CHAPTER XXII.

SAME SUBJECT CONTINUED.

To the rule given in the foregoing chapter may be added another of

equal importance in the selection of suitable books to read.

Generally speaking, all books that draw too much on the imagination

may be considered as dangerous. You are well aware, and it has been

frequently said, in the course of this little book, that the

imagination is precious and useful when regulated with discretion,

and directed with prudence; but the moment that it is allowed to

assume a preponderance which does not belong to it, it becomes

noxious to our spiritual and temporal welfare. Moreover, it is united

to the senses by the most intimate ties, through which it receives

impressions and images that keep it in constant activity; we should

constantly labor to check, rather than to encourage its development;

while we should spare neither pains nor diligence to develop the

intelligence which, when left in ignorance of truths that could

enlighten and elevate it, becomes the victim of cruel doubt,

idleness, effeminacy and pleasure.

There are books said to be useless, and consequently harmless, but

the conclusion, without being false, is not just; for we have just as

much reason to believe they are dangerous as to admit the contrary.

Now, if a book is indeed useless you cannot bear to read it, and

since you do read it, it must certainly contain something interesting

which renders it agreeable to you; it pleases some faculty of your

soul, some habitual thought of your mind, some predominating

disposition of your heart.

That a book may be read without profit is quite true. But that the

same book can be read without danger of sustaining some loss is

evidently false, unless that it be maintained that we are justified

in having no proposed end for our actions; or that we may act solely

for pastime which is diametrically opposed to the end for which we

were created: Our time is too precious to be used indifferently.

Again if there is in life anything that may be read or omitted

without losing some advantage, or committing some evil, it is

certainly not a book, for it always contains either some facts or

some pictures, or some maxims capable of making an impression on your

mind and heart.

The intelligence is formed and developed by means of language, and

language, considered from this point of view, furnishes us with no

idle words. Hence a useless book is, in the true acceptation of the

term, a book that amuses the imagination and the heart. Now, whatever

the soul receives through these channels must be of some importance

for good or evil. Hence we are not justified, on the plea of

indifference to accept any book that falls under our hands without

being thoroughly examined and competently recommended.

Here, of course, a new difficulty occurs: at your age, and with your

experience, you are unable to judge what books you should read; you

are therefore obliged to follow the advice of others in the matter,

but not the advice of all indiscriminately, as all are not competent

to direct you in a matter of such grave importance. Popularity will

give a wide circulation to a book bat can by no means recommend it;

hence public opinion is not a rule that will guarantee you against

deception.

Those in whom you place entire confidence to choose a book for you

should themselves be recommended by their sincere and generous piety,

the dignity of their life, the solidity of their judgment,

strengthened by an extensive knowledge of men and things. Above all

things be on your guard against the books recommended by worldly

women, lovers of pleasure and parties; those whose light and

frivolous minds sicken at serious thoughts, who are on their guard

lest they may do too much for God, and who vainly endeavor to

reconcile, in a monstrous union, the maxims of the world with those

of the Gospel, the seductions of pleasure with the austerities of

virtue, desiring to serve God and mammon.

If, by some negligence, or even in good faith; you open one of those

books against which you have been warned, shut it the moment you feel

your imagination excited by the images it offers, or when you

perceive that the mind's curiosity becomes aroused to its agreeable

narration of incidents, for it is almost always an unfavorable sign

of a book that produces those and similar effects. Such is not the

manner in which truth and virtue affect us. Their action is milder

and calmer, and has the heart and will, rather than the imagination

for its object. Hence, be on your guard, lest by some indiscretion

you allow a poison to enter your soul, which is never more dangerous

than when it seems least to be feared.

Finally, to resume in a few words, all that we have considered on

the subject: If you would place the moral merit of a book beyond

question, ask yourself if you would like to have its author for your

spiritual director; do not think that this precaution is exaggerated

or uncalled for; for between the author of a book and the reader

there are relations established so intimate that they beget a kind of

intellectual paternity, which produces deeper and more durable

effects than you may be aware of.

To express the influence that our actions exercise over our life and

over our fate, man is said to be the son of his works. For similar

reason, it may be said of him, but more especially of woman, that he

is the son of his readings, for reading forms such an important

factor in the formation of the heart and mind that it often modifies

our whole being. Besides, if you wish to profit by your reading, read

only a few books, but read them well, with close attention,

reflecting long and often on what you have read, identifying your

very thoughts and sentiments with the subject matter of their pages.

But let all this have its practical utility, let all those advantages

find a living expression in your language, in your actions, and in

your whole life.

END.

Serious Hours of a Young Lady · 第 22 / 22 章