Serious Hours of a Young Lady
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Charles Sainte Foi >> Serious Hours of a Young Lady
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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 author
of the "_Serious Hours of a Young Lady_" has very appropriately
made this truth the basis of his book, since the object that he had
in view in writing it was to point out the important role that woman
plays in society, and to give the young girl such instructions as
will enable her, in due time, to discharge, in a worthy manner, the
duties of her calling. In doing this he has given evidence of very
elevated views and of a profound knowledge of the human heart. The
book is a tissue of practical counsels, couched in the clearest and
most delicate terms.
Hence, judging from its intrinsic worth, and the universal welcome
with which it has been hailed in the original, we feel that it is no
exaggeration to assert that it has rendered and will still render
inestimable good to society.
After having lucidly exposed the importance of woman's mission in
this world, and pointed out the evils that prevent its realization,
the author ingeniously brings before the mind's eye the different
phases of her life, the varied process of development that she
undergoes in all her faculties, the dangerous influences to which she
is constantly exposed, the means that should be employed to ensure
her protection.
We behold her on the threshold of childhood a tiny, timid and
retiring creature, naturally disposed to attach her affections to all
that is pure and elevated, to everything that conduces to the
practice of virtue and the love of God. While yet a child she is the
little confidante and angel of consolation of her brothers and
sisters in their pains and difficulties. At a more advanced age we
see her consoling her aged parents in their sorrows and afflictions;
and when she merges into womanhood she becomes either the spouse of
Jesus Christ or of man, only to continue the same work of beneficence
in some charitable asylum, or in the midst of domestic cares. But ere
she attains this last stage of life how numerous and great are the
difficulties that she must encounter, the dangers to which she will
be exposed, and the snares to entrap her!
Hence, to ensure her safety and prepare her to act the important
role that she holds in society, her education must be the work of
piety, modesty and retirement. All that interferes with their action
in her soul must be peremptorily removed. Worldly pleasures with
their numerous cortège should never have access to the sanctuary of
her heart, for their poisoned influence blasts the fairest flower in
her crown of simplicity.
But, alas! we confess, with deep regret, that there are many
thoughtless tutors who seemingly ignore the grave responsibility of
their charge, and unwarrantably parade the little one before the
world's gaze, which creates in the heart evil impressions, frivolous
tastes and inordinate desires. And, even when they would all prove
faithful to their trust, it is a noted fact that society, friends and
companions wield a powerful influence over the mind and heart of a
young girl, which, when allowed to continue, most invariably proves
pernicious to her spiritual and temporal welfare.
Hence, she stands in need of a true friend, a faithful adviser, on
whom she can depend for safe instruction, and to whom she can have
recourse as often as need be. The "_Serious Hours_" is unquestionably
all this; it speaks openly, firmly, but mildly. It inspires the
young girl with that genuine, lofty esteem that she should have
for herself and for the dignity of her sex. It clearly defines her
line of conduct in all the most critical incidents and circumstances
of life, so that she cannot be deceived unless that she wilfully
shuts her eyes to the light of truth. It is all that the author
proposed to make it, a first class book of instruction for young
ladies, showing a careful study of all their wants and a happy
choice of the remedies to meet them. And, believing that such a
valuable book ought to be made accessible to all nations, we have
ventured to present it to the public in an English dress. How far we
have succeeded in rendering both its form and spirit we leave the
public to decide. And, while we are fully aware that, in transferring
the genius of one language to another, some of the original delicate
shades of beauty must be inevitably sacrificed--the present
translation not excepted--still we are happy to say that the work was
one of love and deep interest to us, on account of its importance and
good to society.
TRANSLATOR.
CONTENTS:
Translator's Preface
CHAPTER I.--Importance of the Time of Youth; Difficulties and
Dangers that Women Meet With in Life, and the Necessity of Providing
for Them
CHAPTER II.--Illusions of Youth; Value of Time at this Period of Life
CHAPTER III.--The Heart of Woman; the Necessity of Regulating it
During 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 WOMEN
MEET WITH IN LIFE, AND THE NECESSITY OF PROVIDING FOR THEM.
The most important period of life is that in which we are the better
able, in making good use of the present, to repair the past and
prepare for the future; that period holds the intermediate place
between the age of infancy and the age of maturity, embracing the
advantages of both, presenting at the same time the flowers of the
one with the fruits of the other. In order to prepare for the future
we need a certain assistance from the past, for this preparation
demands a certain maturity of judgment and a force of will that
experience alone can give.
The child, devoid as it is of personal experience, can, by turning
that of others to good account, make up for the deficiencies of its
youth, and prepare for the future without having to learn in the
severe school of self-experience. But, through an unfortunate
occurrence of circumstances, and very often without any fault of
theirs, the greater part of children attain the age of manhood and
womanhood without having reaped the precious advantages offered them
by the first stage of life, when the soul is most susceptible of
receiving the impress of grace and virtue. A vitiated or inadequate
primitive education, bad example, pernicious instruction? perchance,
or at least personal levity of character, combined with that of
childhood, deprive this age of many advantages, and call for a total
reparation of the past, at a period of life that should be the living
figure of hope.
Happy, indeed, are those who have only the levity and negligences of
childhood to repair, and who have never felt the crushing weight of a
humiliating and grievous fault! Alas! that purity, that innocence so
common formerly among children, is every day disappearing from their
midst, many among them have become the victims of sin ere the
passions of the heart manifested their presence; and their hearts
have quivered from the sting of remorse ere they felt the perfidious
lurings of pleasure. Many have received from sin that doleful
experience, that premature craftiness, which, far from enlightening
the mind, obscures and blinds it,--which, far from fortifying the
will, enfeebles and enervates it.
Such is the light by which we can truly see the importance that
should be attached to the time of youth. At this period of life sin
has not yet taken deep root in the heart,--it has not at least
assumed the frightful magnitude of one of those inveterate habits,
justly called habits of second nature, which invade and pollute the
sacred sanctuary of both body and soul, forming in the earliest
instincts, inclinations and desires so violent, so obstinate, that
superhuman efforts with a life-long struggle are the consequences
entailed upon the unfortunate victims, who desire to hold them in
subjection.
However, it is invariably true that, if the passions peculiar to
youth virulently assail virtue and expose the heart to the seductions
of pleasure, they also give a great facility of doing good, by
inflaming youthful zeal which age never fails to cool. The ardor
aroused by them for the commission of evil can be easily employed for
the practice of virtue; they are young and fiery steeds which God has
placed at your disposal, ready to obey your orders. Attach them to
the chariot of your will, they will not fail to draw you in the
direction that you may open to their impetuosity. It matters not to
them whether they run upon the way of vice or virtue,--all that they
require is to go, to run and not to be constrained to inaction, which
kills them. They must be managed by a resolute will which holds the
reins with a firm grip, and by a calm intelligence, skilled to direct
them.
Trees, while young, can be easily plied into any direction that man
may wish to give them. The same may be said of hearts in which the
frost of age has not cooled the ardor and impetuosity of desire.
Their energy and vivacity, whether for good or evil, never forsake
them. They are like those spirited racers which are no sooner down
than up again, for, swift as a flash, they will turn you to God by
repentance and love, the moment you have the misfortune of losing Him
by sin. Be then full of confidence and hope, young soul, to whom God
has opened with a liberal hand the spring-time of life; be grateful
to Him for so signal a favor, and, like a wise economist, profit by
the resources that He places at your disposal. But, should the past
recall some doleful memories, be not dismayed; be hopeful and, re-
animating your courage, prepare for the future by sowing at present
the germs of those beautiful virtues which grace irrigates, and whose
fruits will rejoice your old age and atone for the sterility of your
earlier years.
Your future happiness is insured if you fully comprehend the
importance of the epoch which you now begin, and the greatness of its
results for the rest of your life. Let past delinquencies become an
incentive, stimulating your will to energetic action. Let the need of
repairing the past, and the importance of preparing for the future
inspire you with generous resolutions and an ardent desire of
acquiring all the virtues necessary to a person of your sex and
position, in order that you may discharge in a worthy manner all the
duties which may be required of you. Regard the future with a calm
and firm eye, without exaggerating the difficulties, but also without
dissembling the dangers. 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, repentance,
bitterness and anguish: a life which even yet serves to express the
sorrow and repentance of imprudent souls who have yielded to the
allurements of the senses. And, nevertheless, David had attained the
age of discretion when the mind is firm and the will is strong; David
was the cherished one of God; he was just and virtuous, one on whom
God had special designs of mercy. What a terrible example! What a
severe, but at the same time instructive, lesson!
Young Christian soul, may it never be your sad experience to learn
the effect of an imprudent glance which would exact from you the
bitter wages of countless tears and regrets. Is there anything in the
material world so beautiful, so beneficent as the light and heat that
we receive from the sun; is there among material things a livelier
image of the goodness of God towards us? And, nevertheless, let the
sun shine upon the young and tender flower or vine immediately after
a shower of rain, and it will cause them to droop and wither. The
reason is quite obvious, for at no time is a being so frail and
delicate as at the moment of its formation. There is a critical
period for all beings, during which the greatest possible care is
necessary. In this relation, what is said of the body may be said of
the soul; character is formed and developed according to the same
laws which regulate the development of the physical constitution.
Are you not aware of the extraordinary care that must be taken of
those organs that are the chief motors of the body, while they are
under process of development? Are you not aware that the fresh air
which you inhale and which purifies and invigorates the blood
contains for you the germ of death, which justifies in your good
parents the anxious care they take of your health, but which you
perhaps regard as entirely unnecessary?
Now, what the lungs are to the human body, that the heart is to the
soul. It is by the heart that we breathe the spiritual and divine
atmosphere that sustains our moral life. This atmosphere is composed
of three elements,--truth, goodness and beauty, which envelop and
penetrate the soul's substance; as it is the respiratory organ of the
mind it follows that for the heart, as well as for the lungs, there
is an epoch of development which is dangerous, and which,
consequently, demands the greatest possible care; it is the epoch of
your age at present. An emotion too vivid, an indiscreet thought, an
imprudent glance, is quite sufficient to imperil the interesting and
delicate process by which your moral constitution is formed, to
accelerate the development of the heart, and thus give to this most
important organ a pernicious precocity or a false direction.
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