Of Pastimes and Games; and First, of Those Which Are Permitted and Praiseworthy.
It is necessary sometimes to give our mind, and even our body, some sort of recreation. Cassian relates that a hunter once found Saint John the Evangelist holding a partridge upon his fist, and amusing himself by stroking it. The hunter asked him why a man of his character spent his time on so vile and lowly a thing; and Saint John said to him: “Why do you not always keep your bow bent?” “For fear,” replied the hunter, “that, if it remained always bent, it should no longer have the strength to bend when there is need.” “Be not then astonished,” replied the apostle, “if I give some respite to my mind, and take a little recreation; for this is the means whereby I may afterwards apply myself more earnestly to contemplation.” Assuredly, it is a perversity to be so strict and so stern as to be unwilling to take any kind of recreation oneself, or to permit it to others.
Taking the air, walking, conversing on cheerful and pleasant subjects, playing the lute or some other instrument, singing to music, and going hunting, are recreations so seemly that, to use them well, one needs only that common prudence which assigns to everything its proper rank, time, place, and measure.
It is necessary sometimes to give our mind, and even our body, some sort of recreation. Cassian relates that a hunter once found Saint John the Evangelist holding a partridge upon his fist, and amusing himself by stroking it. The hunter asked him why a man of his character spent his time on so vile and lowly a thing; and Saint John said to him: “Why do you not always keep your bow bent?” “For fear,” replied the hunter, “that, if it remained always bent, it should no longer have the strength to bend when there is need.” “Be not then astonished,” replied the apostle, “if I give some respite to my mind, and take a little recreation; for this is the means whereby I may afterwards apply myself more earnestly to contemplation.” Assuredly, it is a perversity to be so strict and so stern as to be unwilling to take any kind of recreation oneself, or to permit it to others.
Taking the air, walking, conversing on cheerful and pleasant subjects, playing the lute or some other instrument, singing to music, and going hunting, are recreations so seemly that, to use them well, one needs only that common prudence which assigns to everything its proper rank, time, place, and measure.
Games in which the prize serves as the reward and recompense for bodily or mental skill, such as tennis, ball, mall, ring races, chess, and draughts, are recreations good and lawful in themselves. Only, one must beware of excess, either as to the time spent at them or as to the stake involved. For if one spends too much time at them, they are no longer a recreation, but an occupation; they refresh neither the mind nor the body, but, on the contrary, stupefy and burden both; as happens to those who, having played chess for five or six hours, come away with their heads aching, or who, after playing tennis for a long time, are overcome with fatigue. But if the stake, that is, what is wagered, is too considerable, the players’ affections become disordered; moreover, there is a kind of injustice in setting great stakes upon things as unimportant and useless as the skills and abilities displayed in games. But above all, take care, Philothea, not to become too attached to any of these things; for however honest a recreation may be, it is a fault to set one’s heart and affection upon it. I do not say that one ought not to take pleasure in the game while playing; for otherwise one would not be recreating oneself; but I say that one must not bring to it too much desire, eagerness, or ardour.