A Sign of What's Inside
By Henry Drummond

      "For the wrath of man worketh not the righteousness of God"

      (James 1:20).

      Only temper," they call it: a little hot-headedness, a momentary ruffling of the surface, a mere passing cloud. But here the passing cloud is composed of drops, and the drops betoken an ocean, foul and rancorous, seething somewhere within the life--an ocean made up of jealousy, anger, pride, uncharity, cruelty self-righteousness, sulkiness, touchiness, doggedness, lashed into a raging storm.

      This is why temper is significant. It is not in what it is that its significance lies, but in what it reveals. But for this it were not worth notice. It is the intermittent fever which tells of unintermittent disease; the occasional bubble escaping to the surface, betraying the rottenness underneath; a hastily prepared specimen of the hidden products of the soul, dropped involuntarily when you are off your guard. In one word, it is the lightning-form of a dozen hideous and unchristian sins.