Serious Hours of a Young Lady, Charles Sainte-Foi [thriller novels to read TXT] 📗

The first condition required to avoid a danger is to know it, for the ignorance that conceals from us the snares which we should avoid is - after the evil inclination that leads us into them - man's greatest misfortune, and the most disastrous of the effects of original sin.

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

If the world, spite of that inordinate desire for reform and innovation which consumes it, has not yet seriously endeavored to withdraw woman from the circle to which Providence would have her devote the activity of her mind and life; if it has consented till now to have her shun the theatre and the whirlpool of political commotions, it will be extremely difficult for her to escape its counter-shock, and preserve her self-composure and serenity of soul in the midst of those turbulent events which absorb her husband's life, that of her children, of her father and brothers. If it was easy for her to preserve her heart at a tender age from the seductions of the world and the dangerous snares of vanity or pleasure, through the sweet influence of those more modest, and at the same time more rigid customs which identified her thoughts and affections with the family circle; such is not the case at present, for an unfortunate necessity, invested with the vain title of propriety, compels her to seek in a more fashionable, a more numerous, and consequently an unsuitable society, distractions or pastimes for which she is not made, and which recreate neither body, nor mind, nor heart.

The feverish agitation and insatiable thirst for enjoyment which seem to prevail among all ages and classes of the present day is enigmatical. Life now-a-days must be passed in a state of constant excitement. The peaceful calm productive of a modest and pure life appear to the imagination like a monotonous and disdainful sleep. The young girl herself has scarcely left the paternal home in which she passed her youthful days when she dreams of the pleasing emotions and incomparable joys promised her by a flashy and fashionable life. The examples which come under her notice wherever she goes or wherever she turns her eyes, - the language which she hears, and the very air which she breathes, - all give her, as it were, a foretaste of the false pleasures which now fascinate her imagination.

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

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

For you, perhaps, like many others, life will be a desert which you must traverse almost alone, without meeting a single soul to reach you a helping hand in your necessities and trials. Being about to set out on this pilgrimage of life, which will perhaps be long, fatiguing and 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, you will at least have the merit of having been wise in your conduct, for not less moral strength is required to bear the happiness of prosperity than the misfortune of adversity. Happiness here below is something so extremely perilous to man's eternal welfare that few can taste it without injury to their souls. Hence, in order to guard against its fatal influence, not less preparation, nor less time, nor less efforts, are required than to suffer the privations imposed by adversity, for experience proves that the former is more destructive than 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, and fanciful hopes. Youth is like a fairy whose magical wand evokes the most graceful images and the most alluring phantoms. This ignorance of the doleful realities concealed in the future is a gift of divine goodness which, in order that life might not be too bitter, casts a beneficent veil over the sorrows that await us; God screens the future from us to let us enjoy the present. Far be it from me to remove this veil which renders you such kind service. But, apart from this screen which the good God has placed between you and the miseries of this life, there is another of a darker and heavier shade, fabricated by the imagination, and which it draws with a perfidious complacency over the object which it behooves us the most to know and avoid - a seductive and deceitful veil which, while presenting things to us in a false light, exposes us to most deplorable illusions and inevitable dangers.

God permits that we should ignore many things, but He does not wish that we should be deceived in anything. He is truth itself; error can never claim His acquiescence.

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

While the soil of your heart is yet untilled and moist, and while your hands are yet filled with those heavenly seeds which God has given you in abundance, I desire that you may sow them in the light and strength of divine grace, to develop in them the heavenly germs which they contain, that you may be enabled to reap at a later time an abundant harvest of virtues, holy joy and merit before God and men. I desire that you may learn to turn to good account all the natural resources that you possess, and acquire that knowledge of yourself which enlightens the mind without troubling the heart; I do not wish to discourage nor flatter you, I only wish to instruct and fortify you.

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

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

If you had a long sojourn to make in a place close by, would it be reasonable on your part to pay less attention to the place of your destination than to the few fleeting moments it would require to go thither. Youth is not a stopping-place, it is a passage, a time of preparation; it is to the whole life what the florid period is to the gardener, or seed-time to the farmer.

Oh! if you did but fully comprehend the value of each hour during this most important period of life, the value of each thought of your mind, of each sentiment of your heart, with what extreme care you would watch over all the movements of your soul, nay, even the external movements of your body.

That fugitive thought which enters your mind, fanned by curiosity's wing, may seem quite trivial; to dwell on and delight in it may be to you something indifferent. That sentiment which, scarcely formed, commences to germinate in your heart, and to produce therein emotions so imperceptible that you are but imperfectly conscious of its presence, seems insignificant at first sight; that unguarded glance seemed to you a matter of no import, and which, at an earlier or later period of your life, would have but little consequence. At an earlier age the impression, it is true, would be lively but inconsistent, and the levity of childhood would soon have replaced it by another; later it would be found so superficial and trivial that it would be soon forgotten among the multiplicity of thoughts which absorb the mind at the age of maturity; but, during the youthful years, everything that comes under the notice of the senses sinks deeply into the soul, penetrating its very substance, the faculties still retain all the vivacity of youth, while already they participate in that firmness which is characteristic of the age of maturity.

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

If, as yet, you are ignorant of all the evil of which an imprudent glance may be productive, recall to mind the example furnished us by the Sacred Scriptures in the person of David, who, for his imprudent glance at the wife of Urias, committed two crimes, the names of which you should ignore, and suffered a life of sorrow,