“Anger,” it is said, “is expedient because it escapes contempt, because it terrifies the wicked.” In the first place, if the power of anger is commensurate with its threats, for the very reason that it is terrible it is likewise hated; besides, it is more dangerous to be feared than to be scorned. If, however, anger is powerless, it is even more exposed to contempt and does not escape ridicule. For what is more silly than the futile blustering of anger? In the second place, because certain things are more terrible, they are not for that reason preferable, and I would not have it said to the wise man: “The wild beast and the wise man have the same weapon; they are feared.” What? Is not a fever feared, the gout, a malignant sore? And do they for that reason have any good in them? Or are they, on the contrary, all despised and loathsome and ugly, and for this and no other reason are feared? So anger is in itself only repulsive and is by no means to be dreaded, yet most people fear it just as children fear a repulsive mask. And what of the fact that fear always recoils upon those who inspire it and that no one who is feared is himself unafraid? You may recall in this connection the famous line of Laberius:
Full many he must fear whom many fear,7
which when delivered in the theater8 in the height of civil war caught the ear of the whole people as if utterance had been given to the people’s voice. Nature has so ordained it that whatever is mighty through the fear that others feel is not without its own. How even the lion’s heart quakes at the slightest sound! The boldest of wild beasts is startled by a shadow or a voice or an unfamiliar smell. Whatever terrifies must also tremble. There is no reason, then, why any wise man should desire to be feared, nor should he think that anger is a mighty thing simply because it arouses dread, since even the most contemptible things, such as poisonous brews9 and noxious bones10 and bites are likewise feared. Since a cord hung with feathers will stop the mightiest droves of wild beasts and guide them into traps, it is not strange that this from the very result should be called a “scare”11; for to the foolish foolish things are terrible. The speeding of the race chariot and the sight of its revolving wheels will drive back lions to their cage, and elephants are terrified by the squealing of a pig. And so we fear anger just as children fear the dark and wild beasts fear a gaudy feather. Anger in itself has nothing of the strong or the heroic, but shallow minds are affected by it.