Chapter LXXVII: What Intimacies to Form

BE careful what acquaintances you make.

There are many young men of pleasing appearance, but who are demons in heart. Keep a guard, then, that you do not allow your feelings to get too much interested before you have time to make some kind of a judgment whether to allow an intimacy to be formed.

If you discover a heart filled with bad and impious principles, one that is a proud scoffer at religion or seems destitute of religious principles, i. e., an infidel, whether he goes by the name of Catholic or not, avoid such a one.

There are plenty of such, real infidels at heart. They smooth it over when they want to marry some Catholic girl, who would be shocked at a plain open avowal of their sentiments, and when the marriage is over they conceal it no longer, but take delight in ridiculing religion; in destroying the faith and love of their wives; and if they have families, in ruining their immortal souls.

Now, these girls who marry such men, and who pay for it by the bitterest tears, perhaps for their whole lifetime, had they only exercised the slightest prudence, had they prayed to God and not been blinded by their own silly and unreasonable passion, would have noticed enough in their manners and conversation to have put them on their guard, and they would have sooner cut off their right hand than to have united their fate for life and death with them.

Says St. Paul: “Bear not the yoke together with unbelievers. For what participation hath justice with injustice? Or what fellowship hath light with darkness? And what agreement hath Christ with Belial?”—i. e., the devil.

Again: If you discover a want of moral principle, that the person is the slave of any grievous sin, be on your guard, think not to take such a person as your partner for life. If the young man drinks freely and gets intoxicated, and there is a real danger that he will turn out a drunkard, for God’s sake, and your own soul’s, form no intimacy with such a one. What are you going to marry for? A quiet, peaceful home, and the opportunity of furthering your salvation.

The drunkard’s home you well know is a picture of hell on earth, with its everlasting strife, disorder, burning passions, and hatred. Is that the school in which you expect to learn the way of salvation?

I speak of this sin of drunkenness because it is the bitter root from which all kinds of vices and horrors may be expected to grow. There is no need of giving examples.

If you live in the city, go into the next street, or if in the country, go a short distance in your neighborhood, and you can find examples enough. Who is that bloated, coarse-looking woman who has not, apparently, combed her hair for a week, with a lot of ragged children bawling and fighting and cursing around her in her miserable, dirty hovel? That was, a few years ago, a pretty, modest girl, who was innocent and light-hearted, earning an easy living in a quiet, pleasant family, and attending to her duties regularly and with great delight to her soul.

She has not been to Mass for nearly a year, and cannot go, she says, “because her husband puts her about so.” She wishes she was dead and gone, for her life is a burden to her.

And it was all her own fault. She knew enough about him when he was paying her attentions to put her on her guard. When he came to see her she smelled liquor in his breath repeatedly. Sometimes he showed quite plainly that he was under its influence, but she shut her eyes. “Oh!” she said, “I don’t believe it is as bad as it looks.” She did believe it, however, but she would not acknowledge it, for she had made up her mind to marry him.

Then friends came to warn her: “Don’t you know that young man is a drunkard? It is quite certain, and everybody knows it. You will rue the day you take him for a husband.” She got obstinate, forgot God and even her own plain good sense and reason, and was determined to take him at any rate, even if she should lose her soul in consequence.

Ah, poor woman! I am afraid it will come to that, for your life is sinful, and there is little probability of its ever being changed for the better. Such examples speak a loud warning to you to teach you to avoid the misery of marrying a drunkard.

In the same way, if you discover any other confirmed vice, such as dishonesty, or impurity, do not let your acquaintance run on to an intimacy; do not let yourself get entangled, or think for a moment of marriage with such a one.