Introduction to the Devout Life, Chapter viii (53)

On Gentleness toward Our Neighbour, and the Remedy for Anger.

The holy chrism, which, according to the tradition of the Apostles, is used in the Church of God for confirmations and blessings, is a compound of olive oil and balm, which represents, among other things, the two dear and beloved virtues that shone in the sacred person of Our Lord, and which He recommended to us in a very special manner when He said to us: _Learn of Me, for I am meek and lowly in heart_, showing us that this is the surest means of imitating Him and consecrating our heart to Him. Humility perfects a man in his duties toward God, and meekness perfects him in his duties toward his neighbor. Balm, which, as I have already said, always settles beneath the other liquids, represents humility; and olive oil, which always rises to the top, represents meekness and goodness, which overcome all things and excel among all virtues, being truly the flower of charity, which, says Saint Bernard, has reached perfection when it is not only patient, but also gentle and kind. But take care, Philothea, that this mystic chrism, composed of meekness and humility, be well within your heart; for it is one of the enemy’s great artifices to make many occupy themselves with the words and outward ways of these two virtues, so that, failing to examine their inward affections carefully, they think themselves meek and humble, and yet are in fact nothing of the sort. This is known because, notwithstanding their ceremonious meekness and affected humility, they are seen to rise up with incredible heat and pride as soon as the slightest injury is done them or the least cross word is spoken to them. They say that those who are stung or bitten by vipers never swell when they have taken the remedy commonly called Grace of Saint Paul, provided, however, that this remedy is of good quality: in the same way, when humility and meekness are good and true, they protect us from the swelling and burning that injuries are wont to cause in our hearts. If, when stung and bitten by slanderers, we become proud, puffed up, and angry, let us have no doubt: it is a sign that our humility and meekness are not true and sincere, but false and outward.

The holy and illustrious patriarch Joseph, when sending his brothers from Egypt back to their father’s house, gave them but this one counsel: _Be not angry by the way._ I say the same to you, Philothea: this wretched life is but a journey that we must make to go to Heaven; let us not therefore be angry with one another by the way, but let us walk with the company of our brothers and companions, gently, peacefully, as good friends. I say it plainly and without any exception: be not angry at all, if it be possible, and, under whatever pretext, open not the door of your heart to anger; for Saint James says that _the wrath of man worketh not the righteousness of God_. It is true that we must resist evil and repress the vices of those who are entrusted to our care, with steadfastness and strength, but also with gentleness and calm. Nothing so appeases an enraged elephant as the sight of a little lamb; and nothing deadens the blows of cannon so well as wool. Correction administered by reason alone is always better received than that in which passion joins with reason, because man readily submits to reason, to which he is naturally subject, whereas he cannot endure being mastered by passion: hence, when reason seeks to strengthen itself by passion, it makes itself hateful and loses, or at least weakens, its own authority by calling the tyranny of passion to its aid.

When princes visit their dominions in time of peace with their household, their peoples are honored and comforted by it; but when they are at the head of their armies, though it be for the public good, their passage is ever grievous and harmful, because, although they cause military discipline to be exactly observed by their soldiers, it is impossible that some disorder should not occur, of which the good inhabitant is the victim. So, as long as reason reigns and distributes punishment and blame peaceably, though rigorously and exactly, everyone loves and approves it. But when it brings with it anger, passion, and violence, which, Saint Augustine says, are its soldiers, it becomes more feared than loved, and its own heart remains altogether trampled and ill-treated. It is better, says the same Saint Augustine, writing to Profuturus, to refuse entrance to anger, even just and equitable anger, than to receive it, however small it may be; because, once received, it is difficult to make it depart, and, after insinuating itself like a little shoot, it grows in no time and becomes like a great tree. And if once it can gain the night, and the sun sets upon our anger, which the Apostle forbids, it is converted into hatred, and there is almost no way to be rid of it, because it feeds upon a thousand false prejudices, whose injustice the angry man very rarely recognizes.

It is therefore better to learn to live without anger than to seek to use it moderately and wisely; and when, through imperfection and weakness, we find ourselves overtaken by it, it is better to repel it promptly than to seek to bargain with it; for, if it be given the least leisure, it makes itself mistress of the place, and acts like the serpent, which readily draws its whole body through where it has been able to pass its head. But how shall I repel it? you will say to me. My Philothea, at the first onset of it, you must quickly gather your strength, not abruptly or impetuously, but gently and gravely; for, as we often see in the hearings of parliaments and senates, that the ushers, crying, “Peace there!” make more noise than those whom they would silence; so it often happens that, in seeking abruptly to restrain our anger, we stir up more disturbance in our heart than it had caused; and the heart, being thus troubled, can no longer be master of itself.
After this gentle effort, practise the counsel which Saint Augustine, already an old man, gave to the young bishop Auxilius: “Do,” said he, “what a man ought to do”; and if on some occasion you have cause to say, like David: “Mine eye is troubled with great anger,” have recourse at once to God, crying: “Lord, have mercy on me,” that He may stretch forth His right hand over you, and restrain your wrath. I mean that we must invoke God’s help when we see ourselves stirred by anger, after the example of the apostles, buffeted by wind and storm in the midst of the waters; for He will command our passions to cease, and at once there shall be a great calm. But I tell you always that the prayer offered against anger, when it is present and pressing, must be made gently, tranquilly, and not violently: a rule to be observed in all the remedies applied to this ill.

With this, as soon as you perceive that you have committed any act of anger, promptly repair the fault by an act of gentleness toward the person against whom you have been angered; for just as an excellent remedy against lying is to retract the lie at once, as soon as one perceives it, so too a good remedy against anger is to repair it immediately by a contrary act of gentleness; fresh wounds are always the easiest to heal.
Moreover, when you are tranquil and have no cause for anger, lay up a great store of gentleness and mildness: speak all your words and perform all your actions in the gentlest manner possible; remembering that the bride in the Canticle has honey not only upon her lips and at the tip of her tongue, but also under her tongue—that is, in her breast; and not only honey, but milk as well. For we must not only speak gently to our neighbour, but also have gentleness in all our breast, that is, throughout our soul; and we must not only have the sweetness of honey, which is aromatic and fragrant—that is, a gentle and amiable manner of dealing with strangers—but we must also have the sweetness of milk with our family and neighbours; in this those greatly fail who seem angels in the street, and are devils at home.