is founded on and fed by lively sentiments and beautifulimages. In this state it costs no little effort to will and act. 

The reading of a pious book, the meditating on the mysteries of thepassion and death of our Saviour will melt the heart to tenderness. Thus, nature has a greater share than grace in piety and fervor ofthis stamp. Self-complacency and self-love are here most adroitlyconcealed under the garb of humility, and it requires a rare sagacityto discover their presence. The Christian soul in this state seeksnot to please God or others, but it seeks rather its own pleasure, and for many women this kind of piety is a form of affectation andvanity. With those fine sentiments and enthusiastic transports theyremain unmortified, vain and curious lovers of flattery and averse toreproof, retaining all their faults, which they endeavor to concealunder the mask of external piety. 

Do not ask such women to bridle their will or to restrain thesallies of their humor, --speak not to them of the good derived fromself-mortification, self-abnegation and the love of the Cross, --wordssuch as these have no signification for them. They are satisfied withsimply feeling and giving expression to those virtues, after themanner of artists who, by a happy disposition of mind, are expert inbecoming penetrated with ideas and sentiments in which their will hasno part whatever; and which have no moral influence over their life. 

They are delighted to go with Jesus on Mount Tabor and contemplateHim in the splendor of His glory; but when there is question ofparticipating in His ignominy on Calvary they most shamefully abandonHim. And when He asks them to aid Him to carry His cross they do it, if at all, as reluctantly as did Simon of Cyrene. They willinglymultiply prayers and exterior practices of piety, which flatternatural inclinations; they frequent the Sacraments, and thisfurnishes them the occasion and means of producing those lively andtender sentiments upon which the heart loves to feast. 

Their doleful condition is rendered still more deplorable by the useof the most sacred things to nourish their self-love and sensibility. Grace, according to their views of the spiritual life, is only ameans to render natural sensibility more delicate and refined. Thus, led on from one delusion to another, such women come to the end oftheir life, rich in foliage and flowers, but without ever havingproduced any fruit. 

I hope, dear reader, that such may not be your case; but, to avoidall error on a point of such vital interest, meditate constantly onthe divine instructions that Jesus has left us in the SacredScriptures, and on those also with which He inspired the pious authorof the "Following of Christ, " their most perfect commentator. Learnto discern genuine piety from that which bears only the name. Learnto distinguish between its object and that which is only a means toattain that object, --two things which are frequently and erroneouslyconfounded, yet which are very distinct and very different from eachother; for it is a great mistake to neglect the end by attaching toomuch importance to the means by which to attain it. 

Piety does not consist in sublime language, mystical thoughts, orangelical sentiments, for, according to St. Paul, we might speak thelanguage of angels and be still only sounding brass; neither does itconsist in the knowledge of divine mysteries, nor in the moreexcellent intellectual gifts; for, according to the same apostle, aman might be a prophet and possess a knowledge of all science, without being on that account anything in the sight of God. 

Faith is truly grand, because it is the principal basis of ourjustification; and because with it we are enabled to obtain allthings from God. Nevertheless, man might have faith strong enough tomove mountains and be absolutely nothing before God. Charity to thepoor, compassion for the unfortunate are indeed excellent virtues, because they cancel numerous sins, and because they seem to form theprincipal matter of that terrible judgment which will decide our wealor woe for eternity; yet you might distribute all your wealth amongthe poor, and still merit no reward from God. 

We are recommended by the Holy Scriptures and by the masters of thespiritual life to practice mortification, the perfection of which isfound in martyrdom; and nevertheless, though you should even lacerateyour body till it became one bleeding wound, and deliver it into thehands of the executioner to be burned, you might gain nothing thereby. 

None of all those things constitutes the essence of piety. One thingalone can claim this privilege and that is CHARITY, not that charitywhich consists merely in _feeling_ and _speaking_, but a_charity that is active_, and which penetrates the entire lifeby its divine, influence; that charity which is patient andbeneficent, not envious, dealing not perversely, not puffed up. Truecharity is not ambitious seeks not its own, is not provoked to anger, thinks no evil, does not rejoice in iniquity but for the good itbeholds everywhere, it bears all things, believes all things, hopesall things and endures all things; such is the soul of true pietyaccording to the Apostle St. Paul. (Cor. I Epist. , xiii chap. )

Our divine Lord clearly defines its nature in the following terms:"_If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take uphis cross, and follow me, for he that will save his life, shall loseit, and he that shall lose his life for my sake shall find it. _"(Matth. Ch. Xvi. ) To be a Christian consists in walking in thefootsteps of Jesus Christ. Hence, to follow Him and carry the cross, self-denial is the first and most necessary qualification. In orderto enjoy the eternal happiness of the future life we must sacrificethe false joys of earth. Again, He tells us: "_The kingdom ofheaven suffereth violence, and the violent bear it away_, " that isto say, _the valiant, the energetic, and persevering_, willalone succeed in securing it; for the words _bear away_ expressthe action of one that seizes a prey. Add to these texts those othersof St. Paul: _"If any man have not the spirit of Christ, he is noneof his, "_ that is--he does not belong to Christ, he is not Hisdisciple; and _"they that are Christ's have crucified their fleshwith the vices and concupiscences. "_

Now I would not have you think that the piety of which I speak istoo elevated for you, that it can he practiced only by members ofreligious orders, and very holy laics--this is by no means the case. What is required of you is nothing more than what our Lord and allthe saints would have you do. 

I must point out another error not less pernicious to the practiceof true piety, namely; that of taking the means to the acquisition ofpiety as the end for which you practice it, for the means should atall times be appreciated according to their just value, or accordingto the assistance they give you to attain your end as a trueChristian, which consists in dying to self and to self-glory. I wouldnot have you judge of your progress in perfection by the number ofyour communions, or the multitude of your pious practices, or thelength of your prayers, but by the victories which you gain overyourself, over your passions, your character, and your temper. 

Like all other good things, you can turn prayer to your spiritualdetriment, when you have recourse to it through vain glory. Bethoroughly convinced of the truth expressed by the Evangelist St. John, _that he is a liar who says that he loves God, and does notkeep his commandments. _ Remember that the spirit of darkness, asSt. Paul tells us, can, and often does, transform himself into anangel of light, and produce in the mind false lights, which dazzleand blind it. 

Now that you know in what the essence of piety consists, you oughtto learn in what faculty of the soul it resides, and this knowledgewill preserve you from many illusions, and point out to you thedirection in which you must advance in order to attain your end. 

Piety, should, by its divine influence, penetrate all the facultiesof the soul and take possession of your whole being; it ought, as wehave said above, to make its presence especially felt in your heart, by purifying all its affections; but its principal abode should be inthe will, through which it may reach all the other faculties in orderto elevate and vivify them. 

The will is, indeed, if I may so speak, the organ or the instrumentof sacrifice and duty; and since piety properly consists in sacrificeand duty, in suppressing the inordinate appetites of the human heart, and elevating nature above herself, the will is the faculty in whichpiety should reside. 

It is not an easy matter to be truly pious, for, in order to attainto a superior order of spiritual perfection, we must lay aside_self_ which paralyzes all the generous movements of the soul, --we must also faithfully correspond to divine grace. All this entailsmuch difficulty, many struggles, and, consequently, great andconstant efforts. 

Every being has a tendency, founded on an imperious instinct, todwell in its natural sphere, which it can not leave even to enter asuperior one without making a great effort. Hence, the Holy Ghostwarns him who desires to serve God to prepare for temptation andstruggle. Now, among all the faculties of the soul, the will is thebest disposed for the combat, because pleasure has a smaller share inits movements than in those of the heart and imagination; it is able, when necessary, to rise superior to the most alluring charms, preferring fidelity to duty with all its difficulties and bitterness. 

To be pious implies the faithful observance of God's commandments, _"If you love me, "_ says Christ, _"keep my commandments;"_it consists in being resigned to the will of God, ready to bedisposed of at His good pleasure. To do this you must place all yourfaculties, and especially your will at His disposal. God has reservedto Himself the right of acting in an intimate and profound mannerupon the will. This faculty is His sanctuary, in which He delights todwell, and operate the prodigies of His grace and love, which Hecommunicates with unbounded prodigality to His elect. 

This is the throne upon which He silently engraves the image of Hisdivine Son, the essential characteristic of predestination. It is inthis power of the human soul that He plants in the depth of Christianhumility the foundation of solid virtue, in defiance to the disordersof the mind, the agitations of the heart and the incoherencies of thememory. 

From the bosom of the Divinity our Blessed Lord brought with Him twospecial favors, one of which was for His eternal Father, and theother to be given persons of good-will. He charged His angels toannounce them to the world in the person of the shepherds. They were, glory for His Father and peace for men, but only for men of good-will. This heavenly peace is a foretaste of the never-ending joys ofParadise. It is a prize worth striving for, and easy to secure, atleast for you, since it is promised to all persons of good-will. 

CHAPTER XII. 

VOCATION. 

God, who has created all things by His own power, conserves them byan act of His divine love; and by His providence leads them to theirappointed destiny through ways conformable to their own nature. Hedid not create man to live a solitary being, and, consequently, implanted in his heart an instinctive need of society; desiring thatthe latter should effectively contribute to the development of thefaculties of soul and body. And, as society cannot subsist without acertain variety of conditions, and functions, which lend each othermutual aid, He has planted in our souls certain dispositions inharmony with the particular state of life to which He has destinedus. This is what is called _vocation_. 

It is, as you perceive, only a particular form of that generalprovidence by which God governs the universe, giving to the liliestheir eclat and perfume, watching with maternal care over the youngbrood, preparing its food for the little bird, and not allowing asingle hair to fall from our heads without His permission. Ipurposely make use of the beautiful images that Jesus Himselfemployed to reveal to us the sweet mystery of providence. 

To deny that man has a special vocation is placing him in a rankinferior to the plants and irrational animals. It is denying thevariety of dispositions which enter into the combination ofcharacter, and which is at once one of the greatest charms of andmost precious advantages to society; it is forcing on the mind theconviction that every one is free to choose, whether in or out ofseason, his post in the world, even when such a course would becontrary to the principles of common-sense, and would entail thesubversion of society; for, let each and every one be directed in thechoice of his post by the whims and caprices of nature, assuredlysociety will soon become demoralized, even as an army in which eachsoldier would be free to choose and take the grade and position thatbest suited his tastes. 

If society is kept in a constant feverish agitation, by the furiouscontests of ungoverned passion, it is because no one, or at least thevast number never take the trouble to consult God by prayer, orotherwise, before making a choice of a state of life. If there are somany dissatisfied with their state of life it is because they are notwhere God had destined them to be. If life is blighted withdeception, fraught with regrets and bitterness, if our fairest hopesare blasted, if pain and sorrow brood over our existence, it isbecause the soul suffers the punishment entailed by her levity ornegligence in a matter on which her weal or woe depends, both fortime and eternity. 

Oh, how sadly rare in the world is that sweet and celestial peace, that interior contentment, that pure and simple joy which in holiertimes families prized as their most precious inheritance; and whichthey handed down to their posterity as one of their richest gifts:then the thought of God and eternity presided over all the importantactions of their life; then the light of heaven was invoked whenthere was question of any important undertaking; and as grave matterswere considered and weighed in the light of truth and religion, dueattention was paid to the choice of a state of life. 

They knew that, while other proceedings might be changed, andconsequently their fatal result averted when foreseen, the step madein the choice of a state of life is irrevocable and a mistake made inthat step not only involves our happiness or misery for time but alsofor eternity. Hence it is said by many that vocation is closelyallied with predestination. 

It is a most solemn moment in the Christian's life, for it is thebeginning of that road by which he must attain his destination. Atthis juncture it is consoling to consider with the eye of faith, thelove and solicitude with which God protects the soul; to behold Jesusoffering with ineffable tenderness for her the blood which He shed onthe cross. To see the guardian angel redoubling his charitableefforts in the interest of his client, awaiting with pious anxietythe issue of a deliberation upon which must depend in a great measurethe success or failure of his labors for her eternal salvation. 

Still, should any one be so unfortunate as to make a bad choice, lethim not consider his condition irremediable; divine mercy hasinexhaustible resources from which to provide us with the means towork out our salvation, and prevent the doleful consequences of thosefatal errors. 

Yet, it is certain beyond all question, that we render the work ofour eternal salvation always more difficult when we have not embracedthat state of life which God had laid out for us; for the sins whichare a consequence of this want of correspondence to the divine will, will have, if not a decisive influence, at least a considerable sharein the work of our reprobation. How many souls now writhing ineternal torments could, on ascending the course of their lives, pointout the solemn moment in which they made a choice of a state of lifeas the time of their departure from the road to heaven. 

No Christian who has his salvation at heart will hesitate to saythat it is folly to treat with indifference and levity a matter ofsuch vital importance; for he must remember with a sacred awe that, when he makes a choice of a state of life, he pronounces in a certainmanner an irrevocable sentence on himself. 

When the soul is deprived of the advantages of a rule of life, ofthe advantages of good dispositions, character and temperament, aswell as of those provided by circumstances, men and things on the onehand; and when she is obliged to struggle incessantly against herselfand external obstacles on the other hand, the work of her salvationbecomes more difficult and less certain. In this deplorablecondition, the only pillar left her on which she can anchor her hopesof salvation is the mercy of God; but then a faithful correspondencewith divine grace in the most minute details, constant andpersevering prayer to obtain strength to bear the trials of life withprofit, are positively necessary conditions to escape destruction. 

Commencing her career, woman finds for the most part only two roadsthat dispute the choice of her adoption. Estranged, generallyspeaking, to the professional life, or at least, acting in it only asecondary role, she scarcely gives it a serious thought; she cantherefore give all due deliberation to her choice between marriageand celibacy. 

If all were bound to choose the more perfect state, considered initself, the question would be easily settled, as in that case therewould be, properly speaking, no choice to make; for evidently it isthe celibate state of life that should be adopted, since it is a moreperfect state than that of marriage; and the church, maintaining thedoctrine of the Apostle on this point, has condemned as hereticsthose who teach that the married state is as perfect as that ofvirginity. But, if all should aspire to perfection, if all are freeto choose the kind of life that will better insure the attaining ofthat perfection, then all are not obliged to embrace the celibatestate, since our perfection consists in doing God's will. 

When you are about to make a choice of a state of life, you are notonly permitted, but even urged, to take into consideration yourdispositions and aptitudes for the state which you propose toembrace; and, if they are in good accord with it, you may safelyconjecture that they were given you for that state of life. Yourimperative duty consists in distinguishing between the call given byGod and the voice of passion or prejudice. Hence you should promptlyand faithfully follow the attractions and dispositions that God hasgiven you, and nothing else. 

If for instance, a woman made her choice with a view of pandering toher vanity, curiosity, worldly love, or some other passion still moreculpable perhaps, God would have no part in her determinations, andshe would inevitably become the dupe of her own folly; for God giveslight only to such as are sincere in their search for it, and theywho look for it in this way are such as those, who, in examining thequestion of their vocation, have chiefly in view the glory of God andtheir own salvation. 

If the natural dispositions should be taken into consideration, itis not indeed with a view to flatter nature and avoid the strugglesincident to the Christian life. That would be renouncing the glorioustitle of Christian, and the incomparable favor that God has conferredupon us in creating us to live with Him forever. If it is useful toconsult our taste and aptitude it is because they are for the mostpart indicative of God's will; hence we ought to employ them for thepurpose for which He gave them to us. Then the object of yourresearches in this matter should be to discover God's will in thatstate of life for which He has given you a pronounced taste andaptitude; but, because the caprice of nature or character maysometimes be taken for that taste and aptitude, you are notaltogether safe from deception without some other guarantee. 

It frequently happens that man believes to be an inspiration fromGod what is only the effect of badly-regulated passion or some badhabit deeply rooted in the soul. In order to be sure that God hasgiven such a disposition or aptitude of the heart and mind as beingindicative of the state of life He would have us enter, it should bepossessed of the following conditions, namely: The sanction of time, which is the instrument that God ordinarily employs to stamp theimpress of His will on the works that He operates in us. It isnecessary that this disposition has been constant, that is to say, that it has not suffered from frequent or long interruptions. Atransitory taste appearing to-day and vanishing to-morrow, a volatileinclination frequently appearing and just as frequently disappearing, merits no consideration in an affair that involves the Christian'shappiness both for time and eternity. 

However, if the aptitude which you feel in your soul for a givenstate of life has lost much of its vivacity, or even when it shouldhave frequently vanished in the course of your life; you are in dutybound to study the causes and circumstances of this change, especially when, with the disappearence of that inclination, pietyand fervor in God's service have also diminished in the soul. 

If, as often as you felt the sweet impulse of divine grace in prayerand holy communion this inclination became also aroused in the soul;if you felt it increase in proportion as you gave yourself to God, you may safely conclude that it is the indicator of God's will inyour regard, and that its vascillating or enfeebled condition was thework of your own perverse will. Hence, in order to ascertain whetherthe natural inclination or aptitude you feel for any state of life isfrom God or the effect of a deluded fancy, you need but compare yournatural aptitude with those you have received through divine grace;and if you find them in perfect accord you may rest assured that theyare from God, for He is the author of nature as well as of grace. Onthe contrary, should they disagree then you may safely conclude thatyour natural desire or inclination is a delusion. 

This last consideration should not be omitted, especially when thereis question of embracing the religious life; for the attraction bywhich we feel ourselves drawn to a more perfect life is in itself agift of God, and one of His most precious gifts. As often as thisattraction reveals its presence in the heart, it singularly involvesthe study of vocation. Hence, it is a most delicate and perilousmatter to deal with, for if this attraction comes from God and if thesoul repels it she prepares for herself lamentable delusions, and alife fraught with bitterness and remorse. God has a reason forfrequently saying in the Sacred Scriptures that He is a jealous God, and the church, for the same reason, addresses Jesus in the litanies, _jealous of souls_. 

Hence, after having shown the greatest preference for a soul, inhonoring her with the exalted dignity of being His spouse, adorningher with the gorgeous splendor of His richest treasures, and then seeHimself basely rejected, or treated with cold indifference; Hisdivine justice should naturally revenge the insult; which is done bydelivering her into her own hands, the most cruel punishment thatcould be inflicted on her. 

However, if you feel an attraction for the religious life, it, wouldbe imprudent and rash on your part to decide the matter yourself. Youshould, in the spirit of humility, after having consulted God byprayer, consult some enlightened persons noted for their wisdom andprudence, piety and learning, who will advise you with a view tosecure the spiritual welfare of your soul above all things. Shouldthose to whom you address yourself fail to give all the assurance youshould have, be not backward in consulting others; for unlimitedconfidence in the words of any man, no matter who he may be, will notdispense you from all responsibility before God, nor preserve youfrom making a wrong choice. 

Neither should you lose sight of, or derogate in the least, from therespect and obedience you owe your parents. It is their sacred dutyand right to advise you; and to whom should you look for a moredisinterested advice? A young girl would indeed be an object of pityif, instead of finding a truly Christian tenderness in her parents, they would be her idolizers so far as to be blinded to her trueinterests. It is for this blind and foolish love that many parentssacrifice their children, either by ignoring their just claims toembrace the religious life, or by opposing an advantageous marriagethrough vanity or personal interest. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

A SERIOUS MIND. 

A vast number of people unfortunately labor under the falseimpression that woman's great work and duty consists in making hercompany agreeable and pleasing to all. This error is most prejudicialto woman; it is opposed to the teachings of religion and the HolyScriptures; and nevertheless it is only too true that a countlessnumber of women have sedulously labored for its propagation, or, atleast, they have proved by their actions that this is their_only_ work; and in many places, to the great detriment ofsociety, the education of girls has been directed in a great measureaccording to this false opinion. 

They are taught to esteem graceful manners, elegance of deportment, flashy humor, affability of character, and unlimited condescension asbeing the elements of a finished education; and the precious days ofchildhood with the more precious time of adolescence have beenentirely absorbed to acquire it. 

This is the school that has given birth to what is called "_Artsof Pleasure_, " to which it sacrifices the knowledge of morenecessary things which instruct the mind, fortify the heart, andinvigorate the will. Our compassion and disgust are simultaneouslyaroused, when we see so many women whose education has given them noother knowledge than to teach them how to flatter the taste of othersat the expense of Christian modesty. 

How many women there are who, from their youth, have renounced thedignity and glorious privileges of their sex, calmly resigningthemselves to play the inferior and humiliating role that theprejudices and passions of a frivolous society impose upon them!

It is our heart-felt desire that you may never experience anythingof the kind; suffer not the aureola with which God has decorated yourbrow to be ruthlessly removed and trampled under foot. Remember thatyour soul is just as noble as that of man; that it is illuminated bythe same faith, drawn towards heaven by the same hopes, and united tothe same Author of all greatness and of all life by the same charity. Should your belief in this waver, transport yourself in spirit toCalvary: there you will see that women were the only sympathizers ofJesus, and, while hanging on the cross, women were, with theexception of St. John, the only witnesses of His death. 

The apostles and disciples, all had fled; and in this memorablescene in which all things seem to be confounded courage and valorseemed to have taken refuge in the soul of women. Hence the Churchrecords, with love and gratitude, on the brightest pages of herhistory, this noble and generous act of devotedness as being thespecial privilege of your sex, since it was won on the ever-memorableday of our redemption. 

It is not easy to look a painful truth in the face; but we areforced to do so when we reluctantly confess that female frivolity isthe source of that levity which prevails now-a-days, to such anextent as to affect the very laws and government of society. To keepaloof from this poisonous atmosphere, you must cultivate that seriousturn of mind, that gravity which gives women an air of majesty, andwins the homage of those who do not even understand her. 

Experience will teach you that the importance attached to theseriousness with which woman's life should be enveloped isundervalued. Learn to appreciate it as it merits; show thatappreciation by now giving to all the actions of your life thatweight and gravity which shall render them agreeable to God. 

To succeed in your good resolution great firmness is required; youwill be obliged to condemn the frivolity of young persons in whosecompany circumstances may throw you. You must set your face againstthe fashions of the world, against the force of habit and prejudice, perhaps against the freaks of your own character. But remember thatthe reward awaiting you is well worth the struggle you are asked tosustain; and this struggle will not be so difficult as you may think, if you face it courageously, coherently and perseveringly, employing, of course, the proper means. 

To begin, you should cast overboard that inclination to frivolitywherever you meet with it. But since a bad plant is more quickly andradically destroyed by pulling it out of the roots than by simplylopping of the tops as they appear over ground, so do we likewisesucceed better in correcting a bad habit, or destroying an evilinclination by attacking it at its source than by being satisfiedwith arresting its bad effects, allowing the cause to remain. Andsince it is in the mind that frivolity takes up its abode, it isthere that it must be sought for and destroyed. 

There exists among the different faculties of the soul a certainorder, a species of hierarchy which gives a certain preponderance tosome of them over the others; consequently some of them are of aninferior while others are of a superior order. You will labor in vainto give a serious cast to your sentiments and actions if you feedyour mind on frivolous thoughts, while serious thoughts are theprogenitors of enduring affections and noble deeds. Hence the cultureof the mind is an important factor to the acquisition of a taste forthose things which are the true ornament of woman. Sentiments are theoutcomings of thoughts, and both together are expressed by actions. 

Feed your intelligence with serious thoughts; never amuse it withthose trifles which absorb the attention of persons of your age. Donot think that those serious thoughts badly become your youth; thatthey would deprive you of a part of your comfort, rendering youwearisome to others and insupportable to yourself; that they wouldgive you a pedantic and affected air which would lead others tobelieve that you despised them; that every age has its peculiartastes and customs, and that it would be an act of uncalled-forseverity to exact from a young person just beginning, so to say, theapprenticeship of life, a gravity of manners and dispositions thatwould scarcely be required at a maturer age. 

Seriousness is required in all ages, but not always in the samedegree. Thus the gravity befitting a young lady is very differentfrom that expected from a woman more advanced in years. This virtue, far from excluding legitimate amusement and pleasure, only regulatesand elevates them by confining them to just limits. An agreeable andlively turn may be given to the most serious things, rendering thempleasing and acceptable to the minds of all. 

Truth is never subtle, and never darkens the soul in which itresides; on the contrary, it sheds a halo of light around her, revealing all those interior movements which lend a sweet and amiablecharm to every action. 

You would be the first to condemn the doctrine of those who maintainthat woman must be of a frivolous turn of mind in order to beagreeable. You would justly regard, as an outrage to your sex, suchassertions as go to show that seriousness can have no place in themind of woman. Such being the case, you will not say, with many ofyour age, that the time will come soon enough to feed your soul withsolid substantial food; and that the age of serious thoughts willcome only too soon; nor will you close your eyes to the fact, taughtby long experience, that every one must reap in riper years suchfruit as they had sown in youth. If you wait till then, it will betoo late for you to enter another groove and form new habits. If youare now frivolous in your thoughts and sentiments you will be solater; for, as age fortifies the tastes and inclinations, frivolitymust increase as you advance in years. 

Perhaps facts of this nature have already fallen under your notice;you must have met with old ladies whose levity so painfully contrastswith the gravity that becomes their age; and, while it is notpermitted us to judge others, yet every good Christian must beshocked at this contrast. Profit by their example, sad as it is, andhasten to conclude that it is folly to defer to a future time whatcan and should be done at present; and that defects, as well asvirtue, are fortified by time and habit. If your early education hasnot been truly Christian, if the teachings of divine faith have notyet rendered you familiar with the most serious things of life, youmight perhaps consider as difficult, or even impracticable, thecounsels that I give you now. 

Is there anything more serious or more in opposition to our naturalinclinations, and at the same time less consistent with thedeplorable levity of our minds, than the truths of our holy religion?For serious, indeed, must be the reflections that those truthsinspire, which you should now learn to meditate seriously, in orderto make them a life-long practice. Is it not a serious occupation ofthe mind to think of God, of the salvation of your soul, thebriefness of life, eternity which follows it, the duties thatreligion imposes upon you? Is it not a serious occupation to addressGod in holy prayer, to descend into the secret folds of yourconscience, and examine all your actions in the light of the gospel;to reveal in all your works the sacred character that you havereceived in baptism; to lead a life according to the spirit of faith, and not according to the spirit of the world-for, if there is nodifference between your conduct and that of worldlings, to whatpurpose will the title of Christian avail you? All this is a seriouswork, and requires a serious mind to accomplish it. 

The practice of Christian virtues supposes and develops at the sametime the love of seriousness. This love does not increase in asuperficial soul; while it is entirely sterile in a frivolous mind. Remember that you have now attained the age between childhood andwomanhood, when it is no longer lawful to be amused by trifles, andwhen you are called upon to prepare for austere duties which youmust, ere long, discharge. 

You have now come to that period of life at which you must determineyour final future course; hence you have need of a serious mind andwill to guide you securely in the choice of the road, as also to paveit with those virtues which in the end will form your most precioustreasures. This road will be such as you have made it, narrow orwide, level or rough, according to the pains and labor that you haveexpended in preparing it. 

If you hearken to the voice of reason, and wish to profit by thelessons of wisdom, you will not squander a most precious time in vainamusements; you will neither step to the right nor to the left, butcontinue right on in the way of stern duty. The world's siren charmswill have no attraction for you, as their bitter fruits would extortfrom you bitter regrets for having so little profited by the mostprecious time of your life. 

Oh, how sorrowful the old age of women who have never nourishedtheir minds otherwise than with frivolous thoughts: finding neitherin themselves nor in society any means to dispel the gloom thatenvelops them, and not being able to enlist the sympathy of the worldwhich abandons and despises them, they are condemned to eke out amiserable existence in the disgust and wearisomeness of a sombresolitude. 

To a serious woman, on the contrary, old age lends a peculiar charmwhich renders her company agreeable to, and sought for, by allserious minds. Her conversation and manners still possess all theblitheness, freshness and vivacity of youth. Her steady lightsomegaze, tempered by a benignant and reflective mind, lends her an airof amiability and majesty. Her language is instructive, her counselsencouraging, while her reproaches arouse the heart to a sense ofduty. She has friends wherever she is known, friends who revere andrespect, without idolizing her. In her youth she never pandered toflattery, now, old, she shall not experience ingratitude. The friendsshe earned by her sterling worth will recall to her mind the happysouvenirs of her youth, even up to the last days of her life; for heryears bear with them all their primitive charms which can neverdecline under the influence of time, because the thoughts andaffections that produced and preserved them are now what they were, solid and grave. And while the companions of her youth languish andfret in their sad isolation, she, always the same, sees herselfsurrounded by a multitude, anxious to profit by her experience. 

If you have learned to be serious in youth, you shall enjoy anagreeable old age; but if the former be stamped with levity andfrivolity, the latter shall be fraught with sorrow and desolation. Donot count on the charms of youth, it is a flower that shall very soonfade, and like a bird on the wing, shall leave no trace behind it. The lustre of your eyes now beaming delight shall soon grow dull; thebloom shall depart from your cheek; the bright hopes that now fillyour soul shall give place to sad souvenirs; and your heart which isnow the abode of delight shall then be harrowed with sorrow and woe. To-day you are flattered and praised, then you shall be a castaway, abandoned. All that will remain to you is God and your soul, withwhom you had never learned to converse or commune. Oh, sad, indeed, is the old age of a frivolous youth!

CHAPTER XIV. 

CHOICE OP COMPANIONS. 

Since a predisposition to good and evil is found among persons ofall classes and ages; and as this predisposition is especially strongat your age, when the sympathies are most tender, when the heart socandid and open is ready to receive and reciprocate those secretemanations that escape from the souls of loved ones; you require totake more than ordinary precautions, since the danger to which thesecircumstances expose you is indeed very great, and requires aprudence superior to your years, --you must therefore look for it inthe advice of others, but more especially in that of your mother whoshould be your first adviser in all things. 

How many women owe to the examples and deceptive lessons of a so-called friend, the bitterness that corrodes their hearts, and theremorse which perhaps torments their life! We pass over in silencethose societies the evident danger of which is easily perceived, andon that account easily averted; but you have not the same guaranteeagainst the noxious effects which arise from those relations whoseunion is found in the most frivolous instincts of the heart, to whichaccess is gained by the feeblest faculties of the soul. What is itthat is most commonly found in those intimacies, if not thoughtswithout consistency, vain hopes, precocious or impatient desires, indiscreet confidence, imprudent language, rash questions and answersrasher still?

As a general rule, any society or company from which you derive nobenefit for head or heart is, if not dangerous, at least pernicious;and you ought to shun them unless that imperative reasons or the willof your parents advise otherwise; for all that tends to diminish youresteem for the value of time and for the love of serious things isprejudicial to your soul. You should prefer your mother's company tothat of all others. Her life should be as a book constantly openbefore you; her lessons and examples, her experience and counselsshould be an inexhaustible mine of instruction, useful and preciousto your soul. 

The young lady is indeed an object of compassion who feels hermother's company irksome and onerous. At your age the heart isconfiding and effusive, and it needs some bosom in which to reposeits confidence; for it would be subjecting it to an ordeal too rude, and exposing it perhaps to a fatal reaction, by completely deprivingit of consolations derived from acquaintances approved by every law, human and divine. It should be treated with moderation, founded onprudence, as undue severity renders its desires and needs moreimperative. 

But if it is dangerous to restrict the heart to silence and inactionit is much more dangerous to feed it on frivolous affections. Thereis nothing that exhausts its energies so much as an over-indulgencein those puerile sentiments fed by the imagination. Those sentimentscreate within it a void which nothing can fill, and destroy its lovefor everything that is noble and generous. 

A frivolous heart is not less disastrous to woman than is afrivolous mind. How many women find themselves disarmed and powerlessin important circumstances of life, for having neglected in youth thetraining of the heart's affections! How many are unequal to the taskof discharging a painful duty, because they were wont to seek theirpleasure in all they did from early childhood! How many who, spite ofthe chastisement of adversity and deception incurred by theiridolizing preference for their levity and affections, still remainthe dupes of their blind attachment even in their old age! Youresteem for your own heart, and appreciation for its affections, should be highly noteworthy, and deeply graven in your mind by theconstant habit of prizing them. 

When you feel an attraction for a young person of your own age, donot blindly obey it, before having maturely studied its nature andmotives. We should always act for a purpose worthy of ourselves, butmore especially so when there is question of delivering ourselvesover to the confidence and friendship of others; for in this mutualexchange we dispose of the greater part of our being. In thisintimate relation, which is formed insensibly by repeated interviews, there is formed a reciprocal discernment that exercises a powerfulinfluence over all the faculties of the soul, the convictions of theminds, the sentiments of the heart, the habits of character, andoften even over the general deportment. 

The good sense of our fathers has expressed this truth by one ofthose proverbs so familiar to them: "_Tell me your company and Iknow who you are. _" Of course you have frequently heard thosewords, and knowing their meaning withal, perhaps you have notconsidered the circumstances wherein they may be applied. Weearnestly wish that they may never be employed relative to you, atthe expense of the joy of your heart or the peace of your conscience. 

You should use much discretion in the choice that you make of theperson with whom you would form an intimate acquaintance; for such anintimacy is not only founded on a mutual confidence, and reciprocalaffections; it is also the result which follows from being frequentlyin each other's company. This latter intimacy is more dangerous thanthe former because the heart, not thinking itself interested, is lessupon its guard, and consequently more exposed to suffer from thepoison concealed in words and examples. 

Be assured of the nature of the attraction you feel. See if it isfounded upon solid qualities, capable of making an impression upon anupright and serious mind, or upon those superficial qualities whichthe world esteems, and which allure volatile minds. In the lattercase, you cannot, without danger, engage in relations; the inevitableeffect of which must be either to fortify your present defects, oradd to them others which you have not at present. If your love forany one be founded on trivial motives, and if you dispense yourselffrom the obligation of restraining your affections, let me entreatyou to take at least all the precautions that prudence requires toprevent you from becoming the dupe of a foolish fondness. But if youraffections are founded on sympathy of character, on a concurrence ofholy thoughts and sentiments, with a view to strengthen the love andpractice of virtue; then the attainment of their object is highlycommendable and praiseworthy; and you may justly hope to secure thehappiest results from it. But even then, you should be on your guardagainst your own judgment, placing a certain restraint on yoursentiments of confidence and love, or friendship, which, in order tobe lasting, must be calm, devoid of that impetuosity which actsviolently on the heart. It should be the work of time, shedding itssweet influence on the duties of life, rendering their accomplishmentless laborious and more fruitful. 

Those who love each other with a sincere Christian affection, willingly sacrifice to duty the pleasure of being together, or rathertheir great pleasure consists in doing God's will; with noble couragethey rise superior to all other considerations, and mutually inspireeach other with a holy zeal, imposing silence upon the voice of theiraffections, in presence of the voice of their conscience. 

Such is the manner in which persons should love each other; such arethe affections that God blesses and rewards. You are deeply indebtedto Divine Providence if it has sent you one whom you can love in thisway, for this is one of the most precious gifts of God's mercy. It isespecially at your age that such friendships are most easily formed, because then the heart is more tender and confiding. How many womenowe, in a great measure, their peace of mind and conscience to thegood advice and protecting influence of a friend whom they met within the springtime of life. 

There are in woman's life many delicate and trying circumstancesthat demand the intervention of a sincere friend, to direct andsustain her, when the light of conscience becomes obscured orextinct; when the energies of the heart succumb to the allurements ofpleasure; when the mind, embarrassed by doubt and perplexity, canscarcely distinguish the line of duty, semi-obliterated by prejudiceand passion; happy, then, is the woman who can call upon a faithfuland tried friend, to whom she can confide the secrets of her heart, and from whom she may hope to receive the help and consolation thather condition calls for. 

CHAPTER XV. 

TOILET. 

An undue attention to toilet is a dangerous rock for many women who, otherwise remarkable for their grave deportment, are sometimesgreater slaves than the most frivolous women to dress and fashion. Itis truly a great misery to be taken up with undue solicitude for thefragile and perishable part of our being; but more especially so, when such preference is given it by minds which are otherwise nobleand elevated. It is painful to be obliged to confess that many womenof high and cultivated attainments spend a considerable portion oftheir life in this futile occupation. It seems incredible that aribbon-knot, the color of a robe, or the form of a head-dress, couldbecome a capital matter for an intelligent creature destined tocontemplate with the angels of heaven the majesty of God. 

If there are so few women who enjoy all the advantages of theirhappy dispositions and attainments, it is because of their inordinatelove for toilet and fashion; for nothing narrows the mind orcontracts the heart so much as excessive care of the body. When theyneglect the soul, the noblest part of man, she revenges herself ofthe insult by concealing all her brilliant qualities, which aloneconstitute woman's true beauty and adornment. 

It is impossible for a vain or gaudy woman to converse on anyserious matter, but she will talk for whole hours on the form orquality of a dress; should the conversation happen to turn on aserious subject, capable of engaging the attention of an elevatedmind, her countenance will soon betray a sense of dissatisfaction andweariness. 

Give befitting attention to the care of your body, because it is thetemple of God, who has deposited therein a precious germ ofimmortality. But at the same time, keep it in its own place; andsince it is the inferior part of your being do not allow it toinfringe upon the rights and privileges of the soul, whose docile andobedient servant it should be. Avoid in your toilet all that savorsof frivolity, which betray a desire to attract attention; but aboveall; avoid every thing that might in the least wound modesty. Do notforget that this virtue is one of the most beautiful ornaments ofyour sex, and that when woman is deprived of it she is like a fadedflower, without eclat or perfume. You should conform to the customsof your country and condition without being in any way their slave, remembering that your soul is at all times in duty bound to soarabove all those futilities, and conserve by a noble independence, herglory and her majesty. 

Do not follow the example of those women who, slaves of the world, obey with blind docility all its caprices; seeking with aviditywhatever is novel, in order to be the first in the _fashion_, and acquire by that, the vain reputation of a woman of good taste. Those who believe themselves obliged to have recourse to theseductions of fashion and dress in order to attract the attention oftheir would-be admirers, give a sad manifestation of the emptiness oftheir minds and the depravity of their hearts. Those who aredistinguished for their noble qualities of head and heart attachtheir hopes, to loftier claims; by their modesty and reserve they arepleasing to all, and the sentiments which they inspire, being alwaysnoble and pure, never give the slightest annoyance to any one; on thecontrary they arouse the holiest and most generous instincts of thesoul. 

One of the sweetest charms that adorns your age is that which arisesfrom its simplicity and candor. The world itself, so liberal in itsjudgments, will not pardon in you whatever savors of egotism andostentation. In these and similar things it will avail you naught tooffer for excuse custom and usage, behind which so many aged womentry to take refuge. Profit, then, by the truce which the world in ameasure concedes in favor of your modesty, to acquire the habit ofsimplicity in your dress and whole exterior. This simplicity, onceacquired, will be your guarantee, later on, against the examples andseductions of the fashionable world, which shows as little deferencefor the laws of good taste as for those of Christian modesty. 

The beautiful and good are never in contradiction with each other. The same is true of what are perverse and depraved. And this is whythe depravity of taste is in keeping with the standard of a people'smoral life. Be assured that there is nothing beautiful except what istrue and good; and that there is neither truth nor goodness in thingsdevoid of simplicity. If you regulate your dress and whole exteriorbearing according to these two principles you will standirreproachable to your own conscience, and secure the respect andadmiration of the most exacting worldlings, for simplicity of dressand manners possesses charms that win universal approbation. 

Never lose sight of your glorious title of Christian. Remember thaton the day of your baptism you renounced the pomps and vanities ofthe world, and, if you are allowed to conform to customs not contraryto the maxims of the Gospel, you ought at the same time manifest inyour dress, as in the rest, the glorious character that God hasstamped in your soul. You should show by your conduct the strikingcontrast that exists between the Christian woman and the woman who, being incredulous or indifferent, does not draw her rule of life fromthe precepts of the Gospel. 

Your dress should be grave and modest: these are the characteristicmarks by which it can be distinguished from that of women who areslaves of the world. St. Paul said to the Christians of his time:_Let your modesty appear to all men, for the Lord is near you!_What a profound lesson there is in these words, and how strongly theyset forth the motives for which a Christian should be modest. To putin practice this counsel of the Apostle, you must accustom yourselfto walk in the presence of God, representing to yourself by a livelyfaith that God is near you, that He sees you and will demand a strictaccount one day from you of all your actions. Frequently call to mindwhat St. Paul said to the Corinthians, namely: that _we are aspectacle to men and angels_. Let the true sense of those wordssink deeply into your heart, and it will enable you to regulate souland body. 

The desire to attract attention, to draw the admiring gaze of fellow-beings is a weakness that lurks in every human heart; but with womanit seems to be the main-spring to all her actions, which is kept inmotion alike by the applause and reproaches of spectators. In thelight of faith all this is folly and vanity; for in that light webehold the whole court of heaven, God and His angels watching with aninterest full of tenderness and solicitude not only our exterioractions, but even the secret movements of our souls. Could we have abetter or more appreciative audience to witness what we do? The verythought of their presence should inspire us with a disgust for thosevain desires that urge us to see and be seen by mankind in order tosecure to our actions the approbation of the multitude. Regulate yourconduct in this matter according to St. Paul's instruction toTimothy: _Let women be clothed in decent apparel, adorningthemselves with modesty and sobriety, not with platted hair, or goldor pearls, or costly attire. But, as it becometh women professinggodliness, with good works. _

Moreover, you labor under a great mistake if you think thatgaudiness in dress is necessary to render you attractive and inspirethose sentiments of esteem and affection which sometimes prepare theway to an advantageous alliance. Should you succeed by this means insecuring such a marriage, be assured that you deceive yourself; forthe man who, setting aside the qualities essential to woman, lets hisaffections be won by her outward charms only does her an injury, andprepares for her, as well as for himself, bitter regrets in thefuture. If you fully understand your true interest, both in this lifeand in the next, far from making your dress a means of attraction, you would tremble to owe to such vile contrivances the affectionbestowed on you. You would not compel by your vanity those who loveyou for your own good to pander to your self-love and encourage yournegligence. 

The sentiments that a woman awakens in the hearts of her admirersdraw their worth from the motives that inspire them, and this beingthe case, what value shall you set upon affections determined byempty show, and flattered by qualities purely exterior, unworthy ofthe attention of an intelligent being? Still, for some unaccountableor visionary reason, the greater part of women attach excessiveimportance to such puerile advantages, and neglect those that arecapable of making a deep and lasting impression upon valiant andnoble souls. If they are much depreciated in the esteem of those bywhom they would like to be loved and admired, the cause may be tracedto their own frivolity; let them labor with the same zeal tocultivate the heart and mind that they display upon external show, and they will more readily attract the attention of all who belong torefined and educated society. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

DESIRE TO PLEASE. 

AFTER having created man God saw that it was not good for him to bealone; and in order to console and cheer him in his solitude He tookfrom his side, near his heart, the material out of which He made hima companion. This origin of woman tells us more of her nature, andpoints out more clearly the end that God proposed to Himself increating her than the most elaborate and profound treatises or themost lucid theological theories. 

Man was made out of the slime of the earth, woman has been formedout of a body already organized and vivified by the breath of life;man has been created to reign over the world, to govern the animalswhich God placed under his control, woman has been created to beman's companion; to cheer him in his solitude, and share with him thepower and gifts which he received from God. 

Hence it is quite natural that woman should feel in the depths ofher heart a gnawing desire to please and be agreeable, for in thatshe only obeys the instinct of her nature. Still, woman would beabusing that instinct, and acting contrary to the designs ofProvidence, if she sought to please by means unworthy of her. 

Before plunging Adam into that mysterious sleep, God brought all theanimals before him, that he might see and know the extent of hisdominion. The sacred writer remarks, that among all those animalsAdam did not find a single being that resembled himself. He couldfind in none of those animals a sociable companion, because none ofthem had a soul like his, and consequently, could not share in thesweet joy that arises from an interchange of thoughts and sentiments, which constitutes the charming pith of life. 

Many of them surpassed him in bodily strength, fleetness andagility, many attracted his attention by the beauty of their form, bytheir wonderful instinct and industry. And God, through His unboundedgoodness, had planted in their very nature a desire or want ofattachment, an instinctive gratitude and fidelity, such, that itseemed impossible to desire anything more exquisite of the kind. Still, with all these advantages, man was unsatisfied, he required abeing like himself, possessing qualities superior to those found inirrational beings, one with whom his intelligence and heart mightcommune. 

You must have already penetrated the profound sense of the words ofthe sacred historian and obtained a clear knowledge of the end thatGod proposed to himself in creating woman. Yes, He has certainlywilled that you should be a messenger of consolation and comfort, that your mission should be, not to please and flatter the senses, which the animals did for Adam before Eve was created, but to meetthe wants of the mind and heart of man. 

Irrational beings suffice to please the senses and imagination;hence, if this is all that you propose to do, you put yourself incontradiction with the designs of God over you, and the grandeur ofyour destiny. You seem to say to God that it was not necessary forHim to create woman, that man could dispense with her, because theanimals subject to his empire sufficed to meet all the wants of hismind and heart. Do not debase and despise your noble nature by thusplacing yourself in the same category with animals, which can havenothing in common with the duties of your sublime mission. 

The senses are blind, impetuous and changeable in their instincts;inconstancy and change are so necessary to them, that, rather than becondemned to remain immutable, they readily quit a more agreeableobject for another very inferior, simply to satisfy that need ofchange inherent to their nature. Hence the strongest protestations, the most assiduous attentions, and the most active devotedness, though truly sincere in themselves, but when founded on the senses, are like smoke that disappears, even as the material that producesit. You will not have the right even to blame those who may deceiveyou in this way, because it is not in the power of man to conservefor any notable length of time a sentiment produced by the senses, and which has received no higher sanction than that of the imagination. 

The difference, however, between this abortive sentiment and agenuine one is so palpable and characteristic that it is impossibleto be mistaken in them, unless that we wilfully close our eyes to thetruth. But, alas! it must indeed be confessed that a vast number ofwomen wish to be deceived, not only in their discernment of thesentiment by which they are actuated, but also in their preferencefor it. And through some unaccountable blindness, they fear everything that might interfere with their cherished idol. They purposelyshut their eyes to the light of truth, preferring to deceive and bedeceived than to be obliged, on seeing the matter in its true light, to doubt the power of their frivolous charms; as a proof of this theleast compliment paid them for their beautiful or handsome appearanceputs them beside themselves so far as to make them forget to considerwhether such compliments are authorized by sincerity or flattery. 

In vain will you try to convince them that this is not the way inwhich a genuine sentiment is formed and manifested. It is useless totell them that such a sentiment does not spring up suddenly in theheart; that, on the contrary, its development is due to the processof a constant and almost insensible growth; being characteristicallymodest, calm, reserved, and even timid; having God for its firstconfidential friend, and pure souls for its tutors. It is labor invain to point out to them that an affection, unaccompanied by thenecessary precautions, should be repelled by a young lady as aninsult to the dignity of her sex. But they will readily listen to anylanguage that flatters their vanity, which paves the way to so manyfatal friendships that often entail a lifetime of woe and sorrow. 

When necessity or propriety requires your presence in society, somewhat brilliant, where you must inevitably come in contact withyoung men whom perhaps you do not know; then you should guard thesenses, the mind and the heart with vigilant care; without ceasing onthat account to be simple and natural in your whole demeanor; for themost vigilant are neither troubled nor embarrassed on account oftheir vigilance; yet excessive fear of being recreant either to dutyor propriety in such like circumstances, would only expose you togreater danger of falling into the snare you try to avoid, as itwould pre-occupy the mind and weaken the will. In such conjunctures, remain as near as possible to your mother, keeping your eyes fixedupon hers, always hearkening with a tender respect to the mysteriouslanguage that escapes from the maternal heart; a language easilyunderstood by a daughter that loves the virtue of filial piety. 

The mother's presence is always an infallible protection for youngladies; her looks are a book constantly open, and in which they canread her most secret thoughts; whether they approve or condemn theiractions. Whenever you are called on to participate in worldlyfestivities let your mother be your visible guardian angel; she willpreserve the innocence of your heart from the dangers that surroundyou. If you feel a secret desire to be relieved of your mother'spresence, as being something noxious to your liberty, rest assuredthat your heart has already lost something of its innocence andsimplicity. A daughter who dreads her mother's eye has evidentlyentered on a winding way, and ought to consider with suspicion thestate of her soul. There is no company that you should prefer to thatof your mother, no conversation that you should esteem more thanhers; there should be no pleasure that could engage you to forego thepleasure of being near her. God himself has placed those sentimentsin the hearts of young ladies in order to guard them against theseduction of the world and the attractions of false pleasures. Hestrengthens in their soul the virtue of filial piety, which forms animpregnable citadel around the heart, keeping it in perfect securityagainst the evil influences of wicked agents. 

Your conduct in every detail ought to be discreet and grave in thecompany of young men with whom you are unacquainted. If they speak toyou, answer them briefly modestly and with simplicity, butfearlessly. Let it be your constant endeavor to converse on subjectscapable of interesting a serious mind; in this way you can betterdivert their attention from frivolous topics, and prevent perhapsindiscreet questions or rash intimacies. 

It is well to advert to the fact that, in consequence of adeteriorated faith and virtue among young men, in whom a badeducation has oftentimes destroyed the happiest dispositions; manyamong them have lost that esteem, respect and veneration for woman soprevalent in the Christian ages prior to ours. Such, unfortunately, is the case in thousands of instances now-a-days; for when a youngman finds himself in company with a young lady his chief object is toamuse himself with her, if his heart, already vitiated, does notentertain desires more criminal still; he is unguarded in hisconversation, while displaying his talents, complimenting her forqualities which he interiorly believes her devoid of. 

Bear in mind that this young man with whom you are conversingwatches all your movements, studies all your looks, discusses andinterprets interiorly every word you speak; while treating with youhe plays the part of a cunning diplomatist whose wiles you happilyignore; but in order to escape from becoming his dupe, prudenceshould govern all your actions while in his company. 

Remember that there are in the world manners, gestures and attitudesthat constitute a conventional language, but which hold nothing incommon with the genuine sentiments of the heart, being like acounterfeit money which vanity pays and receives. It is one of themost dangerous snares for a young girl whose simplicity and candorare yet intact. Those qualities, so precious in themselves, aresometimes prejudicial to her safety from the perfidy of a heartalready skilful in the art of deceiving. For, judging others by herown heart, she cannot suspect those who converse with her of wickeddesigns. She accepts all that is told her as the sincere expressionof the heart, and very often receives for a genuine affection what isonly hypocrisy and deception. 

If you are acquainted with the young men whom you meet in the world, you should know how to treat with them; yet experience proves thatfor the most part a young lady is little posted in matters of thisnature. If the mind is already poisoned by the distemper ofincredulity, if the heart is already vitiated, if they have justlywon by their evil conduct a sad notoriety in the world, if they areof that class that seek to take the advantage of woman's simplicityby rendering vice agreeable to her in their own person; oh, youcannot treat them with too great severity. Your language, your looks, your attitude, should repel them from or command a respectful fear inyour presence. Do not fear to wound their feelings, or to beimpolite, or indecorous in their regard. An obstinate reserve, asevere demeanor, is all that you owe them. Treating them with thatcourtesy due to gentlemen would prove noxious to you, as they wouldnot fail to make of it a plausible reason to justify their insolentconduct and rash judgments; be not deceived, the slightest mark ofbenevolence that they would receive from you would be immediatelyinterpreted by them in the most perfidious manner. They detest virtueas much as you detest vice. They have a sovereign contempt for everywoman, for they believe that she is unable to resist the allurementsof pleasure. 

They are mutual confidentials, and tell each other, with deplorablelevity, all that young ladies innocently say to them; wickedlymisconstruing their intentions, exaggerating what was true, andtreating with sneering contempt those who were simple enough tobelieve in the sincerity of their hypocritical compliments. Mostassuredly you have not the slightest desire of becoming the subjectof the scandalous conversation of those men; you have but one means, however, of guarding yourself against their venomous tongue; that is, to exact from them a respectful deference by the gravity of yourdemeanor, and the severity of your relations with them. 

If, on the contrary, you meet with young men who, with a livelyfaith, have conserved the purity of their hearts, and as aconsequence of these virtues, all due respect for woman, you can showthem greater confidence, and let them feel that you highly esteemthem for their virtues, without, however, renouncing the precautionsadvised by prudence while in their company. It is in such encountersthat your conversation should reveal a serious turn of mind, carefully avoiding every thing that would intimate undue confidenceor intimacy; for the heart of a young lady should never be on herlips; except with regard to her mother, she should keep it buried inthe depths of her soul to converse familiarly only with God and Hisangels. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

CURIOSITY. 

CURIOSITY is a defect that seems to be particularly inherent to theheart of woman, and which, when not properly governed, never fails toentail the most disastrous consequences. Through it they havefrequently acquired a knowledge of evil and a disgust for virtue. Youare well aware that curiosity was the door through which sin anddeath enter the world; that when the devil sought our destruction hemade use of woman's curiosity. Now, it is well not to lose sight ofthe fact that woman is always the daughter of Eve. She feels apressing desire to see what pleases the mind, flatters the senses, and enlivens the imagination. Eager for vivid emotions, she seeksthem with an insatiable avidity; and, rather than feel nothing, sheprefers painful emotions, finding a certain secret charm even in thefits of sorrow and pains of her imagination. Her great desire to seeand hear whatever tends to excite or create emotion is in a greatmeasure the source of her curiosity. The education that women for themost part receive develops this disposition of the heart: aneducation which, instead of elevating the mind and giving it a tastefor serious things, narrows it, and accustoms it to feed uponaliments that are trivial and void of consistency. The mind requiresto he kept in constant activity, and since thoughts alone can do thisthey should be such as to amply furnish it with solid and wholesomefood, for all kinds of thoughts are not equally good for it, no morethan all kinds of food are equally good for the body. In some kindsof food the quantity and quality of nutriment are much inferior towhat they are found to be in other kinds. Hence greater moderation isrequired in the use of the latter than in that of the former, otherwise the stomach, overcharged, would soon become disgusted withit. 

On the other hand, no quantity of food void of nutritious qualitieswill ever appease hunger. The same thing may be said of the kind ofthoughts with which the mind is fed; some are used less for theirsound and wholesome nutriment than for their efficiency to flattersensuality, inflame the passions, create new wants in the heart, andexcite a depraved curiosity. Under this regime the mind is starvedand tortured by an incessant hunger. It sadly languishes and pines inthe grip of famine; and all this in the midst of full and plenty, butthis abundance contains no nutriment, it is made up of news, whethertrue or false, which amuses without satiating; still the mind enliststhe service of the senses to gather it up from all sides. The eyes, continually gaping and watching what passes before them, present themind with numberless images to amuse it in its weary or lonesomemoments. 

Hence that insatiable thirst to see and observe every thing, thatinconstancy and want of changing from one place to another, thatdesire to read useless and frivolous books, novels, weeklies andmagazines, which for the most part enervate the mind by theirfutilities, trouble and darken it by a multitude of incoherent imagesand contradictory thoughts, and poison the heart by foul and filthyimages that will constantly torment the soul. 

The ears are on the alert to catch every report, every murmur, allkinds of news, detractions and calumnies, stories and scandals. I sayall kinds of news, no--I make a mistake, it is only such news as isof an exciting or startling nature to break up the monotony of life. Hence those indiscreet questions which provoke answers moreindiscreet still; those rash revelations made by thoughtless youngladies, those prying efforts to discover things which only existperhaps in their own imagination, and of which they should live inholy ignorance. 

Hence those long conversations, discussing the vices and evil doingsof others, in which justice and charity are discarded, and iniquitydrank like water. Few forego the criminal satisfaction ofparticipating in those detestable conversations, and fewer still, alas! reproach themselves at night for the detractions and calumniescommitted, permitted, or provoked during the day, and by a monstrousunion they couple with those deeds the external practices of piety. 

This is but a feeble picture of the frightful condition of a mindstarved for want of solid and wholesome food, and poisoned by theempty frothings of vanity and passion. Curiosity is the constantcompanion of this mediocrity of the mind and poverty of the heart. Inorder to avoid this fatal rock, no pains should be spared, and if, unfortunately, you have already drank at its poisoned sources, hastento use every available means to arrest its ravages. To insuresuccess, do not amuse yourself with lopping off the branches of theevil, allowing the root to remain, do at once what is essential: feedyour mind and heart with a genuine love for the true and beautiful. 

A frivolous woman is invariably curious, and a curious woman alwaysfinishes by becoming the dupe and victim of her curiosity. Toovercome an inordinate love for sights and news you must accustom themind's eye to feast on the panoramic beauties of nature, and confineyourself to the company of persons of your own age, in whom youremark an elevated mind and heart, --lovers of what is truly good andgrand. 

Curiosity has its source, also, in another defect which becomesdaily more and more prevalent--it is a want of forethought andreflection, arising from a volatile and frivolous mind. Few, indeed, are lovers of the interior life; all seem to be bent on parading themind and heart, the imagination and senses. Now, when man has notlearned the art of living and conversing with himself, he becomeswearisome and sometimes dangerous to himself when alone; because themind, not knowing how to occupy itself, and not finding in its ownresources the thoughts that elevate and nourish it, is obliged, inorder to avoid lonesomeness, to dwell upon images which at leastdistract and weaken it, and not unfrequently disturb the peace of theheart. 

Religion, always inspired by God in the choice and formation of theterms which it employs to convey the ideas that it wishes to impressupon the heart, has invented two words, which admirably express themeaning of the concentration of the faculties of the soul, --in otherwords, that society or cohabitation of man with himself--they are_self-composure and recollection. _

These words express that state or power of the will by which itholds complete control over all the faculties of the soul; so thatsensibility can have no command over any of their operations. Thusshielded from this turbulent disturber they are enabled to laborpeacefully and efficiently in their interior province or the soul. 

The advantages secured by interior recollection are so great and theconsequence of its absence so prejudicial that the Holy Ghostdistinctly declares its absence to be the cause of all the evils thatdesolate the earth. _"With desolation is the earth laid desolatebecause there is no one who thinketh in his heart. "_ This is aterrible truth, but it is not the less real on that account. To beconvinced of this you need only descend into your own heart, and youwill soon discover that the want of interior recollection has beenthe cause of the most of your faults. It is during the interiorcomposure of the soul's faculties that we understand what the Lordsays. _I will hear what the Lord God will speak in me, for he willspeak peace unto them that are converted to the heart. _ (Psalm 84. )

But if we find nothing in the heart but trouble and obscurity wemust naturally find many pretexts to justify our preoccupation withexternal things; and like a man, finding his house the abode of painand displeasure, remains away from it as long as possible, we, too, will shun as far as possible the scene of our misery. It is, therefore, of most vital importance for you to form in your own heartan agreeable and useful society with which you can always converse. This society you carry with you wherever you go, for you are withyourself at all times; and since you have not always the satisfactionto enjoy the company of others you should learn how to turn to goodaccount this privation by making it an incentive to cultivate withindustry an agreeable society in your own heart; and the best way toinsure the success of this work is to accustom yourself to conversewith God who is always present in your heart, except when you expelhim by mortal sin. 

The work itself must be made up of pious readings, meditation andprayer, which will furnish you with such thoughts and affections aswill prove to be constant friends in pain as in joy; hasten to amassthese honeyed treasures during the noon-tide of life; for the winterwill soon come upon you, the flowers of life shall lose their perfumeand their withered corolla shall be strewn on the ground. Then youwill not have time to enrich the soul with the longed-for booty whenyou will be reduced to the miserable condition of those women whoendeavor to conceal the poverty of their mind and heart by a foolishand puerile deception. 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

MEDITATION AND REFLECTION. 

Meditation and reflection are two words that express two shades ofdifference of the same idea. In meditation we consider supernaturalthings pertaining to our eternal salvation. The soul maintainsherself with difficulty in the love and practice of virtue withoutthe help derived from meditation; for when she gives it up, herfervor in piety grows lax, temptations became more frequent andobstinate, often followed by humiliating falls. 

You are well aware that the real object of the Christian's life uponearth is to establish God's kingdom in our heart; and this is whatforms the object of the second petition that we address to God everyday in the Lord's prayer; and since the kingdom of God is entirelyinterior, as Jesus Christ himself tells us, when He says: _thekingdom of God is within us, _ we should acquire the habit oflooking for God in our own heart; but in order to find Him there wemust give Him a place in it by meditation and prayer. 

The advantages derived from meditation are so numerous and so great, that it is a matter of surprise why it is not more universallypractised; for the effects that it produces in the souls of those whoare faithful to its practice are so striking that it is easy todiscern a man given to this habit from those who are entire strangersto its holy influence. Meditation teaches us to know God and ourself;it lays open to us our faults and vices, their source and fatalconsequences and the arms we should employ to combat them. Finally, meditation contributes most efficiently to form our minds and purifyour hearts, to fortify the will and develop in us the habit ofreflecting. 

The knowledge of God and ourself is such an important factor in thework of our spiritual perfection that St. Augustin constantly prayedfor it, saying: _"Lord grant that I may know Thee and myself. "_The pagans themselves well understood the advantage of this mostimportant science, even for the securing of the happiness of thislife; since they had the following words inscribed, as a summary ofall human science, upon the frontispiece of the most celebratedtemple of Greece, _know thou thyself_. But, alas! this knowledgeis as rare as it is necessary; with a mind absorbed by distractions, and a heart harassed by passions, we flee, so to speak, from God andfrom ourselves. 

Where is the Christian that knows God? Do you presume that you knowfull well what He is, what He has done for you, and what He stilldoes for you every day? Every moment you receive His gifts: your lifeis due to His beneficence and His love, you are carried in the bosomof His providence as in the arms of your mother, He is continuallypreoccupied with your welfare, He has done all, created all thingsfor your comfort and happiness; for your sake he has become man, toparticipate in all the infirmities, weakness and miseries of ourhumanity, in order to heal them and console us. Every thing speaks ofHim, and proclaims His holy name to you. All that you see, all thatyou hear and feel must recall to your mind some gift of His love, orsome effect of His mercy. All creatures in heaven and on earth arelike so many voices which, mingling in a harmonious concert, sing toyou His praises and publish His mercies. 

Do you listen to them? Do they not pass you unperceived like theflitting zephyrs' leaving no trace to mark their passage. Did youever seriously try to render an account of the attributes of God, andparticularly of His goodness and justice? of His goodness to endearHim to all, and of His justice to make Him be feared by all. Have youconsidered well that to know God is to know all, because He is theAuthor of all creation possessing in Himself to an infinite degreeall the perfections of His creation?

He who does not labor to obtain a knowledge of God can scarcelyobtain any knowledge of himself. How is it possible for us to knowwhat we are while we ignore what God is for us and what we owe Him?Oh, how few there are who know themselves! The first conditionnecessary to secure this knowledge, so important and so precious, isprofound humility, which unsparingly reveals the real motive of allour actions, the uncompromising antagonist of our pride and self-love. 

Now it is quite evident that he who does not know God does notpossess this virtue; for how can a man humble himself before a beingthat he ignores? At first sight it may seem that there is nothing soeasy as to know one's self, --that this knowledge may be obtained by aclose consideration of the heart's operations; but when we give thematter sufficient thought the work does not appear to be so easy. Andthe number of those who have acquired this knowledge to any noteddegree is so limited that we are forced to infer that a knowledge sorare must offer great difficulties. 

However, there is one thing certain, namely: that this knowledge isnot obtained in the midst of tumult and pleasures, from theseductions of the world or the distractions of life. It is not byfleeing one's-self as we would fly an enemy; by concealing with acomplaisant but perfidious veil our defects, to avoid being troubledby their appearance--always painful to pride; it is not by living adreamy life of fiction to which the slaves of the world condemnthemselves with a deplorable obsequiousness; it is not by continuallytrying to deceive ourselves and others that we may learn how to knowourselves; and, just as our knowledge of material things increases bythe frequency of our relations with them--for instance we knowpersons better with whom we are intimately acquainted than those withwhom we are comparatively strangers--so, likewise, in order to knowourselves well, we must live intimately with ourselves, observeclosely and impartially all the movements of our mind and heart, frequently descending into the depth of our soul, scrupulouslyexamining our thoughts, desires and actions, sparing no pains todiscern well their source and motives; this latter portion of thework is, without doubt, the most difficult, since it is the point atwhich all the passions unite to deceive us by the most subtleillusions. The best actions are despoiled of their merit by certainmotives of vanity, often concealed from our own notice. 

The motives by which we are actuated are, relative to our actions, what the eye is relative to our body, --it is the motive that giveslight and brilliancy to our actions. This is the sense in which weshould understand our Lord when He says if our eye be simple ourwhole body will be luminous. Now the great light by which we canclearly see the motives for which we act is meditation. 

In the peaceful calm of solitude, and in the silent slumber of thepassions, meditation puts us in presence of ourselves, before our owneyes, by which we see ourselves as in a true mirror. Meditationteaches us to judge without prejudice what we have done and todetermine with propriety what we should do, by making the experienceof the past our lamp for the future, and by converting past mistakesinto practical lessons for the present. 

The meditative and recollected soul will turn even her shortcomingsto good account; seeing her delinquencies, she clothes herself withthe mantle of humility, she rises with renewed confidence, and shunswith greater care the occasion of those evils from which she hassuffered; she is rarely taken by surprise, a few moments' reflectionwill suffice for her to determine what is to be done under thecircumstances; she is rarely taken in the snare of deception, for sheknows that human nature is weak, vacillating and unreliable, and, consequently, she keeps herself on her guard. 

Considered from this point of view; meditation is particularlynecessary to woman, because, being endowed with a very livelyimagination and a tender heart, she is more exposed to illusionswhich, for the most part, spring from those two sources. Moreover, surrounded as she is, by the seductions of the world; breathingincessantly the poisoned atmosphere of flattery and adulation; waitedon by men who seek to deceive her; distracted by a multitude of careswhich absorb her soul; lost in a painful detail of trifles; how willshe be able to resist the united action of those trials; if she hasnot contracted the salutary habit of frequently conversing with herown heart by holy meditation and recollection?

The precious habit of meditation makes its influence felt by all thefaculties of the soul. It imparts to the mind the love of solitude, assurance and confidence to the judgment, consistency to all thethoughts. It is by reflecting on what we interiorly feel, as well ason what we exteriorly see, that we enrich our intelligence andacquire that cheerful alacrity and firmness of purpose so necessaryand precious in the most trying and delicate circumstances of life. 

A woman of an irreflective mind becomes an easy prey to her ownimpressions; rarely ever seeing things in their true light she isballoted from one illusion to another, from one error to another; shebelieves in every thing, hopes for all that she desires, and desiresall that flatters her. Unable to render an exact account either ofthe thoughts of her mind or the movements of her heart, she actswithout aim or motive, governed solely by the caprice of herimagination or the impulse of whimsical humor; equanimity isimpossible in the midst of such confusion. All this will have a fataleffect upon her spiritual welfare; for what shocked her some time agowill now fail to make the slightest impression. The bloom of youthwill soon fade away, leaving to her only confused souvenirs of thosedays when, to be happy, it sufficed for her to descend into her ownsoul, where she always found peace and consolation. 

If you wish to preserve in all their integrity the faculties of yoursoul; if you would not have your life ruled by the caprice of theimagination; contract at an early age the salutary and happy customof making your meditation. Set apart a special time for it every day, let it be practical, having for its object the spiritual progress ofyour soul, the sanctification of your life. Lay out in God's presencewhat you have to do every day, recall to mind the places, persons andthings that have been to you an occasion of sin, or a help in theexercise of virtue, in order to avoid the evil accruing from the onesource, and increase the influence arising from the other. Neverrecline your head upon your pillow before having rendered an exactaccount of the day you have just finished, like the merchant who, every night, tots up his loss and gain, to see what has been theresult of the day's transactions. The next day, with the doublearmour of experience and resolve, you will be better able to avoidwhat proved noxious before, as well as to do the good that you hadomitted. By thus acting you will give to your life a sure direction, a powerful impetus in the accomplishment of all that is worthy ofyour glorious destiny. 

CHAPTER XIX. 

OBEDIENCE TO PARENTS. 

In the natural order of things, man, after having obeyed his parentsin his youth, becomes in turn the head of another family which hemust govern by the authority of his word and example. God has givento woman another vocation. She obeys from her childhood, andobedience becomes more necessary to her as she advances in years; forwhen she quits the paternal roof for the one of her choice, it isstill to obey and be directed by the will of another. But in thissecond moiety of her life she often finds the practice of obediencemore difficult and painful than it was when she lived with herparents. More than once has the young woman, allured by the deceitfulcharms of a false liberty, left with a secret joy the paternal roof, hoping thereby to be delivered from the duty of obedience whichweighed so heavily on her heart. But, alas! she has often beenobliged to regret those days as the happiest of her life, when thetender solicitude of a mother rendered submission sweet and easy. 

God, whose Providence is infinitely wise, has disposed all things insuch a way that each epoch of life is a preparation to that whichfollows; strengthened by the labors of the past, we are fitted forthose of the future, and prepared for the accomplishment of theduties of to-day by our fidelity to obligations less difficult ofyesterday; we are thus imperceptibly and safely conducted by thisgraded scale to the end for which we were created. 

Hence you may consider the present as your noviciate to the future;the family circle at home is the image of that with which you mustlive at a later time; and while your duties and trials will vary withyour position, there is one obligation that always remainsinvariable; that is obedience. If you have learned well how to obeyyour parents whom God has given you, you will find it easier in afterlife to bend your will when obliged in submission to that of another. 

At present holy obedience is not painful to you; on the contrary, itis a pleasure, as it is a means by which you can please your dearparents whom you love; and by force of habit it is now so deeplyengraved in your heart as to be an act of second nature. But othertimes and other circumstances will present new difficulties, whenperhaps you will be obliged to obey a man of your own age, possessedof none of those qualities that give authority and prestige to command. 

The familiarity that exists between the married couple which, whentruly Christian, is one of the greatest charms of their life, notunfrequently becomes for woman an obstacle to the observance ofobedience; but she has reason to rejoice when her delinquency doesnot diminish the sacred authority of her husband's commands. The ladywho has been docile to the orders of her parents will be docile tothose of her husband; for as we are assured by Holy Writ, ouraccomplishment of the duties that God has imposed on us relative toour parents is rewarded even in this life; as likewise ourdelinquencies on this point will incur heaven's displeasure. 

The paternal home should be for you a school of respect, obedience, gratitude, and love; and these virtues should be constantlymanifested in your conduct; for, mark it well, you will be in theposition destined for you later by God what you are presently in thatwhich you now occupy. There is a logical succession in all ouractions, whether good or bad. In each one of your actions may befound the germ of another which, being developed in due time, willproduce others. The same is also true of that happy or unfortunatesuccession of thoughts and affections which is developed into habit;and which is engrafted in our very souls, forming, as it were, anintegral part of our nature. From our infancy, God, in His infinitegoodness, has given us a facility to do good, which in the course oftime can be strengthened by habit; it will enable us to surmountobstacles and dangers that increase with age, but which are ignoredin childhood. 

The individual practice of respect, obedience, confidence; andgratitude is necessary for the preservation of society; and in orderto render this practice easy for us, God, in loving goodness hasremoved from those beautiful flowers of virtue, whose perfume shouldembalm our whole life, the thorns that might pierce us. He hasconfided their care to those to whom, after God, we owe our life, andtowards whom we are drawn by an invincible inclination of the heart. When we merge into the noon-tide of life we find these virtuesalready engrafted in our souls, with little trouble to us, for theywere planted there by the hands of good and pious parents; and, as areward for our fidelity to their instructions, those cherishedvirtues take deep root in the heart and grow imperceptibly as weadvance in years. 

But if, instead of being docile to their orders, we have stubbornlyresisted them, if, by some unaccountable egotism, the soul has becomeconcentrated in herself; and instead of giving our confidence andlove to those who have so generously given their life and means tosecure to us the happiness we enjoy, we rest satisfied with living onthe fruits of their labors without making them any return; we willcarry with us later on into the family of our choice only a witheredheart, dead to every noble and generous sentiment. 

You should respect and honor your parents with the filial love of aChristian daughter. Such is the precise meaning of the precept givenyou by God in their regard: _Honor thy father and thy mother!_Relative to you they hold God's place, who is the source of allpaternity in heaven and upon earth. Nothing can dispense you fromthis respect which God requires for them, and which nature ought torender easy to you; for, even when your parents would suffer by acriminal negligence the image of God to be deteriorated in theirsouls; they always remain His representatives for you, because theyare always, no matter what they may do, the instruments that Godemployed to give you existence. 

The faults of your parents should never diminish in your heart therespect and honor that you owe them; and in certain painful anddelicate circumstances, you should imitate the example of the twosons of Noah in order to escape the malediction that fell upon Chamfor his impudent strictures of his father's faults. You shouldcarefully draw the mantle of charity over any fault of your parentsthat might tend to weaken your respect for them. Silence should sealyour lips forever on all their shortcomings, even before those whoknow them, unless that it be to ask advice in some criticalconjuncture, or bring them to receive some useful and charitablecounsel. God alone should be the depository of your sorrowfulconfidence in this matter. To Him alone you should confide yoursorrows and alarms, because He alone should hold the first place inyour mind and heart, for He will be your judge as well as theirs. 

If you see that a salutary effect may be obtained by a prudent andrespectful observation, be slow in making it, and never act beforehaving consulted some virtuous and enlightened persons; should theyadvise you in the affirmative, let your observation assume the toneof a remonstration rather than a warning. Your language, actions orgestures should never savor of anything that betrayed a disregard forthat profound veneration with which you should honor in them thetitle of God's representatives in your regard. An unfortunate custom, the fruit of a bad education, or of an excessive tenderness on thepart of parents, has sadly vitiated the nature and form of therelations that should exist between child and parent. 

During the present century in many places a fatal familiarity seemsto have sapped the very foundation from that profound respect whichwas the honor and glory of the Christian family, and the salt thatpreserves nations from corruption; that respect which children, whotruly feared God, paid to their parents. To that beautiful order thatreigned in the Christian family, and which preserved inviolable thefather's authority in Christian times, has succeeded a spirit ofequality as hostile to the natural order as to the order of DivineProvidence, since it destroys both rank and duty. It gives birth tothat false independence which may justly be called the seed ofrevolution and anarchy; no consequence is more natural, for what canbe expected of a citizen who imbibed in his childhood, under thepaternal roof, the spirit of disobedience and insubordination, whowas taught to regard superiority with a jealous eye, and treat withcontempt those who are beneath him. 

After paying due respect to your parents, they should be, after God, the depositories of your confidence, and since a daughter's wants aremore easily communicated to her mother, it is in her mother's heartthat a Christian daughter will deposit the secrets of her own. Thisfilial confidence supposes, also, in a young lady a sincerediffidence in her self, a consciousness of her own weakness which, sofar from being a fault, is the result of true humility. Those youngladies who are wanting in confidence in their own mothers are indeedgreat objects of compassion. For this confidence is not only anessential condition to their advancement in virtue, but also one oftheir principal safeguards against deception and intrigue. 

The heart of woman, especially at your age, feels an imperative needof making a confidant of some one, and if that one is not her mother, it will be some friend who, perhaps, will not possess greaterexperience nor more wisdom or force than herself, and consequently, instead of giving the proper counsel, will add evil to evil by thefatal help of encouragement in a course that should be abandoned. Rest assured that you can never find any one able to fill themother's place in this regard. This unreserved abandonment to amother's confiding heart is not always possible, since death ofteninterferes. When such is the case it is a great misfortune for ayoung lady--a misfortune that can scarcely be retrieved in herlifetime. It is easy to recognise a woman whose soul has beenfostered in that of her mother. Such women ordinarily possess amilder disposition, a more amiable ingenuousness, with a certainsimplicity of heart which, without being prejudicial in the least toher mind, adds a new charm to the noble and generous virtues whichbecome the mother of a family. Those habits of confidence andabandonment contracted from childhood have made frankness andsincerity second nature. Their love for truth and sincerity isrevealed in their conversation, the sanctity of which is the echo oftheir souls. Their whole demeanor sheds such a halo of delight aroundthem that they become, unpretentiously, the centre of attraction forall those whose enviable pleasure it is to be honored by their company. 

If up to this hour you have concealed nothing from your mother; ifyou have given her the key to your soul; if your heart is for her anopen book; if she can at all times read in your looks your verythoughts; on bended knees thank God from the depths of your soul forhaving given you such a mother, and the grace of giving her yourconfidence. If you remain a child to your mother you will preserveyour youth through the toilsome days of life to a ripe old age, anadvantage so precious that nothing should be left undone to secure it. 

Woman is pleasing to others only in as much as she possesses thisadornment, which exhales a sweet odor like the perfume of youth. Alas! how many women there are who have never been children even withtheir mothers. Women from their youth, they have treated their motherwith a kind of diffidence, dissembling at an age when the only dangerto be feared should be an excessive confidence. 

As for the gratitude and love that you owe your parents, I wouldregard it as an injury offered to the candor of your age and thesincerity of your heart to undertake to prove that these areobligations which you are in duty bound to discharge. God who hascommanded us to honor our parents, left us no precept obliging us tolove them; but while He engraved other commandments upon stone thisone He has written in the very essence of our being. Hence I appealonly to your heart in this matter, leaving you entirely to itsinstincts to point out to you your duty, which to assert by any otherproof, I fear would lead you to suspect that there are childrenunnatural enough to forget and neglect their parents. 

Bear in mind, however, that your love and gratitude for them must byno means be restricted to a sentiment of the heart or an instinct ofnature. Those virtues must find an echo both in your words andactions. Love founded on sensibility has no signification, if you canmake no sacrifice to obey or please them. Love in man is effective, and this is why our Lord tells us with regard to the love we owe Him:_He who loves me keeps my commandments. _

To love consists in pleasing him who is loved; it is prefering hiswill to our own, his interests to ours; in a word, it is to seek himrather than attract him; it is to become his property rather than toappropriate him; it is to forget ourself to think of him. Love livesupon sacrifices; as the pious author of the Following of Christ says:_where love is, there is also pain: but love converts that paininto pleasure. _ If this be true of all the affections of the humanheart; what shall we think of the one that we have first felt, andwhich in some way forms a part of our very nature?

CHAPTER XX. 

MELANCHOLY. 

It will perhaps seem strange to you to be warned in the bloom ofyouth against a sentiment that seems to be reserved for that periodof life when delinquents, through the infinite goodness of God, arebrought to enter into themselves; when the illusions of the hearthave been replaced by a cold and sad reality; when hope seems torecoil under the weight of sad recollections. Still, because thismental canker preys on the most vital interests of the soul, andbecause a predisposition to it is found to prevail even among theyouthful portion of your sex, a certain knowledge of it is necessaryin order to resist it effectually. 

It is most delightful and consoling to find in persons of your ageand sex that pure joy, so frank and candid, springing out of theinnocence and simplicity of the heart; a good conscience and a livelyfaith, with unbounded confidence in Divine Providence; all of whichcombine to produce that sweet and saintly cheerfulness which dilatesthe heart and lights up the soul with its amiable reflections. But, alas! we confess with deep regret, that many young ladies have beenruthlessly robbed of all those charms by a precocious developmentreceived under the world's tutorship, by which they have been made tocross with a bound the smiling season of hope and joy, to a prematureold age before having tasted the charms of youth. 

In order that joy may reign in the heart, the heart must firstrepose in the bosom of Divine Providence--free from the pressure ofdoleful souvenirs, and from the pestering desires stirred up byvanity; in a word, exempt from every obstacle, whether intrinsic orextrinsic, that might in any way oppose the designs of God. But, alas! by some unaccountable inconsistency, we are in contradictionwith ourselves; for, notwithstanding our great desire to live, andour horror of death, still we seem to be in a hurry with the time topass, as though we advanced too slowly to the grave. 

Now, we are well aware that of this lifetime the present is all thatwe can claim, the past and future being in the hands of God; still, true to the same principle of inconsistency we make little or no useof the present, it is something annoying that we wish, to get over, as quickly as possible, while we are absorbed by a countlessmultitude of useless but importunate desires relative to the past, which we can never recall, and the future, which perhaps we shallnever see. 

Hence, as we journey onward in this way, we must naturally findourselves a prey to fears and doubts, sometimes suspended betweenhope and despondency, while the heart is harassed by corrodingdesires that succeed each other like waves on a tempest-driven sea. We wish to be our own providence, to dispose of our own future of ourlifetime according to those desires, instead of leaving that work toHim from whom we have received all that we possess. 

When we are assailed by regrets in the evening, and filled withanxieties for the morrow, how can our heart rebound with joy, or ourlips wear the smile of confidence and tranquility? Behold some of themany sources from which the fatal fiend of melancholy is fed andstrengthened. But this vile destroyer of peaceful joy springs fromanother source not less fatal than those just mentioned. That is acertain vagueness of mind and heart, which is sometimes the result ofsome physical or bodily indisposition, but more frequently theconsequence of an imperfect education, or indifference in the serviceof God. 

That which gives to the mind its needed assurance and strength, andto the heart its consistency and solidity, is a lively faith, nourished and sustained by a sincere piety. Of this you arethoroughly convinced, as you know full well that faith alone can givea solid basis to our thoughts, a true direction to our desires, andan eternal destiny to our hopes. Without faith the mind is withoutballast--unsettled as to what it ought to believe or reject; theheart ignores what it should fear or hope for; in a word, the soul islost in the midst of her vacillating desires. 

In order that faith may impart its vivifying influence it mustpenetrate the soul's substance, and become to her the principle of anew life, directing all her movements, animating all her thoughts, desires and hopes. A superficial and inactive faith that is purelyexterior, satisfied with believing what God reveals, withoutquickening the spiritual pulsations of the soul, will not preserveher from that vagueness and uncertainty which deprive all objects oftheir natural colors, and lend them a sombre shade which saddens theheart. 

If you would escape falling a victim to melancholy, preserve yourfaith with precious care, enliven it constantly by fervent prayer, bymeditation and the abundant graces received through the Sacraments. Let its pure light be the rule of your thoughts and actions, accustomyour mind to dwell upon things that are practical, and consequentlyuseful, sedulously avoiding all speculative or doubtful topics, thathave no other result than to keep the mind in a state of suspense andindecision. You will fare better in having a clear knowledge ofpractical things, even at the cost of appearing less learned thanothers. 

A third source of melancholy is a species of mental idleness, concerning which women are exposed to labor under a false impression. As they are naturally given to manual occupation habit begets withthem an antipathy to mental labor; their judgment is readily buterroneously convinced by their feelings, which easily lead them tobelieve that they are sufficiently occupied when their fingers areengaged in fixing an embroidery or something similar. To reason thematter, they will readily admit that labor exclusively manual havingno share in the exercise of the mental faculties, cannot beconsidered to give sufficient occupation to an intelligent being;since the imagination would be left to the mercy of its caprices andthe heart to the whims of its desires, which is not worthy of a beingcreated to the image and likeness of God, who commands us to labor asHe labored, namely: with mind and heart constantly supplying usefulthoughts to the one and noble sentiments to the other. 

Such is the heavenly duty enjoined by those consoling words of ourSaviour: _pray always_. At first sight it would seem that suchan obligation is impossible and contrary to human nature. We cannot, however, even suppose that He who has made man what he is, misunderstood his nature so far as to command him to doimpossibilities. 

Every thought that raises the mind towards God, every sentiment thatbrings the heart near to Him, is a prayer. Hence there is nooccupation that may not become a prayer, since there is none that maynot be referred to God. The duties and obligations of woman, far frombeing an obstacle to the practical exercise of the above principle, on the contrary favor its execution most admirably; for her duties, though of the manual order for the most part, are not of a nature todistract the mind or absorb the heart; she can easily and constantlyconcentrate the thoughts of the one and the affections of the otherupon God. 

That you should make God the object of all your actions is yourfirst and most imperative duty, and the moment that you dischargeyour duties for any other end that moment they shall lose the dignityof deeds worthy of a Christian or even of a rational being; moreover, your mind, as you are fully aware, is endowed with perpetualactivity, it is never idle, --you need only chose the objects to whichyou wish to apply it. But if you fail to apply it to things worthy ofyour sublime calling it will soon escape from your control, and, flitting from one trifle to another, it will meddle with objects thatmight become dangerous to the peace of your soul. It will soon becomepreoccupied by puerile fears, unfounded apprehensions, vague sadness, which, when constantly indulged in, will deliver your soul over tomelancholy which never fails to tarnish the purity of the heart andenervate the energy of the will. 

The pain that many suffer from their imaginary ills robs them of thenoble and generous love of compassionating the real and painfulgriefs of others. Egotism is nurtured and fortified in those ravingswhich attach the soul's energies to the consideration of our own illsor sorrows; the heart grows cold and hardened in a deplorableinsensibility which estranges it to every sentiment of pity andcompassion for others. 

There is, I am aware, a sorrow that is salutary to the soul, andconformable to the spirit of Christianity, as also to man's conditionin this vale of tears. I know that it is very difficult to be alwaysjoyful, when we take into account the dangers by which we aresurrounded, the countless calamities to which we are exposed sincethe day that sin had entered the world. We very often see the objectsof our warmest affections disappear from around us; and every daysome new misfortune or some new loss adds some new tears to our cupof sorrow, from whose bitterness every one is doomed to drink duringlife. 

Far from me be the thought of engaging you to fly this holy sorrowimposed by our condition and recommended by our Lord Himself. _"There is, "_ says St. Paul, _"a sorrow according_ to God"which, far from plunging the heart into a state of despondency, enables the soul to avoid the dangers which constantly expose her tolose God by sin. But this sorrow does not trouble the peace of eitherthe heart or the mind, for it is that sorrow which our divine Saviourcalled blessed, and for which He has promised consolation. 

Far be from me, also, the thought of advising that foolish andboisterous joy which carries away the soul, absorbing all herenergies filling her with void and disgust. This joy, far from beinga remedy or a protection against melancholy, is, on the contrary, both its cause and effect. The result of those intemperate paroxysmsof joy, so little in conformity with our nature is that whichinvariably results from any forced or undue influence. 

When shackled nature recovers her liberty she revenges the violencethat she was made to endure. But, seizing her rights with too greatavidity, she suffers more from the reaction than from the force thatinfringed upon them. This explains the reason of those fitfuloutbursts of joy and grief that pass in quick succession. Thosepuerile fears, followed by hopes, without rule or aim, that vainconfidence giving place to sad discouragement. Those despondentfeelings after moments of zealous fever, during which we seem to beable to do and attempt everything. Here we find the solution of thosesudden and varied shades of temperament which will instantaneouslycheer or prostrate the energies of the soul. 

If you would preserve your soul from melancholy, conserve your heartin a calm composure, your mind in a just equanimity keeping bothequally distant from all extremes able to taste joy with discretion, and sorrow without becoming discouraged. This will be putting inpractice the advice of the wise man: Give not up thy soul to sadnessand afflict not thyself in thy own counsel. The joyfulness of theheart is the life of man and a never-failing treasure of holiness, and the joy of man is length of life. Have pity on thy own soul, pleasing God and contain thyself; gather up thy heart in his holinessand drive away sadness far from thee. For sadness hath killed manyand there is no profit in it. Envy and anger shorten a man's days, and pensiveness will bring old age before the time. A cheerful andgood heart is always feasting, for his banquets are prepared withdiligence. Eccl. Xxx. 22-27. 

CHAPTER XXI. 

ON READING. 

If the wisdom of nations, which loves to find expression in theproverbs, teaches us that a man may be known by knowing the companythat he frequents; we can say with the same assurance that hischaracter and dispositions may be known from the books which heconstantly reads. Of all friends, the most intimate are the booksthat we constantly read, hence there is nothing more important for ayoung person, as there is nothing that entails such graveconsequences for the moral culture, than the selection of proper andsuitable books. Because it is a noted fact that such readingsexercise the deepest influence over the mind and heart, so much thatall the resources which the ingeniousness of maternal love can employagainst it avail nothing. God's minister in the pulpit of truth hasno weight with those souls fascinated by the deceitful charms of abad book, which addresses itself to their prejudices and passions. The charitable advice of the confessor in the tribunal of penance isfutile against the intoxicating seductions of those romances whoseonly merit consists in flattering the most depraved inclinations ofthe human heart. 

Indeed it is a subject both of surprise and sorrow to see an authorof the most menial abilities lauded to the skies for a book stillmore abject than himself, a book teeming with error and immorality;while, very often, a discourse, a sermon or an instruction, whatevermay be the authority that they receive either from the character ofthe person who pronounces them, or from the gravity of thecircumstances in which he speaks, are heard with indifference. Goodand evil, truth and error, are never so rapidly propagated, never sopowerful in their action, never so certain in their effects as whenthey are communicated to us under the form of a book authorized byfashion or party spirit. Hence there is no greater responsibilitybefore God than that which man assumes when he wields the pen in thename of humanity, whether for noble or selfish ends. 

A book is a teacher whose doctrine is listened to with a willingnessequal to its degree of conformity to the inclinations of our heart. It is a friend that gains our confidence, inasmuch as it flatters ourprejudices and passions, and in which we find a reflection of our ownthoughts, the echo of our most secret sentiments. You would not liketo receive a stranger into your house without his being properlyrecommended, but you will readily receive a book on the strength ofreports that are often deceitful. 

The country is flooded with productions that sap the foundations ofmorality, and which bear that _imprimatur_ given by a poisonedpublic opinion to such authors as pander to its craven spirit. Theworld judges with a depraved indulgence the book in which it findsits maxims approved and sanctioned, portraying the exact seducingpicture of its vanities. The purest souls and, not unfrequently, serious minds are too often imposed upon by those popular prejudices, and, despite their good reason, yield to their influence by readingthe flimsy productions of depraved minds, which, besides all theother injuries they cause, rob them of a most precious time. A bookmust be very bad before the world condemns it, so bad, in fact, thatits own intrinsic filth disgusts the reader and seals its fate. But, there is another kind of literature favorably received by thatportion of mankind called respectable, honest, and sometimes evensevere, and whose authority is capable of making a grave impressionon your mind. 

It is, therefore, very important for you to know not only the signsby which to recognize a bad book, but also whom you should consult asjudges in the matter. There can be no question here of those booksprofessedly immoral, in which vice is eulogized and corrupt maximssustained. Those books are not dangerous for you, because they willnot fall under your hands, and even when they would you could notopen one of them without flinging it away with horror;--in this casethe evil--contains in itself its own remedy. 

But there are books, less dangerous in appearance, in which the mostdelicate situations are represented, clothed in all the charms ofstyle, well calculated, under their moral guise and serious bearing, to captivate the heart and imagination. Indeed to represent in livelycolors the terrible effects of the passions, and the fatalconsequences that a momentary excitement might entail is not of anature to inspire a young lady with horror for vice and love forvirtue. How is it possible that she will guard against the evilinclinations of the heart, when she is conscious of the danger ingiving them free scope, and that a momentary forgetfulness issometimes punished by a life-time of sorrow and bitterness? Such aculpable negligence might be accounted for, if there existed anecessary relation between the will and the imagination, by which thedeterminations of the former are necessarily dependant upon theimpressions of the latter. 

But such is not the case, for the imagination has a sphere of actionvery different from that of the intelligence or the will. It is aninterior mirror which reflects back upon the soul images of thingsbeheld by the senses and conceived by the intelligence, withoutregard to time or place. Positively no, would be the answer of ayoung lady of self-respect, whom we would ask if she would like tosee with her own eyes all that is spoken of in the novel which shereads with so little caution! Your answer would be given in the sameterms, should we ask you if she might read without impunity to virtuethose intrigues, those scenes so engaging to curiosity, and whichincite the reader to follow up the details of ineffectual strugglesagainst passion. Could she, without blushing, listen to thepassionate conversations of those who had lead each other todestruction, after having exhausted all the resources of heart andmind to render vice amiable, even when their fall would seem to beless the effect of a criminal will than the result of a kind offatality? Your answer to all this would be emphatically, no!

But while young ladies will neither listen to nor look at scenes ofthis nature, many, alas! do not scruple to look at them in books, where they are much more dangerous, for being adorned with all thecharms of style, and because the persons represented are made tospeak and act in a much more luring manner than they do in reality. They devour with avidity those dangerous, and sometimes scurrilouspages; but while they chain their attention to the matter they arereading, their imagination gains the ascendancy over all the senses, and under their united action images are formed which leave a lastingimpression on the mind--images of misfortune that has befallenpersons either through their own fault or the fault of others, andwhich, through sympathy, the human heart, whether wrong or right, isalways ready to find a pretext to justify. 

In reading of those misfortunes she may perhaps recognize the handof divine vengeance pursuing the criminal culprit, which is of anature to inspire her with a sentiment of fear that deters from thecommission of crime; but such sentiments have been felt by the heroesof the novel which she has read, and nevertheless they have falleninto the abyss which they so much dreaded, I would almost say whilefleeing from it. But when they take their stand on a declivity sosteep and slippery, nothing short of a miracle can save them. 

Such is precisely the nature of the danger in which the readers ofsuch books place them-selves. In those books human frailty isidolized, deeds committed through it are either necessary orexcusable, the hair-breadth escapes, and often the tragicalconclusion of their story, will often inspire the reader with asalutary terror, it is true; but will that feeling destroy all thosetender sympathizing sentiments that were felt while dreading it? Ofcourse this fear is felt by the will, but the imagination has alreadyfinished its work; it has seen, heard and felt by the senses; it hasdelighted and fascinated the soul by those images whose charms cannotbe destroyed by the unfortunate issue of those struggles in whichfrailty played such an important role. 

The will, distracted by the tumult of external things, and thevariety of, her occupations or pleasures, will soon lose thissentiment of terror on which she seems to count so much, but theimagination will conserve for a long time the impressions and imagesupon which it has feasted, and which will form the constant subjectof her thoughts during the day and of her dreams during the night. 

Hence, the books that are capable of producing such results areevidently bad, and if you wish to preserve intact the innocence ofyour heart you should never take one of them in your hands. If youwish to conceive a deep horror for vice, and guard against the snaresof passion, you will more readily and securely attain your end byreading a few serious books in which truth is presented in its ownsimplicity without artifice. Books in which the author, realizing theimportance of his mission, directly addresses the mind without tryingto captivate the heart and imagination, or to render vice amiablefirst in order to inspire you with horror for it afterwards. If youwish to be true to yourself; if by your readings your object is tocultivate a love for virtue and horror for evil, novels are not thebooks that you will have recourse to. 

Hence, to draw a practical conclusion from our considerations onthis subject, you may safely say that a book is, if not bad, at leastdangerous when its tendencies are to render interesting, andagreeable such deeds or language as you would neither look at norlisten to. This should be the first rule by which to judge of themoral worth of the books you wish to read. 

CHAPTER XXII. 

SAME SUBJECT CONTINUED. 

To the rule given in the foregoing chapter may be added another ofequal importance in the selection of suitable books to read. Generally speaking, all books that draw too much on the imaginationmay be considered as dangerous. You are well aware, and it has beenfrequently said, in the course of this little book, that theimagination is precious and useful when regulated with discretion, and directed with prudence; but the moment that it is allowed toassume a preponderance which does not belong to it, it becomesnoxious to our spiritual and temporal welfare. Moreover, it is unitedto the senses by the most intimate ties, through which it receivesimpressions and images that keep it in constant activity; we shouldconstantly labor to check, rather than to encourage its development;while we should spare neither pains nor diligence to develop theintelligence which, when left in ignorance of truths that couldenlighten and elevate it, becomes the victim of cruel doubt, idleness, effeminacy and pleasure. 

There are books said to be useless, and consequently harmless, butthe conclusion, without being false, is not just; for we have just asmuch reason to believe they are dangerous as to admit the contrary. Now, if a book is indeed useless you cannot bear to read it, andsince you do read it, it must certainly contain something interestingwhich renders it agreeable to you; it pleases some faculty of yoursoul, some habitual thought of your mind, some predominatingdisposition of your heart. 

That a book may be read without profit is quite true. But that thesame book can be read without danger of sustaining some loss isevidently false, unless that it be maintained that we are justifiedin having no proposed end for our actions; or that we may act solelyfor pastime which is diametrically opposed to the end for which wewere created: Our time is too precious to be used indifferently. Again if there is in life anything that may be read or omittedwithout losing some advantage, or committing some evil, it iscertainly not a book, for it always contains either some facts orsome pictures, or some maxims capable of making an impression on yourmind and heart. 

The intelligence is formed and developed by means of language, andlanguage, considered from this point of view, furnishes us with noidle words. Hence a useless book is, in the true acceptation of theterm, a book that amuses the imagination and the heart. Now, whateverthe soul receives through these channels must be of some importancefor good or evil. Hence we are not justified, on the plea ofindifference to accept any book that falls under our hands withoutbeing thoroughly examined and competently recommended. 

Here, of course, a new difficulty occurs: at your age, and with yourexperience, you are unable to judge what books you should read; youare therefore obliged to follow the advice of others in the matter, but not the advice of all indiscriminately, as all are not competentto direct you in a matter of such grave importance. Popularity willgive a wide circulation to a book bat can by no means recommend it;hence public opinion is not a rule that will guarantee you againstdeception. 

Those in whom you place entire confidence to choose a book for youshould themselves be recommended by their sincere and generous piety, the dignity of their life, the solidity of their judgment, strengthened by an extensive knowledge of men and things. Above allthings be on your guard against the books recommended by worldlywomen, lovers of pleasure and parties; those whose light andfrivolous minds sicken at serious thoughts, who are on their guardlest they may do too much for God, and who vainly endeavor toreconcile, in a monstrous union, the maxims of the world with thoseof the Gospel, the seductions of pleasure with the austerities ofvirtue, desiring to serve God and mammon. 

If, by some negligence, or even in good faith; you open one of thosebooks against which you have been warned, shut it the moment you feelyour imagination excited by the images it offers, or when youperceive that the mind's curiosity becomes aroused to its agreeablenarration of incidents, for it is almost always an unfavorable signof a book that produces those and similar effects. Such is not themanner in which truth and virtue affect us. Their action is milderand calmer, and has the heart and will, rather than the imaginationfor its object. Hence, be on your guard, lest by some indiscretionyou allow a poison to enter your soul, which is never more dangerousthan when it seems least to be feared. 

Finally, to resume in a few words, all that we have considered onthe subject: If you would place the moral merit of a book beyondquestion, ask yourself if you would like to have its author for yourspiritual director; do not think that this precaution is exaggeratedor uncalled for; for between the author of a book and the readerthere are relations established so intimate that they beget a kind ofintellectual paternity, which produces deeper and more durableeffects than you may be aware of. 

To express the influence that our actions exercise over our life andover our fate, man is said to be the son of his works. For similarreason, it may be said of him, but more especially of woman, that heis the son of his readings, for reading forms such an importantfactor in the formation of the heart and mind that it often modifiesour whole being. Besides, if you wish to profit by your reading, readonly a few books, but read them well, with close attention, reflecting long and often on what you have read, identifying yourvery thoughts and sentiments with the subject matter of their pages. But let all this have its practical utility, let all those advantagesfind a living expression in your language, in your actions, and inyour whole life. 

END.