Faith Can Tame Inordinate Speech

["Even so the tongue is a little member, and boasteth great things. Behold, how great a matter a little fire kindleth! And the tongue is a fire, a world of iniquity: so is the tongue among our members, that it defileth the whole body, and setteth on fire the course of nature; and it is set on fire of hell." — James 3:5, 6 KJV.]

Many things, which are good in themselves, become evil in their excess. This is especially true of the faculty of speech, one of the most valuable gifts, which our heavenly Father has seen fit to impart to us. The tongue, which is described by an inspired Apostle as an “unruly member,” is ever in action; but not always in profitable action. Statements are made thoughtlessly and often maliciously; which, if they are susceptible of increase in the first instance, are magnified by repetition. Thus the first exaggerated statement soon becomes positive falsehood. And the falsehood, which at first was modest and mitigated in its manner, becomes bold, noisy, and intense.

Inward Quietness as a Spiritual Test

In the Christian grace [of inward quietness] which we have been considering, we find one of the most decisive and most satisfactory tests of religious character.

True religion is a thing, not fragmentary but continuous, not coming and going at separated and distant intervals, but existing always, moment by moment. It is obvious, therefore, that we need a test of religious character which is perpetual; one which is a permanent, ever living, and ever present expression of what exists within. Quietness of spirit, which shows itself so distinctly in the countenance and the outward manner, and which adjusts itself in all its acts so beautifully to the relations and the reciprocal duties of man with man, furnishes this test.

Quietness and Prayer

Quietness of spirit is especially favorable, and to some extent it is indispensable to a state of prayer. 

Prayer is not a demand, but a request, a petition; it is essential, therefore, to its very nature, that it should recognize the divine supremacy. He, who prays aright, always and necessarily says, THY WILL BE DONE. Who would presume to approach the throne of God, and to offer up his requests there, without feeling and without expressing the feeling, that God’s will should rule? And yet it is very obvious, that the man, who is discontented and rebellious in spirit, just so far as he is so, fails in this important and indispensable feeling. 

When people lament, as they often do and as they often have occasion to do, that their prayers are so inefficacious, would it not be well for them to inquire whether they have that resigned, peaceable, and acquiescent spirit in view of God’s character and dealings, which is so indispensable to the state of acceptable prayer? Some persons, who creditably sustain their claims to the character of Christians in many respects, fail here. They are willing to speak openly and freely for God on appropriate occasions; they sustain their professions and declarations by their contributions and alms; they would not hesitate a moment to undergo bonds and imprisonments in support of the truth; and at the same time, with an inconsistency almost unaccountable, they often, very often, exhibit a clouded brow and a restless, unquiet temper under those common dispensations, which characterize every day and every hour. The amount of this evil is incalculable. It is here, without looking further, that they may often find the worm in their bud of promise; the secret canker that consumes their flower of hope.

 — from The Life of Faith, Part 2, Chapter 13.

Quietness is Sustained by God's Commands

[The grace of inward quietness] is sustained by faith in God’s commands; that is to say, by a belief, that they are true, that they are reasonable, that they ought to be obeyed, and that they cannot be disobeyed without danger. 

The man of true faith and strong faith feels, that the command, FRET NOT THYSELF, and others like them are as binding upon us, as any other commands which are admitted to be of the most solemn and imperative nature. Immense is the error and the evil, which has arisen from man’s attempting to make distinctions, where they ought not to be made. The sin of an unquiet or fretful spirit is not the same, it is true, with other sins; but the obligation, which attends the command not to indulge in such a sin, is the same. No man can knowingly violate such an obligation, although it relates to a matter which the world is very apt to designate as of small consequence, without showing that his heart is not right with God. 

Wherever God’s command is, no matter how small the thing is to which the command relates, obedience must follow. Otherwise sin lies at the door. The man of faith, deeply realizing this, feels himself bound by that sacred and paramount obligation which God’s command always carries with it, to guard against the least impatience, the least unquietness of spirit. Bound by the command, supported by the promise, with his heart filled with love, and added to all this, meeting God as it were face to face in his providences, he understands the import of those delightful expressions; “They, that trust in the Lord, shall be as mount Zion, which cannot be removed, but abideth forever. As the mountains are round about Jerusalem, so the Lord is round about his people from henceforth, even forever.” Psalm 125:1, 2.

— from The Life of Faith, Part 2, Chapter 13

Quietness Disturbed: Quietness in Semblance

Quietness of spirit is sometimes disturbed by our desires and efforts to do good. The danger from this source is undoubtedly less imminent than that from some other sources. It is true, however, that it really exists. Truly pious persons sometimes defeat their own object and do considerable injury by permitting the suggestions of grace to be controlled by the unbelieving zeal of nature, instead of being chastened and regulated by the oversight of grace added to grace. 

We admit that from time to time we meet with something, which looks like quietness of spirit, with something which is a semblance of it; which, nevertheless, has no foundation in the true and sanctified adjustment of the inward state. The inactivity of nature, to which we have reference in making this remark, is a very different thing, both in its origin and its manifestations, from the calm rest of grace. 

Natural quietude is the result of darkness; spiritual quietude is the child of light. The one does nothing, because it is too indolent and too selfish to do any thing, and its rest, therefore, bears the fatal mark of being a rest in its own will. The other, which does nothing in its own choice, does all things in God’s will, so that its rest is in God and not in itself. The one is the rest of a man, who, unconscious of his danger, is walking blindfolded on the brink of a precipice. The other is the conscious rest of a glorified spirit, who walks in peace, and with open vision, on the golden pavements of the New Jerusalem.

— from The Life of Faith, Part 2, Chapter 13.

Inward Quietness & Outward Trials

It is hardly necessary to speak of the results of quietness of spirit, in relation to the various outward trials, to which all persons are subject in the present life. The very term itself implies, that these trials shall be met, not only without a murmur, but with entire acquiescence and even cheerfulness. “Fret not thyself,” says the Scripture, “because of evil doers.” 

If moral evils exist in the world to a very great extent, as they obviously do, if sin abounds in various forms, oftentimes undisguised and shameless in its affrontery, if Christians are less decided and less watchful against it than they ought to be, it will still remain true, both now and in all time to come, that this state of things, trying as it is to a truly devout heart, will be more likely to be corrected by the efforts of a meek and resigned, than by those of a fretful and rebellious state of soul. The person of a meek spirit understands this; and he cannot allow the sins, which he witnesses, to produce in his own mind a state of feeling, which would be prejudicial to himself without being beneficial to others.

Inward Quietness & Harmony

The state of mind, which is described as meekness or quietness of spirit, is characterized, in a very high degree, by inward harmony. When the judgment is rendered clear by religious influences, when the appetites are subdued, when the various propensities and affections, once rebellious and conflicting, are each and all in their place, operating where they ought to operate and not operating where they ought not to operate, the mind not only presents the aspect of rest or quietness but is obviously in harmony with itself; without which, indeed, the state of rest could not exist. The love of God is restored to its position, as the supreme, the controlling principle; and every natural desire and affection is exercised in subordination to it. There is not that inward jarring, which had formerly existed, thought in conflict with thought, passion contending with passion, and conscience asserting rights which it could not maintain. 

“Disorderly passions,” says Mr. Henry in his interesting Discourse on Meekness and Quietness of Spirit, “are like stormy winds in the soul; they toss and hurry it, and often strand or overset it. They move it, ‘as the trees of the wood are moved with the wind;’ it is the Prophet’s comparison, and is an apt emblem of a man in passion. Now MEEKNESS restrains these winds, says to them, PEACE, BE STILL, and so preserves a calm in the soul and makes it conformable to Him, who has the winds in his hand, and is herein to be praised, that even the stormy winds fulfil his word.” [A Discourse on Meekness and Quietness of Spirit, by Rev. Matthew Henry (1662-1714), New York Ed. p. 34.]

— from The Life of Faith, Part 2, Chapter 13.

Faith Repels Contrary Suggestions

Faith implies the previous existence, in a greater or less degree, of perception and human reasoning. And such being the circumstances of its origin, it may properly be regarded as a principle or state of mind, entirely suitable to a reflecting and rational nature. But it ought to be remarked further, that, when faith, for its appropriate and adequate reasons, has attached itself to its appropriate objects, it does not allow itself to be driven from its position by any adverse suggestions, even when such suggestions are sustained by the imposing authority of thought and of deduction. This is particularly true of religious faith.

Quietness and Right Action

Quietness of spirit, originating in the operations of divine grace, is the sign of truth or rectitude of spirit, and also of a right course of action. And, on the other hand, a spirit disturbed, a spirit in a state of agitation, is the sign of a wrong done, or of a wrong proposed to be done. Accordingly, in any proposed course of action, if it cannot be entered upon with entire quietness of spirit, with a soul so entirely calm, that, in its measure, it may be said to reflect unbrokenly the image of God, then the probability is that the course proposed to be taken is wrong, or, at least, of a doubtful character; and our true and safe course is to delay, until we can obtain further light in regard to it.

This view is founded upon the relation existing between quietness of spirit and faith. And it seems to us to harmonize with the remark of the apostle, that “whatsoever is not of faith is sin."  Rom. 14:23.

WHEN  FROM THE HEART ITS ILLS ARE DRIVEN.

When from the heart its ills are driven,

And God, restored, resumes control,

The outward life becomes a heaven,

As bright as that within the soul.

Where once was pride and stern disdain,

And acts expressing fierce desire,

The eye, that closest looks, in vain

Shall seek the trace of nature's file.

No flame of earth, no passion now,

Has left its scorching mark behind;

But lip, and cheek, and radiant brow,

Reflect the brightness of the mind.

For where should be the signs of sin,

When sin itself has left the breast;

When God alone is Lord within,

And perfect faith gives perfect rest?

— edited from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 8, Chapter 11.

Meekness of Spirit

"Blessed are  the  meek; for they  shall inherit the  earth Blessed are  the  peace makers; for they  shall  be called the  children  of  God." Mat. v. 5, 9.

WHEN there are clouds and tempests in the mind,
And peace and mercy are by wrath displaced,
It breaks the plan of love which heaven designed,
And turns the blooming garden to a waste.
Then keep thy soul in peace and quietness,
And strive each evil passion to restrain,
And God will smile upon thee, and will bless,
And his bright image  in thy breast maintain.
He, who did bow his blessed head in woe,
The Savior of the meek and lowly heart,
Did he not pray for those who struck the blow,
And bless the ruffian hand that aimed the dart?
Oh, be like Him, calm, patient, self-controlled,
He, who can rule himself, has richer wealth than gold.

— American Cottage Life (1850) X.