3.13
Fight against yourself! If you will to conquer anger, it cannot conquer you. If it is kept out of sight, if it is given no outlet, you begin to conquer. Let us conceal the signs, and so far as it is possible let us keep it hidden and secret. We shall have great trouble in doing this, for it is eager to leap forth and fire the eyes and transform the countenance; but if we allow it to show itself outside of us, at once it is on top of us. It should be kept hidden in the deepest depths of the heart and it should not drive, but be driven; and more, all symptoms of it let us change into just the opposite. Let the countenance be unruffled, let the voice be very gentle, the step very slow; gradually the inner man conforms itself to the outer. In the case of Socrates, it was a sign of anger if he lowered his voice and became sparing of speech. It was evident then that he was struggling against himself. And so his intimate friends would find him out and accuse him, yet he was not displeased by the charge of concealing his anger. Why should he not have been happy that many perceived his anger, yet no man felt it? But they would have felt it, had his friends not been granted the same right to criticize him which he himself claimed over them. How much more ought we to do this! Let us beg all our best friends to use to the utmost such liberty toward us, especially when we are least able to bear it, and let there be no approval of our anger. While we are sane, while we are ourselves, let us ask help against an evil that is powerful and oft indulged by us. Those who cannot carry their wine discreetly and fear that they will be rash and insolent in their cups, instruct their friends to remove them from the feast; those who have learned that they are unreasonable when they are sick, give orders that in times of illness they are not to be obeyed. It is best to provide obstacles for recognized weaknesses, and above all so to order the mind that even when shaken by most serious and sudden happenings it either shall not feel anger, or shall bury deep any anger that may arise from the magnitude of the unexpected affront and shall not acknowledge its hurt. That this can be done will become clear if from a great array of instances I shall cite a few examples; from these you may learn two things — how great evil there is in anger when it wields the complete power of supremely powerful men, and how great control it can impose upon itself when restrained by the stronger influence of fear.