On the Control of Anger (11-12)

FUNDANUS. But however true it is that all the passions have need of a process of habituation, which tames as it were and subdues by rigorous training the irrational and obstinate element of the soul, there is no passion that we can better learn to control by practising on servants than temper. For no envy or fear or rivalry enters into our relations with them, but frequent fits of anger bring about many conflicts and errors, and because of the absolute power we possess, there being no one to oppose or prevent us, these cause us to slide and fall, since we are, as it were, on slippery ground. For it is impossible that irresponsible power under the influence of passion should be free from error, unless he who wields this power shall encompass it with a bulwark of gentleness, and shall hold out against many pleas of wife and friends, all charging him with laxity and easy-going ways. By such charges I myself used to be very greatly exasperated against my slaves, in the conviction that they were being ruined by not being punished. At long last, however, though late it was, I came to perceive that, in the first place, it is better to make them worse by forbearance than by harshness and anger to pervert my own self for the correction of the others. In the second place, when I observed that many, just because they were not being punished, were often ashamed to be bad, and made pardon, rather than correction, the starting-point of reformation, and, I swear, performed their duties more zealously for the kind of master who gave orders silently with a nod than for the others who used blows and branding-irons, I began to be convinced that reason is more fit than anger to govern. For it is not as the Poet[*] has said,

Where fear is, there is also reverence;

but, on the contrary, in those who revere there is engendered the kind of fear that corrects behaviour, whereas continual and unmerciful beating produces, not repentance for wrongdoing, but rather the farsighted cunning to do wrong without detection. In the third place, I always keep in mind and reflect in privacy that he who taught us the use of the bow did not forbid us to shoot, but only to miss the mark,[*] and that the infliction of punishment will not be hindered by our teaching how to inflict it at the right time,[*] with moderation, and in a useful and suitable manner; and, remembering these things, I try to get rid of my anger, if possible, by not depriving those who are to be punished of the right to speak in their defence, but by listening to their plea. For both the passage of time gives a pause to passion and a delay which dissolves it, and also the judgement discovers a suitable manner of punishment and an adequate amount; furthermore, the man who suffers punishment has no pretext left for opposing the correction if punishment is inflicted, not in anger, but after the accused has been proved guilty; and finally, the most shameful thing is avoided-that the slave should seem to be making a juster plea than his master.

FUNDANUS. And so, just as Phocion[*] after Alexander’s death, trying to keep the Athenians from revolting prematurely or believing the report too quickly, said to them, If, men of Athens, he is dead to-day, he will be dead to-morrow also, and the day after; in like manner, I think, the man who, urged on by anger, is in a hurry for vengeance, should suggest to himself, If this person is guilty of wronging you to-day, he will still be guilty to-morrow also, and the day after; no harm will be done if he shall be punished somewhat late, but if he is punished in haste he will always be thought to have suffered without offending; and this has happened many times in the past. For which of us is so harsh that he scourges and chastises a slave because five or ten days ago he overroasted the meat or upset the table or carne too slowly at our bidding? And yet these are the very things which cause us to be excited and in a cruel and implacable mood at the moment they happen and are still fresh in our memory. For as the shapes of persons seen through a fog, so things seen through a mist of rage appear greater than they are.

FUNDANUS. These are the reasons why we should immediately call to mind such instances and precepts; and when we are free from all suspicion of passion, if the offence still appears evil to the clear and settled judgement, we should attend to it then and not dismiss or abandon the punishment, as we leave food when we have lost our appetite. And nothing is so much the cause of our punishing in a rage as that, when our anger is over, we do not punish, but leave things alone. We are very much like lazy oarsmen, who during calm weather lie in port, and later, at the risk of their lives, avail themselves of a wind to go sailing. And so do we condemn reason for remissness and softness in punishment and hasten on to the deed rashly and to our peril when anger, like a gale, is upon us. For while a hungry man indulges in food as nature dictates, yet punishment is indulged in by one who is not hungry or thirsty for it, nor does he need anger as a relish to stimulate him to punish; on the contrary, when he finds himself very far removed from the desire to punish, he brings up reason to reinforce him and punishes under compulsion. Aristotle[*] relates that in Etruria in his day slaves were scourged to the music of pipes. But one should not, in that spirit, through a craving for the punishment as for a kind of enjoyment, gorge oneself with it, and rejoice while inflicting chastisement and after inflicting it repent[*] - of these the first is bestial, the second womanish - but without either sorrow or pleasure one should mete out punishment in reason’s own good time, leaving anger no excuse.

FUNDANUS. However this, perhaps, will not appear to be a cure for anger, but a temporary reprieve and prophylactic[*] against those errors which some men commit in anger. And yet, though the swelling of the spleen is but a symptom of fever, reducing it assuages the fever, as Hieronymus says. But when I contemplated the origin of anger itself, I observed that different persons are liable to anger from different causes; yet in the case of practically all of them there is present a belief that they are being despised or neglected.[*] For this reason we should assist those who endeavour to avoid anger, by removing as far as possible the act that rouses wrath from any suspicion of contempt or arrogance and by imputing it to ignorance or necessity or emotion or mischance. So Sophocles[*]:

O king, not even the reason Nature gives

Stays with the unfortunate, but goes astray;

and so likewise Agamemnon[*] ascribes the taking away of Briseis to divine infatuation:

I wish again to make amends, to give

You countless ransom.

Supplication, indeed, is the act of one who does not despise; and when he that has done an injury shows himself humble, he removes all notion of contempt. But the man in a rage should not wait for such humility, but should take to himself the reply of Diogenes[*]: when someone said to him, They are laughing at you, Diogenes, he answered, But I am not laughed down. Just so the angry man should not consider himself despised, but rather despise the man who gave the offence as acting from weakness or rashness, carelessness or illiberality, dotage or childishness. But such a notion must not on any account be entertained toward servants or friends; for our servants presume on our upright character, our friends on our affection, and both disregard us, not as being impotent or ineffectual, but because of our reasonableness or our goodwill. As it is, thinking ourselves despised, we not only treat harshly wife and slaves and friends, but also through rage often fall out with innkeepers and sailors and drunken muleteers; we even rage against dogs that bark at us and asses that jostle us,[*] like the man who wished to beat the assdriver, but when the driver cried out, I am an Athenian, indicated the ass and said, You at any rate are not an Athenian, and fell to beating it with many blows.