There is a raw material in humanity--often very raw--called impulse,
or enthusiasm; and some people are very proud of possessing this
spasmodic excellence. They talk glibly of their "good impulses," their
"noble impulses," their "generous impulses," but the fact is that the
majority of impulses are neither good nor noble; while they are, of
all guides in human affairs, the most questionable. For impulses do
not come from settled principles, but rather from a loose habit of
mind--a mind just drifting along, and ready to accept any new
suggestion as an "impulse," an "inspiration," a "command." We believe
far too readily the cant about emotion, and erratic genius, and suffer
ourselves to be imposed upon by fussy, impulsive people; for if we
are at all allied with such, it is impossible to escape imposition;
since we have to be patient enough for two, and so bear an undue
burden of civility and good manners.
It may be said that such a discipline is not to be despised, and could
be made a lesson of spiritual grace. But if we are not sick, why
should we take medicine? Lessons God sets us, He helps us to learn,
but there are no promises for those who impose penance upon
themselves. And it is a penance to associate with impulsive, fussy
persons; for no matter how good their impulses are, they are simply
nowhere--as far as noble, enduring work is concerned--beside
well-considered plans, carried out by cool, consistent people, who
know what can be done and do it,--just as much next year as this year;
just as well in one place as in another.
Ministers of the gospel know this fact perhaps better than any other
mortals. They are constantly finding out how uncertain a quantity good
impulses are to depend upon. For they have not the habit of
materializing into good actions; they are evanescent pretenders to
righteousness; they tell more flattering tales than ever Hope told.
All too soon the practical, calm minister discovers that impulse and
enthusiasm are but rudimentary virtues, and seldom available for any
real, good work. The men of service, either in spiritual or temporal
work, are men whom nothing hurries or flurries; who are never in
haste, and never too late. They are not men of impulse, but of
consideration. Whether they are going to deliver a sermon or keep a
momentous appointment, to get a high office or a sum of money, or
merely to catch an express train, they are perfectly cool, and always
in time. Of course, impulsive people keep appointments and catch
trains, but oh, what a fuss they make about it!
Unfortunately, calm, grand natures are not of indigenous growth, and
we do not do all we might to cultivate them. If we took more time to
think, we should be less impulsive, more reasonable, less shallow. If
we made less haste, we should make more speed. "Slow and sure win the
race" is a proverb embodying a great truth. Fussy, impulsive people
never get at the bottom of things, never give an impartial judgment,
never are masters of any difficult situation; for the power of
deliberation, of staving off personal likes and dislikes, of waiting,
of knowing when to wait and when to move,--are powers invariably
linked with a cool head and a clear, calm will. But none of these
grand qualities come at the call of impulse. Even good impulses are of
no practical value until they crystallize into good deeds. Without
this result the impulse or the intention to do great things may be a
serious spiritual danger; the soul may satisfy itself with its
impulses and designs, and rest upon them; forgetting what place of
ineffectual regret is paved with good intentions.
In a certain sense it is true that the power of taking things in a
cool, practical way is often an affair of the pulse, and so many
beats, more or less, per minute, make a person fussy or serene. But it
is only true in measure. Forethought and preparation--realizing what
is likely to happen, and what is best to be done--are great helps to
keeping cool and calm. The will also can work miracles. I believe in
the will because I believe that the human will is God's grace. Those
who say, "I cannot" are those who think, "I will not." Besides which
there are heavenly powers that wait to help our infirmities. Paul did
not hesitate to pray for the removal of his physical infirmity, and
the "sufficient grace" that was promised him will be just as freely
given to us. Indeed, I may rest the question here, for this is our
great consolation: one cannot say too much of the Divine help. It will
keep all in perfect peace that trust in it.