Pt I ch. VI arts. I–III. Of sloth in rising in the morning (paras 748–790)

ARTICLE I.

Sloth in rising is a sin.

First proof.—This species of sloth is a very considerable venial fault. This proposition may be rendered evident by a comparison. ‘Know,’ says St. Augustine and this is likewise the doctrine of St. Gregory and St. Thomas; ‘know that it is a venial sin not to stop at what is necessary in eating and drinking.’ Now the inference I purpose to draw from these words is, that we also sin venially every time we give more time to sleep than the exigencies of the body require. In effect, since St. Thomas does not hesitate to affirm that ‘the disorderly appetite in the use of food is a sin,’ it is impossible to exonerate the abuse of sleep from all fault, because the arguments adduced against the first of these irregularities holds equally with regard to the other. ‘All sensible and delectable things,’ says St. Thomas, ‘destined for the use of man, refer to the present life as to their end.’ Mark these words, ‘All delectable things.’ Consequently even sleep should be regulated by our necessity and want; such is the order of Nature, and the end it has in view in the destination of the things of which it allows us the use.

This is a strict and necessary consequence of the principle of St. Thomas, that ‘the necessity or wants of the present life should be our absolute rule and constant measure in the use of delectable things.’ It is certain, therefore, that everyone who, in defiance of this rule, grants to sleep more than is requisite reverses the order of Nature, opposes its ends, resists the law of reason, and by this very fact incurs guilt. It is a venial sin ‘to eat and drink even with moderation, if’ solely ‘through a motive of pleasure.’ This is irrefragably proved by Cardenas, in commenting on the eighth proposition condemned by Innocent XI. He demonstrates that the denial of this truth merited the condemnation of the proposition quite independently of its other assertions. Is it not evident that it is a sin to sleep merely for pleasure as well as to eat and drink through this motive? True, the lovers of sleep will not want for pretexts to justify their sloth; but their conscience, which will not be silenced, attests that, instead of taking necessity for their rule, they seek only the sweets of sleep and of indolent repose: wherefore we must say of an irregular love of sleep, as well as of the natural appetite for eating and drinking, that it is illicit in its acts when the pleasure found therein constitutes our sole and ultimate motive. The opposite conclusion has been implicitly condemned with the eighth of the propositions of which we have just spoken, since the selfsame reasons militate against it. The pleasure that accompanies sleep is not wrong if referred to a nobler end; but it is not allowable to enjoy it as an absolute and desirable good in itself. It was the appreciation of this truth that inspired Seneca’s beautiful reply to the disciple of Epicurus: ‘You enjoy the pleasures of life, I, for my part, am satisfied to have the use of them.’

Objection. You allege that to listen to sweet music, to inhale the fragrance of a flower, to enjoy the relaxation of hunting and walking purely for the pleasure these amusements afford is not a fault; therefore, it cannot be wrong to remain in bed longer than we require merely for sensual gratification. I reply in the first place that the proposition on which this objection is based is itself virtually contained in the eighth proposition already quoted and consequently condemned with it. Such is the opinion of Cardenas, who supports it by the authority of St. Thomas.

But even supposing that the opinion on which our adversaries found the objection were incontrovertible, still the actions they oppose to us differ too materially from that of which there is question here to admit of the same conclusion being applicable to all.

The pleasure found in sleep and food is the means employed by Divine Providence to induce us to make use of them, in order to repair our physical strength. To desire this pleasure directly therefore, to make it our ultimate end, and not to stop at what is necessary, would be to reverse the order of nature. But, on the contrary, relaxation of mind being the proper and direct end which nature proposes to itself in the actions objected against us, we may desire the innocent and beneficial enjoyment found in them, in virtue of, and through the motive of their own utility.

These same actions possess another advantage: the charm of music, for example, is calculated to elevate our hearts above terrestrial thoughts, whilst excess of sleep stupefies the mind and induces sensuality. How vast the contrast, therefore, between these different actions! And even allowing that it were lawful in the first to propose the legitimate pleasure they afford as our actuating motive, would it follow that the unnecessary prolongation of sleep would be exempt from sin? Certainly not, and I persist in maintaining that it is a real fault as well as intemperance in eating and drinking would be.

Second proof. We sin every time that we voluntarily and without sufficient cause do anything that we know is likely to be the occasion of unchaste temptations. All theologians admit this principle of morality. But the slaves of sloth know well by experience that there is danger in remaining too long in bed, particularly when they have ceased to sleep, because it is at that time especially that the flesh rebels against the spirit, filling it with evil thoughts and sinful reminiscences and imaginations. They sin then if they are in danger of consenting to them, they sin venially or even mortally, according as the danger is remote or proximate. This sloth, as inexcusable as detrimental, since it is deliberate, is the cause of our daily tepidity, which is at least a venial sin, and which considerably diminishes, if it does not rob us altogether of the merit of our actions.

If we love God, if we fear offending Him, if we are truly convinced of the malice, the dreadful effects and the chastisement due to venial sin, let us sincerely detest and manfully strive against the unworthy sensuality which retains us in bed.

ARTICLE II.

Sloth is a shameful sin.

1. Sloth renders us an object of derision to others.

The slothful man incurs the reprimands of his superiors, the raillery of his equals, and often the contempt of his inferiors, who make no effort to conceal it from him. But what is worse, he becomes the laughing-stock of the devil himself, who exercises a power over the senses, imagination, and faculties of the slothful scarcely inferior to satanic possession. Such is the state of torpor and inertness into which he throws them, that they remain in bed like a mass of lead and almost as incapable of quitting it.

Nailed, so to speak, to his pillow, the sluggard yields himself up completely to sensual enjoyment. Incapable of ascending heavenwards, his thoughts grovel on the earth, while his soul, equally material with his body, loses all its energy as well as all aspirations after spiritual things.

This miserable state at length becomes an inveterate habit, or rather a second nature, a subject of dishonour to man, whose dignity is so much compromised by this degrading inaction. Justly, therefore, does the victim of this vice forfeit the esteem in which he was hitherto held and reap only humiliation and contempt.

2. It makes us ashamed of ourselves.

How can the sluggard fail to be ashamed of himself?

In becoming the slave of sleep he assimilates himself to the brute creation; he yields a degrading submission to the sensuality which predominates over him, and with which he shall reproach himself as soon as he has risen.

Should he make a resolution to resist sloth, the devil, who knows well how to vanquish it on the onset, insultingly derides the perpetual inconstancy of the slothful. Behold the degraded and abject state to which this vice reduces us. How can it fail to inspire us with horror?

ARTICLE III.

Sloth is a very pernicious sin.

1. It injures the success of prayer.

One of the most baneful consequences of sloth is its effect on prayer, of which it not only causes the ill-success, but frequently the entire omission. Whilst fervent and generous souls, prostrate from early dawn before the throne of God, render to Him a tribute of prayer and praise, the sluggard, lolling lazily in bed, indulges in culpable and luxurious indolence. Or should human respect rather than the voice of conscience force him to rise, reluctantly tearing himself from the blankets, he repairs to the place of prayer, in which, however, his body alone is present; his soul, weighed down with drowsiness, pays no attention to what it says. Overcome by listlessness and sleep, he throws himself on a chair or form, or else gives free scope to distractions. His thoughts wander through the house and town, they traverse the world from end to end. His prayer is devoid of fruit; he even does himself irreparable injury by his carelessness in this exercise, if indeed he do not altogether omit it.

2. It is a source of tepidity.

A second effect of sloth is tepidity, which is directly antagonistic to the perfect love of God, the ruin of all virtues and the origin of all kinds of vices; since it is from it that inattention in offering the Holy Sacrifice, indevotion at the Divine Office, loss of interior recollection, constant dissipation of mind, dislike to solitude and mortifications, intemperance in the use of food, spiteful and injurious words, relaxation of morals, buffoonery at recreation, want of guard over the senses, fear of labour and disgust for rule, take their rise. In fine, tepidity insinuates itself like a subtle poison into all the actions of our life, injuring them to such a degree that instead of meriting treasures of grace and glory for us, they prepare a long and rigorous expiation for us in the other life. What a host of evils for our souls!

3. It arrests the stream of graces.

Finally, sloth deprives us of the supernatural lights and inspirations of the Holy Ghost as well as of the special helps, protection, and even guidance of the Almighty, and of that more special love which induces Him to take His children to His paternal bosom where our innocence is sheltered ‘from the arrow that flieth in the day, of the business that walketh about in the dark, of the invasion, or of the noon-day devil.’ Delivered up to our own weakness without being proportionately sustained by the hand of God, we fall into the greatest disorders, contradictions with our superiors, disputes with our equals, and shameful carnal temptations till we easily reach the confines of mortal sin.

Experience daily teaches that sloth is a great obstacle to the divine favours. But the disgrace of the Sulamitess as recorded in the Sacred Canticles is also a most striking illustration of this truth. She did not rise promptly when she heard ‘the voice of her beloved knocking,’ she alleged to herself a thousand frivolous excuses for deferring to open the door, she wished to be entreated before quitting her bed. What anguish and sufferings did not this neglect cost her subsequently. Ashamed and repentant ‘she rose at length to open to her beloved;’ she opened in effect, but ‘He had already turned aside and was gone.’ Restless and uneasy ‘she sought’ this Heavenly Spouse in meditation, but ‘she found Him not.’ She called Him, but with a voice enfeebled by tepidity, and ‘He did not answer her.’ Unable longer to endure solitude, she sought the society of creatures and gave herself up to dissipation; she went out, she traversed the city to beg consolation from the daughters of Jerusalem. Hapless being! ‘the keepers of the walls,’ that is the demons, ‘who as roaring lions go about seeking whom they may devour,’ struck and wounded her, and finally despoiled her of her mantle, the robe of innocence, as the Fathers interpret it, with which she was adorned. What multiform misfortunes for this miserable soul!

4. Answers to the excuses of the slothful.

Let us beware of assuming with the slothful that every trifling ache and lassitude necessitate our prolonging sleep and are sufficient pleas to exempt us from sin. Sometimes, it is true, we find it needful to give a little more time to sleep than usual; but it is likewise true that self-love often deceives us by magnifying into a necessity what is in reality only an exaction of passion; it construes into physical debility what is merely inactivity of the soul, whilst it qualifies as mental exhaustion what is in reality but pure indolence. Well, then, do we deserve that they should say to us, ‘your fever is sloth, your disease sensuality.’

If we would not cruelly deceive ourselves in an affair so important and on which our advancement in virtue in a great measure depends, let us weigh before God the specious pretexts which are usually alleged and which are but too often the vain excuses of an immortified flesh. Generally speaking, our pretended malady has no existence save in our imagination. At other times we regard a trifling indisposition as a serious illness requiring care. It may even happen, as St. Pacomius, St. Teresa, and several other holy persons have experienced, that many of these ailments are but temptations of the devil who disturbs and disarranges our humours, though we regard them as symptoms of fever. These slight illnesses are not cured by prolonging sleep: on the contrary, the best remedy for them is to rise generously and even employ the strokes of the discipline to awaken our slothful flesh.

But even admitting that we are really fatigued, what good can a quarter or half an hour longer in bed do us? Certainly the indisposition must be light indeed that yields to such a cure. ‘I am as yet only convalescent,’ adds another; ‘I very much need repose.’ Alas! when human respect is in question, the sacrifice of half an hour costs us but little, and we willingly anticipate our hour for rising though our head continue to ache! Why then should not the love of God have sufficient influence with us to obtain from us half an hour of our rest. Is it not astonishing that this noble and religious motive should have less weight with us than human respect?

‘But every morning on awaking, I am bathed in perspiration, and it is dangerous to rise while in this state, particularly if located in a cold, damp room.’ The reply is easy, a person remains in bed either to cause the perspiration to dry up, which is prejudicial to health, or to excite it still more: but on this second supposition, is he dispensed from rising? is it a necessity for remaining longer in bed; for when he has continued to excite the perspiration he will at length be obliged to wipe it off; he cannot always keep his head on the bolster, and the room will be as damp at six as at five. Why, therefore, not do at five what you will have to do at six? Then is it becoming in a religious, who is bound to seek for mortification, to be more solicitous for his body than for his soul?

A moment since we were ready to expatriate ourselves and to brave torments and death at the hands of infidels, and now we scarcely venture to lift our head from off the pillow.

To-day we solemnly offer ourselves to God to undertake apostolic labours at the peril of our lives, and to-morrow the least indisposition retains us in the blankets. Redoubtable athletes whose bed is their arena! formidable antagonists of hell, since the devil needs but a mattress and a bolster to hold us captive in our degrading indolence.

Let us be persuaded that corporal infirmity, as a rule, is but a poor apology for prolonging sleep. Others allege their incapacity for meditation unless their mind be relaxed by long slumbers. This excuse is of about as much value as the preceding. Prometheus-like, there is no form which self-love does not assume to deceive us in this matter.

Habitual promptitude in rising dispels all these clouds; while prolonged sleep, on the contrary, accumulates and deepens them. Nevertheless, if we absolutely require somewhat more sleep, we must select a favourable moment for it, which shall not be prejudicial either to our reason or to our other occupations; let us therefore take a little rest on a chair during the course of the day. You will repose better in bed, do you say? Yes, more comfortably I allow, but not more appropriately. In effect, to consecrate the first-fruits of the day to self-love, sensual enjoyments and the devil; to commence it by venial sin, by contempt of the inspirations of grace and remorse of conscience, by forgetfulness of Jesus Christ, who anxiously solicits us to come and adore Him in the blessed Eucharist; to sacrifice so many degrees of grace and glory to sleep and indolence; to remain buried in slumber when the morning stars already praise the Lord, when so many of our friends, of our companions, and even of seculars, are prostrate before the august Sacrament of the Altar, and assisting at the Holy Sacrifice; when, in fine, labourers and artisans have begun their daily toil: is not such conduct in a religious bound to obey the first sound of the bell; in a priest destined to offer the adorable Victim of Calvary on that same day, and called to surpass the angels in sanctity, most dangerous, contemptible, and reprehensible?

If we have at heart our sanctity, perfection, and salvation, let us not dispute with duty ‘when the hour of rising shall have arrived.’ Let us immediately spring out of bed, saying with blessed Berchmans: O God, Creator of the day, may ‘I die rather than transgress my rule even in its least important point,’ and particularly in the ‘article’ which obliges me to rise promptly when the appointed hour has come. This fidelity will insure perfect peace and tranquillity to our soul for the remainder of the day.

‘Let us not sleep, as others do: but let us watch,’ for ‘the mercy of the Lord is as the morning cloud, and as the dew that goeth away in the morning’ before the rays of the sun; ‘it shall leave in dryness’ him whom it finds in bed on its passage. ‘Darkness shall cover him, and he shall be wrapped up in bitterness.’ When the moment of calling comes ‘harden not your hearts,’ but arise from sleep, ‘for behold the Lord will come out of His place to visit you.’ ‘Blessed are those servants, whom the Lord shall find watching,’ and already engaged in prayer when he comes. ‘Amen I say to you,’ ‘He will dispose their hearts to ascend by steps, by which they shall go from virtue to virtue till it shall be granted them to see the God of gods in Sion.’