Now, according to general observation, the sleep from the real night to the real morning, that is to say, which is taken in the interval of nine and five or six o'clock, is the best, the most salutary, and the most favorable to health. I do not say that it is absolutely necessary to sleep all the time, I have indicated: this is merely the space designed to choose one's hours of sleep. Let us willingly admit all the exceptions necessitated by transitory relations; but, as a general thesis, it is better to retire early and rise early in the morning. It is the best, the most favorable time for the nocturnal bath we call sleep; the body better refreshes itself, the repose is more conformable to the laws of nature; therefore is it sweeter, at once lighter and more profound, and has not the heaviness which indicates an abnormal condition. Sleep, prolonged too much in the morning because it has been retarded at night, has serious inconveniences. It communicates to the general system a sickly languor which becomes the habitual condition of certain temperaments. Life with them is a sort of perpetual convalescence, and never do they enjoy the most precious gift of nature, a state of health, truly and solidly established. See, on the contrary, these robust village girls; at night at an early hour they demand of their beds the repose for their tired members; in the morning they rise with the crow of the cock. In winter, the fire is lighted at dawn of day on the domestic hearth; the house-keeping is arranged, the order of the day disposed in advance, the breakfast of the laborers is ready to be served, and the sun has not yet appeared above the horizon. During the summer, these same children of the village accompany the star of day in its matutinal march; their chests dilate, and they strengthen themselves in breathing the fresh and perfumed air shed with the rays of sun, and they seem to breathe life and health. Later these same girls marry, and, if they are not imprudent, they may for many years continue an existence made up of fruitful labor, and ornamented sometimes with all the charms and freshness of a vigorous old age; for their regimen is an excellent medicine which gives them a commission of long life.
But whence, on the contrary, comes that weakness of temperament so observable in women of the world? It may be deduced from various causes, but one of the principal is the mode of life too generally adopted, especially in large cities. A part of the night is spent in soirées, to finish only with longer matinées; a portion of the day is given to sleep, and from this results a general debility of constitution, fatigue of the nervous system, a numbness of the organs, and in all an habitual and continual prostration. There may be exceptional temperaments that resist these effects; but it is incontestable, in the eyes of an impartial observer, that the loss of health, especially among women, is due in great part to the life of excess I here mention. "Prolonged night watches," said a learned man, "necessarily bring on a fatigue which bears on the brain and on the digestive and respiratory organs. And fatigue of this nature, far from favoring sleep, renders it incomplete and painful. From thence, in great measure, comes this valetudinary state which we meet with so habitually among the women of our cities; balls and soirées ruin their health in advance, and it is often on youth even, but still oftener in ripe and old age, that the foolish and miserable dissipations of the world leave their sad and fatal impress." [Footnote 253]
[Footnote 253: Leçons de la Nature, nouvelle édition, par M. Desdouits, 1. 3. 188e considér, t. iii. p. 125.]
You would, then, condemn soirées? I pray you to remark that, if there is something to condemn, it is not I who condemns them; these are facts according to nature and the temperament of the human body. Is it not true that the health of many women of the world is weakened? No one can deny this. Is it not also true that one of the principal causes is the world's manner of organizing social relations? It is a fact of which science every day gives undeniable proof. I am far from condemning soirées; and perhaps you have not forgotten that, in our reunions, I applied myself some years ago to show you how religion was the friend of honest pleasures and the demands of society; on condition that they should be regulated by wisdom, and that the interests of both body and soul were faithfully managed; for so greatly does Christianity respect our bodies that we can sin in compromising one's health by serious imprudences. Merry conversations in the evening have all sorts of advantages. They divert the mind, refresh the body, bring hearts together, dissipate clouds, and bind more closely the ties of family and friendships. In a certain degree, pleasures are necessary to man. I speak of innocent pleasures that virtue can admit, and those who entertain some doubt in this respect can consult the writings of the greatest theologians of the church, and especially St. Thomas. This great doctor has on this point a clearness and precision, and at the same time a reason and wisdom, at once full of reserve and condescension. The rule he establishes is to use all pleasure with moderation, according to time, place, and the circumstance of those with whom we live: moderatè pro loco, et tempore, et congruentiâ eorum quibus convivit, (temperatus.) [Footnote 254]
[Footnote 254: See in particular L'Ethique et La Somme.]
"There are many people," said Fenélon, "who like to groan over everything, and weary themselves continually by encouraging a disgust for all rational amusement. For me, I avow I could not accommodate myself to such rigidity. I like something more simple; and I believe that God himself likes it much better. When diversion is innocent in itself, and is entered into according to the rules of the state wherein Providence has placed us, then I believe all required of us is to take part in it, as in God's sight and with moderation. Manners more rigid and more reserved, less complaisant and less open, only serve to give a false idea of piety to worldly people, who are already sufficiently prejudiced against it, and who believe God is only served through a sombre and mortified life." [Footnote 255]
[Footnote 255: Avis a une Personne de la Cour. Manuel de Piété. Ed. Dupanloup.]
We would wish, then, that Christian societies would adopt for their maxim these beautiful words of St. Chrysostom: "Christians have the sense for delicate pleasures, but decency should preside over all." It is impossible to make more reasonable concessions to human nature, but is not religion authorized, therefore, to show herself severe to all who exceed the bounds of wisdom, conformity, and virtue, and even for all who compromise the interests of health or fortune? Would it not be possible, to return to our subject, to combine in our reunions of family and society everything for the general good and the vigorous health of actual generations? Allowing for exceptional circumstances, where one may be obliged to be up later, would it not be possible to make soirées shorter, rendering them, at the same time, more agreeable and more frequent, more salutary and less compromising to health? This is the problem I propose to solve; and is it not a singular thing that here religion interposes to say to you, Think of the interests of your bodies; you sin the same by seriously neglecting them? "Hoc esset peccatum" said St. Thomas. This excess in the length of soirées comes to us from paganism. In the time of Seneca they existed, and these are the terms which this philosopher used toward them: "There are people who reverse the uses of day and night. Thus, nothing looks more sad and broken-down than the appearance of such persons, who are, so to say, dedicated to the night; their color is that of sick people, they are pale and languishing, carrying a dead flesh in a living body. And this is not the only evil: their minds are surrounded by shadows apparently, benumbed, and inhabiting the clouds. Is it possible not to deplore an irregularity which banishes the light of day, and passes life in darkness and shade?" [Footnote 256]
[Footnote 256: Epist. 122.]
Sometimes I am asked, if religion were to command half the sacrifice that the world demands if it ordered a part of every night spent in fatiguing both body and soul, what would not be said against it? What anathemas, what bitter reproaches! But the world speaks, and no one says anything; we are enchanted, or, at least, appear so. St. Francis de Sales has given us, on this subject, some reflections wherein the delicate point of a pleasant malice is touched with superior reason, and I should reproach myself did I not present them to you: "We have seen gentlemen and ladies pass not only one night, but several in succession at play—worldly people said nothing, friends gave themselves no trouble concerning them; but let us give one hour to meditation, or rise a little earlier than usual to prepare for communion, these same friends would run for the doctor to cure us of jaundice or hypochondria. We may occupy thirty nights in dancing, no one complains; but for the single watch of Christmas night every one coughs, and cries next day with the stomach-ache."