Serious Hours of a Young Lady | Page 3

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