CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 BEQUEST. 
 
 OF 
 
 STEWART HENRY BURNHAM 
 1943 
 
Cornell University Library 
 
 arV1S411 
 
 Dangers of the day. 
 
 3 1924 031 234 689 
 
 olin.anx 
 
 )mm^ 
 
 :j3^ 
 
The original of tliis bool< is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924031234689 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
®tber XKttorfts bi? tbe IRt. IRev. 
 3obn S. IDaugban 
 
 THOUGHTS FOR ALL TIMES. Pp. 
 xx+416. 
 
 "It needs only to be known to have Its merits appre- 
 ciated."— H. B. Card. Gibbons. 
 
 "Clear and well-written expositions, rich In Illustrations, 
 and adorned in places with beautiful and sublime lan- 
 guage. "—Wifteiaii Review. 
 
 FAITH AND FOLLY. 500 pages. 
 
 " It Is a work to be reckoned with, and will be found to 
 be full of Ideas of the greatest use. In dealing with many 
 modem problems." — Church Review. 
 
 " We feel sure that there are few to whom Monsignor 
 Vau^han's thoughtful and lucid pages will not be a source 
 of profit as well as of pleasure."— fluWyn Review. 
 
 CONCERNING THE HOLY BIBLE. 
 Pp. xvi4-269. 
 
 "We have nothing but praise for this excellent volume." 
 — The Ave Maria. 
 
 " The reasoning Is clear and convincing, the Illustra- 
 tions apt and felicitous, and the language lucid and pre- 
 cise. — H. B. Card. Logae. 
 
 EARTH TO HEAVEN. Second edition; 
 pp. xiv-|-184. 
 
 " From an artistic point of view. Monslgnor Vaughan's 
 writing Is Intrinsically of great merit. . . . Better even than 
 their beauty is their suggestiveness " — Tbe Tablet. 
 
 " Eloquent and earnest, Monslgnor Vaughan has a 
 message to the times, to which the times would do well to 
 give heed." — The Gentleman's Journal. 
 
 LIFE AFTER DEATH; or, Eoason and 
 Revelation on the Immortality of the 
 Soul. A Popular Treatise. 
 
 "An eminently useful book." — Downside Review. 
 
 " This work can not but exercise a pleasing charm over 
 the reader, and serve to hold his attention spellbound 
 throughout."— Catio/i'c Times. 
 
 HOW I CAME TO DO IT: or, The 
 Celibacy of the Clergy. By the Rev. J. 
 Blaokswhite. Edited by Dr. Vaughan. 
 
angers? of tfje Bap 
 
 With an Introduction by 
 Mgr. Canon Moyes 
 
 ?Ibe Hve /iftaria ^xza 
 
 Notre Dame, Indiana. U. S. A. 
 
 1909 
 
/\7f^~t^^ 
 
 COPVRieHT, 1909, 
 
 By D. E. HUDSON, C. S. C. 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 Introduction - . - 
 
 I. — Our Environment - 1 
 
 IL— The Encroachments of the World 27 
 
 II!. — Calling Good Evil, and Evil Good 57 
 
 IV. — TTie Inordinate Love of Money - 83 
 
 V. — Indiscriminate Reading - 112 
 
 VI.— Knowledge that " Puffeth up " 1 44 
 
 VII. — Intemperance - 1 73 
 
 VIII. — Impurity, the Sovereign Seduction 203 
 
 Laus Deo Semper! 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 By MoNSiG. James Canon Moves, D. D. 
 
 THE eight chapters of this book are as 
 so many danger-signals pointing to the 
 perils which surround us in the life of to- 
 day. We shall act wisely if we profit by 
 their warning, and take care not to be 
 misled by the over-confident frame of mind 
 by which we are sometimes silly enough to 
 imagine that we can escape a danger simply 
 by ignoring it. 
 
 There is, if I remember right, in the West 
 of Ireland, a hunt, the members of which 
 have for years ridden straight over a diffi- 
 cult country in the spirit of their charac- 
 teristic motto, "Where there is no fear there 
 is no danger." No doubt there is a measure 
 of wisdom and truth in their gallant device, 
 and all will appreciate the ideal of bravery 
 which inspires it. The motto does not hold 
 good in the spiritual life. There, on the 
 contrary, it would be far more true to say 
 that " Where there is no fear, there is every 
 
U INTRODUCTION 
 
 danger." That is due to the fact that in 
 the spiritual domain, a higher order of 
 courage is required; and that which is 
 needed is not the reckless courage which 
 closes the eyes to the danger in our path, 
 but the calm, open-eyed courage which 
 realizes it; and, in doing so, knows how to 
 measure and surmount it. It is not the 
 feeling of fear, but the yielding to it, that 
 makes the coward. Nor is it the mere 
 absence of fear, but the subduing of it, 
 which makes the brave man. 
 
 A certain writer describes how artillery 
 mules, having brought their pieces into 
 action, are often found to graze quietly on 
 the turf, concerned only in whisking away 
 the flies with their tails, while shot and 
 shell are ploughing furrows in the ground 
 all around them. The mule is not brave, 
 but merely danger-blind. A man may be 
 found who, without any motive to com- 
 pensate the risk, will balance himself on 
 the edge of a precipice, or pirouette upon 
 the summit of a chimney-stack. The man 
 is not brave: he is merely stupid. 
 
 In moments of self-examination, when the 
 light is more fully turned on, we may 
 discover that there is a fair measure of 
 
INTRODUCTION iii 
 
 mulishness and foolishness in the way in 
 which we deal with temptations, or occa- 
 sions, or habits of sin, or other sources of 
 grave spiritual peril. We allow ourselves 
 to become fretful over the flies which 
 disturb our comfort, when danger of death 
 and eternal destruction is terribly close 
 to us. We walk on the brink of the 
 precipice, and try to find a mock security in 
 turning away our eyes, and in seeking to 
 forget the depth of the abyss which yawns 
 beneath us. Such forgetfulness in neither 
 brave nor rational. Far from lessening, 
 it adds to the risk that we are running. 
 As we prayerfully read over the chapters 
 of this book, may God shed upon its pages 
 those graces of light in which we may see 
 our own particular danger, and learn to 
 be brave in avoiding it! For, in saving 
 our souls, we need all the courage which 
 looks the facts in the face, and, above all, 
 the facts which endanger our salvation. 
 
 We have, each of us, only one soul to 
 save, and only one short span of life in 
 which to save it, and our weal for all 
 eternity hangs upon our success. Let us 
 but once enter inside the gates of our 
 heavenly home, and we are safe with God, 
 
IV INTRODUCTION 
 
 and safe forever; and we shall have end- 
 less ages of happiness in which to enjoy 
 our rapturous security. Between now and 
 then, the passage is brief, and we can not 
 afford to forget that it is beset with very 
 real dangers. There are dangers, as the 
 Holy Spirit reminds us (I. Peter, v, 8), 
 from the side of the Evil One, whose 
 triumph over a soul is never more clever 
 and complete than when he beguiles it into 
 denying his action or existence. There are 
 dangers from within us, and from the 
 sad poltroonery of our indolence or self- 
 indulgence. There are dangers, subtle and 
 insidious, from the reaction upon our souls 
 of the spirit of the world around us. The 
 world, that "can not receive Christ," is 
 always with us. The multitude who live 
 only or mostly for this world, and who in 
 practice quietly put God in the second 
 place whenever their interest or pleasure 
 requires it, are neither silent nor unin- 
 fluential. They are at all times busy, 
 either in pitiful excuse for themselves, or 
 in seduction of others; breathing forth 
 their corrupt "wisdom," which, as St. 
 Paul told the most worldly-wise nation of 
 his day (I, Cor., i, 25), is foolishness in 
 
INTRODUCTION V 
 
 the eyes of God. In doing so they create 
 a vitiated atmosphere of thought and 
 feeUng, which is both poisonous and 
 relaxing to all who breathe it. 
 
 The true worldling is always a weakling, 
 in the measure in which he capitulates to 
 allurements which he has not the courage 
 to forego. Men who have grown weary of 
 the work of raising their lives to the level 
 of their conscience, weaken and find a sort 
 of self -justification in dragging down their 
 conscience to the level of their lives. 
 They are even proud of not being hypo- 
 crites at the very moment when they have 
 shirked the struggle with temptation, and 
 laid down their arms, and are using the 
 veil of non-hypocrisy to cover their retreat 
 from the fight, and their love of the ease 
 of non-resistance. They may not — for, 
 after all, they are men — reach the lowest 
 stage of all spiritual meanness, which seeks 
 to throw the blame upon God, because He 
 gave them the free-will which is the very 
 crown and sovereignty of their rational 
 dignity, and the nature which they have 
 been too selfish to control; but the voice 
 of the world, the whispers of surrender, 
 and of apologies for surrender, ever pro- 
 
VI INTRODUCTION 
 
 ceeding from wills that are yielding 
 in the struggle and the stress, swell into 
 a pitiable concert of cowardice, and become 
 an element of danger and discouragement 
 to all who are fighting the battle of the 
 Lord. 
 
 Against all such dangers, whether within 
 or without our strength, all-sufficing and 
 invincible is Christ, who Himself fights 
 and triumphs in our combats, whose lumi- 
 nous teaching we receive in His Church 
 as voiced by His Vicar, and whose life 
 we share in the Adorable Sacrament of the 
 Altar. And in Christ, and through Him, 
 we are already fellow-citizens of the blessed, 
 and are heirs to the loving patronage, 
 protection and prayers of the Mother of 
 God and the angels and the saints. If, 
 then, the dangers are great, the security 
 is greater — the encircling arms of Christ 
 in the power and strength and the solace 
 and the gladness of the Church of God. 
 
 Westminster Cathedral 
 clbroy house 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY. 
 I. 
 
 Our Environment. 
 
 The materials of human virtue are everywhere abun- 
 dant, as the light of the sun; raw materials. O woe 
 that they so seldom are elaborated and built into a 
 result! that they lie yet unelaborated, and stagnant in 
 the soiils of widespread, dreary millions, fermenting, 
 festering; and issue at last as energetic vice instead 
 of strong, practical virtue.' — Thomas Carlyle. "Latter- 
 Day Pamphlets," p. 55. 
 
 jOW swiftly ebbs the tide of 
 life's dark sea! Like racing 
 waves, its months and weeks 
 flow by, till soon our course is 
 run. Yet few will pause to 
 weigh and measure life's responsibilities, 
 or to ask themselves the reason why God 
 doles out to them His precious gifts of 
 years and months and days. They scarcely 
 seem to realize that these are talents 
 with which we have to trade until He 
 comes. We are not here to rest inactive 
 and inert, still less to dissipate our time 
 in mirth and idle rioting. No : we live that 
 we may learn the lessons that life teaches, 
 and school ourselves to conquer nature's 
 fitful moods, to check unruly passions, 
 and to control our rebellious appetites. 
 
2 DANGERS OF THB DAY 
 
 The world is a school; and we are 
 pupils, either apt or slow to profit by its 
 teaching. Some gather fast the fruits 
 of Wisdom's tree; while many scarcely 
 recognize their sterling worth, but pluck 
 the poisoned berries from some upas tree 
 instead. We, at least, will not be so 
 foolish, but, ere earth's short day has 
 sped, we will arouse ourselves, and open 
 our ears to duty's call, and learn to 
 tread the narrow path of self-denial that 
 leads over stony ways, upward and on- 
 ward, to Eternity's golden gates and 
 Heaven's sapphire floor. 
 
 One thing is certain. If we are placed 
 in this world, as God has said, expressly 
 to be tested and tried, even as gold in the 
 furnace's fiery flame, we can not expect 
 a tame and smooth career, but rather 
 one of struggle, strife and war, in which 
 our virtues are put upon their trial, and 
 all that is best in us is drawn forth and 
 made to assert its power. 
 
 It is impossible to screen ourselves 
 from every onslaught, nor can we plead 
 neutrality and decline to draw our sword. 
 To fold our arms and sit as idle spec- 
 tators amidst a world of strife, is only to 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY J 
 
 invite disaster, and to fall ignominiously — 
 perhaps mortally wounded — on the field 
 of battle. "Man's life on earth is a 
 warfare," says the Holy Spirit of God, — 
 a warfare between right and wrong, good 
 and evil, duty and inclination. Whosoever 
 conquers not, must himself be conquered; 
 who wins not, loses; who fights not, 
 perishes. Then let us make ready and 
 gird our armor on, and keep our weapons 
 bright. 
 
 Though it is quite impossible to point 
 out the numberless dangers that beset 
 us on every side, and the endless pitfalls 
 that threaten our safety day by day, we 
 may, at least, call attention to some of the 
 most general and seductive. To do so 
 will be no uncertain gain; for an enemy 
 that is recognized as such, and whose 
 tactics are laid bare, is stripped of half 
 his power to harm. 
 
 Let us, then, look around us and 
 endeavor to discover some of the chief 
 sources of spiritual danger. Most probably 
 the first danger to reveal itself to 
 the vigilant eye of the cautious observer 
 will be our very environment. Our 
 lot is cast in a non-Catholic country; 
 
4 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 we are constantly moving among Protes- 
 tants, Jews, agnostics, unbelievers. We 
 frequent their assemblies; we share in 
 their amusements; we visit their houses; 
 we correspond and transact business 
 with them; we interchange courtesies, — 
 in fact, we live on terms of familiarity 
 with all sorts and conditions of men, 
 and are glad to number them among 
 our friends, associates, and companions. 
 
 I am not saying that we are to blame 
 for this, or that we are doing anything 
 wrong in itself. Far from it; I am merely 
 stating a simple fact. I am describing 
 the nature of the social atmosphere in 
 which we live and move and have our 
 being. Then, in addition to the people 
 of England and America, the press 
 of those countries is also Protestant 
 and heretical, where it is not actually 
 infidel. The countless books and reviews, 
 and the papers and magazines, and the 
 ephemeral literature of all kinds that 
 load our tables and fill our Ubraries and 
 sitting-rooms, are, for the most part, 
 decidedly non-Catholic in their tone and 
 sentiment. Indeed, it were to be wished 
 that they were never anything worse. But, 
 
DANGERS OK THB DAY 5 
 
 alas! much of our literature is not merely 
 non-Catholic, but often violently and 
 aggressively anii - Catholic, — the output 
 of authors whose one ambition seems to 
 be to vilify, calumniate, and misrepresent 
 the spirit and doctrines of the Church. 
 
 And as we mix with the world and 
 lead our daily life, we hear expressed 
 and advanced, often with much skill, 
 eloquence, and plausibility, opinions 
 and theories which are not of God 
 but of men, and often of evil-minded and 
 wholly misguided men. They may sound 
 clever and wise, but it is far too often 
 that seductive cleverness and "wisdom of 
 the world," which, as the Apostle is careful 
 to warn us, is downright " folly in the eyes 
 of God." 
 
 Thus we find that the whole moral and 
 intellectual atmosphere in which we 
 habitually dwell, and which we — though, 
 it may be, quite unconsciously — draw 
 in with every breath, is a vitiated atmos- 
 phere, — an atmosphere heavily charged 
 with the poisonous exhalations and nox- 
 ious vapors of every variety of heresy 
 and infidehty, and erroneous opinion 
 both old and new. What is the result? 
 
6 DANGERS OK THE DAY 
 
 Well! The result, unless we are careful, 
 is sure to be detrimental to the purity 
 and vivacity of our faith. 
 
 It is the teaching of scientific men 
 that there is an inherent tendency on 
 the part of every organism, and on the 
 part of every living being, to adapt 
 itself to its environment. A general law 
 runs through nature, in virtue of which 
 every creature capable of modification 
 will, little by little, be influenced and 
 affected by the medium in which it lives, 
 and by the conditions of its surroundings. 
 Thus, for example, fish and other aquatic 
 creatures living in deep pools, at the 
 bottom of dark caves, where the light 
 of the sun never, or scarcely ever, pene- 
 trates, become influenced by the all- 
 pervading gloom around them. They 
 slowly adapt themselves to their unhappy 
 condition, become gradually blind, and in 
 a few generations are without any service- 
 able organs of sight. The darkness, amid 
 which their lives are passed, robs them, at 
 last, of even the power of seeing. 
 
 Now, the danger we have especially to 
 guard against is just that of adapting 
 ourselves too readily to our present 
 
DANOBRS OF THK DAY 7 
 
 vitiated and irreligious environment. This 
 evil tendency will exist in spite of us. As 
 a tendency, we can not exclude it. But, 
 since we possess free will, and are not 
 acted on as irresponsive and irresponsible 
 agents, we possess the power to resist and 
 overcome this tendency, provided always 
 that we recognize and are fully sensible 
 both of its existence and of its danger. 
 
 We Catholics form but a small minorit)' 
 in the country: in England, scarcely one 
 in twenty; and even in the United States, 
 not more than one in a half dozen. As a, 
 consequence, we are running a risk, v/hich 
 will be greater or less according to our 
 individual character and training, of 
 sinking to the religious level of our sur- 
 roundings. This process of deterioration 
 may be noticed in many individuals. 
 We note that little by little they grow lax 
 in their religious life and practice, and 
 less sensitive to the sinfulness of heresy. 
 They become indulgent, even to the extent 
 of compromising the Church herself; and 
 seek, by very questionable means and very 
 lax views, to win for themselves, among 
 their Protestant friends, an easy reputation 
 for broad-mindedness and liberality; and 
 
8 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 soon cease altogether to entertain that 
 healthy and hearty detestation of all heresy 
 which has ever characterized the saints, 
 who, ^vhile they loved the heretic, loathed 
 and abominated his errors.* As a tendency, 
 this disposition to minimize can hardly be 
 eliminated; but the fact serves only to 
 impress us more deeply with the conviction 
 that our duty is to open our eyes to the 
 danger, to struggle against it, and by care 
 and watchfulness to counteract the efifects 
 of our surroundings upon the general trend 
 of our thoughts and conduct. 
 
 Until we candidly admit to ourselves that 
 it is a real danger, we shall never success- 
 fully fight against it. I will illustrate my 
 contention by means of an example. We 
 have all had experience of the silent yet 
 ceaseless action that the moisture-laden 
 atmosphere has upon certain metals. 
 
 Take a bright sharp blade of glittering 
 steel, brilliantly polished and highly tem- 
 pered. Expose it for a period to the air. 
 In an incredibly short time its appearance 
 
 * Pius X. has condemned that tolerance, taueht and 
 practised especially by the neocritical school, * 'which 
 preaches a charity that is v/ithout faith, and which, while 
 dealing very gently with unbelief, opens, alas/ to all the 
 road io eier-nal ruin." (Dec., 1904.) 
 
DANGBRS OF TUB DAY 9 
 
 becomes wholly changed. First it loses 
 its peculiar gloss and lustre, then its 
 polished surface grows dull and dim, and 
 its keen edge blunted and jagged. Upon 
 this there follows a further process of 
 decay, and a chemical change takes place. 
 Slowly but surely the rust settles upon it, 
 and corrodes and eats away its very 
 substance; so that at last one can scarcely 
 recognize in the dark, rusty object, the 
 once bright and beautiful blade. It is 
 worth nothing but to be thrown away. 
 Well, in the spiritual order, something 
 very similar to this happens to our souls, 
 when exposed year after year to the cor- 
 rosive and contaminating atmosphere of 
 the world. We start out on our earthly 
 pilgrimage with a spirit of great and 
 unquestioning loyaltjf to the Church. We 
 love and cherish and revere her as our 
 spiritual mother; we listen with attention 
 to her teaching; we respect her decisions 
 and we seek her counsel. Our obedience 
 is thorough, prompt, and hearty. In fact, 
 we seem to hear Christ Himself speaking 
 through her Hps; and it never occurs to 
 us to carp and criticise, or to call in 
 question her prudence or her wisdom. 
 
lO DANGERS OF THE DAV 
 
 When we meet with others acting differ- 
 ently, we are not only surprised: we are 
 shocked and distressed. Perhaps we even 
 burn with a holy indignation. 
 
 But time wears on. We grow accustomed 
 to such conduct; we think less of it; and, 
 little by little, our righteous indignation 
 cools or dies out altogether; for the world 
 has been too much with us. We may not 
 realize this all at once. But by and by, 
 when some law or ecclesiastical regulation 
 comes and touches us personally — interfer- 
 ing with our liberty, or checking or restrain- 
 ing our desires in some wa)^ — we, too, 
 begin to encourage and entertain doubts 
 as to the authority of the Church to 
 impose her laws upon us, and to claim 
 our obedience. 
 
 We have set our heart, let us sup- 
 pose, on marrying a Protestant. Now, the 
 Church forbids such unions, though she 
 may grant a dispensation. Nevertheless, 
 she imposes her conditions. She demands 
 a promise that all the children that may 
 be born of such a union shall be baptized 
 in the Catholic Church and brought up 
 Catholics ; and that the marriage ceremony 
 shall be solemnized in a Catholic church, 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 11 
 
 and before a Catholic priest, and so forth. 
 But our Protestant fianc6 does not ap- 
 prove of this arrangement. He is strongly 
 averse to it, and appeals to our generosity 
 to release him from such conditions. We" 
 listen to him rather than to the Church. 
 Principle goes down before expediency. 
 We yield. The atmosphere of the world 
 has been acting upon us. We forget our 
 past protestations of loyalty and our loving 
 obedience ; for the rust of self-will has eaten 
 into our very soul. With a toss of the 
 head and a gesture of defiance, we drive off 
 to the nearest Protestant church, or perhaps 
 to the registrar's office, and get married 
 there. The bells ring out a merry peal 
 from the Protestant church tower. But — 
 the angels weep! 
 
 To everyone who is sufficiently vain and 
 worldly-minded to listen, the devil is ever 
 artfully and cunningly repeating the self- 
 same query that he once put to Eve, with 
 such disastrous effect — viz. : " Why hath 
 God commanded you that you should not 
 eat of every tree of Paradise? " And woe to 
 us if we hearken to his words! When God 
 deigns to speak, whether it be with His own 
 divine lips, as in the Holy Scriptures, or 
 
12 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 through the voice of His infallible spouse, 
 the Church, it is our clear duty to obey. 
 What God's motives are, or what His 
 precise purpose may be, it is not for us to 
 inquire. It is quite enough to know on 
 unimpeachable evidence, that it is God 
 who is speaking and commanding. 
 
 But the Evil One is well aware of our 
 pride and inborn conceit. His experience 
 tells him that he has only to suggest an 
 appeal from the decree itself to our own 
 private judgment, in order that we should 
 fall into the trap and be caught in his 
 toils. Hence he is ever whispering into the 
 ears of worldly men and women; and trying 
 to shake their simple faith by asking: 
 " Why has God commanded this observ- 
 ance? Why has He restricted your liberty? 
 Why should you be asked to do this or 
 that? Why does the Church pass such a 
 law or formulate such a regulation?" We 
 hearken to these inquiries the more readily 
 because they flatter our pride, and because 
 they arouse within us a sense of our own 
 importance; and too often we answer the 
 devil by expressing our readiness to deter- 
 mine the whole matter for ourselves. That 
 we have never studied a theological 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 13 
 
 treatise in our lives, and that we know 
 nothing of the real merits of the particular 
 point at issue, matters not a straw. We are 
 quite ready to set our individual opinion — 
 formed, perhaps, in a fit of irritation and 
 pique — against the solemn and calm judg- 
 ment of the Pope and the whole College 
 of Cardinals. 
 
 There is, in fact, a certain class of persons 
 who seem to imagine that they have been 
 especially appointed to instruct the Church, 
 and to determine what is right and what 
 is wrong. They pose as masters, not as 
 disciples. They wdsh to govern and not to 
 obey, to judge and not to be judged. 
 Nothing that the Supreme Pontiff or his 
 council does or decrees is right until it 
 has received their sanction and approval. 
 " They claim to be absolutely independent 
 of the restraining influence and authority 
 of Catholic theology; nay, more: they 
 consider that the theology of the Church 
 should be built upon the data which 
 they furnish, and, abandoning the beaten 
 paths of the past, follow the laws 
 laid down by themselves." They have 
 neither the wisdom to submit nor even 
 the modesty to keep silence, but must needs 
 
14 DANG3RS OF THE DAY 
 
 vent their superior knowledge in a loud, 
 consequential and dictatorial manner, in 
 the most hostile and anti-Catholic journals 
 of the land ; and will even invite the heret- 
 ical press to assist them to improve the 
 policy of the Holy See, to amend the decrees 
 of Roman congregations, or to upset the 
 ruling of their Ordinary. Though professiiig 
 to be practical Catholics, they side with 
 the enemies of the Church, judge her action 
 on no higher principles than those that 
 govern the world, and repeat as new and 
 true, calumnies as old as, and oftener older 
 than, Christianity itself. That we do not 
 exaggerate is evident from the words of 
 Pius X., and of Leo XIII. as well, who 
 laments in burning sentences that "the 
 license which is commonly confounded 
 with liberty, the passion for criticising and 
 finding fault with everything, the habit of 
 throwing into print whatever men think 
 or feel, have so confused and darkened 
 men's minds that the Church's office as 
 teacher has now become more than ever 
 necessary to save Christians from being 
 drawn away from conscience or duty."* 
 
 * Letter to Cardinal Gibbons. 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 1$ 
 
 This disposition to point out and to 
 comment upon the supposed mistakes of 
 her whom God has appointed to teach the 
 nations — "Go ye, therefore, and teach all 
 nations," — and to whom He has conferred 
 an authority equal to His own — "Who 
 heareth you, heareth Me," — is exceedingly 
 common among those whom the world has 
 inoculated with its own evil virus. In 
 society one is constantly meeting with 
 persons — and we speak, of course, of Cath- 
 olics — who are full of the spirit of fault- 
 finding, and who do not hesitate to express, 
 and in no measured words, their dis- 
 approval of, or their objection to, first 
 one doctrine or practice or custom or 
 institution, and then to another. Some 
 persons, for instance, will find fault with 
 religious Orders and with the whole idea 
 of the monastic life. They will speak 
 of it as medieval and archaic. Or they 
 think that such institutions should be, at 
 all events, Umited to men. Or they will 
 condescendingly allow that there "m.ay 
 possibly be some use in the active Orders" 
 which render certain services to the world, 
 and help the poor, the sick, and the 
 ignorant; but they condemn the contempla- 
 
l6 DAXGERS OF THE DAV 
 
 tives as useless drones. They calmly assure 
 us that they can see no use in those " long 
 nightly vigils and those interminable 
 psalms and canticles"; and, of course, if 
 ikey can see no use, then, obviously, there 
 can be none. That is clear; though to 
 the more simple-minded, the Church, in 
 such matters, would seem to be a more 
 reliable and trustworthy judge. 
 
 Or, again, when some young girl of 
 good family, and beautiful in soul as in 
 body, hstens to the promptings of grace 
 and turns her back upon the world and all 
 its attractions, to dedicate herself to the 
 service of God, how often one hears the 
 Church blamed and the whole institution 
 of religious communities condemned ! " She 
 might have done so much more good in 
 the world!" or "She has no right to shirk 
 her duties to society " ; or " She should have 
 remained to grace the high position in 
 which Providence had placed her," are 
 the observations that one hears. Others 
 will even say : " If some one must be sacri- 
 ficed, why don't they send her ugly sister 
 into the convent, and leave the pretty and 
 attractive daughter in the world?" Thus 
 even CathoUcs accept the opinions and 
 
DANGERS OF TUB DAY 17 
 
 adopt the views of the world around them. 
 
 Or perhaps the criticism is passed, not 
 upon the customs and discipline of the 
 Church, but upon some clearly enunciated 
 dogmatic truth. So greatly has the habit 
 of criticising developed in recent years, and 
 so inveterate is now the custom of throwing 
 everything into the crucible of one's own 
 mind, that few doctrines altogether escape 
 the ordeal. 
 
 The eternity of hell is an instance in 
 point. People affect to be very shocked at 
 the dogma: in fact, they expend so much 
 indignation upon this penalty of sin, that 
 they have hardly any left for sin itself. It 
 is not enough for them that God has 
 declared that "the wicked shall go into 
 everlasting punishment.' It appears to 
 them cruel. But God is not cruel. To their 
 notions it is " too, too horrible," — as though 
 their notions had anything to do with it. 
 They pose the question, as though it settled 
 the case : ' ' What proportion is there between 
 a mortal sin, however atrocious and how- 
 ever v/ilful, and eternal punishment? " They 
 take the glimmering light of human reason 
 as the supreme arbiter of Divine truth, and 
 would make man's fallible mind the final 
 
1 8 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 measure and supreme court of appeal con- 
 cerning the doctrines of revelation. They 
 do this because they have been Ustening to 
 the world instead of to the Apostle, who 
 cries out in warning words: " Be not wiser 
 than it behoveth you to be wise." As 
 though he would say: ' Do not try conclu- 
 sions with God, nor imagine you know more 
 than the infalUble teacher whom He has ap- 
 pointed.' If all were so clear to the meanest 
 intelligence, He would have dispensed with 
 a teaching Church, and would not have 
 commanded us to obey her under such 
 fearful and appalling sanctions. "And 
 if he will not hear the Church, let 
 him be to thee as the heathen and the 
 publican." 
 
 There are two facts clearly laid down by 
 revelation. One fact is, God is love; the 
 other fact is, hell is eternal. We may not 
 be able to reconcile these two facts in a 
 manner altogether satisfactory to our 
 limited intelligences; but that is precisely 
 because they are limited. That we can not 
 possibly see how eternity of punishment 
 is compatible with infinite goodness and 
 mercy may be perfectly true. But it by no 
 means follows that these two facts are in 
 
DANGEKS OF THE DAY 1 9 
 
 reality irreconcilable. They seem to be 
 opposed, while all the time they must 
 necessarily be in the most complete accord. 
 Nor is this apparent opposition to be 
 wondered at, since such seeming contra- 
 dictions are met with even in the order 
 of nature, which lies far m^ore within our 
 grasp. Take an instance. 
 
 If two men stand on the equator of the 
 earth, and one walks due east and the other 
 due west, they seem to increase the dis- 
 tance between them every step they take. 
 Any ordinary onlooker would declare most 
 emphatically that the longer they con- 
 tinued to walk, the greater would become 
 the space dividing them. It is only in more 
 recent times — ^in facts, only since the rotun- 
 dity of the earth has been proved — that we 
 are able to correct so erroneous an impres- 
 sion, and are in a position to realize that, 
 in reality, both men are making for the 
 self-same point; that every step is taking 
 them a degree nearer to it; and that 
 eventually they will actually meet each 
 other, and shake hands somewhere in 
 the antipodes. 
 
 If incomplete and insuflScient knowl- 
 edge can result in such confusion of mind 
 
20 DANGERS OF THB DAY 
 
 and in such erroneous conclusions in ordi- 
 nary earthly and material things, surely we 
 should expect that our ignorance of the 
 supernatural and the divine would often 
 lead to far more erroneous judgments 
 and to far more untenable opinions. In 
 short, we should realize that our only 
 security from error, in the spiritual 
 order, is in giving up our own views, 
 when contrary to the teaching of the 
 Church, and in placing ourselves under 
 the direction of her whose knowledge, 
 within her own sphere, is neither super- 
 ficial nor inexact. 
 
 Those who possess true humility — which 
 is really but a practical knowledge of one's 
 own limitations — know that there are, 
 and must necessarily be, countless truths 
 known to God which are unknown to man ; 
 and many which are not simply unknown 
 to man, but wholly beyond his power 
 of comprehension, in his present earthly 
 state. The intellect bestowed upon us is 
 infinitely less, as compared with the omni- 
 science of God, than the light of the glow- 
 worm's spark as compared with the light 
 of the noonday sun. We know very little; 
 but, thank God, we know quite enough, 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 21 
 
 if we know how to submit to our divinely 
 appointed teacher. 
 
 Men seem to overlook the fact that 
 difficulties which are real difficulties to us 
 are no difficulties to God; and that what, 
 in our present state, seems to be hard or 
 even wholly impossible, will appear mani- 
 fest, clear, and self-evident, so soon as 
 faith gives place to actual vision, and 
 our minds are flooded with the Ught of 
 glory, "In Thy, Ught we shall see light." 
 But, owing to our environment, we easily 
 come to judge things as the world judges 
 them. We see with its eyes, we hear with 
 its ears, and, like those around us, we 
 grow weak and wanting in lively faith, by 
 reason of our continual contact and inter- 
 course with the world, which is ever hostile 
 to the interests of God, — as, indeed, St. 
 John implies when he teUs us that "the 
 world is the enemy of God." 
 
 The examples I have given are mere 
 specimens; for there is scarcely a point of 
 practical importance on which worldly men 
 are not ready to pass judgment, or which 
 they hesitate to subject to human criti- 
 cism. But it would be tedious to multiply 
 examples. 
 
22 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 How far removed is all this from the true 
 and thoroughly loyal Catholic spirit, which 
 is ever a spirit of trust and confidence and 
 love! Christ has established His Church 
 for the express purpose of teaching and 
 directing and admonishing us: "Go and 
 teach." He has invested it with His own 
 authority : " He that despiseth you despiseth 
 Me." It is for us, then, as dutiful children, 
 to obey her in the spirit of meekness; to 
 sit thoughtfully at her feet, as Mary sat 
 of old at the feet of our Blessed I<ord; to 
 hearken to her voice as to the voice of God; 
 and to be wilUng to be taught and corrected 
 and chided. The atmosphere of the world 
 has, perhaps, gone far to rob us of that 
 beautiful and childlike spirit; and we have 
 grown too "wise in our own conceits" to 
 conduct ourselves as children. Yet our 
 Divine Master warns us that this is neces- 
 sary : " Unless you become as children " — 
 yea, as "Uttle" children — "you shall not 
 enter into the kingdom of heaven." 
 
 The world scorns and jeers at us for our 
 obedience, and speaks loudly and angrily 
 of "personal freedom," and "intellectual 
 independence," and " the tyranny of 
 Rome," and what not. It flatters itself 
 
DANGBRS OF THS DAY 23 
 
 that wisdom is made manifest by arrogance 
 and pride and self-assertion. But Infinite 
 Truth lays down quite another principle, 
 and declares that " where wisdom is, there 
 is humility." And this principle applies to 
 the learned and the great quite as much as 
 to the simple and the poor, — or rather it 
 applies to the former even more directly 
 and more especially. For this statement we 
 may allege the authority, not of man, but 
 of God, who says by the mouth of the 
 author of Ecclesiasticus : "The greater thou 
 art, the more humble thyself in all things, 
 and then thou shalt find grace before God." 
 The fine lady reclining in her drawing- 
 room, or the gay man about town, or the 
 popular writer in his library, who calmly 
 sets aside some decree of the Pope, or 
 explains away some doctrine of revelation, 
 or who questions the Church's right to put 
 a book on the Index, or to make impedi- 
 ments in matrimony, or to forbid Catholics 
 taking part in Protestant services, and so 
 forth, may be a charming companion, but 
 is not far from being a rebel at heart. 
 Such a one manifests a disloyal and a 
 dangerous spirit. It may seem as yet 
 only a tiny spark; but, too often, 
 
24 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 "from a spark cometh a great fire." 
 It is precisely such a spark, fanned into a 
 flame and grown strong, that produces at 
 length the heresiarchs and leaders of 
 revolt, and that has lost so many souls to 
 the Church. It is this spirit of distrust 
 and discontent which, beginning in pride 
 and self-sufficiency, ends in open apostasy 
 and spiritual ruin. The earth is strewn 
 with such human wreckage. "Be not 
 high-minded, but fear." Trust not the 
 wisdom of the world. And remember that 
 "knowledge puffeth up," and "God resists 
 the proud, and gives His graces to the 
 humble." 
 
 The necessity of this prompt, hearty, 
 and cheerful obedience and submission 
 appUes, of course, in the strictest and most 
 absolute manner to all matters of faith, — 
 that is to say, to all decrees and definitions 
 emanating from ecumenical councils, and 
 from Popes speaking in their capacity of 
 universal teachers — ex cathedra — urH et 
 orbi. But it is the only fitting and desir- 
 able attitude even in regard to other 
 doctrines, which are proposed to us with 
 less stress and insistence. " To think as the 
 Church thinks — sentire cum Ecclesia, — ^to be 
 
DANGBRS O? THB DAY 25 
 
 of one mind with her, to obey her voice, is 
 not a matter of duty in those cases only 
 when the subject matter is one of divine 
 revelation, or is connected therewith. It 
 is an obligation also, whenever the subject 
 matter of the Church's teaching falls 
 within her authority. And that range 
 comprises all that is necessary for feeding, 
 teaching, and governing the flock. Under 
 this ordinary authority, or magisienum, 
 come the pastoral letters of bishops, 
 diocesan and provincial decrees; and 
 (though standing respectively on higher 
 ground, as being of superior order and 
 covering the whole Church) many acts of 
 the Supreme Pontiff and all the decisions 
 of the Roman Congregations. It is by 
 virtue of ordinary ecclesiastical authority, 
 not of infallibility, that the larger number 
 of the hortative, directive and preceptive 
 acts of the Church are issued."* 
 
 The attitude assumed by not a few Cath- 
 olics in the world is neither edifying nor 
 safe. Consider what the Church really is, 
 and the sacred r61e confided to her. She is 
 the creation of Christ Himself, the infinite 
 
 * A Pastoral Letter signed by the Cardinal Archbishop 
 and all the bishops of the Province of Westminster 
 A. D. 1900. p. 13. 
 
26 DANGERS or THB DAY 
 
 God; and she is destined to represent Him, 
 to be His alter ego. She exists to stem 
 the tide of evil, to point out error, and to 
 strike a warning note when the sacred 
 deposit of divine truth is in danger of being 
 tampered with. She possesses a divine life, 
 and is informed and vivified by the indwell- 
 ing presence of the Holy Spirit. Even 
 where she does not pronounce a final and 
 infallible sentence, her teaching is of the 
 highest authority and not to be easily set 
 aside. With her many saintly Pontiffs, 
 archbishops and bishops, with her super- 
 natural life, her wide and varied exprience 
 and the tradition of well-nigh two thousand 
 years, the Church is recognized even by 
 a great many non-Catholics as the most 
 enlightened governing body in the world. 
 We may, then, well rest content to accept 
 her as our mistress, to be directed by her 
 laws and to be enlightened by her wisdom. 
 In spite of what the world may say, we 
 shall feel safe in her keeping; and shall 
 reaUze that he who puts her aside, and 
 makes his own faltering reason his sole 
 guide, chooses a veritable fool for his coun- 
 sellor. From which misfortune may God 
 in His mercy deliver us' Amen. 
 
n. 
 
 The Encroachments of the World. 
 
 11 ricco & tutto intento a godere dei beni chc ha; 
 I'avaro ad accrcscere tesori a tesori; il disonesto i 
 dar sfogo alle proprie infami passion! ; U trafficante a 
 stipular afFari, imbrogliando questo e quello; il letterato 
 a torturar Vingegno onde inventsxe Qualcosa da rcadersi 
 famoso e lucrare nel mondo; il contadino a svolgere la 
 terra tra le maledizioni contro Dio e contro gli nomini; 
 il povero come a passar nell' infingardaggine e nell' ozio 
 la miserable esistenza. In una parola; not vsdiamo la 
 piA parte degli uomini non occuparsi che dtUe cost dt 
 tfutsta terra. — M^r. A. Bersani, Bishop of Patara, I. P. /. 
 
 F all created things, there is 
 nothing on earth so precious 
 or so admirable as the human 
 soul, illuminated and elevated 
 by divine grace. Its intrinsic 
 value is so immense that words fail us 
 when we attempt to describe it. No 
 object that this world contains can bear 
 any comparison with it. The entire wealth 
 of the material universe, even if multiplied 
 over and over a thousand times, could not 
 purchase it. It surpasses, by an immeas- 
 urable distance, all that fancy can paint, or 
 imagination picture, or mind conceive. Its 
 unparalleled beauty, which is nothing less 
 than the reflected beauty of the uncreated, 
 
 27 
 
28 DANGERS OF THB DAY 
 
 ever-blessed Trinity, draws down the love 
 and complacency of God Himself, and fills 
 His heart with ineffable tenderness and 
 affection. Indeed, for the sake of winning 
 it and repurchasing it after it was lost, He 
 did what He did for no other, — ^no, not 
 even for the Cherubim or the Seraphim. 
 He came down from heaven, clothed 
 Himself with our nature, and ransomed 
 the soul of man by paying an infinite 
 price — the price of His own Most Precious 
 Blood.* 
 
 While wayfarers in this world, we walk 
 by faith alone, t and dwell in darkness and 
 in the shadow of death, so that we can not 
 gaze upon the beauty of the invisible spirit 
 within us, made to the image and likeness 
 of the uncreated beauty of the Deity, and 
 actually sharing, in some mysterious 
 way, in the divine nature. Divince naturce 
 particeps.% It is only by the exercise of 
 divine faith that we come to form a proper 
 estimate of the dignity of our own soul 
 when clothed with grace. It is faith only 
 that enables us to accept the astounding 
 fact that it possesses a beauty beyond all 
 created beauties, an excellence beyond all 
 
 * Rom.. V. 9. t II Cor., v, 7. J II St. Peter, i, 4. 
 
DANGERS OV THB DAY 29 
 
 created excellences, and a splendor beyond 
 all created splendors; and, further, that 
 it is destined, if only it be faithful and 
 persevering, not only to sit with God upon 
 His throne amid the undreamed glories 
 of the heavenly palace, but even to add 
 something to the ravishing loveliness of 
 that celestial abode. 
 
 But, alas! how few there are who at all 
 realize their own spiritual pre-eminence, 
 or who even, strange to say, deem it worth 
 preserving! Alas! how many show them- 
 selves utterly unconcerned about it, and 
 ready foolishly to barter it away for the 
 merest trifle, and to forfeit all for the satis- 
 faction of some unclean pleasure or the 
 indulgence of some base passion! "When 
 man was in honor, he did not understand : 
 he hath been compared to senseless beasts, 
 and made like to them."* 
 
 But, gentle reader, if we are foolish and 
 inappreciative, there are others who are 
 wise enough to recognize the treasure that 
 we carry "in earthen vessels." Satan and 
 the other fallen angels are fully conscious 
 of the peerless value of even the least soul, 
 made to God's image and redeemed by 
 
 * Ps, xlviii, 21, 
 
30 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 His death. Those keen, penetrating intel- 
 ligences, unhampered by the trammels of 
 flesh, see, as no man living can possibly 
 see, its dignity and unapproachable excel- 
 lence; and, since they are consumed by 
 an insatiable jealousy of us, and an 
 implacable hatred of God, they watch 
 every opportunity to rob us of our prize, 
 and Him of our allegiance. 
 
 This is no idle fancy, no nightmare born 
 of a diseased imagination, but a solemn 
 truth attested by divine revelation. The 
 Holy Spirit of God assures us, of what 
 some of us seem strangely unconscious — 
 namely, that we are having and moving in 
 the very midst of powerful and hostile 
 forces, and ever surrounded by sleepless 
 enemies who are on our trail night and 
 day, plotting our downfall, and laying 
 snares to entrap the presumptuous and 
 the unwary. "The devil goeth about," 
 fierce and menacing and pitiless, ''as a 
 roaring lion, seeking whom he may 
 devour."* 
 
 It is by reason of his rage and anger and 
 power that the Apostle compares him to a 
 lion; yet, inasmuch as he is invisible and 
 
 * I_St, Peter, v., 8 
 
DANGERS OF THB DAY 31 
 
 impervious to the senses, we may surely 
 say that the devil is a greater menace to 
 our spiritual life than even the most 
 ferocious beast of the forest is to our 
 physical life. A visible enemy we may 
 more easily guard against; a visible enemy 
 we watch and avoid; a visible enemy 
 we may elude and escape from. But 
 who will deliver us from the hosts of evil 
 spirits who haunt us at every step, and 
 whose cunning is surpassed only by their 
 malice? I say "hosts," and I say so 
 advisedly, Since their "name is legion." 
 Are we not expressly warned by St. Paul 
 that "our wrestling is not against flesh 
 and blood, but against principalities and 
 powers, against the rulers of the world 
 of this darkness, against the spirits of 
 wickedness in the high places"?* 
 
 These alarming words are inspired by 
 God, the Eternal Truth. Then we may 
 well ask ourselves to what purpose are 
 they uttered. Why does God strike this 
 note of warning? Is it, perchance, that 
 we should pay no heed? No. It is that 
 we should grow more and more sensible 
 of our peril, and that we should be per- 
 
 * Eph.. vi, 12. 
 
32 DANGERS O? THE DAY 
 
 suaded to watch and pray, lest we be 
 seduced. In a word, it is that we should 
 realize our position, and set a guard on 
 every avenue by which the enemy may 
 gain an entry into our hearts; that we 
 should tread the sUppery path of life with 
 the utmost caution and circumspection, 
 and, as St. Paul says, " take unto ourselves 
 the armor of God, that we may be able 
 to resist";* and, "casting ofiF the works 
 of darkness, put on the armor of Ught."t 
 Satan is a consummate general. He 
 has at his command an immense force, 
 which he marshals with wondrous skill; 
 and, as a consequence, the injury he inflicts 
 on souls is prodigious. His stratagems are 
 various and subtle; and, unless we can 
 detect them, we run a serious risk of falling 
 into his toils. There is one stratagem which, 
 at first glance, seems so harmless and so in- 
 nocent that it excites no apprehension, and 
 disarms even the most suspicious. The cruel 
 hook is so cleverly hidden beneath the 
 bait that we can scarcely be persuaded 
 that it is there until at last, Uke the 
 unwary fish, we are caught. 
 
 * Ephes., vi, 13. t Rom., xiii, 12. 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 33 
 
 To realize this we had better compare 
 the devil's tactics with those of an ordinary 
 general who has made up his mind to 
 get possession of some important fortress. 
 He may adopt one of two courses. He 
 may, of course, bombard it, undermine 
 its foundations, and blow it to pieces, 
 and so force an entry; or he may follow 
 a totally opposite plan, — that is to say, 
 he may decide to reduce it to submission, 
 without firing so much as one shot, or 
 exploding so much as a single mine. He 
 simply surrounds it with his army, closes 
 up every channel by which provisions can 
 enter, and cuts oflf all the necessities of 
 life. The result is the garrison is obliged 
 to capitulate. This second scheme will 
 be found quite as effective as the first. 
 For the absence of food will soon make 
 itself felt. Weakness and disease and 
 discontent will become rife among the 
 soldiers defending the fortress, until, seeing 
 themselves reduced to the last extremity, 
 and face to face with death, they will 
 surrender to the victorious general. 
 Thus, without striking a blow or firing 
 a gun, the end is obtained. 
 
 By similar means the devil strives to 
 
34 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 enter into possession of our souls. They are 
 the important fortresses against which he 
 directs his attacks. Assisted and abetted 
 by his able Ueutenants, the Flesh and the 
 World, he is ever seeking to reduce them to 
 captivity. How? Not always by assault- 
 ing the citadel of our soul directly. Not 
 by drawing us into the immediate com- 
 mission of some grievous sin, or deadly 
 crime crying to Heaven for vengeance; 
 but simply by quietly and gradually cutting 
 off our spiritual suppUes, and withholding 
 from us all access to the ordinary channels 
 of divine grace, such as prayer and the 
 sacraments and other spiritual aids. And 
 in this he is often, alas! only too successful. 
 For observe: as the body of man is not 
 self-supporting, so neither is the soul. 
 As the body depends upon many external 
 conditions for its general health and 
 well-being, so is it with the soul. The 
 body needs food, drink, clothing, shelter, 
 air, light, and sleep. These things are not 
 merely desirable: they are essential. With- 
 out their aid the body can not continue to 
 Uve. Should an assassin desire to destroy 
 my bodily life, there is no need for him 
 to thrust a dagger into my heart; he need 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 35 
 
 not approach me or touch a hair of my 
 head. All that he need do is to cut off 
 my supplies. If only he can deprive me 
 of food or of drink or of air or of sleep, 
 his victory is complete. Death will follow 
 with absolute certainty. 
 
 The same truth holds good of the 
 life of the soul. " Not in bread alone does 
 man live,"* says the Holy Spirit. No; 
 for man has a spiritual as well as a corporal 
 life, and he requires a supersubstantial 
 bread to maintain it in health. He must 
 have leisure for communion with God, 
 for prayer, for the reception of the sacra- 
 ments, and for much else. Indeed, prayer 
 is to the soul what food is to the body. 
 Deprive it of that, and it must needs 
 languish and perish. The sacraments 
 are Ukewise necessary, being the special 
 channels of divine grace and favor, 
 instituted by God to bring strength and 
 vigor to our souls. In addition to these 
 there are many other sources of grace, 
 only less important than the above, such 
 as meditation and reflection on the eternal 
 truths, spiritual reading, examination of 
 conscience, and so forth. 
 
 * St. Matt., iv, 4. 
 
36 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 These duties, daily attended to, soon 
 create what I may describe as a certain 
 atmosphere most favorable for the de- 
 velopment of piety and holiness. In this 
 atmosphere the soul freely expands and 
 develops, and produces choice fruits of 
 virtue, as do plants in a tropical climate. 
 It breathes more freely and grows strong 
 and stately and robust in so suitable an 
 environment. Consider, for example, the 
 advantages of spiritual reading, in which 
 we are brought, as it were, face to face 
 with the noblest and most heavenly- 
 minded of all ages. As we study the 
 acts of the martyrs, and contemplate the 
 heroism of the saints, we are stirred by 
 their noble example, encouraged by their 
 dauntless fortitude, and set all on fire by 
 their splendid loyalty to God and their 
 unwavering devotion to His Church. As we 
 go on from page to page, and indeed long 
 after we have finished our reading and laid 
 the book aside, we feel as though we were 
 really living and moving among God's 
 saints, sharing their society and enjoying 
 their conversation; and we gain strength 
 of soul and of character by their very 
 nearness and companionship. In short 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 37 
 
 the soul stands in need of a great many 
 helps and encouragements for the full 
 development and perfect attainment of its 
 spiritual health. 
 
 Consequently, if it is really to enjoy 
 any degree of vigor, it must secure leisure 
 and opportunity to utilize and turn to 
 account the various means that God has 
 so lovingly destined for the purpose. 
 Time is essential; it can not be dispensed 
 with on any pretext whatsoever; nothing 
 else can take its place. But the devil has 
 to be reckoned with; and he clearly sees 
 that to ruin our souls, one of the surest 
 means is to starve them out. And, since 
 the world at the present day may be relied 
 upon to second his perfidious designs, 
 and render them efifectual, this is the 
 means he is mostly inclined to make use 
 of. It best suits the exigencies of the 
 period in which our lot is cast. The 
 reason is obvious. 
 
 In former days men enjoyed much more 
 leisure than they do now. The course of 
 human Ufe flowed by more evenly and 
 calmly. Populations were smaller, and men 
 were more widely separated one from the 
 other, The m^ans of travelling were slow 
 
38 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 and inadequate ; hence people stayed much 
 at home, and seldom strayed beyond the 
 limits of. their own village. They were 
 far simpler in their tastes; few could read, 
 and the daily paper, with all its sensational 
 news, was unknown. Both men and women 
 were content with homely pastimes and 
 rural games and simple amusements, 
 and led an uneventful existence. They 
 scarcely troubled themselves about the 
 world at large, or looked beyond their 
 own immediate circle. 
 
 Now all this has changed. To-day we 
 have vaster populations than we know 
 what to do with, and congested districts 
 where men stand perpetually in each 
 other's way; and, while they demand, and 
 indeed seem to require, much more than 
 formerly, the means of subsistence are not 
 so easily obtainable. It is a very hard 
 struggle to make ends meet. There is 
 a fierce and bitter contest going on, so 
 that the day of twenty-four hours is found 
 all too short. Men in this twentieth 
 century live in a perpetual rush, in a fever 
 of excitement, and in a ceaseless whirl of 
 business. They can not spare a moment, 
 but must be ever with the harness on their 
 
DANGERS Olf THE DAY 39 
 
 backs. The result is that, not having 
 time for everything, they are disposed to 
 allow the world and worldly interests to 
 encroach more and more upon their 
 thoughts and minds, till at last the supreme 
 interests of their souls are thrust aside, 
 or compelled to sit and wait like beggars 
 in the antechamber of their brain, till tem- 
 poral business has been attended to and dis- 
 patched, which often means till the soul 
 itself languishes from neglect and privation. 
 Satan watches the course of events with 
 diabolical satisfaction, and recognizes in 
 the modern world a valuable ally. He 
 is the astute general bent upon reducing 
 our soul to captivity. Well does he know 
 the value of pra:yer and the sacraments, 
 and the other means of grace. It is liis 
 purpose, therefore, to deprive us of such 
 helps, to hinder us from making use of 
 them, to keep them well out of our reach, 
 and hterally to destroy our spiritual life 
 by starvation. What does it signify 
 to him whether we perish everlastingly 
 through yielding to some sudden and 
 violent assault, or through a gradual 
 process of exhaustion and starvation? 
 Nothing whatever. 
 
40 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 Such, then, is the end in view. And 
 how is Satan going to realize it? What 
 are the means? He calls into his service 
 the aid of the world, with all its modern 
 requirements and exactions; and the 
 world undertakes to close in upon us, 
 slowly perhaps, but surely, and absorb us. 
 Its aim and object, let us speak plainly, 
 is to gain complete control over the whole 
 of our time, — to possess it entirely, and 
 to claim every hour for itself. It enters 
 into a man's heart, and will acknowledge 
 no rival. It says: "You are all mine; 
 your interests, your ambitions, your desires 
 are mine; your talents and your gifts and 
 your fortune must be placed at my service 
 and employed as I suggest." The world 
 may not suggest anything evil in itself. 
 True; and in this especially the danger 
 really lies. For if it did, our suspicions 
 would be aroused ; we should be put on the 
 defensive, and might resist and overcome. 
 But it counsels no crime, it proposes 
 no direct sin. In fact, this is in no sense 
 requisite for the devil's purpose. It is 
 enough if he can only keep us so occupied 
 and absorbed in anything whatsoever as 
 to exclude God and spiritual things frorn 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 41 
 
 our thoughts, and gradually deprive us of 
 our spiritual life by shutting put all that 
 is essential to its support and well-being. 
 Our hearts and minds are too circumscribed 
 to take in everything; and to fill them 
 up to the very brim with the world is 
 the same thing as to empty them entirely 
 of God. 
 
 It is the hurry and bustle of the present 
 age, and the continuous and ever-increas- 
 ing demands made upon our limited time, 
 that constitute a very real and a very 
 pressing spiritual danger. Our life is such a 
 round of work and worry if we are poor, 
 and of pleasure and dissipation if we are 
 rich, that it often happens that no sufficient 
 margin is reserved for the necessary exer- 
 cises of devotion. In a word, the claims 
 of this world allow no place for the claims 
 of the next, and jostle them out as unwar 
 rantable intruders. 
 
 Call to mind the hours consumed in 
 dressing and undresang, and in the per- 
 sonal care and adornment of the corrupt- 
 ible body; consider the breakfasts and 
 luncheons and five-o'clock teas, and the 
 interminable dinners and late suppers; 
 count the hours spent in paying unneces- 
 
42 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 sary visits and making afternoon calls; 
 note the chatter and gossip, and the idle, 
 if not ill-natured, talk that runs away with 
 quite an appreciable fraction of our brief 
 life. Then there are operas, and theatres, 
 and concerts, and pantomimes, and small 
 dances, and great balls, and poUtical 
 reunions, and fashionable parties, and 
 literary gatherings, and conversaziones, 
 and "At homes." And in the midst of 
 this whirl of worldliness and dissipation, 
 what becomes of our spiritual interests? 
 They are forgotten, lost sight of, neglected. 
 If a few minutes' lull comes to us in the 
 midst of this bustle and excitement, it is 
 immediately filled up; for "we must just 
 peep into the last batch of books from the 
 Times hbrary," or take a hurried glance 
 over the evening paper, and see how Lady 
 This or Lord That has been distinguishing 
 herself or himself in the law courts, for 
 embezzlement or breach of promise. And 
 so, in one way or another, every moment 
 is crammed full. And though, as each 
 day flies by, we are not conscious of having 
 done anything radically wrong and sinful, 
 yet our soul grows gradually but unmis- 
 takably weaker and feebler, because it is 
 
DANGERS OF the; DAY 43 
 
 slowly starving, starving, starving. With 
 the Royal Prophet, we might well cry out 
 in tones of agony, did we realize our state: 
 " My heart is withered, because I forgot 
 to eat my bread."* 
 
 There is no doubt that the Evil One 
 carefully studies our inclinations and pas- 
 sions, our preferences and tendencies, our 
 likes and dislikes, in order that he may 
 craftily enlist them all in his service; for 
 it is according to the art of war for a com- 
 mander to make everything, if possible 
 even the very elements, fight on his side. 
 Perhaps he perceives that we are much 
 interested in politics. It matters not a 
 straw whether we be Liberal or Conserva- 
 tive, Home Rulers or Radicals, Socialists, 
 Democrats or Republicans. If only he 
 can prevail upon us to become absorbed 
 by some political aim, to live for it, to 
 dream of it by night, to work for it by day, 
 and to sacrifice even our religious interests 
 for it, the devil's end is gained. Provided 
 only that we are complacent enough to 
 allow him to strangle us, he is quite willing 
 to accommodate us by employing a silken 
 cord instead of a hempen one. 
 
 * Ps., ci, S. 
 
44 DANGERS OP THE DAY 
 
 Observe, the whole danger consists in 
 becoming engrossed. What the particular 
 nature of the object that engrosses us may 
 be, matters little or nothing. It may, of 
 course, be something distinctly harmful 
 or objectionable in itself, such as gambling, 
 horse-racing, betting, card-playing, drink- 
 ing and carousing; but this is by no means 
 necessary. In fact, the devil far oftener 
 beguiles us by something quite innocent or 
 even praiseworthy, such as our professional 
 duties, or the inordinate love of books, 
 even serious books, or study or literature. 
 Or it may even be art or music or science 
 or stock-broking or farming or athletioE, 
 or anything else carried to excess, provided 
 only that it fills our time and thoughts to 
 the exclusion of spiritual things. 
 
 This is by no means a fanciful case. 
 Such innocuous occupations not unfre- 
 quently become a regular passion, take 
 complete possession of the mind, and 
 swallow up all our leisure. The interest 
 becomes so keen and uncontrollable that 
 at last we sacrifice our duties to God in 
 order more fully to indulge our favorite 
 amusement or occupation, and to gain 
 additional time. It is allowed to encroach 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 45 
 
 more and more upon the hours set aside 
 for prayer and other reUgious exercises. 
 Everything must yield to its imperious 
 demands. It crushes out or thrusts to one 
 side first one spiritual duty, then another. 
 It rises like a tide, and spreads over our 
 whole life, and swamps everything. 
 
 Perhaps my remarks, so far, may seem 
 appUcable only to the wealthy and the 
 prosperous; but they are in reality quite 
 as applicable to the poor and the indigent, 
 who are obliged to toil for their daily 
 bread. Yes, their danger also is that of 
 being absorbed by the world around them, 
 though it is in a somewhat different 
 manner. With the working classes, it is 
 not pleasure and dissipation and amuse- 
 ment, but rather the unfortunate condi- 
 tions of their state, and the enormous 
 demands made upon them by the peculiar 
 nature of their trade or business. We 
 know, alas! all too well the keen rivalry 
 that now exists among the members of 
 every craft, and the severe struggle for 
 existence, together with the long hours, 
 and overwork, and the accompanying 
 sense of weariness and depression, not to 
 speak of actual despair, that takes hold of 
 
46 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 many of our less fortunate brethren. 
 
 This incessant work, work, work, morn- 
 ing, noon, and night, puts a terrible strain 
 upon the body and upon the mind. This 
 continuous hand-to-hand wrestling with 
 famine and want, this perpetual effort to 
 keep the wolf from the door, carried on 
 without rest or hope of better things, 
 year in and year out, is a horrible obstacle 
 to piety and holiness. The very condition 
 of such a life so rivets the attention upon 
 present necessities as to divert it almost 
 entirely from those of the future. It not 
 only shuts out all thoughts of another 
 world, but often seems to render men 
 physically unfit to perform their religious 
 duties in this. 
 
 How many a poor, hard-working man 
 retires to rest on a Saturday night so 
 utterly weary and worn, and so completely 
 broken down and exhausted by his week's 
 slaving in factory, mine or coal-pit, that 
 on Sunday morning he feels physically 
 unable to rise and assist at Mass and attend 
 to the services of his Church! How many 
 are so pressed by poverty and driven on 
 by competition that they will work all 
 Sunday as well as weekdays, as their only 
 
DANGERS OK THE DAY 47 
 
 chance of keeping pace with their com- 
 petitors! The absorption of the entire 
 man by the world is one of the greatest 
 curses of the age in which our lot is cast, 
 and one of the hardest problems to solve. 
 Who shall say how many thousands in 
 this way have ceased altogether to fre- 
 quent the services of the Church, and have 
 become wholly lost to the Faith! 
 
 It has been shown that within five or 
 six miles of Charing Cross, in London, 
 there are literally hundreds of thousands 
 of persons who never cross the threshold 
 of any church, who never practise any form 
 of religion, who never bow the head or 
 bend the knee in prayer to their Creator 
 and Redeemer, and who, for all practical 
 purposes, are as pagan as the South Sea 
 Islanders or the heathen Chinese. They 
 are bound hand and foot in the deadly 
 grasp of the powers of the world. 
 
 We are not excusing their irreligion and 
 their indiilerence : we are merely, in part, 
 accounting for it, and pointing to one 
 among many circumstances which help 
 to bring it about. There is no harm, 
 certainly, in a man making shoes and 
 boots, or suits of clothes, or driving an 
 
48 DANGERS OF THB DAY 
 
 omnibus, or keeping an eating-house, and 
 so forth. But if competition be so keen and 
 the struggle so close that he is induced to 
 carry on his trade, not only on all the 
 weekdays but during the whole of Sunday 
 too, then his soul is in the position of 
 the fortress surrounded by the enemy, 
 and God alone can save him. If the 
 making of boots or clothes, or any other 
 manufactured article, is to absorb him, 
 fill his time, occupy his thoughts, and 
 drive out all that is noblest and best and 
 most spiritual and Godlike in his nature, 
 converting him into a mere machine, 
 it becomes a curse and a snare and a 
 source of very real and grave danger. 
 The devil has reduced that soul, at all 
 events; and desperate is its lot. 
 
 We, gentle reader, are probably living 
 in easier circumstances; and yet, even 
 without the same excuses and violent 
 temptations, we too may be in some danger 
 of allowing the world to gain too great a 
 dominion over our hearts and over our 
 thoughts and over our time. The process 
 by which the world gradually insinuates 
 itself and enters into possession is gen- 
 erally slow and cautious. It makes its 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 49 
 
 advance by certain regular stages. Take, 
 for instance, our prayers morning and even- 
 ing. At the outset of our career, we begin 
 by saying them with much attention, 
 fervor, and earnestness, realizing that we 
 are indeed addressing an infinite and 
 omnipotent Being, the all-pure, and the 
 all-wise, upon whose favor we are entirely 
 dependent. But that was when we had 
 more leisure. Now our day has grown so 
 full! We are living in a whirlwind of 
 excitement and anxiety and stress of mind. 
 Our prayers partake of the general speed 
 and bustle and restlessness of our day. 
 They are said — if said at all — hurriedly, 
 distractedly, and with our mind on some- 
 thing else. We bring no devotion, no 
 unction to these holy exercises. The 
 next step is to shorten them. We content 
 ourselves with a Sign of the Cross and a 
 few muttered aspirations. Too probably 
 we arrive at last at a point at which 
 we think we may dispense with them 
 altogether. 
 
 And what has been said of our morn- 
 ing and night prayers may be applied, 
 in a greater or lesser degree, to all other 
 important means of divine grace, such as 
 
50 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 confession, Communion, Mass, sermons, ex- 
 amination of conscience, spiritual reading, 
 and the rest. 
 
 We have no time! No time for the one 
 thing necessary! Life is hurrying us 
 on too rapidly. The world is too much 
 with us, and the whole of our conscious 
 existence is taken up with transitory and 
 earthly affairs. We have not a moment 
 to give to God, not a moment to devote 
 to the vital and eternal interests of our 
 souls, because the whole of our life is 
 already consecrated to the service of the 
 world. Thus the enemy starves us out 
 and reduces us to captivity. 
 
 Eternity is looming in the distance. 
 But we have no time to prepare for it. 
 Heaven with its vistas of supreme delights 
 and its endless joys, and hell with its 
 quenchless flames and its excruciating 
 agonies, are before us. Toward the one 
 or the other of these two eternities we are 
 hastening with inconceivable speed, but 
 we are too busy even to inquire which of 
 the two it is! Before many more seasons 
 have run their course, we shall find our- 
 selves standing in presence of the Great 
 White Throne, and listening to the voice 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 51 
 
 of the Judge of the Hving and the dead as 
 He questions us upon our life and conduct. 
 Yes, we know that this hour is approach- 
 ing, we are fully aware of it; yet we pay 
 no heed. We are too much taken up with 
 the trivialities of the present moment 
 to trouble ourselves about eternal issues. 
 O heedless and foolish, why do you allow 
 the devil to tie a bandage over your 
 eyes, and to drive you blindfolded to 
 destruction? Well may the inspired writer 
 exclaim: "With desolation is all the land 
 made desolate, because there is none that 
 considereth in the heart."* 
 
 Perhaps Dives, the rich man of the Gos- 
 pel narrative, may be taken as a type of 
 many a wealthy man living at the present 
 day. His sin, it must be remembered, 
 was neither murder nor theft nor blas- 
 phemy, nor anything else calculated to 
 excite horror and indignation in good men. 
 It seems to have consisted simply and 
 solely in making himself his own centre. 
 He did not abuse or murmur against God: 
 He just ignored Him; he found no room 
 for Him in his daily routine of pleasure 
 and business, and lived without Him. We 
 
 * Jer., xii 11, 
 
52 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 are told that this rich man was clothed 
 iu purple and fine Unen; but that is no 
 crime. We are also informed that he 
 feasted sumptuously every day; but no 
 one will have the hardihood to afl&rm that 
 it is, in itself, a grievous sin, deserving of 
 eternal damnation, to sit down to a good 
 dinner. No: his fault, according to the 
 view of the great commentators, was that 
 he Uved without God. The world and 
 its vanities filled his heart and his mind. 
 Its pleasures and its interests, its dinners 
 and its banquets, its parties and its social 
 duties, so possessed and occupied his 
 thoughts that there was no place left 
 for God and spiritual things. 
 
 Observe, it was not that he went out 
 of his way to insult or to outrage God, or 
 to deny His authority and dominion; not 
 at all. He simply closed his eyes to the 
 spiritual world altogether, and took no 
 notice of it; treated it, in fact, as though 
 it had no objective reality. To him, in 
 short, the invisible was not only invisible, 
 it was non-existent. The result was he 
 lost his soul, which could not live while 
 cut off from all the sources of spiritual 
 life. God rejected him, and condemned 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 5;^ 
 
 him to be cast out of His presence into 
 the exterior darkness. As he had refused 
 to give God any share in his temporal life 
 and thought in this world, so God refused 
 to give him any share in His eternal life 
 in the next world. And thus will He act 
 with all who wilfully exclude Him from 
 their lives. 
 
 We may reasonably hope, dear readers, 
 that there are not many amongst ourselves 
 who have allowed things to go so far as 
 Dives did. But are there not some of us 
 who are at least travelling in the same 
 direction? I^et us look into our own hearts 
 and consider whether the world is not 
 getting some little hold upon us. Weigh 
 well its influence, and beware lest it be 
 growing too strong. See if it is not, at all 
 events, beginning to engross, if not all, at 
 least too considerable a share of our daily 
 thoughts, and leading us to abandon 
 many a holy practice, many a helpful 
 devotion. It may be urged that our 
 duties are manifold and important, that 
 our position is one of exceptional trust 
 and grave responsibility, and that a great 
 number of obUgations press upon us. 
 True. Yet, notwithstanding this, we are 
 
54 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 bound to remember that God must always 
 be given the first place in our hearts. 
 His claims must take precedence of all 
 others. If it is impossible to crowd into 
 our day all that we should wish, we are 
 bound to prefer eternal interests to those 
 of time, and the service of God to the 
 service of the world. "Seek first the king- 
 dom of God and His justice, and all these 
 things shall be added unto you."* 
 
 In this, we may learn a valuable lesson 
 from the saints. Many of them were very 
 much occupied, and had innumerable 
 duties to perform; they were statesmen, 
 kings, bishops. Popes. But we shall find 
 that, however much engaged in affairs of 
 Church or of State, they never allowed 
 their duties toward their neighbor or 
 toward their country to encroach unduly 
 upon their duties toward God nor upon 
 the hours allotted to prayer. 
 
 Take such instances as those of St. 
 Pius v., St. Louis of France, and St. 
 Charles Borromeo. Here we have a Pope, 
 a King, and a great Bishop of an impor- 
 tant diocese; each, therefore, a very busy 
 man. If business could ever excuse the 
 
 * St Matt, vi, 33. 
 
DANGERS OP THE DAY 55 
 
 neglect of prayer, surely a Pope might 
 hold himself excused. Consider his posi- 
 tion, his relationship with every part of 
 the world, his solicitude for all the churches ; 
 the constant appeals coming to him from 
 every quarter; the thousands of arch- 
 bishops, bishops, patriarchs, and delegates 
 and officials, who must see him and take 
 counsel with him; and the endless audiences 
 he must give to all sorts and conditions 
 of men. Who amongst us, gentle reader, 
 is so much occupied as he? 
 
 Or take King Louis of France, ruling 
 over a mighty nation and full of anxiety 
 for the welfare of his people. Think of 
 the demands made upon his time, by 
 sovereigns, ministers, deputies from foreign 
 courts, and others! He has scarcely one 
 moment he can call his own. Like St. 
 Charles, his office places him in an 
 altogether exceptional position of activity 
 and mental strain. Yet these three great 
 saints spent many hours each day in close 
 communion with God. Or if, on occasion, 
 the day proved too inconveniently full, 
 they would borrow some hours from the 
 night, so anxious were they to secure light 
 and refreshment to their souls. They, at 
 
56 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 least, knew how to seek first the kingdom 
 of God. Nay, more: they realized that 
 even worldly duties will receive no blessing 
 from God if He is neglected that they 
 may be accomphshed. So, every four and 
 twenty hours, for some considerable inter- 
 val, they shut out the world and its cares 
 and troubles, that they might give up 
 their whole hearts to God and to the 
 contemplation of divine things. 
 
 Dear readers, the end is approaching; 
 and well-nigh closed is the brief, brawling 
 day of our earthly existence, with its noisy 
 phantoms, as Carlyle expresses it, its poor 
 paper crowns, tinsel-gilt; and divine ever- 
 lasting Night, with her star-diadems, with 
 her silences and her veracities, is upon us. 
 The eternal gates fly open, and we are 
 drawn in — to heaven or else to hell, — it 
 remains for us to decide which it is to be. 
 May He who is to judge us help us to 
 realize our responsibiUty, and to realize 
 it before it is too late! Yes, let me repeat: 
 before it is too late. For our hves gUde on. 
 "The river ends we don't know where, 
 and the sea begins; and then there is no 
 more jumping ashore."* 
 
 * Vide: Felix Holt 
 
III. 
 
 Calling Good Evil, and Evil Good. 
 
 Und was 
 1st Zufall anders, als der rohe Stein, 
 Der Leben annimmt unter Bildners Hand? 
 Den Zufall gibt die Vorsehung — zum Zwecke 
 Muss ihn der Mensch gestalten. 
 
 — Schiller. 
 
 ^INCE the Providence of God 
 has placed us in this world for 
 the express purpose of being 
 tried, no watchfulness or pru- 
 dence upon our part will enable 
 us to escape altogether from temptation. 
 Whether we Uve in the midst of the noisy 
 world and occupy ourselves in trade and 
 business, or whether we fly into the silent 
 desert and lead a life of perpetual solitude 
 and prayer, it is all the same: we shall 
 most certainly have our spiritual battles 
 to fight and our spiritual enemies to over- 
 come. The poor may not have the same 
 trials as the rich, nor servants and 
 dependents the same difificulties as masters 
 and mistresses; but all of us, without 
 exception, and whatever may be our 
 calling, are sure to meet with many tribu- 
 
 57 
 
58 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 lations of one kind or another, and to have 
 our virtue thoroughly exercised during 
 the course of our earthly career, be it 
 short or be it long. 
 
 The devil, the world and the flesh are 
 our chief enemies; and so persistent are 
 they that it is impossible to continue 
 long without experiencing their hostility. 
 Yet the manner in which they make their 
 assaults differs very considerably from 
 age to age. Sometimes they will seek to 
 lead us astray by exciting fear and terror, 
 while at other times they will rather strive 
 to beguile us with soft and honeyed words; 
 the end sought is always the same, the 
 means employed are often quite opposite. 
 
 In this connection, we are forcibly 
 reminded of one of .^sop's well-known 
 fables. We refer to that in which he 
 represents the Sun and the Wind dis- 
 puting with each other as to which of 
 them exercised the greater influence and 
 power over the world of men. Since each 
 claimed the superiority, and neither would 
 yield to the other, they finally consented 
 to tr}^ their skill upon a poor belated 
 traveller, who chanced to be pursuing his 
 way, along a rugged and difficult ascent. 
 
DANGERS OF THe DAY 59 
 
 toward his native village, and then 
 to abide by the result. The victory was 
 to be declared in favor of the competitor 
 who should first compel the traveller 
 to remove a thick cloak that was now 
 hanging loosely from his shoulders. 
 
 The Wind was the first to essay the task. 
 It blew and blew and blew with all its 
 might and main, and raised such a blast 
 that the traveller could scarcely keep his 
 footing. It caught up the dust and 
 scattered the withered leaves and the dry 
 twigs far and wide, and enveloped the 
 unfortunate man in a perfect whirlwind. 
 Then it seized hold of his cloak by 
 every available fold and lappet, and tugged 
 and pulled and wrestled and strove with 
 relentless energy, until it had worked 
 itself into a regular phrensy of passion. 
 But all to no purpose; in fact, the more 
 violently the Wind howled and raged and 
 beat upon the traveller, the more tightly 
 and resolutely did he grasp his cloak, and 
 the more closely did he draw its folds 
 about him. The Wind, utterly disgusted, 
 then subsided, and, abandoning the 
 useless struggle, defied the Sun to succeed 
 any better. 
 
6o DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 The Sun, nothing loath, at once issued 
 forth in all its glory from behind a dark 
 cloud, and darted down its fiery rays upon 
 the weary pedestrian. Already hot and 
 tired, he became yet more so. But the 
 Sun, without pity, continued to shoot down 
 its scorching beams upon him with ever- 
 increasing fierceness. At last the wretched 
 man, panting for breath and perspiring 
 from every pore, began to loosen the folds 
 of his cloak, and, finally unfastening it, 
 threw it off altogether. Thus the Sun 
 easily won in the contest. Its quiet, pene- 
 trating action proved far more efiicacious 
 and powerful than all the bluster and 
 noisy violence of the Wind. 
 
 In this ingenious story we find a very 
 excellent and apt illustration of the two 
 different plans the devil makes use of 
 in order to persuade us poor travellers, 
 wending our way along the strait and 
 difficult path of virtue, to divest our- 
 selves of the supernatural garment of 
 divine grace. In bygone days, we were 
 in imminent danger from the fierce winds 
 and storms of cruel persecution. The old 
 Roman emperors left no stone unturned 
 in their efforts to crush out and utterly 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 6 1 
 
 destroy the infant Church. Their argu- 
 ments were torture, fire and the sword, 
 ruthlessly applied century after century, 
 until, literally, milUons had been butchered 
 and done to death on account of their 
 loyalty to Christ and the Gospel. 
 
 In England, too, after a thousand years 
 of comparative religious peace, a similar 
 spirit took possession of the King and 
 his greedy and servile minions. The 
 glorious Catholic Faith, that for ten long 
 centuries had been England's boast and 
 England's glory, was forbidden by Act of 
 Parliament. The heaviest penalties were 
 enforced upon all who preferred the law 
 of God to the law of man. Thousands 
 of persons, of both sexes and of all ages, 
 whose only offence was loyalty to God 
 and to conscience, were fined, imprisoned, 
 racked, tortured, or transported beyond 
 the seas, They were stripped of all they 
 possessed, and, in many cases, hanged 
 and drawn and quartered, without pity — 
 and for what? For holding what countless 
 generations of Englishmen had held before 
 them — namely, that the Pope is the 
 divinely appointed representative of Christ 
 upon earth, and the supreme spiritual 
 
62 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 head of His Church; and for denying that 
 which no Englishman till then had ever 
 been called on to affirm — namely, that 
 the King, within his own dominions, is 
 supreme, not only in civil and worldly 
 matters, but in those also which are 
 purely religious and ecclesiastical. As a 
 consequence, the noblest heads rolled on 
 the block, and the grandest and most 
 splendid characters were brutally mur- 
 dered at the behest of an infamous and 
 adulterous King. 
 
 Such times are happily passed, or 
 survive as mere memories amongst us; 
 and full liberty now exists, at least in 
 English-speaking countries, for everyone to 
 beUeve or to disbelieve, just as his fancy 
 or his inclination may suggest. Indeed, 
 nowhere (except in France?) does there 
 seem any likehhood of the cloak of divine 
 grace being rudely torn from our backs 
 by the storm of direct persecution. Still, 
 though this form of danger no longer 
 menaces us, there is yet considerable risk 
 lest, under the pressure of another and 
 a more insidious power, we should be 
 induced to cast off our cloaks — ^in other 
 
DANGERS Of run DAY 63 
 
 words, to renounce our allegiance to 
 God — of our own free will. 
 
 The old serpent still lives. His hatred 
 and malevolence are as deep and as strong 
 as ever, but he has changed his tactics. 
 He no longer exhibits himself as " the 
 roaring hon" described by St. Peter, 
 "going about seeking whom he may 
 devour," and striking terror and conster- 
 nation into every breast by his threats 
 of torture and of death. No. In these 
 days he generally seems to prefer the 
 disguise he assumed in the Garden of 
 Eden. As a deceitful and wily serpent, he 
 strives to insinuate himself into our hearts 
 by the exercise of duplicity, craft, and cun- 
 ning. This I take to be one of the special 
 dangers of these times, against which I 
 wish now to warn the gentle reader. 
 
 The devil's modern and up-to-date 
 weapons are deceit, falsehood, and mis- 
 representation. Indeed, God seems to send 
 a special message to us, in this twentieth 
 century, from the remote past. For He 
 certainly refers to modern and up-to-date 
 methods when, speaking by the mouth 
 of His prophet Isaias, He denounces and 
 anathematizes all those followers of Satan 
 
64 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 "who call evil good, and good evil; who 
 put darkness for hght, and light for dark- 
 ness; who put bitter for sweet, and sweet 
 for bitter."* In any case, these inspired 
 words most accurately describe the system 
 and plan followed by the three great 
 enemies of our salvation, in this highly 
 refined, enUghtened and boastful twentieth 
 century. The world no longer looks with 
 favor on persecution. It has gone out of 
 fashion, like the pointed shoes and stiff 
 frills of a former generation. Yet the 
 world is still our enemy, and it is still our 
 duty to be ever on our guard against it. 
 The world! But perhaps the reader 
 wiU ask what I mean by "the world." 
 Let me, then, say that I mean what the 
 disciple St. John meant when he said: 
 "Love not the world."t I mean what 
 St. Paul meant when he wrote to the 
 Romans (xii, 2): "Be not conformed to 
 this world." In fine, I mean what Jesus 
 Christ meant when He said: "Fear not: 
 I have overcome the world."t Yes, this 
 is the world to which I refer. It is the 
 enemy of God; it is continually striving 
 
 * Isaias, v. 20. t I St. John, u, 15. 
 
 t St. John, xvi, 33. 
 
DANGERS OF The DAY 65 
 
 by every means within its reach to draw 
 us away from the service of God, and to 
 plunge us into sin, and to deprive us of 
 all the great sources of grace and strength, 
 especially of prayer and the sacraments. 
 
 Such is its set purpose. And what are 
 the means it employs? Well! Now that 
 harsher means are frowned down upon, 
 it has recourse to every kind of stratagem, 
 deception, and misrepresentation; so that, 
 unless we are able to detect its sophistries 
 and to see through its cuiming, we shall 
 be in imminent risk of losing our souls. 
 
 Suffer me to explain. The world is 
 far too astute openly and frankly to 
 condemn what is good. If it attempted 
 such a thing, we should see through its 
 malice at once, and be put on our guard. 
 Consequently, it most carefully conceals 
 its enmity under an assumed and hypo- 
 critical appearance of friendship. It makes 
 great professions in order to deceive us 
 and lead us astray. It encourages vice 
 by calling it virtue, and will so deck out 
 and adorn evil that the unwary will often 
 mistake it for good. By these means 
 thousands allow themselves to be taken 
 in. An example or two will enable us to 
 
66 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 see how this plan works. Thus, if a man 
 be conceited and arrogant, domineering 
 with his servants, and overbearing and 
 imperious with his friends, quick to pick 
 a quarrel, and hyper-sensitive and exacting 
 about what he is pleased to call his rights, 
 and so forth, he can be described only 
 as a proud man. Now, if he reahzes and 
 acknowledges that he is proud, there are 
 great hopes of his ultimate conversion 
 and repentance. But if he refuses even 
 to call it "pride," if, on the contrary, 
 he calls it "firmness" or "courage" or 
 "justice," or any other high-sounding 
 name, — how will he ever fight against it? 
 The very first step in his reformation 
 must be to diagnose his case correctly, 
 and to recognize the truth. Until he can 
 acknowledge to himself, with all sincerity, 
 " I am a proud man," he will never acquire 
 the virtue of true humiHty; no, nor even 
 set out in quest of it. 
 
 Similar observations may be made in 
 many other cases. Take, for instance, 
 any religious duty that we, as Catholics, 
 are called upon to perform, — let us say 
 the duty of fasting or almsgiving. It is 
 astonishing how easily the world will 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 67 
 
 persuade us to neglect it, and on wholly 
 false grounds. To understand the situa- 
 tion, it must be borne in mind that most 
 people suffer far more from eating too 
 much than from eating too little. So 
 eminent a physician as Dr. Vorke Davies, 
 to quote a single authority, says: "There 
 is far more harm done by taking too much 
 food than there is by taking too little, 
 and it is only in very exceptional cases 
 that injury results from the latter cause; 
 whereas an enormous amount of discom- 
 fort, disorder, and disease, and even 
 curtailment of life, arise from excess in 
 eating."* Indeed, it is said that thirty 
 per cent of the diseases for which medical 
 men prescribe, arise from eating too much. 
 Yet people pretend they can not now even 
 abstain ! 
 
 The medical faculty are constantly pre- 
 scribing for persons whose ailments arise 
 (though they seldom venture to say so 
 openly) from over-indulgence. Doctors tell 
 us that the weekly abstinence on Friday, 
 and the occasional fast-days throughout 
 the year, are excellent even from a hygienic 
 point of view, and that any one in ordi- 
 
 * ' 'Foods for the Fat," p. 46. 
 
68 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 narily fair health would be all the better 
 for their observance. But we have not 
 the spirit of self-denial and are unwilling 
 to deprive ourselves of anything; conse- 
 quently, we persuade ourselves that we 
 are far too delicate to follow the Church's 
 prescriptions, and would seriously injure 
 ourselves by taking an ounce less than 
 our appetite demands. " The wish is father 
 to the thought," and will lead us to accept 
 dispensations which we really have no 
 business to seek. Mundus vvlt decipi. 
 The world wishes to be deceived, and so 
 do many of us also. 
 
 We allow ourselves to be similarly 
 cajoled in the matter of almsgiving and 
 the disposal of our wealth. Our bountiful 
 God, in the pages of Holy Writ, fre- 
 quently points out the obligations and the 
 spiritual advantages of giving to those in 
 need. " By charity of the Spirit serve one 
 another," He says;* and, " He who soweth 
 sparingly shall also reap sparingly." f 
 So again: "According to thy ability be 
 merciful. If thou have much, give abun- 
 dantly; if thou have Uttle, take care even 
 so to bestow willingly a Uttle. . . . For 
 
 • GaL, V, 13. t n Cor., fat, 6. 
 
DANGERS OF THB DAY 69 
 
 alms deliver from all sin and from death, 
 and will not suffer the soul to go into 
 darkness."* And many other similar texts 
 occur throughout the Bible. In these 
 words God urges us to lay up for ourselves 
 eternal treasures in heaven, and to make 
 compensation for our innumerable offences 
 and failings; assuring us at the same time 
 that whatever we give to the indigent in 
 His name. He will take as given to Himself. 
 "As long as you did it to one of these 
 My least brethren you did it to Me." 
 
 Now, our spiritual enemies are naturally 
 unwilling that we should reap all the 
 advantages that are so closely bound up 
 with the exercise of generosity and com- 
 passion toward the poor, and will do all 
 they can to dissuade us from carrying 
 out the recommendations of Holy Scrip- 
 ture. Yet, if they are to succeed, they 
 are well aware that they must act very 
 cautiously. They dare not show their hand, 
 by openly condemning that which God 
 commends; so, while admitting the excel- 
 lence of generosity in general and in the 
 abstract, they cunningly suggest a thou- 
 sand plausible reasons which relieve us 
 
 * Tobias, iv, 8-11. 
 
70 DANGERS OF THB DAY 
 
 individually from any such obligation. 
 
 Thus, one man will say: "Oh, I make 
 it a rule never to give anything to a beggar 
 in the street!" Not, of course, because 
 he is ungenerous. No! That must never 
 be even hinted at. But simply because 
 "beggars are always, or nearly always, 
 impostors, and I should be encouraging 
 idleness." Indeed, he will willingly admit 
 that " almsgiving is a most admirable 
 thing, but we must not countenance 
 imposture. Besides, the recipients are 
 sure to spend it in drink." But neither 
 will these men bestow a penny upon 
 beggars who came to their doors. Not 
 because they are unwilling to part with 
 their money — at least, that is not the rea- 
 son they care to allege, — but because " one 
 beggar will attract another, and the 
 constant visits of these tatterdemalions 
 become a regular nuisance. Besides, it 
 would never do to entice tramps and doubt- 
 ful characters about the house." Thus, for 
 one reason or another, they excuse them- 
 selves from giving anything to anybody. 
 
 In some cases a man's income, though 
 considerable enough, is not equal to his 
 pretensions, and he is anxious to keep 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 7 1 
 
 up appearances. He occupies a certain 
 position or rank in society, and every 
 farthing is needed if he is to continue 
 hving in his present style, and to retain 
 his customary staff of servants and 
 dependants. He is really very sorry, or 
 imagines he is. In fact, he does not hesi- 
 tate to say that were he only as wealthy 
 as A or as B, it would be positive joy 
 to him to found hospitals and to erect 
 churches, schools, and orphan asylums. 
 In short, he quite envies millionaires and 
 possessors of colossal fortunes their oppor- 
 tunities and all the good they might do; 
 and consoles himself by thinking how 
 very much more generous he would be 
 than they are, were he but treated half 
 so well by Dame Fortune. But, alas! 
 with his modest revenues, it is as much 
 as he can do to clothe and educate his 
 children, and live up to the requirements 
 of his position. Further, he reflects that 
 he is bound to put something by for a 
 rainy day, and that "it won't do to be 
 improvident." And so, for one specious 
 pretext or another, life passes, and he rests 
 perfectly satisfied, though he never makes 
 any real sacrifice for the sake of God or for 
 
72 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 the sake of His poor suffering brethren. 
 
 Observe, I do not wish to imply that 
 there is never any grain of truth or of 
 reason in the foregoing statement. Quite 
 the contrary. The very danger of such 
 arguments lies precisely in the fact that 
 there is just enough of truth in them to 
 render them effective; just enough reason 
 to quiet our consciences, and to persuade 
 us that all is as it should be. It is a well 
 recognized fact that there is no lie so 
 difficult to deal with as a lie which is half 
 a truth, and great candor is needed to 
 detect its real character. Pure brass we 
 may always know, but when mixed with 
 gold it may often pass for the more 
 precious metal. 
 
 But to continue. Excessive parsimony 
 is simply niggardliness and stinginess. 
 It is not prudence. True. But if we will 
 insist upon calling it prudence, we cover 
 up its hideous deformity, we hide its 
 repulsive nature, and we represent it as 
 a positive virtue. Then, under that guise, 
 we do not hesitate to cultivate and 
 practise it. Instances of self-deception are 
 constantly thrusting themselves under our 
 notice. What are we, for example, to 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 73 
 
 think of a lady who laments in agonizing 
 tones that she really can not afford ten 
 shillings for some starving orphans or 
 destitute children, when we find her a day 
 or two later offering ten guineas in the 
 advertising columns of the Morning Post 
 for the recovery of her lost cat or stolen 
 poodle? Or how shall we fittingly describe 
 a wealthy nobleman whose family claims 
 make it quite impossible for him to send 
 a five pound note to a struggling mission, 
 but who can, nevertheless, afford to bet 
 five hundred pounds on a losing race horse? 
 This system of self-deception pursues 
 us through life, and affects all our relations 
 with the supernatural. Even the most 
 sacred duties are often neglected on 
 account of it; and yet we fail to see 
 through the cunning of the devil, who 
 deceives us. Consider, for instance, the 
 duty of receiving Holy Communion, the 
 greatest of the sacraments, in which Our 
 Lord Himself comes to strengthen our 
 weakness, and to help us by His powerful 
 grace to overcome concupiscence and to 
 vanquish all the enemies of our salvation. 
 The very great importance of this sacra- 
 ment is reason enough to induce the Evil 
 
74 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 One to do all he can to prevent our 
 making use of it. Yet he is far too astute 
 to hint that it is a bad thing to approach 
 the Holy Table. Oh, dear; no! He is 
 much too diplomatic. He declares it to 
 be a most excellent practice, at least in 
 the abstract. He merely throws out 
 doubts as to whether we, with our delicate 
 chest, or with our tendency to bronchitis 
 or asthma, ought to go. He demands, 
 quite casu-illy of course, whether it is 
 " not just a little risky, especially on these 
 cold, raw mornings, to go out fasting." 
 He becomes so very, very solicitous for 
 our health, and would persuade us that 
 we are far too delicate to expose ourselves 
 to catching cold. Perhaps he even recalls 
 to our minds how our medical adviser 
 warned us that we should be more careful, 
 and never leave the house until we had 
 reinforced ourselves by at least a cup of 
 tea and a slice of bread and butter. He 
 may even add that " good people are 
 scarce," and that " prudence is the better 
 part of valor." 
 
 And thus, without alarming us, or 
 creating so much as a suspicion of his 
 perfidy, or uttering even one syllable 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 75 
 
 directly against Communion, which we 
 might resent, he succeeds, all the same, 
 in keeping us from the sacrament. We 
 postpone our Communions till the weather 
 grows warmer and more settled. Weeks 
 develop into months, and what is the 
 consequence? Well! We have deprived 
 ourselves of great graces; we have acquired 
 a habit of postponing our Communions; 
 we come to think less highly of this gift of 
 God; and the end aimed at by the devil is 
 secured quite as fully as if the penal laws 
 against Communion were still in full force. 
 The fallacy of the whole argument, 
 and the measure in which we deceive 
 ourselves, are made manifest by a glance 
 at our conduct in purely worldly matters. 
 Thus, how very often it happens that, 
 though we are too delicate to breathe 
 the morning air, we are not too deli- 
 cate to go out to late dinners or parties, 
 and to come home in the dead of night 
 through the cold, damp atmosphere of 
 the reeking streets! Or we can pass the 
 night in a hot, stuffy ballroom, and dance 
 till the day is dawning, and can then 
 expose ourselves to the inclemency of 
 the weather, on our way home, in the 
 
76 DANGERS OP THE DAY 
 
 early hours, without any one taking us to 
 task for our imprudence. The plain fact 
 is that where ecclesiastical observances 
 and religious duties are concerned, we are 
 influenced and swayed by arguments which 
 are summarily dismissed as utterly trivial 
 and baseless when directed against our 
 pleasures and amusements. In thousands 
 of similar ways we allow ourselves to 
 be cajoled, to our great spiritual hurt. 
 Among so many other instances that 
 suggest themselves, it is difl&cult to make 
 a selection. Perhaps the question of 
 reading may serve our purpose. 
 
 As we are well aware, the book-market 
 is flooded to overflowing with a most 
 varied assortment of literature. There 
 are good books in abundance, but there 
 is also an enormous and ever-increasing 
 assortment of worthless books, — ^books 
 vicious and demoralizing in tendency, 
 and corrupt and depraved in tone; 
 together with tales and stories which are 
 sensuous and immoral, and sometimes 
 obscene. There is nothing useful or really 
 instructive in the class of pubUcations 
 to which I am now referring. They are 
 fuU of hidden dangers, unbecoming con- 
 
DANGERS OP THE DAY 77 
 
 versations, suggestive dialogues between 
 imaginary persons of opposite sexes, of 
 impossible love scenes, and situations of 
 a compromising character, which, even 
 if they do not defile the heart and excite 
 the passions, at all events fill the imagina- 
 tion with impure images and forms, and 
 familiarize the mind with every sort of 
 horror and abomination. There is, of 
 course, a vast difference between one book 
 and another, but it is not too much to say 
 that some of the romances of the present 
 day are such that any really good Catholic 
 would feel bound to leave them severely 
 alone. He can not read them without 
 exposing himself to dangerous tempta- 
 tion. 
 
 Will the world advise the purchase of 
 such scandalous works? Will it openly 
 counsel their perusal? Certainly not. At 
 least, it is far too tactful to express itself 
 in that blunt way; for some of us might 
 resent it. Besides, it may accomplish its 
 evil purpose yet more effectively in another 
 manner; by inquiring, for instance, quite 
 innocently: "Oh, by the way, have you 
 seen So and So's last dehghtfully naughty 
 book?"— "No?"— "Oh, how very odd! 
 
78 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 Why, everybody is talking about it. And 
 it is so very awkward, don't you know, 
 not to be able to join in the conversation! 
 One looks so foolish when one knows 
 nothing about what is on everybody's, 
 hps. Do you say one ought not to read 
 it? Oh, nonsense! It can't be so bad as 
 all that. We are no longer children; and 
 surely we can not be expected, in these 
 days, to live with our head in a well, and 
 to be ignorant of all that is passing around. 
 As well become a recluse altogether, and 
 live on beans in a hermitage," and so 
 forth. And we, gentle readers, alas! are 
 influenced by such banter. Thus, without 
 appearing to approve in the least degree 
 of immoral or infidel books, the devil, 
 nevertheless, manages to get his own 
 way. We read them on some worldly and 
 wholly inadequate pretext; but we read 
 them all the same, and irreparable harm 
 is done. In one word, we are constantly 
 being deluded by those who "put light 
 for darkness, and darkness for Ught." 
 How many a silly worldUng, when he 
 comes to be judged, will find nothing 
 better to say in his defence than to repeat 
 the words of his mother Eve: Serpens 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 79 
 
 decepit me — "The serpent deceived me"!* 
 It is the same everywhere. How often, 
 to take a somewhat different illustration, 
 indecent pictures and statuary are dis- 
 played in drawing-rooms, and in halls 
 of public buildings and even of private 
 houses, on the ground that they administer 
 to ffisthetical taste and promote a love of 
 art! I do not wish to imply that every 
 statue or painting is indecent merely 
 because it is undraped; but I am referring 
 to genuinely indecent and suggestive repre- 
 sentations, whether draped or not. They 
 are a source of much temptation, and 
 often do a great deal of harm; yet they 
 are retained, and left exposed to every 
 eye, on the plea of their artistic merits, 
 and because they are thought to reveal the 
 talents and the genius of some famous 
 wielder of the brush or the chisel. The devil 
 eases the consciences of such exhibitors by 
 laying all the stress on plausible m.otives, 
 and by closing their eyes to the evil; for, 
 provided he can introduce the poison of 
 sin into our minds, he cares little about 
 the nature of the spoon with which he 
 administers the deadly draught. 
 
 * Gen., iii, 13. 
 
8o DANGERS OF THB DAY 
 
 Innumerable other instances might be 
 mentioned, but I have probably presented 
 a sufficient variety to illustrate my theme, 
 and to enable the thoughtful reader to 
 realize the special danger which, at the 
 present day, besets us from this source. 
 It may be well to remark that the present 
 age is an age of deceit. Fraud is practised 
 everywhere. Traders and merchants and 
 sellers do not scruple to deceive their cus- 
 tomers, when they judge they can do so 
 with impunity. The Chamber of Commerce 
 Journal (April, 1907) informs us that 
 "needles made in Germany and Austria 
 are imported into France, and marked 
 'Redditch.' English hosiery is imitated in 
 Germany and sent to America and other 
 countries, marked as British goods. Linen 
 made on the Continent is labelled as Irish 
 linen, and sold in Egypt and other places." 
 In fact, goods of all kinds are offered to 
 the public under false names, to make 
 them sell. Chalk is put in the milk, sand 
 in the sugar, and water in the wine. 
 Paste is passed off for diamonds, shoddy for 
 leather, and cotton for wool. We have lying 
 advertisements, misleading prospectuses, 
 and quack medicines. Every purchaser is 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 8 1 
 
 afraid of being cheated; and in matters 
 of business, commerce, and exchange, a 
 brother can scarcely trust a brother. 
 
 This spirit of deception penetrates every- 
 where, not excepting the supernatural. 
 It affects the minds of unthinking Cath- 
 olics, even as regards their highest spiritual 
 interests, and their duty to God. They 
 grow lax and fall away into easy and 
 negligent ways, simply because they do 
 not, or will not, see things as they really 
 are. They so dress up and disguise evil 
 that they mistake it for good, and call 
 light darkness and darkness light, and 
 deliberately live in an atmosphere of 
 untruth. 
 
 The remedy consists in courageously 
 throwing off the mask of deception which 
 evil still wears, and in beginning at once 
 to call things by their rightful names. Let 
 men learn above all things to know them- 
 selves, and to read their own characters 
 aright; and then they will at least under- 
 stand what is wrong and defective, and 
 what it is precisely that they have to 
 struggle against and overcome. So long 
 as they insist on describing " cheating " as 
 a trick of the trade, and "avarice" as a 
 
82 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 form of thrift, and "pride" as firmness, 
 and "insolence" as courage, and speak 
 similarly of all the other forms of human 
 weakness and wickedness, they do but 
 canonize vice and connive at evil. And 
 unless that habit it reformed but little 
 amendment can be expected. 
 
 Let us, then, arouse ourselves, "knowing 
 that it is now the hour for us to rise from 
 sleep. . . The night is passed and the day 
 is at hand. Let us, therefore, cast off the 
 works of darkness and put on the armor 
 of light. Let us walk honestly, as in the 
 day";* and no longer "call evil good, and 
 good evil; nor put darkness for Ught, nor 
 light for darkness; nor bitter for sweet, 
 nor sweet for bitter." 
 
 * Rom., xiii, 11-13. 
 
IV. 
 
 i i| 
 
 The Inordinate Love of Money. 
 I. 
 
 Iron was his chest, 
 
 Iron was his door, 
 His hand was iron, 
 
 And his heart was more. 
 
 Opes animi irritamen avari. — Ovid. 
 
 KN all ages of the world's history, 
 riches have proved a stumbling- 
 block and a snare. Yet never, 
 perhaps, was the thirst for 
 gold so insatiable, or so widely 
 among all ranks, as at the 
 day. The example of hundreds 
 who have amassed colossal fortunes in a 
 few years, and the continual comments of 
 a ubiquitous press upon the doings and 
 sayings of the many millionaires and 
 multi-millionaires, who scarcely know what 
 to do with their enormous incomes, have 
 sown the seeds of discontent in the hearts 
 of the multitudes, and filled them with a 
 feverish desire to emulate their example. 
 With this end in view, they struggle and 
 strive with all their might and main, and 
 often display an energy and a dogged 
 
 83 
 
 diffused 
 present 
 
84 DANGERS OP THE DAY 
 
 perseverance worthy of a nobler cause. 
 Indeed, money-making not unfrequently 
 becomes the one supreme aim and the 
 one all-ruling ambition of their lives, — 
 their idol and their god. 
 
 Two circumstances have especially con- 
 tributed, in latter years, to give impetus 
 to this sordid passion. The first is a 
 general decline of faith, and a consequent 
 disregard and forgetfulness of the far 
 higher and nobler ends of religion, now 
 alas! supplanted by ignobler and more 
 material ends; and the second is the fact 
 that so much more may now be purchased 
 by riches than formerly. The world has 
 been advancing with rapid strides. Recent 
 inventions and discoveries have placed 
 upon the market a thousand new sources 
 of pleasure and gratification, which excited 
 no desires a few centuries ago, because 
 their very existence was never thought 
 of or imagined. Not only has every want 
 known to our ancestors been fully suppUed, 
 but innumerable fresh appetites have been 
 developed, such as the appetite for foreign 
 travel, for motoring, for new forms of 
 luxury and dissipation, and so forth, — 
 the full gratification of which depends 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 85 
 
 upon the amount of a man's income and 
 the sums he is able to disburse. 
 
 A gigantic fortune places at our feet 
 the world and almost all it contains. We 
 can utilize all its conveniences, we can 
 enter into all its pleasures. In food and 
 clothing and lodging, and in much else, 
 we are in a position to select what we like 
 best, and what is most to our taste, without 
 paying any attention to those prudential 
 considerations that limit and hamper the 
 struggling poor, who, even with the greatest 
 economy, can scarcely purchase the bare 
 necessities of life. 
 
 Whether at home or abroad, whether 
 on land or sea, whether resting or trav- 
 elling, sleeping or waking, money will 
 always procure us many comforts that 
 can be had by no other means. And if 
 money can, in very truth, render us many 
 valuable services, our imagination exag- 
 gerates its powers still further, and is ever 
 ready to attribute to it an omnipotence 
 and an influence far in excess of the reality. 
 In our ignorance, we are apt to regard it 
 as a magic wand whose mere possession 
 will enable us to hold sway over persons 
 as well as things, and to do pretty well 
 
86 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 as we wish. Money holds out the prospect 
 of endless delights, which look feasible 
 enough from a distance, and which only 
 a nearer view shows to be unattainable. 
 But these fair promises, even though they 
 are destined never to be realized, serve, 
 all the same, to stimulate our greed, to 
 excite our cupidity, and to drive spurs 
 into the sides of our intent. Once the 
 fever takes possession of us, we are scarcely 
 masters of ourselves, and push on in 
 thoughtless pursuit, scarcely pausing to 
 reflect that what seems the road to 
 material prosperity may easily prove to 
 be the road to spiritual destitution. 
 
 That riches constitute a real menace to 
 our salvation is proved by a hundred 
 passages from Holy Scripture. Our Lord, 
 who is the Eternal Truth, tells us that " a 
 rich man shaU hardly enter into the king- 
 dom of heaven " ; that it is, in fact, " easier 
 for a camel to pass through the eye of a 
 needle" than for a man of wealth to 
 be saved.* The same doctrine is found 
 running through the texts of the Old 
 Testament. "Gold and silver hath de- 
 stroyed many," says the Wise Man, 
 
 * St. Matt., xix, 23. 24. 
 
DANGERS OP THE DAY 87 
 
 " and hath reached even the heart of 
 kings and perverted them."* And again: 
 "If thou be rich, thou shalt not be free 
 from sin."t And: "There is not a more 
 wicked thing than to love money; for 
 such a one setteth even his own soul for 
 sale."t 
 
 The dangers to our salvation arising 
 from an inordinate love of money are of 
 two kinds. The one set are connected 
 with the pursuit of wealth, the other with 
 its actual possession. Regarding the first, 
 we shall do well to weigh thoughtfully 
 the following inspired words of St. Paul: 
 "They who would become rich fall into 
 temptation and into the snare of the devil, 
 and into many unprofitable and hurtful 
 desires, which drown men in destruction 
 and perdition. For covetousness is the 
 root of all evils, which some desiring, have 
 erred from the faith, and have entangled 
 themselves in many sorrows. "§ 
 
 These are indeed terrif5dng words, and 
 deserving of our most careful attention. 
 To reaUze their full import, we must con- 
 sider the natural character and disposition 
 
 * Eccles., viii, 3. t Ibid., xi, 10. 
 
 t Ibid., X, 10. § I Tim., vi, 9, 10. 
 
88 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 of man, and the mould in which he has 
 been formed. His mind and his affections 
 are essentially limited. Hence it is quite 
 impossible that he should direct the whole 
 current of his will and intelligence to the 
 consideration of one object without with- 
 drawing it from the consideration of every 
 other, however important. The more he 
 concentrates his energy in one direction, 
 the less he will have left to throw in any 
 other. Hence, to be absorbed and filled 
 by one all-mastering resolve means to pay 
 little or no attention to anything else. 
 
 Now, there is scarcely anything in the 
 whole world so fascinating and so exciting, 
 as the hunting after gold. Once a man has 
 been inoculated with this virus he is no 
 longer master of himself. It awakens 
 within him an interest and a thirst that 
 drive him on, almost against his will. 
 Should he meet with any success, and 
 should he find that his credit account 
 at the bank is mounting up, it is all the 
 worse; for this knowledge stirs him up 
 to increased exertions. It sets all his 
 faculties at full tension, as the sight of 
 the fox in the hunting field sets all the 
 hounds and huntsmen in hot pursuit. 
 
DANGERS OP THE DAY 89 
 
 It is generally found that a man's 
 appetite grows with his gains. The mere 
 prospect of acquiring a vaster fortune and 
 wider estates, and the comforts and the 
 influence that flow therefrom, is apt to 
 absorb his thoughts and to diminish every 
 other interest. The desire to heap up 
 riches soon surpasses and eclipses every 
 other desire, and puts to flight all greater, 
 purer, and nobler ambitions. At last his 
 thoughts become so centred and focussed 
 upon material gains that he loses all sense 
 of spiritual and supernatural things. His 
 mind fixes itself on the actualities of the 
 hour, and on those opportunities which 
 offer themselves only at intervals, and 
 which must be watched, and seized so 
 soon as they rise, and which he feels he 
 can not afford to lose. For he knows the 
 harvest must be gathered in at once, if at 
 all. The result is he has no time to bestow 
 upon more vital matters, not even on such 
 as relate to his immortal soul. Soon this 
 eager, anxious pursuit of gold develops 
 into a passion, — often the one ruling 
 passion of his life. 
 
 How can such a person pray or meditate, 
 or peacefully turn his thoughts to God, 
 
go DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 or muse on heavenly things? How can 
 he set aside distractions, and kneel down 
 morning and evening to recollect himself, 
 in calm faith and humility, before the 
 presence of Him who fills both heaven 
 and earth with the majesty of His glory? 
 His brain is seething; his heart beats with 
 nervous anxiety; his thoughts are never 
 in repose. His mind is occupied with 
 bonds and mortgages, and interests and 
 dividends, and securities and scripts, and 
 speculations and bank accounts, and the 
 fluctuations of the Stock Exchange, and 
 a thousand other things related to the 
 acquirement of wealth. 
 
 This is all very well from a purely 
 worldly point of view; but the truth 
 remains that, while he is gathering all the 
 powers of his body and his soul, and 
 marshalling them together, to aid him in 
 raking in the gold, his spiritual interests 
 are bound to suffer irreparable loss. " No 
 man," Christ declares, "can serve two 
 masters. You can not serve God and 
 mammon.',' And this is shown by ex- 
 perience. Unless some restraint be placed 
 on a man's appetite for wealth, it will lead 
 Jiim, first, into a disregard of the practices 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 91 
 
 of piety, then to a sad neglect of his 
 duty toward God, and finally to a gen- 
 eral state of religious indifference and 
 apathy. 
 
 Upon this follow yet more disastrous 
 consequences. As his thirst increases — 
 and it is generally whetted by every 
 success, as a lion's thirst grows more 
 uncontrollable each time it|;has tasted 
 human blood, — the aspirant -after riches 
 grows less scrupulous as to the methods 
 he employs to secure his end. When 
 opportunities of gain present themselves, 
 he stays not to inquire too nicely into the 
 legitimacy of the means; if doubts arise, 
 he immediately brushes them aside, and 
 will justify the "shadiest" proceedings on 
 the plea of custom, or of the example of 
 others whose consciences have grown less 
 timorous than even his own. By degrees 
 he becomes more hardened. Finally he 
 throws off all restraint, and stoops to 
 any piece of trickery and chicanery 
 and to any underhand scheme that 
 seems likely to serve his purpose. He will 
 take a mean advantage of the simple and 
 the confiding, and will calmly allow the 
 orphan and the widow to^,be drained of 
 
92 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 their little savings, provided only that he 
 be the gainer. He may even start bogus 
 companies, and issue false bonds, and 
 spread abroad misleading prospectuses, 
 and descend to other shameful expedients, 
 to induce honest and unsuspecting laborers 
 and men of small fortune to sink their 
 hard-earned gains in mines or railways 
 or exploration schemes, and other enter- 
 prises, so cleverly devised and so cun- 
 ningly manipulated, that he may manage 
 to reap the harvest which his lying tongue 
 has caused them to sow. 
 
 It is appalling to note how invertebrate 
 and elastic grows the conscience of a 
 speculator intent on making money. By 
 disregarding its dictates in small matters, 
 and by silencing it with sophistical argu- 
 ments in great ones, it seems to lose its 
 very power of utterance. Its voice grows 
 less imperious and audible day by day, 
 till at last it becomes as useless, for all 
 practical purposes, as the voice of one 
 cr)ring in the wilderness, a voice and 
 nothing more. 
 
 Alas! there is no doubt that tempta- 
 tions to all kinds of evil practices beset 
 the path of the would-be rich; and so 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 93 
 
 great is the inclination to avail themselves 
 of even dishonest means, that very few 
 seem to possess enough moral courage 
 to offer successful resistance for any 
 length of time, especially where the advan- 
 tages are considerable, and the chances 
 of detection are remote and improbable. 
 Men who are constantly looking out for 
 opportunities of advancing their pecuniary 
 interests find plenty that are disreputable 
 and dishonest, and can seldom make up 
 their minds to pass them by. Too often 
 it is the opportunity that corrupts and 
 blights the strongest virtue. " How oft 
 the chance to do ill deeds makes ill 
 deeds done!" 
 
 But dishonesty, injustice, and unlawful 
 practices form only a small fraction of the 
 evils that follow in the train of the avari- 
 cious. In addition to these, the insatiable 
 thirst for gold is calculated to dry up that 
 fountain within the heart from which 
 flows all that is noblest and best in a man's 
 nature. It causes him to be far more 
 concerned about what he has than about 
 what he is. It leads him by degrees to 
 imagine that external goods and costly 
 and precious surroundings can add some- 
 
94 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 thing to his own intrinsic worth. He takes 
 deUght in earthly rather than in heavenly- 
 treasures, and sets an altogether fictitious 
 value on worldly objects that administer 
 to his bodily ease and comfort. In a 
 word, he becomes earthly and sordid in 
 all his tastes. 
 
 All these effects come to pass the more 
 readily because poor sinful man is, by 
 nature, more inclined to cherish what he 
 can see and handle than what is invisible 
 and impervious to the senses. He is, in 
 fact, a creature of sense. He depends 
 upon sense for almost everything. Not 
 only does his knowledge of this world 
 come to him through the senses, but he 
 is dependent upon sense, at least as a 
 vehicle, for his knowledge even of the next. 
 Does not St. Paul tell us that " faith comes 
 by hearing"? And does not St. Thomas 
 Aquinas teach that even God Himself 
 is known through material things; for, 
 "though He exceeds all sensible things 
 and sense itself, yet His effects, from 
 which we prove His existence, are sen- 
 sible:"^ 
 
 * C. G. i. 1, c. 12. 
 
DANGERS OK THg DAY 95 
 
 The truth is, man is so immersed in 
 sense and so domineered by it, that he is 
 disposed to rest in sense, to seek his 
 happiness, his pleasure, his delights and 
 his recreation in the exercise of sense, and 
 to exclude from his thoughts all considera- 
 tion of the spiritual and the supersensible. 
 If he obeys this tendency instead of 
 resisting it, the consequences will be most 
 disastrous. He will hesitate to sacrifice 
 the present for the sake of the future, and 
 the visible for the invisible. Not only 
 will he refuse to do himself violence to 
 secure heaven and the eternal possession 
 of God, but he will grow so attached to 
 what is earthly and temporal as to deem 
 time that is spent upon anything else 
 wasted and lost. Well may the Apostle 
 say that such persons sometimes end by 
 ■'erring from the faith." 
 
 II. 
 
 But if the mere pursuit of wealth is 
 fraught with so many dangers, its actual 
 possession is equally to be feared; 
 and the reasons are obvious to any one 
 who will pause to reflect. In the first 
 
96 DANGERS OF THB DAY 
 
 place, wealth and wide possessions tend 
 to foster that spirit of pride which, in a 
 greater or lesser measure, is the inheritance 
 of every man. They invest a person with 
 a fictitious importance, not only in his own 
 eyes but in the eyes of others also. God, 
 indeed, looks into the heart and searches 
 its most secret recesses, but man regards 
 only the exterior. The consequence is 
 that one who is waited on by servants and 
 retainers, who lives in a sumptuous palace, 
 who travels about in costly carriages, who 
 is clothed in luxurious apparel, and who 
 exercises a wide-felt authority, too often 
 comes to be regarded as a superior being. 
 He is scarcely thought to belong to the 
 same race as the toihng, moiling multitudes 
 who live in dingy hovels, and who eke out 
 a miserable existence with the uncertain 
 labor of their hands. The honor and 
 flattery that is offered to him he accepts 
 as a right; and his comfort and happiness 
 is considered of much greater importance 
 than that of any of his dependents. He 
 breathes a different atmosphere and Uves 
 in another world. His society is sought 
 after, his acquaintance is valued; and 
 when he goes abroad, women bow low and 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 97 
 
 men take off their hats. All classes vie 
 with one another to show him honor and 
 respect. Men of rank are proud to claim 
 him as a friend; tradesmen seek his 
 patronage with servile obsequiousness; 
 while the impecunious flatter him with 
 honied words, in the hope of receiving 
 something of his bounty. He attracts 
 about him sycophants and soft-tongued 
 followers, who expect to profit by his 
 favor, and who dread to incur his dis- 
 pleasure. Never does he hear the naked, 
 unvarnished truth about himself; yet he 
 listens with pleasure to the most fulsome 
 compliments, accepts adulation as his 
 due, and lives habitually in a region of 
 falsehood and unreality. 
 
 This, of itself, is a most hazardous 
 position to occupy. It will inflict grave 
 injury on his soul, unlesss he possess 
 real humility, and sufficient self-knowl- 
 edge to see through the falsity, and to 
 weigh himself in the balance of the 
 sanctuary. 
 
 Great wealth is a source of much danger 
 also, because it affords endless opportu- 
 nities of self-indulgence, and provides, 
 ready to hand, exceptional facilities for 
 
98 DANGERS OF THB DAY 
 
 gratifying every passion and for com- 
 mitting every crime. The great masses 
 of the industrious poor, laboring for their 
 daily bread, enjoy scanty leisure. They 
 have but little acquaintance with that 
 idleness which "hath taught much evil."* 
 They must be up and doing, and can not 
 afford to fritter away time in sloth and 
 slumber; and Our Lord warns us that 'it 
 is while men sleep that their enemy comes 
 and oversows cockle among the wheat. 'f 
 Work — especially work that is imposed 
 by the very necessities of our position, 
 and that must be got through, if bread is 
 to be won, and the wolf kept from the 
 door — is a powerful bulwark against that 
 tumultuous sea of temptations that besets 
 the indolent rich. The laborer who is 
 guiding the plow through the furrow, 
 or working a compUcated piece of 
 machinery, or making up accounts, 
 has something else to do than to be 
 hatching plots and devising vain things. 
 On the other hand, a rich man who has 
 much leisure and no studious habits, and 
 who cares not to apply himself to any 
 trade or profession, is in a very different 
 
 * Ecdus., xxxiii., 29. t St. Matt., xiii, 25. 
 
DANGERS OP THE DAY 99 
 
 position, and falls an easy prey to the 
 tempter. Should he be swayed by any 
 unlawful passion, the means of satisfying 
 it are within easy reach. Should he desire 
 to vent his spite or jealousy or vindictive- 
 ness, he possesses power enough to do so. 
 If vanity or ostentation be his weakness, 
 he may indulge both the one and the other 
 to his heart's content; or if he be rather 
 a slave to gluttony and to a too great 
 fondness for the delicacies of the table, his 
 wealth enables him to procure the rarest 
 viands and the most recherche wines. 
 If ambition and a desire to attain fame 
 and notoriety urge him on, he has wealth 
 enough to purchase the assistance of 
 others, and can bribe and promise, and 
 so avail himself of the talents and the 
 brains of the hungry thousands, who are 
 venal enough to become his mercenaries. 
 Not only can the impure secure victims 
 to sacrifice on the altar of their lusts, but 
 even the would-be murderer, who is afraid 
 to redden his own hands in the blood of 
 another, may often find scoundrels base 
 enough to accomplish his purpose, if only 
 he chooses to make it worth their while. 
 In short, there is scarcely an evil desire 
 
lOO DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 or a base passion of any kind the indul- 
 gence of which is not rendered easier and 
 readier by the presence of wealth. As 
 England's greatest poet says: "If gold 
 go first, then all ways lie open." 
 
 This statement might be illustrated 
 from many a page of bygone history; but 
 we must refrain from lingering any longer 
 upon this point, as so many others claim 
 our attention. One of these, is the cir- 
 cumstance that riches are apt to entangle 
 their owners in many spiritual difficulties, 
 from which only the truly conscientious 
 can escape with any success. Great wealth 
 means great responsibility. God demands 
 a rigid account of the gifts He confers, 
 whether they be natural or supernatural, 
 physical or intellectual. "Unto whomso- 
 ever much is given, of him much shall 
 be required." 
 
 A man of great fortune, who occupies 
 a prominent position in the world, and is 
 looked up to by servants, tenants and 
 dependents, will have to render to the 
 Supreme Judge a very different account 
 from that of the multitudes who earn their 
 bread by the sweat of their brows, and live 
 lives comparatively hidden and unknown. 
 
DANGERS OF TH^ DAY lOI 
 
 Even if such obscure members of society- 
 should, in some cases, misbehave and act in 
 a disreputable manner, their evil example is 
 observed by few; and even when noticed, 
 attracts few imitators. This can not be 
 said of the man of wealth. He is raised 
 above the ordinary level of the masses. 
 He stands on a kind of pedestal. He is a 
 spectacle to all eyes, and the observed of 
 all observers. His life is, to a large extent, 
 a public life. His deeds and his sayings 
 are before the world. They are chronicled 
 in the daily press, and rumor is ever busy 
 with his name. 
 
 If he acts his part nobly, he will be an 
 immense power for good; if not, he will be 
 an immense power for evil. If he is con- 
 spicuous for his justice and honesty in 
 dealing with others; if he is known to 
 scorn to do an ignoble deed; if he proves 
 himself to be a loving son, a faithful 
 husband, a devoted father, a loyal citizen, 
 a stanch friend — true to his country, his 
 Church, and his God, — he is not merely 
 honored and respected by all whose 
 approval is worth having, but he becomes 
 a leader even without being conscious of 
 it. Men instinctively admire him. They 
 
I02 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 are moved by his presence; they are 
 swayed by his example; they are sensibly 
 impressed by the dignity and nobility of 
 Ms bearing; they recognize him as one of 
 Nature's true gentlemen, who has learned 
 the great art of mastering himself, of 
 ruling his passions, and of subduing all 
 liis evil inclinations. His strong person- 
 ality exercises a powerful influence over 
 all who know him. It is a constant 
 reproach to such as are following a loose 
 and dissolute career, and a perpetual 
 encouragement to such as are aiming at 
 virtue and truth. His Ufe, in a word, 
 serves as an object-lesson from which 
 they are constantly drawing valuable 
 deductions. It seems to beckon them 
 upward and onward, it stimulates their 
 better feelings, it plants in their own 
 hearts the seeds of a nobler ambition, and 
 enkindles the flames of higher aspirations. 
 But a bad man in a high position exer- 
 cises an influence which is diametrically the 
 reverse of all this. Such a one may truly 
 be said to enter into partnership with 
 the devil himself. Whether consciously or 
 unconsciously, he acts as the decoy of the 
 Evil One, and becomes a destroyer of souls, 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 103 
 
 than which nothing is more abominable. 
 His example lends a sanction to the evil 
 deeds of others; it encourages them in 
 their nefarious designs; it strengthens 
 their crooked wills, and serves to hasten 
 their steps along the downward path that 
 can end only in the abyss. 
 
 Indeed, there is something peculiarly 
 contagious about evil. It spreads like a 
 disease, and contaminates thousands. As 
 a single rotten apple, if suffered to remain, 
 will convey the germs of rottenness to 
 every other that comes in contact with it, 
 so will one bad character, especially if 
 he be wealthy and powerful, injure and 
 demoralize all who are dependent upon 
 him, or who associate with him. So far 
 from turning to good account the talents 
 entrusted to him by God, he altogether 
 fails to recognize his responsibilities, and 
 employs those talents to waste, to 
 devastate and to destroy. 
 
 Terrible beyond expression will be the 
 account to be rendered one day to the 
 infinite Judge, since He will punish us not 
 only for the offences of which we ourselves 
 have been guilty, but also for the sins of 
 others to which we have been accessory. 
 
I04 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 or which we have encouraged or occa- 
 sioned by our own scandalous conduct. 
 Should others be condemned eternally 
 because of crimes of which we have been 
 the instigators and the chief cause, it will 
 go hard with us in the latter day, when 
 God will judge each one according to his 
 works. " Woe to the world because of 
 scandals!"* exclaims Our Lord. These 
 words sound alarming enough: but more 
 terrible by far are those that follow: 
 "Whosoever shall scandalize one of these 
 little ones that believe in Me, it were 
 better for him that a millstone were 
 hanged about his neck and he were cast 
 into the sea."t 
 
 Other obstacles which piety and holiness 
 encounter in wealth are the many cares 
 and anxieties to which it gives birth. The 
 mere administration of a large property 
 is a grievous burden and a constant 
 trouble. If a man, besides being rich, is 
 also a man of business and superintends 
 everything himself, he soon discovers that 
 this runs away with a great portion of 
 his time, and keeps him preoccupied, 
 distracted, and little disposed to spiritual 
 
 * St. Matt., xviii, 7, t St. Mark, ix, 41, 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY • 105 
 
 contemplation. If, on the contrary, he 
 employs agents and underlings to do this 
 necessary work for him, his position is 
 very little improved; for he never really 
 knows how far they have his interests at 
 heart, or how things are being managed 
 or mismanaged, or whether he is being 
 cheated or deceived instead of being 
 honestly served. And thus he is ever 
 anxious and ill at ease. In short, whatever 
 way we look at it, we are forced to admit 
 that a man with so many interests and 
 cares tugging at his heart-strings can 
 scarcely give to divine things the same 
 calm, thoughtful attention that can be 
 given by one free from such responsibilities. 
 But it may be objected: If money is 
 such a worry, why do men so cling to it? 
 The answer is because they think chiefly 
 of the pleasures that are associated with 
 it, and not of the cares; they contemplate 
 the roses and not the thorns, though the 
 thorns remain to prick and harass long 
 after the roses have withered away. And 
 this at once suggests another obstacle that 
 wealth puts in the path of the rich. It 
 leads them, little by little, to seek their 
 happiness in the present rather than in 
 
lo6 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 the future, and causes them to forget that 
 this earth is but a place of pilgrimage and 
 a valley of tears, and that, as the Apostle 
 says, "we have not here a lasting city." 
 Man is in very truth made to be happy. 
 God has created him with capacities for 
 enjoyment so vast that we can not measure 
 them. This is evident from the fact that 
 He has created him for Himself. Man's 
 supreme beatitude is to know, love, and 
 possess God for evermore. And because 
 such is his high destiny, he finds within 
 himself a natural thirst for happiness. 
 He is fully conscious of the feeling, even 
 when he knows not whence it comes or 
 whereof 'tis born. All desire happiness, 
 all seek it, all are strongly attracted by 
 it; but very few know where to find 
 it or even to look for it, and least of all 
 those who spend their days in affluence 
 and ease. Money supplies so many other 
 wants that they fancy it will supply this 
 also. The consequence is they use their 
 wealth to purchase, first one coveted 
 object, and then another; they surround 
 themselves with every bodily comfort, 
 and deny themselves no delight that 
 lies within reach. They build themselves 
 
DANGERS OF THB DAY 1 07 
 
 lordly mansions, they fill them with the 
 costliest furniture and the finest works 
 of art; they clothe and adorn their poor 
 perishable bodies with the finest products 
 of every country; make a study of the 
 culinary art, and eat and drink as though 
 eating and drinking were the chief, if not 
 the whole, duty of man. In short they 
 seek to make their heaven here below, and 
 so fix their affections upon this world that 
 they have no appetite for anything higher 
 or more spiritual. The disastrous effects of 
 this may be easily gauged by any one who 
 considers man's composite nature, and the 
 dangerous consequences of indulging one 
 part at the expense of the other. 
 
 Man is made up of spirit and body, and 
 his real and true happiness, even in this 
 life, depends upon the due subordination 
 of the lower to the higher. The freer 
 the mind is left to exercise its noblest 
 faculties, the more easily it can soar 
 above material and perishable things; and 
 the less it is oppressed by the body, the 
 greater become its chances of happiness. 
 Man's fleshy envelope is far from being 
 the whole of man. It is not even his 
 
I08 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 noblest part: it is but a menial and a 
 servant, and should be treated as such. 
 Those who treat it otherwise learn in 
 time to mourn over their folly. Even 
 were it possible to render the body perfect 
 in every organ and sound in every limb, 
 that of itself would be incapable of bringing 
 any real content. Why? Because it leaves 
 man's chief part, the soul, untouched. 
 Bodily health can not restore peace to 
 an evil conscience, or bring hope to one 
 in despair. It has no power, as the poet 
 says, to 'minister to a mind diseased," 
 or to "pluck from the memory a rooted 
 sorrow." 
 
 Utterly does he fail to touch the real 
 source of the evil, who touches not the 
 soul. Man's true happiness is in the mind; 
 consequently, to attempt to create a state 
 of happiness by multiplying physical 
 pleasures, would be as idle as to seek to 
 cure a cancer, by merely hiding it under 
 a silken bandage. Money has power over 
 only what is material and earthly, like itself. 
 It may effect a change in the outward 
 appearance of things; it may make a 
 display which will excite the envy of 
 others; it may multiply costly objects 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 109 
 
 about and around us; but all such rem- 
 edies are futile and incapable of affecting 
 the soul itself, which will suffer and starve 
 and waste away amid the greatest mate- 
 rial abundance, as a lion will die of want 
 even in a granary bursting with corn. 
 
 To realize this is given to few. The vast 
 majority are foolish enough to imagine 
 that they can heal a wound which is purely 
 spiritual by applications which are purely 
 material. They have not correctly diag- 
 nosed their complaint; so that, instead of 
 having recourse to the true remedy, they 
 waste their time in multiplying useless 
 prescriptions. The heaven on earth, upon 
 which they have set their hearts, is never 
 reached, for it has no existence; yet in 
 pursuing this false end they forfeit their 
 true end, and wantonly sacrifice the 
 substance for the sake of the shadow. 
 
 Another distemper that riches breed is 
 selfishness and a want of sympathy for 
 others. It is a melancholy truth that one 
 who has all that his heart desires, and who 
 has never known the agony of want, and 
 the thousand and one sorrows and priva- 
 tions that fall to the share of the poor, 
 seldom forms any idea of the bitterness 
 
no DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 of their lot. From want of personal 
 experience, he has not learned how to 
 compassionate his brethren in distress. 
 Having all that he requires, and indeed far 
 more than he really needs, he troubles him- 
 self little about any one else. Like Dives 
 in the Gospel, he himself is well clothed 
 and fed, and is too much taken up with 
 his own comforts to look with an)rthing 
 but contemptuous indifference at Lazarus, 
 the poor beggar, who lies perishing for 
 want at his door. He utterly forgets that 
 the rich are but the stewards and agents 
 of God; that wealth which is misapplied 
 or devoted to sinful purposes can yield 
 to its owner nothing but misfortune; 
 that generosity and a large-handed charity 
 should characterize those whom Provi- 
 dence has placed in easy circumstances; 
 and that, while the poor are to win heaven 
 by their forbearance and patience and 
 resignation, under their many trials and 
 tribulations, the rich are to win the same 
 end by the generosity of their alms. 
 
 From the foregoing considerations it is 
 clear that wealth, both in the getting and 
 in the possessing, is attended by many 
 dangers; and that the path of the pros- 
 
DANGERS 0-e THE DAY III 
 
 perous is beset with countless difficulties. 
 By God's grace, they may, of course, 
 be overcome, and even turned to good 
 account. We have before us, even at the 
 present day, many splendid examples of 
 men as rich in virtue as in gold, whose 
 noble souls are proof against all the 
 seductions to which we have referred, — 
 men who make an excellent use of their 
 vast incomes, and who, by conquering 
 covetousness, have raised themselves to 
 exceptional heights of virtue. But such 
 cases are exceptions, not the rule. Whether 
 the difficulties are overcome or not, 
 the fact remains: riches, in themselves, 
 constitute a grave danger and a con- 
 tinuous temptation, against which we 
 must needs be ever upon our guard: 
 "There is not a more wicked thing than 
 to love money." Further, it may be 
 observed, in conclusion, that there is very 
 little of real worth to be obtained by gold. 
 
 To purchase heaven, has gold the power? 
 Can gold remove the mortal hour? 
 In life, can love be bought with gold? 
 Are friendship's pleasures to be sold? 
 No! All that's worth a wish, a thought, 
 Fair virtue gives, unbrib'd, unbought. 
 Cease, then, on trash thy hopes to bind. 
 Let nobler views engage thy mind.'*' 
 
 '*' Dr. Johnson. 
 
V. 
 
 Indiscriminate Reading. 
 
 We find wit in poetry; in philosophy, profoundness; 
 in mathematics, acuteness; in history, vvonder of events; 
 in oratory, sweet eloquence; in di-.inity, supernatural 
 light and devotion, as so many rich metals in their 
 proper mines. — Bishop Hall. 
 
 I grieve to know that, on the tables in families and 
 homes where the Name of God is honored, there lie 
 books which ought to be burned — ay, and burned witli 
 the marks of pubhc infamy; burned not simply that 
 they may disappear in smoke, but that they may be 
 gibbeted and condemned by the detestation of all pure- 
 minded men and women. — Henry E. Cardinal .Manning. 
 
 jN bygone years, when the 
 population of the world was 
 comparatively small, the vast 
 majority of men were satisfied 
 to communicate with one 
 another by word of mouth. It is true 
 that some few, here and there, who could 
 wield the pen, would set their thoughts 
 down on paper; but not one person in 
 a hundred could have interpreted their 
 calligraphy, however fairly done, since 
 the art of reading, like the art of writ- 
 ing, was an accomplishment confined 
 almost entirely to the leisured and the 
 learned. The means of communication, 
 not only between country and country. 
 
DANGERS OF THIS DAY 1 13 
 
 but even between town and town in the 
 same country, were difficult and uncertain, 
 and exceedingly slow. Of course there was 
 no post; and as the usual system, when 
 important announcements had to be made, 
 was to dispatch a special messenger, on 
 foot or on horseback, it was generally left 
 to him to convey the news and to express 
 the message in his own rude way. It is 
 not surprising, then, that epistolary cor- 
 respondence should have been somewhat 
 at a discount. 
 
 Gradually, as greater facilities of getting 
 about from place to place were afforded, 
 and as more serviceable roads and more 
 reliable coaches, running between given 
 places at stated intervals, were put at 
 the disposal of the general public, letter 
 writing became more feasible, and conse- 
 quently much miore popular also. Friends 
 began to keep up a more or less regular 
 correspondence with one another, and 
 thus the " new^s-sheet " — the forerunner, of 
 our daily paper — came into existence. 
 Still, there was no strong incentive to 
 literary work. 
 
 But time wore on. Mankind kept 
 multiplying all over the land. Hundreds 
 
114 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 became thousands, thousands grew into 
 millions, and into tens and hundreds 
 of millions. At last, with the constant 
 increase of population, there arose an 
 urgent need, such as had never been felt 
 before, of a more perfect, a more expedi- 
 tious, and a more general system for the 
 diffusion of thought. This need was felt 
 in every quarter, and various unsuccessful 
 attempts were made to meet it. Finally, 
 after many futile efforts and impracticable 
 experiments had been repeated throughout 
 a period extending over several genera- 
 tions, the foundations of the present art 
 of printing were securely laid. Once the 
 discovery had been made, it grew rapidly, 
 and became more and more developed 
 and improved, until now, aided by the 
 thousand mechanical contrivances of the 
 day, it has attained a degree of perfection 
 that has far exceeded all expectation, and 
 leaves little more to be desired. 
 
 In our own time the printing press does 
 its work more rapidly, more accurately, 
 and more beautifully than it ever did 
 before. It multiplies copies of books, 
 periodicals, and papers at a rate that 
 seems almost magical; and is thus able 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY II 5 
 
 without difficulty and in an incredibly 
 short time, to place an author's thoughts 
 and sentiments within reach of millions 
 of readers. Day by day, in all parts of 
 the world, it is turning out an inexhaust- 
 ible stream of literature of one kind or 
 another. It creates a river broad and 
 deep, with endless tributaries that never 
 cease to flow, and that percolate into every 
 nook and corner of the civilized world. 
 In brief, from a mere nothing it has 
 grown into a stupendous power that is 
 ever influencing the world, and shaping 
 and moulding the opinions of men, — 
 perhaps, indeed, to a much greater extent 
 than is generally realized. For while, on 
 the one hand, persons of all conditions 
 and walks of life now read, and read much, 
 on the other hand, extremely few ever 
 pause to reflect and inwardly digest the 
 mass of matter that is set before them. 
 Either they have not the time, amid 
 all the hurry and bustle of life; or, if 
 they have the time, they have not the 
 desire or the inclination so to exert them- 
 selves; or should neither time nor 
 inclination be wanting, then they lack the 
 requisite aptitude and capacity, and find 
 
Il6 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 it simpler and easier to let others do their 
 thinking for them, just as they let others 
 build their houses and cook their food. 
 As a result, the opinions, views, judg- 
 ments and thoughts of the world are 
 colored to a considerable extent by the 
 literature of the day, more especially by 
 the ephemeral literature; and that, as we 
 all know, is extremely heterogeneous. It 
 is a strange mixture of good and bad and 
 indifferent; and includes, in ever -varying 
 proportions, the useful, the useless, and 
 the downright pernicious. 
 
 To read or even to take note of every- 
 thing that comes from the press has long 
 since become an impossibility. We are 
 constrained, from the very nature of the 
 case, to make some sort of selection. But 
 how? What principles should guide us? 
 There is no doubt that we should choose 
 our books with the same care and on 
 the same principles with which we 
 choose our friends and companions. In 
 fact, a book or a paper is a friend. The 
 volume between our hands speaks to us 
 just as a friend does, oftentimes even with 
 greater freedom and straightforwardness. 
 It informs, it argues, it influences, per- 
 
DANGERS OF THB DAY 117 
 
 suades and entreats, in precisely the same 
 manner. Nay, more: it can attract us to 
 virtue or entice us to vice; counsel good 
 or counsel evil; delight us by its breadth 
 of view and nobleness or purpose, or shock 
 us by its looseness of speech, its immor- 
 ality, its profanity, or its vulgarity, just 
 as the living voice. 
 
 We are commanded to avoid bad com- 
 pany, to fly from evil associates as from 
 the fangs of a poisonous serpent, and to 
 shun all occasions of sin. This obligation to 
 keep out of harm's way, as we value our 
 own soul, is consequently as stringent and 
 as binding upon us in the matter of books 
 as of persons. How could it be otherwise? 
 For, though the press is a tremendously 
 powerful engine, it is quite as much at 
 the service of the wicked as of the good; 
 and it would seem that in these days the 
 wicked are even more ready and more 
 zealous in availing themselves of it than 
 are the good and the virtuous. 
 
 So soon as we allow ourselves to wander 
 at will over the vast field of general liter- 
 ature, we find ourselves upon dangerous 
 ground, so that great prudence as well as 
 great self-restraint will be needed if we 
 
Il8 DANGERS OF THB DAY 
 
 are to thread our tortuous way without 
 being contaminated and besmirched. The 
 misfortune is that there is so much to 
 attract us in what is evil. The mere knowl- 
 edge that a fruit is forbidden is almost 
 enough, of itself, to excite an immediate 
 desire to taste it.* The secret drawer is 
 always the one we are most anxious to 
 pull open; and the hidden treasure, the 
 treasure we deem best worth finding. 
 Besides, error is apt to clothe itself in an 
 attractive garb of novelty and freshness, 
 which truth — constant, changeless, ever- 
 lasting truth — can never wear. To every 
 doubt and to every problem there can be 
 but one sound and reliable answer, but 
 the unsound and unreliable and false 
 answers are innumerable. They are of 
 all colors and complexions, and may be 
 served up so as to suit any inquirer, how- 
 ever perverted his taste and jaundiced his 
 judgment. Hence, a writer, whether of 
 
 * See Grou's "Interior Souls," p. 105. 
 This is so n9,tural — so unsupematuial — that 
 even Punch makes fun of it: 
 
 Bookseller; What kind of a book do you wish, 
 young lady? 
 
 Miss SwEETTHiNG: O pleasc — ah — something one should 
 not read, you know! 
 
DANGERS OK THE DAY II9 
 
 history or philosophy or religion, who has 
 a purpose to serve and " an axe to grind," 
 and who is insensible to the claims of 
 truth, possesses for the alluring and 
 misleading and cajoling of the unwary 
 reader a thousand means which are not 
 at the service of those who are ruled by 
 higher principles. 
 
 While we rejoice greatly at the splendid 
 opportunities afforded by modern inven- 
 tions and mechanical appliances, we can 
 not altogether close our eyes to the in- 
 famous purposes to which they are often 
 prostituted. Cavilers and calumniators 
 have taken a mean advantage of these 
 extended facilities for circulating thought, 
 so that we experience much dif&culty in 
 arriving at the truth even about our own 
 age and country. It has been well said 
 that "for one paper that fosters good 
 feeling and good understanding between 
 nations, by trying rightly to inform its 
 neighbors, and to study them without 
 reservations, many spread defamation and 
 distrust. What unnatural and dangerous 
 currents of opinion they set in motion, 
 and for what false alarms and malicious 
 interpretations of words and facts are they 
 
I20 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 responsible! ... In politics, finance, busi- 
 ness, even in science, religion, art and 
 literature, there is everywhere disguise, 
 trickery, and wire-pulling; one view for 
 the public, another for the initiated." 
 
 The American-Spanish war, which many 
 think as little honorable to the conquerors 
 as to the conquered, is said to have been 
 brought about by the influence of the 
 so-called "yellow press," while some have 
 ascribed the assassination of President 
 McKinley to the same mischievous cause. 
 
 Mr. Georges Maze-Sencier assures us, 
 in the Correspondant, that the present 
 perturbed and fermented condition of 
 French social and political life is due to 
 the corruptions of the French newspapers. 
 Editors pander to the blind passions of 
 their readers; they arouse hatred and 
 envy in the masses against the classes; 
 they set forth in glowing colors anti- 
 militarism, internationalism, and socialism, 
 as remedies for poverty and inequality 
 of fortune; while anti-clericalism is repre- 
 sented to be the sole method of escaping 
 the so-called oppressions and exactions of 
 the Church. The same writer afi&rms that 
 it is the unscrupulous French papers that 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 121 
 
 are responsible for the agitation against 
 the Church, which is threatening to drown 
 France beneath an ocean of infidelity and 
 irreligion. 
 
 " These journals," he writes, " propose to 
 procure the eternal triumph of lyiberty 
 and Reason, in order to secure the com- 
 plete destruction of the Church by a 
 relentless anti-clerical crusade. By cler- 
 icalism they mean what they affirm to be 
 an indissoluble league between capitalists 
 and clericals; for the capitalists, in order 
 to carry on their dishonest transactions, 
 have need of clericalism, which besots the 
 brain of the masses by preaching resig- 
 nation and obedience. With unwearied 
 reiteration, one affirmation is being dinned 
 into the ears of the French people by the 
 French press — namely, that the Catholic 
 Church, far from educating the people, 
 far from serving the people's interests, far 
 from having organized in the country an 
 economic system that was not insupport- 
 able, kept the peasant and the workingman 
 up to the time of the Revolution in the 
 direst subjection, in utter degradation 
 and want." 
 
 Similar statements might be made con- 
 
122 DANGERS OF THB DAY 
 
 cerning the influence of the press in other 
 countries, but it is unnecessary to multiply 
 instances. We have said suflEicient for our 
 purpose. But perhaps our note of warn- 
 ing will ring clearer and more effectively 
 if, instead of speaking in generalities, we 
 consider, under their respective headings, 
 the specific sources of danger arising from 
 the press, and deal with them one by one. 
 
 All books, magazines, papers, and other 
 publications, fall under one of two heads: 
 they are good or bad, innocent or harmful. 
 With the good we are not now concerned, 
 except it be to encourage their perusal as 
 earnestly as possible. The bad, which it 
 is to be feared are much the more numer- 
 ous, may be conveniently divided into 
 three categories. First come those which 
 assail morals; secondly, those which assail 
 divine Faith; and, thirdly, those which 
 are simply frivolous and frothy, — by which 
 we mean books which do not directly 
 suggest or encourage evil, but which, 
 nevertheless, waste our time, dissipate 
 our minds, and occupy hours which might 
 be much more profitably employed. We 
 will speak of these first. 
 
 They consist for the most part of 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 1 23 
 
 silly novels and novelettes, and holiday 
 sketches, and nonsense books, and of 
 fantastic and extravagant tales, full of 
 idle chatter and unilluminating dialogues 
 between unreal persons; books which 
 have nothing in them to arouse our better 
 feelings, and whose heroes and heroines 
 would never inspire us with a new idea, 
 or add one iota to our stock of knowledge, 
 even though they prattled on till the final 
 crack of doom. These sentimental tales 
 repeat, in a thousand different ways, the 
 billings and the cooings of very common- 
 place persons in a very commonplace 
 manner, unrelieved by any newness of 
 thought, beauty of diction, or elegance 
 of expression. 
 
 Unnumbered multitudes of these trashy 
 narratives issue from the press every 
 year. They exist because they supply an 
 unfortunate demand. They are produced, 
 like shilling razors or shoddy shoes, simply 
 to sell. It is not even intendeid that they 
 should convey any instruction or teach 
 any lesson, but only that they should 
 while away an hour or two, and help idle 
 people to kill time. Most of them are vile 
 compositions, born of an imagination that 
 
124 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 has not yet learned to soar, and made 
 up of incidents spun from the morbid 
 conscience of some love-sick poetaster or 
 maudlin sentimentalist. 
 
 There is no great harm in using such 
 rubbish in moderation, and for purposes 
 of simple recreation and relaxation of 
 mind, — for we are not now supposing 
 them to contain any suggestions contrary 
 to faith or morals. The whole danger here 
 lies in excess. And this danger undoubt- 
 edly exists. There are, indeed, persons 
 without much vigor of mind, who find 
 every intellectual effort fatiguing; these 
 are apt to indulge too largely in writings 
 whose sole recommendation is that they 
 make no serious demand upon the atten- 
 tion of the reader, never moving him 
 but carrying him along from chapter to 
 chapter without any exertion of head or 
 heart. 
 
 There are many persons in these days, 
 more especially ladies, who consecrate far 
 too much of their time to this form of 
 amusement. They are to be found con- 
 tinually poring over some inane novel or 
 foolish romance, wholly insensible of the 
 positive harm they are doing themselves, — 
 
DANGERS OF THB DAY 1 25 
 
 a harm which is twofold. In the first 
 place, valuable hours are squandered, and 
 many important duties are in consequence 
 either wholly neglected or else only hurried- 
 ly and imperfectly discharged. In the 
 second place, a most undesirable and 
 unhealthy craving for light, frothy reading 
 is formed, a craving which soon unfits 
 them for what is good, solid and serious. 
 They impair their mental palate, and end 
 by feeling as little hunger for instructive 
 and profitable study as a schoolboy, who 
 has accustomed himself to live on froth, 
 souffles, and whipped cream, feels for the 
 ordinary strong meats of a healthy man. 
 
 The frittering away and the wasting of 
 precious hours over foolish publications 
 is not only deplorable in itself, but it is 
 especially reprehensible in one who admits 
 the tremendous responsibilities of life, 
 who realizes that time once lost never 
 returns, and who candidly confesses that 
 for every misspent moment a strict 
 account will one day have to be rendered. 
 
 To the next category of bad books 
 belong all such as are directly immoral in 
 themselves, or at least in their general tone 
 and tendency. At the present day there 
 
126 DANGERS OF THB DAY 
 
 exists an entire department of literature 
 which openly and unblushingly attacks 
 the most sacred obligations of Christian 
 marriage, and which wages an unholy war 
 upon the most fundamental principles of 
 family life. It does not hesitate to justify 
 practices which God forbids, and to advo- 
 cate and approve means and methods 
 which lead to race - suicide and all the 
 abominations that are connected with it. 
 We refer to such practices as St. Paul 
 denounces in the first chapter of his letter 
 to the Romans, and which it seems to 
 be the aim of certain degenerate authors 
 to resuscitate and reinstate. Of these 
 unsavory subjects we shall not speak, lest 
 we should pollute our lips and offend the 
 modesty of our readers. Nor is there any 
 reason. They stand self-condemned, and 
 no Catholic who respects himself would 
 soil his fingers by touching a book that 
 deals with them. 
 
 Non ragiamo di Lor' ; 
 Ma guarda e passa. 
 
 No ! It is rather our purpose to put the 
 reader on his guard against works which 
 do not carry their own condemnation so 
 clearly written on every page. We wish 
 
DANGERS OF THB DAY 127 
 
 to warn him against the dangers of certain 
 works of fiction, whose main attraction 
 consists in long and minute descriptions 
 of the tender passion, v/hich for many 
 minds possess an extraordinary power of 
 seduction. They present to us the love- 
 sick maiden, who is, of course, always 
 young and fair and interesting, and her 
 faithful or unfaithful wooer, as the case 
 may be. About their young lives is 
 skilfully woven a tangled web of romance 
 and poetry and fashion, which awakens our 
 interest and kindles our imagination to the 
 highest pitch of excitement. Then, as 
 the plot slowly develops before our eyes, 
 with all its varied incidents and surprises, 
 various sentiments of sympathy or of 
 resentment or of indignation or of anger 
 take possession of us, and we waste our 
 emotions and expend our strongest and 
 noblest feelings on persons and sufferings 
 which are as purely imaginary and un- 
 substantial as the creations of a dream. 
 
 In due course are represented the most 
 harrowing scenes, in which unseemly 
 dialogues are carried on, with the usual 
 accessories of sighs and tears, and lovers' 
 quarrels, and dramatic 'asides," and 
 
128 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 stage settings all complete. As we are 
 hurried along frora chapter to chapter, 
 we are sometimes invited to contemplate 
 the most indelicate, not to say sugges- 
 tive, situations. Graphic descriptions of 
 courting and coquetting and of illicit 
 love-making, drawn in highly colored 
 language, fill page after page; together 
 with highly-spiced and even improper 
 conversations, in which an evil art ad- 
 ministers to the morbid curiosity and stirs 
 up the worst passions of the reader. The 
 presumptuous, who succumb to the low 
 attractions of such literature, sink readily 
 from bad to worse; they soon cease to be 
 satisfied with the ordinary exhibitions of 
 the affections and the attractions between 
 the sexes, as they appear among decent 
 people, and begin to thirst for what is 
 more piquant and sensational, until at last 
 they are not content unless they are 
 wallowing in the filth and obscenity pro- 
 vided by the most licentious composers 
 of the day. They speedily lose all sense of 
 modesty, will revel in tales and anecdotes 
 of a distinctly unsavory and highly 
 objectionable character, and will greedily 
 seize upon those revolting publications 
 
DANGERS OP THS DAY 129 
 
 of the hour in which all the ordinary 
 laws of decorum and reticence are set 
 aside, and where vice appears enthroned, 
 naked, and unashamed. 
 
 An immense number of "shilling 
 shockers" and "penny dreadfuls" flood 
 the market, and find readers in abundance 
 greedy and anxious to devour them. For 
 there is very little of the spirit of denial in 
 the world, and each one seems disposed to 
 do "what seemeth good in his own eyes." 
 Some will try to flatter themselves that 
 they receive no harm from feeding on such 
 garbage, but in this they do but prove their 
 proficiency in the art of self-deception. 
 Writings such as we refer to are exceed- 
 ingly perilous. They are hotbeds of temp- 
 tations, to which not even the strongest 
 can expose himself with impunity. They 
 arouse the passions, they heat the imagina- 
 tion and set it on fire, and conjure up a 
 thousand impure and suggestive images 
 before the mind, — those lascivious spectres 
 which it is so immeasurably easier to call 
 up than to lay. The least among the 
 deplorable consequences that follow are 
 that the heart is defiled, the senses are 
 
I30 DANGERS OF THB DAY 
 
 stirred, and the whole soul is left troubled 
 and ill at ease. 
 
 No one possessing any experience either 
 as a confessor or as a director of souls will 
 deny that an impure form or an indeli- 
 cate situation, especially when it is 
 artistically drawn, cleverly described, and 
 vividly pictured in glowing words, will 
 sometimes leave an impression on the 
 incautious reader for a lifetime, and be a 
 source of frequent trouble and regret to 
 the end. It will obtrude itself upon his 
 thoughts at the most inopportune moments, 
 distract him at prayer and meditation, 
 and challenge his powers of attention even 
 when assisting at Mass, and receiving the 
 Sacraments. Even so great a saint as St. 
 Jerome, leading a penitential life in the 
 desert, was haunted in spite of himself, 
 by the sights and scenes he had witnessed 
 years before, while residing in pagan Rome. 
 If St. Paul, speaking under inspiration, 
 distinctly tells us that such things should 
 " not so much as be named among you, as 
 becometh saints,"* what would he say of 
 those Catholics who not merely name them, 
 but who dwell intently upon them, and 
 
 * Eph., V, 3. 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 131 
 
 who do SO deliberately and repeatedly and 
 without even the shadow of a necessity? 
 Surely so to act is to love the danger, 
 and Our Lord declares that "he that 
 loveth the danger shall perish in it."* 
 
 In addition to the evil consequences 
 already referred to, such reading also 
 familiarizes us with the image of sin and 
 sensuality, and, by accustoming us to 
 gaze upon every description of turpitude 
 and immorality, gradually diminishes our 
 appreciation of the hideousneSs and 
 enormity of these crimes. It dulls the 
 keen edge of conscience, and blinds us 
 to the stern necessity of avoiding, at 
 any sacrifice, such dangerous occasions of 
 offending God. 
 
 But probably the greatest peril in the 
 path of the omnivorous reader arises 
 from infidel books. We mean all those 
 publications in which the truths of Rev- 
 elation and the doctrines of the Church, 
 even the most sacred and sublime, are 
 travestied or ridiculed, or directly attacked 
 and contradicted. In these days it is 
 downright infidelity, rather than hybrid 
 Protestantism, that we have to contend 
 
 * Ecdus., iii, 27. 
 
132 DANGERS OP THE DAY 
 
 with. In fact, Protestantism is fast losing 
 its hold on the great masses of the people. 
 Its extreme Erastianism, its fatal con- 
 tradictions, its internal divisions and 
 dissensions, as well as its modern and 
 purely human origin, are facts which are 
 becoming daily more and more clearly 
 recognized, and render it utterly unfit 
 to cope with modern infidelity and to 
 withstand the attacks of the inquiring and 
 critical spirits of the twentieth century. 
 Protestantism has had its day; it no 
 longer satisfies any one whose mind is 
 on the alert, so that thousands are now 
 lapsing into total unbelief, and falling 
 away from it, as leaves fall from a tree 
 that is blasted and withering. 
 
 It is not so much heresy as downright 
 atheism and godlessness that confront us, 
 and that poison and contaminate so great 
 a portion of the world's present literary 
 output. There is not the slightest doubt 
 that an incalculable amount of harm 
 is being done by this class of books; and 
 the more so because even good and pious 
 persons often fail to appreciate the risk 
 they run in perusing them. In fact, 
 they will go so far as proudly and dis- 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 1 33 
 
 dainfully to deny that for ihem there is 
 any risk whatsoever. Again and again 
 Catholics may be heard asserting their 
 right to read such pernicious authors. 
 And on what pretext? " Oh," they 
 jauntily exclaim, with an offended air, " if 
 our Faith be true and well grounded, we 
 have no cause to fear what men may 
 allege against it!" Or they petulantly 
 remark that the Catholic creed must be a 
 very milk-and-water creed if it can not 
 face the arguments of infidels and the 
 onslaught of foes; that, in short, there 
 can be nothing supernatural or divine in 
 it, if it is going to totter and fall to pieces 
 at the breath of mere men, however skilled 
 in word}' warfare. 
 
 What arrant nonsense! Such observa- 
 tions are, of course, common enough; but 
 they disclose an extraordinary confusion 
 of thought. We can only reply that those 
 who make them must be sadly ignorant 
 of their innate imbecility and weakness. 
 It is true that the danger to the reader 
 is very great, but this danger arises not 
 in the least degree from any inefficiency 
 or defect in the foundations of the Faith; 
 for the Church stands on an impregnable 
 
134 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 rock and is absolutely invulnerable. We 
 have the divine assurance that the gates 
 of hell itself shall never prevail against it. 
 No ! The danger exists, but it is subjective, 
 not objective. The danger lies wholly in 
 the blindness and dulness of poor weak 
 human nature, which is easily misled by 
 specious words, and beguiled by fine-spun 
 arguments, and which, having ventured 
 into a contest with the agents of Satan, is 
 as liable to be deceived and fall miserably 
 as were Adam and Eve when they tried 
 conclusions with the arch-fiend himself. 
 Such shallow excuses for flying into the 
 very face of danger are, in sober truth, but 
 sad indications of a subtle pride and vanity, 
 and suggest a really culpable ignorance of 
 man's spiritual misery and dependence. 
 Nothing is easier than to raise difficulties; 
 nothing is more comm-on than to suggest 
 doubts against the supernatural. So much 
 almost any one can do without offering 
 any claim to superior knowledge. Nor is 
 it strange. Can not a child, with a match 
 and a handful of straw, create a cloud 
 which will, for the time being, hide even 
 the very stars? It is a trite saying that "a 
 fool can ask more questions than a wise 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 1 35 
 
 man can answer." And if this be true in 
 the case of a fool, how far truer it must be 
 when the questioner is not a fool at all, 
 but a shrewd and clever reasoner, accus- 
 tomed to dialectics, who has an object to 
 accomplish, and who is whollj' unscrupulous 
 concerning the means he employs? How 
 can we expect the average Catholic to 
 read the effusions of rank infidels without 
 receiving any harm? Has he the mental 
 skill and training to parry every blow? 
 Is he such a master of fence as never to 
 be overcome by any adversary? The vast 
 majority of Catholics are without profound 
 knowledge either of history or theology 
 or philosophy. They have never been 
 trained for such encounters. They are 
 little accustomed to the insidious ways, 
 the counterfeit speech, the perverted sense, 
 the false reasonings, the innuendoes, the 
 tergiversations, the suppression of the 
 true and the suggestion of the false, and 
 the other shifts of a designing writer. They 
 indulge their curiosity, yet suspect no 
 evil. Silly flies suspect no danger in the 
 spider's web, so deftly spread to catch 
 their feet. In consequence, they perish 
 by thousands. In like manner many a 
 
136 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 silly human fly apprehends no danger in 
 infidel books, and is allured to his doom, 
 being entangled in the cunningly devised 
 meshes of some sophistical argument. 
 
 To suppose that Catholics of ordinary 
 ability, and without experience or prepara- 
 tion, should be able to see through and to 
 detect all the wily sophistries proposed 
 by some of the keenest and best prac- 
 tised intellects of the day, is sheer folly 
 and madness. They seem to forget that 
 amongst the immense number who write 
 are to be found agnostics, materialists, 
 positivists, and other infidels of unques- 
 tionable learning and ability. These are 
 often men who have distinguished them- 
 selves at the universities; they are highly 
 cultured; they possess an extraordinary 
 command of language : they express them- 
 selves with elegance and ease, and some- 
 times with real eloquence; thej' set forth 
 the most damnable doctrines and theories 
 in well-balanced phrases and in carefully 
 rounded periods, that captivate and charm 
 the casual reader to his own destruction; 
 reminding one, by reason of their methods, 
 of those exquisitely tinted tropical berries 
 which hide the deadliest poison under ai; 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 137 
 
 exterior of the most brilliantl}- beautiful 
 forms and colors, and thus tempt the 
 simple wayfarer to a deadly feast. Some, 
 too, are masters of deception, and will 
 present their views with an extraordinary 
 show of plausibility. They will so dress 
 up and deck out error that nine persons 
 out of ten will take it for truth; and will 
 surround vice itself with such a halo of 
 virtue as almost to deceive even the elect. 
 
 The simple, self-confiding and inexpe- 
 rienced reader seems singularly unconscious 
 of all this. He, accordingly, throws pru- 
 dence to the winds; he refuses to curb 
 his curiosity, and calmly persuades himself 
 that he may safely read and study the 
 worst publications of the day and run 
 no risk; skate on the thinnest ice and not 
 break through. Many a time have we seen 
 beardless youths, and even young ladies 
 fresh from the academies, thus courting 
 disaster, and rushing in where angels 
 themselves fear to tread. To this fact, 
 indeed, must be in a large measure ascribed 
 the deplorably lax views and unorthodox 
 opinions held by not a few Catholics of 
 the present time. 
 
 Pride, and pride alone, is at the bottom 
 
138 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 of it. For what is it that such venturesome 
 young persons practically say? Their 
 conduct, translated into words, bears a 
 very sinister aspect, and may be expressed 
 as follows : ' I run no risk. I am more than 
 a match for all these infidels. Clever men 
 may disguise error, but not from me. They 
 may represent evil as though it were good, 
 and deceive others, but me they can never 
 deceive. No: I am far too astute to be 
 taken in. Let them weave their subtleties 
 and their sophistries about me, and pre- 
 pare their pitfalls and their snares. Such 
 attempts may entrap the less wise, but 
 they are wholly unavailing before my 
 penetrating and all-seeing gaze. I? I can 
 see through every difficulty. I can loosen 
 every knot. I can unravel every tangle. 
 I can make the rough ways smooth, and 
 the crooked ways straight; detect false- 
 hood under any guise it may assume; 
 drag forth error triumphantly from its 
 hiding-place into the light of day, and 
 put my finger on every poisonous spot 
 without fail.' 
 
 What presumption! Alas! their pride 
 deceives them, and, unless corrected, will 
 certainly bring upon them some terrible 
 
DANGERS OP THS DAY 1 39 
 
 calamity. " Pride goeth before destruc- 
 tion," says the Holy Spirit of God; "and 
 the spirit is lifted up before a fall."* Such 
 conceit soon receives its due punishment. 
 They get entrapped in the toils of the 
 snarer, become entangled and held fast in 
 the twisted strands of error and infidelity, 
 and suffer the just consequences of their 
 rashness and disobedience. " Professing 
 themselves to be wise, they become 
 fools, "t 
 
 We have no right whatever to expose 
 ourselves to temptation against faith; 
 we have received no promise of immunity 
 if we do so. Quite the contrary. The Holy 
 Spirit of God explicitly warns us that 
 "he that toucheth pitch shall be defiled 
 with it. "J The plain truth is, we are not 
 wise enough or prudent enough, or suffi- 
 ciently courageous or enlightened, to sail 
 our own fragile barque over the great sea 
 of error and heresy which encompasses 
 us upon every side. If we were, then Christ 
 would never have commanded us to enter 
 into the Barque of Peter, and to entrust 
 ourselves and all our spiritual interests 
 to him who alone has received the divine 
 
 * Prov., xvi, 18. t Rom., i, 22. t Ecelus., xiii, 1. 
 
140 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 assurance that his barque will ever ride 
 in safety, even amid the fiercest and 
 wildest storms; and, though tossed and 
 buffeted, will never be wrecked on the 
 shifting sands and shallows of infidelity. 
 
 Considering the lessons with which 
 history abounds, and the many fresh 
 examples with which experience is con- 
 tinually supplying us and placing as 
 object lessons before our eyes, it is passing 
 strange that honest and earnest Catholics 
 should so little realize the power of evil, 
 and their own inherent weakness to resist 
 it. Yet so it is. The wisest and most 
 learned of the saints would hardly venture 
 to do what many of us, who possess not 
 one hundredth part of their learning or 
 one thousandth part of their sanctity, do 
 without scruple or hesitation. 
 
 Take a single instance. Call to mind 
 what we are told of St. Thomas of Aquin. 
 He is considered the greatest and the 
 profoundest of our theologians. His trea- 
 tises are known and studied by every 
 priest and ecclesiastical student throughout 
 the world. There is scarcely a professor, 
 teacher, or writer who does not refer to 
 him or quote him when dealing with 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 141 
 
 Catholic theological questions. If there 
 ever was a man who might feel secure 
 when treading the slippery paths of heresy, 
 and snap his fingers at any attempt to 
 puzzle or delude him, it is the Angel of the 
 Schools. Yet he was most circumspect, 
 and by no means insensible to the peril 
 arising from contact with error. In no 
 jaunty spirit did he approach the study 
 of heretical works, even with the purpose 
 of confuting them, but with caution and 
 circumspection, as one who is traversing 
 an enemy's country. Though his marvel- 
 lous insight into spiritual things and his 
 exceptional penetration of mind won for 
 him the title of the "Angelic Doctor," yet 
 his diffidence and humility were such that 
 he would never venture to enter into 
 the infidels' camp, or expose himself to 
 their batteries, until he had first armed 
 himself by prayer and penance, and thus 
 secured the divine assistance in order to 
 discern truth from error, and to expose 
 false doctrine. 
 
 It is recorded that sometimes, when 
 engaged upon his great work, " Contra 
 Gentiles," he would be troubled by this 
 or that heretical objection, and unable at 
 
142 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 once to find the solution. Then he would 
 put aside his pen, and seek in humble 
 prayer the light which was denied him in 
 study. He would steal down to the church, 
 and, throwing himself in great humility 
 before the Tabernacle, or else at the foot 
 of the crucifix, would earnestly implore 
 help and understanding from Him who 
 " enlighteneth every man that cometh 
 into this world."* When, as sometimes 
 happened, the answer did not at once 
 come, he would add fasting tp prayer, 
 until at last God rewarded his faith and 
 piety, and lovingly opened his eyes to the 
 truth, enabling him to detect the fallacy 
 and to deal with it in his own inimitable 
 manner. 
 
 If such intellectual giants and such 
 exalted saints and Doctors of the Church 
 as St. Thomas of Aquin were so conscious 
 of the contaminating influence of heresy 
 and of the corrosive effects of false 
 doctrine, how immeasurably more should 
 v.e fear them, and stand on our guard 
 against them! Great and constant should 
 be our care to avoid all unnecessary 
 contact with what is so contagious; for 
 
 * St. John, i, 9. 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 1 43 
 
 otherwise our faith will become gradually 
 undermined and our intellects perverted. 
 "Who thinketh himself to stand, let him 
 take heed lest he fall." 
 
 No observer, with any experience of 
 life, can fail to note the terrible havoc that 
 infidel and anti-religious books are causing 
 even within the ranks of the children of 
 the Church. The effect of these mischievous 
 publications is often slow, and, as a rule, 
 scarcely perceived at the time, but for 
 that very reason only the more dangerous. 
 "Drop by drop," it is said, "will wear 
 away a stone." So in a similar manner the 
 poison of infidelity and of doubt, instilled 
 into the mind drop by drop through the 
 medium of evil publications, will in the 
 course of time wear away and destroy 
 the strongest and the most irreproachable 
 faith. The example of prudence and 
 modesty and self-restraint set us by the 
 saints should not be without its effect. 
 We should distrust our weakness, deny 
 ourselves all dangerous license, and ask 
 God to guide and safeguard us from the 
 snares and the fascinations of error. Then 
 God will, in His great mercy, teach us 
 prudence and rescue us from the effects 
 of our own folly. 
 
VI. 
 
 Danger Connected with Learning. 
 I. 
 
 It is pride that fills Modernists with such confidence in 
 themselves, and leads them to hold themselves up as the 
 rule for all; pride which puffs them up with vainglory, 
 which allows them to regard themselves as the sole pos- 
 sessors of knowledge, and makes them say, inflated with 
 presumption, "we are not as the rest of men." . . 
 There is no road which leads so directly and so quickly 
 to modernism as pride. — Pius X., Encyclical, Sept. 8, 1907. 
 
 The labors of the Chiuch have not had for their 
 purpose to spread abroad knowledge or cultivate reason, 
 but to avert sin and to save the souls of men, compared 
 with which the value of the whole world is but dust 
 and ashes. For it is not the things of time that she 
 places first, but things of eternity; and literature, science, 
 and art are things of time, 
 
 — "The Key to the World's Progress," Devas, p. SO. 
 
 jHE gifts of God to man are 
 both numerous and varied . 
 Yet neither their number nor 
 their variety strikes one so 
 forcibly as their individual 
 beauty and intrinsic worth. So soon as 
 we look carefully into and examine their 
 structure and finish, even the commonest 
 amongst them fills us with admiration, 
 and a thousand questions leap unbidden 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 1 45 
 
 to our lips, — questions, for the most 
 part, that no man can answer. Who, 
 for example, will explain the mysteries 
 connected with the daily exercise of sight 
 and of hearing? From earliest childhood 
 we employ our eyes and ears and other 
 organs of sense, with the utmost accuracy 
 and ease. They are our first tutors and 
 instructors, and convey to our minds more 
 information concerning the great external 
 world around us than any other teachers. 
 Yet old age and decrepitude steal upon 
 us before we can understand their opera- 
 tion, or unravel the processes by which 
 they carry on their marvellous functions. 
 Each gift is precious, and contribrte 
 much to our comfort and well-being; but 
 amongst the very greatest, in the natural 
 order, must be reckoned reason or intel- 
 ligence. In this, indeed, we contemplate 
 the chief factor in man's earthly progress 
 and perfection. Intelligence gives him an 
 undisputed pre-eminence over all other 
 visible beings. It more than compensates 
 him for his physical weakness and insig- 
 nificance. It is not only a far nobler but 
 a far surer and better defence and protec- 
 tion, even against brute force, than would 
 
146 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 have been, for instance, the horns and 
 pachydermatous hide of the rhinoceros. 
 
 The light of reason shines only as a 
 tiny spark in the undeveloped child; but 
 it admits of wonderful increase, and may 
 be continually improved and strengthened 
 so long as life lasts. And, since every 
 increase of knowledge adds to a man's 
 present influence, and renders him better 
 fitted to cope with the difficulties and to 
 fulfil the functions of his social state, and 
 to carry on the business of his trade or 
 profession, it is greatly to his interest, 
 and to the interest of the whole community, 
 that he should cultivate and improve 
 those talents which God has bestowed 
 upon him, 'to trade with till He comes.'* 
 
 The Catholic Church has always acted 
 upon this view, and helped to foster a 
 love of knowledge. It was she who, in 
 times past, established renowned univer- 
 sities, and caused every monastery to 
 glow like a beacon, radiating light and 
 learning. She it was who founded schools 
 and colleges, and gathered the multitudes 
 around her to receive instruction, not 
 
 * St. Luke, xix, 13. 
 
DANGERS OF THU DAY 1 47 
 
 only in religion, but in the arts and 
 sciences, — in fact, in all branches of 
 knowledge, whether sacred or profane. 
 The Popes throughout the entire world, 
 and the bishops in their respective 
 dioceses, are acknowledged to have been 
 among the most glorious promoters of 
 learning, as well as its most enlightened 
 and zealous patrons. 
 
 All honorable men, acquainted with 
 the history of civilization, whether Cath- 
 olics or not, admit the enormous debt 
 that society owes to the Church, and 
 readily confess that, were it not for the 
 industry and labor of the monks* and 
 friars of old, the most valuable writings 
 
 * "In the old days," obEerves A. Jessopp, 
 D. D., "the monks were mutatis mutandis, 
 what in our time would be called cultured gen- 
 tlemen — courteous, highly educated and refined, 
 as compared with the great mass of their 
 contemporaries; a privileged class, who were 
 not abusing their privileges; a class from whence 
 all the arts and letters and accomplishments 
 of the time emanated, allied in blood as much 
 with the low as with the high, — the aristocracy 
 of intellect and the pioneers of scientific and 
 material progress," — "Studies by a Recluse," 
 pp. 30, 31- 
 
148 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 and the priceless literary masterpieces 
 of antiquity would have long since dis- 
 appeared and been as utterly buried in 
 oblivion as the literatures of Babylon 
 and Phoenicia. Before printing had been 
 invented, holy men, clothed in the black 
 garb of St. Benedict or wearing the coarse 
 brown habit of St. Francis, laboriously 
 copied out, on vellum or parchment, not 
 only the Sacred Scriptures and many 
 learned commentaries upon it, and pro- 
 found treatises on theology and history, 
 but all else that was best worth preserving 
 among the writings of Christians and 
 pagans alike, both in Latin and Greek. 
 
 In short, the Church has proved herself 
 a true lover of wisdom and a most earnest 
 advocate of learning in every age. This 
 is undoubtedly true, and it is necessary 
 to insist upon it; for, in spite of this, she 
 is often accused of being an obscurantist, 
 and of desiring to keep her children in 
 darkness and ignorance.* How are we to 
 
 * To bring contempt and odium on the 
 mystic Spouse of Christ, who is the true Light, 
 the children of darkness have been wont to cast 
 in her face before the world a stupid calumny, 
 and, perverting the meaning and force of things 
 
DANGERS OP THE DAY 1 49 
 
 account for so strange an anomaly? The 
 answer is clear. It is simply because, 
 however great her love of knowledge, there 
 is something she loves better still, and 
 that is virtue and moral goodness. Yes, it 
 is because she prefers her children to be 
 good rather than clever that she is 
 represented as an enemy to intellectual 
 progress. 
 
 It is a sad testimony to our present state 
 of probation that even knowledge has its 
 pitfalls and its dangers,* and it is with 
 this aspect of the question that we are 
 now chiefly concerned. The advantages 
 of learning are obvious to all, — they lie 
 on the surface; but the disadvantages 
 
 * In the first days of his pontificate, Pius X. 
 was obliged to condemn five books of the Abb6 
 Loisy, because they were "full of most grave 
 errors concerning the primitive Revelation, 
 the authenticity of the facts and teachings of 
 the Gospels, the divinity and knowledge of 
 Christ, the divine institution of the Church and 
 the Sacraments," etc. The recent Syllabus con- 
 demns similar errors of students and learned men. 
 
 and words, to depict her as the friend of dark- 
 ness and ignorance, and the enemy of light, 
 science and progress. — Pius IX.; quoted by 
 Pius X. 
 
150 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 few seem even to suspect. Yet they 
 undoubtedly exist, and should be clearly 
 recognized by all who are anxious to guard 
 themselves against disaster and spiritual 
 ruin. In order that we may form a correct 
 estimate of the dangers connected with 
 learning, we shall do well to consider 
 the teaching of the Church on the point, as 
 well as the precise office that our intellect 
 is intended to fulfil. We spoke of it as 
 "one of our greatest gifts," and as "the 
 chief factor in man's earthly progress and 
 perfection." And no doubt intellect does 
 contribute more than anything else to 
 man's purely natural progress. But here, 
 it must be understood, we are limiting 
 our consideration, and taking man simply 
 as a rational animal, living and moving 
 among his fellows in this world; that is 
 to say, we are contemplating man with 
 the eyes, not of a Christian, but of an 
 enlightened and respectable pagan, whose 
 loftiest ideal scarcely rises beyond the 
 mens sana in corpore sano. 
 
 But this purely physical and mental 
 perfection, though very real and very 
 excellent, so far as it goes, is, nevertheless, 
 essentially earthly and of a low type. 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 15 1 
 
 There is another perfection of an immeas- 
 urably higher order, to which man may, 
 through the merits of Christ, also aspire, 
 and to which every other perfection is 
 wholly subordinate. We refer to man's 
 moral perfection — that to which we gen- 
 erally give the name of sanctity. It is 
 of faith that sanctity constitutes man's 
 supreme perfection. He can aim at noth- 
 ing higher, nothing grander. It is the 
 only kind of perfection to which God, in 
 His infinite wisdom, attaches the smallest 
 possible value.* On man's progress in 
 sanctity depend his real worth in God's 
 eyes, his future position in heaven, the 
 nature and measure of the reward awaiting 
 him, and all else best worth considering. 
 These things depend not at all on man's 
 mental or physical equipment, but solely 
 on his personal holiness. Sanctity is so 
 
 * Thus, as Cardinal Newman so forcibly 
 expresses it: "The Church holds that it were 
 better for sun and moon to drop from heaven, 
 for the earth to fail, and tor all the many 
 millions who are on it to die of starvation in 
 extremest agony, as far as temporal affliction 
 goes, than that one soul, I will not say should 
 be lost, but should commit one single venial 
 sin." — "Anglican Difficulties," p. 199. 
 
152 DANGERS OP THE DAY 
 
 essentially man's one and only final end 
 that the value of all else is determined by 
 its relation to that end. What promotes 
 it is of value; what hinders it is valueless, 
 or rather positively harmful. 
 
 With these principles to guide us, we 
 may easily weigh, from a Catholic point 
 of view, what degree of importance is to 
 be attached to secular knowledge even 
 the most exceptional, and to learning even 
 the most extensive. What is the super- 
 natural worth of the most intimate 
 acquaintance with philosophy, history, 
 and the sciences? How far, in respect 
 of man's highest good, will the subtlest 
 metaphysician obtain the advantage over 
 the simple, unlettered lay-brother? 
 
 The answer may be gathered from the 
 fact that man's whole moral worth and 
 supernatural perfection is seated, not in 
 the intellect, but in the will. Directly, 
 the intellect has nothing to do with it. 
 In itself, secular knowledge weighs no 
 more in the balance than does physical 
 strength or muscular development. To 
 say that a philosopher of the highest rank, 
 or the most renowned scientist the world 
 has ever seen, is necessarily a more perfect 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 1 53 
 
 man, in the spiritual sense, simply because 
 he is in possession of a larger number of 
 facts than any other, and can handle them 
 more dexterously, is obviously absurd. It 
 would be as true to say that a man with 
 a strong digestion must be holier than 
 a dyspeptic. The first is more perfect 
 physically, but such organic perfection is 
 in no direct way connected with holiness. 
 In fact, holiness generally lives in a very 
 humble dwelling, and is more at home 
 with a St. Benedict Labre in his rags 
 and tatters than with a Solomon "in all 
 his glory." 
 
 Learning is, of course, a great power, 
 but the greatest power may be misapplied 
 and abused. It may tend even to make 
 the wicked worse. If a man be a thief, 
 then learning will but serve to make him 
 a more skilful and a more dangerous thief. 
 If he be a tyrant and a despot, a rebel or 
 a murderer, the only effect of learning will 
 be to render him at once more formidable, 
 more successful, and a greater scourge to 
 society. Knowledge puts weapons into his 
 hands to aid him in his nefarious designs. 
 It multiplies his opportunities of doing 
 evil, and decreases his chances of detection. 
 
154 DANGERS Olf THE DAY 
 
 Pause for a moment and ask yourselves 
 if it is not a fact that the blackest 
 scoundrels the world has ever known, the 
 greatest monsters in human form that 
 have ever blotted the fair pages of history, 
 the most notorious heresiarchs and crudest 
 persecutors of the Church of God, have 
 come, almost without an exception, not 
 from the ranks of the uneducated and the 
 unlettered, but from the ranks of the 
 educated and the worldly wise. Crime, 
 under any circumstances, is odious enough, 
 but there is no crime so detestable and 
 so revolting as crime that iS hatched in 
 the council chambers of the learned, and 
 devised by the prudence and cunning of 
 the wise. Ignorance may sometimes excuse 
 a fault or even a felony, whereas the 
 measure of guilt keeps on steadily increas- 
 ing with every increase of knowledge. 
 
 Perhaps the chief danger is that which 
 is pointed out by the Spirit of God 
 Himself, where He declares, by the lips of 
 St. Paul, that "knowledge puffeth up."* 
 In some respects, knowledge resembles 
 riches. In fact, it is the riches of the 
 
 * Cor., viii, i. 
 
DANGERS OF THB DAY 155 
 
 mind. And, just as a man who owns great 
 possessions and much material wealth 
 is apt to grow conceited, and to flatter 
 himself that he is superior to, and of a 
 nobler cast than, those who are poor and 
 destitute of all worldly goods, so is it 
 with him whose mind is well stocked with 
 the riches of knowledge, and who has 
 been endowed with exceptional mental 
 gifts and powers. As the gift of reason 
 places every man above the level of the 
 beasts, so a highly cultivated and devel- 
 oped reason places its possessor above 
 all those whose reason is of an inferior 
 order, or less exercised and trained. 
 
 In fact, learning secures for its possessor 
 a certain pre-eminence. It enthrones him 
 on a sort of pedestal, from which he can 
 always look down disdainfully upon the 
 less gifted. He feels himself their superior. 
 He can correct their misstatements, smile 
 compassionately at their errors, comment 
 upon their ignorance, and show a hundred 
 times a day that he has the advantage over 
 them. He may humble an opponent by a 
 display of greater ability, and wither an 
 objector by a word of irony or a biting 
 sarcasm. Besides this, he finds himself 
 
156 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 constantly referred to as an authority, 
 and consulted almost as an oracle; while 
 multitudes will love to listen to his 
 speeches, to read his books, and to await 
 his verdict upon almost any subject of 
 public controversy. 
 
 A truly great man will not be much 
 affected by such attentions, since he will 
 realize his own shortcomings, and be the 
 first to see that the sum total of his 
 acquired knowledge is but an infinitesimal 
 grain dug out of the vast universe of 
 truth, that may be drawn upon forever 
 without exhausting. But one without this 
 broader view, who readily draws in the 
 fumes of adulation that are so liberally 
 offered to him, will gradually become 
 intoxicated by the draught, and will, 
 sooner or later, fall as proud men always 
 fall. He will not merely take complacency 
 in his strength, and look with pitying 
 annoyance, perhaps with actual contempt, 
 upon all who differ from him; but he may 
 easily become so strongly wedded to his 
 own opinions as to refuse to yield to any 
 authority, however competent and legit- 
 imate. At this point his danger reaches 
 an acute stage, and nothing but the ab- 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 1 57 
 
 sence of the occasion can avert disaster.* 
 There is no pride so imperious and so 
 overbearing as intellectual pride; there is 
 none so subtle or so difficult to conquer: 
 there is none that so closely resembles 
 the pride of Satan, none that works such 
 havoc in the Church. f Further, it is, 
 without exception, the very worst condi- 
 tion for the ready exercise of divine faith, 
 which lies at the foundation of all religion, 
 and 'without which it is impossible to 
 please God.' This is a point worth devel- 
 oping, since it will account for certain 
 defections that the Church has to deplore 
 at the present day, besides serving as a 
 valuable warning to ourselves. 
 
 No one can be received into or can 
 remain in the one true Fold, of which our 
 Blessed Lord is Shepherd, unless he submit 
 his mind and his heart absolutely and 
 unconditionally to the authority divinely 
 constituted; and all submission means 
 
 * Thus, the decree of the Vatican Council, 
 1870, was the occasion of Dr. Dollinger's lamen- 
 table fall. He was excommunicated in 1871. 
 
 t The whole of Pius X.'s Encyclical Letter 
 on "Modernism," September 8, 1907, serves to 
 illustrate and to give weight to this statement. 
 
158 DANGERS OP THE DAY 
 
 humility. God exacts obedience to His 
 law; and in obeying it we offer Him the 
 service of our wills. That is to say, we do 
 not what we wish, but what God wishes. 
 But in addition to our free will we possess 
 another stupendous gift from God — viz., 
 our intellect. Is that to pay no fealty? 
 Is that to acknowledge no master, to 
 submit to no authority? Most eissuredly. 
 As our intellect comes from God as truly 
 as our free will, it also must be made to 
 recognize the same authority and to yield 
 to the same guidance. How do we submit 
 our intellect? By accepting, on the author- 
 ity of God, whatsoever He proposes to 
 our belief, and with equal readiness, 
 whether the doctrine be expressed directly 
 by His own divine lips, as the doctrine 
 of the Holy Eucharist; or indirectly, by 
 the mouth of His Church, as the doctrine 
 of the Immaculate Conception. 
 
 Thus, humility is a condition of entry 
 into the true Church. It is what St. Paul 
 calls "the bringing into captivity every 
 understanding to the obedience of Christ."* 
 Our Lord's own words upon this point 
 
 * II. Cor., X, 5. 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 1 59 
 
 are yet more direct and emphatic. He 
 tells us plainly that ' unless we be con- 
 verted, and become as. little children, we 
 shall not enter into the Kingdom of 
 Heaven.'* That is to say, unless we have 
 the meekness and the unquestioning trust 
 in our Teacher that a child has in his, we 
 can be no followers of Him. To do His 
 bidding without murmur, is obedience,— 
 i. e., the submission of the will. To accept 
 His teaching without demur, is faith, — 
 i. e., the submission of the intellect. Both 
 are essential, for both will and intellect 
 come from God. From this it follows 
 that whatever interferes with humility 
 and engenders pride, renders faith and 
 obedience more difficult. 
 
 II. 
 
 Knowledge is in itself an admirable 
 thing. It is power, influence, and prestige 
 all at once. Yet it is a source of extreme 
 danger unless accompanied by deep self- 
 distrust. It is a gift, but not a gift that 
 everyone knov/s how to profit by. It is a 
 sword, but not a sword that everyone can 
 
 * St. Matt., xviii, 3. 
 
l6o DANGERS OF THB DAY 
 
 wield. In fact, to change the metaphor, 
 we may say that knowledge is related to 
 a man very much as a sail is related to 
 a boat. It is the secret of his usefulness, 
 and he can make no steady advance with- 
 out it. But it is a danger as well as a help. 
 It is almost safer to have none than to 
 have too much. As every sailor knows, a 
 boat that is designed to carry a large 
 quantity of sail must carry her keel deep 
 down in the water, and must be heavily 
 weighted with ballast. The heavier the 
 ship, and the lower she lies below the 
 watermark, the greater the amount of 
 canvas she will bear. To hoist an enormous 
 sail on a tiny boat is to doom it to certain 
 destruction; for the slightest breath of 
 wind will topple it over, and send it to 
 the bottom. 
 
 In a somewhat similar manner, knowl- 
 edge will be an undoubted help to one 
 thoroughly grounded in humility. It will 
 increase his opportunities of doing good; 
 it will give him a deeper insight into divine 
 things; it will render his meditations and 
 his spiritual reading more profitable, and 
 serve him as a devoted handmaid in a 
 thousand important ways, because his 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY l6l 
 
 humility will safeguard him, and keep his 
 soul, as the ballast keeps the ship. But 
 if his knowledge puffs him up, and fills 
 him with pride, conceit, and vainglory, 
 then, bereft of the necessary ballast, he 
 will soon suffer shipwreck and become a 
 sport of the winds of temptation. 
 
 Of all the lessons taught us by history 
 and experience, there is none sadder than 
 that of the disintegrating power of intel- 
 lectual pride. All through the centuries, 
 from the earliest dawn of Christianity to 
 the present day, are found instances of 
 gifted and learned men who have suffered 
 shipwreck of the faith through their un- 
 willingness to bend their proud intellects 
 to the decisions of authority. They clung 
 obstinately to their own personal views, 
 and refused to conform to the ruling of the 
 ecclesiastical courts. They had more con- 
 fidence in the dictates of their own fallible 
 reason than in the judgment of the in- 
 fallible Church; and when once they had 
 committed themselves to any particular 
 view, they grew so self-opinionated and 
 so wedded to it, that they determined to 
 uphold it and maintain it against the 
 Pope and the whole council of bishops and 
 
1 62 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 cardinals. The fact is, self looms so large 
 before the mind of a proud man that it 
 seems to hide all else, and to prevent 
 his recognizing the true proportion of 
 things. 
 
 The fallacy that deludes some other- 
 wise sane persons is that when they differ 
 from the Church they do but dififer from 
 certain ecclesiastics who, however exalted 
 and eminent, are, after all, but men as 
 they are. They permit themselves to 
 think and talk and argue just as though 
 it were a question of purely human 
 dialectics, in which mind is pitted against 
 mind, and man against man. Though 
 this indicates a singular ignorance of the 
 very constitution of the Church, which is 
 the infallible mouthpiece of God, it is an 
 ignorance which often darkens counsel, 
 and blinds the eyes of those who see clearly 
 enough in purely worldly matters. 
 
 It is not so many years ago that a 
 distinguished scientist displayed such igno- 
 rance in a letter addressed to the London 
 press. He had denied some tenet of Cath- 
 olic doctrine; he had published articles 
 in defence of his heretical opinion; he had 
 in consequence incurred the censures of 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 163 
 
 the Church. What was the result? He 
 began to question, not only the right of 
 the Church to interfere in such matters, 
 but her very ability and capacity to deter- 
 mine the point at issue. When face to 
 face with the condemnation, he became 
 indignant. The Church? he cried. What 
 is the Church? Well, when we put on 
 one side the glamour and prestige and 
 bewitchery that have come to surround 
 the word, and calmly analyze it, we find 
 that the Teaching Church is nothing more 
 than a body of ecclesiastics, possessing 
 no more enlightenment or education or 
 intellectual ability than is possessed by 
 us laymen, who differ from them. Why 
 should we, then, renounce our liberty, or 
 deem it necessary to accept their solution 
 of a difficulty or their explanation of a text, 
 when it fails to satisfy us? We have the 
 same means of judging as they, and access 
 to the same documents. Our intellectual 
 gifts are as reliable, our reason as keen, 
 our memory as retentive, and so forth. 
 
 Such men ignore the essential character 
 of the Church. They treat it as they 
 would treat any other learned body, 
 whereas it is radically different from all 
 
164 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 other bodies. They confound the issues 
 and miss the whole point. They knock 
 very long and very loudly, and arouse 
 the whole neighborhood; but their 
 knocking is at the wrong door. An 
 appeal to one's own individual judgment 
 in opposition to the judgment of the 
 entire Church would be absurd enough, 
 even on the supposition that the Church 
 were but a human society, endowed with 
 mere human intelligence. A man must 
 needs possess a fine assurance who will 
 claim to surpass all his teachers, including 
 the subtlest and the saintliest. But even 
 this is not the point here. In the case 
 before us we are not contemplating a little 
 child pretending to teach its hoary-headed 
 professor; nor are we considering a discus- 
 sion between one created mind, however 
 feeble, with another, however strong; for 
 in all such cases the difference is only 
 one of degree. No: we are contemplating 
 a conflict where the difference is radical 
 and measureless. We are contemplating 
 feeble man resisting and contradicting the 
 very Oracle of God, — the puny creature 
 in revolt against his Creator. 
 
 The Church established by God has a 
 
DANGERS OP THE DAY 1 65 
 
 divine as well as a human side.* It is, 
 of course, composed of various members, 
 just as a human body is composed of 
 various members. But as in the human 
 body there is an invisible spirit that acts 
 on and through the members, and animates 
 and pervades them, and is yet distinct 
 from them, so there is likewise in the 
 Church an invisible Spirit that acts on and 
 through her members, and is yet distinct 
 from them and above them. And that 
 Spirit is no other than the Spirit of God, 
 the Third Person of the Adorable Trinity; 
 so that he who fights against the Church, 
 fights against God. Christ promised that 
 the Holy Ghost should abide with His 
 Church forever, to teach her all truths, 
 and to protect her from all errors. He 
 declared her to be indefectible. He guar- 
 anteed, on the authority of His own word, 
 that the gates of hell (i. e., the powers of 
 darkness) should never prevail against 
 her. He even commanded us to listen to 
 her voice as to His own, and would allow 
 
 * It is, to use Newman's words, "informed 
 and quickened by what is more than intellect — 
 viz., by a Divine Spirit." 
 
1 66 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 no distinction to be drawn, in this respect, 
 between her and Himself. " He that 
 heareth you, heareth Me; and he that 
 despiseth you, despiseth Me."* Nay, 
 more: He threatened with eternal damna- 
 tion any and every one who should wilfull}- 
 refuse to hear and obey her infallible voice. 
 " If he will not hear the Church, let him be 
 to thee as the heathen and the publican."! 
 Though truth be enunciated in human 
 language, it is none the less truth ; though 
 it reaches us through material channels, 
 it is none the less divine; though God 
 addresses us by means of His Vicar, the 
 Pope, it is still the voice of God rather 
 than the voice of man, and the doctrine 
 proposed to our belief is infallibly true. 
 Not only is this fact set forth with the 
 utmost precision in the inspired pages of 
 Holy Writ, J but it forces itself upon our 
 acceptance, as a dire necessity, just as 
 soon as we pause to consider the object 
 and purpose for which the Church has been 
 
 * St. Luke, X, i6. f St. Matt., xviii, 17. 
 
 X St. Paul gives thanks to God because the 
 Thessalonians received his words "not as the 
 word of men, but (as it truly is) the word of 
 God." (I. Thess., ii, 13.) 
 
DANGERS OF THB DAY 1 67 
 
 called into being. It was established for 
 the express purpose of teaching. Its very 
 object is to bear witness. It exists to 
 point the way, to guide the faltering steps 
 of the benighted pilgrim, to lead the wan- 
 derer safely home. It endures century 
 after century, that it may enable the 
 humble Christian to thread his way in 
 safety amid the entanglements of error; 
 that it may safeguard him from the 
 cunning and deceits of insidious foes; that 
 it may supply him with a steady beacon 
 amid the gathering gloom of an infidel 
 world, and be, in one word, a light to his 
 feet and a guide to his steps. 
 
 If its guidance be unreliable, if it be 
 anything less than absolutely infallible, 
 it can serve no such purpose, and Infinite 
 Wisdom must be at fault. For of what 
 possible use is a leader that can not lead, 
 a teacher that can not teach, a light that 
 does not enlighten, a compass that does 
 not point, or a messenger that knows not 
 how to deliver his message? If the Church 
 of God is not able to teach revealed truth 
 to the scientist and to the philosopher 
 and to the historian, as well as to others; 
 if, on the contrary, it be, as some seem to 
 
1 68 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 imagine, a leaking vessel that can not hold 
 the precious liquor of divine truth until 
 it has been tinkered and soldered and 
 put to rights by them; if, in short, it is 
 incompetent to carry out the special task 
 entrusted to it by the almighty and infinite 
 God, then surely it is no church of His. 
 Better far set up a man of straw and let 
 that be our guide; that, at least, will not 
 lead us astray.* 
 
 We can understand such depreciation 
 of the Church by men who see nothing in 
 it but a mere human institution. But to 
 such we make no appeal. We address our- 
 selves to Catholics: to those whose very 
 
 * Writing, even before his reception into 
 the Church, Cardinal Newman deUvers himself 
 as follows: "If the very claim to infallible 
 arbitration in religious disputes is of so weighty 
 importance and interest in all ages of the 
 world, much more is it welcome at a time like 
 the present, when the human intellect is so busy, 
 and thought so fertile, and opinion so manifold. 
 The absolute need of a spiritual supremacy is 
 at present the strongest of arguments in favor 
 of the fact of its supply. Surely, either an 
 objective revelation has not been given, or it 
 has been provided with means for impressing 
 its objectiveness on the world." — "Development 
 of Christian Doctrine," ch. ii, sec. ii, §13, 
 
DANGURS OF THE DAY 1 69 
 
 principles oblige them to acknowledge that 
 Christ, the Son of God, founded the Church 
 for the special purpose of handing down, 
 undefiled by error and untouched by 
 heresy, the sacred deposit of Faith. These 
 are in no position to doubt her preroga- 
 tive. What conception of the power and 
 veracity of God, we wonder, can they have 
 who imagine that He has ever failed or 
 ever can fail in the execution of His 
 promise; who fancy that they may correct 
 the supposed errors of that Church with 
 which He abides forever, and who are 
 so ready to enlighten and direct it with 
 their superior wisdom? When the Ark 
 of God seemed to lean to one side, we 
 are told that Oza, fancying that it was 
 about to fall, dared to stretch forth his 
 hand as though to save it,* and he 
 was at once struck dead in punishment 
 of his rashness. Yet the worldly-wise 
 are constantly imagining the Catholic 
 Church is about to fall, and stretch forth 
 their hands to hold it up, all unconscious 
 of any rashness or presumption. Scarcely 
 a century passes but some impatient 
 
 * II. Kings, \i 6. 
 
lyo DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 individuals may be found applying them- 
 selves to this singularly thankless task. 
 Such persons are not to be reasoned with. 
 They are Catholics in name only; for b}- 
 their very action they clearly denv either 
 God's most explicit promises, or else His 
 ability to keep them. They exceed their 
 powers. Such men as these would fain 
 teach the swallows how to fly, and the 
 sun itself how to shine. 
 
 It is the Catholic Church alone that puts 
 our intellectual submission really to the 
 test, and, by demanding assent to her 
 wondrous dogmas, secures the absolute 
 sacrifice of private judgment. First, she 
 bids us offer as a holocaust to God 
 the gift we most prize — namely, our own 
 personal opinion; and then she rewards 
 us by disclosing to us the most admirable 
 and the most consoling doctrines. He 
 who will not believe in the Real Presence 
 can never know the comfort and the joys 
 that the Blessed Sacrament enshrines; 
 and he who admits not the position 
 assigned to Mary by the Catholic Church 
 in the economy of divine grace, can never 
 experience what it is to possess so powerful 
 an advocate and so loving and devoted 
 
DANGBRS OF THE DAY I7I 
 
 a Mother. These and hundreds of other 
 inestimable advantages are purchased by 
 the exercise of faith. They are rewards 
 bestowed on those whose trust in God, 
 through good report and through evil 
 report, never fails, and whose confidence 
 never wavers. 
 
 It is well for us, who enjoy the great 
 gift, to reflect on our privileges, and to 
 remember that we honor God by subjecting 
 our reason to the teaching of His Church. 
 To trust God only so far as we can under- 
 stand, is not to trust at all. When we 
 constitute our reason the supreme judge, 
 it is our reason, and our reason alone, that 
 we honor and enthrone. So far from accept- 
 ing the decree or the definition on the 
 solemn assurance of the Church, we proceed 
 to summon it before the tribunal of our own 
 mind. We submit it to a critical cross- 
 examination; we sit in judgment upon it. 
 We sift and weigh the arguments so far 
 as our poor little intellect is capable, and 
 then we decide to accept or reject it. But, 
 whether accepted or rejected, it is ourselves 
 and not the Church whom we obey. It is 
 we who actually pass the sentence. There 
 is here no real obedience to a divinely 
 
172 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 constituted authority. There is no submis- 
 sion of the intellect; no " bringing into cap- 
 tivity every understanding";* no humble 
 renunciation of our private judgment; no 
 yielding without seeing to another; no 
 prostration of our whole being before the 
 dread sovereignty of God; in a word, 
 no true exercise of divine faith. 
 
 From this it is clearly seen that high 
 intellectual gifts are not without danger 
 to poor fallen man, and that none can be 
 prudently entrusted with them but such 
 as are fully sensible of their own inherent 
 weakness and blindness in spiritual things. 
 Even the most devout will scarcely keep 
 his footing on the dizzy heights of doctrinal 
 decisions, until he comes to realize that 
 religious truth rests upon higher grounds 
 than any the world has to offer; and that 
 the mysteries of God and the facts of reve- 
 lation are not arrived at by mere human 
 argument, but by the guidance of the 
 indwelling Spirit of God, who is so infinitely 
 lifted above the world that not merely its 
 foolishness, but even its very wisdom also, 
 is but folly in His sight. "The wisdom of 
 this world is foolishness with God."t 
 
 * II. Cor., X, 5. t I- Cor., iii, 19. 
 
VII. 
 
 Intemperance. 
 
 I. 
 
 rorque como el vino es tau caliente, inflama todds 
 los humores y miembios del cuerpo, y asi a todas ellas 
 inflama y fortifica: de manera, que en este tiempo el 
 alegria es mayor, y la ira y el furor, y el amor, y la 
 osadia y el deleyte; y asi en las otras pasiones. Por do 
 parece que siendo uno de los principales oficios de las 
 virtudes morales domar y mitigar estas pasiones: el vino 
 es de tal qualidad, que hace el oficio contrario: pues 
 con la vehemencia de su calor enciende lo que estas 
 virtudes apagan: para que por aqui vea el hombre 
 quanto se debe guardar de 61.* 
 
 jPON every side we are sur- 
 rounded by the countless gifts 
 I H °^ ^^^ all-wise and an all-loving 
 ^-'^ ^ Father. " His gifts are strewn 
 upon our way like sands upon 
 the great seashore," as Father Faber so 
 truly observes. And if God has embel- 
 lished our earthly and temporary home 
 with so endless a variety of objects, it 
 is not merely that they may administer 
 to our present needs and secure for us 
 much comfort and happiness, but far 
 more that they should help us — some in 
 one way and some in another — to attain 
 
 * ' *Guia de Pecadores," por L. de Granada, p. 359 
 173 
 
174 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 the sublime and supernatural end for 
 which He, in His infinite mercy, has 
 destined us. 
 
 So admirably, indeed, has His design 
 been realized that we may afl&rm without 
 hesitation that there is in the whole of 
 this wide world no single object which 
 may not be of assistance to us in the 
 acquirement of virtue, provided only that 
 we use it in the manner intended by the 
 Giver. "We know," exclaims St. Paul, 
 "that to them that love God all things 
 work together unto good, to such as, 
 according to His purpose, are called to be 
 saints."* Yes, all things without excep- 
 tion, if properly handled, may be pressed 
 into the service of God, and forced to help 
 us upward and onward toward the goal. 
 
 But this life is a period of trial. It 
 is essential that our virtue should be 
 exercised. If, therefore, on the one hand, 
 it be true that there is no object in this 
 world which may not assist us, it is 
 equally true, on the other, that there is 
 no object in the world that may not 
 hinder us. Whether any given object 
 actually hinders or helps, depends upon 
 
 * Rom., viii, 28. 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 1 75 
 
 our attitude toward it. There is nothing, 
 however holy and however admirable, so 
 formed and endowed that it must neces- 
 sarily, and in spite of ourselves, lift us 
 up and draw us to sanctity. Kven the 
 best things may have a diametrically 
 opposite effect; the efifect, whether good 
 or bad, being dependent upon the way 
 in which the thing is made use of. 
 
 Are not the sublimest gifts open to 
 abuse? Have not heretics abused the 
 Scriptures — i. e., God's own word? Do not 
 they who receive unworthily the Blessed 
 Sacrament — i. e., Christ's own sacred 
 Body — abuse this divine gift and receive 
 it to their own damnation? Is there 
 anything anywhere that malice may 
 not abuse and pollute and prostitute 
 to ignoble ends? No, nothing! Hence 
 man's sanctity must ever be largely 
 determined by his making a good rather 
 than a bad use of God's creatures. If he 
 allows them to serve the purpose God 
 intends, all will be well. If not, then 
 man becomes the author of his own mis- 
 fortunes. He digs a pit and will fall into 
 it. As a practical and pertinent illus- 
 tration of the truth of this statement. 
 
176 DANGBRS OF THE DAY 
 
 consider man's attitude toward strong 
 drink and spiritous liquors. 
 
 Wine must be allowed, most undoubt- 
 edly, to rank among the gifts of God 
 to man. The Holy Scripture itself bears 
 willing testimony to its exhilarating 
 effects, and declares that it is bestowed 
 to "cheer the heart of man,"* and that 
 from the beginning it was created "to 
 make man joyful. "f Hence it occasions 
 no surprise when we find St. Paul earnestly 
 recommending its use to Timothy, the 
 Bishop of Ephesus, whom he had himself 
 consecrated. "Do not still drink water," 
 urges the Apostle; "but use a little wine 
 for thy stomach's sake, and thy frequent 
 infirmities."! Nay, more: we have it 
 recorded for our instruction in the inspired 
 page that Jesus Christ, the only-begotten 
 Son of God, not only sanctioned its use 
 but went so far as to exercise His divine 
 omnipotence and to perform a stupendous 
 miracle for the express purpose of pro- 
 viding wine for -the guests of the wedding 
 feast of Cana. The merry party had already 
 
 * Ps., ciii, 15. f Ecclus., xxxi, 35. 
 
 % I. Tim., V, 23. 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 1 77 
 
 drunk generously,* but the amount pro- 
 vided proved insufficient; so at last, 
 "when the wine failed, the Mother of 
 Jesus said to Him: They have no wine."t 
 And Jesus, ever ready to accede to any 
 request coming from His Blessed Mother, 
 at once changed the water, stored up in 
 six great waterpots of stone, into most 
 delicious wine; so that the chief steward, 
 in blank astonishment, exclaimed : " Every 
 man at first setteth forth good wine ; and 
 when men have well drunk, then that 
 which is worse; but thou hast kept the 
 good wine until now." 
 
 From this it is abundantly evident that 
 wine is a genuine gift from God, and some- 
 thing unquestionably good and innocent 
 in itself. So much must be granted; yet, 
 in spite of this fact, we are bound to 
 confess that it would be extremely difficult 
 to point to any gift that mien have so 
 grossly and so continuously abused. They 
 have diverted it from its legitimate 
 purpose and true end; they have made it 
 
 * It seems, from the steward's remark, that 
 they had already "well drunk." See his words 
 qaoted lower down, 
 
 t St. John, ii, 3. 
 
178 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 the occasion of endless crimes and sins, 
 and have thus converted, what was 
 intended as a blessing, into a curse and 
 a snare. They have forgotten the object 
 for which it -was bestowed, and, by 
 their shameful excesses, have rendered 
 it a fruitful source of drunkenness and 
 debauchery. Who will reckon up the 
 millions upon millions of degraded men 
 and women who have lost their souls 
 eternally through an improper use of this 
 one creature of God, which is in itself 
 absolutely blameless and without guile! 
 In the present age especially, its evil 
 effects are almost everywhere conspicuous, 
 and should be brought frequently before 
 the attention of the public, so that those 
 who have not yet been contaminated 
 may be duly warned and put more upon 
 their guard. "The Drink Question," says 
 Charles Gide, "is one of the questions of 
 the day."* 
 
 Wine and spirits and other strong 
 potions are, in themselves, so simple and 
 
 * "Political Economy," p. 368. Speaking as 
 a political economist, he says that drink leads 
 to "incapacity for work, disease, madness, crime, 
 and suicide." 
 
DANGERS Olf THE DAY 1 79 
 
 innocent that it is exceedingly difficult to 
 realize how appalling and how far-reaching 
 are the consequences of their abuse. Actual 
 experience, and the undeniable testimony 
 afforded by contemporary history, are 
 essential to enable one to measure with 
 any degree of accuracy the extent of the 
 havoc they have produced, and are still 
 producing, all over the civilized world. 
 For, certainly, without actual experience 
 and personal observation no one would 
 have imagined that drink, as an engine 
 of death and destruction, could ever have 
 competed successfully v/ith such scourges 
 as war, famine, and pestilence, much less 
 that it should far surpass them all; yet 
 this is the undoubted verdict of history, 
 supported by statistics and by man)' most 
 trustworthy authorities. 
 
 Judges upon the bench have often 
 expressed the opinion that 99 per cent of 
 the crimes brought before them are trace- 
 able, directly or indirectly, to excessive 
 drinking. Similar statements have been 
 made by the governors of his Majesty's 
 jails; while medical men admit that it 
 has done more than anything else to 
 fill our lunatic asylums and houses for 
 
l8o DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 the insane. Many physicians have borne 
 witness against this terrible curse. They 
 tell us not merely that over-indulgence 
 in alcohol actually produces many dis- 
 eases, but that such indulgence places the 
 patient at an extreme disadvantage, even 
 in cases in which the malady itself arises 
 from quite other causes. No matter what 
 the disease may be, a sober and temperate 
 person will run a far better chance of 
 recovery than one whose blood has been 
 poisoned and whose whole constitution 
 has been undermined by excess. 
 
 It is, alas ! only too true that men who 
 have contracted a habit of drinking soon 
 become slaves to it, and that they will 
 seek to justify their conduct by a hundred 
 plausible pretexts. They will wax eloquent 
 on the advantages to be derived from 
 recourse to their favorite beverages, and 
 will fill their glass on the slightest provo- 
 cation. Any occasion suffices, such as: 
 
 A friend, good wine; 
 Or because they are dry; 
 Or lest they should be by and by; 
 Or any other reason why. 
 
 Yet, as a matter of fact, there is very little 
 to be said in favor of alcohol as an article 
 
DANGBRS OP THE DAY l8l 
 
 of food. " It is," Dr. B. W. Richardson* 
 explains, " a product of the laboratory, 
 belonging thereto, and is out of place when 
 it is used for any other than a purely 
 medical, chemical, or artistic purpose. It 
 is no food; it is the most certain and 
 insidious destroyer of health, happiness, 
 and life." 
 
 The most stalwart peoples, in the zenith 
 of their power, seldom touched these 
 blood-stirring concoctions. The warlike 
 Spartans, for instance, refrained from 
 strong drink, and loathed nothing so 
 much as the sight of a drunken man. If 
 one were discovered among their slaves, 
 they would point him out disdainfully 
 as a warning to their sons. The ancient 
 Britons, too, so noted for their fine athletic 
 forms, their swiftness of foot, their great 
 proficiency in wrestling, swimming, and 
 other physical exercises, such as wielding 
 the broad sword and drawing the long 
 bow, never touched strong liquor of any 
 kind. So, again, the classical author Caesar 
 writes that the Suevi were by far the 
 most renowned warriors and the best 
 fighting men in Germany, yet they never 
 
 * "A Ministry of Health." p. 92. 
 
1 82 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 partook of anything stronger than milk. 
 If, further, we consult the sacred books 
 of the Indians, we shall find that the use 
 of intoxicating drinks is forbidden; yet, 
 notwithstanding this, the most observant 
 among the Hindoos are far more vigorous 
 than our own beer-drinking, gin-gulping 
 laborers. The Sepoys for instance, will 
 march from twenty to thirty miles a day, 
 heavily burdened, and under a scorching 
 sun, yet will not turn a hair or manifest 
 any signs of fatigue. 
 
 In a word, it is quite evident that men 
 may succeed in every walk of life, and 
 endure considerable fatigue and undergo 
 prolonged exertion, without seeking aid 
 from either wine or spirits. Where this 
 need is felt it is a fictitious one, and born 
 of an evil habit, which should never have 
 been contracted. Indeed, " physicians, who 
 have investigated the effect of alcohol on 
 the system, have come to the conclusion 
 that it is not a food, and does not in 
 any way make flesh or tissue."* 
 
 The only correct inference to be drawn 
 
 from this is that the more temperate we 
 
 are in the use of fermented drinks the 
 
 * Dr. York Davies, "Foods for the Fat," p. 66. 
 
DANGBRS OF THB DAY 1 83 
 
 better it will be for for us, both in soul and 
 body. " If," writes Dr. B. W. Richardson,* 
 "such a miracle could be performed in 
 England as a general conversion to tem- 
 perance, the vitality of the nation would 
 rise one-third in its value, and this without 
 reference to the indirect advantages that 
 would of necessity follow." 
 
 Designing men are well aware of the 
 deleterious effects of strong drinks, and 
 their general demoralizing influence. When 
 they seek to persuade their dupes to pass 
 the bounds of moderation, we may well 
 grow suspicious; for it is generally for 
 some sinister motive, such as to inspire 
 them with a false courage or to silence 
 the qualms of conscience, and in order 
 that they may consent to evil rather 
 than to good. In the following words of 
 Count Tolstoi we shall recognize a sad and 
 humiliating truth: "If a person wishes 
 to make others do wrong, he alcoholizes 
 them. They make soldiers drunk before 
 sending them into battle. At the time 
 of the assault of Sebastopol, all the French 
 soldiers were drunk. It is well known that 
 robbers, brigands, and prostitutes can 
 
 * "A Ministry of Health," p. 178. 
 
184 DANGERS OK THE DAY 
 
 not dispense with alcoliol. All the world 
 agrees that the consumption of these 
 narcotics has for its object the stifling of 
 the remorse of conscience; and yet — unless 
 the use of these exhilarants result in 
 actual assassination, theft and violence — 
 they are not condemned."* 
 
 That we may be strengthened to fight 
 the battle against intemperance more 
 valiantly, it is very necessary that we 
 should understand as clearly as possible 
 not only the evils that it causes, but also 
 how these evils come to be associated 
 with drink. For this purpose, we must 
 begin by considering the special circum- 
 stances of our present life. Since man 
 was first introduced into this world, he 
 has undergone a radical change. He is 
 not now in his normal state. The exquisite 
 harmony that the Creator established 
 between the various elements of his com- 
 plicated nature when he first issued forth, 
 perfect and innocent, from the divine 
 hands, has been rudely disturbed. The 
 poison of original sin, entering into his 
 system, bred disorder and dire confusion. 
 
 * Quoted by J. Bigelow in "Mystery of Sleep," 
 2d edit., p. 187. 
 
DANGERS OF THB DAY 1 85 
 
 Man is no longer a well-balanced being, 
 in whom intellect and conscience rule, 
 and the lower appetites and impulses 
 readily obey: he is a strange amalgam 
 of conflicting inclinations and turbid 
 passions, carrying on an internecine war 
 within his very soul. 
 
 In every member of the human race, 
 as now constituted, there are two very 
 different parts to be considered. There 
 is, in the first place, the reasoning prin- 
 ciple within us; and, in the second place, 
 there is the untamed and unreasoning 
 principle, — i. e., our higher self and our 
 lower self; or what the Apostle refers 
 to respectively as the "spirit" and the 
 "flesh." Listen to his inspired words: 
 "The flesh lusteth against the spirit, and 
 the spirit against the flesh; for these are 
 contrary one to another."* Or, again, 
 weigh well the following passage, where 
 he expresses the same truth in yet more 
 personal and forcible language : " I am 
 delighted with the law of God according 
 to the inward man; but I see another law 
 in my members, fighting against the law 
 of my mind, and captivating me in the 
 law of sin that is in my members. "f 
 
 * Gala., V, 17. ■(•^j^Rom.j'.vii, 22, 23. 
 
1 86 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 The good and evil tendencies within us, 
 or what St. Paul calls the spirit and the 
 flesh, are ever striving for the mastery; 
 and if we are to obtain the eternal fruits 
 of victory, it can be only by weakening 
 the one and strengthening the other. 
 Hence it is to our interest, and indeed a 
 positive duty, to put forth all our energy 
 to repress the evil principle and to pro- 
 mote the good. But is that the conduct of 
 the intemperate? Emphatically, no! The 
 man who yields himself up to the attrac- 
 tions of drink follows precisely the opposite 
 course. He greatly fosters and encourages 
 the flesh, feeds fat his rebellious appetites, 
 and raises up innumerable fresh obstacles 
 in the path of virtue. 
 
 For strong drink enkindles evil desires, 
 and arouses the wild beast that lies 
 dormant in every child of Adam. It 
 quickens the blood, and causes it to 
 course through the veins like liquid fire; 
 so that, under its influence, man no 
 longer retains the mastery over himself, 
 and is not in a condition to act, or even 
 to think, calmly and reasonably. The 
 noblest gift that he has received from God, 
 in the natural order, is reason. Deprived 
 
DANGERS OK THE DAY 187 
 
 of that, man is inferior to the beasts. 
 He lacks their strength, their power 
 of endurance, their keenness of vision, 
 fleetness of foot, and much else. But man 
 has what the beast has not: he possesses 
 reason ; and that one gift crowns him with 
 a God-given authority, and enables him to 
 "subdue the earth, and to rule over the 
 fishes of the sea, and the fowls of the air, 
 and all living creatures" (Gen., i, 28), as 
 God in the very beginning promised him 
 that he should. 
 
 Further, it is in virtue of his possessing 
 memor}', will, and understanding, the 
 three great powers of his one indivisible 
 soul, that we recognize in him the image 
 and likeness of the ever-blessed Trinity, 
 the three Persons in the one indivisible 
 Unity of God. Now, the drunkard effaces 
 this divine resemblance, since he throws 
 his intellect off its balance, and loses all 
 control over his memory and will, and 
 renders himself wholly incapable of follow- 
 ing the dictates of reason. He disgraces 
 his manhood and removes every trace of 
 his noble origin. He can not think clearly, 
 he can not speak articulately, nor can he 
 so much as regulate the motions of his 
 
1 88 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 feet. He can not walk, but staggers along, 
 swaying now to one side, now to another, 
 threatening each moment to measure 
 his length along the ground; a picture 
 of impotence and imbecility, — a sorry 
 figure for scorn and derision to point their 
 withering fingers at. 
 
 But the drunkard is not satisfied to 
 extinguish all his highest and best gifts: 
 he at the same time unchains the thousand 
 hell-hounds, pent up within him, that 
 await but the occasion to run riot and to 
 lay waste. 
 
 II. 
 
 It is a most extraordinary and melan- 
 choly fact, but nevertheless a most 
 certain one, that under the influence of 
 liquor man becomes an utterly changed 
 being. It is just as though his own soul 
 had temporarily deserted him, and that 
 some foul, passionate, and reckless fiend 
 had entered into his body and usurped 
 its place, and were ruling and directing 
 all his thoughts, words, and actions. No 
 one can fail to note the contrast between 
 the two states. Every good quality, every 
 admirable characteristic, every virtuous 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 1 89 
 
 impulse seems to have suddenly abandoned 
 him; while the most unnatural and the 
 most unwonted vices and passions seem 
 to have all at once taken their place. 
 
 Again and again have we observed this 
 lamentable transformation of the man 
 into the beast, and the sight has filled 
 us with almost as much amazement as 
 distress. We felt as though we were con- 
 templating the irresponsible vagaries of a 
 maniac, not the actions of a reasonable 
 being; the senseless extravagances of a 
 demon, not the doings of a child of the 
 Church. The whole character appeared 
 turned inside out. Every engine of the soul 
 seemed reversed, and every power misdi- 
 rected. " Nil fuit unquam sic impar sibi," 
 as Horace would say. The loving husband 
 and gentle, doting father is converted 
 into a brute and a monster. His very 
 love is, for the time being, turned to hate. 
 He violently attacks her whom he has 
 sworn before God's altar to cherish and 
 protect. He insults her with foul language, 
 and wounds her with cruel and injurious 
 words. Perhaps he raises his hand and, 
 with a muttered curse, fells her to the 
 ground. His little children, who cluster 
 
190 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 around him and clamber over his knees 
 when he is sober, are now scared, and, 
 fearing to approach him, fly away to 
 escape ill treatment and blows. He upsets 
 the whole house, flings the furniture about, 
 breaks all that he can lay his hands upon; 
 and wherever he goes creates dread, 
 sorrow, and confusion. 
 
 When the effect of the alcohol is spent, 
 he begins to realize the evil he has done. 
 His heart breaks to see the marks of his 
 closed fist upon the face of the wife he 
 loves so well and to witness the horror 
 and consternation depicted on the puzzled 
 countenances of his trembling little ones. 
 He feels sick at heart; he resolves never 
 so far to forget himself again; he vows 
 never more to break and destroy and lay 
 waste. His vows to Heaven are perhaps 
 quite sincere; he really means what he 
 says, — at least while he says it. But, 
 alas! habit has weakened him. When 
 the occasion again arises, and the means 
 of gratifying his unnatural thirst are at 
 hand, the chances are that his good 
 resolutions are forgotten, and he falls 
 again an easy prey to the cravings of 
 his evil passion, which, growing stronger 
 
DANGERS OF THB DAY I91 
 
 and more unruly with every indulgence, 
 at length drags him down to a lower 
 and lower level, reducing him finally to a 
 permanent state of irreclaimable shame 
 and degradation. 
 
 Habit is a tremendous force, whether 
 for good or for evil. It has rightly been 
 called " a second nature," easily formed, 
 and with difficulty overcome. One who 
 knowingly contracts an evil habit, delib- 
 erately yields himself up into the arms 
 of a giant, and can scarcely free himself 
 from his grasp. He becomes the slave 
 and bondsman of passion, and forges for 
 himself iron chains that (except by a 
 miracle of grace) will never break asunder, 
 but will hold him fast in the fires of hell 
 forever. "A brain trained to respond to 
 the calls of duty soon does so with ease 
 and elasticity, just as the muscles of the 
 blacksmith's arm or the ballet dancer's 
 leg acquire strength and vigor by exercise; 
 while, on the other hand, self-control is 
 an effort to the soft and flabby brain which 
 has been weakened by self-indulgence."* 
 Surely these last words apply to the victim 
 of drink more than to any other. 
 
 * "Modern Science," by S. Laing. p. 316. 
 
192 DANGERS Olf THB DAY, 
 
 It is hard enough, even under the most 
 favorable circumstances, to walk along the 
 narrow way of God's commandments, and 
 to contend successfully with the many 
 enemies who are ever plotting our down- 
 fall; but we render it immeasurably more 
 difficult when we go out of our way to 
 raise up other adversaries of quite excep- 
 tional vehemence and ferocity. Even the 
 most temperate of men will have his 
 battles to fight and his spurs to win; but 
 his task is light compared to that of the 
 intemperate man, whose reprehensible con- 
 duct has been, on the one hand, strength- 
 ening the power and increasing the number 
 of his enemies, and, on the other hand, 
 rendering himself less and less capable 
 of offering them any effective resistance. 
 
 It must be borne in mind that drink 
 develops and brings out into greater 
 prominence the lowest and purely animal 
 instincts. It excites lustful desires; it 
 stirs up the fires of concupiscence; it fills 
 us with a hundred evil inclinations; it 
 renders us testy and litigious, quick 
 to pick a quarrel, and ready on the 
 slenderest pretext, or upon no pretext 
 whatever, to fight and contend and 
 
DANGERS OP THE DAY 1 93 
 
 wrangle. How large a proportion of 
 murders are committed through drink! 
 
 Even the best of men, under the 
 influence of liquor, fling prudence to the 
 winds, sacrifice what is dearest and best 
 to indulge the whim of a moment; and 
 are as utterly devoid of even the first 
 elements of modesty and shame as the 
 untamed beast of the primeval forest. In 
 many respects, they sink not only to the 
 level of the irrational animals, but far 
 below them; since drink often incites a 
 man to cruelty toward his own species, 
 and murder and incest, and other crimes 
 and abominations, of which the wildest 
 denizens of the forest are wholly incapable. 
 Drink does yet more: it saps his moral 
 strength, and so enfeebles his will that 
 he falls an easy prey to every gust of 
 temptation. If long continued, it not 
 unfrequently brings about such pertur- 
 bation of mind and such a dulling of 
 the faculties that he scarcely realizes his 
 state, or notices the imminent risk he is 
 running of losing his soul. 
 
 At last the drunkard comes to fear 
 neither God nor devil, defies hell and 
 all its horrors, and, without any real 
 
194 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 consciousness of his impending fate, will 
 stand with one foot over the dreadful 
 abyss, ready at any moment to topple 
 over should any accident sever the brittle 
 cord of life. In other words, hardness of 
 heart and spiritual blindness often take 
 possession of the sinner who has so 
 frequently and so deliberately closed his 
 ears to repeated warnings, and who has 
 so persistently shut his eyes to the light, 
 until finally, to use the expression of Holy 
 Writ, " God delivers him up to a reprobate 
 sense." Such as these, more than others, 
 seem to illustrate one of the most awful 
 texts of the Gospel, — namely, "He hath 
 blinded their eyes and hardened their 
 hearts, that they should not see with their 
 eyes nor understand with their hearts, 
 and be converted."* 
 
 And now I wish to point out one 
 altogether special consequence which 
 often overtakes the habitual drunkard, 
 and which is eminently deserving of our 
 most serious consideration; for, whilst 
 it is most appalling in itself, it seems to 
 be quite peculiar to this special form of 
 vice. It is that the drunkard not only 
 
 * St. John, xii, 40. 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 1 95 
 
 sins, but by his sin often renders it impos- 
 sible that he should obtain forgiveness; 
 that is to say, he frequently places himself 
 in a position in which neither priest nor 
 absolution nor sacraments can render 
 him the slightest service. He may truly 
 be said, on these occasions, to render 
 salvation itself a practical impossibility. 
 To realize the gravity as well as the 
 reality of this danger, we must begin by 
 calling to mind the infinite mercy and 
 boundless compassion of God, and His 
 eager desire that all should be saved. 
 This desire is so strong and so sincere 
 that He declares Himself ready to 
 pardon even the deadliest offence and 
 the blackest crime, provided only that 
 we turn to Him, even though it be at 
 the very last moment, and elicit an 
 act of true contrition. Thus, a highway 
 robber may be struck down at the very 
 moment of thieving. His intended victim, 
 in self-defence, may send a bullet through 
 his heart. Yet if the robber find time 
 enough, before expiring, to call upon God 
 for mercy and to make an act of perfect 
 contrition, that act will save him, and his 
 prayer will not be refused. Yea, even 
 
196 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 though he be guilty not only of robbery 
 but also of the foulest murder, and though 
 his hands be still red with the blood of 
 his victim, he may, even then, hope for 
 forgiveness. For if only he repent of his 
 crime, and be heartily and sincerely sorry, 
 God will not close the door of His mercy 
 upon him, but will wash away the foulest 
 stain from his soul. "If your sins be as 
 scarlet, they shall be made white as snow; 
 and if they be red as crimson, they shall 
 be white as wool."* For Christ "came 
 not to call the just but sinners to 
 penance, "t 
 
 But — and this is the all-important 
 point — before such mercy can be exercised, 
 certain conditions are absolutely essential. 
 All forgiveness is made dependent upon 
 repentance. Therefore, it is imperative 
 that the sinner should be capable of 
 eliciting, and should actually elicit, an 
 act of genuine and conscious sorrow. 
 
 Now comes the question: Is it possible 
 for any man to fulfil such a condition while 
 laboring under the influence of drink? 
 How can one whose brain is muddled, 
 and whose reason is clouded, and whose 
 
 • Isa.. i, 18. t St Luke. v. 32. 
 
DANGERS Of THB DAY 1 97 
 
 faculties refuse to serve him, so collect 
 himself and so view the whole situation 
 at that supreme moment as to be able 
 to weigh the gravity of his offence and 
 the peril that is menacing him, and the 
 goodness and mercy of the God he has 
 outraged? How can he realize his predica- 
 ment sufficiently to enable him to break 
 forth in humble prayer, and to utter 
 conscious words of profound and heart- 
 broken contrition? It is a physical impos- 
 sibility. He can no more do this than 
 a madman can work out a mathematical 
 problem or decide an intricate point of 
 law. His mind is in confusion; he is not 
 in a condition to exercise any of its powers; 
 he is, for the time being, as one bereft 
 of reason, as one already dead. 
 
 No! Should death overtake him in this 
 plight, his state is a desperate, a hopeless 
 one, and nothing can rescue him from 
 the bottomless pit. Should he fall in a 
 drunken brawl, or be run over in the 
 street, or be smashed up in a railway 
 accident, or perish in any one of the 
 countless other ways in which such men 
 are wont to be hurried out of life, he can 
 not save himself from hell by an act of 
 
1 98 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 contrition, for the obvious reason that 
 he is hopelessly incapable of making one. 
 In such cases — and they are exceedingly 
 common — ^he must inevitably wake up 
 from his drunken orgies amid the quench- 
 less flames and Stygian darkness and the 
 eternal desolation and agony prepared 
 for the devil and his angels. O terror 
 beyond all terrors! O horror surpassing 
 all horrors! Yet this is the end to which 
 drink naturally tends. 
 
 And who is to blame for such a consum- 
 mation? Who alone is responsible? It 
 is no other than the sinner himself. For, 
 dispute it as we may, it is he who has 
 bound fast the patient hands of God's 
 infinite mercy so that He is unable to 
 help; it is he who has wantonly placed 
 himself beyond the reach of God's healing 
 grace; it is he who has deliberately 
 deprived himself of the power of uttering 
 a cry for mercy in his extreme need; and 
 without at least one strong, piercing cry 
 for pity and forgiveness, he can obtain 
 no redress, but must resign himself to 
 his fate, — a fate too horrible to describe, 
 too appalling even to imagine or conceive. 
 For " which of you can dwell with devour- 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 1 99 
 
 ing fire? Which of you shall dwell with 
 everlasting burnings?"* 
 
 This is no imaginary case, nor is it 
 possible to regard it even as a rare and 
 unusual occurrence. Indeed, it is a noto- 
 rious fact that the drunkard exposes 
 himself, as no other, to every kind of fatal 
 accident and to every form of violent 
 death. Innumerable are the instances 
 in which the unfortunate victims of 
 intemperance are hurried into eternity. 
 Who, then, in his senses, will give himself 
 up to a vice fraught with such excep- 
 tionally awful consequences? Who will 
 expose himself to so terrible and ghastly 
 a fate? 
 
 Yet even when death comes without 
 violence, and when there is time to call 
 in a priest, how often it happens that the 
 wretched man is unable to avail himself 
 of his administrations! Where a man is 
 suffering from delirium tremens, and lies 
 at the point of death, while still under 
 the effects of alcoholic poisoning, the 
 minister of God may indeed stand by his 
 side, but he can do nothing. He may 
 whisper into the ears of the dying; he 
 
 * Isa., xxxiii, 14. 
 
200 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 may exhort him to make his peace with 
 God; but it is like addressing words of 
 exhortation and consolation to a corpse. 
 He may pronounce the sacred formula 
 of absolution over the prostrate form; 
 he may anoint his trembling limbs with 
 the holy oil ; but all to no purpose. Unless 
 the sinner can rouse himself from his 
 stupor and put himself in the proper 
 dispositions to receive the benefit of the 
 sacraments, they will be administered 
 to him in vain. And he, who would not 
 obey the voice of God calling him to a 
 life of sobriety in this world, will have 
 to obey the summons to judgment, unrec- 
 onciled and unhealed, and to listen to 
 the "Depart from Me, ye cursed!" issuing 
 from the lips of the Sovereign Judge. 
 
 What man living, and realizing all this, 
 can rest unmoved at the thought of the 
 fearful prevalence of intemperance! Who 
 is there that will allow this habit to deepen 
 and strengthen unchecked! A taste for 
 strong drinks and ardent spirits is not a 
 natural taste but an acquired one. The 
 craving is weak at first; it increases by 
 slow degrees; and, if taken in time, may 
 easily be mastered, with a little resolution, 
 
DANGERS OP THB DAY 20I 
 
 Nemo repenie fuii turpissimus. If the 
 incipient drunkard would but look ahead, 
 and reflect on the consequences of the 
 habit, before it becomes inveterate, he 
 might easily check its progress or arrest 
 it altogether. Indeed, it is far more from 
 inadvertence and want of consideration 
 than from any uncontrollable attraction 
 that so many thousands of men and 
 women enter so lightly upon this road to 
 eternal ruin. 
 
 This undoubtedly constitutes one of the 
 great dangers of the day; and a danger 
 it remains, in spite of the many excellent 
 attempts to combat it. Would that it were 
 within our power to sound a trumpet 
 blast of warning that should resound 
 throughout the world, and arouse men to 
 reflect before it is too late! We priests 
 must do at least what we can, or the 
 blame will rest, in part at least, upon our 
 own shoulders, according to the words of 
 Holy Writ: " If, when I say to the wicked. 
 Thou shalt surely die, thou declare it not 
 to him nor speak to him, that he may 
 be converted from his wicked way and 
 live; the same wicked man shall die in his 
 iniquity, but I will require his blood at thy 
 
202 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 hand. But if thou give warning to the 
 wicked, and he be not converted from his 
 wickedness and from his evil way, he 
 indeed shall die in his iniquity, but thou 
 hast delivered thy sonl."* 
 
 * Ezek., iii, 18, 19. 
 
VIII. 
 
 The Sovereign Seduction. 
 
 And man, poor insect of a summer's day 
 Dreams of eternal honors to his name. 
 Of endless glories and perennial bays. 
 He idly reasons of eternity 
 As of the train of ages, — ^when, alas! 
 Ten thousand of his centuries 
 Are, in comparison, a little point 
 Too trivial for accompt, 
 
 —H. Kirke White. 
 
 ^NE of the great imperfections 
 incidental to man's present 
 state is the difficulty he 
 experiences — I will not say 
 in believing, for belief is 
 natural to man — but in realizing any- 
 thing beyond the present material world 
 that surrounds him. Man will not readily 
 subject himself to any severe strain; 
 yet, without some resolute mental effort, 
 he will hardly succeed in projecting his 
 thoughts beyond the narrow barriers of 
 time, to ponder over and apply the lessons 
 of eternity. 
 
 He feels, indeed, that he is a responsible 
 being. He is conscious of many obliga- 
 
204 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 tions pressing upon him, and claiming 
 attention. Nor is he without apprehension 
 of a judgment to come. But, in spite of 
 this, he scarcely adverts to the intimate 
 connection that exists between even his 
 most transitory daily thoughts, words 
 and works, and the manifold and eternal 
 consequences that flow directly from 
 them. In theory, he is ready to admit 
 that Time is the seed of Eternity, and 
 that every waking hour is affecting, 
 for weal or for woe, his endless future. 
 Yet, in practice, he seems scarcely to 
 notice this; and goes about his daily 
 avocations, and carries on his ordinary 
 routine of business, without any anxiety 
 as to the purity of his motives, and 
 unharassed by any special fear lest he 
 should, by carelessness or inattention, 
 interfere with God's plan and disturb the 
 loving designs that his Sovereign Lord 
 has upon him. In short, he rarely has 
 any clear perception that he is actually — 
 here and now — ^laying the foundations 
 and building up the walls of that 
 eternal abode, that "house not made 
 with hands," which he will have to 
 inhabit for evermore. 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 205 
 
 Upon SO vital and so practical a point 
 there should be no delusions; for eternity 
 is not only the greatest of certainties, but 
 it lies exceedingly near — yea, at our very 
 doors, — being separated from us by only 
 the slenderest partition. And, that shell- 
 like barrier once broken through, we enter 
 into a land of which no human being 
 can form any adequate conception. We 
 pass, as millions have passed before us, 
 through the dread gates of Death, and 
 at once we find ourselves in g, totally 
 different environment, with everything 
 on an altered scale. We have outgrown 
 time. Henceforth " Time itself shall be 
 no more."* That mysterious entity that 
 we measure by dials and clocks and 
 revolutions of the earth, and by risings 
 and settings of the sun; that Time which 
 is so indissolubly bound up with our every 
 thought and project, has melted quite 
 away, and Eternity occupies its place. 
 Time is found too cramped and limited 
 to suit the requirements of an immortal 
 spirit, now that it has escaped from its 
 earthly bonds and grown to maturity. 
 
 * Apoc, X, 6. 
 
206 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 We are in a new and permanent state, 
 that can not be computed by years or 
 centuries, and where all is fixed and 
 changeless. Our very soul assumes a 
 different r61e, and finds itself subject 
 to different laws. In this life, sorrow and 
 joy, pleasure and pain, laughter and 
 tears, mingle and intermingle, because 
 such things are all earthly and trivial. 
 Not so in the land beyond the tomb. 
 There the emotions and states of being 
 are far too intense and all-pervading to 
 allow opposite and contending passions 
 to share the same breast. The joys and 
 delights of the glorified soul are such as 
 to fill and occupy its whole being. They 
 lie upon it and cover it as a mighty flood, 
 allowing no little island of sorrow or 
 pain to appear throughout all its calm 
 and measureless expanse. If pleasure 
 be our portion, then pleasure, in all its 
 myriad forms, will wholly absorb us; 
 it will penetrate to every fibre of our 
 being, and leave no rift or crevice for 
 pain or agony to filter through. If, on 
 the contrary, we stand condemned, then 
 pain will take a like possession; it will 
 fasten upon every faculty, and rack each 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 207 
 
 sense, and gnaw each limb with jarring 
 agony, forbidding all approach of peace, 
 all breath of happiness. 
 
 Our life here on earth is lived in the 
 twilight, — a twilight made up of mingled 
 beams from heaven and from hell. In 
 eternity we shall know no twilight, but 
 only ' the full brightness of a cloudless 
 noonday, or else the utter darkness of a 
 starless night; that is to say, either the 
 day of supremest happiness, which men call 
 heaven, or the deep night of quenchless 
 woe, which they call hell. These are the 
 two permanent states, and there is no 
 other; so one of these must be ours when 
 life at last is done. Which shall it be? 
 
 This question is interesting enough 
 when considered in the abstract, or in its 
 bearing upon our relatives and acquaint- 
 ances, or upon the poor creature who died 
 yesterday and whose body lies before us. 
 But it is not till I begin to dissociate 
 myself from the crowd, and to reflect that 
 the choice between these two permanent 
 states, so far as I am concerned, must be 
 made by me, and made soon, that the 
 consideration becomes of quite absorbing 
 interest. That we — that is to say, that I 
 
2o8 DANGBRS OF THE DAV 
 
 and you, gentle reader, — must throughout 
 eternity be either supremely happy or 
 supremely miserable is just as certain as 
 that we must exist at all. 
 
 But the particular point so terrifying 
 and so wholly overwhelming is that so 
 very, very little (at least to our appre- 
 hension) is needed to determine our fate 
 either in the one direction or in the other. 
 An evil need not be certain nor even 
 probable in order to inspire fear; it is 
 enough that it be simply possible. For 
 instance, the bare possibility of being 
 rejected by God and cast into quenchless 
 fires would, did one fully realize it, 
 paralyze one with terror. Yet, so long as 
 life lasts, that is, and must remain, a 
 possibility, to be faced and recognized as 
 a solemn and dreadful truth; for no man 
 can ever fully trust himself, or say how 
 he may act in future and unknown circum- 
 stances.* On the contrary, to trust oneself 
 is to lean on a broken reed: it is he who 
 thinks himself secure that is especially 
 warned to take heed lest he fall. But if a 
 
 * Or even how he now stands. ' ' Who can 
 say, My heart is clean, I am pure from sin?" 
 (Prov., XX, 9.) 
 
DANGERS OP THE DAY 209 
 
 man is foolhardy enough wilfully to live in 
 sin, as thousands do, then what was before 
 nothing more than a frightful possibility 
 becomes a real probability. Such a one 
 lives in actual danger of damnation, and 
 will in all likelihood be damned; for, 
 notwithstanding exceptions, the old rule 
 holds: "As a man lives, so shall he die." 
 With the lurid glare of the quenchless 
 fires on one side of us, and the vision of 
 endless peace on the other, we can not 
 afford to run any needless risk; nor dare 
 we relax our vigilance for even one brief 
 hour. When a traveller has to wend his 
 way along a narrow ledge, amid deep 
 caverns and yawning gulfs and bottomless 
 precipices, a single false step may hurl 
 him headlong to destruction. A sudden 
 slip, a momentary loss of self-control, a 
 slight giddiness, may mean a fall, a crash, 
 an agonizing death. So is it with those 
 who tread the narrow way to heaven. One 
 false step, resulting in grievous sin, may 
 precipitate the soul into the bottomless 
 pit forever. Indeed, to say that this may 
 happen is less than the truth. It has 
 happened; it happens still, again and 
 again, in myriad cases. We ourselves 
 
2IO DANGERS OF THB DAY 
 
 may one day be examples of this truth. 
 Nay, more: we shall be, without any 
 doubt, unless we are resolved carefully 
 and resolutely to keep sin far from us. 
 
 Fortunately, there is nothing on earth 
 or in hell that can imperil our salvation 
 except sin. All else is safe ground. Sin, 
 and sin alone, has power to lay hold of 
 the saintliest and to drag him down from 
 the very threshold of heaven itself, and 
 to fling him headlong. It is the one 
 dreadful dragon, disputing our path and 
 barring the entry into eternal life. Unless 
 he be slain we can not "enter into the 
 joy of the Lord." But here we shall be 
 asked: Are all dangerous temptations 
 and solicitations to sin equally to be feared 
 and avoided? The answer is plain. 
 Though we should fear all, yet some are 
 to be feared far more than others. Hence 
 prudence would suggest that our efforts 
 should be directed chiefly and above all 
 to those which are most dangerous, most 
 widespread, and which experience proves 
 to be most frequently fatal. 
 
 When we study the great black 
 catalogue of sin, we note one which stands 
 out blacker and deeper than all the rest; 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 211 
 
 one that seems to surpass and eclipse all 
 others; one that can boast of more victims 
 than any other, and that has driven more 
 souls to hell, "the house of libertines." 
 It is a sin which reaps a plentiful harvest 
 Virheresoever men and women are gathered 
 together. Where other vices destroy their 
 hundreds, this destroys its thousands. 
 You know, dear reader, the sin to which 
 I refer, and to which alone such words 
 can apply; that sin which is more crafty 
 and insidious it its approach, more blight- 
 ing and desolating in its entry, and more 
 calamitous and far-reaching in its effects, 
 than any other; that terrible sin before 
 which the mightiest quail and the strongest 
 have been known to sink, and which 
 withers up all whom it touches as the 
 scorching winds of the African desert 
 wither up flower and fruit. What is 
 that sin? It is the sin from which the 
 great Apostle St. Paul especially prayed 
 to be delivered; the sin with which 
 our Blessed Lord would never allow His 
 name to be in any way connected;* that 
 
 * Of gluttony, of blasphemy, of sedition, of being pos- 
 sessed by the devil, and of many other things, He allowed 
 men to accuse Him; but He would never permit any one 
 to breathe a suspicion against His spotless purity. 
 
212 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 sin which God hates with a particular 
 hatred; the only sin, indeed, which wrung 
 from His lips an expression of regret that 
 He had ever made man — " It repenteth 
 Me that I have made man,"* — and which 
 broke open the fountains of the deep, and 
 deluged the earth with water that rose 
 and rose till it stood fifteen cubits above 
 the highest mountain peaks, f and left the 
 whole earth desolate, and every city a 
 ruin. It is the sin of impurity, of lust, of 
 unchastity; in a word, sins of the flesh. 
 Of all grave offences, this is the most 
 prevalent. Apostolic men, missionaries, 
 confessors, and directors — in fact, all 
 priests experienced in working amongst 
 and administering to souls, — agree that 
 it is the commonest of all serious sins with 
 which they have to deal. J St. AJphonsus, 
 that great missionary, bishop, doctor, and 
 saint, makes the terrifying avowal that 
 it is his deliberate opinion more men 
 and women are eternally lost through 
 
 * Gen., vi, 7. f Ibid., vii, 20. 
 
 X Thus Father Luis de Granada, O. P., writes: 
 " Este es uno de los vicios mas generates, y mas 
 cosarios y mas furiosos en acom^eier, que hay," 
 
DANGERS OF THE) DAY 2 13 
 
 sins of the flesh, not only than through 
 any other sin taken singly, but than 
 through all other sins put together. In 
 one remarkable passage in his Theology 
 he expresses himself even yet more 
 strongly) for he writes: Non dubito 
 asserere, oh hoc unum impudiciticB vitium, 
 aut saltern non sine eo, omnes damnari, 
 quicumque damnantur. — " I do not hesitate 
 to affirm that all those who are lost are 
 damned on account of sins of impu- 
 rity, or, at all events, are not damned 
 without them."* 
 
 Even physicians, who hear of such sins 
 only in their most aggravated forms, 
 declare that tens of thousands, especially 
 among the youth of the country, ruin 
 their constitution and undermine their 
 strength by unlawful indulgence. More- 
 over, it is a crime which is found 
 everywhere, in a greater or less degree. 
 It attacks all classes, ranks, and profes- 
 sions, from the king upon his throne to 
 the beggar in his lowly hovel, f Wisdom 
 is powerless against it, as we may learn 
 
 * Theol. Moralis. De Sexto — monitum S. 
 Alphonsi. 
 
 t Vincentur specie, qui non vincuntur prselio. 
 
214 DANGSRS OF THE DAY 
 
 from the example of Solomon, who was 
 the wisest of men and yet one of the most 
 profligate. The strongest, unless God 
 protect him, is in its presence as weak 
 and yielding as a babe, as we may gather 
 from the fall of Samson. Yea, even piety 
 and holiness itself will wither away and 
 shrink up before its pestilential breath, 
 as a delicate flower before the scorching 
 tropical sun, — unless, indeed, piety and 
 holiness be guarded by great self-restraint 
 and a careful avoidance of the occasions. 
 This is proved by the appalling example 
 of that holy king and prophet, David, 
 "a man after God's own heart," whose 
 soul was mortally wounded by an in- 
 cautious glance at a forbidden object, 
 which first stirred up the lustful desires 
 of his heart, and then transformed him 
 into an adulterer, as well as into a treach- 
 erous and most cold-blooded murderer. 
 
 The sin of impurity is a source of 
 special danger; in the first place, because 
 man's fallen nature is moved by an 
 insatiable craving for sensual pleasures; 
 in the second place, because he carries 
 about with him all that is requisite for 
 its indulgence; and, in the third place, 
 
DANGERS OP the; DAY 215 
 
 because the opportunity is seldom or 
 never wanting. It is dangerous beyond 
 all other sins, because so slight an indis- 
 cretion and so momentary a consent 
 suffice to render the act or thought 
 mortal. No outward deed need be done, 
 no passing word need be spoken; a mere 
 thought or wish, consciously entertained 
 and wilfully dwelt upon, is enough to 
 wrench asunder every rivet that binds 
 the soul to God, and to set upon it the 
 seal of damnation. Without stirring from 
 his seat, or uttering a syllable, or moving 
 a muscle, a man may harbor a thought 
 which will hold him fast in hell forever. 
 Christ preaching on the Mount said : "It 
 was said to them of old, Thou shalt not 
 commit adultery. But I say to you that 
 whosoever looketh on a woman to lust 
 after her, hath already committed adultery 
 with her in his heart."* 
 
 Although it is not easy to assign 
 a satisfactory reason for it, yet all 
 authorities seem to admit that there is 
 a certain fascination about the temptation 
 to impurity which can be predicated of 
 no other. It finds within us an ally or 
 
 * St. Matt., V, 27, 28. 
 
2l6 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 confederate ready to enter into negotia- 
 tions with it; it strikes its roots in a 
 congenial soil; it wins over the senses 
 and lower powers of the soul almost 
 before the intellect itself is fully aroused 
 and aware of any danger. It throws a 
 spell over the poor victim, and so engages 
 and occupies his attention that he scarcely 
 adverts to the gravity of the evil that 
 is threatening him. Even the very pun- 
 ishments to which it is leading are too 
 dimly seen to scare him from the 
 commission of the crime. The mere con- 
 templation of a forbidden object seems 
 to fascinate the rash beholder, and to 
 keep him spellbound, as a bird is held 
 by the serpent, whose paralyzing look 
 so holds its victim in bondage that it 
 will use neither feet nor wings for flight, 
 though both are free, but will draw nearer 
 and nearer, up to the very jaws of its 
 destroyer, tUl it is at last devoured. 
 
 That there is, in some sense, a stronger 
 propension in our fallen nature toward 
 this sin than toward any other, and a 
 quicker response when the slightest occa- 
 sion presents itself, seems clearly proved 
 by the excessive care and watchfulness 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 217 
 
 that are enjoined by all spiritual writers, 
 and the advice, repeated under so many 
 forms, and by so many experienced 
 directors, to avoid the occasion. The 
 observations of the late Dr. William G. 
 Ward, in this connection, are particularly 
 to the point, and deserving of considera- 
 tion. On p. 389 of his " Nature and Grace " 
 he writes: 
 
 "The propension of the flesh differs in 
 various and most important respects from 
 all others. A very little consideration 
 will sufficiently show this. Suppose it 
 is a fast-day: who ever heard of the 
 notion that the mere sight of meat, much 
 more that the mere reading about it, is 
 so proximate an occasion of sin as to 
 be in itself mortal? Or (to avoid objec- 
 tions which may be raised against this 
 particular instance) suppose I were a 
 Cistercian, and meat were always unlawful 
 to me: who, in such a case, ever heard 
 of a notion like that above imagined? 
 Yet, in matters of impurity, we all know 
 the frightful peril involved in allowing 
 ourselves to gaze on evil objects, or even 
 to read about them. 
 
21 8 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 " Or let me suppose the case of a Chris- 
 tian who was once in the habit of stealing, 
 and by help of his thefts leading a com- 
 fortable and luxurious life, but who has 
 now reformed and belongs to some strict 
 Order. Who ever heard that the contem- 
 plation of wealth — the mere looking at 
 fine equipages, grand appointments, and 
 handsome houses — produces the almost 
 inevitable effect of reviving the passion 
 ' delectatio ' in regard to the old mortal 
 sin? Yet, in the matter of impurity, such 
 would be the case. Nay, take that very 
 propension which, of all, is far the nearest 
 to the one which we are considering, — 
 take the desire of revenge as it exists in 
 an Italian or Spaniard. To a revengeful 
 man, even when reformed, the sight of 
 his enemy might doubtless be a great 
 occasion of sin; but surely no one will 
 deny that such a man may read the 
 accounts of murders in general, and may- 
 enter, too, into every detail and partic- 
 ular of some individual murder where the 
 parties concerned are quite unknown to 
 him, — without so much as a passing 
 temptation to his old sin. How totally 
 opposite is our nature in regard to 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 219 
 
 impurity! Spiritual writers universally 
 recognize this fact. As one instance of 
 such recognition, they will never permit 
 any such detailed consideration of past 
 sins under this head, as they most earnestly 
 recommend in regard to all other sins of 
 whatever kind."* 
 
 Still less will they allow any liberty of 
 the eyes to gaze upon, or to the ears to 
 listen to, what might arouse sinful desires. 
 In no other sin is the connection between 
 the occasion and the fall so close as in 
 sins of the flesh. Any license is dangerous 
 and liable to be fraught with the most 
 fatal consequences. To tamper with evil 
 occasions is like playing with fire — almost 
 always hazardous. The temptation, even 
 though slight at first, has a way of 
 suddenly developing, and enveloping the 
 unhappy victim almost without warning, f 
 To imagine, as some do, that they may 
 approach quite close and yet not be en- 
 gulfed, is one of the commonest delusions 
 
 * The italics are all Dr. Ward's. 
 
 ■\ " Es este juego de tan incontrastable fuerza 
 que no hay quien pueda resistirle," says De 
 Lanuza, Bishop of Barbastro. (" Discursos," 
 vol. V, p. 233.) 
 
220 DANGERS OF THB DAY 
 
 that the devil makes use of to ensnare 
 them. Such a one is too often punished 
 for his presumption by a terrible fall. 
 He resembles a swimmer who should draw 
 near some treacherous whirlpool, and 
 essay how closely he could approach it 
 without being drawn in. So soon as he 
 draws nearer, he feels the force of the 
 rushing waters becoming stronger and 
 stronger, till at last, aroused to a sense 
 of his position, he prepares, when too 
 late, to quit the danger. Too late, indeed ! 
 For now his strength proves unequal 
 to the effort, and he is borne along by 
 the impetuous current, whirled round 
 and round for a moment or two, and 
 finally sucked down below, never to be 
 heard of again. 
 
 Or we may compare such culpable 
 imprudence to that of the moth cir- 
 culating round a candle. It is attracted 
 by the brilliancy of the flame, and urged 
 on by a strong curiosity to approach 
 nearer. It becomes less cautious; and, 
 though it may escape destruction for a 
 short time, full soon it is lapped up 
 by the flickering tongue of fire, and 
 perishes miserably. 
 
DANGERS OP the; day 221 
 
 In times of peace it is natural for man 
 to overestimate his strength and to 
 imagine himself a hero; it is only by 
 actual experience, and under the pressure 
 of strong temptation, that his weakness 
 is made manifest. This is so specially 
 true of the vice of impurity that no one 
 but the most presumptuous and quixotic 
 would be foolhardy enough to run any 
 risk. In the absence of the lascivious 
 object, one feels a strength and a sense 
 of security which is extremely gratifying 
 to one's self-love, but which is liable to 
 be very rudely shaken when the hour 
 of trial is really at hand. Experience 
 proves that even the sturdiest and the 
 most resolute easily deceive themselves. 
 If they do not misjudge their own powers, 
 they are apt greatly to underestimate 
 the seductive force and disconcerting 
 energy and impetuosity of their enemy, 
 before which all their fine resolutions 
 dissolve like mist before the sun. 
 
 What is stronger or harder, what 
 is more stubborn and unbending, 
 than highly tempered steel? With that, 
 men break through rocks and excavate 
 mountains ; yet its strength disappears and 
 
22 2 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 turns to weakness when it is confronted 
 with the fire. Thrust a bar of the most 
 rigid steel into the blazing heat of a 
 furnace. Will it still remain rigid? No! 
 See! It is all undone. It bends and 
 yields like softest wax, and drops away 
 in liquid weakness before so fierce a heat. 
 
 So it is with the soul of man wilfully 
 exposing himself to the fires of impurity. 
 God will, no doubt, protect His faithful 
 children amid even the fiercest flames, as 
 He protected the three children in the 
 Babylonian furnace, " seven times heated " ; 
 but this He will do on one condition : only 
 if, like Sidrach, Misach, and Abdenago, 
 they are thrust in by the hands of others 
 (or by unforeseen or unavoidable circum- 
 stances); not if it be through any wilful 
 imprudence or curiosity of their own. 
 Deliberately to court the danger is to 
 invite a fall. 
 
 We must never forget that to be exposed 
 to temptations which are not of our own 
 choosing, and which are sprung upon us 
 unexpectedly and against our will, is one 
 thing ; while wilfully to go into the danger 
 ourselves, without sufficient cause, is 
 quite another. In the first case, we may 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 223 
 
 reckon with absolute certainty upon God 
 to rescue us if we are faithful to grace; 
 but in the second case we can have no 
 such grounds for confidence: quite the 
 contrary; for we are expressly warned 
 that " to love the danger is to perish in 
 it."* Other vices we may face boldly and 
 fight; in this vice our only safety is in 
 flight, t Nemo mortalium juxta viper am, 
 secures somnos capit. — " No mortal can 
 safely lie down to sleep beside a viper," 
 observes St. Jerome. This is an important 
 warning, which a sad and long experience 
 proves to be much needed; though, 
 unfortunately, but little heeded. 
 
 * Ecclus., iii, 27. 
 
 t This truth is forcibly put by Bp. G. Bautista 
 de Lanuza, who writes: "El Ap6stol Santiago 
 dd per remedio contra Satands hacerlo rostro y 
 resistirle: Resistite diaholo et jugiet a vobis. 
 (Jam., iv, 7.) El mismo consejo nos di6 el Ap6stol 
 san Pedro. (I. Pet., v, 9.) Mas, cuando habla 
 de la lascivia, no dice 'Resistite,' sino ' Fugiie.' 
 Fugite fornicationem. (I. Cor., vi, 18.) Conocia 
 el santo Apostol que los otros vicios pueden 
 vencerse resistiendo, pero que sola la fuga podia 
 ser nuestro preservativo y remeio en este." — 
 " Discursos," vol. v, pp. 262, ,3. 
 
2 24 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 Another circumstance which renders 
 temptations to this ignominious and shame- 
 ful vice so peculiarly difficult to avoid is 
 the fact that they may arise from so 
 great a variety of sources, — ^from pictures, 
 statuary, papers and books, songs, plays, 
 representations, and many other things, 
 as well as from persons. They may enter 
 through the eyes and the ears and the 
 other senses. The gruesome hours of the 
 night are as favorable to the tempter as 
 the gladsome hours of the day; and, 
 strange to say, though youth is the special 
 period of the disorders which we have 
 been considering, mature age and even 
 senility are by no means entirely free 
 from them. 
 
 But of all sources of danger the chief is 
 a bad and corrupt companion. When once 
 it has been our misfortune to make such an 
 acquaintance, there is nothing to be done 
 but get rid of him, without delay, and at 
 any cost. However pleasant and even nec- 
 essary such a person (I can not call him a 
 friend) may be; however closely bound up 
 with our present happiness, and however 
 dear and indispensable, we must steel our 
 hearts, and resolutely determine to break 
 
DANGERS OP THE DAY 225 
 
 through the ties that bind us to him. He 
 may appear to be as necessary to us as our 
 right arm or our right eye. It matters not : 
 the command has gone forth: "If thy 
 right eye scandalize thee, pluck it out and 
 cast it from thee. ... If thy right hand 
 scandalize thee, cut it off, and cast it from 
 thee." And why? Because we must be 
 prepared to make any sacrifice rather than 
 jeopardize our eternal salvation; or, in 
 the words of the inspired writer, because 
 "it is better for thee that one of thy 
 members should perish than that thy 
 whole body should be cast into hell."* 
 That this advice is unquestionably 
 sound, and that our undoubted duty is to 
 follow it, is clear; for it emanates from no 
 less an authority than the Holy Spirit of 
 God. But, alas! even the soundest advice 
 is dif&cult enough to put in practice if, as 
 in the present instance, it does not fall in 
 with our inclinations. But what renders 
 the counsel of the Holy Spirit so partic- 
 ularly hard to men and women of the 
 world is just the very attitude taken up 
 by the world itself. If all were agreed and 
 united in condemning lust and impurity, 
 
 * St. Matt, V, 29, 30. 
 
226 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 even in thought; if there were a strong 
 and pronounced pubHc opinion denouncing 
 all that savors of sensuality, our struggle 
 with corrupt nature would be enormously 
 strengthened and assisted. We should 
 then be swimming in the midst of a strong 
 stream, flowing in the right direction. Its 
 rapid current would support us, and bear 
 us along, almost in spite of ourselves, and 
 our victories would be all practically 
 assured. But, unhappily, this is not the 
 case; nay, the whole current is against 
 us, and we are compelled to offer it a 
 stout resistance. at every step. The world 
 does not judge as God does. It measures 
 the gravity of crimes by quite other 
 standards. It jests lightly about acts 
 of impurity, and treats as pardonable 
 weaknesses and mere peccadilloes and 
 indiscretions what God Himself condemns 
 as the worst of crimes and as a species of 
 idolatry. " No fornicator nor unclean nor 
 covetous person, which is a serving of 
 idols, hath any inheritance in the kingdom 
 of Christ and of God."* 
 
 The fact is, the world is seated in dark- 
 ness, and knows nothing of the enormity 
 
 * Ephes., V, 5. 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 227 
 
 of any sin that is not an offence against 
 itself; least of all does it understand sins 
 of the flesh. It finds a thousand excuses 
 for them, and dismisses the worst excesses 
 as acts of mere human frailty. It does 
 more: it would persuade us that virginal 
 purity is not merely difficult, but unattain- 
 able, and beyond the reach of human 
 nature. It exonerates even the worst 
 offenders, and calmly assures us that 
 men who fall have fallen, not because 
 they are wicked, but because they are 
 weak; not because they are disobedient 
 and rebellious, but because they could 
 not have done otherwise; and that we 
 must excuse them, since " no man is 
 bound to what is impossible." 
 
 This infamous doctrine is put forward 
 and emphasized again and again with 
 the most lamentable results. It is one of 
 the worst falsehoods that has ever issued 
 from the Father of Lies, since it leads to 
 two terrible consequences. In the first 
 place, it robs the sinner of all sense of 
 guilt; for no one can be held responsible 
 for what he really can not help; and in 
 the second place, it leads him to discour- 
 agement and despair. For what is the. 
 
228 DANGERS OF THB DAY 
 
 use of fighting against an invincible foe? 
 Wliy attempt to resist the irresistible? 
 Why struggle and strive and labor when 
 disaster and defeat can be the only possible 
 issue? Once the premise is admitted, the 
 consequences must be admitted too, since 
 they logically follow. But the premise 
 itself is absolutely false. 
 
 It is true, of course, that unassisted 
 nature is powerless before so insidious a 
 foe. It is true that man, when left to 
 himself, is weak and wavering and easily 
 overcome — a mere reed bending before 
 the hurricane, — and so destitute of all 
 moral courage that he must fall miserably. 
 Theologians not only tell us that we can 
 not overcome, but they go so far as to 
 declare that we can not, of ourselves, even 
 engage in battle or offer any resistance 
 to our adversaries.* 
 
 Then is the world's view correct, after 
 all? Is our case really so desperate? Ajid 
 is God asking us to do what He knows 
 surpasses our capabilities? No. The 
 
 * In hoc agone cum laboramus, Deum habe- 
 mus adjutorem; si enim nos Ipse non adjuvat, 
 non dico vincere, sed non pugnare poterimus. — 
 S. Aug. : Serm. clvi. 
 
DANGERS OP THE DAY 229 
 
 answer to this apparent difficulty is simple 
 enough. If God says, "Without Me you 
 can do nothing," He is careful to remind 
 us, at the same time, that "with Him 
 we can do all things." The fact is, we are 
 never alone, never abandoned by God. 
 He puts Himself at our service; He is 
 ever ready to come to our succor; and, 
 so far from its being true that we are at 
 the mercy of the temprer, we are abso- 
 lutely invulnerable and certain of victory 
 if only we have recourse to God by 
 prayer, and correspond with the grace 
 He gives us. 
 
 There is nothing so clearly laid down 
 in the Holy Scriptures as this most con- 
 soling truth: "Whosoever shall call upon 
 the name of the Lord shall be saved."* 
 "He hath regard to the prayer of the 
 humble, and He hath not despised their 
 petition. "t "Who," asks Ecclesiasticus 
 (iii, 12), "hath called upon Him and been 
 despised by Him? For God is compas- 
 sionate and merciful, and a protector to 
 all who seek Him in truth." "I will call 
 upon the Lord," said holy David, " and 
 I shall be saved from my enemies. . . .The 
 
 * Rom., X, 13. t Ps. ci, 18. 
 
230 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 cords of hell compassed me, the snares 
 of death prevented me. In my distress, 
 I will call upon the Lord, and He will 
 hear my voice."* The most violent and 
 fierce temptations may be overcome by 
 the grace derived from God in prayer; 
 yea, though they approach us with all the 
 seductiveness and cunning attributed to 
 the asp and the basilisk, or with all the 
 fury and rage of the lion and the dragon, 
 it matters not; for in either case we have 
 the explicit promise of victory. "Thou 
 shalt walk upon the asp and the basilisk, 
 and thou shalt trample under foot the 
 Hon and the dragon. . . . He shall cry to 
 Me, and I will hear him; I am with him 
 in tribulation. I will deliver him and 
 I will glorify him."t 
 
 The danger of these temptations is 
 admittedly great; yes, exceedingly great. 
 But, remember, the danger arises solely 
 from our own turpitude and cowardice. 
 Provided we honestly wish to conquer, and 
 are willing to make use of the means of 
 victory, we have nothing whatever to 
 fear; for if God be with us, who shall 
 be against us? Indeed we may cry out, 
 
 * n. Kings, xxii, 6, 7. t Ps. xc, 13-15 
 
DANGERS OF THB DAY 23 1 
 
 as confidently as David himself : " Though 
 I should walk in the midst of the shadow 
 of death, I will fear no evils; for Thou, 
 O Lord, art with me."* 
 
 If history is full of examples of the fall 
 of the strong who trusted in their own 
 strength, it is no less full of examples of 
 the triumph of the weak who trusted in 
 God alone. Who can read, for instance, 
 the stirring accounts of such mere children, 
 as St. Cecilia and St. Agnes in modern 
 chronicles, or of the chaste Susannaf and 
 the unconquerable Joseph, { as told in 
 the Holy Scriptures, without realizing 
 the supernatural power of divine grace, 
 and the consequent security of such as 
 put their trust in God? Nor is it necessary 
 to hark back to olden days. What expe- 
 rienced priest is there, now living, who 
 has not again and again met with cases, 
 among his own flock, that have made him 
 pause and marvel at the power of God's 
 protecting care, — cases of young and 
 passionate natures, who have found them- 
 selves amid such dangerous surroundings, 
 and in such equivocal positions, that, 
 humanly speaking, they mtist have fallen, 
 
 * Fs. xxii, 4. t Dan., jciii. t Gen., xx^cix, 
 
232 DANGBRS OF THB DAY 
 
 yet who have stood firm and unbending 
 before the storm! 
 
 The miracle of the three children in the 
 fiery furnace, seven times heated, has been, 
 and is being, re-enacted in every age 
 and in every country of the Christian 
 world, though in these latter instances 
 the flames have been the flames of con- 
 cupiscence; the furnace, the furnace of 
 worldly temptations. We have ourselves 
 met, in great factory towns and in 
 the congested districts of the metropolis, 
 pure and unsullied souls, who, notwith- 
 standing exceptionally trying and difiicult 
 surroundings, have retained their inno- 
 cence and purity, in a way calculated to 
 fill the believer with inexpressible wonder 
 and delight, and whose cases, if known, 
 would stagger and puzzle any scoffer who 
 denies the possibility of Christian virtue. 
 
 The simple fact is, none but those who 
 have witnessed and experienced it can so 
 much as suspect the irresistible efficacy 
 of earnest, humble prayer, the marvellous 
 power of the sacraments worthily received, 
 and the graces that flow from the Holy 
 Sacrifice of the Mass devoutly and 
 frequently heard. Some may make light 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 233 
 
 of such divinely constituted means of 
 perseverance; but he who deliberately 
 doubts on such a point has already, in a 
 sense, lost his faith. For are we not bound 
 to believe that God is infinitely good in 
 Himself; that He loves the creatures He 
 has made; that He can not help loving 
 them and wishing them well; that their 
 fall — if they do fall — must be, not for want 
 of His help, but in spite of it? Does not 
 the Church teach that He loves us incom- 
 parably more than it is possible to imagine 
 or conceive, — yea, that His love is so 
 excessive and so measureless that He gave 
 up His own Son and delivered Him to 
 death, even to the ignominious death of 
 the Cross, that we might not perish 
 everlastingly? 
 
 Then no matter what may be our natural 
 weakness on the one hand, or the violence 
 of temptation on the other, how can we 
 doubt? ^i-. To speak as worldlings speak is 
 an outrage^ against God, and deserving of 
 the severest^censure. In putting forward 
 their mischievous theories in excuse of 
 sensuality and immorality, they do but 
 prove that they know nothing of the 
 
234 DANGERS OF THE DAY 
 
 tenderness and the loving solicitude of 
 their 'Father who is in heaven.' 
 
 " It is not the will of your Father who 
 is in heaven that one of these little ones 
 should perish."* "I will not leave thee, 
 neither will I forsake thee."t "Can a 
 woman forget her infant, so as not to have 
 pity on the son of her womb? And if she 
 should forget, yet will I not forget thee. "J 
 " He that toucheth you toucheth the apple 
 of My eye."§ Do not these and a hundred 
 other texts contain more than a promise 
 of protection to all who are in tribulation? 
 Not a hair of our heads shall be touched, 
 not a stain or blemish shall disfigure the 
 beauty of our souls, so long as we invoke 
 the aid of the King of battles, and are 
 prepared to co-operate with His comfort- 
 ing grace, which is measured out according 
 to the violence of the temptation and to 
 the greatness of our need. After all, there 
 is only one thing wholly and utterly impos- 
 sible to God, and that is that He should 
 abandon a soul that puts its trust in Him 
 and prove unfaithful to His promises. 
 
 * St. Matt., xviii, 14. + Heb., xiii, 5. 
 
 t Is., xlix, 15 § Zach., ii, 8. 
 
DANGERS OF THE DAY 235 
 
 In Te, Domine, speravi, non confundar in 
 CBternum. — " In Thee, O lyord, have I 
 hoped; I shall not be confounded forever." 
 

 
 
 MiiMillllMliliiiiiitiiiiiilliiMiililil