THE HOME

GREAT ADVENTURERS

CHARLES PEGUY called fathers of families, "these great

adventurers of the modern world."

How correct he was! What courage is needed to step out before life,

with a companion on one's arm, aspiring to have children and

hoping that Mother Earth will be able to support and nourish their

own little world!

Certainly the joy that attends the birth of a babe is sweet. Here is

how a father describes it:

When one sees a little one so weak yet so well formed one loves

the Creator still more and how much more one thanks Him for

giving us life! What a beautiful mystery maternity is! To see a

young mother feeding her babe suffices to incite one to adore God.

There is nothing more touching than to see this dear little treasure

resting in the arms of its mother. It was baptized on March 28.

What a majestic ceremony it was and how proud one feels to be

able to say his son is a Christian!

But what anguish is suffered if the children are sick; if the

mother's strength fails beneath her work. How anxious one grows

when the little ones cough and gasp for breath. And even if all

goes well as far as health is concerned, there is no end to buying

clothes, having shoes resoled, and providing food for the ever

hungry mouths.

When the children grow up, one must be concerned about their

education. One must start thinking about high school and college

for the boys and the girls. Which school is best? Which teachers

are best qualified? Will they take the same interest in our children

that we the parents do? Will they give them what they really need

to face life? . . .

Then come the sudden worries--auto accidents, accidents in

sports, war in which the worst bodily dangers threaten!

But worse still and more serious by far are the soul dangers--the

boy who keeps bad hours, who has an evil tongue and a shifty

glance, who evades questions and begins to lie.

Yes, indeed, what magnificent and courageous adventurers are

fathers of families!

A reporter recounted the enthusiastic acclaim the people of Paris

gave the intrepid sailor Alain Gerbault who had succeeded in

sailing around the world in a very frail skiff.

"For my part," said the reporter, "I gave to Alain Gerbault the

recognition that was his due."

But in the crowd that had gathered about the famous sailor, the

newspaper man found himself next to a family of rather humble

means to judge by their appearance, although they did not lack

dignity. There were five children with the father and mother, all

modestly and neatly dressed. The father was explaining to his

sons, "Oh, what an admirable type is this Gerbault! What a hero!"

"I shared that idea," commented the reporter, "but I thought that

father was also a hero to pilot a skiff loaded down with children on

the parisian ocean as he was doing . . . . I even wondered if it were

not more admirable than to guide a boat on the high sea with only

oneself to think of."

THE PSALM OF YOUNG MOTHERS

A YOUNG mother--very true to her role of mother and at the same

time very artistic--got the idea of comparing her role with that of

cloistered sisters. Between her washing, her cooking and the care

of her youngest, she managed to compose "The Psalm of Young

Mothers" which appeared in the 8 November issue of "Marriage

Chretien." It is full of love, full of spontaneity. Every young mother

will recognize herself in these passages we are quoting:

"O my God

Like our sisters in the cloister

We have left all for you;

We have not imprisoned the youth of our faces in a guimpe

and under a veil,

And though we have cut our hair, it is not in any spirit of

penance....

Deign nevertheless, O Lord, to cast a look of complaisance

On the humble little sacrifices

Which we offer You all day long,

Since the day our groaning flesh gave life to all these little

Christians

We are rearing for You.

Our liberty, O God, is in the hands of these little tyrants

who claim it every minute.

The house has become our cloister,

Our life has its unchanging Rule,

And each day its Office, always the same;

The Hours for dressing and for walks,

The Hours for feeding and for school,

We are bound by the thousand little demands of life.

Detached by necessity every moment from our own will,

We live in obedience.

Even our nights do not belong to us;

We too have our nocturnal Office,

When we must rise quickly for a sick child,

Or when between midnight and two o'clock,

When we are in the full sleep we need so badly

A little untimely chanter

Begins to sing his Matins.

We practically live retired from the world:

There is so much to be done in the house.

There is no possibility of going out anyway without a

faithful sitter for the little ones.

We measure out the time for visits parsimoniously.

We have no sisters to relieve us on another shift.

And when the calls for service reach high pitch for us

We have to sweep, to wash the dishes, scrape the carrots

for the stew, prepare a smooth puree for baby and keep

on going without stopping

From the children's room to the kitchen and to and fro.

We do big washings we rub and we rinse

Aprons and shirts, underclothes and socks

And all the baby's special things.

In this life of sacrifice, come to our help, O Jesus!

UP TO DATE

ONE of our modern novels gives us the following situation: Gina

Valette is a woman who is "up to date" in the unpleasant sense of

the term. Very rich and provided with a husband who thoroughly

spoils her, she has dogs, cats, a parrot, and a monkey, but no

children. Her brilliant existence palls on her. Among her friends

are mothers with children who courageously use their modest

resources to advantage and rear quite a family. Often when an

epidemic breaks out among the children of a family, a friend of

the family will take two or three of the others for the time.

To cure Gina of her depressed spirits, her friend Jamine persuades

her to take young Gilles Perdrinix whose five brothers and sisters

have the chickenpox. Gina is bewildered; she knows perfectly how

to care for a monkey but she finds herself embarrassed before this

little Perdrinix boy who judged her severely from the height of his

four years.

"How ignorant she is! How much is lacking in her training!" Little

Gilles sighed to think of it. "She knows how to smoke," he said to

himself sadly, "but she can't give me a lift to button my shirt." He

did not complain nor did he reproach her; but on seeing her so

clumsy, he thought she had much to learn to become a woman like

other women.

Happily there are other kinds.

A mother of a family and a brilliant author wrote in the preface of

a volume on "The Mother" which she was requested to write by the

editor of a series entitled "The Up to Date Woman," "How shall I

ever write this little book? There are no up-to-date mothers. There

are only Mammas."

And with charming dash coupled with irresistible conviction she

gave young wives this advice:

"Little Lady, you are embarking upon married life on the arm of a

husband who is all taken up with you, who probably wants nothing

more than to believe in you, to follow you and to approve of

everything that touches the essence of your being. Do not listen to

those frustrated women or those soured unmarried girls, or those

Jezebels who have nothing of the matron about them but their age

and have no real experience; do not let them draw you out of the

right way. Be convinced, that the joy which babies bring is

inexpressible and makes up for all the torment and fatigue of

bearing them. Be certain that the sight of that plump, smooth little

body; of those dimpled hands and feet, both like pink silk yet

provided with sharp nails; of that darling little mouth with its

toothless smile, so simple and so trustful that the bright look, so

marvelously pure, the soft cheeks, the silky hair, the utter quiet

abandonment of this little being who issued forth from us floods

our soul with an intense and intimate ecstasy such as I have never

known before.

If only the up-to-date woman would be a mother for the future.

After the dark hours of the war, new life must be born.

There will be lives only if there are mothers, mothers who respond

to their essential and divine vocation.

Even if there were not this motive of special need, eternal reasons

still have force--the law of fecundity and the law of chastity:

Although it is permissible for married persons to abstain from the

conjugal act or to perform it only when there is the least

possibility of conception provided their reasons are not selfish; if

they do perform the marital act they may do nothing to prevent

the generation of a life which is in the plan of God. That is clear.

Give me, O my God, the grace through respect for You and for Your

work, always to have a devotion to and a respect for life; grant that

I may never sully my own existence by any criminal attempt upon

new life. Grant me also the grace to be in Your Hands a not too

unworthy instrument of Your creative power. Let me be "up-to-

date" whenever it is a question of enrolling a new name in the Book

of Life.

PATERNAL SOLICITUDE

IN ORDER to fulfill his task conscientiously, a father needs

singular qualities.

First among these qualities is an unfailing courage. In homes

where life is easy--and in what family today is life easy--he can

rest on the fortune amassed by his ancestors. But that melts so

soon. In homes where the family lives truly on the daily bread,

how much he must exert himself to earn that bread for the day.

There's more than one meal that has to be provided for a single

day. And the clothing? And the shoes? And the bills--from the

doctor, the pharmacist, the grocer? Days follow upon each other,

weeks overlap and months roll by; the home is augmented by one

more. How shall he cope with this world of his?

With courage, the father needs a quiet confidence in God. Surely, if

they understand their duty well, true fathers know how to space

births somewhat without failing in the least against the laws of

marriage; and this for some requires heroic courage. But even then

when one does not tempt Divine Providence but lives in a prudent

and continent moderation, it is still necessary in order to keep

above the surface of life to cast anchor in the deep and wait for

the desired help from God--imperturbably serene through it all.

And who will measure the untiring patience that he will need to

bear those almost necessary difficulties of character in a most

loving and attentive wife; to endure the crying and weeping of the

babies at night; to bear with the noisy games of the growing

children when he wants to work in quiet; to try to make the income

at least balance expenses; to build up a declining business; to find

new openings for his products; to develop a better and wider

clientele. Patience alone will see him through!

How he will need authority with the children to reinforce the

mother's control who, either because she is too busy or too easy

going, lets them take advantage of her now and then!

He will not have this authority without insight which will help him

distinguish the pre-dominant character traits of each child and

determine the best means to provide for the training of all so that

their virtues are developed and their faults are checked; to read

their souls, their inmost thoughts, the progress of their dreams for

the future . . .

All in all, what skill, what firmness, what adaptability, what

sanctity he will need! And here is just a poor father consecrated

such by circumstances and who, just a young fellow himself, has

never weighed his future responsibilities--or not very seriously

weighed them!

Oh, how deeply I feel, Holy Virgin Mary, that you must help me.

Our Lady of great courage, give me strength! Virgin most patient,

give me patience! Seat of Wisdom, give me insight into characters!

Mother and Queen of Jesus, give me a gentle, but firm authority!

Holy Mary, give me holiness more than all else! I have not attained

the degree God wants of me for my mission in life; I am well aware

of that. Draw me, O Immaculate Virgin, draw me to the heights;

you are so near to God; you dwell in the radiance of His light and

His omnipotence; lead me on, higher!

THE FAMILY

THE family, a workshop of life for earth, a workshop for eternity!

1. A Workshop of Life: What power to have control over the creation

of life! God, who could have created human beings all by Himself

wished to give His creatures the gift of a power which belonged

only to Him. Consequently, souls will not come into the light

unless parents consent to it. They will not create souls, to be sure,

but by generating bodies they furnish God the means of increasing

the number of souls.

Have I meditated often enough upon this magnificent power which

has been conferred on me? A power which I share equally with her

who is the companion of my existence? Have I meditated on the

glory of fatherhood? The glory of motherhood? Have I considered

what a grave sin it is to place the act which generates life and then

to prevent through perverted will the coming of life to a potential

human being? Or to snuff out the life which is developing in the

womb of the mother?

The author of the novel "Jeanne," though not a Christian, clearly

pleads the cause of Christian morals in the play he produced from

his novel. The following scene gives in brief the theme of the

whole play:

MADELEINE--Jeanne is always present. . . Do you know the dream I

often have? I see a little hand which is trying to open a door. We

are very comfortable you and I and we both push against the door

with all our strength so that Jeanne cannot come in to take away a

little of our ease, our luxury, our warmth . . . Then the little hand

falls down and we begin to count gold pieces so as not to hear

anything . . . A little whimper. . .

ANDRE--That's a nightmare! ...

MADELEINE--For you yes. Remorse is a policeman. . .

ANDRE--Don't you love me anymore, Madeleine?

MADELEINE--Since we were accomplices. . .I loved you to folly, but

this love was snatched away with my child. When I came back from

that abortionist, you noticed no change in my attitude. But Andre it

was another woman you clasped in your arms . . . a sort of dead . . .

ANDRE--Then, always, forever, that will be between us?

MADELEINE--Not between us, with us!

Have I ever thought of the tragic intimate dramas that conjugal

cheating gives rise to in the lives of parents? Have I thought of the

harm done to society in times of peace? To the country I love,

weakening its defenses, threatening its safety in times of war? To

the Church who would have had some saints among those children

who were denied birth, in any case, some priests and religious . . .

Have I thought of all that?

2. A Workshop for Eternity: The family not only contributes an

increase to earthly existence but it also increases more divine life

on earth, and that in two ways--from the moment of its

establishment and later: The day the man and woman receive the

sacrament of Matrimony, they produce, if we may so dare to speak,

more divine life; each of the two become richer in the life of the

Trinity within themselves; the Eternal is intermingled to a greater

degree in the existence of both. Then come the children. Each will

possess within itself the germ of eternity, something of the life

which will never end. Death will come to end life here below, but

this life is destined to bloom again: "I believe in the resurrection of

the body and life everlasting" we recite in the Creed.

To be sure, the children have free will, they can fail to attain their

destiny. The devil and evil concupiscence must always be

conquered. But if their origin is Christian, if the parents have done

all they possibly could to do their duty and rear their offspring as

they ought, it would be failing in Hope to think of the family's

being eternally cut off from some of its members.

I shall pray fervently that we may all be reunited in heaven, that

we eternally sing the Sanctus as a chorus with not one of us

missing.

HEREDITY

THE profession of fatherhood and motherhood has its

responsibilities even before the birth of the children. Someone has

said, "Every man is an heir; every man is an ancestor." Just as we

receive through our ancestral line many of our traits, so too we

found a line of descendants, and we transmit to those descendants

something of what we are ourselves.

If we were free to transmit only the good, how truly it would be

worth transmitting! But it does not work that way. It is impossible

to foresee what part of us will pass on to our successors. Whoever

performs the work of imparting life runs the risk of imparting to

the one born of him some of his worst with the best. Wherever

there is propagation by generation the mystery of heredity has its

place, a frightening place. It is not in vain that God gives this

warning in the twentieth Book of Exodus: "I am the Lord thy God,

mighty, jealous, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children

unto the third and fourth generations of them that hate Me; And

showing mercy unto thousands to them that love Me and keep my

Commandments." There is a similar idea expressed in the

prophecy of Ezechiel.

A certain father took part as a young man in a sinful escapade. He

corrupted his blood; a germ entered into him. Should he be

astonished then that at the moment in which he transmits life, that

very life will be contaminated? He took precautions; he was cured.

That is possible. It is not always certain. There are often

unpleasant surprises. Even when the malady does not recur in the

first generation, it is possible that it may reappear in the second or

third or even later.

It is the same in the case of lesser evils which nevertheless leave

their corrupting effects--habits of laziness, intemperance in the

use of liquor, a wasting of one's forces. It all tells.

The mother also formerly lived too fast. Her life was characterized

by an excessive effort to follow the capricious changes in styles,

too intense a participation in strenuous sports, an abuse of strong

liquors or over-indulgence in smoking, too much loss of sleep

because of empty and sophisticated night-life or hours of reading

thrillers or indiscriminate running to movies. Here she is now

leaning over her baby's cradle. The little thing is weak and puny

looking as if it were trouble just to breathe. The doctor is called.

There are certainly many reasons for sicknesses and weakness in

babies other than the imprudences of the mother and father. But is

it not true that in many cases if the doctor were sincere he would

have to say: "Madam, there are maladies here which wisdom could

prevent but which science cannot circumvent." To have healthy

and vigorous children, parents must deserve it.

But far be from us any unjust generalizations! It often happens

that in the most deserving families where parents have always

done their duty, God may send weak and sickly children either for

the sanctification of the parents or for reasons known to Himself

alone.

But it still remains true that in many a household an unbelievable

thoughtlessness serves as the prelude for so serious an act as the

procreative act. How many fathers and mothers ought to meditate

on the words spoken by Our Lord with a different implication to

the women of Jerusalem as He trudged along to Calvary, "Weep

over Yourselves and your children."

What a tragic mystery is human heredity! Physical impurities, and

in part, tendencies which foster moral weaknesses can be

transmitted to one's descendants. Some children will issue forth

victorious over terrible struggles only painfully because there is

weighing upon them the crushing weight of faults or frightful

frivolities to which others before them have consented!

PARENTAL RESPONSIBILITY

IT IS worth considering more than once the responsibility that can

rest with the parents when some children do not achieve their full

possibility or even turn out badly.

Let us of course give due blame to the evil concupiscence which

can provoke a painful transformation in children even when the

parents have done everything possible.

It remains true just the same that in a good number of cases, the

father and the mother or one or the other must plead guilty.

A boy is sent to college. He gets along fine until the sophomore

year. From then on he bungles everything, abandons right

conduct, falls in with dangerous companions, carries on high to

such an extent that he has to be expelled. And when a professor

expresses astonishment, the dean will give this explanation: "It's

his background; unfavorable heredity; his brothers were just the

same. The mother is a saint, but the father is one of those

unfortunate individuals who is ruled by his senses; he has caused

much suffering to his wife. It is just the traces of the father

showing up in the children."

The explanation can be taken for what it is worth. The law of

heredity is not a mathematical law. There is no doubt, however,

that it is operative, more operative than one thinks.

When heredity is not to blame, it can often be a matter of bad

training. How good parents are, how very good, too good, too weak!

It is their own formation which is faulty; it should be done over.

A mother brought her young son to the doctor for an examination.

The doctor prescribed a remedy. "The medicine was not pleasant

to take but it was very potent," he said. Well and good; they had

the prescription filled.

Some time later they returned to the doctor.

--"Well, now, how's our patient?"

--"Not any better, doctor."

--"How's that? Didn't the medicine take effect?"

--"No, doctor, it was too hard to take; he wouldn't touch it!"

How much botch-work of that kind goes on! Parents satisfy the

child's every whim. They recoil before the first tears, before the

mere signs of an outburst, before less than that--a frown, a pout, or

a dejected look. They are lost!

Reversing the scriptural phrase, "Cain, where is thy brother Abel?"

an author speaking of social problems, which can well be

duplicated in the family and in education asked, "Abel, what have

you done with Cain?" In other words: "You good people, are you not

responsible through your faults or your incapacities that some

good individuals have become bad?"

I have charge of a soul; I may have a plural charge--several souls.

What has been my conduct until now? Do I not have to reproach

myself with many faults or at least many weaknesses? And I am

surprised at the results obtained! Are they not the logical outcome

of my bungling?

Let me examine myself; consider the whole problem seriously; if it

is necessary, let me reform.

The Family Spirit

BEFORE the war, family spirit was on the decline and on the verge

of being lost. There were exterior and interior reasons.

Exterior reasons: Means of travel had become easier and

encouraged people to go out as much as possible. At times, the

whole household would take the train or auto for an excursion but

more often than not one or other member of the family would go

off for himself with the car.

Young girls began to leave home more than formerly for purposes

of study, Red Cross causes, Social Service training or simply to

take a position. Many who had no such need at all left home for no

other reason than not to have to remain at home. Anything rather

than stay home!

Various activities and organizations were always sufficient excuse

or pretext for absence. Household activities held no appeal for

these young women and often repelled them. The remembrance of

confidences from their mother in some of their intimate sessions

frightened some of them.

The world with its perpetual and superficial and useless activity

drew many young men and even more young women into its crazy

dance and encouraged the desertion of the home.

Interior Reasons: Some homes make no attempt to be attractive;

life in them seems too austere to the children; the mother is too

busy, the father is always grouchy, upset by the least noise, easily

irritated and perhaps, even without knowing it, frigid and abrupt

in his manner of speaking . . . Sometimes there is an unfortunate

lack of harmony between the parents. The atmosphere is always

charged with a threatening storm. There is no relaxing, no peace,

no trust . . . Each one wants his liberty, to go his own way. The

children caught between two fires do not know to which saint they

should dedicate themselves. Therefore they too go away, or if they

can't they close up within themselves . . . Each one in the house

stands on his dignity.

It is quite true that children have become more difficult to train.

They always have been difficult but they are more of a problem

today than in the past. A tendency developed to give them greater

leeway which created a greater distance than was wise between

fathers and sons and especially between mothers and daughters; it

was an imaginary difficulty rather than a real one in many cases

but only too frequently it gave rise to a cruel estrangement.

No one can prevent the difference of twenty years more or less

between father and son or mother and daughter; that it should be a

difference is to be expected; but that it should be a barrier, no!

And while there are parents who cannot remember that they were

once twenty years old, most of them can.

"I dream of a daughter who will be like me but also very different,"

wrote a mother; "because I should not like to produce only a

duplicate but neither should I like to be only a rough draft of a

more perfect pattern."

Then she continues to explain that her daughter will be able to

come to her in all confidence to tell her about her first infatuation;

she will understand her and will even tell her how she herself at

about the age of eighteen fell madly in love with a violinist of

exceptional talent and that her own mother so completely entered

into sympathy with her that she helped her daughter compose the

burning letter of admiration in which her newly-born ardor was

poured out . . . Together mother and daughter waited for the

fervent response . . . which had never come!

Poor children, who feel that their parents do not understand them!

But if they do understand! It is their duty not to approve of

everything, but they understand! Then they are ready to help, not

always by writing a love-letter, but to encourage, to warn, to

support the children in their undertakings, to sustain their

enthusiasm, to lead them to their goal.

"THE WHOLE SEA"

PEOPLE sometimes say: "What is the use of trying to rear children

as good Christians; they will be lost sight of once they enter upon

life in the midst of the great masses. Will any one so much as

notice their presence? Will they be able to leave their mark? Will

they not run the risk of being crushed by the amorphous mass and

quickly covered over by some all-embracing platitudes'" Or again,

"What is the use of trying to establish a home that is a Christian

community, a veritable monastery of Christian virtues--and by that

we don't mean an atmosphere like a morgue but an exemplary

group governed by Christian devotion and love--when all about us

there are only mediocre families? They are not bad but worldly,

with no depth to their Christianity. We would be drowned by all the

rest!"

Pascal gave the answer to these questions when he said, "The

whole sea rises for one stone that is thrown into it." Though it

appear but an insignificant pebble in value, it at least assures

one's contribution to a common work. Has it not always been the

minority groups who transformed the world?

You say, "What is the use of troubling ourselves and working to

form Christians and real men when all about us the mass of

humanity is becoming more and more dechristianized and less

virile? Lacordaire suggests an answer similar to Pascal's, "Simple

drops of water that we are, we wonder what need the ocean has of

us; the ocean could tell us that it is made up of nothing else but

little drops of water."

That is true of individuals; it is true of families.

If we could do nothing to effect numbers we can at least effect

quality--the policy of the leaven. What matters the thickness and

weight of the dough, if the leaven which works in it possesses

irresistible force?

Let us throw dynamic Christian personalities into society; where

can they be better prepared than in Christian families and

institutions? We ought to, that's sure. In the midst of indifferent

families, let us settle some distinctly Christian families who do not

compromise when duty is involved, who radiate joy, manifest the

beauty of virtuous living and bear witness to Christ by apostolic

zeal. And then count on God to assure the result.

The result is certain. We must have faith in Him and believe in the

power of radiating centers.

"Unless there are in our cities and towns, homes where Christian

life flourishes, every hope for Christian civilization is doomed,"

wrote a university man of note shortly before the war.

To Christianize a town, a village, a neighborhood, in short any

milieu involves more than multiplying activities which do not even

get into the blood-stream of real living; it means an invention of

new ways of life, as for example group formation of families who

give a public example of Christian virtues by living in loving and

fraternal communities, breaking with the forms of mediocre living

and substituting for it in their relations with others a true form of

friendship rooted in the Gospel spirit.

What was true before the war is even truer now. There is still a

desperate need for a renovation of the Christian world, and of the

whole world for that matter; this renovation will be achieved only

through Christian families, by thorough-going Christians within

these solid Christian homes, and fervent community groups of

Christian families.

HOME LIFE

SOMEONE has suggested the following "slogans" for Happy Home

Life:

1. Always appear before your family in a good humor. Nothing is

so depressing for the rest of the family as a father or mother out of

sorts. See that the family never has to suffer because of your

attack of nerves or your irritability.

2. Never weary in cheering your family with your smile: It is not

enough to avoid depressing the family; that is purely negative.

You must brighten them up, let their spirits expand. Be especially

vigilant when the little ones are around. You must give them the

alms of a smile, hard though it be at times. What a pity when

children have to say, "I don't like it at our house."

3. Tell what you may tell openly: If something must not be told,

then don't tell it. If you may share it then do so. We ought to let

others profit by our experience, above all, the family.

4. Amiably show the greatest interest in the least things: The

problems of family life are generally not affairs of state. However,

everything that concerns the persons we love most in the world

should be worthy of interest: the baby's first tooth, the honor

ribbon won at school, the entrance of one of the little ones into the

Holy Childhood Association.

5. Banish exaggerated asceticism from your life heroically: If your

home is Christian and each member of the family is learning to

carry his cross, then it is essential to avoid making others suffer

by a too ostentatious or inopportune austerity. Besides there is

abundant opportunity for self-renunciation in devoting oneself to

procuring joy for others. Marie Antoinette de Geuser used to

sacrifice her great longing for recollection and her taste for a

simple life by accompanying her brothers to evening affairs for

which she wore dresses that she said "made her look vain."

6. Be very attentive to treat all alike. Nothing is so disrupting to

home life as the evidence of favoritism for one or the other child.

The same measure for all!

7. Never think of yourself but always of them in a joyous spirit:

Henry the Fourth used to crawl around on all fours, with his

children on his back, to enliven the family get-together. Louis

Racine, the son of the famous Racine, relates of his father, "My

father was never so happy as when he was free to leave the royal

court and spend a few days with us. Even in the presence of

strangers, he dared to be a father; he belonged to all our games. I

remember our procession in the garden in which my sisters were

the clergy, I was the pastor and the author of "Athalie" came along

carrying the cross, singing with us."

8. Never begin an argument, always speak prudently. Discussion

should not be banned unless it develops into bickering or

argument. A free habit of exchanging ideas on a broadening

subject cannot but be profitable; the children should even be

encouraged and led into it to develop in them a wise and

discriminating mind and a habit of suspended judgment. Unsavory

and disturbing subjects as well as those beyond their depth ought

naturally be avoided.

9. Act patiently always, answering graciously always: That it takes

the "patience of an angel" to rule vigilantly over the little world of

the family is beyond question. I must apply myself to it affably.

10. By good-will you will gain hearts and souls without exception:

Love much--that is the key to it all.

These slogans for a Happy Home Life are not marvels of prose but

they do express a precious rule of wise family discipline.

THE FAMILY TABLE

MEALTIME should serve not only to nourish the body but also to

comfort the soul.

Someone wittily said: "Repast, repose." Whoever it was made a

good point.

While the children are still little the mother and father will

probably breakfast alone. When they are older, if the father cannot

be present because of his work, the mother at least should be

present to set the example for table etiquette, to make sure that

the children eat enough, properly, without greediness, and without

rejecting what is not to their liking. This is the hour for the

household to shake off sleepiness which still stupefies them, and

to season the atmosphere with joy and genial good spirit.

At the main meals all except the babies will be present. The

parents should exercise the greatest care not to come to table

laden with their worries, a prey to the preoccupations of their

duties or their professional activities. The only possible exception

to this rule would probably be during a time of family

bereavement or exceptional sorrow. But even then a just mean

should be observed so that the young ones need not be unduly

depressed. They ought to keep all their verve and to a certain

point, their power of fancy.

Except when it is essential that the whole family share the

concerns of all in common, the father and mother should not come

to table looking downhearted and pass the mealtime discussing

their hard lot in life. Children are quick to sense the worry of their

parents, they feel that things are not going well, if there is tension

or estrangement, if evil has hit the home. When they perceive

things of this sort, their little hearts contract and a certain unease

strangles them.

And why make someone who is not equal to it bear the burden and

heat of the day?

After the first few moments in which the father and mother

exchange a few words about decisions they must make concerning

affairs which need not be kept from the children, they ought to

direct the conversation here and there to the younger and the

older; let them tell how they spent the morning or afternoon; show

an interest in the efforts of all, in the work they did, the virtues

they practised or the disappointments they met. Even if the father

and mother have heavy cares, they should force themselves to

escape from them long enough to be attentive listeners to the

thousand details that all wish to recount. Each one must know that

he can speak freely, provided that it is always politely, discreetly

and charitably. Should there be some little chatterboxes, they must

be taught to moderate their intemperance which would prevent

others from having their say. If one of the children seems to be in

bad humor, he should be stimulated by a little kindly teasing, a

kind word or an opportune question.

When the children pull out all the stops, call for pianissimo; when

they observe too long a pause speed up the tempo. Should one or

the other strike a false note get him back in the key again.

The parents should not be satisfied with listening to the little

stories of their children. They too should contribute to the

broadening of their knowledge by giving them worthwhile

information, relating an amusing or instructive story or starting a

discussion on an interesting subject.

Rene Bazin, the novelist, speaks of those families in the North of

France who still keep to the custom of beginning the meal with a

short reading from the life of some saint or famous hero. Wasn't it

Father Lourdel who entered the White Fathers after hearing the

story of the African martyrs? All that relaxes, elevates, and lends

variety. It might even be a reading from the letter of a relative or a

selection from a newspaper. The main idea should be to entertain

and as far as possible expand hearts.

A CHRISTIAN SETTING

ONE of the most touching descriptions is found in the account by

Louis Veuillot of his visit to the home of one of his old friends

whom he had not seen since the day of his marriage fifteen years

before.

The visitor was admitted by the old servant who did not recognize

him; he had to give his name. "Come," she said, "The Master is

upstairs with Madam in their own room."

They went up. It was still the blue room whose picturesque

decoration his old friend had admired so much in days past.

He recognized his friend despite the work of the years upon his

features; his eyes were still keen, but it was evident that he had

been weeping. The wife he remembered only vaguely.

"In my memory she was the fairy of youth dressed in flowing

robes, crowned with flowers, with a smile on her lips, approaching

reality over the green roads of Spring. A smile that nothing chased

away, a mind that had never known fear, ears which had heard

nothing but gentle words, hands which carried only wreaths of

flowers, she personified the morning, the gloom, the promise of

life. So she appeared to me on her Wedding Day--a Christian

woman yet a child, a harmony of beauty, faith, love, candor. She

was earnest because she believed; happy because she loved;

radiant because she was pure.

"Now after fifteen years she is a wife who has aged from the cares

of her home; she is a daughter in mourning for her mother, a

mother in mourning for her children.

"On her pallid face the torrent of her tears have furrowed more

deeply the traces of the years; in her heart, submission to the

Cross; she stifles the sob of Rachel. I remembered that we used to

call her Stella Matutina, Morning star; now, I thought, we would

have to call her Mater dolorosa, Mother of sorrows."

Then his eyes glanced at the walls of the room. They were not

adorned as before. Formerly, there had been no crucifix. Now there

was one. It occupied the place once held by a picture of Diana, the

Goddess of the Chase. A little distance away, there was a picture of

Mary at the Foot of the Cross. "We put it there to replace some

poetic pictures at the time our first child died," the husband

explained.

He continued, "This design above the dressing table where we used

to have the painting of "The Great Festival of Watteau" is a copy of

my father's tombstone in the village cemetery. It is over in that

direction that I began to build and the cypress trees around the

house are the first trees I planted. Here at the side is the picture of

my wife's mother; she died in this room which we alone can use

from now on. These other pictures are what remains to us now of

all the dear souls who reared us, worked and suffered for us and

provided so tenderly for our happiness. And here is a picture of

our dear little Therese, our little saint, the second child God took

from us. She left us last year when she was only six years old. She

cried out before she died, 'God, God, where is God? I want to go to

God!' She took with her the last happy days of her mother."

All that does not depress souls. Earth after all is not heaven. It is

only the vestibule. That in itself is beautiful. And, as the author

explains at the end of his description, "separations only increase

our confidence, love and peace."

JUDICIOUS ECONOMY

CHRISTIANITY demands detachment. Of all, interior detachment--

to use things as if we did not use them. Of some, complete exterior

detachment--the vow of poverty for religious which differs in

degree of severity according to the Rules of the Order entered,

from the actual and rigid deprivation of the disciples of Saint

Francis of Assisi to the simple dependence relative to the

possession of things or administration of money required in

Congregations which are less austere.

But what should be the degree of effective poverty required or at

least desired in people of the world?

We hear people speak of the "duty of improvidence" or the "virtue

of insecurity." What are we to think of these expressions and the

ideal they express?

It is certain that love of gain is dangerous and that privation when

accepted in the right spirit detaches.

It is equally certain that normal gain, that is to say not beyond

bounds and obtained through honest means, is legitimate.

Furthermore, economy, when it is not grounded in avarice or

inordinate attachment to money but in the virtue of prudence, is

not to be condemned.

With the good sense for which he is famous, Saint Francis de Sales

says very aptly in Part One, Chapter Three of his "Introduction to a

Devout Life": "If husbands would not desire to amass any more

than Capuchin monks, would not their piety be ridiculous, ill-

regulated, and unbearable?"

Pope Pius XI, as well as Leo XIII, far from condemning economy

expressed the wish that all should be in a position to benefit from

it. Here is what is expressly stated in the Encyclical,

"Quadragesimo Anno," a replica one ought say of the famous

Encyclical on "The Condition of the Working Classes" written forty

years earlier:

"It is necessary to do everything possible that the share of wealth

which accumulates (in certain hands) may be reduced to a more

equitable measure and that a sufficient abundance of it is divided

among the workers . . . so that they may increase through economy

a patrimony capable of permitting them to meet the burdens of

their family."

There are in these lines a condemnation of excess and the

justification of the practice of economy.

Excess constitutes the hoarding of wealth, the accumulation of

reserves for one's own personal use and with no thought at all for

the common good--"to put in reserve and accumulate for one or

several persons, under the form of gold, moneys, bank notes or

even certain company titles, an excessive power of purchase

instead of spreading it for the common good of the whole of

humanity," is the way Pius XI expresses it.

The practice of economy is clearly indicated: "Under the direction

of the Eternal Law and the universal government of Divine

Providence, notes Leo XIII, man is his law and his providence." We

must not ask God to reward our folly, our folly of spending wildly,

putting nothing aside with the presumptuous assurance oneself,

"God will help me if I fall into want."

There must be no passivity in our abandonment. We have to

cooperate with God. Do one's best and then count on Providence

should be our motto.

Far from us be any such thing as pagan foresight which makes us

practically ignore the role of Divine Providence and count only on

the money we have piled up; which makes us lose sight of the real

purpose behind the practice of economy which is decidedly not to

guarantee protection from want to a few but to help along toward

the well being of all. Must we remind ourselves that

superabundant capital may not be spent according to the whims of

the owner. The surplus wealth which people possess, as our Lord

has clearly pointed out, must be considered as a "trust-fund to be

administered for the good of others, a stewardship, a guardianship

which is to be exercised for the good of the community and in the

interests of the community."

THE PROVIDENTIAL ROLE OF INSECURITY

GOD is not the enemy of security. He wants man to earn the daily

bread for his old age by his labor. He wants society to guard

against depressions and to guarantee to all a life protected by law.

He requires certain privileged individuals to come to the aid of

their brothers in need, especially, as it frequently happens, when

society is powerless to help.

Does that imply then that God cannot permit insecurity for

someone's good? Certainly not.

It is so easy to abuse security:

--Perhaps through selfishness by skimping one's life, refusing the

entrance of love into one's life or setting up barriers to the

possible gift of children from Divine Providence.

--Perhaps by purely pagan prudence, the attitude of the wicked

rich in the Gospel, I will pull down my barns, and build larger

ones.

--Perhaps by pride. What is Divine Providence anyway? I have

money and the means of making it bring in more. God doesn't

count.

In addition to its already precious role of crushing false hopes of

security conceived by pagan-mindedness, insecurity has power

proper to itself.

It forces us to think of God. Here I am, I have done all that I could,

worked my best, saved without being niggardly but with legitimate

prudence and now I am struck by a catastrophe--the death of the

head of the family, or an untimely accident, war . . . I have nothing

left, or if it is not so bad as that, Trial has at least made deep

inroads on the possessions I had.

What should I do? Get discouraged? Never!

I will call up all my energy; try to salvage from the present

situation whatever can help my best efforts and count on Divine

Providence without in the least neglecting foresight. God helps

those who help themselves.

I must believe that Our Lord surrounds those who find themselves

in need through no fault of their own with a special predilection.

"Do not forget," wrote a navy lieutenant to his wife at the outbreak

of the war of 1914, "that uncertainty permits us to count more on

God . . . riches hide some of God's delicate attentions from us . . .

We have the best of the game with God."

What a beautiful expression of faith! Since human aid can so easily

fail, God owes it to Himself to come to the aid of those who put

their trust in Him. "We have the best of the game with God!"

Consequently, abandonment to God is in keeping with wise

foresight.

A person does his best to avoid falling into a state of need. If God

requires that all or much of his efforts come to naught, he ought

not despair; let him submit valiantly to the yoke again; if he has a

lively faith, he will thank God for having permitted "the caresses

of poverty." The individual of himself could never have achieved

the actual poverty of religious life; he can now at least accept the

privations permitted by Providence and strive to live more literally

the Gospel precept: "Make for yourself purses that do not grow old,

a treasure unfailing in heaven, where neither thief draws near nor

moth destroys." Luke XII, 33.

THE SNUFF BOX

FATHER VAUGHAN, known from the poorest to the most

distinguished sections of London, as a famous preacher, the

brother of several prelates one of whom was the Cardinal

Archbishop of Westminster, learned much from his father who was

a colonel in the British Army.

One day, at table, the little fellow took a very greedy portion of

jam. His father reproved him for it and clinched his correction

with the comment, "Whoever wants to become a man--a gentleman-

-knows how to conquer himself."

The child was hurt and becoming somewhat impudent retorted,

"Oh, after all, Papa, you have your snuff box!"

Colonel Vaughan immediately put his hand into his pocket, drew

out the snuff box and before the whole group threw it into the fire.

The history of the Vaughan family provides many such incidents

which make profitable reading.

That's what we call fair play. If one wants to get another to do

something, he must first of all do it himself. There should be

justice. Not that children have a right to judge their parents, but

parents should be careful not to give their children occasion to

judge them badly.

We are sometimes amazed when young people who were very

pious at one time and who have received a Christian education

from start to finish, later on abandon the practice of their Faith.

We must go back to the source. The mother was a practicing

Catholic, the father suited himself about attendance at Mass; he

had very quickly given up family prayer. The children rarely saw

him perform an act of worship. No other explanation is needed to

clarify everything.

The same holds true for the spirit of sacrifice, for prayer, and for

refined manners.

Here is a child at table who has a mania for crumbling his bread

into little pieces or to scatter crumbs all about his plate. The

mother corrects him, for it.--"Oh but Papa does it too!"

So it goes with everything. People say they are terrible children.

Why of course, all children are terrible. They record with unerring

fidelity the examples they witness. And since examples strike

incomparably harder than words, parents preach in vain, if they

themselves do not practice; instead of forming, they deform. who

knows whether the little irregularities of today will not culminate

in the regrettable crimes of tomorrow.

Great consideration should be given to the fact that "the child is

father to the man." Parents are therefore bound to watch

themselves, their habits, their behavior, their speech.

Parents will be so free at table; they criticize the Pope, the bishops,

the pastor, such and such persons among their relatives and

acquaintances; their judgments are only too frequently severe or

at least imprudent. Need they be astonished if later their children

"who come from such Christian families," are free in passing

criticisms about their highest superiors and other persons most

deserving of respect. Whose fault is it?

"But they're so little; they don't understand what we're talking

about!" How do you know? Although they do not understand

everything or at least not right away, some impression will stay

with them, and the habit of judging indiscriminately will be well

planted to sprout later. What great damage is done! What out-and-

out imprudence!

I will pay great attention to my children. They can be my best

educators. I should give them the least possible occasion to teach

me a lesson.

ESTRANGED PARENTS

THERE can be such separation of soul between parents that they

finally live their own lives; they no longer live together as husband

and wife; they are father and mother, but not exactly husband and

wife--a situation unmeasurably sad.

Sadder still is the home in which the father and mother still

maintain husband and wife relations but do not understand each

other at all; they are perpetually arguing or sulking or exchanging

sharp words; they no longer love each other and consequently find

that their life together offers nothing but constant occasions to

make each other suffer.

If these unfortunate individuals have children, especially younger

children, have they never wondered what possible questions might

be tormenting their little heads; what bewildered anguish strangles

their little souls which vainly seek to bestow their frail yet ardent

love somewhere in this remote region made bleak and barren by

battles.

How can they decide whose part to take? They can't. "Whom do you

prefer, your mamma or your papa?" someone asked a little boy. He

hesitated a moment, then said, "I prefer them both." And even if

the child's heart leans more toward the one than the other, how

could it decide who is more in the right or more in the wrong?

Those wretched parents who are so out of harmony with each other

ought to meditate often on the touching prayer of the little child

who got the idea of walking his estranged parents down to the

beach one fine evening; as he walked along the way with his father

and mother on either side of him, silent and glum, mulling over

their own sad thoughts, he said softly--but still loud enough for his

parents to hear--this little prayer of his own making:

"O my dear little God. I feel so bad because Papa is angry at

Mamma! Oh, if You knew how bad I feel! Please make it so he won't

be angry anymore, so I won't be afraid anymore and so these

terrible things, which you know about, may go far away from me

because I am just a little child. Make it that I can love Papa and

Mamma again with all my heart, my whole heart all full, because

You see, my little God when somebody is angry I feel too bad and I

am too afraid and, then, You know I am just a little child! Amen."

The Church is opposed to divorce, because it is an attack on the

reality of love--and it is just that, for what is a love that is not

indissoluble or the intimacies of marriage if they can be enjoyed

with someone else during the lifetime of one's husband or wife;

because divorce is the ruination of the family as Paul Bourget has

the Jesuit Father Evrard explain in his novel "A Divorce": A boat

happened to be at a port where one of the passengers wished to go

ashore; there was an epidemic on board ship; no one was allowed

to leave the boat. The particular individual was inconvenienced by

it but the good of the society overruled. So too, it is much better

that the home be saddened than that the family be sacrificed. The

Church is also opposed to divorce because it brings nothing but

unhappiness to the child.

The same is true when the divorce is not a formal breaking up of

the family; it is enough for the parents to be at odds, to cause the

child to suffer, and generally, quite intensely.

Charity to their children obliges the parents to try everything to

reestablish their union which is jeopardized.

God bless the homes in which the arms of little children guard

forever the close union between the father and the mother.

THE WOMANLY IDEAL

PERHAPS no one has more beautifully extolled the womanly ideal

than Charles Peguy.

What he admired first and foremost in woman was her special

faculty for putting soul into the daily humdrum of the eternal

repetitions of everyday life in the home. He has Our Lord say:

My love goes out to you, O most precious one

To you, most submissive at the feet of destiny,

Most subject to the masters of the feast,

Most eager and most solicitous.

I love you so much, O most earnest one,

You who are most responsive to claims of work

Most unknown and most glorious

Most attentive to the care of the fold.

The smallest action, the most ordinary, the most routine, though

submerged in the greatest monotony of recurring days and

engulfed by the unfolding centuries, can be of immense value if

performed with a great love:

....You spend yourself utterly, O only needy one,

In washing dishes and keeping house

O Woman, you who set in order both labors and days.

But then, woman, is not only a worker, a housekeeper, she is a

mother, a mother who is solicitous for her little ones, a mother who

never tires of contemplating the infinite hidden away behind a

curved forehead or stubborn eyes. Man does not sense it. He is not

sufficiently delicate or spiritual for that. Woman alone has a

glance sufficiently keen and supernatural to discover not only the

corporal needs of a fragile and tiny body but also the deep and

innocent soul washed by the waters of baptism and rich with

countless graces which must be put to good use in the future.

Nothing is so beautiful as a child falling asleep while saying

his prayers, says God (according to Peguy)

I tell you nothing in the world is so beautiful . . .

Yes, I tell you, I don't know anything so beautiful in all the world

As a little child falling asleep saying his prayers

Under the wings of its Guardian Angel

A little child, who laughs at the angels while beginning to fall

asleep

And who gets his prayers all mixed up because he no longer

has his mind on them

Who mixes up the words of the Our Father with the words of

the Hail Mary

While a veil is already falling upon his eyelids

The veil of night upon his sight and upon his voice.

Truly, it is woman's honor and her duty, as a consequence of her

vocation, to be very near to souls and to the supernatural world.

Then too woman is more loving than man. She has a sense of pity

and compassion. She always has something in common with the

sympathetic traits manifested by Joan of Arc even as a little girl.

One day she saw two little starving and sad-hearted children

walking along a roadway. "It grieved me so much, I gave them all

my bread, my noon-day lunch and my four o'clock snack. Their joy

hurt me: I thought of all the other starving people who had nothing

to eat, so many starving people, countless hungry people. I felt

that I was going to break out weeping. I gave them my bread. A

beautiful gesture! But they will be hungry again tonight; they will

be hungry again tomorrow . . . There, they have gone into the

future, into distress, into the anxiety for the future . . . O, my God,

who will give them their daily bread?"

Joan's great compassion for souls tore even more at her heart than

her anguish over the physical hunger of bodies. "If only we could

see the beginning of Your reign established, o my Lord!" she

prayed.

Honor to Woman for the greatness of her heart!

HER HUSBAND'S HELPER

PASTEUR'S wife was a precious aid to the renowned scientist who

was her husband.

The help she gave him was not always scientific, intellectual,

technical. In the organization of most homes, wives will not have

to give their husbands only that type of help. Moral support is

more essential.

It was a little home in which unity and understanding flourished

but where money was scarce. The husband needed an auto for his

work; he had an old jalopy and it had taken him three long months

to pay for it. One day shortly after his last payment, the rear axle

broke while he was turning a corner. The poor fellow returned

home utterly discouraged. His wife who was courageous,

confident, and who was furthermore expecting a baby, said not a

word of reproach or discouragement. On the contrary she tried to

console him:

"Look, we are happy; God loves us. We ought to pay Him a little

ransom for all the joys He has given us. Come, let us pray and not

lose hope. He can't abandon us." Their hearts raised together to

God, they found themselves more closely united than ever in their

human love. Together they had drawn from the same Spring of

Hope, the same Font of Goodness. They were united in perfect

Unity.

It is clear that a wife ought to expect to find in her husband a

strong man, someone who does not go to pieces at the first set-

back; who knows how to struggle with the tempests and bring their

bark safely into port. She certainly does not expect him to exhibit

his virility by vain attitudes or a show-off's behavior; she does not

expect him to swagger or substitute boasting or protestations for

ability to act, for solidity of character, and for real bravery. She

naturally much prefers one who is truly a master, a master in his

profession or in his work whatever it is, a master in the conduct of

the home, able to make decisions and to assume responsibility.

She wants no irresolute or timid chap who takes two steps back for

every step forward or whose will is changeable, capricious, petty;

nor does she want a man who gets submerged by details and

forgets the whole, but a man endowed with an eye for detail

coupled with a power for organization. She does not want a man

whom prejudices blind and who is not sure of himself; no, she

wants a man who can be resolute without being tyrannical,

determined without being narrow and stubborn when a need arises

for changing one's tactics--a man of peace, of thought, and of

perseverance...

What a list of virtues! Can they ever be found in one single soul?

Let us suppose a man has the whole array of these virtues or even

the principal ones among them, will he not even then need moral

support at some time or other?

There are moments of discouragement, dark hours either because

events bring sorrow and anguish or because nature grows weak or

health fails or vigor of character temporarily subsides.

How helpful it is in these situations which are not at all impossible

to be able to find reinforcement in the companion of his life! They

started out as two but life together has made them one; each of

them must support the other in view of their common work.

To each the task is a true principle but when danger threatens, it is

not too much to have to face the same threat together....

What security for the wife to know that she can find in her

husband the help she dreamed of! For the husband when he can be

certain of being understood by his wife in periods of material or

spiritual difficulty and not only understood but supported,

cheered, and comforted!

Thank You, O my God, for giving me in my life-companion the

intelligent, disinterested, attentive aide You knew I would need,

You said, "It is not good for man to be alone." You gave me another

self. Help me to find in this other half of me, my other self, the

strength to be strong.

Good Sense

A SISTER missionary describes the following family episode which

took place in Congo:

Strong stalwart Bateke who had recently married came looking for

me one morning with a very dejected appearance, or perhaps,

disgusted would be more correct.

"Well now, my friend, what's the matter? Aren't things going well?

Is your wife sick?"

"Oh no, Sister, she's not sick" (this in a very dry tone)

"What's the matter then?"

"Ah, that one" (meaning his wife). She doesn't have any sense.

"Nothing to eat! She's always outdoors talking. Nothing is good in

the hut. She needs . . ."

"Well bring her here," I interrupted to show myself willing to help.

"I will scold her and remind her of her duties."

"Oh no, that's not enough!"

"What then," I asked slightly worried.

"That one, (still referring to his wife) ought to come here for at

least a month to get a head on her shoulders!"

"All right! Bring her."

The next day my Bateke came back pulling "that one," who looked

very sheepish, after him.

"How is it my daughter," I asked her reproachfully, "that you don't

understand your new duties better? If you do not know how to

keep house or prepare a meal for your husband, it would be better

to come back with us for several days, maybe a month. Do you

want to?"

"Oh yes," she sighed.

"That is fine," beamed the happy husband.

Obediently the young wife began her new apprenticeship to learn

how to prepare good cassava and fish with oil dressing, the staple

food of her lord and master.

Bateke came to see his recluse before the month was up.

"You can take your wife back now," I offered, "she will be wise and

capable from now on."

"No, No," protested the obstinate husband. "She must stay the

thirty days."

And at the end of thirty days the couple was reunited. The last

news of them was good. My Bateke is satisfied. "That one has sense

now."

What is possible in Congo is scarcely possible among us. A

husband cannot send his wife back to school for a course in Home

Economics or back home to her mother to be instructed in her

duties . . . As a consequence his home is run helter skelter fashion.

Nothing is ready on time, the food is spoiled, the clothing is not

properly cared for, the bills are not paid, the accounts are not kept

straight, the children are not dressed on time--there is general

hubbub. How can there be peace in such a home where a woman

has no sense?

Sometimes it is the man of the house who lacks sense. He

manifests no business ability at all; wastes time and money; has

no feeling for organization or sense of value; invests foolishly on

the word of others and is an easy mark for wily and scheming

confidence men. He is hesitant; can never make up his mind or if

he does make a decision, he corrects it the next moment; begins

everything but finishes nothing; undertakes a profession in which

he expects to move mountains and work marvels only to abandon

it several months later through lassitude or because he ambitions

a career more to his liking and more lucrative.

This changing humor makes him choose one school after another

for his children; none of them are ever exactly what he wants.

Naturally the children suffer from it, they can't profit by their

classes, lose out on grades, and are in danger of becoming

changeable too.

For a man above all the qualities of the heart can never replace

solidity of the mind. He has to have a head on his shoulders, quick

discernment, accurate knowledge, the power to decide, if not

promptly in delicate matters at least always firmly, the ability to

revise his decision when advisable and when the evidence

demands it, because obstinacy has no value and reveals even more

than indecision that a person lacks sense; but he must also have

the power to hold his own against wind and tide, even when the

odds seem against him, provided of course, that what he looks

upon as opposition is not some difficult obligation of the moment

he should be meeting rather than fighting.

WOMEN AND EDUCATION

A WOMAN educator of note in her book "L'Education selon l'Esprit,"

expresses an opinion that deserves full acceptance: "What is best

for a young woman is not to be entirely absorbed in material works

and the care of children but to keep a little freedom of time and of

mind to continue her intellectual development. The gift she makes

of herself to her own will be only the more precious; the services

she will render them will be of a superior quality. She herself will

be ennobled by these disinterested pleasures, defended against

the temptations that are born of fatigue, boredom, and a barren

interior life.

There are unfortunately some young women for whom this advice

would be most difficult if not impossible to follow; they are

obliged to work in the time they have free from family duties to

provide for the necessities of life. But there are those who have

leisure. That they ought to profit by it to cultivate their minds is

quite evident.

The principal reason is the one already mentioned--to be able to

give something of the intellectual riches they have acquired to

their children later. One needs to know so many things to

enlighten their young minds, to open up their little souls just at

the threshold of life; their questions should be answered by

something better than an irritable "Stop bothering me!"

Another advantage of growing in culture is that it helps one

struggle against a sense of futility. Not that the thousand

occupations demanded in a home are futile. But there are, over and

above the essential things, a thousand little nothings with which

one can fritter her time. That is the immense domain of the futile

in which women flit about untiringly as a bird hops from bar to bar

in its cage, a pretty bird of paradise.

But there is something worse than to be busy with little nothings

and that is to do nothing. There is just a void, an exaggerated

place left open for day dreaming--and the normal consequence--an

open door for temptation.

"Because what's to be done in a home unless one dreams?"

If one does not apply the mind to serious and uplifting reflections,

the devil will be right on hand to turn it to fantastic hopes: one

relives stories read, reviews step by step girlish infatuations,

ruminates over the imaginary or real deficiencies in her husband .

. . Temptations are not far away!

Even if conscience preserves such a one from sin, she is always in

danger of trouble, extreme sensitiveness and boredom from the

drudgery of daily tasks.

Good reading which elevates the soul and stimulates thinking,

which supplements religious knowledge, puts one in contact with

great souls, will inspire to virtue and produce wonderful effects in

the individual.

At the present time when the apostolate must deal with so many

problems, is it asking too much of the one who expects to do good

to be highly competent? The religious renaissance must begin with

the educated groups. Ideas will always rule the world.

What poverty it is for women, so devoted as they are to the

apostolate, to lack ideas; to live only by routine! They have

forgotten but one thing--to light their lamps!

ENDURANCE

ABBE PERREYVE wrote to a young man of twenty who had told him

of his hopes to marry:

"Ah, my friend, next to the happiness of serving God in

consecrated virginity, what is more beautiful than to link one's life

with that of a cherished woman; to share one's whole soul, that is

all his sorrows; to begin with her that brief pilgrimage on which

there are so many joys and tears that there is scarcely time to do a

little good? What is more worthy of an immortal soul than to give

his love in youth to the soul he must love always and before God

to purify the ardor of his desires by submitting them to the duties

of fidelity and of paternity?

"Do not laugh at love as those foolish souls do who are incapable

of it. There is no nobler word among men. Love is not the pleasure,

not the selfishness of enjoyment; it is not the delusion of a brutal

passion. The one who loves gives himself more than anything else.

The highest degree of love is sacrifice. That is why he only knows

how to love who immolates his rest, his joys, his fortune even life

itself for the being he ought to love on earth and in heaven."

Wherever marriage is seriously and correctly regarded the word

sacrifice is part of its vocabulary. There is no doubt about it,

marriage brings with it the sweetest of human joys that can be

tasted on this earth; but it also involves self-abnegations that are

essential.

The Countess of Adhemar wrote to Abbe Fremont:

"Man and woman are united, not as they often believe with the best

faith in the world, to give each other happiness, but, in reality, to

seek it of each other. As their individual concepts of happiness

may differ, there ensues for both of them a painful awakening.

That excellent bulletin the "Association du Mariage" Chretien

carried a fine article by an author who identified himself with the

initials C.B. The ideas expressed in it have much to contribute

here:

"Love is not a bargain, it is not even an exchange; it is a sacrifice

which should always be mutual. Each giving up and sacrificing the

best of himself so that the best of the other's self may live and

grow.

"Clearly the great test is endurance. Oh, if only the honeymoon

could last forever. But that cannot be. They must pass from blind

love to clear-sighted love; time requires this transformation but

"the line" is not easy to cross--it is not easy to go from the torrid to

the temperate zone. They must protect themselves against being

deluded about this.

"'Two young people go up to the altar for the beautiful nuptial

ceremony,' writes Father Lacordaire, 'They bring with them all the

joy and all the sincerity of their youth; they swear eternal love for

each other.

"'But soon their joy diminishes, fidelity stumbles, the eternity of

their pledges is broken to bits.

"'What happened? Nothing. Hour followed hour; they are what they

were except for one hour more. But one hour is much.'"

The author adds it is true "outside of God."

In order to triumph over time, over its duration, over monotony,

over the friction resulting from character differences which

become more evident with time, a supernatural spirit is absolutely

necessary; it alone is able to call forth sacrifice, persevering

sacrifice inspired by love.

UNBEARABLE HUSBANDS

To a brother of his who was very impatient, Saint Francis de Sales

could not refrain from saying one day, "There is one woman in the

world who must be very happy."

"Who," asked his brother.

"The woman you might have married had you married."

Madam Acarie, a mother of six children was left a widow in 1613.

She later entered Carmel taking the name Marie of the Incarnation.

Her husband had been an unpleasant character and helped not a

little to enrich her with the virtues that led to her beatification.

Once in a rare spell of good humor he admitted, "They say she will

be a saint some day; I shall have helped her become one; they will

speak of me at her canonization."

Guy de Rabutin-Chantal, the father-in-law of Saint Jane Frances de

Chantal, who took the saint to his home after her husband's death

was extremely hard to live with.

"He belonged to those well meaning and difficult old men who

work efficaciously to make saints out of their women when they

have in them the stuff from which saints are made," commented

one of his biographers.

After the death of a celebrated philosopher, his wife obtained an

audience with the king of Sweden. The latter inquired with kindly

interest about the habits of the deceased. The wife, in a sudden

outburst, exclaimed, "Your Majesty, he was unbearable!" A certain

historian recording her remark added, "If all biographers were as

sincere as that lady, they would be able to engrave her judgment

on her pedestal of all the monuments raised to heroes."

Without accepting that opinion about heroes as our own--and

admitting possibly that we are more willing to forgive them their

foibles than others--is not the severe judgment on husbands a

revelation of not too good an opinion?

And we could extend the litany. Chaliapine relates that a Russian

general of his acquaintance used to give way to terrible fits of

temper at home. The life of the general's wife was a veritable hell.

Happily one day she discovered a clever strategy. At the moment

her husband's fury started to let loose, she dashed to piano and

struck up the national anthem. Must we believe the marvelous

results obtained? The general stood at attention; his anger cooled

off.

Every woman can't have a general for a husband nor one so

susceptible to harmony either. We know that music refines

manners. How marvelous it can be on that point. But the best

music for the wife in cases of this kind will be the music of

silence.

Saint Monica's husband used to drink heavily and when he came

home with insults on his lips or speaking unbecoming or

unintelligible words the poor wife had to practice a patience that

we can readily imagine. She answered nothing and waited until the

storm passed to remind him gently and lovingly of the law of God.

She won almost unhoped-for results, which testified to her

sanctity: she obtained the complete cure of her husband who

became a temperate and controlled man.

Is there anything obnoxious in me which brings sufferings into my

home? I will correct it as soon as possible.

UNBEARABLE WIVES

YESTERDAY the men were on trial. The chapter on the ladies will

be no less edifying.

"What you need," said a man to one of his bachelor friends who

was disturbed by a vague nervous disorder, "what you need is a

wife to share your troubles."

"But I don't have any troubles."

"That is all right. You will have them after you marry."

Such a story is not very expressive of esteem for marriage. Woman

certainly has the power to console, but also the power to cause

suffering.

The husband scolds, the wife gets angry. Does that make things

any better? The husband, once the outburst is over forgets about

it; not so the wife. She holds in reserve, unless she is very good,

amazing desires for revenge. Moreover, she is argumentative.

"Look darling, look at the pretty bird that's with those two crows."

"Yes, I see, but there aren't just two crows, there are three."

"No, darling, look, there are only two."

"But I tell you there are three. It's always like that. I never have the

right to be in the right."

And soon the tears drop from her lashes.

Some women will pout rather than argue.

After a dispute which was of no great moment, a certain wife,

pricked in her vanity, risked this imprudent threat. "If you don't

yield to me, I won't talk to you for fifteen days." The husband paid

no attention and thought that after a short while life would settle

down to normal again. But it didn't. Silence. Silence. She would not

deign to answer his questions even those asked with the most

angelic sweetness.

The husband, beside himself, came to a decision. He began to

empty out all the cabinets and table drawers, take the pictures off

the walls and was about to attack the drapes with a pair of

scissors.

"What are you doing there?"

"I am looking for your tongue."

Bursts of laughter restored peace. The pity is that the bursts of

laughter had not occurred fifteen days earlier.

Tenacity has great worth. A woman probably has too much of it.

She may expect to let it compensate for a certain strength she

lacks. She realizes she is wrong because she is intelligent. She

does not think she ought to yield because a miserable vanity gets

in between her conscience and her decision.

It still remains that it is the woman in spite of her limitations and

weaknesses who most often creates the happiness of the home and

the man who spoils it. The moralist was not wrong who said,

"With all their faults, their perfidy, their subterfuge, their envy and

their lies, with their strong perfumes, their paint and their powder,

their imperfections and their wretchedness, poor women are so

much more courageous, more generous, more patient, more

virtuous, more faithful than we men!"

Let each of the married partners judge himself or herself by his or

her own conscience, and mindful of the happiness of the other,

correct as soon as possible what might trouble the harmony of the

home.

THE COUNSELS OF MADAME ELIZABETH

THE sister of Louis XVI, Madame Elizabeth who was a woman of

fine psychological acumen and deep nobility of character gave to

one of her ladies in waiting who had recently married this practical

advice:

"Above all seek to please your husband . . . he has good qualities

but he can also have some that are not so pleasing. Make it a rule

for yourself never to concentrate on these and above all never

permit yourself to talk of them; you owe it to him as you owe it to

yourself. Try to look at his heart; if you truly possess it, you will

always be happy. Make his house agreeable for him; let him always

find in it a woman eager to please him, busy with her duties, with

her children, and you will in this way win his confidence; when

you once have that, you will be able to do, with the mind heaven

has given you and a bit of cleverness, anything you wish."

The outcome is interesting. Everyone knows it: "Man reigns but

woman governs."

"I will do it if God wills it," said the husband of a rather dictatorial

wife.

"Now you are talking nonsense," said his friend, "why you haven't

even asked your wife's permission."

Woman instinctively, and above all when she loves, loves to be

docile. Nothing costs her too much and at times she goes to the

point of sacrifices extremely taxing for herself if her heart is

captive. But at the same time she loves to dominate.

The heroine of a comedy revealed, with exaggeration of course, a

trait that is often found in woman. The said heroine had not yet

married but she already was engaged in making her fiancee dance

to her thirty-six wills and to goad him on with a thousand pin

pricks: "I prick him, I make him go, I already treat him as my

husband."

Even when they are not so naughty, women by using to advantage

their weakness and their charm usually succeed in making their

husbands pretty much as they want them.

In his genially caustic style Emile Faguet used to say, "Women are

divided into three classes: those who are inclined to obey

sometimes, those who never obey, those who always command."

Let women never use their power for the egotistic satisfaction of

their self-love. Let them rather have in view only God's glory and,

especially in the spiritual government of their home, let them

know how to make God's glory understood as it ought to be. They

should be able to gain a hearing in the most vital matters when

duty is at stake or when the worship due to God is involved; in

other matters let them be ready to yield. They will purchase by

their perpetual abnegation in these lesser things the right to be

listened to in more important matters and their husbands will

realize that when they do resist their wishes it is not because of

vanity but because of virtue.

WOMAN, THE STRENGTH OF MAN

IS IT not often true in a home that "the strength of the man is many

times in the woman."

Man, who in principle at least and often in fact possesses physical

resistance and moral energy, is sometimes singularly deficient; he

hides under the appearance of strength an intimate need to lean

on someone, to be led, encouraged, assisted.

Is it not also true that one great source of happiness in marriage is

the reciprocal help the two give each other, the husband to his

wife, the wife to her husband?

Joseph Proudhon from whom we would not expect such correct

ideas, has given us some beautiful pages on the help that woman

is called to give to her husband. He took for his theme the Bible

text: "And the Lord God said: It is not good for man to be alone: let

us make him a help like unto himself."

"Woman is a helper for man because by showing him the ideality

of his being she becomes for him a principle of admiration, a gift

of strength, of prudence, of justice, of courage, of patience, of

holiness, of hope, of consolation without which he would be

incapable of bearing up under the burden of life, of preserving his

dignity, of fulfilling his destiny of bearing with himself.

"Woman is man's helper first of all in work by her attentions, her

sweet company, her vigilant charity. It is she who wipes his

forehead that is moist with perspiration, who rests his tired head

upon her knees, who cools the fever of his blood and pours balm

into his wounds. She is his sister of charity. Ah! let her only look at

him, let her season the bread she brings him with her tenderness:

he will be strong as two, he will work like four.

"She is his helper in the things of the mind by her reserve, her

simplicity, her prudence, by the vivacity and the charm of her

intuitions.

"She is his helper in justice, she is the angel of patience, of

resignation, of tolerance, the guardian of his faith, the mirror of

his conscience, the source of his devotedness.

"Man can brook no criticism, no censure from man; even

friendship is powerless to conquer his obstinacy. Still less will he

suffer harm or insult. Woman alone knows how to make him come

back and prepares him for repentance and for pardon.

"Against love and its entanglements, woman, marvelous being that

she is, is for man the only remedy.

"Under whatever aspect he regards her, she is the fortress of his

conscience, the splendor of his soul, the principle of his

happiness, the star of his life, the flower of his being."

What praise for woman! What responsibility for her to be in her

home, the fortress of conscience, almost a living translation of

divine commands!

Let her strive to deserve this role by the solidity of her principles,

the energy of her convictions, the convincing strength of her calm

statements.

IS GENIUS CELIBATE?

CERTAIN authors have denied that woman is a help for man at

least intellectually and often also morally. They claim that

feminine contact and the demands of the home weaken the strong;

the words of the physiologist Garnier, "genius is celibate" have

been capitalized on by some.

One of the great advocates of this thesis is Tolstoi who did not

hesitate fourteen months after his marriage to have one of the

characters in his book "War and Peace" say:

"Never marry, never, my friend. That is my advice. Do not marry,

at least not before you can say to yourself that you have

accomplished the whole of your destiny before discovering woman

such as she is. Otherwise you will be cruelly disillusioned. Marry

when you are no longer anything but an old man, good for nothing;

otherwise all there is of good and noble in you will perish; all will

be spent in little things. Yes, if in the future you expect anything

of yourself, you will feel that all is finished for you, except the

parlor where you will be on the same footing as a court valet or a

fool . . . My wife is an admirable woman. She is one of those rare

women with whom one can be tranquil about his honor, but, my

God, what would I not give not to be married . . . You are the first

person, the only person to whom I say that, because I love you."

Tolstoi himself left his home to escape from this sad sensation of

a missed life.

The part that is true about all this is that for certain individuals

and in certain careers the choice of a companion for life is of

paramount importance.

Ozanam, who was a professor at the Sorbonne, wondered if he

would ever find the woman of his dream; not only someone who

would love him, but someone who would understand him; be

willing to see him buried in books and apparently neglect her to

keep company with ideas; someone who in the intimate converse

of conjugal life would not be silent, unintelligent, or unreceptive

but capable of taking an interest in her husband's studies and

even help him in his work.

Jean du Plessis de Grenedan, a marine officer, used to wonder if he

would ever find the woman he hoped for; a woman who would

accept the career of her husband and not melt into tears at every

leave-taking as if her husband heartlessly went away to make her

suffer; who would not, except for serious reasons unbiased by

whim, require him to give up going to sea and accept a land

commission; someone who would not be depressed during his long

absences.

Because of a too selfish idea of home-life, some women do weaken

their husbands, hamper their vocation, their profession or their

apostolate. They have that type of jealousy which considers all

that is not given to them as stolen from them. They are satisfied

only if they can keep the chosen one of their heart always with

them and have him constantly at their feet.

A wife should stimulate and encourage but never paralyze.

THE POWER OF A SMILE

THERE is in Rome not far from the basilica of Saint Agnes, which

was built over the spot at which she was martyred, another church-

-Our Lady of Peace. It is more or less a custom for newlyweds to

attend Mass here the day following their marriage; it is as if they

realized that Mary's help is none too much to help them preserve

peace in their homes.

Nothing so helps to preserve the mutual attraction husband and

wife have for each other as cheerfulness, the habit of taking

everything in good part, of keeping one's balance in the midst of

disturbing circumstances, of bearing personal anxieties without

letting them become noticeable, so as not to sadden the other.

Nothing so quickly kills this attraction as nagging over little

things, pettiness in any form, referring to the blunders of the

other, magnifying some omissions, manifesting suspicion. The

ideal of cheerfulness is to display as spontaneously as possible,

without the least trace of effort an amiable gaiety ever ready to

smile.

Wrangling, ill-humor or simply sulkiness are the great enemies of

homes. Particularly when these things have their source in the wife

is there grave danger; for husbands may be tempted to seek

outside the home and out of the path of duty the ray of sunshine

they cannot find at home.

Little heed should be paid to imprudent comments on the part of

neighbors and acquaintances, supposedly so well-meaning, who

think they are rendering a service by revealing, confidentially of

course, the goings-on of this one and that one. Little heed should

be given to insinuations that are made sometimes without any

foundation; they have a peculiar power to throw a gloom over the

soul if they get a hearing. Peace is lost to the soul; someone's

perfidy or inopportune truthfulness killed it.

No matter what happens keep your power to smile.

A certain wife was on the verge of despair; bits of gossip she

picked up here and there and other evidence which she thought

she discovered revealed to her that her husband was in love with

another woman. This woman had been flitting about the

unfortunate man; at first he pretended not to notice it; one day out

of a sense of duty he actually put her in her place. But then, little

by little, her persistence won out and he yielded ground. He was

not far from actual betrayal of his home.

His wife, not knowing what to do, went to her confessor. The priest

first put her through an examination of conscience: "Have you

always in your home life manifested patience, no matter what

happened; a joy that uplifts, a reserve which attracts, a calmness

which inspires confidence?"

She had to confess that she had failed many times against these

virtues. Instead of showing herself more attractive, she had

allowed her wounded self-love--which could easily be understood--

get the upper hand; she did not hide her suspicious attitude and

began to give way to little expressions of spitefulness. Such

unwise tactics, instead of retaining her husband's loyalty, helped

to strengthen the attraction of her rival.

"Act differently," the confessor advised her. "Learn to smile!"

A short while after, the husband in a moment of confidence

confessed the risk he had run and revealed that the smile of his

wife and her confident joyous spirit had saved him from the abyss.

"I did not have the right to destroy such happiness, to annihilate a

hope that was so evident."

Wives would do well to follow this very judicious advice: "Love

your husbands as if you were sure of their hearts and act as if you

still had to win them."

A DEVASTATING DISPOSITION

EVEN when a person has great desires for good he can fall far short

of the program for holiness he dreamed of following; he lets

himself slip into faults of speech or unpleasant attitudes--yes,

unfortunately he may fall more seriously or come perilously near

betraying his strongest obligations.

If then he finds himself constantly confronted with harshness,

reproaches, a set face, he may perhaps drift farther away from his

duty instead of being sorry for his negligences and failings.

He has a much better chance of getting back to the right path if he

is met not with irritability and sharpness but with a receptive

gentleness that announces and promises pardon without having to

express it, yet is withal earnest and firm.

Does God deal otherwise with us? He tried throughout the Old

Testament to adopt a severe manner and to brandish a threat, a

plague or some other menace each time the Chosen People went

astray. He realized that this was not the best way to lead His poor

elect people back to repentance. He changed His formula, and

modified His way with them.

Rather than hurl thunderbolts at them He offered His Heart:

"Behold this Heart that has so loved men!" What cruelty not to give

any other return than ingratitude, contempt.

It is striking in the Gospel that Our Lord is not so much concerned

about demanding our fidelity as He is about revealing His own. He

does not say, "Here is how much you must love Me and the way

you should love Me." No, but "Greater love than this no man hath."

"To such an extent has Christ loved the world," marveled Saint

Paul--to such an extent! Do you understand?

Christ reiterated His love and gave new proofs of His love much

more than He expressed reproach.

There are few souls who can imitate this Christ-like magnanimity

when they suspect or discover that someone has failed them. Yet

we must all strive for it and aim at attaining the perfection of

Christianity, the complete Gospel ideal.

Isabelle d'Este was forsaken to a certain extent by her husband,

one of her biographers informs us. Did she shower him with

reproaches? Did she send him upbraiding letters, violent

literature? Nothing of the sort. With firm simplicity mixed with

tenderness she wrote:

". . . I am very well. Your Highness must not say it is my fault if I

disagree with you, because as long as you showed me some love,

no one could have persuaded me that you did not love me. But I do

not need anyone to tell me to know that for some time Your

Highness has loved me very little. However as this is an

unpleasant subject, I shall cut it short and speak no more of it..."

Whether or not her husband returned to his duty after receiving

this message is not so sure. There are some hearts that resist

everything. At least his wife had chosen the best means to win him

back.

MEN'S VIRTUES VERSUS WOMEN'S VIRTUES

MANY MEN, still victims of an old prejudice, are very demanding

when there is question of the moral life of their wife or their

fiancee, yet strangely indulgent with regard to their own moral

life. It is taken for granted that the wife must be pure and remain

pure; she must come to marriage as a virgin and preserve the

chastity of her married state. What of the man?

It is significant that women too seem to expect men to act

differently, and to accept this double standard, as the reaction of

the young woman in the following incident indicates:

Her husband was guilty of a flagrant betrayal of their love and had

been unfaithful almost from the beginning of their marriage. The

poor girl was discussing the situation with her father-in-law who

was incensed at his son and raged against him, "If he carries on

like that he is a blackguard, a vile monster!" And the wife had no

other comment to make than, "He's a man!"

Questionable praise, we must confess, for the masculine gender!

Christian morality does not subscribe at all to such standards.

There is no double standard: one type of morality for young men

and one for young women; one for husbands and one for wives.

That man has a stronger pull toward the physical is possible; that

he may be bolder and less restricted by delicacy or timidity; that

because of his profession he must leave home frequently and

consequently have more occasion to forget his wife and as the

ugly saying goes "have his fling" is very true. But none of these

reasons justifies or authorizes his misconduct.

An author who plays up his native city in his writing does not

refrain from criticizing, and justly, those respectable men--the

seventeenth century called them persons of quality--who in their

own city enjoy an honorable reputation, figure prominently in

their parish church, entertain the clergy frequently, but the minute

they have left their city, forget their principles, take their morals

lightly, read sexy novels which they lay in store at the station if

they can do so unobserved and think nothing of sharing their hotel

room with a chance woman acquaintance.

Let us allow for the author's satire and his outlook. But is it all

false?

And when the little ragamuffin standing on the station platform

heard the woman say to her departing husband, "Take care of

yourself and don't forget me," wasn't it just the impudence of the

rascal that made him say to her smartly, "Don't fret ma'am, he just

tied a knot in his handkerchief!"

Out of sight, out of mind . . . May that never be true! Likewise may

it never be said, "Out of sight, free from duty!"

MAN'S FIDELITY

THE tolerance with which some worldly people regard the

irregularities of men is scarcely credible. That is none the less

their attitude. Everything is permissible for men. They are to be

excused because of their temperament. "Nature gets the best of

them, isn't that true? We must understand them and not be over

severe."

How refreshing it is to hear a woman repudiate such unwarranted

indulgence and condemn as should be condemned the liberties the

world accords men in the matter of marital betrayal. Isabelle

Riviere in "The Bouquet of Red Roses" gives us this satisfaction:

Agatha, the young woman in the story, picks up a volume of a

contemporary writer; in the selection "The Evening With Mr. Teste"

by Paul Valery, she came upon this opening paragraph:

"Stupidity is not my strong point. I have seen many individuals,

visited several nations, I have taken part in various enterprises

without liking them. I have eaten every day. I have gone with

women."

She blushed with indignation and showed this last sentence to her

husband.

"I find that statement more vile than the worst obscenity."

"Why, my dear?"

"Such utter disregard of fidelity! That complacent way of regarding

man alone as the center of the world, and regarding the whole

world, women included, as objects for his use, as just so many

accessories. Don't you find that disgusting?"

"Yes . . . I believe it is the negation of all truth, of all love in any

case."

Bravo! Let this vagabond Mr. Teste claim if he will that stupidity is

not his strong point. He certainly takes the prize for presumption

and cynicism.

Granted that woman is more soul than man, and he more body than

woman, more alive to the physical, that does not authorize him to

do as he pleases with the law of God and the dignity of women.

Certainly if he expects to remain faithful without taking the

necessary means, he will hold out only with great difficulty.

Watch and Pray. Here is a man who exposes himself to every risk,

who seldom if ever prays, who receives Holy Communion just at

Eastertide or at very, very great intervals. Even if he has a high

sense of honor and deep respect for woman's dignity, he will have

great difficulty keeping his soul intact. We must not separate the

demands of morality from the helps Our Lord gave us to observe

them. To conform to the laws without having recourse to the helps

is practically impossible. "Without Me," said our good Master, "You

can do nothing."

What must we conclude then from the fact that man has greater

difficulty than woman in preserving chastity? That he is free to

dispense himself from chastity? Certainly not, but that he must

pray more than his wife, practice more Christian prudence than his

wife since he is more exposed to danger than she is both by his

more vehement temperament and the occasions brought about by

his business.

A WIFE WITH CHARACTER

PEOPLE say that husbands do not like too strong a personality in

their wives. Doubtless there are some sufficiently imprudent to

prefer a simpleton or a doll, provided she is exteriorly alluring, to

a woman of real worth who may prove to be someone to cope with.

To such men, the otherwise incorrect but witty sentence might

truly be applied, "Women know well that men are not so stupid as

people believe, they are more so!"

In the history of Byzantium, an interesting incident is related.

Queen Theodora had just come into power. Her son, the prince who

would succeed her should have a wife. According to custom

messengers were sent out to bring to the palace the twelve most

beautiful girls they could find.

After the first elimination six remained from whom the future

emperor. Theophilus was to choose his wife.

Holding a golden apple in his hand the prince began his review. He

was much attracted by a certain Kasia and just for something to

say, he paid her this dubious compliment, "It is through woman

that all evil has come to us."

"Yes," retorted Kasia, "but also all good."

Frightened by such quick reply, indicative of a quick

temperament, Theophilus carried his golden apple to someone

else.

A splendid example of masculine stupidity!

Happily the time when men reasoned that way is past. Those who

are intelligent want to find in the woman they choose for their wife

a person who is a real person.

Not one of those blue-stockings justly contemned by the truly wise,

for forgetting the reserve which is the precious attribute of their

sex, posing as intellectuals, acting mannish, using language which

lacks refinement and foolishly aping masculine ways.

When women are not women, they are worse than men and they are

ridiculous besides.

Man does not desire to find a duplicate of what he is when he looks

for a companion! It is Eve that Adam desires.

But he wants an Eve who is not just a woman expert in trinkets and

in whom veneer takes the place of mental and moral virtues; he

wants an Eve who is an honest-to-goodness woman, and if possible,

one of unusual character; one who can see the world otherwise

than through the narrow dimensions of the ring she wears on her

finger and does not concentrate all her attention on her jams and

jellies or her next new outfit; a woman who thinks before all else of

her home, but precisely because she wants her home to be

attractive and she herself to be attractive in that home, seeks to

enlarge her horizons and to be truly a real person.

PRAISEWORTHY VANITY

A HUSBAND who is a man of sense as well as a good Catholic

proposes this question: Ought concern for their appearance be

something foreign to Christian wives? He answers the question

himself:

"That would be simply ridiculous. I confess that I feel thoroughly

enraged when I see women who act as if they were being very

virtuous by their slovenly appearance and poor taste in dress. First

of all, they commit a fault against beauty and grace which are

God's gifts. But their fault is graver still: Have these noble souls

taken care to consult their husbands and to assure themselves that

he approves of this treatment? Let them not be surprised then if

their husbands look elsewhere for satisfaction. Christian women

must know once for all that to dress with taste and even with

distinction is not a fault; that to use cosmetics is no fault either

unless the results are esthetically to be regretted; that adornment

as such is one of those questions of convention which is purely

accidental and remains completely foreign to the moral order.

Virtue owes it to itself to be attractive and even strongly attractive.

The only thing that must be avoided is excess. There is excess

when a Christian woman devotes all the powers of her mind to

becoming as exact a copy as possible of the models in Vogue or

Charm to the point of neglecting her duty. A woman who for love

of dress would ruin her husband, neglect her children or even

refuse to have them for fear of spoiling her figure would fail by

excess."

This viewpoint is full of wisdom; it defends right use and at the

same time condemns abuse.

One of the most ordinary vanities of women is the desire to look

young. Husbands are in sympathy with this trait especially when

years have rolled over the home. All women need do is purify their

intention so as not to offer sacrifice to vanity; they should avoid

exaggeration which makes them ridiculous.

They might just as well, for no one will be deceived except those

who are willing to be. The world is penetrating almost to the

degree of the oculist described in the book "The World As I See It":

This dignified gentleman, wise in the ways of the world, received

his patient and listened sympathetically to her symptoms, asked

the necessary questions, made his examination and gave his

verdict: "Well, it's plain, you have cataracts. It's not a disease, it's

sign of age. You told me you were forty-three: I wrote you down in

my record as being forty-seven; but you have passed the fifty

mark. Don't be disturbed by this."

If husbands have the right to demand that their wives try to keep

themselves attractive, it is clearly evident that they in turn must

do the same.

The wise advice to wives on the subject of personal appearance

which was quoted earlier was followed by this equally judicious

advice to husbands:

"They have a duty to avoid becoming absorbed completely by their

professional concerns. They ought to show themselves not only

eager to be in their wife's company but attentive, even loving, and

that, whatever be their age. There must be no false modesty or

self-consciousness here: a husband owes it to himself to merit

each day the love of his wife. Is it right for them to be willing to

make the solidity of their home rest solely on the sense of duty

they assume their wife possesses? Don't they ever fear losing her

love or do they imagine such fears to be restricted to lovers only?

Do they then want to treat their wife less considerately than they

would treat a mistress?"

Let husbands and wives in wise self-possession enjoy a happy,

beautiful, and reverent liberty.

A DIRECTOR'S COUNSELS

IN HIS book "La jeune Mariee," Leon de la Briere quotes the advice

given by a spiritual director to his penitent in the 14th century:

"You ought to be attentive and devoted to the person of your

husband. Take care of him lovingly, keep his linens clean and

orderly because that is your affair. Men should take care of the

outside business; husbands must be busy going and coming,

running here and there in rain, wind, storm, and sleet; they must

keep going dry days or rainy days; one day freezing, another day

sweltering, badly fed, badly lodged in poorly heated houses and

forced to rest in uncomfortable beds.

"But they do not mind any of this because they are comforted by

the hope that they will enjoy the care their wife will give them on

their return.

"How pleasant the thought of taking of his shoes before a cheerful

fire, of bathing, putting on clean clothes, fresh shoes and

stockings; eating well prepared meals that are properly served; of

being sheltered from the inclemencies of the weather; of being

obeyed; of retiring to sleep between fresh sheets and under warm

bed coverings; good furs.

"Remember the country proverb which says that there are three

things which drive a man from his house: "a house without a roof,

a chimney that smokes, and an argumentative wife."

"Therefore, my daughter, I urge you to be gentle, agreeable and

good-natured in order to keep in the good graces and the love of

your husband.

"Then all the while he is busy, he will have his mind and his heart

directed toward you and your loving service. He will abandon

every other house, every other woman, every other service. It will

all be as so much mud compared to you."

Some very definite virtues are needed to follow out such program:-

-a very high degree of pure intention to accomplish in a

supernatural spirit the thousand little attentions required by

human love; a deep seated charity that becomes more active and

more vital by the tender affections of the heart for the beloved; a

habit of order which has a place for everything and everything in

its place; skill in home-making, that essential feminine talent of

making a house a home, cheerful and agreeable, a warm and

pleasant nest, and the desire on the part of the wife to make as

many things as she can herself.

At the beginning of married life love alone without any special

attraction toward renunciation makes such a harmony of virtues a

possible achievement.

However, there comes a time in many homes when the spirit of

renunciation must come to the rescue of love. Not that husband

and wife no longer hold any attraction for each other, but they

know each other too well to be under any delusions regarding their

insufficiencies and they have to be able to pass over many

imperfections. It is helpful for them under such circumstances to

recall that marriage is a sacrament whose particular grace is to

help the wedded couple live their life together.

Honest observers of Christian marriage recognize this: Catholicism

has worked a great wonder, "it has succeeded in steadying the

vagabond and insatiable sexual urge, it makes long cohabitation

possible, it makes characters more supple and tempers

dispositions; through constant effort and the joy of duty

accomplished, it increases the moral worth of the individual giving

meaning thereby to life and to death; it gives to society the most

solid support upon which it can stand."

FRIENDLY ARGUMENT

JUST as bickering, sulking, and domineering opposition should be

avoided by husbands and wives, so free and friendly discussions

should be encouraged as an aid to bind their souls in a closer

union. Strife and rivalry motivated by self love is one thing, but

sane and cordial disagreement or exchange of ideas is quite

another. It is from the clash of ideas that light shines forth. And

also warmth.

Writing to a young married couple, Bishop Dupanloup said to

them:

"You were both astonished the first time I recommended argument

to you--friendly argument--and still more astonished when I

answered your statement, "we shall never argue," with the

comment "So much the worse for you!"

"The truth is that in a society so intimate, so constant as marriage,

if you do not feel free to discuss and even to engage in friendly

argument, it is evidence of constraint between you; there is

something which is preventing the free expansion of your souls.

"These little disagreements founded primarily on the affectionate

observation of your mutual failings will not alter the peace of your

home in the least; on the contrary, I believe that they will establish

in it a more profound peace and more intimate union, because

they will assure both of you of your reciprocal confidence."

Actually, as it is easy to see, the bishop was advising his spiritual

children not so much to argue as to discuss. And if one insists on

using the word "argument" it must be modified by the word

"friendly." Then let them go to it!

Saint Louis was conversing one day with Queen Marguerite. She

was complaining that the king did not have enough pomp in court

functions and that he himself did not dress with the magnificence

befitting official ceremonies. He thought, on his side, that the

queen was taking some advantage of her position and that she

gave way to excess in the richness of her dress.

"Would it really please you if I dressed more magnificently?" asked

the king.

"Yes, I so wish you would."

"Very well then, I shall do so, because the law of marriage urges

the husband to try to please his wife. But since this obligation is

reciprocal, it is only right that you should conform to my desire."

"And what is that?"

"That you get into the habit of dressing as simply as possible!"

Well done! In friendly arguments such as this, charity as well as

finesse and courtesy scores its point.

Don't think you must always be right. You ought to defend your

point of view but you should not be hostile to the opposite

viewpoint just because it's the opposite viewpoint and before you

ever begin to discuss. Two minds are better than one--unless of

course they're two negatives.

If the other person is right or it is better for the sake of peace to

pull down your flag, then give in graciously and without

bitterness.

FEMININE FAULTS

WOMAN has a lively imagination; that is an asset. It can, however,

soon become a fault; she readily builds up fanciful notions, and

because an object is pleasant and flatters her taste, she seizes

upon it as something worth having, confounding the attractive

with the good, and salves her conscience with this false sense of

value.

A critic could say with no little truth, "Every woman has three

lives--a life she endures, a life she wants, and a life she dreams

about; the first is made up of the things she does despite the fact

they do not please her, the second is made up of the things she

does because they please her and the third, of the things she

doesn't do either because she can't or because even while desiring

them she does not actually want them."

The third trait is the most interesting--this dream-life is the one

that occupies woman the most. She plots situations to suit her

fancy in which through the power of her imagination she is the

heroine. The result is that she chafes at the impossibility of

actually achieving what her imagination conceives or her

sensibilities evoke.

Man, being obliged to plunge himself into things, to lose himself

in occupations which if not more engrossing than home-tasks are

at least more evident as to their consequences and much less

conducive to meanderings of the imagination, is more given to

hard-headed realism. He is in danger of living too much in the

prosaic and of lacking verve; woman is generally not lacking in

verve, but she easily lands in the stars for riding a myth.

Further, man, unless he is born talkative--and then he is truly

obnoxious--is much less tempted to loquaciousness than woman.

Knowing better than woman how difficult it is to be informed and

being unwilling to talk unless he is informed, he is more discreet,

less discursive; woman, less impressed by the necessity of being

well-informed before speaking, begins by talking; she learns later.

Since woman's intuitions are much more rapid, she manages to

talk on almost any subject without knowing much of anything

thoroughly; it is a wonderful help to speak with ease because she

is not hampered by the difficulty of being exact.

In addition woman has greater zeal, she is more apostolic, she has

proselytizing in her blood. When Our Lord wanted to evangelize

Sichem, it was a woman he sent--the Samaritan woman. And the

work was well done; she quickly told her friends and

acquaintances--all the people of the little village--what she had

said to Jesus and what Jesus had said to her, even the admonition

He had given her "Thou hast said well, 'I have no husband,' for thou

hast had five husbands, and he whom thou now hast is not thy

husband."

The love to talk is so strong in a woman that she does not hesitate

to speak evil of herself to satisfy it.

Some cynic credits these cruel words to a child. Sympathetic

friends asked the little one what his father's last words were. He

said, "Papa did not say any last words; Mamma was with him to the

end." It is too clever to be true.

It is a well known and incontestable fact that there are many

women who possess exquisite discretion. Indeed, if men were not

also inveterate talkers, would they find so much occasion as they

do to speak unkindly of women?

THE PSYCHOLOGY OF A MOTHER

FRANCOIS MAURIAC gives us a keen analysis of a phase of

maternal psychology:

"So did our mother appear to me: a creature above all creatures . . .

It is strange to think that the most mediocre women and even the

most wicked have been in the eyes of their little boy this almost

divine being.

". . . The child must grow, withdraw from his mother; it requires

separation for him to judge this creature of whom he was born. It

is necessary for her to let this man, her son, try his luck, take

risks, love a woman and take her to himself. All that seems simple

and in keeping with the wish of nature. Yet, it is just that which

gives rise to a drama more often than one would think.

". . . The hen drives away the grown chick who persists in following

her but many women do not have that instinct. In their son they

never see the child die; and this graying man that they wait on,

that they scold, is still a little boy to them."

Further on he says:

"As we advance in life, we perceive that man in his declining years

has as much need of his mother as when he was a child. In truth,

the child in us never dies; as soon as sickness attacks us and

disarms us, the child is there again, that demanding child, who

needs spoiling, confidence, who wants to be consoled and cradled.

And that is why very often, the wife from instinct becomes a

mother again at the bedside of this sick man; she assumes for the

man whom weakness has reduced to a child the role of the mother

who is no longer there.

"Such is perhaps the greatest marvel of the feminine heart--the

intermingling of maternal and conjugal love within it, so fused

into one that there remains only this tenderness of the wife

bending over her wounded and suffering companion; this

tenderness of which poor Verlaine dreamed when he wrote these

two lines:

"How I am going to love you, beautiful little hands

Clasped for a moment, you who will close our eyes."

Coleridge has said it well:

A mother is a mother still the holiest thing alive.

Unhappily, what has contemporary society not done to "kill the

mother."

In how many places, children are said to belong to the State; they

do not even have to take the name of their parents; mothers are

merely the material producers of the living persons which the

country, the factories, and the army need. Their generative organs

are considered. Their heart, not at all!

In other places maternity is so ridiculed that to have a family,

particularly a large family, instead of being a glory, is an evidence

of simple mindedness, old-fashioned ideas, and stupidity.

Again, selfishness has been developed to such a point that while

sterility may not be directly advocated, an immoderate limitation

of births has been effected. To be tied down with children! No,

thank you!

Before the war, Mauriac justly commented:

"Everything takes place in the world as if there existed a leader of

gambling, a leader of the ball who feels that to fulfill his designs

he must first of all strike at the mother."

And these last lines have become more timely than ever:

"In the world that it will be necessary to reconstruct, effort will

have to bear upon this aim: to restore woman to her true place, to

give her back her essential mission."

COURAGEOUS MOTHERS

EVERY woman, by the fact that she becomes a mother, is

courageous, at least in regard to all that concerns her children.

She does not consider the trouble it is for her to watch at their

bedside, to take care of them, to feed them, to help them; and if

danger ever threatens them she will brave any peril to save them.

Our Lord's example of the mother hen gathering her chicks under

her wing is touching and at the same time far below the realities of

maternal psychology.

Sometimes this courage grows to unbelievable force. It is enough

to recall many instances of this during the war. Times of peace are

not without their examples. Here is one that is profoundly

beautiful:

At a certain high school located by the seashore, several students

who had gone out for an afternoon of swimming were drowned

despite the vigilance of the instructors. With which family should

the faculty begin to break the bad news? One mother whose son

had been killed in the war of 1914-1918, lost two boys in this

tragedy. She had a profound faith, a valor without equal. The

Father Superior knew her. He would begin with her.

She was admirable. Standing before the two beds, she uttered no

complaint, no reproach. The priest wanted to thank her for her

delicacy in the face of such grief.

But how was he to inform the other mothers?

I will go," she said immediately. "They will not be able to say

anything to me, for I have lost two."

When misfortune strikes someone belonging to me, do I manifest

the same serenity, the same supernatural spirit?

In the course of a pilgrimage from the North of France to Lourdes,

a poor child had to be taken off the train at Poitiers. His mother

and he were going to petition Our Lady for the cure of his malady

which was in its last stages. Mary doubtless thought it better not to

let this poor child on earth any longer. Shortly after the train left

Tours, he died. At the Poitiers station the waiting room was quickly

arranged to receive him. The mother remained near the body of

her little one while the necessary preparations were made. She was

not weeping, she held the child on her knees, she was praying.

"You would think it was Our Lady of Seven Dolors," whispered a

sympathetic onlooker. It was true. She was not upset by the going

and coming; she was absorbed in her suffering or rather she was

dominating it; there was no outburst, no sobbing; she was praying.

It was as if a halo of holiness surrounded her.

In sorrow it is not necessary to parade an impassibility which does

not belong to earth. Our Lord wept over Lazarus. But it is essential

to rise above the pain, to supernaturalize it; not to let it crush us;

to understand through our tears that God is always good, and that

if He makes us suffer, it is not to break us but to lift us up, to let

us share His Calvary, to give us the means of sharing more richly

in the Redemption.

O my God, I offer You my poor heart ravaged, bruised and aching.

Crucified Jesus, help me in my crucifixion. I unite my tears with

the Blood of Your wounds. May all serve for the good of my dear

ones, for souls, for all souls.

COURAGEOUS FATHERS

IF MOTHERS who have a profound faith can give evidence of a

courageous zeal, fathers who are animated by solid religious

principles can also offer examples of singular magnanimity.

A young Jesuit who had come from a large family was stricken with

a sudden fatal illness. Hurriedly his parents were sent for. When

they arrived their boy was already in his agony and died before

their eyes. As soon as he had gasped his last breath, the father

knelt down and leaning toward his wife asked, "If you will, dear, let

us recite the Magnificat that God called our boy to religious life

and that He took him at the age of Saint Aloysius."

Pierre Termier, the famous Christian geologist had a son. One day,

the boy who was then fourteen years old, came home from school

in gay spirits. He took the elevator to go to their apartment. There

was an accident on the way up and the boy's head was badly

crushed, causing instant death. The mother was overcome with

grief. Her husband said to her, "Believe sincerely, my poor wife,

that if God asks such a sacrifice of us, it is not for the pleasure of

making us suffer, but for the eternal happiness of our child."

In how many homes where death has come because of the war has

God been able to admire heroic resignation like this and

superhuman joys in trial!

Assuredly, the designs of Divine Providence are mysterious. Why,

why have all these young lives been snuffed out before they were

able to attain virtues or enjoy the achievements of maturity? There

is doubtless the possibility for expiation; who will ever know the

power for reparation that all these holocausts will have in the life

of a people called to offer them?

Then too there are individual reasons. How do we know what would

have become of so-and-so or such a one among the young men of

our acquaintance if they had lived? Being mortal, they have died.

Too young, no doubt. But who knows if this death in their youth

has not assured their eternity? We judge as the world judges--the

only precious thing seems to be life on earth. Really the only

precious thing is eternal happiness. Perhaps many of these

youthful dead, had they lived in our world of sin, mingling with

sin, would have lived in sin and died in sin. Is it not better, a

thousand times better that they should have fallen at twenty in a

magnificent act of generosity than to fall later at fifty or sixty with

hell facing them?

Without even mentioning hell, what do a few years more bring to

life if they must be passed--let us suppose they have been so

passed--in spiritual insignificance and moral poverty?

To leave, if leave they must, is it not better that it be in beauty and

in the exercise of heroic courage?

To be sure these noble thoughts cannot suppress the sufferings of

fathers or of mothers. But in whatever situation we may be or

whatever trial we must endure ought not faith always animate us?

God never permits evil except that good may come. That is the

truth we heard Pierre Termier recalling to his wife before the dead

body of their son. I must tell it to myself in every trial and

especially when faced with the bereavement of a dear one's early

death.

"The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away. Blessed be the name

of the Lord;" that is how saintly Job spoke. That is how I want to

speak in my turn.

A MOTHER'S ZEAL

A MARRIED woman, the mother of a family, writes:

"I do not lack zeal; it is ardent, but is it well understood? I should

like to lead all men to be good, virtuous Christians, but my

position offers me so few occasions to put my zeal to work."

Is it really true that a wife, a mother, a woman who stays at home

has so little opportunity for the apostolate?

There is first of all the good she can do her children by simply

being near them and letting the flames of divine love which she

nourishes within her soul penetrate them. Anyone who loves God

and is eager for the salvation of his brethren cannot ever hide the

inmost concern of his soul--this desire to glorify God as much as

possible and to cooperate with his best effort for the sanctification

of the world.

To practice the devotion of duty faithfully performed is not less

efficacious than a more spectacular apostolate. To manifest by

one's example that the Will of God holds first place, that caprice

counts for nothing, and that true happiness is in faithful,

generous, fervent service is an apostolate in itself.

To bear witness to a great religion before the children calls for

zeal. The mother quoted before seems aware of this. She says, "To

unfold religion to them as a vast system, which it really is, a

system which envelops nature and humanity to unite them to God,

cannot but give them a desire to know it."

So many educators and so many mothers fail miserably in this;

they teach the children a religion without breadth, a religion which

instead of delighting them repels them. That of course is the result

of their not having sufficiently profound and sufficiently broad

religious knowledge themselves. They have perhaps never read

since they left school, no longer studied religious problems; they

are satisfied to use their meager equipment into which erroneous

ideas may have slipped and as a consequence they are incapable

of answering difficulties or even imparting any enthusiasm to

those with whom they speak.

Then there is the apostolate than can be exercised at home. Many

wives regret that their husbands have not advanced farther

religiously or that they are remiss in the practice of their religion

generally because of a lack of intellectual Christian training.

Let them do all they possibly can to help their husbands and count

on God to do the rest.

"I count on my daughters," continues the woman quoted before, to

accomplish a task that I have barely begun although I believed I

was working at it. Let them pray often for their father that God may

enlighten him on the important obligations of Christianity, that the

world and its prejudices may quietly withdraw from his soul in

order to let the true light shine in it with full splendor. Charles is

good, fundamentally good; it seems to me that the uprightness of

his heart, his excellent qualities call for a more perfect

understanding of the truth. He has good will, respect for religion,

esteem for virtue but he does not have within himself all the

resources necessary. It is not his fault. God will doubtless

accomplish His work and my children will have the consolation of

seeing their father become a good and perfect Christian; it is the

desire of my soul."

And what about home-life? Is there no room for improvement? It is

difficult, generally unwise to preach. The same holds true in

regard to the circle of relatives, friends, and visitors who are often

at the home. But a beautiful testimony of the Christian Faith in

daily living will win hearts.

Is this not a very extensive field for apostolic zeal?

DOMESTIC HELP

A RECENT book on marriage is filled with splendid suggestions for

happy home-life. One of its most interesting chapters is entitled

"Those Who Help Us." It glorifies the domestic personnel, those

who despite the beautiful derivation from the ancient word prefer

now to be called the help.

It is clear first of all that their reason for existence is not that their

employers have a right to lead a lazy life because the help

dispense them from working. Those who secure help for

themselves must work as well as their servants. Since the demands

of motherhood or of education for the mother or father, or

professional duties outside the home constitute heavy obligations

which will not leave time for all the housework too, it is easy to

understand that they will call in helpers.

The ancient Latin word famuli which was used to designate the

servants who shared the life of the family, familia, strikes the right

note. Hired help should not be slaves in the service of hard and

overbearing idlers; they are an enlargement of the family for a

common task in which all hearts and all activities performed

together form but a single unit, with each person in his proper

place, but in intimate cohesion with the rest, or ought we not say,

"intimate communion" with the rest.

Thanks be to God, we can still find employers who do consider

their servants in this light and also servants whose spirit of charity

makes their task if not always easy at least always loved, servants

for whom it is an honor to serve.

In reality, masters of the house as well as hired help have the duty

to serve. The useless have no place at all in Christian society. Saint

Paul says that they who do not work have no right to eat. But the

same kind of service is not required of all. In an army, there are

those who fight on the front line, those who transport food

supplies and munitions, those who prepare the ammunition behind

the lines or spend themselves in the numberless tasks the country

needs done. All contribute to the good of the whole.

To serve in the more humble positions requires a greater virtue,

above all when this service requires subordination to those who

have authority; we will never praise those too much who accept the

employment of serving others, not with jealousy in their hearts

and only because necessity forces them, but with humility and

charity.

Those who are obliged to have domestic help ought to hold them

in high esteem. They would of course fail in their duty if they let

each one have his own way in the running of things; in domestic

society as well as in every other society, there must be authority to

be respected.

Employers must not demand tyrannically more than is fitting; they

should give sufficient recompense for the services rendered. They

need not think they have fulfilled their whole duty just because

they pay a just wage; in a family all have rights, each one

according to his position has a right to the affection of all.

Employers who are parents must insist that their children be

respectful to the help. The help should be invited to live in the

atmosphere of the home and while high moral standards must be

required of them they should be allowed liberty in their religious

life.

A family is a domestic community. The zeal of all must be aroused

for the well-being of each and in such a way that God may be

glorified to a maximum degree in this nest where the great rule is

understood to be not the code of the worldly spirit but the

peaceable demands of the Gospel.

LOVE OUT OF BOUNDS

HERE is a married individual who has not found in marriage all

that marriage seemed to promise or here is one who so far has had

perfect happiness. But one fine day there comes into the picture

the perfect creature, the dream-person--the ideal.

Oh, to be sure, there is no thought of renouncing one's home, but

one dreams of a friendship of a very special kind . . . intellectual

exchanges . . . There will be bodily separation but as high a degree

as possible of soul union. They do not wish to fall. They will not

fall. Is such a noble friendship forbidden?

A noble friendship is certainly not forbidden. But is that the case

we are considering or is it not rather a dangerous friendship of

which we speak? When beauty--let us suppose it is not just an

imaginary ideal--does not coincide with the good, can there be

anything else possible but seduction and fatal risk?

After all, have you not promised to another the entire gift of

yourself. Love does not consist only in the material gift of the

body but also and still more in the gift of the soul and of the heart.

What then does this mean? Do you think you can divide the divine

arrangement? Reserve for your marriage partner the traditional

gift of your flesh while you are withdrawing the very part that

gives honor and dignity to this tradition--your interior affection

and fidelity.

Your partner in marriage has a right to your whole being. The day

of your marriage you indicated no division; therefore you are in

contradiction to what you have promised, to what God demands

and to what your partner expects. Would either of you have

accepted the other if you thought the endurance of the bond was

based on whim and that an essential reserve was contemplated?

Does not marriage involve at one and the same time the body and

the heart. There can be no thought then of a simple material

fidelity.

Reverse the roles. The temptation which you are experiencing--

because it is a temptation and a sly temptation at that--is not

experienced by you but by your partner. What would you think of

giving in to it then? Would you be willing to accept the situation

for yourself that you are tempted to impose on your partner?

You say "we shall never go so far as to be intimate." Are you sure?

How can you guarantee that after a primary infidelity you will not

fall into a secondary infidelity? And what assurance against

surprise have you? If you boldly walk up to danger, do you believe

divine grace to be obligated to save you in spite of yourself? How

many who like you claimed to be strong and sure of themselves

have fallen! All the sins of infidelity in marriage begin like this.

Surely if at the first attack, this perverse love would reveal all its

batteries the noble soul would revolt. But it doesn't. It ingratiates

itself, slipping in decorously and gently. Patience! It will turn

sensual and you will be tricked!

Besides, suppose you do keep your senses in control, are sins of

action only to be condemned? What of sins of thought? Of desire?

Our Lord said, "that anyone who even looks with lust at a woman

has already committed adultery with her in his heart."

But you say, I shall accept only what is elevated, noble, in this

friendship. So you say. But that you will not do because it is

practically impossible. Let us just admit your hypothesis for the

sake of discussion. All right, it is true for you. Is it true for the

other person? Can you say positively that your imprudence will

not arouse in him or in her troubled thoughts and desires? You are

not an Archangel; the other person is no Seraphim. Well then? . . .

No! no! Away with lies and false reasoning! Lord, put order into my

love. Grant that I may love only according to Your law.

THE FOLLY OF LOVE OUT OF BOUNDS

I HAVE meditated on the ethics on this kind of love. Now I shall

consider a few examples of its consequences to convince myself of

the right attitude if by chance I still need convincing.

Countess Potochka relates in her memoires that during the

occupation of Poland by Napoleon she paid too much attention to

a young French officer. Her words are interesting: "Faithful to my

duties, I would not even consider the possibility of a sentiment

that I should have avoided and I contented myself with denying

the danger." How many in similar circumstances do just that!

"It seemed permissible to me," she continues, "to entertain

friendship for a man who possessed all the qualities one would

have desired in a brother." She emphasizes the next point, and it is

a current delusion: "I forgot--and this was the greatest of my

wrongs--that a young wife ought not to have any other confidant,

any other friend than her husband. But then, why did not my

husband make me remember it?"

If women can profit by meditating on the whole text, men ought to

memorize the last line of it. It is unfortunately only too true that

the infidelities of many wives have as their explanation, let us not

say excuse, an initial fault on the part of the husband. Likewise the

failings of many husbands in regard to marital fidelity have been

prepared for at least by the bungling of their wives. Some men and

some women try to justify their conduct on the basis of their

particular situation.

"We are no longer in the ordinary conditions of marriage. We live

fraternally and are consequently more free in our interior life

since we have found through experience that a union of souls

between us is not possible. . ." There is only one answer to such a

statement: Even when by mutual consent, because of a lack of

soul-union, husbands and wives live without practicing bodily

union, they still have no right to infidelity of the heart. Such

infidelity in addition to being against God's law is opposed to the

divine institution of the family.

I saw in the preceding meditation how it is against the law of God.

How is it against the divine institution of the family?

The family is a couple and not an assembly of three persons. "They

shall be two in one flesh." To yield themselves to a passionate love

outside of marriage can only augment and accentuate the distance

between the husband and wife and introduce an element of

damnable licentiousness. And if this new love does not satisfy

you, will you have recourse to a third, a fourth? Where will you

stop?

Throw away your novel and start living your duty! It is austere

perhaps, but it brings its reward with it. Never will an upright soul

find peace and happiness in a love which his conscience

condemns, which it cannot do otherwise than condemn.

The Prayer Of The Married

OF PRIME importance to the married is their prayer together--that

precious time in which the two souls united by the sacred bonds of

marriage fuse their aspirations, thoughts and desires, forgetting to

discriminate which are their own individually and present

themselves to God, each mindful of the other, offering themselves

in a unity that is continuously strengthened by a mutual love

which increases tenfold every day.

Then when God has sent newcomers to the home, there will be

prayer in common, each of the little tots and each of the older

children will join in the prayer of father and mother and all will

recommend to Our Lord the sanctification of the whole

assemblage.

If ever circumstances such as war, travels, duties of state require a

temporary and perhaps periodic separation, there will be the

prayer said at a distance by each of the two hearts torn apart by

the good-byes of parting and the prolongation of the absence--a

prayer in which each under the eye of God strives to live together

the same moment of life and pleads for the courage to continue

the trip in unison to heaven.

Nor is any of this kind of prayer prejudicial to solitary prayer;

when one of the two is engaged in the duties of his state or in

some apostolic activity, the other more drawn to prayer, can in the

silence of the soul seek to acquire from God for both of them and

for the whole family, opportune graces. Prayer at such times will

not only be prayer of petition but even more--an elevation of the

soul to God to adore Him, to keep the Good Master company. There

will be few words or specific reflections, but a gift of the heart, a

search for union through intimacy of the soul. Or when one

participates in the Liturgical prayer of the Church, there will be

union of heart with the whole Church, a warmer and more fervent

share in the Communion of Saints. The soul at the center of the

world joins in the Sanctus of the numerous Masses that are being

celebrated, and shares in the Great Prayer of Christ for the world.

There remains another form of prayer, the conjoined prayer of the

parallel union of their two lives, not through any words or special

acts, but by the consecration to God of the deeds of all their days,

the wife at home, the husband in his office, or store, or shop. "Pray

always," said Our Lord; He did not mean that we must necessarily

be always in the act of praying but in a state of prayer which

means to so act that one's whole life rises as a prayer because of

the offering made of it to God and frequently renewed. The state

of prayer is the state of elevation, the explicit or implicit gift made

to God of all the minute particles of each instant's activity.

Toward the end of his life, Saint Francis de Sales, overwhelmed by

the occupations of his ministry and the responsibilities of a large

diocese thought he was obliged to curtail somewhat his extra

prayers of devotion. "I am doing," he explained, "what is the same

thing as praying."

Mental prayer and vocal prayer are not always possible to the same

degree for all, although all must assure themselves of at least the

minimum, as the vital prayer of maintaining union with God.

PRAYER TOGETHER

IF Our Savior's words, "Where two or three are gathered together in

My Name, I am in the midst of them," apply to strangers and

persons indifferent to one another, how much more significant

they are for two beings destined to be but one heart and one soul!

No society can better draw down the graces of God through prayer

than the society of man and wife. Already united by so many

bonds, what a truly community-union does their conjoined prayer

effect!

General Reibell who was asked to write the preface to a World War

book took leave to strike this personal note: "There are two habits

to which I remained faithful during our expedition: I kept a diary

of each day's events and the reflections they aroused in me; then I

read a chapter of the New Testament and a selection from the

Imitation in the order my wife and I had agreed upon before

parting; in this way we prepared a meeting place for our intimate

thoughts across the distances which separated us. If, as happened

on rare occasions, I was obliged to neglect this double obligation

for a day or two at the most, I made up for it the following days,

bringing myself up to date both in my journal and in my reading.

When I completed the reading material I began over in the same

order as before until the end of the double set of three hundred

sixty-five days of our African campaign."

The husband in this case is the one who took the first step.

Frequently the lead in the spiritual is taken by the wife. Often

husbands are grieved to the depths of their being because they see

that their wives do not draw the family to God.

Whether the husband or the wife takes the initiative matters not so

much; what does matter is that a Christian family should advance

spiritually to the degree of performing together the essential acts

of religion.

There will be times when real necessity obliges husband and wife

to fulfill certain religious exercises separately; for example, if the

wife is nearing the time of her delivery or has just given birth to a

child, or if for domestic reasons they must attend different Masses

so that someone can be home to take care of the personnel or

watch the children . . .

Aside from such cases, it is desirable that they should perform as

many of their spiritual duties as they possibly can together; theirs

is to be an association. Let them pray together beside their bed,

exchange intimate thoughts after an inspiring and spiritual

reading done together, say grace before and after meals together

and so on through the other opportunities for prayer in their life.

One of the two may have a greater taste for prayer than the other

and there is no reason why it should not be satisfied, no reason

why the claims of grace and the attractions of the soul should not

be followed after the spiritual exercises which should be done

together have been fulfilled; duty of state must always come first,

must be safeguarded.

In this way independence of soul is assured along with close

cooperation, in a worship by two with souls united.

PRAYER FOR EACH OTHER

A FATHER and a mother willingly pray for a son in danger, a sick

daughter, a child in distress. But not so frequently do husbands

and wives pray for each other. Yet that would be the way they

could most easily obtain the graces necessary to achieve their

common desires and fulfill their common mission.

How beautiful it would be if, during their evening prayer together,

there could be a pause such as the one for the examination of

conscience during which time each would pray silently for the

other, recommending to God all the other's intentions sensed,

guessed, and known as well as those that only God the Master of

consciences could know.

Even more beautiful would it be if they would receive Holy

Communion together frequently so that each of them could speak

more intimately to Our Lord about the needs of the other, begging

not only temporal but spiritual favors for this cherished soul.

Cana Conferences are becoming more widespread. Here both

husband and wife listen to the same discourses, make the same

meditations and are called upon to form the same resolutions.

They are not expected to make their retreat as two married

celibates but as a couple together, to be sanctified conjointly.

They will in their Cana Conferences experience at times no doubt a

little sly joy,--quite pardonable to be sure,--at hearing the very

things they have been trying to convince their partner of, stressed

energetically by a qualified speaker and with every chance of

being effective since at such times the soul is more receptive.

They both become compromised in the eyes of the other; neither

has any excuse in the future for going off on a tangent.

A further advantage of Cana Conferences is that the couple can

more easily advance in holiness if their striving after it is

synchronized. In many homes, the wife can manage to slip away

for an annual retreat which has become habitual for her while the

husband according to his reasoning can never find the time for

these periods of recollection. As a consequence there is a sort of

spiritual cleavage between them. They do not advance equally

with the consequent danger that to one the piety of the other may

seem too rigid or too absorbing.

Let the wife, have, if she will, her additional practices of devotion

to supplement the couple's united prayers; if she is intelligently

pious they can only serve for the good of the home. But it remains

true that her efforts ought to be directed less to surpassing her

husband in spiritual exercises than to elevating his spirituality to

the heights of her own, assuming that hers is perfectly balanced,

warm and vibrant.

Certain timidities must be overcome. At the beginning of married

life, the husband will accept everything from his wife. He expects

her to surpass him spiritually and above all he expects her to draw

him forward. Let her then use her power prudently, intelligently,

delicately in virtue of her love. Let her not be motivated by the

desire to count her fine successes but to spiritualize her home.

Her husband can only be grateful for it. He will welcome her

influence, profit by it, follow it.

MARRIAGE AND A LIFE OF PRAYER

IT IS a mistake to think that only priests or religious can attain to a

life of profound payer.

A religious priest, the biographer of a young girl of the world who

had been an example of magnificent fidelity and the recipient of

singular graces from God, recounts that one of the theologians

who examined the book expressed great admiration for the young

girl. "People believe," he said, "that the great graces of

contemplation are scarcely ever found in the midst of the world. I

have found in cloisters and monasteries and among the clergy,

souls who have received astonishing graces of light and of ease in

prayer. I can therefore speak from experience. However, the two

souls who seemed to me to be the most favored were neither

priests nor nuns but two persons living in the world, two mothers

of families." He added, "They were far from being complacent

about the favors they received; they believed them to be quite

natural and never dreamed that they themselves were singularly

privileged."

And all that while living in the world as married women!

Then we have the example of a doctor, an excellent practitioner in

a large city, much in demand because of his great skill and

superior knowledge. Note his deep life of prayer as revealed from

the following quotations from some of his letters:

"I recollect myself in the course of my professional visits, going

from one duty to another, those duties which present themselves

to me so clearly as acts of charity to my neighbor in whom I have

the impression of ministering to the suffering Christ.

"In the interval which separates one act of charity from another,

there spontaneously wells up in my heart irresistible movements

of adoration, a necessary worship of praise, a humble and self-

abasing offering of my impotence, a very real pain at being

separated from the Well-Beloved of my soul, and, in the midst of it

all, a consoling peace and a strong leaning on God who lifts me

above depressing physical fatigue and wearing privation."

Another time he wrote:

"The sight of souls so little concerned about God causes me pain

and heartache. I should like to see all creatures praise God,

concern themselves solely with Him and refer all to Him. I have

great difficulty lending myself to the thousand little things of

here-below which have no direct connection with God."

This interior union with God in no way hindered his exterior

ministry. With what soul power did he accomplish it!

"In the midst of overwhelming activities, an impression of

profound solitude enfolds my soul. Action is no longer anything

more for me than the accomplishment of duty, for the only duty of

my life, leaving out of the picture any consideration of this

frightful I and accomplishing everything for a single purpose

always present, always engulfing me--God.

"One might say that there is substituted for the egoism which is

proper to me a power which is foreign to me but which draws me

on while exercising over my will a force which impels and which is

ever new."

In his last letter dated August, 1936, we have these thoughts.

"It has pleased God (I should never think of asking Him for it) to

grant me six months of immobilization because of a cardiac

lesion. A Garden of Gethsemani? Amen.

"I was formerly taught what adoration and thanksgiving mean. Now

I am immersed in adoration and thanksgiving. I have been taught

that we fulfill the highest apostolate in the place where God for all

eternity wants us to be. Therefore, I say three times over Amen and

Thank You, my God."

CHOICE GRACES

PERHAPS on reading the beautiful selections from the doctor's

letters I have somewhat envied his union with God. Perhaps there

arose in my mind the question: "What would I have to do to

achieve such close intimacy with God?"

First of all, I must remember that such a degree of union with God

is in the domain of gratuitous gifts. Our Lord gives them or does

not give them as He sees fit. That is His own concern. In

themselves, these gifts are no forecast of sanctity in the person

who receives them. Someone can be quite perfect and never

receive these favors; a person can be most faithful and attentive

but either because of special difficulties of temperament or of

capacity or because of God's permission he will never receive like

gifts.

By the very fact that they are gratuitous, they are inherently out of

proportion with human efforts. They are liberalities of God that we

are powerless to merit in the formal sense of the term. I am

walking along the boulevard; I meet several poor persons along the

way; I give something to the second not to the first, to the fifth and

not to the fourth. To none of them do I owe a thing. I have

bestowed a favor pure and simple and no one can lay claim to my

bounty as his due.

So too with the special favors we are considering. They manifest

the munificence of God and do not prove the holiness of the

recipient.

It is evident though that if God is free to bestow extraordinary

graces according to His own will, in general, He dispenses them to

those who by their generosity have given assurance beforehand

that these favors will fall on good ground. If by right they are

purely gratuitous, in fact they most often recompense a generosity

that is particularly ardent, a devotedness and a striving that has

been heroically maintained.

In practice, I should let God play His hand. He is well-versed in

what He is doing. I should not presume to dictate to Him the

method He should follow. I can play my hand too. His very own

specialty is liberality; mine should be generous love. I ought to be

bent on giving, not on receiving.

If in the course of my life of striving, God is pleased to give me a

keener relish of Him, an understanding of Him beyond my

knowledge of His perfections, a love for prayer and for sacrifices

He will have free sway in me. I shall praise Him with my whole

soul; but it is not to win these favors that I intend to push my

fervor to its peak.

If, on the contrary, He lets me on the level of common prayer and

the ordinary state of the general run of people; if He even

abandons me to a spell of aridity--a common trial of earth--either

for periods of time or perhaps permanently, I shall cast myself

upon His love and beg Him to insure my faith in Him and to

preserve my fidelity. I know what I am worth--not very much.

The soldier ought to serve. If his Captain notices him and puts him

on the list for the Legion of Honor, fine! A red ribbon, however,

adds nothing to the value of a man. He is worth what he gives and

not what he receives.

I shall strive to give much.