"Time," it is said, "is money." So it is, without doubt. But to the young man or young woman who is striving to make the most of himself or herself time is more than money, it is character and usefulness. They become great and good just as they learn how to make the best use of their time. On the right employment of it depends what we are to be now, and what we are to be hereafter, "We all complain," says the great Roman philosopher Seneca, "of the shortness of time, and yet we have more than we know what to do with. Our lives are spent either in doing nothing at all, or in doing nothing to the purpose, or in doing nothing that we ought to do. We are always complaining that our days are few, and acting as though there would be no end of them."
In regard to the right use of time—how to make the most of it and to get the most out of it—there are certain things that we should bear in mind and keep in constant remembrance. We may arrange them for convenience under four heads:Economy, System, Punctuality and Promptitude.
I. Economy.—We all know what economy is. In regard to money, in connection with which the word is chiefly used, it is keeping strict watch over our expenditure, and not spending a penny without good reason. According to the oft-quoted proverb, "Take care of the pence and the pounds will take care of themselves." Economy, in regard to time, is to watch over the minutes, hours and days, and the years will take care of themselves. It is, to let every moment of time be well employed; to let every hour of the day as it passes be turned to use; to let none be spent in idleness or folly. It is a good advice that of the poet—
Think nought a trifle though it small appears,Sands make the mountain, moments make the years,And trifles life.
In the mint, where money is coined, when the visitor reaches the room where the gold coins are cast, it is said that the floor is a network of wooden bars to catch all the particles of the falling metal. When the day's work is done, the floor is removed and the golden dust is swept up to be melted again. In the same way we should economize time: gather up its golden dust, let none of its moments be lost. Be careful of its spare minutes, and a wealth of culture will be the result. It is said of a European cathedral that when the architect came to insert the stained-glass windows he was one window short. An apprentice in the factory where the windows were made came forward and said that he thought he could make a window from the bits of glass cast aside. He went to work, collected the fragments, put them together, and produced a window said to be the finest of all. In the same way men have made much out of the bits of time that have been, so to speak, broken from the edges of a busy life.
Many illustrations might be given from history of what men have been able to do by a wise economy of time. Sir Humphry Davy established a laboratory in the attic of his house, and when his ordinary day's work was done began a course of scientific studies that continued throughout his memorable life. Cobbett learned grammar when a soldier, sitting on the edge of his bed. Lincoln, the famous president of America, acquired arithmetic during the winter evenings, mastered grammar by catching up his book at odd moments when he was keeping a shop, and studied law when following the business of a surveyor. Douglas Jerrold, during his apprenticeship, arose with the dawn of day to study his Latin grammar, and read Shakespeare and other works before his daily labor began at the printing office. At night, when his day's work was done, he added over two hours more to his studies. At seventeen years of age he had so mastered Shakespeare that when anyone quoted a line from the poet he could give from memory that which came next. While walking to and from his office Henry Kirke White acquired a knowledge of Greek. A German physician, while visiting his patients, contrived to commit to memory theIliadof Homer. Hugh Miller, while working as a stonemason, studied geology in his off hours. Elihu Burritt, "the learned blacksmith," gained a mastery of eighteen languages and twenty-two dialects by using the odds and ends of time at his disposal. Franklin's hours of study were stolen from the time his companions devoted to their meals and to sleep.[1] Many similar instances might be added to show what may be done by economising time and strictly looking after those spare minutes which many throw away. The great rule is, never to be unemployed, and to find relief in turning from one occupation to another, due allowance of course being made for recreation and for rest. The wise man economises time as he economises money.
II. System.—It is wonderful how much work can be got through in a day if we go by rule—if we map out our time, divide it off and take up one thing regularly after another. To drift through our work, or to rush through it inhelter skelterfashion, ends in comparatively little being done. "One thing at a time" will always perform a better day's work than doing two or three things at a time. By following this rule one person will do more in a day than another does in a week. "Marshal thy notions," said old Thomas Fuller, "into a handsome method. One will carry twice as much weight trussed and packed as when it lies untoward, flapping and hanging about his shoulders." Fixed rules are the greatest possible help to the worker. They give steadiness to his labor, and they enable him to go through it with comparative ease. Many a man would have been saved from ruin if he had appreciated the value of method in his affairs. In the peasant's cottage or the artisan's workshop, in the chemist's laboratory or the shipbuilder's yard, the two primary rules must be, "For every one his duty," and, "For everything its place."
It is a wise thing to begin the day by taking a survey in thought of the work we have to get through, and thus to divide it, giving to each hour its own share. The shortest way to do many things is to do one thing at a time. Albert Barnes was a distinguished American theologian who wrote a valuable commentary on the Bible amid the work of a large parish. He accomplished this by systematic arrangement of his time. He divided his day into parts. He devoted each part to some duty. He rigidly adhered to this arrangement, and in this way was able to overtake an amount of work that was truly wonderful. In the life of Anthony Trollope, the great novelist, we are told that he kept resolutely close to a rule he laid down for himself. He wrote so many pages a day of so many lines each. He overtook an immense amount of work in the year. He published many books, and he made a great deal of money. The great English lawyer Sir Edward Coke divided his time according to the well-known couplet—
Six hours in sleep, in law's grave study six,Four spend in prayer, the rest on nature fix.
Sir William Jones, the famous Oriental scholar, altered this rule to suit himself.
Seven hours to law, to soothing slumber seven,Ten to the world allot, and all to Heaven.
Benjamin Franklin's system of working is given in his "Life." Each day was carefully portioned off. His daily programme was the following:
Morning. ) Rise, wash, and address the5 ) Almighty Father; contrive[Question, What good 6 ) the day's business and takeshall I do this day?] 7 ) the resolution of the day;) prosecute the present study,) breakfast.
8 )to ) Work11 )
12 ) Read or look over accounts andNoon. to ) dine.1 )
2 )Afternoon, to ) Work5 )
6 ) Put things in their place;Evening to ) supper; music or diversion or[Question, What good 9 ) conversation; examination ofhave I done to-day?] ) the day.
10 )Night to ) Sleep.4 )
It is evident that a scheme of life like this could not suit everyone. It is given as an illustration of the value of adhering to method in our work. "Order," the poet Pope says, "is Heaven's first law," and time well ordered means generally work well and thoroughly done.
III. Punctuality.—This means keeping strictly as to time by any engagement we make either with ourselves or with others. If we resolve to do anything at a certain time, we should do it neither before nor after that time. It is better to be before than after. But it is best to be at the very minute. If we enter into an engagement with others for a certain time, we should be precise in keeping it. In a letter from a celebrated merchant, Buxton, to his son, he says, "Be punctual; I do not mean merely being in time for lectures, but mean that spirit out of which punctuality grows, that love of accuracy and precision which mark the efficient man. The habit of being punctual extends to everything—meeting friends, paying debts, going to church, reaching and leaving place of business, keeping promises, retiring at night and rising in the morning." We may lay down a system or method of work for ourselves, but it will be of little service unless we keep carefully to it, beginning and leaving off at the appointed moment. If the work of one hour is postponed to another, it will encroach on the time allotted to some other duty, if it do not remain altogether undone, and thus the whole business of the day is thrown into disorder. If a man loses half an hour by rising late in the morning, he is apt to spend the rest of the day seeking after it. Sir Walter Scott was not only methodical in his work, he was exceedingly punctual, always beginning his allotted task at the appointed moment. "When a regiment," he wrote, "is under march, the rear is often thrown into confusion because the front does not move steadily and without interruption. It is the same thing in business. If that which is first in hand be not instantly despatched, other things accumulate betimes, till affairs begin to press all at once, and no brain can stand the confusion." We should steadily cultivate the habit of punctuality. We can cultivate it until it becomes with us a second nature, and we do everything, as the saying is, "by clockwork." In rising in the morning and going to bed, in taking up different kinds of work, in keeping appointments with others, we should strive to be "to the minute." The unpunctual man is a nuisance to society. He wastes his own time, and he wastes the time of others; as Principal Tulloch well says, "Men who have real work of their own would rather do anything than do business with him." [2]
IV. Promptitude.—By this we mean acting at the present moment—all that is opposed to procrastination, putting off to another time, to a "convenient season" which probably never comes—all that is opposed also to what is called "loitering" or "dawdling." There is an old Latin proverb, "Bis dat qui cito dat,"—he gives twice who gives quickly. The same thing may be said of work, "He works twice who works quickly." In work, of course, the first requirement is that it should be well done; but this does not hinder quickness and despatch. There are those who, when they have anything to do, seem to go round it and round it, instead of attacking it at once and getting it out of the way; and when they do begin it they do so in a listless and half-hearted fashion. There are those who look at their work, according to the simile of Sidney Smith, like men who stand shivering on the bank instead of at once taking the plunge. "In order," he says, "to do anything that is worth doing in this world, we must not stand shivering on the bank thinking of the cold and the danger, but jump in and scramble through as well as we can. It will not do to be perpetually calculating and adjusting nice chances; it did all very well before the Flood, when a man could consult his friends upon an intended publication for a hundred and fifty years, and then live to see its success for six or seven centuries afterwards, but at present a man doubts, and waits, and hesitates, and consults his brother, and his uncle, and his first cousin, and his particular friends, till one day he finds that he is sixty-five years of age, that he has lost so much time in consulting first cousins and particular friends that he has no time to follow their advice." This is good sense, though humorously put. Promptitude is a quality that should be assiduously cultivated. Like punctuality, it becomes a most valuable habit. "Procrastination," it is said, "is the thief of time," and "hell is paved with good intentions." These proverbs are full of wisdom. When we hear people saying, "They are going to be this thing or that thing; theyintendto look to this or to that; they will by and by do this or that," we may be sure there is a weakness in their character. Such people never come to much. The best way is not tospeakabout doing a thing, butto do it, and to do itat once.
To these thoughts on the use of time we may fitly add the great words of Scripture, "So teach us to number our days that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom," Ps. xc. 12. "Redeeming the time, because the days are evil," Ephes. v. 16. We transform time into eternity by using it aright.
[1] These illustrations are given by Mr. Davenport Adams.
[2]Beginning Life.
We all know what is meant by courage, though it is not easy to define it. It is the determination to hold our own, to face danger without flinching, to go straight on our way against opposing forces, neither turning to the right hand nor the left.
It is a quality admirable in the eyes of all men, savage and civilized, Christian and non-Christian—as admirable as cowardice, the opposite quality, is detestable. The brave man is the hero of the savage. Bravery, or, as the Scriptures term it,virtue, is a great requisite in a Christian. If it is not the first, it is the second characteristic of a Christian life. "Add," says St. Paul, "to your faith virtue," that is to say, courage.
It is the very glory of youth to be courageous.—The "sneak" and the "coward" are the abhorrence of youth. It is youth which climbs "the imminent deadly breach" and faces the deadly hail of battle, which defies the tyranny of custom and the hatred of the world. One may have compassion for age, which is naturally timid and sees fears in the way, but youth which is cowardly is contemptible.
There are two kinds of courage—the one of a lower, the other of a higher type. (a) The first, the lower kind of courage, is that which has its root and foundation in our physical nature. It is constitutional; there is little or no merit in it. Some men are born to know no fear—men of strong nerve, of iron constitution, and powerful physique. Such men laugh at danger and scorn opposition. Theirs is the courage of the lion or the bull-dog, and there is no virtue about it. They cannot help being what they are. (b) But there is another kind of courage which is not so much physical asmoral. It has its foundation not in man's bodily constitution so much as in his higher nature. It draws its power from the invisible. "Are you not afraid," was a question put by a young and boastful officer to his companion whose face was blanched and pale, as they stood together amid the thickly falling shot of a battle-field. "Iamafraid," he replied, "and if you were half as afraid as I am, you would run." In his case there was little physical courage, but there was the higher courage drawn from a sense of duty which made him stand firm as a rock. When our Lord knelt in His mysterious anguish in Gethsemane, His whole physical nature seemed broken down, "His sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground." "Suffer," He said, "this cup to pass from me"; and His strength came from the invisible. "Not my will," He cried, "but thine be done." With that sublime trust in God strengthening Him, He shrank not back for a moment; He took the cup and drained it to the dregs. This is the highest form of courage that there is. The weakest women have displayed it in face of appalling dangers. It is the courage of the martyr, the patriot, the reformer. There is a glory and beauty in it before which all men bow.
There are three chief forms which this moral courage takes in ordinary life.
First, there is the courage of our opinions.—Many people, perhaps the majority, do not have opinions. They have simply notions, impressions, sentiments, prejudices, which they have imbibed from others. They may be said to be like looking-glasses, which have a shadow of whatever stands before them. So long as they are in company with a positive person who believes something, they have an opinion. When he goes the shadow on the looking-glass goes also. They are like the sand on the seashore—the last person who comes the way makes a track and the next wave washes it away and leaves the sand ready for another impression. How many are there who, when any important question comes up, have no opinion about it, until they read their paper or hear what other people are saying. There is no sort of courage more needed than the courage to form an opinion and keep by it when we have formed it. There is no more contemptible form of cowardice than to do a thing merely because others do it. The grand words of President Garfield of the United States are worthy of remembrance: "I do not think what others may say or think about me, but there is one man's opinion about me which I very much value, that is the opinion of James Garfield; others I need not think about. I can get away from them, but I have to be with him all the time. He is with me when I rise up and when I lie down, when I go out and when I come in. It makes a great difference whether he thinks well of me or not." To this noble utterance we may add the words of the poet Russell Lowell:
They are slaves who will not chooseHatred, scoffing, and abuse,Rather than in silence shrinkFrom the truth they needs must think.They are slaves who dare not beIn the right with two or three.
Second, there is the courage of resistance.—This is the chief form courage should take in the young. They are surrounded on every side by strong temptations—temptations addressed to their lower nature, to vanity, to indolence, to scepticism, to impurity, to drunkenness. There is many a young man beset by temptation who has in reality to fight far harder if he will maintain his integrity than any soldier belonging to an army making its way through an enemy's country. He does not know when an ambush may be sprung upon him, or from what side the attack may come. In an old tower on the Continent they show you, graven again and again on the stones of one of the dungeons, the wordResist. It is said that a Protestant woman was kept in that hideous place for forty years, and during all that time her employment was in graving with a piece of iron, for anyone who might come after her, that word. It is a word that needs to be engraven on every young man's and young woman's heart. It represents the highest form of courage which to them is possible—the power to say "No" to every form of temptation.
Third, there is the courage of endurance.—This is really the noblest form of courage. There is no excitement in it; nothing to be won by it. It is simply to bear without flinching. In the buried city of Herculaneum, near Vesuvius, now uncovered, after the guide has shown the visitor the wonders of the place he takes him to the gate and points out the stone box where were found, buried in ashes, the rusted remains of the helmet and cuirass of the Roman sentinel. When the black cloud rose from the mountain, and the hot ashes fell around him, and the people rushed out at the gate, he stood there immovable, because it was his duty, and died in his place, suffocated by the sulphury air. It was a grand instance of courage, but it is seen again and again equalled in common life. In men and women stricken down by fell disease; in those on whom adverse circumstances close like the walls of an iron chamber; in people for whom there was no possible escape, who could only bear, but who stood up firm and erect in their weakness, whose cross, instead of crushing them to the earth, seemed only to lift them up. We are told that Robert Hall, the great preacher, suffered much from disease. He was forced often to throw himself down and writhe on the ground in paroxysms of pain. From these he would rise with a smile, saying, "I suffered much, but I did not cry out, did I? did I cry out?"
These are the chief forms of moral courage in ordinary life. We have now to point out what are the sources of such courage.
The first source of courage is conviction—the feeling that we are in the right, the "testimony of a good conscience." Nothing can make a man brave without that. "Thrice is he armed," we are told, "who hath his quarrel just," and he is more than trebly armed who knows in his heart that it is just. If we go over the roll of the strongest and bravest men the world has seen we will find that at the root of their courage there lay this fact of conviction. Theybelieved, therefore they spake, therefore they fought, therefore they bled and died. The man of strong conviction is the strong man all the world over. If a man wants that, he will be but a feeble character, a poor weakling to the end of the chapter. Shakespeare says that "conscience makes cowards of us all"; but it does something else when it makes us fear evil—it lifts us above all other fear. So it raised Peter, who had shortly before denied his Master, to such courage that he could say before his judges, "Whether it be right in the sight of God to hearken unto you more than unto God, judge ye. For we cannot but speak the things which we have seen and heard." It has enabled men and women to endure a martyr's death when one word, which they would not speak, might have saved them.
The second source of courage is faith.—We use the word in the Christian sense of trust in God. When a man feels that God is with him he can stand up against all the powers of earth and hell. "If God be for us, who can be against us?" The heroes of the past, who subdued kingdoms and wrought righteousness, have all been men of faith. Recall Hebrews xi., the Covenanters, the Ironsides of Cromwell, the Huguenots, Luther, Knox. Their faith may not have been so enlightened as it might have been had their knowledge been wider. Their religious creeds may have contained propositions that are no longer accepted, but they were strong because of their undoubted faith in God. When His presence is an abiding presence with us and in us, our
Strength is as the strength of ten,Because our hearts are pure.
He who fears God will know no other fear.
The third source of courage is sympathy.—A man who has God with him will be brave if he stand alone, but he will be greatly helped if he is in company with others like himself and knows that he has the sympathy of good men. You remember St. Paul on his journey to Rome reaching a little village about thirty miles from the great city. The look-out for him was very depressing. He had appealed to Caesar, but what likelihood was there of his obtaining justice in Caesar's capital. He might be thrown to the lions, or made to fight for his life in the Coliseum, a spectacle to the Roman multitude. Then it was that a few Roman Christians who had heard of his approach came out to meet him, and, it is said, "he thanked God and took courage." Such was the power of sympathy. If we would be encouraged we will seek it. If we would encourage others we will give it.
We will only say in closing this chapter that its subject is most truly illustrated by the life of our Lord himself. The mediaeval conception of Christ was that He exhibited only the passive virtues of meekness, patience, and submission to wrong. From the gospels we form a different idea. He vanquished the devil in the wilderness; He faced human opposition boldly and without fear; He denounced the hypocrisy of the Pharisees, and encountered their rage and violence. He went calmly along His appointed path, neither turning to the right hand nor to the left. Scribes, Pharisees, Sadducees, could not deter Him from doing His Father's work. Amid a tumultuous tempest of ill-will He moved straight forward, foreseeing His death, "setting His face toward Jerusalem," knowing all that awaited Him there. He went through Gethsemane to Calvary with the step of a conqueror. Never was He more truly a king than on the cross, and the grandest crown ever worn was "the crown of thorns." In Him we have the highest example of courage, as of all other virtues.
Health means soundness of body and of mind; the keeping of our physical system in such a condition that it is able to do its work easily, without disturbance, and without pain; the exercise of the mind so as not to harm the body. There are certain preliminary considerations that we should bear in mind in connection with this subject.
I. The close connection between body and mind.—They are both related to each other in some mysterious way. So close is the connection that the one cannot be affected without the other. The well-being of the one depends on the well-being of the other. The power which the mind has over the body and the body over the mind has been well and tersely described by a writer of our time. "Man," he says, "is one, however compound. Fire his conscience, and he blushes; check his circulation, and he thinks tardily or not at all; impair his secretions, and the moral sense is dulled, discolored, or depraved, his aspirations flag, his hope and love both reel; impair them still more, and he becomes a brute. A cup of wine degrades his moral nature below that of the swine. Again, a violent emotion of pity or horror makes him vomit; a lancet will restore him from delirium to clear thought; excessive thought will waste his energy; excess of muscular exercise will deaden thought; an emotion will double the strength of his muscles; and at last, a prick of a needle or a grain of mineral will in an instant lay to rest forever his body and its unity." [1] When we consider the close connection between mind and body, and how the state of the one affects the other, we see how important it is that both should work together in that harmonious action which is health, and how carefully we should guard against anything by which that harmonious action may be interrupted.
II. Bodily health is almost essential to success in life.—It is notabsolutelyessential, but it isalmostessential. (a) Physical health is not everything. "Give a man," it has been said, "a good deep chest and a stomach of which he never knew the existence, and he must succeed in any practical career." This has been said by a great authority, Professor Huxley, but it is only partially true, for many worthless people fulfil these conditions. They are, as Carlyle calls them, only "animated patent digesters." (b) Great things also have been done in the world by men whose health has been feeble. Calvin was a man of sickly body; Pascal was an invalid at eighteen; Pope was weak and deformed; William of Orange, a martyr to asthma; Hall, the famous preacher, suffered great paroxysms of pain; Milton was blind; Nelson, little and lame; St. Paul in bodily presence was weak. On the other hand, some of these men might have done more if their health had been better. Health is a splendid possession in the battle of life. The men of great physical vitality, as a rule, achieve most; other things being equal, their success in life is sure. Everything shows that the greatness of great men is almost as much a bodily affair as a mental one. It has been computed that the average length of life of the most eminent philosophers, naturalists, artists, jurists, physicians, musical composers, scholars and authors, including poets, is sixty-five years. This shows that the most successful men on the whole have had good bodies and been blessed with great vitality.
III. The care of the body is a religious duty.—(a) It is so because our spiritual feelings are largely dependent upon the state of our health. "Certain conditions of body undeniably occasion, irritate and inflame those appetites and inclinations which it is one great end of Christianity to repress and regulate." The spirit has sometimes to maintain a terrible struggle against the flesh. Intemperance is largely the result of bad feeding. "It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle," than for a dyspeptic person to be gentle, meek, long-suffering. Dark views of God often come from the state of the body. It would largely lift up the moral and spiritual condition of men if their surroundings were such as tended to keep them in health. To improve men's dwellings, to give them healthy homes, pure air to breathe, and pure water to drink, would tend to help them morally and spiritually, (b) God requires of us a certain amount of service by and through our bodies. We cannot perform the work if we destroy the machines by which the work is to be done. (c) Scripture especially calls us to make the body the object of our reverent care. "Your bodies are members of Christ." The body "is for the Lord, and the Lord for the body." "Your body is the temple of the Holy Ghost, which is in you, which ye have of God." "If any man defile the temple of God, him will God destroy." Yield "your members as instruments of righteousness unto God." Sin is not to "reign in your mortal body." "Glorify God in your body." We are to "present our bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is our reasonable service." (d) The body is a part of that humanity which Christ by Hisincarnationtook, redeemed, sanctified and glorified. (e) Our Lord's miracles were nearly all performed on the human body, for its relief, cure, and restoration to life.
IV. To a certain extent our health is in our own hands.—Not altogether, for some are constitutionally defective, and subject to infirmities with which they are born, and which they have perhaps inherited. But a vast amount of disease is preventable, and comes from causes over which we have direct control. "It is reckoned that a hundred thousand persons die annually in England of preventable diseases"—from disobedience to the laws of health, which are God's laws, and the transgression of which, wilfully, is sin. Beyond all doubt a vast amount of sickness comes from bad living, from intemperance in eating and drinking, from breathing bad air, from inhabiting ill-constructed houses. It is possible to live in accordance with the laws of health so that life may be comparatively free from disease and from pain. If Providence denies health, the want of it must be patiently endured. If we have inherited weakness, we must make the most of the strength we have. But if we lack health through our own fault we are guilty of shameful sin.
To discuss fully the subject and laws of health would require a whole treatise, and would be beyond the scope of this text-book. There are, however, some outstanding conditions for the preservation of health which are plain to everyone, and which may be summed up in the three words Temperance, Exercise, and Rest. These have been well termed the three great physicians, whose prescriptions are painless and cost nothing.
1.Temperance.—Man needs a certain amount of food to sustain him, but if that amount be increased beyond the proper quantity it is dangerous to health. It overtasks the power of digestion and is injurious. We need therefore to be constantly on our guard as to what we eat and drink lest we run into excess. Every one must study his own constitution, find out its need, and suit the supply of food to its wants. According to the old proverb, "We should eat to live, not live to eat." It is a great matter for health when we are able to strike the proper medium and neither eat nor drink too much nor too little. To lay down rules on this subject for the individual is impossible. "One man's food is another man's poison." A man must determine from his own experience what he ought to take, and how much, as well as what he ought to avoid. The word intemperance is generally employed as applying to the abuse of strong drinks. On this subject much has been written, some advocating total abstinence and others judicious and moderate use. Into this region of controversy we cannot enter. The evils of drinking habits, as they are called, are plain to all. They are a terrible curse to society, and a terrible danger to the individual. They have ruined many a promising career. For many, perhaps we may say for most, entire abstinence is their only safety. He who finds that he can do his work well by drinking only water will be wise if he drinks nothing else. That will never harm him, though other liquids may. We must judge for ourselves, but "Temperance in all things" is a rule binding on every Christian man. We cannot have health unless we strictly and constantly practise temperance.
2.Exercise.—This is as necessary to health as food. "Only by exercise—physical exercise—can we maintain our muscles, organs and nervous system in proper vigor; only by exercise can we equalise the circulation and distribute the blood evenly over every part of the body; only by exercise can we take a cheerful and wholesome view of life, for exercise assists the digestion, and a good digestion is a sovereign antidote to low spirits; only by exercise can the brain be strengthened to perform the labor demanded of it." [2] No sensible man will try to do without it. If any man does so he will pay the penalty. As to the amount of exercise and the kind of exercise every man must judge for himself. Some, from their occupation, need less than others; the outdoor laborer, for instance, than the clerk who is most of the day at the desk. One man may take exercise best by walking, another by riding, another by following outdoor sports. Athletics, such as football, and cricket, are a favorite form of exercise with the young, and if not followed to excess are most advantageous. The walk in the open air is life to many. But boy or man can never be what they ought to be unless they take exercise regularly and judiciously, take it not to exhaust but to refresh and stimulate. It strengthens the nerve and clears the brain and fits for work.
3.Rest.—Man needs a certain amount of repose to sustain his frame in full vigor. Some need more, some need less. We must find out for ourselves what we need and take it. Lack of sleep is especially a great waste of vitality. Here also we must exercise our judgment as to the amount of sleep we require. One needs a great deal; another can do with very little. Early rising, which has been much recommended, is only good for those who go early to bed. If one is compelled to sit up late he should sleep late in the morning. It is no virtue on the part of anyone to get up early unless he has slept enough.Thathe must do if he is to have health. A man who would be a good worker must see to it that he is a good sleeper; and whoever, from any cause, is regularly diminishing his sleep is destroying his life. Shakespeare has well described the blessing of sleep when he says:
Sleep that knits up the ravelled sleeve of care,The death of each day's life, sore labor's bath,Balm of hurt minds, great Nature's second course,Chief nourisher in life's feast.
These are buthintsin connection with a great subject. A few brief rules may be given of a general character:
1. Take exercise every day in the open air if possible, and make it a recreation and not merely a duty.
2. Eat wholesome food, drink pure water.
3. Let your house and room be well ventilated.
4. Take time enough for sleep. Do not worry.
5. Watch yourself, but not too closely, to find out what exercise, air, diet, etc., agrees with you. No man can be a rule for another.
6. If you consult a physician, it is better to do it before you are unwell than later.[3]
We close this chapter with the powerful words of Thomas Carlyle, addressed to the students of the University of Edinburgh: "Finally, I have one advice to give you which is practically of very great importance. You are to consider throughout much more than is done at present, and what would have been a very great thing for me if I had been able to consider, that health is a thing to be attended to continually; that you are to regard it as the very highest of all temporal things. There is no kind of achievement you could make in the world that is equal to perfect health. What to it are nuggets or millions?"
[1] Frederic Harrison,Popular Science Monthly Supplement.
[2]Plain Living and High Thinking.
[3] These rules are given by J. Freeman Clarke in his work on Self-Culture.
Another word for earnestness is enthusiasm. The Scriptural equivalent is zeal. It means putting our whole heart into whatever we are doing. It is a sweeping, resistless energy, which carries everything before it, like a river in full flood. Its nature is well expressed in the saying of the old huntsman, "Throw over your heart, and your horse will soon follow."
Earnestness is not to be confounded with noise, vehemence, or outward demonstration.—It is often exceedingly quiet and undemonstrative. Notice when the machinery of an engine is standing still, how the steam makes a great noise as it issues from the safety-valve, but when the vapor is turned into the cylinder and is used in driving the engine all that thundering sound disappears. It does not follow that there is no steam. It is going in another direction, and doing its appropriate work. It is a great mistake to imagine that enthusiasm and what is calledfussare identical. The most enthusiastic men are often the quietest. No one can doubt the enthusiasm of a man like Livingstone. He had enthusiasm for science, for philanthropy and for religion. It was unflagging; yet not a boast, not a murmur escaped his lips. He did the thing he meant to do, and made no noise in doing it.
Earnestness is often regarded with suspicion and condemned.—It is the fashion with many to sneer at it. It is often alone, and then it is not respectable. It is often in excess, and is therefore ineffective. It is often disturbing to the sleepiness of others, and is therefore hated by them. Our Lord was an enthusiast in the eyes of the Pharisees. St. Paul was an enthusiast to Festus. The early Christians were enthusiasts to the pagan world because they turned it upside down. The martyrs and confessors of all times have been regarded as enthusiasts by those of their own time who were not in sympathy with them. An enthusiast is called by many a fanatic, and a fanatic in the eyes of some is a most dangerous member of society.
All the great leaders of the world have been men in earnest.—Emerson says truly that "every great and commanding movement in the annals of the world is the triumph of enthusiasm." Our civil and religious liberties we owe to enthusiasts for freedom. The enthusiasm of Columbus gave us America; the enthusiasm of Knox reformed Scotland; the enthusiasm of Wesley regenerated English religious life; the enthusiasm of men like Garibaldi and Cavour and Mazzini has made in our own time a new Italy. These men were all denounced in their day, cold water was thrown on all their projects, but their burning earnestness carried them on to triumph. The scorned enthusiast of one generation is the hero of the next.
Earnestness is a great element in securing success in life.—A well-known writer and preacher, Dr. Arnot, tells that he once heard the following conversation at a railway station between a farmer and the engineer of a train: "What are you waiting for so long? Have you no water?" "Oh, yes, we have plenty of water, but it is not boiling." So there may be abundance of intelligence and splendid machinery, and all the appliances that help to success, but what is wanted is intense boiling earnestness. We have a good illustration of the power of earnestness in speaking. One man may say the right thing, and say it in a pleasing and cultured manner; every phrase may be well placed, every sentence polished, every argument in its proper place. Another man may have no elegance of diction, his words may be unpolished, his sentences even ungrammatical, and yet he may move a great multitude, as the leaves of the trees are moved by the wind, through the intense earnestness and enthusiasm by which he is possessed. We see the same thing in Christian effort. The organization of a church may be perfect, its resources may be large, and it may have in its service an army of able and well-disciplined men; but without enthusiasm and burning zeal its efforts are powerless and come to nothing. When, as at Pentecost, the Holy Spirit descends upon a church in tongues of fire, then there is quickening, and souls are gathered in. No man has ever had a supreme influence over others without more or less enthusiasm in his nature.
There are three directions we may give in regard to earnestness or enthusiasm.
1.Respect it in others.—Do not join with those who regard it as something that is not respectable. It is always preferable to what is cold and formal. Life is better than death, and when there is life there is energy and earnestness. Even when enthusiasm takes forms that we cannot altogether approve of, it is worthy of respect. "Next to being Servetus who was burnt," said one, "I would have been Calvin who burnt him." That was a strong way of saying that zeal is a beautiful thing in itself, though "zeal that is not according to knowledge" is not good. We may not approve of many of the opinions and methods of Francis Xavier, the great missionary and saint of the Roman Church, but we cannot fail to admire his burning zeal in the cause of Christ, and look with something like awe on his high-souled devotion to the work of an evangelist. He was swept on by an enthusiasm that never failed, and which carried him over obstacles that would have daunted any ordinary man. The Puritans were denounced by many good people of their time, and the great preacher, Dr. South, delivered a sermon against them, entitled "Enthusiasts not led by the Spirit of God." But we all know how great the men were, and how great a work they did through the very enthusiasm that he condemned. "It is better," according to the proverb, "that the pot should boil over than not boil at all." The word enthusiasm literally means filled, or inspired, by God, and the meaning of the word may teach us how noble a thing enthusiasm is in itself, and how worthy it is of admiration and respect.
2.We should cultivate it in ourselves.—It is a virtue, like all others, that can be cultivated. (a) By resolutely setting our face against doing anything in a languid and half-hearted way. If a thing is worth doing, it should be done "with all our might." (b) By studying the lives of great men. When we do so we catch something of the earnestness that inspired them. This is perhaps the best result of reading biography. We feel how noble was the enthusiasm of the heroes of the past, and how, by means of it, they were able to do great things, and to march on to victory. (c) By associating with those who are in earnest. There is nothing so contagious as enthusiasm, and when we come in contact with those who live under the impulse of grand ideas, something of their force and power is conveyed to ourselves. The great soul strengthens the weak soul. While the solitary coal on the hearth will go black out, when it is heaped up with others it springs into a blaze.
O ever earnest sun!Unwearied in thy work,Unhalting in thy course,Unlingering in thy path,Teach me thy earnest ways,That mine may be a life of steadfast work and praise.
O ever earnest stars!Unchanging in your light,Unfaltering in your race,Unswerving in your round,Teach me your earnest ways,That mine may be a life of steadfast work and praise.
O ever earnest flowers!That with untiring growthShoot up and spread abroadYour fragrance and your joy,Teach me your earnest ways,That mine may be a life of steadfast work and praise.
O ever earnest sea!Constant in flow and ebb,Heaving to moon and sun,Unchanging in thy change,Teach me thy earnest ways,That mine may be a life of steadfast work and praise.HORATIUS BONAR.
3.We should carry earnestness into our religious life.—This above all. There are many who tolerate earnestness in other things, but who look upon it as dangerous in connection with religion. It is regarded as of very questionable value, and spoken of with doubt and suspicion. Let a man become earnest in prayer, earnest in work, or rise in any way above the dead level in which so many are content to rest, and he will be often spoken of in tones of pity, sneered at as a fanatic, or denounced as an impostor. This suspicion with which earnestness in the Church of Christ is often regarded may be accounted for. (a) There has been a vast deal of zeal in the Church about religion which has not been zeal for religion: about matters of ritual, Church government, and the like. (b) Zeal has been often expended in contentions about small points of doctrine; often about those very points which are shrouded in mystery. (c) Zeal has been often manifested in the interest of sect and party rather than of Christ. (d) Zeal has often taken persecution for her ally, and wielded among men the weapons of earthly warfare. For these reasons its appearance in the Church is often regarded as we might regard the erection in a town of a gunpowder magazine which, at any moment, might produce disorder, ruin, and death.
Yet Scripture regards earnestness in religion as essential.—Indifference and lukewarmness it regards as hateful (Rev. iii. 15, 16). It calls us to a solemn choice and to a lifelong service. Its heroes are those who lived in the spirit of Brainerd's prayer, "Oh, that I were a flaming fire in the service of my God." There is an allegory of Luther which may be quoted here. "The devil," he says, "held a great anniversary, at which his emissaries were convened to report the results of their several missions. 'I let loose the wild beasts of the desert,' said one, 'on a caravan of Christians, and their bones are now bleaching on the sands.' 'What of that?' said the devil; 'their souls were all saved.' 'I drove the east wind,' said another, 'against a ship freighted with Christians, and they were all drowned.' 'What of that?' said the devil; 'their souls were all saved.' 'For ten years I tried to get a single Christian asleep,' said a third, 'and I succeeded, and left him so.' Then the devil shouted, and the night stars of hell sang for joy."
There are three spheres of religious life in which earnestness should be specially shown.
1.In prayer.—This is specially inculcated in the two parables of our Lord, the "unjust judge" and "the friend at midnight," and in His own words, "Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you." One, it is said, came to Demosthenes, the great orator, and asked him to plead his cause. He heard him without attention while he told his story without earnestness. The man saw this, and cried out anxiously that it was all true. "Ah!" said Demosthenes, "I believe younow." The earnest prayer is the prevailing prayer.
2.In sacrifice.—This is in all life the test of earnestness. The student giving up time for the acquisition of knowledge; the merchant giving up his hours to the pursuit of business; the explorer braving the heat of the tropics and the cold of the arctic regions in his zeal for discovery. It is the same in religion. We must count all things, with St. Paul, "as loss, that we may win Christ, and be found in Him."
3.In impressing others.—It is "out of the heart that the mouth speaketh," and power to impress others is given only to those who do so with a full heart, and who are consumed with a burning zeal for the salvation of souls. These are they whom God has, in all ages, blessed in the conversion of men.
The word manners comes from the Latinmanus, the hand, and literally means the mode in which a thing is handled—behavior, deportment. Manners may be defined as the pleasing or unpleasing expression of our thoughts and intentions, whether in word or action. We may say or do a thing in an agreeable or a disagreeable way. According as we choose the one or the other, our manners may be said to be good or bad.
Good manners are the result of two things.—(a) Self-respect and (b) consideration for the feelings of others. The man who respects himself will be careful to say or do nothing that may seem to others degrading or unworthy. The man who has consideration for the feelings of others will be equally careful to do or say nothing that may give them pain, or be offensive to them.
Good manners beautify character.—It was a celebrated saying of an old bishop, William of Wykeham, "Manners maketh man." This is, however, only partially true. Manners do not make a man any more than good clothes make a man, but if heis madethey greatly improve him. Some have been truly excellent who have had an uncouth and unpolished address, but that was rather to their disadvantage than otherwise. "Rough diamonds" are always precious, but a diamond that is cut and polished, while it retains its value, is much more beautiful. Civility of speech, politeness of address, courtesy in our dealings with others, are qualities that adorn a man, whilst rudeness, incivility, roughness in behavior, detract greatly from his value, and injure his usefulness. Tennyson's words are true:
Manners are not idle, but the fruitOf noble nature and of loyal mind.
Good manners tend greatly to success in life.—Coarseness and gruffness lock doors, gentleness and refinement open them, while the rude, boorish man is shunned by all. Take the case of a speaker addressing a public meeting. What he says is weighty and important. His arguments are powerful and well marshalled, but his speech is uncouth and disagreeable. He says things that are coarse and vulgar. His bad manner vastly takes away from the impression which he desires to make, and which, if his manner had been different, he would have made. Again, two young men serve in a place of business. The one is gentle in his demeanor, meets his customers with a pleasant smile, is always polite. The other is rough in his deportment, apparently does not care whether those he deals with are pleased or not. The one is a favorite with everybody; the other, who may be equally worthy as far as character is concerned, is disliked.
Good manners often disarm opposition.—People may have a prejudice against ourselves personally, or against the cause we represent. It is wonderful, however, how much may be done to soften them by habitual courtesy towards them, and by studiously avoiding anything calculated to offend them or rouse their anger. A wise man will always endeavor to be specially civil towards any one who differs from him. It is related that in the early days of the Abolition movement in the United States, two men went out preaching: one, a sage old Quaker, brave and calm; the other, a fervid young man. When the Quaker lectured, the audience were all attention, and his arguments met with very general concurrence. But when it came to the young man's turn, a tumult invariably ensued, and he was pelted off the platform. Surprised by their different receptions, the young man asked the Quaker the reason. "Friend," he said, "you and I are on the same mission; we preach the same things; how is it that whileyouare received so cordially, I get nothing but abuse?" "I will tell thee," replied the Quaker; "thee says, 'If you do so and so, you shall be punished,' and I say, 'My friends, if you willbutdo so and so, you shall not be punished.' It is not what we say, but how we say it." [1] InThe Memorials of a Quiet Lifeit is said of Augustus Hare that, on a road along which he frequently passed, there was a workman employed in its repair who met his gentle questions and observations with gruff answers and sour looks. But as day after day the persevering mildness of his words and manner still continued, the rugged features of the man gave way, and his tone assumed a softer character. Politeness is the oiled key that will open many a rusty lock.
Good manners may be summed up in the one word, Gentleman.—That term implies all that good-manners ought to be. The original derivation of the word is from the Latingentilis, belonging to a tribe orgens; and in its first signification it applies to those of noble descent or family; but it has come to mean something far wider, and something which every man, however humble, may be—a man of high courtesy and refinement, to whom dishonor is hateful. "What is it," says Thackeray, "to be a gentleman? It is to be honest, to be gentle, to be generous, to be brave, to be wise, and, possessing all these qualities, to exercise them in the most graceful outward manner." It was said of our Lord by one of the early English poets, that he was
The first true gentleman that ever breathed.
To be a gentleman in all circumstances is the highest idea we can form of good manners. It is what, in our intercourse with others, we should strive to be—to have "high thoughts," as Sir Philip Sidney expresses it, "seated in a heart of courtesy." In Bishop Patteson's life is given the estimate of him, as a true gentleman, by a New Zealand native: "Gentleman-gentleman thought nothing that ought to be done too mean for him. Pig-gentleman never worked." The savage knew by instinct that the good Bishop who came to live among them that he might teach them to be better, who treated them with invariable courtesy and consideration, was a true gentleman, though he had to clean his own hut, to cook his own food, and to mend his own kettles. And he knew also that the man who made others work for him without doing them any good in return, who swore at them and abused them, was only a pig-gentleman, however rich or high in station he might be.
A few advices on the subject of this chapter may be given.
1.Cultivate a pleasing manner.—Any one can be civil and polite if he sets himself to be so. Some suppose that it is unworthy of a robust character to be gentle in demeanor, that it indicates a certain amount of effeminacy, and that strength and gruffness go together. We hear men spoken of sometimes approvingly as "rough diamonds." But history tells us that the noblest and strongest have been the most tender and courteous. King Robert the Bruce was "brave as a lion, tender-hearted as a woman." "Sir Walter Raleigh was every inch a man, a brave soldier, a brilliant courtier, and yet a mirror of courtesy. Nobody would accuse Sir Philip Sidney of having been deficient in manliness, yet his fine manners were proverbial. It is the courtesy of Bayard, the knight,sans peur et sans reproche, which has immortalized him quite as much as his valor." [2] It is not beneath us to study good manners. To a great extent they come naturally from refinement of disposition and inborn delicacy of feeling. But they may also, to a great extent, be learned and acquired. "Watch," it has wisely been said, "those of excellent reputation in manners. Catch the temper of the great masters of literature—the nobility of Scott, the sincerity of Thackeray, the heartiness of Dickens, the tenderness of Macdonald, the delicacy of Tennyson, the grace of Longfellow, the repose of Shakespeare." It is well worth while for every young man beginning life to form a true idea of what good manners are, and to make it his constant effort to acquire them.
2.Avoid eccentricity.—Eccentricity is the deliberate endeavor to make ourselves different from those around us. (a) Some show it in their dress by wearing garments often of outrageous shape and hue. (b) Some show it in their speech by striving to say things that they think especially smart. (c) Some show it in their actions by striking forced attitudes, and putting themselves in grotesque positions. It all springs from love of notoriety and desire to be thought different from their neighbors. It is the mark, as a rule, of fops and fools, and an indication of weakness of character. It is fundamentally inconsistent with good manners. Johnson was calledursa major, or big bear, from the gruffness of his manner. This was probably natural to him, but many affect a similar manner from a desire to be eccentric. The "big bears" of society are odious. Johnson's own words are applicable to such: "A man has no more right to say an uncivil thing than to act one—no more right to say a rude thing to another than to knock him down." Those also who are ever trying to say things which they think smart, but which are often impudent, and meant to give annoyance, ought to receive no countenance. "Sir," said one such person in his Irish brogue to Dean Swift, "Isit(set) up for being a wit." "Then, sir," said the Dean, "I advise you to sit down." Similar people should be treated in the same way.
3.Try to conquer shyness.—This is constitutional with some, but even when this is the case it can be overcome by taking pains. The shy man is often awkward in manner; and, what is worse, he often gives the impression to others of being rude, when he has no intention to be so. There are those who, in their own family and among their own friends, are known to be warm-hearted, kind and gentle, but who, from this defect of which we speak, have a reputation far from enviable. Any young man who is afflicted with it should set himself resolutely to get the better of it.
4.We should be especially courteous to those below us in station.—To servants in our house, to those in our employ, to the poor, we should be marked in our civility. "It is the very essence of gentlemanhood that one is polite to the weak, the poor, the friendless, the humble, the miserable, the degraded." The conduct of our Lord to such is ever worthy of our imitation. Indeed, as it has been well remarked, the character of men and women is perhaps better known "by the treatment of those below them than by anything else; for to them they rarely play the hypocrite." The man who is a bully and abusive to those weaker or less fortunate than himself, is at heart a poor creature; though, in company of his equals, he may be affable and polished enough. For example, Kingsley mentions regarding Sir Sydney Smith that "the love he won was because, without any conscious intention, he treated rich and poor, his own servants, and the noblemen, his guests, alike courteously, cheerfully, considerately, affectionately, bearing a blessing and reaping a blessing wherever he was." When a celebrated man returned the salute of a negro, he was reminded that he had done what was very unfashionable. "Perhaps so," he replied, "but I would not be outdone in good manners by a negro."
"Good words," says holy George Herbert, "are worth much, and cost little." The same may be said of good manners.
[1]The Secret of Success.
[2]Plain Living and High Thinking.
Temper is the harmonious and well-balanced working of the different powers of the mind. Good temper is when harmony is maintained; bad temper when it is violated. "Temper," it was said by an English bishop, "is nine-tenths of Christianity." We may think this an exaggerated statement, but there is much to commend it. The fruit of the Spirit of God is peace, and peace is the condition of a heart which is at rest—in harmony with God and man. Peace may be taken as the Scriptural word for temper.
Good temper is a sign that the different powers of the soul are working in harmony.—For instance, the atmosphere is well tempered when it is neither too hot nor too cold, neither too dry nor too moist, having neither too much electricity nor too little. Then the weather is called fine. It is a pleasure to live. When the weather is bad, the balance of the elements is broken, and life is disagreeable and unpleasant. The body is well tempered when the nervous system and the blood and the nutritive system all work in due harmony. When these three great constituents of the body are well balanced against each other, the result is health. The body is not well tempered in a student who takes no exercise, and where everything goes to feed the brain; nor in a pugilist in training, where everything goes to feed the muscles. The result is disease. We all know the musical instrument called the harp. All the strings are tuned into perfect harmony. If there is a false note struck, that is a sign to the musician that there is something wrong, and that the instrument needs to be tuned. The discord is a symptom, that some cords are out of order. So, bad temper is a sign that some string in our moral constitution is out of harmony and needs to be tuned.
Good temper can be acquired.—It is the result of culture. There are two things often confounded with it—(a) good nature and (b) good humor. Good nature is something born with us—an easy, contented disposition, and a tendency to take things quietly and pleasantly. We inherit it. There is little merit in possessing it. Good humor is the result of pleasant surroundings and agreeable circumstances. A good-humored man is so when everything goes right; when things go wrong, his good humor departs and bad humor takes its place. But good temper results from training and self-control—keeping constant watch over our passions and feelings, and above all being in constant harmony with God; for he who is at peace with God is at peace with man, and will keep the "even tenor of his way."
There are various signs or forms of ill-temper that may be adverted to.
One form of ill-temper is irritability.—We perhaps know what it is to have a tooth where the nerve is exposed. Everything that touches it sends a thrill of pain through us. Some people get into a moral state corresponding to that. The least thing puts them out, vexes them, throws them into a disagreeable frame of mind. When one gets into that state, he should feel that there is something wrong with him—something is off the balance, some nerve is exposed. He had better look to it and go off to the dentist.
Another form of ill-temper is readiness to find fault.—This is a sure sign of a screw being loose somewhere. An ill-tempered person is always making grievances, imagining himself ill-used, discontented with his position, dissatisfied with his circumstances. He never blames himself for anything wrong; it is always someone else. He is like a workman who is always excusing himself by throwing the blame on his tools; like a bad driver who is always finding fault with his horses.
Some fretful tempers wince at every touch,You always do too little or too much;He shakes with cold; you stir the fire and striveTo make a blaze; that's roasting him alive.Serve him with venison, and he chooses fish;With sole; that's just the sort he would not wish.Alas! his efforts double his distress,He likes yours little, and his own still less.Thus, always teasing others, always teased,His only pleasure is—to be displeased.
If we find ourselves getting into this state of mind, it is high time to inquire what is wrong with us.
Another form of ill-temper is passion.—Some people are very subject to this development. They are "gunpowdery," and when a small spark touches them they fly out, and there is a blaze. It is a very unlovely feature of a man's character, and if people in a passion could only see themselves in a glass, their eyes flashing, their brow contracted and their features distorted, they would feel that they have cause to be ashamed of themselves. After having been in what is called "a towering rage," there often comes to a man the feeling expressed in the words, "I have made a great ass of myself." If we have done so, we should resolve never to make ourselves ridiculous again.
Perhaps the worst form of ill-temper is sulkiness.—This is passion not dying out, but continuing to smoulder like the embers of a fire where there is no flame. A sullen disposition is as bad a sign of something being wrong as there could well be. It is like what the doctors call "suppressed gout." The disease has got driven into the system, and has taken so firm a hold that it cannot easily be dislodged. Better a man whose temper bubbles over and is gone, than the man who cherishes it in his bosom and allows, not the sun of one day, but of many days, to go down on his wrath.
A word or two is perhaps necessary, in addition to what has been said, as to the means by which good temper is to be preserved and bad temper avoided.
I.We should cherish a deep and strong detestation of the evil effects of bad temper in all its forms.—(a) It has a bad effect physically. It produces consequences injurious to health. The man who indulges in it habitually cannot do so with impunity. Doctors constantly warn their patients to refrain from irritating disputes, and to avoid men and things likely to provoke their anger. (b) It has a bad effect socially. The bad-tempered man is seldom a favorite with society. Men eventually dislike him and shun him as a nuisance. His family, if he has one, come to regard him with dread rather than love. (c) It has a bad effect as regards success in life. "Everything," the proverb says, "comes to him who waits." The patient and forbearing man attains his object much sooner than the man of passion and abuse. Such a person is continually thwarted in his plans. People refuse to be bullied into acquiescence; and threats, which have well been called "the arguments of a coward," raise rather than disarm opposition. (d) It has a bad effect spiritually. (1) The man of evil temper wants the calm disposition of soul necessary to communion with God. The glass through which he looks into the spiritual world is clouded and gives a distorted vision. He whose soul is filled with anger and clouded by passion cannot pray. Before he lays his gift upon the altar, he must be reconciled to his brother. (2) Scripture is full of warnings against evil temper: "He that is soon angry dealeth foolishly." "Make no friendship with an angry man, and with a furious man thou shalt not go, lest thou learn his ways and get a snare to thy soul." "An angry man stirreth up strife, and a furious man aboundeth in transgression." "Be ye angry and sin not; let not the sun go down upon your wrath." "Let all bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamor, and evil speaking be put away from you, with all malice; and be ye kind one to another, tender hearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you." The example of our blessed Lord specially teaches the same lessen. Calmly and peacefully He pursued His divine work. "When reviled he reviled not again, but committed himself to him that judgeth righteously." Before the High Priest, Pilate and Herod, His indignant silence was more eloquent than scorching words.
II.We should deliberately cultivate self-control.—If a railway train is going swiftly along, and the driver sees something on the track, he applies the brake, and thus avoids collision. In regard to temper, self-control is like the brake, and we should be ever ready to put it on. A person can come, in time, to get a wonderful control over his temper if he watches against it. The writer knew a young man who was at one time of an ungovernable temper; he used to be at times like "one possessed." But by watching and resolutely putting on the brake he grew up one of the sweetest-tempered and most lovable of men. He fought the wild beast within him, lashed it and kept it down. A merchant had passionately abused a Quaker, who received his outburst of ill-temper in silence. Being afterwards ashamed of himself, he asked the other how he was able to show such patience. "Friend," replied the Quaker, "I will tell thee. I was naturally as hot and violent as thou art. I knew that to indulge temper was sinful, and I found it was imprudent. I observed that men in a passion always spoke loud, and I thought if I could control my voice I should repress my passion. I have therefore made it a rule never to allow my voice to be above a certain key, and by a careful observance of this rule I have, by the blessing of God, mastered my natural temper." Strong resolution can do much. "If the pot boils," says the proverb, "take it off the fire." A little care, a word swallowed, a rising sentence struck down in us by a simple rule, may save us humiliation. "By reflection, by restraint and control a wise man can make himself an island which no floods can overwhelm. He who is tolerant with the intolerant, mild with the fault-finders, and free from passion with the passionate, him I indeed call a wise man."—Buddhist saying.
III. But while an act of self-control can restore the proper temper and balance to the mind when it is in danger,the best way is to keep it so that it will not go off the balance. You know that if a clock stops, we may perhaps make it go again by a shake; if it does not keep time, we can often put the hands right; but the best way is to keep the machinery always so well balanced and adjusted that it will not stop or go wrong. We may watch and control the temper when it breaks out; but the better way is to keep it so well balanced that it will not break out. The soul that is in harmony with God, that is full of the spirit of Christ, will ever be peaceful and serene. If ill-temper is our besetting sin, God's grace, if we ask it, will give us power to conquer it While we watch against it, we should pray against it also. The beautiful words of Thomas à Kempis point out to us the secret of the well-tempered and well-balanced mind: "First keep thyself in peace, and then thou wilt be able to bring others to peace." If "the peace of God which passeth all understanding" keep our hearts and minds, through Christ Jesus, our life will never have its serenity disturbed by ill-temper.
[1] I wish to acknowledge my indebtedness for some hints in this chapter to an interesting work on "Self-Culture," by James Freeman Clarke.