THERE is considerable ground for thinking that the opinion very
generally prevails that the temper is something beyond the power of
regulation, control, or government. A good temper, too, if we may judge
from the usual excuses for the want of it, is hardly regarded in the
light of an attainable quality. To be slow in taking offence, and
moderate in the expression of resentment, in which things good temper
consists, seems to be generally reckoned rather among the gifts of
nature, the privileges of a happy constitution, than among the possible
results of careful self-discipline. When we have been fretted by some
petty grievance, or, hurried by some reasonable cause of offence into
a degree of anger far beyond what the occasion required, our subsequent
regret is seldom of a kind for which we are likely to be much better. We
bewail ourselves for a misfortune, rather than condemn ourselves for
a fault. We speak of our unhappy temper as if it were something that
entirely removed the blame from us, and threw it all upon the peculiar
and unavoidable sensitiveness of our frame. A peevish and irritable
temper is, indeed, an _unhappy_ one; a source of misery to ourselves and
to others; but it is not, in _all_ cases, so valid an excuse for being
easily provoked, as it is usually supposed to be.
A good temper is too important a source of happiness, and an ill temper
too important a source of misery, to be treated with indifference or
hopelessness. The false excuses or modes of regarding this matter, to
which we have referred, should be exposed; for until their invalidity
and incorrectness are exposed, no efforts, or but feeble ones, will be
put forth to regulate an ill temper, or to cultivate a good one.
We allow that there are great differences of natural constitution. One
who is endowed with a poetical temperament, or a keen sense of beauty,
or a great love of order, or very large ideality, will be pained by the
want or the opposites of these qualities, where one less amply endowed
would suffer no provocation whatever. What would grate most harshly on
the ear of an eminent musician, might not be noticed at all by one whose
musical faculties were unusually small. The same holds true in regard
to some other, besides musical deficiencies or discords. A delicate and
sickly frame will feel annoyed by what would not at all disturb the same
frame in a state of vigorous health. Particular circumstances, also, may
expose some to greater trials and vexations than others. But, after all
this is granted, the only reasonable conclusion seems to be, that the
attempt to govern the temper is more difficult in some cases than
in others; not that it is, in any case, impossible. It is, at least,
certain that an opinion of its impossibility is an effectual bar against
entering upon it. On the other hand, “believe that you will succeed,
and you will succeed,” is a maxim which has nowhere been more frequently
verified than in the moral world. It should be among the first maxims
admitted, and the last abandoned, by every earnest seeker of his own
moral improvement.
Then, too, facts demonstrate that much has been done and can be done in
regulating the worst of tempers. The most irritable or peevish temper
has been restrained by company; has been subdued by interest; has been
awed by fear; has been softened by grief; has been soothed by kindness.
A bad temper has shown itself, in the same individuals, capable of
increase, liable to change, accessible to motives. Such facts are enough
to encourage, in every case, an attempt to govern the temper. All the
miseries of a bad temper, and all the blessings of a good one, may be
attained by an habitual tolerance, concern, and kindness for others--by
an habitual restraint of considerations and feelings entirely selfish.
To those of our readers who feel moved or resolved by the considerations
we have named to attempt to regulate their temper, or to cultivate one
of a higher order of excellence, we would submit a few suggestions which
may assist them in their somewhat difficult undertaking.
See, first of all, that you set as high a value on the comfort of those
with whom you have to do as you do on your own. If you regard your own
comfort _exclusively_, you will not make the allowances which a _proper_
regard to the happiness of others would lead you to do.
Avoid, particularly in your intercourse with those to whom it is of
most consequence that your temper should be gentle and forbearing--avoid
raising into undue importance the little failings which you may perceive
in them, or the trifling disappointments which they may occasion you.
If we make it a subject of vexation, that the beings among whom we tire
destined to live, are not perfect, we must give up all hope of attaining
a temper not easily provoked. A habit of trying everything by the
standard of perfection vitiates the temper more than it improves the
understanding, and disposes the mind to discern faults with an unhappy
penetration. I would not have you shut your eyes to the errors or
follies, or thoughtlessnesses of your friends, but only not to magnify
them or view them microscopically. Regard them in others as you
would have them regard the same things in you, in an exchange of
circumstances.
Do not forget to make due allowances for the original constitution and
the manner of education or bringing up, which has been the lot of
those with whom you have to do. Make such excuses for Others as the
circumstances of their constitution, rearing, and youthful associations,
do fairly demand.
Always put the best construction on the motives of others, when their
conduct admits of more than one way of understanding it. In many cases,
where neglect or ill intention seems evident at first sight, it may
prove true that “second thoughts are best.” Indeed, this common slaying
is never more likely to prove true than in cases in which the _first_
thoughts were the dictates of anger And even when the first thoughts
are confirmed by further evidence, yet the habit of always waiting for
complete evidence before we condemn, must have a calming; and moderating
effect upon the temper, while it will take nothing from the authority of
our just censures.
It will further, be a great help to our efforts, as well as our
desires, for the government of the temper, if we consider frequently and
seriously the natural consequences of hasty resentments, angry replies,
rebukes impatiently given or impatiently received, muttered discontents,
sullen looks, and harsh words. It may safely be asserted that the
consequences of these and other ways in which ill-temper may show
itself, are _entirely_ evil. The feelings, which accompany them in
ourselves, and those which they excite in others, are unprofitable as
well as painful. They lessen our own comfort, and tend often rather
to prevent than to promote the improvement of those with whom we find
fault. If we give even friendly and judicious counsels in a harsh and
pettish tone, we excite against _them_ the repugnance naturally felt to
_our manner_. The consequence is, that the advice is slighted, and the
peevish adviser pitied, despised, or hated.
When we cannot succeed in putting a restraint on our _feelings_ of anger
or dissatisfaction, we can at least check the _expression_ of those
feelings. If our thoughts are not always in our power, our words and
actions and looks may be brought under our command; and a command over
these expressions of our thoughts and feelings will be found no mean
help towards obtaining an increase of power over our thoughts and
feelings themselves. At least, one great good will be effected: time
will be gained; time for reflection; time for charitable allowances and
excuses.
Lastly, seek the help of religion. Consider how you may most certainly
secure the approbation of God. For a good temper, or a well-regulated
temper, _may be_ the constant homage of a truly religious man to that
God, whose love and long-suffering forbearance surpass all human love
and forbearance.