TEMPER—TEMPERED—TEMPERANCE—A TEMPERANCE OBJECT
LESSON

Here I have a watch-spring in my hands, children. See how strong the steel is, and especially notice how, if I pull out the spring, it flies immediately back again to the same shape that it had before. That is because it is well tempered. Swords have been made whose steel was so well tempered that the sword could be bent into a circle, flying back again, when released, to the original shape.

But here is an alcohol lamp, and I will heat the spring in it, letting it cool again slowly. Now see what has happened. All the temper is gone. When I draw the spring out, it doesn’t fly back again to its first shape. I can twist it, and turn it, and make it take any shape I please. It has become perfectly useless, you see, for a watch-spring, and is now nothing but a piece of old iron.

Have you ever heard people, as well as swords and watch-springs, spoken of as being good tempered or bad tempered? Here is a boy who cannot stand even a frown or a harsh word without flying into a passion, or going off into the sulks. Here is another fellow who, though he may get a little red in the face, and have to bite his lips, yet in a minute, for all the harsh words he has heard, he is just as bright and sunny as he was before. This last boy reminds me of the watch-spring. It isn’t easy—in fact, it is almost impossible—to make him change his shape, or twist him in any way out of his bright and happy temper. The first boy, on the other hand, is like the watch-spring with its good temper all gone. He can be twisted and bent into ugliness by a single mean word or sneering look.

By this time I think you see, children, a little something of what the word “temperance” means. There is a young man—we will call him Sam—who is asked to have a cigar. “Why yes, thank you,” says Sam, “I believe I will”; though he knows that cigars will make him sick, and keep him from doing good work the next day.

But here is Ned, and some one offers him a cigar. “You are very kind,” says Ned, “but I don’t smoke. I find that it isn’t good for me. You may treat me to soda-water, if you want to, though.” Which of these boys was tempered? Which of these boys, that is, was practicing temperance?

Sam, in short, is a great deal like putty. He is ready to receive any impression, and accept any suggestion. Invited to take a drink of wine, he has no thought of refusing, though he is afraid of the wine, and knows just what mischief is in it. Invited to play a game of cards, or go to the theater, or enter bad company, or read a bad book, it is all the same. He has no temper to resist; that is, he is intemperate, and before he is many years older, Sam’s life will be all dented and twisted this way and that, ugly, and weak, and useless.

But Ned, on the other hand, without offending any one, and in a manly, straightforward way, simply keeps his life to the true shape that God marked out for him, refusing to let evil men bend him into their evil courses. And that is what I mean when I say that Ned is temperate.