Pt I ch. II art. III. Of the marks and remedies of tepidity

Article III

Of the marks and remedies of tepidity.

Tepidity is an offspring and, as it were, a branch of sloth. ‘Sloth,’ says St. Thomas, ‘is a species of disgust for virtue; it is a languor of soul which causes it to neglect its spiritual welfare; a sadness which oppresses and dejects the heart of man, deprives him, so to speak, of the power of doing good,’ and renders pious exercises and acts of virtue fatiguing and insipid to him.

‘Tepidity,’ say the holy Fathers, ‘is a profound lethargy which arrests its victims on the road to perfection; a fever which gradually undermines the soul and incapacitates it for devotion.

1. Of the marks of tepidity.

They are all delineated by St. Bernard in the following description of a tepid soul. ‘There are,’ says he, ‘in religion, certain slothful and pusillanimous souls, who succumb under the burden of their duty, submit only to the rod of correction, and show occasional and uncertain signs of recollection and compunction. The flesh and the senses engross all their thoughts; their obedience is not the result of faith, their conversations are indiscreet, they pray without attention; they are undeterred by the fear of hell and the scandal of their bad example, they cast off the yoke of discipline and in a great degree the empire of reason; their conduct, in a word, is a guilty license and a perpetual scandal.’ Cassian had already given the chief characteristics of this vice. ‘Tepid religious,’ says he, ‘hate and fear retreat, tire of their cell, despise their brethren, labour slothfully, frequently quit their monastery, are the slaves of sensuality, frequent society, engage in secular business, love idle conversations, are displeased at the charitable admonitions given them, and avail themselves of every pretext for evading them; finally, they bear the yoke of discipline reluctantly, entertain an inordinate attachment for their country and relatives, and indulge in dangerous familiarities.’ Examine yourself seriously and impartially, and see whether you recognise in yourself any of these marks.

1. What is your devotion at prayer and at the Holy Sacrifice, whether as assistant or celebrant thereat? In what manner do you make your general and particular examen? Are you faithful in calling yourself to an account for all your thoughts, words, and actions? With what faith and attention do you recite your vocal prayers, particularly the Divine Office? With what fervour do you approach the holy sacraments of Penance and Communion? If you perform these duties negligently and through routine, you are undoubtedly of the number of those tepid souls whom God threatens to reject.

2. Have you habitually regulated your conduct by certain lax principles, by the aid of which you endeavour to stifle your remorse? For example, have you not said, I am no longer a novice? Why should not so-and-so be permitted to me as well as to others? Must not some allowance be made for youth? Why ruin one’s health by voluntary mortifications? It is better to be wrong with the many than right alone. Religious perfection is only a pious chimera. It is well to court the favour of the great who, should I succeed in pleasing them, may prefer me to my equals. Each one should look after his own interests and not confide them to others. For my part, I will accept of no employments which are likely to be prejudicial to my amusement or aggrandisement; these I will willingly cede to others. There can be no surer proof than this of your being thoroughly tepid.

3. Are you wont to yield to sloth? Do you indulge in too much sleep? Do you study your ease and self-gratification? Are you not too fastidious with regard to food, seeking the gratification of your palate and senses on all occasions? Once more, should such immortification be the rule of your conduct, it is another proof that you are tepid, you are the victim of a most dangerous disease, and will require a most skilful and enlightened physician to prescribe efficacious remedies for you.

Amongst those remedies the principal are an undeviating fidelity to daily meditation, spiritual reading, and the habit of devoting one day of each month to retreat.

I name these the principal remedies because there are also others which are very beneficial, as, for example, to frequent the society of the most fervent, and avoid that of the tepid, edifying conversations, seclusion from the world, the practice of mortifications, great zeal in daily visiting the Blessed Sacrament, and, lastly, the pious custom of making aspirations, particularly when the clock strikes. I merely glance at these last, in order more fully to develop the three first, which I regard as the most efficacious and important.

2. Of the remedies for tepidity.

If the total abandonment of prayer, or even a mere inconsistency in this holy exercise, is one of the chief sources of tepidity, so a generous and persevering performance of it is the most excellent and certain means of extirpating this vice. Prayer is as indispensable for the preservation of fervour as food is for the life of the body. This simile is beautifully expressed by St. Augustine, who says: ‘As material food constitutes the sustenance of the body, so a spirit of prayer and union with God is the food and life of the interior man.’ And, to remove all doubt of the efficacy and importance of meditation, he adds: ‘A reasonable soul cannot live any other life than that which it draws from its communion with God in prayer.’

Here, then, we have an irrefragable authority for the absolute necessity for this holy exercise. It is clear that as the soul derives its life from its communings with God in prayer, it must expose itself to inevitable shipwreck the moment it deprives itself of this spiritual nutriment. The Royal Prophet assures us of his personal experience of this truth. ‘My heart,’ says he, ‘is withered because I forgot to eat my bread.’ Mark well the words—as soon as he ceased to take his food his heart withered! What the sinews are to the limbs, what an invigorating beverage is to the fainting heart, what blood is to the body, such is meditation to the soul, and without it there is ‘no means left of advancing in the spiritual life.’

Besides, reason renders the same testimony, for it is impossible to preserve the fervour of our soul in all its vigour unless our mind meditates frequently on the eternal truths, and our will excites itself to the constant practice of them. Now, we accomplish this twofold exercise of the mind and will by mental prayer, which St. Ambrose styles on this account ‘the substantial food of our soul.’ Let us acknowledge, therefore, that meditation is an equally essential and potent remedy against tepidity. Let us now examine whether we have devoted to meditation the full time prescribed for it. Have we made it in a respectful posture, with attention and fervour? Devoted sufficient time and care to its preparation? Made a short review at its close of the way in which we have performed it, and the fruit we have derived from it? Recalled frequently during the day the thought selected by us for the spiritual bouquet? We should lose no time in correcting whatever defects we may observe in any of these points. For the rest, this matter is so important that we shall resume and treat of it at greater length in the second part of this work. We have said that spiritual reading is another powerful antidote against tepidity. Let us see with what assiduity we apply ourselves to it. Have we not, by a neglect of it, exposed ourselves to the danger of falling into or continuing in tepidity? Have we devoted at least a quarter of an hour to it daily? The Holy Scriptures, say the Fathers, are faithful mirrors in which the soul may, without fear of illusion, discover the stains it has contracted, and from which it should purify itself. They are letters from our heavenly country, written by the finger of God, containing the true principles and solid maxims of sanctity; friendly monitors which freely reprehend our vices; skilful physicians which teach us the most effectual remedies for our spiritual maladies. In a word, the reading of good books provides us with excellent weapons against temptation, renews the fervour of the tepid, augments the charity of the just, confirms the constancy of the perfect, and renders the practice of meditation easy and profitable to us. St. Paul makes it strictly obligatory on Timothy: ‘Attend unto reading;’ and St. Jerome exhorts Celantia to it: ‘I advise and recommend above all things, I even earnestly entreat you, to nourish your soul assiduously with spiritual reading: it is the surest means of conducting you to the perfection of justice.’ But that this exercise may be profitable to us, we should understand how to make a suitable selection of books and to pursue a good method of reading. The same book does not suit all persons, nor is it even adapted to the same individual under all circumstances. A choice, therefore, is absolutely essential. We should prefer those which abound more in unction than in erudition; those which are more calculated to inflame the heart and determine the will than to gratify curiosity; those most in accordance with our actual wants, and which most forcibly inculcate the mortification of the senses, hatred of vice, and love of virtue. ‘The object of a spiritual lecture is not to make us more learned, but to make us live better; not to enable us to speak more eloquently, but to help us to advance more rapidly in perfection. In effect, what avails it to learn one’s duty and not to do it?’ For this reason I do not approve of spending the time destined for spiritual reading in making extracts or taking notes, as this would degrade it to a study; it would be preferring the letter to the spirit. We should, on the contrary, read in order to become holy rather than learned, for as Hugh of St. Victor remarks: ‘A pious lecture should not be an object of study for the Christian philosopher, but an exhortation to virtue.’

This exercise cannot fail to be profitable to us if we make it with attention, a religious spirit, and perseverance. St. Augustine demands attention to reading, and shows its importance in his letter to Demetrius: ‘You shall have made a good use of spiritual reading,’ says he, ‘if it is a sincere mirror in which your soul, beholding itself, endeavours to efface the stains which it discovers, and to enhance the beauty of the virtues with which grace has adorned it.’ We should read spiritual books carefully and attentively, not hastily or superficially. We should pause occasionally on those truths which make most impression on us, the better to remember the holy lessons they convey. Above all, we should take care to make practical resolutions during the lecture, in accordance with the good thoughts it suggests, such as to perform such and such an act of virtue, to correct such or such a defect, and to acquit ourselves more faithfully of the obligations of our state or employment.

What testimony does our conscience give on this matter? Has our lecture, penetrating our soul like a soft-refreshing dew, fructified our good desires? or has it, like an impetuous torrent, dashed rapidly through our minds without leaving any trace of it behind? Do we reflect from time to time on the lessons it imparts, for the purpose of reducing them to practice? Do we not resemble ‘a man who, beholding his own countenance in a glass, goes away, and presently forgets what sort of man he is?’ Let us, at least, who read these lines, avoid such culpable carelessness. The religious spirit which ought to pervade our spiritual reading should be manifested exteriorly by the recollection and gravity of our deportment. ‘Read the Holy Scripture,’ says St. Augustine, ‘remembering that it is the Word of God;’ ‘it is a letter from our country,’ adds St. Bernard; ‘and in the divine pages of the Sacred Book,’ subjoins St. Ambrose, ‘it is Jesus Christ who speaks to us.’ Is it not evident that so holy a lecture should be made in a respectful posture, with the heart elevated to God, and the soul permeated with holy affections and desires?

Our lecture must be characterised by perseverance both as to time and method.

Let us not emulate the inconstancy of the butterfly, flitting lightly from page to page, and from book to book, without gathering fruit from any. Never lay a book aside till you have read it through, otherwise your lecture will only be a source of distraction to you. We should regulate the hour at which we are to make and the length of time we are to spend at it every day without exception. We should, at least, devote a quarter of an hour to it, and, if possible, make it immediately after meditation. Such is the assiduity required by St. Jerome to this exercise, that, writing to St. Paula, he says: ‘Do not lay down the Holy Book till overcome by sleep, and then let your head rest on the sacred pages.’ However, this advice must not be followed literally, for the same doctor teaches that, ‘an excessive love of reading may prove a source of danger by inducing satiety and disgust.’ Writing to Eustochium, he says: ‘Read with moderation, and let it not be weariness, but the rule you have imposed upon yourself, which shall cause you to lay down the Book.’

With what attention, devotion, and perseverance do we purpose making our spiritual lecture in future? For what length of time, and at what hour, will we make it? Finally, what advantage do we propose to reap from this remedy against tepidity? The Fathers place this exercise on an equality with meditation, and even give it the preference over the hearing of the word of God, naming it the nourishment, light, and life of the soul. Our holy founder, St. Ignatius, advises, nay, prescribes it to us as a duty of the utmost importance. The masters of the spiritual life, taught by constant experience, recommend a day’s retreat every month as a very efficient means for conquering tepidity, and acquiring fervour. Should we think well of adopting this advice, we must arrange beforehand the day most convenient for this purpose.

Two hours will be sufficient to devote to it, one being given to the usual morning meditation, and the other divided between the examen, which should be made on the eve, and the consideration, which should be made on the day itself. God will amply indemnify us for these two hours taken from our ordinary occupations by the success with which He will bless our undertakings, and the signal graces with which He will enrich our souls. Let us not, therefore, be so inimical to our eternal interests and the glory of God as to refuse a few brief moments to our spiritual welfare, we who waste whole months and years on our material wants, and even on nonsensical trifles. As I intend to revert to this subject in the second part of this work, I shall not insist further on it here. I will barely add that generous and voluntary corporal mortification is another very efficacious remedy for tepidity and a very powerful weapon against the demon of sloth. However, as I am addressing tepid souls, whom the mere mention of mortification fills with dismay, I will not venture to broach this subject.

To conclude, I am fully persuaded that the faithful observance of the rules just indicated will enable us to triumph over tepidity, and soon make us formidable to hell by our fervour. Let us, then, avail ourselves of them, and soon every vestige of this odious vice shall vanish.