He that hath no rule over his own spirit is like a city broken down, and without walls.
Self-government essential to wisdom
Here is shown the ruinous condition of the person who has no rule over his own spirit. What can concern a man more than the art of self-government? It is inexcusable for a man to be a stranger to himself, and not to know how to make the best of his own natural powers and affections.
I. What is it to have rule over our own spirits We ought to consider the entire constitution of our minds. There is something in the spirit which has a right to dominion, as being in its nature superior; there are other parts which hold an inferior place, and ought to be in subjection. There is conscience, a sense of duty and sin, and of moral good and evil; a necessary self approbation arising from the one, and reproach and condemnation from the other. And there are propensities in our minds arising on particular occasions of life. These have been conquered, and may be.
II. Where is the proper authority lodged? Some things are necessary effects of laws of nature, and in relation to them man has no rule. A man can inquire and deliberate. The active powers may be suspended while we deliberate. To have rule over our own spirits is to keep the passions under anexact discipline. And there are natural desires in men of very unequal moment which often rise to passions. The true end of self-government is that the superior powers of the mind may be preserved in their due exercise. (J. Abernethy, M.A.)
The diversity of men’s natural tempers
The spirit sometimes means a temper, disposition, or turn of mind, in general: thus we read of “an haughty spirit” and of “an humble spirit.” This is, perhaps, the meaning of the expression in my text: by him that hath no rule over his own spirit may be meant the person who hath no government of his passions. But the expression may, without any impropriety, be taken for a man’s particular temper or predominant turn of mind. God delights in variety throughout all His works. The same God is the Father of our spirits; and He has formed them also with considerable variety. All matter has the same essential properties; yet the forms into which God has moulded it, and the purposes to which He has applied the several parts of it, are infinitely different. In like manner the souls of all men are indued with the same faculties; but from the degrees in which they possess these faculties, and from the proportions in which they are combined, there results an endless diversity of characters in the human species. When the malevolent passions have a tendency to predominate in the soul, they occasion all those diversities of temper to which we apply the epithets sour, sullen, morose, severe, captious, peevish, passionate, ill-humoured, and the like. On the contrary, the prevalence of the benevolent affections of the heart produces a great variety of tempers, some of which we term the sweet, the gentle, the mild, the soft, the courteous, the tender, the sympathising, the affectionate, the generous. We may observe further that very great diversities of temper may proceed from the same passion, only by its being predominant in different manners. The passionate temper and the peevish are extremely different; yet they both proceed from the predominance of the very same principle--sudden anger. Deliberate anger produces in those who have a propensity to it many distinctions of temper unlike to both these. It may be remarked likewise that some tempers proceed from the weakness of a particular disposition more properly than from a predominance of the contrary. Courage, so far as it is constitutional, proceeds merely from the absence of fear. Impudence is not the prevalence of any positive affection, but only the want of shame. A want or a relative weakness in any one of the numerous parts of a clock affects the soundness of the whole machine. The several passions and affections are, in different men, combined in an infinite variety of ways, and every particular combination of them produces a distinct temper. Perhaps every temper, when it is analysed, will be found not to arise from the prevalence of a single affection, but to derive its form in some degree from the union of several. Thus in a compounded colour different ingredients are mixed, and may be observed on attention, though one be so much predominant as to give it its common denomination. But it is not only by the prevalence of some of them in comparison with the rest that the passions produce diversities of temper among mankind: the general tone also of all the passions occasions a suitable peculiarity. A musical instrument acquires different tones by having all its strings wound up to different keys. The passions of different persons are as it were wound up to a variety of keys, and thence their souls derive distinct tones of temper. Though the passions be the most immediate causes of the varieties of temper, and though on that account they required our principal notice in explaining these varieties, yet it must be observed that some peculiarities of temper are occasioned almost wholly by the form of the intellectual powers. When the understanding is clear and decisive it lays the foundation of a firm and determined temper; an inability to form a clear opinion produces fickleness and inconsistency. The same temper may, in different men, proceed from different causes. The source of fickleness and inconstancy is sometimes weakness of judgment; sometimes timidity; and sometimes the keenness of all the passions, hurrying a man continually into new pursuits according as they happen to be excited in their turns. A temper of rashness may proceed from an improvident judgment, from theabsence of fear and caution, or from the violence of any passion. As similar tempers may proceed from dissimilar causes, so even opposite tempers may proceed from the same cause. The sceptical temper and the credulous may ultimately be resolved into the same imbecility of understanding, an inability of clearly discerning the real force of evidence. This inability likewise gives rise to an obstinate temper in some, to a wavering temper in others: one is immovable in all his designs, because he is incapable of discerning the strength of those reasons which should persuade him to alter them; another is fickle in them all, because he cannot see the weakness of the reasons which are produced against them. Such are the general causes of the diversity of tempers among mankind. As no two plants are exactly alike, as no two human faces are absolutely undistinguishable, so no two tempers are perfectly the same. Every man has “his own spirit,” his peculiar temper, by which he differs from every other man.
1. Each of us should study to know his own particular temper. The knowledge of our natural temper is one important part of the knowledge of ourselves.
2. A proper sense of the endless variety of tempers in the human species would lead us to make greater allowance for the sentiments and conduct of others than we often do.
3. The amazing diversity of tempers in the human species is a striking instance of the contrivance and wisdom of the God who made us. Variety, combined with uniformity, may be considered as the very characteristic of design; a perfect combination of them is an indication of perfect wisdom. (Alex. Gerard, D.D.)
The necessity of governing the natural temper
Is it, then, needful to evince the necessity of a man governing his own temper? Every man acknowledges that all others ought to govern their tempers, and complains of them when they do not. That we may perceive how much it is the duty of every one of us to govern his own temper, let us attend to the ill effects of neglecting to govern it. They are pointed out by an expressive figure in the text: “He that hath no rule over his own spirit is like a city that is broken down and without walls”; he has no security against abandoning himself to every vice. Need I point out minutely the vices to which the indulgence of a contracted and selfish temper naturally leads? The selfish affections are various; they turn to different objects; but it requires the strictest government to prevent a temper founded on the prevalence of any of them from degenerating into the correspondent vice, ambition, or vanity, or avarice, or sensuality, and the love of pleasure. It is still less necessary to enter into a long detail of the detestable vices which spring from a temper founded in a propensity to any of the malevolent passions. They lead to vices which spread misery through society, and which overwhelm the person himself with greater misery than he brings upon those around him. Habitual peevishness, producing fretfulness on every, the slightest, occasion, putting one out of humour with every person and every thing, creating incessant uneasiness to those who are connected with him, eating out the enjoyment of life, is the natural effect of a temper founded on a propensity to anger, though accompanied with the weakest tone of passion. In whatever way our temper most disposes the several passions and affections to exert themselves, it will, without regulation, prove the source of peculiar vices. When the propensity to desire renders the temper keen and eager, if we lay it under no restraint, it must engage us in trifling and vicious pursuits; in respect of the object of our pursuit, whether pleasure, profit, or power, it must render us craving and insatiable, ever unsatisfied with what we have obtained, wishing and plotting for more; and in respect of the means of prosecution, it must render us impetuous and violent, regardless of the bounds of right, impatient of every delay and opposition. Is the opposite propensity to aversion indulged? Everything wears a gloomy aspect, and is viewed on its darkest side: we act as if we were resolved never to be pleased; we search for occasions of disgust, regret, and uneasiness, and we find them in every object; every gentle affection is banished from the breast; discontent, fretfulness, and ill-humour become habitual. The same temper, it may be further observed, will lead a man, with equal readiness, into opposite vices in opposite situations. The same littleness of mind renders a man insolent in prosperity and abject in adversity. That vice, be it what it will, to which our particular temper directly leads us, is an enemy already advanced to the gates of the heart; and if it finds the heart “like a city without walls,” it enters at its pleasure; we can make no resistance. But this is very far from being the whole effect of our neglecting to govern our natural temper: the man who ruleth not his spirit does not merely become enslaved to one vice; in consequence of this he is open to every vice. Every ruling sin will require from the man who lives in the indulgence of it the commission of many others for its support, for its gratification, or for disguising and concealing it. But it deserves to be particularly remarked that as soon as the misgovernment of natural temper has subjected a man to one ruling vice, he is no longer proof against even such vices as are in themselves most opposite to that very temper. Every one’s observation will supply him with instances of persons who, being engaged in one vicious course, have by it been led into sins most contrary to their nature; with instances of the soft and gentle being brought to act with cruelty; of the benevolent and kind-hearted labouring to bring ruin upon those who happened to stand in the way of some unlawful project; of the generous, in the prosecution of some bad design, stooping to the most sordid actions; of the candid and open betrayed into schemes of artifice, dissimulation, and falsehood; of the timid rushing forward into the most dangerous crimes. Thus the man who abandons himself to that one vice which arises from the corruption of his natural temper is from that moment in danger of every sin. Every predominant vice requires as great a number of other vices to be subservient to it in the course of a wicked life as the ministers whom any tyrant can stand in need of to be the instruments of his cruelty, rapacity, and lusts. By being “like a city without walls,” destitute of defence against any sin, he becomes “like a city broken down,” reduced to ruins, desolated, uninhabited, and uninhabitable. Can you think without terror of the accumulated guilt of all these vices, and of the punishment to which they must expose you? Possessed and actuated by these emotions, be roused to every exertion for removing the faulty propensity of your nature. While you neglect to govern your natural temper, all your endeavours to avoid or to mortify the vices which spring from it will be but like lopping off a few twigs, which the vigour of the root will enable quickly to grow again, perhaps stronger and more luxuriant than before: it is only by setting yourselves at once to govern it, to rectify all its perversities, that you can lay the axe to the root of the tree, andeffectually kill all the branches. (Alex. Gerard, D.D.)
The manner of governing the natural temper
To extirpate one’s natural temper is impossible. It is a distinguishing character, impressed on every soul by the hand of the Almighty, which the power of man can no more erase than it can efface the distinctive characters of the several kinds of plants and animals, and reduce them all to one kind. If it were possible for a man to destroy his peculiar temper, it would not be necessary; it would be even pernicious. Among all the varieties of temper which men possess there is not one inconsistent with virtue, there is not one which duty requires us to endeavour to extirpate. But though it be neither possible nor necessary to extirpate the natural temper, it is both possible and necessary to govern it. We every day meet with persons who, from good breeding, or from prudence, can disguise their temper and keep it from showing itself, not on one occasion, but on many occasions andthrough a long course of time; could not, then, better principles enable them to correct it? A physiognomist pretended to discover by his art that the great Athenian philosopher Socrates was addicted to vices so opposite to his whole conduct and character, that all who knew him were disposed to ridicule the pretensions of the physiognomist as absurd; but, to their astonishment, Socrates declared that he was, by his constitutional bias, prone to all the vices which had been imputed to him, and that it was only by philosophy that he had got the better of them. Would it not be shameful if many Christians could not make a similar declaration?
1. The first object of a man’s care, in ruling his own spirit, is to refrain his natural bias, so that it may not become vicious, or lead him into sin. Every passion and affection is weak and pliable in the moment of its birth. Had we always recollection enough to observe, and resolution enough to check its first tendency to irregularity, our victory over it would be easy. But if we let slip this favourable moment, it will soon be able to carry us wherever it pleases. If, therefore, we would refrain our predominant passion, we must be at the greatest pains to avoid the objects, the opinions, the imaginations, which are favourable to itsgrowth. In order to restrain our ruling passion it will often be necessary studiously to turn our attention to such objects, and to accustom ourselves to such actions as are most contradictory to it. When a twig has long been bent one way it cannot be made straight without being for some time bent the contrary way. The vices to which the natural temper gives us a propensity are those which we shall find the greatest difficulty in conquering, and which, after many defeats, will most frequently revolt. The last vices which a good man is able to subdue are his constitutional vices.
2. It implies that every man render his temper subservient to the practice of virtue and holiness. As every natural temper, even the most amiable, may degenerate into vice, so, on the contrary, every temper, even that which becomes most disagreeable by the smallest corruption of it, may be made to contribute to the virtue of the heart. Some turns of temper are naturally and strongly allied to virtue. All the tempers which are founded in a predominance of the kind affections are directly favourable to the love of mankind, to all the important virtues of benevolence and charity, and render the practice of every social duty easy and pleasant; or that they introduce a habit of soul congruous to the love of God, as well as to that inward serenity which characterises every grace, and renders it doubly amiable. Other turns of temper are, as it were, neutral between virtue and vice: in perceiving how these may be rendered serviceable to virtue there is little difficulty. The keen and eager temper in which desire is the chief ingredient, when directed to holiness as its object, will render a man spirited in the practice of it, and susceptible of a strong impulse from its joys and rewards. The contrary temper in which aversion prevails, tends to cherish a deep abhorrence of sin, which is one of the strongest securities against the indulgence of it. Both these tempers may become equally conducive to holiness by prompting us, the one to avoid evil, the other to do good. A high tone of passion, a sensibility, ardour, or activity of spirit, prepares the soul for entering into the raptures of devotion, for feeling the fervours of godly zeal, for showing eminent alacrity in every duty. A temper opposite to this may be improved into a settled composure and calm equability in the love and practice of holiness. It is more needful to observe, because it is not so obvious, that even those turns of temper which are most nearly allied to vice, and which are with the greatest difficulty kept from running into it, may notwithstanding be rendered subservient to virtue. Pride, for instance, may be improved into true dignity of character, into a noble and habitual disdain of every thought and action that is mean or base. An ambitious temper needs only to be fixed upon its properest objects in order to animate us in the indefatigable pursuits of that genuine honour which results from the approbation of God and from the glories of heaven, and which will be bestowed only on the righteous, and in proportion to their righteousness. A temper which, by being neglected, would become blameably selfish and contracted, will, by being governed, become eminently conducive to prudence, and an incitement to diligence in that course of holiness which is our real wisdom and our best interest. Even that temper in which the malevolent affections tend to preponderate, the sour, the morose, the irascible, may be rendered subservient to our virtue and improvement: if it be curbed so strongly as not to lead us to hurt others, or to wish for their hurt, it will exert itself in a keen indignation against vice, a rigorous purity of heart, a blameless severity of manners; and it will make us inaccessible to many temptations which have great power over soft and gentle and social minds.
3. We ought not only to render our peculiar temper subservient to virtue, but also to incorporate it with all our virtues. All the good men whose lives the Scripture has recorded display different forms of holiness derived from their dissimilar tempers. Job is characterised by patience; Moses by meekness; David is high-spirited, his devotion is fervent, his virtues are allheroic; John and Paul are both warm, fervent, and affectionate, but the warmth of the former is sweet and gentle, that of the latter bold and enterprising. As every man thus derives from nature a distinct personal character, he ought to adhere to it, and to preserve its peculiar decorum. He can preserve it only by maintaining his own natural temper so far as it is innocent, and acting always in conformity to it. To conclude: If we would rule our own spirit, if we would govern our natural temper, let us restrain it from degenerating into vice, or leading us into sin. The means of governing our peculiar temper are the same with the means of performing every other duty, resolution, congruous exercises, watchfulness and prayer. But all these means we must in this case employ with peculiar care and diligence, because it is a matter of peculiar difficulty to control and regulate our predominant disposition. Its importance is, however, in proportion to its difficulty. If we can effectually accomplish this, it will render it the easier to subdue all our other irregular passions. They act in subordination to it, and derive a great part of their strength from it; and to subdue it is like cutting off the general who was the spirit of the battle, and on whose fall the army breaks and takes to flight. (Alex. Gerard, D.D.)
Self-government
No man can be said to have attained complete rule over his own spirit who has not under his habitual control the tenor of his thoughts, the language of his lips, and motions of lust and appetite, and the energy of his passion. This shows you at once the extent, and the division of our subject.
I. The government of the thoughts. After all that has been written on the subject of self-command, the regulation of the thoughts has seldom drawn the attention of moralists. On the authority of silly maxims like these, that thought is free as air, that no one can help what he thinks, innumerable hours are wasted in idle reveries without the suspicion of blame. The time which we fondly supposed to be merely wasted in doing nothing may have been easily employed in mischievous imaginations, and thus what was considered as lost simply is found to be abused. When we reflect also that every licentious principle, every criminal project, and every atrocious deed is the fruit of a distempered fancy, whose rovings were originally unchecked till thoughts grew into desires, desires ripened into resolves, and resolves terminated in execution, well may we tremble at discovering how feeble is the control over our imaginations which we have hitherto acquired. We do not say that Caesar, brooding over his schemes of ambition in his tent, was as guilty as Caesar passing the Rubicon and turning his arms against his country; but we do say that licentiousness of thought ever precedes licentiousness of conduct; and that many a crime which stains human nature was generated in the retirement of the closet, in the hours of idle and listless thought, perhaps over the pages of a poisonous book, or during the contemplation of a licentious picture.
II. The government of the tongue. “If any man offend not in word, the same is a perfect man.” This will not appear an extravagant assertion when we consider how numerous are the vices in which this little member takes an active part. If we consider these vices of the tongue in the order of their enormity, we shall see how easily one generates another. Talkativeness, the venial offspring of a lively, not to say an unrestrained, fancy, hardly rises to a fault till it is found that he “who talks incessantly must often talk foolishly, and that the prattle of a vain and itching tongue degenerates rapidly into that foolish talking and jesting which, as an apostle says, are not convenient. If for every idle, unprofitable, false or calumniating word which men shall speak they shall give an account in the day of judgment, what account shall those men render whose conversation first polluted the pure ear of childhood, first soiled the chastity and whiteness of the young imagination, whose habitual oaths first taught the child to pronounce the name of God without reverence, or to imprecate curses on his mates with all the thoughtlessness of youth, but with all the passion and boldness of manhood?
III. The government of the animal appetites. “Dearly beloved, I beseech you, abstain from fleshly lusts which war against the soul.” For how humiliating is the consideration, enough, indeed, to make us weep with shame, that man, the noblest work of God on earth, the lord of this lower world, that this noble creature should suffer himself to fall into the hands of the grovelling mob of appetites, and to be fettered by base lusts which ought to be his slaves--that this ethereal spirit should be wasted in the service of sensuality, and this intelligence, capable of mounting to heaven, be sunk and buried in the slime and pollution of gross and brutal pleasures!
IV. The government of the passions. Not to be in a passion is generally the amount of the notion which the world entertains of self-command. In the broad scheme of gospel ethics, the opposite to anger is meekness; and meekness is no narrow or superficial virtue. The meek man of the gospel is the very reverse of those who act the most bustling and noisy part on the theatre of human life. He finds himself in a world where he will be oftener called to suffer than to act. He is not ambitious, because he sees little here worth ambition. Humility is the gentle and secret stream which runs through his life and waters all his virtues. To the government of the passions the principal prerequisite is the restriction of the desires; therefore, as he expects little from the world he will not often quarrel with it for the treatment he receives. (J. S. Buckminster.)
Self-control
I. What is meant by not having rule over our own spirit?
1. Intemperance of feeling, especially angry feeling.
2. Extravagance of speech.
3. Rashness of conduct.
4. Hence the formation of pernicious habits.
II. The evil of lacking self-control. It destroys the walls of our city, and exposes us--
1. To the inroads of sin; and is itself sin.
2. To insult and dishonour.
3. To the machinations of foes.
4. To utter destitution and ruin.
III. The means of promoting self-control.
1. Habitual efforts of the will.
2. Avoidance of temptation.
3. Prayerful dependence on God’s Spirit.
4. A serious and thoughtful habit of mind.
IV. Reasons and encouragements.
1. Self-control is an essential part of our salvation.
2. The example of God’s forbearance.
3. The example of Christ’s meekness.
4. Its connection with our usefulness.
5. Self-control gives real increase of power.
V. Applications.
1. To the Christians in their family and friendly intercourse.
2. To Christians in Church deliberation and action.
3. To Christians in secular business and general intercourse with the world. In conclusion, distinguish between self-control and apathy; and show its consistency with being zealously affected in a good cause. (TheCongregational Pulpit.)
