Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

S. Austin Allibone, comp. Prose Quotations from Socrates to Macaulay. 1880.

Anger

There is no other way but to meditate and ruminate well upon the effects of anger,—how it troubles man’s life; and the best time to do this is to look back upon anger when the fit is thoroughly over. Seneca saith well, “that anger is like rain, which breaks itself upon that it falls.” The Scripture exhorteth us “to possess our souls in patience:” whosoever is out of patience is out of possession of his soul…. Anger is certainly a kind of baseness; as it appears well in the weakness of those subjects in whom it reigns,—children, women, old folks, sick folks. Only men must beware that they carry their anger rather with scorn than with fear; so that they may seem rather to be above the injury than below it; which is a thing easily done, if a man will give law to himself in it…. To contain anger from mischief, though it take hold of a man, there be two things whereof you must have special caution: the one of extreme bitterness of words, especially if they be aculeate and proper; for “communia maledicta” are nothing so much; and again, that in anger a man reveal no secrets; for that makes him not fit for society: the other, that you do not peremptorily break off in any business in a fit of anger; but howsoever you show bitterness, do not act anything that is not revocable.

There is no affectation in passion; for that putteth a man out of his precepts, and in a new case there custom leaveth him.

Choleric and quarrelsome persons will engage one into their quarrels.

He does anger too much honour who calls it madness, which being a distemper of the brain, and a total absence of all reason, is innocent of all the ill effects it may produce, whereas anger is an affected madness, compounded of pride and folly, and an intention to do commonly more mischief than it can bring to pass.

Never do anything that can denote an angry mind; for, although everybody is born with a certain degree of passion, and, from untoward circumstances, will sometimes feel its operation, and be what they call “out of humour,” yet a sensible man or woman will never allow it to be discovered. Check and restrain it; never make any determination until you find it has entirely subsided; and always avoid saying anything that you may wish unsaid.

The sun should not set upon our anger, neither should he rise upon our confidence. We should freely forgive, but forget rarely. I will not be revenged, and I owe to my enemy; but I will remember, and this I owe to myself.

When anger rises, think of the consequences.

Had I a careful and pleasant companion, that should show me my angry face in a glass, I should not at all take it ill. Some are wont to have a looking-glass held to them while they wash, though to little purpose; but to behold a man’s self so unnaturally disguised and disordered, will conduce not a little to the impeachment of anger.

To be angry, is to revenge the faults of others upon ourselves.

If anger is not restrained, it is frequently more hurtful to us than the injury that provokes it.

Anger is a transient hatred; or, at least, very like it.

It might have pleased in the heat and hurry of his rage, but must have displeased in cool, sedate reflection.

Anger is like the waves of a troubled sea; when it is corrected with a soft reply, as with a little strand, it retires, and leaves nothing behind but froth and shells—no permanent mischief.

The anger of an enemy represents our faults or admonishes us of our duty with more heartiness than the kindness of a friend.

Be careful to discountenance in children anything that looks like rage and furious anger.

To be angry about trifles is mean and childish; to rage and be furious is brutish; and to maintain perpetual wrath is akin to the practice and temper of devils; but to prevent and suppress rising resentment is wise and glorious, is manly and divine.

Adam Smith, in his Theory of Moral Sentiments, seems to consider as the chief point of distinction between anger and hatred, the necessity to the gratification of the former that the object of it should not only be punished, but punished by means of the offended person, and on account of the particular injury inflicted. Anger requires that the offender should not only be made to grieve in his turn, but to grieve for that particular wrong which has been done by him. The natural gratification of this passion tends, of its own accord, to produce all the political ends of punishment: the correction of the criminal, and example to the public.

Aristotle, in his Rhetoric,… defines anger to be “a desire, accompanied by mental uneasiness, of avenging one’s self, or, as it were, inflicting punishment for something that appears an unbecoming slight, either in things which concern one’s self, or some of one’s friends.” And he hence infers that, if this be anger, it must be invariably felt towards some individual, not against a class or description of persons.