Good temper is a sign that the different powers of the soul are working in harmony.—For instance, the atmosphere is well tempered when it is neither too hot nor too cold, neither too dry nor too moist, having neither too much electricity nor too little. Then the weather is called fine. It is a pleasure to live. When the weather is bad, the balance of the elements is broken, and life is disagreeable and unpleasant. The body is well tempered when the nervous system and the blood and the nutritive system all work in due harmony. When these three great constituents of the body are well balanced against each other, the result is health. The body is not well tempered in a student who takes no exercise, and where everything goes to feed the brain; nor in a pugilist in training, where everything goes to feed the muscles. The result is disease. We all know the musical instrument called the harp. All the strings are tuned into perfect harmony. If there is a false note struck, that is a sign to the musician that there is something wrong, and that the instrument needs to be tuned. The discord is a symptom, that some cords are out of order. So, bad temper is a sign that some string in our moral constitution is out of harmony and needs to be tuned.
Good temper can be acquired.—It is the result of culture. There are two things often confounded with it—(a) good nature and (b) good humor. Good nature is something born with us—an easy, contented disposition, and a tendency to take things quietly and pleasantly. We inherit it. There is little merit in possessing it. Good humor is the result of pleasant surroundings and agreeable circumstances. A good-humored man is so when everything goes right; when things go wrong, his good humor departs and bad humor takes its place. But good temper results from training and self-control—keeping constant watch over our passions and feelings, and above all being in constant harmony with God; for he who is at peace with God is at peace with man, and will keep the "even tenor of his way."
There are various signs or forms of ill-temper that may be adverted to.
One form of ill-temper is irritability.—We perhaps know what it is to have a tooth where the nerve is exposed. Everything that touches it sends a thrill of pain through us. Some people get into a moral state corresponding to that. The least thing puts them out, vexes them, throws them into a disagreeable frame of mind. When one gets into that state, he should feel that there is something wrong with him—something is off the balance, some nerve is exposed. He had better look to it and go off to the dentist.
Another form of ill-temper is readiness to find fault.—This is a sure sign of a screw being loose somewhere. An ill-tempered person is always making grievances, imagining himself ill-used, discontented with his position, dissatisfied with his circumstances. He never blames himself for anything wrong; it is always someone else. He is like a workman who is always excusing himself by throwing the blame on his tools; like a bad driver who is always finding fault with his horses.
Some fretful tempers wince at every touch,
You always do too little or too much;
He shakes with cold; you stir the fire and strive
To make a blaze; that's roasting him alive.
Serve him with venison, and he chooses fish;
With sole; that's just the sort he would not wish.
Alas! his efforts double his distress,
He likes yours little, and his own still less.
Thus, always teasing others, always teased,
His only pleasure is—to be displeased.
If we find ourselves getting into this state of mind, it is high time to inquire what is wrong with us.
Another form of ill-temper is passion.—Some people are very subject to this development. They are "gunpowdery," and when a small spark touches them they fly out, and there is a blaze. It is a very unlovely feature of a man's character, and if people in a passion could only see themselves in a glass, their eyes flashing, their brow contracted and their features distorted, they would feel that they have cause to be ashamed of themselves. After having been in what is called "a towering rage," there often comes to a man the feeling expressed in the words, "I have made a great ass of myself." If we have done so, we should resolve never to make ourselves ridiculous again.
Perhaps the worst form of ill-temper is sulkiness.—This is passion not dying out, but continuing to smoulder like the embers of a fire where there is no flame. A sullen disposition is as bad a sign of something being wrong as there could well be. It is like what the doctors call "suppressed gout." The disease has got driven into the system, and has taken so firm a hold that it cannot easily be dislodged. Better a man whose temper bubbles over and is gone, than the man who cherishes it in his bosom and allows, not the sun of one day, but of many days, to go down on his wrath.
A word or two is perhaps necessary, in addition to what has been said, as to the means by which good temper is to be preserved and bad temper avoided.