All that we have to say in particular upon this subject lies under these two heads: first, that we do not fall into anger; and secondly, that we do not transgress in it. As in the case of our bodies, we have some medicines to preserve us when we are well, and others to recover us when we are sick; so it is one thing not to admit it, and another thing to overcome it. We are, in the first place, to avoid all provocations, and the beginnings of anger: for if we be once down, it is a hard task to get up again. When our passion has got the better of our reason, and the enemy is received into the gate, we cannot expect that the conqueror should take conditions from the prisoner. And, in truth, our reason, when it is thus mastered, turns effectually into passion. A careful education is a great matter; for our minds are easily formed in our youth, but it is a harder business to cure ill habits: beside that, we are inflamed by climate, constitution, company, and a thousand other accidents, that we are not aware of.
Everything we need to say about this topic falls under two main points: first, how to avoid getting angry, and second, how not to go too far when we do get angry. Just like with our bodies, we have some medicines to keep us healthy and others to help us recover when we're sick. It's one thing to prevent anger from starting, and another thing entirely to control it once it begins. First, we should avoid anything that might provoke us and catch anger in its early stages. Once we're knocked down by it, getting back up is extremely difficult. When our emotions overpower our reasoning, and the enemy gets through the gate, we can't expect the winner to negotiate with the prisoner. In fact, when reason is defeated this way, it actually becomes part of the passion itself. A good education matters enormously. Our minds are easily shaped when we're young, but breaking bad habits later is much harder work. Beyond that, we're influenced by our environment, our natural temperament, the people around us, and countless other factors we don't even notice.
The choice of a good nurse, and a well-natured tutor, goes a great way: for the sweetness both of the blood and of the manners will pass into the child. There is nothing breeds anger more than a soft and effeminate education; and it is very seldom seen that either the mother’s or the school-master’s darling ever comes to good. But my young master, when he comes into the world, behaves himself like a choleric coxcomb; for flattery, and a great fortune, nourish touchiness. But it is a nice point so to check the seeds of anger in a child as not to take off his edge, and quench his spirits; whereof a principal care must be taken betwixt license and severity, that he be neither too much emboldened nor depressed. Commendation gives him courage and confidence; but then the danger is, of blowing him up into insolence and wrath: so that when to use the bit, and when the spur, is the main difficulty. Never put him to a necessity of begging anything basely: or if he does, let him go without it. Inure him to a familiarity where he has any emulation; and in all his exercises let him understand that it is generous to overcome his competitor, but not to hurt him. Allow him to be pleased when he does well, but not transported; for that will puff him up into too high a conceit of himself. Give him nothing that he cries for till the dogged fit is over, but then let him have it when he is quiet; to show him that there is nothing to be gotten by being peevish. Chide him for whatever he does amiss, and make him betimes acquainted with the fortune that he was born to. Let his diet be cleanly, but sparing; and clothe him like the rest of his fellows: for by placing him upon that equality at first, he will be the less proud afterward: and, consequently the less waspish and quarrelsome.
Choosing a good nurse and a kind tutor makes a huge difference. Both sweetness of character and good manners will pass to the child. Nothing creates anger more than a soft, pampered upbringing. You rarely see a mother's favorite or teacher's pet turn out well. But when my young master enters society, he acts like an arrogant hothead. Flattery and great wealth feed his touchiness. The tricky part is controlling a child's anger without crushing his spirit or dampening his energy. You must find the right balance between freedom and discipline. He shouldn't be too bold or too beaten down. Praise gives him courage and confidence, but the danger is inflating his ego into arrogance and rage. Knowing when to hold him back and when to encourage him is the main challenge. Never force him to beg for anything in a degrading way. If he does, let him go without it. Get him used to being around others where he can compete. In all his activities, teach him that it's noble to beat his opponent, but not to harm him. Let him feel pleased when he does well, but not carried away. That will puff him up with too high an opinion of himself. Give him nothing that he cries for until his tantrum is over. Then let him have it when he's calm. This shows him that being difficult gets him nowhere. Scold him for whatever he does wrong, and make him understand early on what fortune he was born into. Keep his food clean but simple. Dress him like his peers. By treating him as an equal at first, he'll be less proud later. As a result, he'll be less irritable and quarrelsome.
In the next place, let us have a care of temptations that we cannot resist, and provocations that we cannot bear; and especially of sour and exceptious company: for a cross humor is contagious. Nor is it all that a man shall be the better for the example of a quiet conversation; but an angry disposition is troublesome, because it has nothing else to work upon. We should therefore choose a sincere, easy, and temperate companion, that will neither provoke anger nor return it; nor give a man any occasion of exercising his distempers. Nor is it enough to be gentle, submissive, and humane, without integrity and plain-dealing; for flattery is as offensive on the other side. Some men would take a curse from you better than a compliment. Cælius, a passionate orator, had a friend of singular patience that supped with him, who had no way to avoid a quarrel but by saying amen to all that Cælius said. Cælius, taking this ill: “Say something against me,” says he, “that you and I may be two;” and he was angry with him because he would not: but the dispute fell, as it needs must, for want of an opponent.
Next, we need to be careful about temptations we can't resist and situations that provoke us beyond our limits. We should especially avoid bitter and fault-finding people, because a sour mood spreads like a disease. It's not just that we benefit from being around calm people. An angry person is troublesome because they have nothing else to focus their energy on. We should choose companions who are honest, easygoing, and moderate. They won't provoke anger or return it, and they won't give us any reason to lose our temper. But it's not enough for someone to be gentle, submissive, and kind without also being honest and straightforward. Flattery is just as offensive in the opposite direction. Some people would rather you curse them than compliment them. Cælius, a passionate orator, had a remarkably patient friend who often ate dinner with him. This friend had no way to avoid arguments except by agreeing with everything Cælius said. Cælius didn't like this approach. "Say something against me," he told his friend, "so that we can be two separate people." He was angry because his friend wouldn't argue with him. But the dispute died out, as it had to, for lack of an opponent.
He that is naturally addicted to anger, let him use a moderate diet, and abstain from wine; for it is but adding fire to fire. Gentle exercises, recreations, and sports, temper and sweeten the mind. Let him have a care also of long and obstinate disputes; for it is easier not to begin them than to put an end to them. Severe studies are not good for him either, as law, mathematics; too much attention preys upon the spirits, and makes him eager: but poetry, history and those lighter entertainments, may serve him for diversion and relief. He that would be quiet, must not venture at things out of his reach, or beyond his strength; for he shall either stagger under the burden, or discharge it upon the next man he meets; which is the same case in civil and domestic affairs. Business that is ready and practicable goes off with ease; but when it is too heavy for the bearer, they fall both together. Whatsoever we design, we should first take a measure of ourselves, and compare our force with the undertaking; for it vexes a man not to go through with his work: a repulse inflames a generous nature, as it makes one that is phlegmatic, sad. I have known some that have advised looking in a glass when a man is in the fit, and the very spectacle of his own deformity has cured him. Many that are troublesome in their drink, and know their own infirmity, give their servant order beforehand to take them away by force for fear of mischief, and not to obey their masters themselves when they are hot-headed. If the thing were duly considered we should need no other cure than the bare consideration of it. We are not angry at madmen, children, and fools, because they do not know what they do: and why should not imprudence have an equal privilege in other cases? If a horse kick, or a dog bite, shall a man kick or bite again? The one, it is true, is wholly void of reason, but it is also an equivalent darkness of mind that possesses the other. So long as we are among men, let us cherish humanity, and so live that no man may be either in fear or in danger of us. Losses, injuries, reproaches, calumnies, they are but short inconveniences, and we should bear them with resolution. Beside that, some people are above our anger, others below it. To contend with our superiors were a folly, and with our inferiors an indignity.
If you're naturally prone to anger, eat moderately and avoid wine. Adding wine to anger is like adding fire to fire. Gentle exercise, recreation, and sports help calm and sweeten the mind. Also avoid long, stubborn arguments. It's easier not to start them than to end them. Severe studies like law or mathematics aren't good for you either. Too much intense focus wears down your spirit and makes you more eager to fight. Instead, try poetry, history, and lighter entertainment for diversion and relief. If you want peace, don't attempt things beyond your reach or strength. You'll either collapse under the burden or dump it on the next person you meet. The same applies to business and domestic affairs. Work that's manageable goes smoothly. When it's too heavy for the person carrying it, both the work and the person fall together. Whatever we plan, we should first measure ourselves and compare our strength to the task. It's frustrating not to finish what you start. Failure inflames a proud nature, just as it saddens a calm one. I've known people who advised looking in a mirror during a fit of anger. The sight of their own distorted face cured them. Many who become troublesome when drinking know their weakness. They order their servants beforehand to remove them by force to prevent trouble, and not to obey their masters when they're hot-headed. If we truly considered anger, we'd need no other cure than simply thinking about it. We don't get angry at madmen, children, and fools because they don't know what they're doing. Why shouldn't foolishness have the same excuse in other cases? If a horse kicks or a dog bites, should a person kick or bite back? The animal lacks reason completely, but the same darkness of mind possesses the angry person. As long as we live among people, let's cherish humanity and live so that no one fears us or is in danger from us. Losses, injuries, insults, and slander are just brief inconveniences. We should bear them with resolve. Besides, some people are above our anger, others below it. Fighting with our superiors would be foolish, and with our inferiors would be undignified.
There is hardly a more effectual remedy against anger than patience and consideration. Let but the first fervor abate, and that mist which darkens the mind will be either lessened or dispelled; a day, nay, an hour, does much in the most violent cases, and perchance totally suppresses it; time discovers the truth of things, and turns that into judgment which at first was anger. Plato was about to strike his servant, and while his hand was in the air, he checked himself, but still held it in that menacing posture. A friend of his took notice of it, and asked him what he meant? “I am now,” says Plato, “punishing of an angry man;” so that he had left his servant to chastise himself. Another time his servant having committed a great fault: “Speusippus,” says he, “do you beat that fellow, for I am angry,” so that he forebore striking him for the very reason that would have made another man have done it. “I am angry,” says he, “and shall go further than becomes me.” Nor is it fit that a servant should be in his power that is not his own master. Why should any one venture now to trust an angry man with a revenge, when Plato durst not trust himself? Either he must govern that, or that will undo him. Let us do our best to overcome it, but let us, however, keep it close, without giving it any vent. An angry man, if he gives himself liberty at all times, will go too far. If it comes once to show itself in the eye or countenance, it has got the better of us. Nay, we should so oppose it as to put on the very contrary dispositions; calm looks, soft and slow speech, an easy and deliberate march, and by little and little, we may possibly bring our thoughts into sober conformity with our actions. When Socrates was angry, he would take himself in it, and speak low, in opposition to the motions of his displeasure. His friends would take notice of it; and it was not to his disadvantage neither, but rather to his credit, that so many should know that he was angry, and nobody feel it; which could not have been, if he had not given his friends the same liberty of admonition which he himself took. And this course should we take; we should desire our friends not to flatter us in our follies, but to treat us with all liberties of reprehension, even when we are least willing to bear it, against so powerful and so insinuating an evil; we should call for help while we have our eyes in our head, and are yet masters of ourselves. Moderation is profitable for subjects, but more for princes, who have the means of executing all that their anger prompts them to. When that power comes once to be exercised to a common mischief, it can never long continue; a common fear joining in one cause all their divided complaints. In a word now, how we may prevent, moderate, or master this impotent passion in others.
There is hardly a better remedy for anger than patience and careful thought. Just let that first burst of rage cool down, and the fog clouding your mind will clear or disappear entirely. A day, or even just an hour, can do wonders in the most violent cases and might completely calm you down. Time reveals the truth of things and turns what started as anger into sound judgment. Plato was about to strike his servant. His hand was raised in the air when he stopped himself, but he kept it there in that threatening position. A friend noticed and asked what he was doing. "I am now punishing an angry man," Plato said, meaning he had left his servant alone to discipline himself instead. Another time his servant made a serious mistake. "Speusippus," he said, "you beat that fellow, because I am angry." He refused to strike the servant for the very reason that would have made another man do it. "I am angry," he explained, "and I will go too far." It's not right for a servant to be at the mercy of someone who can't control himself. Why should anyone trust an angry man with revenge when Plato didn't even trust himself? Either we must control our anger, or it will destroy us. Let's do our best to overcome it, but let's keep it hidden without giving it any outlet. An angry person who gives himself complete freedom will always go too far. Once anger shows in the eyes or face, it has beaten us. We should fight it by putting on the opposite behavior: calm looks, soft and slow speech, an easy and deliberate walk. Little by little, we might bring our thoughts into line with our actions. When Socrates got angry, he would catch himself and speak quietly, fighting against his displeasure. His friends would notice. It wasn't to his disadvantage that so many people knew he was angry but nobody felt it. This could only happen because he gave his friends the same freedom to correct him that he took for himself. This is the approach we should take. We should ask our friends not to flatter us in our foolishness, but to speak freely and criticize us, even when we least want to hear it. We need this against such a powerful and sneaky evil. We should call for help while we still have our wits about us and can control ourselves. Moderation helps subjects, but it helps rulers even more, since they have the power to act on whatever their anger tells them to do. Once that power gets used for widespread harm, it can never last long. Common fear will unite all their scattered complaints into one cause. In short, here's how we can prevent, moderate, or master this weak passion in others.
It is not enough to be sound ourselves, unless we endeavor to make others so, wherein we must accommodate the remedy to the temper of the patient. Some are to be dealt with by artifice and address: as, for example, “Why will you gratify your enemies to show yourself so much concerned? It is not worth your anger: it is below you: I am as much troubled at it myself as you can be; but you had better say nothing, and take your time to be even with them.” Anger in some people is to be openly opposed; in others, there must be a little yielding, according to the disposition of the person. Some are won by entreaties, others are gained by mere shame and conviction, and some by delay; a dull way of cure for a violent distemper, but this must be the last experiment. Other affections may be better dealt with at leisure; for they proceed gradually: but this commences and perfects itself in the same moment. It does not, like other passions, solicit and mislead us, but it runs away with us by force, and hurries us on with an irresistible temerity, as well to our own as to another’s ruin: not only flying in the face of him that provokes us, but like a torrent, bearing down all before it. There is no encountering the first heat and fury of it: for it is deaf and mad, the best way is (in the beginning) to give it time and rest, and let it spend itself: while the passion is too hot to handle, we may deceive it; but, however, let all instruments of revenge be put out of the way. It is not amiss sometimes to pretend to be angry too; and join with him, not only in the opinion of the injury, but in the seeming contrivance of a revenge. But this must be a person then that has some authority over him. This is a way to get time, and, by advising upon some greater punishment to delay the present. If the passion be outrageous, try what shame or fear can do. If weak, it is no hard matter to amuse it by strange stories, grateful news, or pleasant discourses. Deceit, in this case, is friendship; for men must be cozened to be cured.
It's not enough to be calm ourselves. We must also try to help others stay calm. We need to match our approach to each person's personality. Some people need to be handled with skill and tact. For example, you might say: "Why give your enemies the satisfaction of seeing you so upset? It's not worth your anger. It's beneath you. I'm just as troubled by this as you are, but you'd be better off saying nothing and waiting for the right time to get even." Some people's anger should be confronted directly. With others, you need to give in a little, depending on their personality. Some people respond to pleading, others to shame and reason, and some need time to cool down. This last approach is slow medicine for such a violent condition, but sometimes it's the only option left. Other emotions can be handled more leisurely since they develop gradually. But anger starts and reaches its peak in the same instant. Unlike other passions that tempt and mislead us, anger carries us away by force. It rushes us forward with unstoppable recklessness, leading to our own ruin as well as others'. It doesn't just attack whoever provokes us. Like a flood, it sweeps away everything in its path. There's no fighting the first wave of fury. Anger is deaf and mad. The best approach at the beginning is to give it time and space to burn itself out. While the passion is too hot to handle, we can try to trick it. But first, put all weapons of revenge out of reach. Sometimes it helps to pretend to be angry too. Join with the person, not only agreeing about the injury but seeming to plan revenge together. But this only works if you have some authority over them. This buys you time. By suggesting some greater punishment, you can delay immediate action. If the anger is extreme, try using shame or fear. If it's weak, you can easily distract it with strange stories, good news, or pleasant conversation. In this case, deception is friendship. Sometimes people must be tricked to be healed.
The injuries that press hardest upon us are those which either we have not deserved, or not expected, or, at least, not in so high a degree. This arises from the love of ourselves: for every man takes upon him, like a prince, in this case, to practice all liberties, and to allow none, which proceeds either from ignorance or insolence. What news is it for people to do ill things? for an enemy to hurt us; nay, for a friend or a servant to transgress, and to prove treacherous, ungrateful, covetous, impious? What we find in one man we may in another, and there is more security in fortune than in men. Our joys are mingled with fear, and a tempest may arise out of a calm; but a skilful pilot is always provided for it.
The injuries that hurt us most are those we didn't deserve, didn't expect, or at least didn't expect to be so severe. This comes from our self-love. Every person acts like a prince in this situation, taking all liberties for themselves while allowing none to others. This behavior comes from either ignorance or arrogance. Is it really news when people do bad things? When an enemy hurts us? Even when a friend or servant betrays us and proves treacherous, ungrateful, greedy, or wicked? What we find in one person, we can find in another. There's more security in fortune than in people. Our joys are mixed with fear, and a storm can rise from calm waters. But a skilled pilot is always prepared for it.