The discretion of a man deferreth his anger.
Anger
If any vice is often reproved in the Word of God, you may be assured it springs prolific in the life of man. In this book of morals anger is a frequently recurring theme. Anger cannot be cast wholly out of man in the present state. On some occasions we do well to be angry. But the only legitimate anger is a holy emotion directed against an unholy thing. Sin, and not our neighbour, must be its object; zeal for righteousness, and not our own pride, must be its distinguishing character. Although anger be not in its own nature and in all cases sinful, the best practical rule of life is to repress it, as if it were. As usual in these laws of God’s kingdom, suffering springs from the sin, as the plant from the seed. The man of great wrath will suffer, although no human tribunal take cognisance of his case. A man of great wrath is a man of little happiness. The two main elements of happiness are wanting; for he is seldom at peace with his neighbour or himself. There is an ingredient in the retribution still more immediate and direct. The emotion of anger in the mind instantly and violently affects the body in the most vital parts of its organisation. When the spirit in man is agitated by anger it sets the life-blood flowing too fast for the safety of its tender channels. The best practical specific for the treatment of anger against persons is to defer it. Its nature presses for instant vengeance, and the appetite should be starved. “To pass over a transgression” is a man’s “glory.” “Looking unto Jesus” is, after all, the grand specific for anger in both its aspects, as a sin and as a suffering. Its dangerous and tormenting fire, when it is kindled in a human breast, may be extinguished best by letting in upon it the love wherewith He loved us. (W. Arnot, D. D.)
Discretion
This is, strictly speaking, not a moral but an intellectual power. It is simply discernment; discernment and discretion are radically the same words, though east into different forms. Discernment is the ability to distinguish between things. A discreet man is a man who sees what is to his own interest, and acts accordingly. A man’s discretion leads him to discern the men whom he may trust, as distinct from the men whom it is not safe to trust. A man’s discretion is of immense service to him in the conduct of life; and if a man have little or no discretion he comes off very badly: he makes many blunders, sustains many losses, gets into many troubles, which a discreet man entirely escapes. Discretion is the main secret of secular success. But discretion can do some very questionable things. It is great in concealing facts. It is not a very noble property. A man’s discretion nurses many old grudges, watching for the right occasion to pay them off. Discretion has a side of cunning and craft, and links with long-deferred anger and revenge. (Hugh Stowell Brown.)
Anger
If you will always be ready to go off like a loaded gun even by an accident, depend on it you will get into difficulty. (Scientific Illustrations.)
Anger controlled and uncontrolled
Anger is an affection inherent in our nature. It is, therefore, not wrong in itself; it is wrong only when it is directed to wrong objects, or to right objects in a wrong degree of amount and duration. Anger in itself is as holy a passion as love. Indeed, in its legitimate form it is but a development of love. Love indignant with that which is opposed to the cause of right and happiness. Albeit, like every affection of our nature, it is often sadly perverted, it not unfrequently becomes malignant and furious.
I. Controlled. “The discretion of a man deferreth his anger; and it is his glory to pass over a transgression.” The wise man is liable to the passion, and circumstances in his life occur to evoke it. Instead of acting under its impulse, he waits until its fires cool. It is said of Julius Caesar that when provoked he used to repeat the whole Roman alphabet before he suffered himself to speak; and Plato once said to his servant, “I would beat thee but I am angry.” It is noble to see a man holding a calm mastery over the billows of his own passions, bidding them to go so far and no farther. He who governs himself is a true king. We have anger here--
II. Uncontrolled. The text suggests two remarks in relation to uncontrolled anger.
1. It is sometimes terrible. “The king’s wrath is as the roaring of a lion.” It is a lamentable fact that kings have shown less command over their evil tempers than have the ordinary run of mankind. Their temper, it is implied, affects the nation. Their anger terrifies the people like the “roar of a lion”; their favour is as refreshing and blessed as the “dew upon the grass.”
2. It is always self-injurious. “A man of great wrath shall suffer punishment; for if thou deliver him, yet thou must do it again.” Violent passions ever inflict their own punishment upon their unhappy subjects. They injure the body. It sets the blood flowing too quickly for its narrow channels. But it injures the soul in a variety of ways. Well does Pope say, “To be angry is to revenge others’ faults upon ourselves.” Anger is misery. Dr. Arnold, when at Laleham, once lost all patience with a dull scholar, when the pupil looked up in his face, and said, “Why do you speak angrily, sir? Indeed I am doing the best I can.” Years after he used to tell the story to his children, and say, “I never felt so ashamed of myself in my life. That look and that speech I have never forgotten.” (Homilist.)