Temperance Sermon Illustrations

Temperance Sermon Illustrations

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Why Lincoln Refused to Smoke or Drink

One day Abraham Lincoln was riding in a stage coach, as they rode in those days, in company with a Kentucky colonel. After riding a number of miles together the colonel took a bottle of whiskey out of his pocket and said, "Mr. Lincoln, won't you take a drink with me?"

"No, Colonel, thank you," replied Mr. Lincoln, "I never drink whiskey."

They rode along together for a number of miles more, visiting very pleasantly, when the gentleman from Kentucky reached into his pocket and brought out some cigars, saying, "Now, Mr. Lincoln, if you won't take a drink with me, won't you take a smoke with me? For here are some of Kentucky's finest cigars."

"Now, Colonel," said Mr. Lincoln. "you are such a fine, agreeable man to travel with maybe I ought to take a smoke with you. But before I do so. let me tell you a story, an experience I had when a boy."

"My mother called me to her bed one day, when I was about nine years old. She was sick—very sick—and she said to me, `Abet', the doctor tells me that I am not going to get well. I want you to promise me before I go that you will never use whiskey nor tobacco as long as you live.' And I promised my mother I never would. And up to this hour, Colonel, I have kept that promise. Now would you advise me to break that promise to my angel mother and take a smoke with you?"

The Colonel put his hand on Mr. Lincoln's shoulder and said with a voice trembling with emotion: "No, Mr. Lincoln, I wouldn't have you do it for the world. It was one of the best promises you ever made. I would give a thousand dollars today if I had made my mother a promise like that and had kept it as you have done."

There is scarcely a man or woman in this country today but what believes that Abraham Lincoln's keeping his promise to his mother helped to make him the great and good and loved man that he was.—The Dry Legion.


The Beer Bottle Had to Go

Ethel Hubler tells about a family—father, mother, son Tommy—being invited to the home of a relative for dinner. On the dining table was a bottle of beer, placed there by the grandfather who thought he had to have "something to pep him up a little." As Tommy, nine years old, was known to regularly ask the blessing at meals, the host called upon him to voice their thanks.

Tommy was on the spot. He had never "said grace" over a beer bottle before, and he was troubled. All bowed their heads, including Tommy, but his lips uttered not a sound. Presently he raised his head, looked earnestly to his mother, and with tears in his eyes, said: "Mom, I just can't ask God to bless us with that beer bottle sittin' there."

One would have thought granddad was only in his teens from the way he quickly jumped up, grabbed the beer bottle, and made for the back door. When he returned Tommy asked the blessing, and the meal was eaten in a regular camp meeting way. "A little child shall lead."—Cumberland Presbyterian.


Clean Blood

Doctor Mayo, late chief of staff of Mayo clinic, one of the best and most widely known and highly respected physicians in the world, stood like a rock for the best things in life, "he dared to be different."

Here follows some of Dr. Mayo's sayings: "The majority of doctors and pharmacologists agree that alcohol is not a stimulant but a habit-forming narcotic poison in the same class with morphine. codeine, heroin, etc. Three drinkers out of ten become addicts. We doctors," he said, "must begin to promote temperance."

Dr. Mayo once asked a very prominent brewer why brewers did not find one-half per cent alcohol or "near beer" profitable. The brewer answered, "There is not enough alcohol in 'near beer' to produce the thirst that would lead people to drink more. It takes two per cent to three per cent alcoholic content to do that." Alcohol in the blood slows down the white corpuscles which are the body "policemen," making a person more susceptible to disease.

Good clean, clear, healthy blood safeguards humanity in a good many ways. Good clean healthy blood (no alcohol) would mean a lot less accidents, less money wasted. Any item which drains money from a community drains everyone's pocketbook.—Mary Kimberly in The United Evangelical.


The One He Wanted

A businessman once wanted somebody to fill a most important position, ono of great responsibility, so he advertised and got a large number of applications. From these he picked twenty men, and asked them to be at a certain place on a certain day. On that day he went and found the twenty men there. "Well, men," he said, "before we get on with the business, I think we may as well have a little drink. Come on," and he set off toward a licensed hotel nearby. The men quickly followed, all except one who lagged behind. "Hi hurry up ! Aren't you coming for a drink?" the employer shouted. "No thanks," said the man, "I'm a total abstainer." "Good for you," said the employer, "you're the man I want for this job!" and he turned and left the other men all tremendously surprised and disappointed.—Gospel Herald.


When a Fortune Is Bad News

In New York City there is an institution known as "The Stock Market." It is famous as a place where "lambs" are attracted for the "shearing." As I write I have been trying to get a job for a man I know. His father at one time was very well-to-do and had retired with a competency and was a good friend of mine. Then in some way this friend got into Wall Street. One day he said to me, "Bill, do you have any Anaconda Copper Stock?" "No," I replied. "Why?" "Well," he said, "I've just cleaned ap some $250,000 in it." I said to my brother later. "Ellis, I have some bad news concerning our friend Charlie Brown." "What is it?" "He has just cleaned up a quarter of a million in the stock market." "That doesn't sound like bad news to me. Why do you think so?" "Ellis, it will be his first drink of whisky." And it was. Some few months later he said to me, "Bill, I am all wiped out. I do not have a dollar to my name." The "lamb shearers" over in New York had done for him what they had done for thousands of others. My whilom rich friend has died, and here I am trying to find a job for his boy.—Sunday School Times.


Are We Locking up the Wrong Person?

A story is told of a woman who stood near the magistrate who was hearing a case against her husband. Somehow the pathetic face of the woman touched the judge, and he said to her, "I am sorry, but I must lock up your husband." "Your Honor," she returned, "wouldn't it be better for me and the children if you locked up the saloon and let my husband go to work?"—Christian Endeavor World.

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