The Meekness of Love

“Charity suffereth long — is not easily provoked.”

I CLASS these two together, because they bear a near affinity to each other. The word in the original translated “suffereth long,” signifies “to have a long mind,” to the end of whose patience, provocations cannot easily reach. It does not mean patience in reference to the afflictions which come from God, but to the injuries and provocations which come from man — perhaps the most correct idea which we can attach to it is, forbearance; a disposition which, under long continued offences, holds back anger, and is not hasty to punish or to revenge. Its kindred property, here classed with it, is nearly allied to it, “is not easily provoked,” or “is not exasperated.” The word signifies a violent emotion of the mind, a paroxysm of anger; so that the distinction between the two terms appears to be this, — the property intended by the latter seems to be the power of love to curb our wrath, and that intended by the former its ability to repress revenge.

There are three things which Christian love, in reference to the irascible passions, will prevent.

1. An irritable and petulant disposition. There is in some persons an excessive liability to be offended; a morbid sensibility, which is kindled to anger by the least possible injury, whether that injury be intentional or unintentional. They are all combustible, and ignite by a spark. A word, nay a look, is enough to inflame them. They are ever ready to quarrel with any, or every body; and remind us of what Cromwell said of John Lilburne, “that he was so quarrelsome, that if he could find nobody else to quarrel with, John would quarrel with Lilburne, and Lilburne with John.” The whole soul seems one entire sensitiveness of offence. Instead of “suffering long,” they do not suffer at all; and instead of not being easily provoked, they are provoked by anything, and sometimes by nothing. Love will prevent all this, and produce a disposition the very reverse. It is concerned for the happiness of others; and will not wantonly afflict them, and render them wretched, by such an exhibition of unlovely and unchristian temper. It wifl remove this diseased sensibility, and, without blunting the natural feelings, will calm this sinful excitability. Many things it will not see or hear — judging them quite beneath its dignity to notice; others it will pass by, as not of sufficient consequence to require explanation. It wifl keep a strict guard over its feelings, holding the rein with a tight hand. Its first business is with the disposition itself. This is important for us to notice; for if we indulge the feeling of anger, it will be impossible to smother the flame in our bosom; like the burning materials of a volcano, it will at length burst out in fiery eruptions. Here, then, is our first object: to gain that forbearance of disposition, which does not allow itself to be irritated or soured; to acquire that command, not only over our words and actions, but over our emotions, which shall make us patient and tranquil amidst insults and injuries — which shall leep down the temperament of the soul, and preserve the greatest coolness. Irritability, I know, is in part a physical quality; but it is in our power, by God’s help to calm it. Love will make us willing to think the best of those with whom we have to do; it will disarm us of that suspicion and mistrust, which make us regard every body as intending to injure us; will cause. us to find out pleas for those who have done us harm, and when this is impossible, will lead us to pity their weakness or forgive their wickedness.

What an enemy to himself is an irritable man! He is a self-tormentor of the worst kind. He is scarcely ever at peace. His bosom is always in a stfite of tumult. To him the calm sunshine of the breast is unknown. A thousand petty vexations disturb his repose. Unhappy man, even though he so far succeed, as to restrain the agitations of his mind from bursting out into passion, yet has he the burning sense of torment within. Regard to his own happiness, as well as to the happiness of others, calls upon him to cultivate that love, which shall allay the inflammatory state of his mind, and restore a soundness which “will not be thus wounded by every touch.

2. The next thing which love prevents, is immoderate anger; that anger which the apostle has described in the expression we are now elucidating, as amounting to a paroxysm of wrath; or which, in ordinary language, we call “being in a passion.” It would be to oppose both reason and revelation, to assert that all anger is sin. “Be ye angry,” saith the apostle, “and sin not.” “A violent suppression of the natural feelings is not, perhaps, the best expedient for obviating their injurious effects; and though nothing requires a more vigilant restraint than the emotion of anger, the uneasiness of which it is productive is, perhaps, best allayed by its natural and temperate expression; not to say that it is a wise provision in the economy of nature, for the expression of injury and the preservation of the peace and decorum of society.” A wise and temperate expression of our displeasure against injuries or offences, is by no means incompatible with Christian love; this grace intending only to check those furious sallies of our wrath, which are tormenting to ourselves and injurious to those with whom we have to do. Sinful anger is lamentably common, and is not sufficiently subdued among the professors of religion. In cases of offence, they are too often excited to criminal degrees of passion; their countenance is flushed, their y)row lowers, their eye darts indignant flashes, and their tongue pours forth loud and stormy words of reviling accusations. To diminish and prevent this disposition, let us dwell much upon the evil consequences of it.

It disturbs our peace, and interrupts our happiness; and this is an evil about which we ought not to be indifferent. A p assionate man cannot be a happy man; he is the victim of a temper, which, Uke a serpent, dwells in his bosom to sting and torment him.

It destroys the comfort of those with whom he has to do: his children often bear the fury of the tempest; his wife has her cup of conjugal fehcity embittered by the venom; his servants tremble as at the rage of a tyrant; and those with whom he transacts the business of this life dread the gusts of. his passion, by which they have often been rendered uncomfortable. He is a common disturber of the circle in which he moves.

It interrupts his enjoyment of religion, brings guilt upon his conscience, and unfits him for the season and the act of communion with God. A beautiful illustration of this part of the subject may be here introduced from one of the most striking of English writers: — “Prayer is the peace of our spirit, the stillness of our thoughts, the evenness of recollection, the seat of meditation, the rest of our cares, and the calm of our tempest; prayer is the issue of a quiet mind, of untroubled thoughts; it is the daughter of charity, and the sister of meekness: and he that prays to God with an angry, that is, with a troubled and discomposed spirit, is like him that retires into a battle to meditate, and sets up his closet in the out-quarters of an army, and chooses a frontier garrison to be wise in. Anger is a perfect alienation of the mind from prayer, and, therefore, is contrary to that attention which presents our prayers in a right line to God. For so have I seen a lark rising from his bed of grass, and soaring upwards, singing as he rises, and hopes to get to heaven, and climb above the clouds: but the poor bird was beaten back with the loud sighing’s of an eastern wind, and his motion made irregular and inconstant — descending more at every breath of the tempest, than it could recover by the libration and frequent weighing of his wings; till the little creature was forced to sit down and pant, and stay till the storm was over, and then it made a prosperous flight, and did rise and sing as if it had learned music and motion from an angel, as he passed sometimes through the air about his ministries here below. So is the prayer of a good man: when his affairs have required business, and his business was matter of discipline, and his discipline was to pass upon a sinning person, or had a design of charity; his duty met with the infirmities of a man, and anger was its instrument; and the instrument became stronger than the prime agent, and raised a tempest, and overruled the man; and then his prayer was broken, and his thoughts were troubled, and his words went up towards a cloud, and his thoughts pulled them back again, and made them without intention: and the good man sighs for his infirmity, but must be content to lose the prayer; and he must recover it when his anger is removed, and his spirit is becalmed — made even as the brow of Jesus and smooth as the heart of God; and then it ascends to heaven upon the wings of the holy dove, and dwells with God, till it returns, like the useful bee, laden with a blessing and the dew of heaven.”*

Sinful anger dishonours religion, and causes the ways of godliness to be spoken ill of. The mists of passion envelope religion with a dense medium, through which its lustre is but dimly seen. A passionate Christian is an object of sport to the profane, a butt of ridicule to fools, whose scorn is reflected from him upon piety itself.

But, perhaps, it will be said, “Tell us how we may cure the disposition; its existence we admit, and its evil we know by experience, and deplore.” I say, then,

* Bishop Jeremy Taylor,

Look at the disposition as it really is, attentively consider its evil nature, and trace its mischievous consequences. “Anger sets the house on fire, and all the spirits are busy upon trouble, and intend propulsion and defence, displeasure, and revenge; it is a short madness, and an eternal enemy to discourse, and sober counsels, and fair conversation; it is a fever in the heart, and a calenture in the head, and a fire in the face, and a sword in the hand, and a fury all over. It hath in it the trouble of sorrow, and the heats of lust, and the disease of revenge; and the bodings of a fever, and the rashness of precipitancy, and the disturbance of persecution. If it proceed from a great cause, it turns to fury; if from a small cause, it is peevishness: and so it is always terrible or ridiculous. It makes a man’s body deformed and contemptible, the voice horrid, the eyes cruel, the face pale or fiery, the gait fierce. It is neither manly nor ingenuous, and is a passion fitter for flies and wasps than for persons professing nobleness and bounty. It is a.confluence of all the irregular passions. There is in it envy and scorn, fear and sorrow, pride and prejudice, rashness and inconsideration, rejoicing in evil, and a desire to inflict it.”*

Such is the portraiture of this disposition, drawn by the hand of no mean artist. Let the passionate man look at the picture, and learn to hate it; for, like an infuriated serpent, it need only be seen to be abhorred.

Let us reject all excuses for the indulgence of it; for so long as we palliate it, we shall not attempt to mortify it It cannot be defended, either on the ground of constitutional tendency, or the greatness of the provocation, or the suddenness of the offence, or the transient duration of the fit, or that there is less evil in gusts of anger than in seasons of sullenness: no — nothing can justify it: and if we are sincere in our desires to control it, we shall admit that it is indefensible and criminal, and condemn it without hesitation or extenuation,

Bishop Jeremy Taylor*

We must he persuaded that it is possible to control it; for if we despair of victory, we shall not engage in the conflict. Hope of success is essential to success itself.

It is certain that by using right means a hasty temper may be subdued, for it has been conquered in very many instances. It is said of Socrates, the wisest and most virtuous of heathen sages, that in the midst of domestic vexations and public disorders, he maintained such an undisturbed serenity, that he was never seen to leave his own house or return to it with a ruffled countenance. If on any occasion he felt a propensity to anger, he checked the rising storm by lowering the tone of his voice, and resolutely assuming a more than usual gentleness of aspect and manner. He not only refrained from acts of revenge, but triumphed ever his adversaries, by disregarding the insults and injuries they offered him. This was more remarkable, as in acquiring this dominion over his passions, he had to struggle against natural propensities which ran in an opposite direction. Zophyrus, an eminent physiognomist, declared that he discovered in the features of the philosopher evident traces of many vicious inclinations: the friends of Socrates, who were present, ridiculed the ignorance of this pretender to extraordinary sagacity; but the Sage ingenuously acknowledged the penetration of Zophyrus, and confessed that he was naturally prone to vice, but that he had subdued his inclinations by the power of reason and philosophy. Let professing Christians learn, from this distinguished heathen, that it is possible to sulxlue natural temper, however bad and however violent it may be.

Make its cure a matter of desire. What we ardently long for, we shall vigorously pursue. Confess your sin: frankly say, “I am indeed too irritable, too passionate, too revengeful. I see the sinfulness of indulg-^ ing such a temper; I am disturbed and disgraced by it; and by God’s help I will subdue it. I will spare no pains, shrink from no sacrifice, be discouraged by no defeat, till I gain the victory over myself”

Meditate upon the patience of God, who bears with your innumerable offences against Him, and forgives them all. Consider the example of Jesus Christ, who meekly “endured the contradiction of sinners against himself; and amidst ingratitude, insults, and provocations of the basest kind, was mild as the morning sun in autumn.”

Seek to acquire a habit of self-control — a power over your feelings, which shall enable you to be ever on your guard, and to repress the first emotions of passion. If possible, seal your lips in silence when the storm is rising: shut up your anger in your own bosom, and, like fire that wants air and vent, it will soon expire. Angry words often prove a fan to the spark: many persons, who in the beginning are but slightly displeased, talk themselves at length into a violent passion. Never speak till you are cool; the man who can command his tongue, will find no difficulty in governing his spirit. And when you do speak, let it be in meekness: “a soft answer turneth away wrath.” When you see others angry, let it be an admonition to you to be cool; thus you will receive the furious indiscretions of others, like a stone into a bed of moss, where it will lie quietly without rebounding.

Stop your anger in the beginning. It is easier to put out a spark than a conflagration. It would be well always to terminate the conversation, and quit the company of - an individual, when anger is creeping in. “Go from the presence of a foolish man, when thou perceivest not in him the lips of knowledge.”

Avoid disputations, which often engender strifes; and especially avoid them in reference to persons of known irritability. Who would contend with a snake or a hornet ]

Brood not over injuries; “Else,” says Mr. Baxter, you will be devils to yourselves, tempt yourselves when you have no others to tempt you, and make your solitude as dangerously provoking as company.”*

* Baxter’s Catholic Directions; from which vast fund of practical theology, many of the particulars of this chapter are derived.

Beware of tale-hearers and do not suffer their reports to rouse your resentments.

“Be not inquisitive into the affairs of other men, nor the faults of thy servants, nor the mistakes of thy friends; lest thou go out to gather sticks to kindle a fire, which shall burn thine own house.”

Look at others who are addicted to passion, and see how unlovely they appear.

Commission some faithful and affectionate friend to watch over and admonish you.

But especially mortify pride and cultivate humility, — “Only by pride cometh contention.” “He that is of a proud heart, stirreth up strife.” Passion is the daughter of pride, meekness the offspring of humility. Humility is the best cure for anger, sullenness, and revenge. He that thinks much of himself, will think much of every little offence committed against him; while he that thinks little of his own importance, will think lightly of what is done to offend him. Every irritable, passionate, or revengeful person, is certainly a proud one, and should begin the cure of his passion by the removal of his pride.

But we need go no further than the chapter before us, for an antidote to anger. Love is sufficient of itself; we must seek to have more of this heavenly virtue. Love cannot be either passionate or revengeful. Love is full of benevolence and good-will, and therefore cannot allow itself to indulge those tempers which are unfriendly to the happiness of mankind. Let us seek to strengthen this parent principle, which will prevent the growth of whatever is evil, and promote the advancement of all that is excellent.

One caution may here be suggested for the encouragement of those who are particularly tried with an irritable temper, and that is — not to despond; if, in the work of mortification, they meet with many defeats, do not be in a passion with yourselves, for being in a passion, for this will only increase the evil you are anxious to destroy. Go calmly, yet courageously, to the conflict; if victorious be not elated, if defeated be not disheartened. Often you will have to mourn your failures, and sometimes be ready to imagine that you are doomed to the hopeless task of Sysiphus, whose stone always rolled back again, when, by immense labour, he had urged it nearly to the summit of the hilL Do not expect an easy or a perfect conquest. Mourn your defeats, but do not despair. Many, after a few unsuccessful efforts, give up the cause, and abandon themselves to the tyranny of their passions. In this conflict, unsuccessful struggles are more honourable than unresisting submission.

3. Love will of course prevent revenge.

Revenge is a term that a Christian should blot out from his vocabulary with his own penitential tears, or with the drops of his gratitude for the pardon he has received from God. There is no passion more hostile to the very genius of Christianity, or more frequently forbidden by its authority, than this; and there is none to which the depravity of human nature more powerfully excites us. The volume of history is stained, from the beginning to the end, with the blood which has been shed by the demon of revenge. Mankind, in every age and country, have groaned under the misery inflicted by this restless and cruel spirit, which no mischief can satisfy, no suffering appease. Revenge has converted men into wild beasts, and inspired them with a wish to tear each other to pieces. It is not likely that such a temper as this would meet with the least toleration or sanction in the religion of the meek and lowly Jesus, whose person was an incarnation, and whose Gospel is an emanation, of love. Revenge is admitted by some as justifiable to a certain extent: by the reasoning and conduct of the world, the principle is allowed, yea honoured, and only condemned in its most vicious excess. Wars, duels, railings, private animosities, that do not infringe on the peace of society, are all justified on this ground. Mankind alter the golden rule, and do unto others, not as they would that others should do, but as others do unto them in a way of evil; and this, so far from being blamed, is generally applauded as honourable and dignified. In the estimate of the people of the world, the man who refuses to resent an injury which he has received, is a poor mean-spirited creature, unworthy to associate with men of honour.

But whatever may be the maxims of the world, revenge is certainly forbidden by every page of the Word of God. “The discretion of a man deferreth his anger, and it is his glory to pass over a transgression.” Private revenge was certainly forbidden under the Old Testament, and still more explicitly under the New. “Blessed are the poor in spirit,” said our Lord, “for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.” “Ye have heard that it hath been said, An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth: but I say unto you, That ye resist not evil. Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neighbour, and hate thine enemy: but I say unto you. Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them ‘that despitefully use you, and persecute you; that ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven.” The same sentiments are enjoined by the apostles. “Recompense to no man evil for evil. If it be possible, as much as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men. Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath: for it is written, Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord. Therefore, if thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him drink; for in so doing thou shalt heap coals of fire on his head. Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good” These passages are decisive upon the point, that revenge m any form, or in any measure, is forbidden by the Christian religion.

The misfortune of many is, that they mistake the meaning of the term revenge — or rather they confine its application to the grosser, more mischievous, and more violent expressions of wrath: they think that nothing is revenge but cutting or maiming the person, openly elandering the reputation, or wantonly injuring the property. Such, it must be admitted, are fearful ebullitions of this destructive passion; but they are not the only ways in which it expresses itself. There are a thousand petty acts of spite and ill will, by which a revengeful spirit may operate. If we refuse to speak to another by whom we have been injured, and pass him with silent or manifest scorn; if we take delight in talking of his failings, and in lowering him in the opinion of others; if we show ill will to his children or relations on his account: if we watch for an opportunity to perform some little act of annoyance towards him, and feel gratified in the thought that we have given him trouble or pain; — all this is done in a spirit of retaliation, and is as truly, though not so dreadfully, the actings of revenge, as if we proceeded to inflict bodily injury. The spirit of revenge simply means returning evil for evil, and taking pleasure in doing so. It may go to the extremes of calumny and murder, or may confine itself to the infliction of minor wrongs; but if we, in any way, resent an injury with ill will towards the persons who committed it, this is revenge.

A question will here arise, whether, according to this view, we are not forbidden to defend our persons, our property, and our reputation, from the aggressions of lawless mischief] Certainly not. If an assassin attempt to maim or to murder me, I am allowed to resist the attack, even to extremity; for this is not avenging an evil, but an effort to prevent one. If our character in society be aspersed, we must endeavour, by peaceful means, to gain an apology and exculpation; and if this cannot be obtained, we are authorized to appeal to the law: for, if calumny were not punished, society could not exist. If, however, instead of appealing to the law, we were to calumniate in return; if we were to inflict bodily injury on the aggressor, or take delight in injuring him in other ways; — this would be revenge; but to seek the protection of the law, without, at the same time, indulging in malice, — this is self-defence, and the defence of society. If we are injured, or are likely to be injujred, in our property, we must try, by all private and honourable means, to prevent the aggression; be willing to settle the affair by the mediation of wise and impartial men, and keep our minds free from anger, ill will, and malice, towards the aggressors: and, as a last resource, we are justifiable in submitting the cause, if it cannot be settled by any other means, to the decision of a court of justice. No Christian should resort to the tribunal of public justice till every method of private adjustment has failed.

As it respects the propriety of Christians going to law with each other, the testimony of the apostle is decisive. “Dare any of you, having a matter against another, to go to law before ‘the unjust, and not before the saints 1 Do ye not know that the saints shall judge the world? and if the world shall be judged by you, are ye unworthy to judge the smallest matters? Know ye not that we shall judge angels? how much more things that pertain to this life? If then ye have judgments of things pertaining to this life, set them to judge who are least esteemed in the Church. I speak to your shame. Is it so, that there is not a wise man among you? no, not one that shall be able to judge between his brethren 1 But brother goeth to law with brother, and that before the unbelievers. Now, therefore, there is utterly a fault among you, because ye go to law one with another. Why do ye not rather take wrong? why do ye not rather suffer yourselves to be defrauded?” Men professing godliness, especially members of the same religious community, ought, in cases of difference about property or character, to settle all their disputes by the mediation of their own brethren; and if either party decline such arbitration, he must be accountable for all the scandal thrown on the Christian profession by the legal measures to which the other may find it necessary to resort for the protection of his rights. In this case, the guilt of infringing the apostolic regulation lies on him who refuses to accede to this scriptural method of settling the differences that may arise among those who profess to be the disciples of Christ Whatever award is made, in the case of private arbitration, both parties should abide by it; nor must the individual against whom the decision is given, feel any ill will, or cherish any revenge, towards his successful competitor. The law of love requires that innumerable minor offences should be passed over without being noticed, or suffered to disturb our peace of mind.’ And those which we find it necessary to have explained, require the utmost caution and delicacy. In these cases, love will lead us to the offender, in the spirit of meekness, to ask, not to demand — to solicit, in the most gentle manner — an explanation of the injurious treatment. In a great majority of cases, this line of conduct would stifle the animosity while it is yet a spark. If, on the contrary, we permit ourselves to take offence, and have our feelings wounded, or our anger roused; if, instead of mildly and affectionately expostulating, and seeking reconciliation, we brood over the injury, and retire in disgust, to indulge in sullenness, or to watch for an opportunity of revenge; — this is being “easily provoked,” and the very opposite of “suffering long.”