On Anger, Book 2, Section 10 — In Plain English

Seneca — The Senator

So the wise person stays calm and deals honestly with mistakes. He doesn't hate sinners — he tries to help them get better. Every day he goes out thinking: "I'm going to meet a lot of people today who are drunks, perverts, ungrateful jerks, greedy bastards, and people driven crazy by ambition." He looks at all of them the same way a doctor looks at his patients. When a ship is taking on water through its cracked boards, does the captain get angry at the sailors or the ship? No. Instead, he tries to fix it. He blocks some holes, bails out water, seals up whatever cracks he can see, and works constantly against the leaks he can't see that are flooding the ship. He doesn't give up just because as much water comes in as he pumps out. We need to keep fighting these endless, multiplying problems for the long haul. Not to eliminate them completely, but just to keep them from drowning us.

Seneca — The Senator Original

The wise man, therefore, being tranquil, and dealing candidly with mistakes, not an enemy to but an improver of sinners, will go abroad every day in the following frame of mind:—"Many men will meet me who are drunkards, lustful, ungrateful, greedy, and excited by the frenzy of ambition." He will view all these as benignly as a physician does his patients. When a man's ship leaks freely through its opened seams, does he become angry with the sailors or the ship itself? No; instead of that, he tries to remedy it: he shuts out some water, bales out some other, closes all the holes that he can see, and by ceaseless labour counteracts those which are out of sight and which let water into the hold; nor does he relax his efforts because as much water as he pumps out runs in again. We need a long-breathed struggle against permanent and prolific evils; not, indeed, to quell them, but merely to prevent their overpowering us.

Seneca — The Senator

Heraclitus used to cry whenever he went outside and saw so many people living miserable lives — actually dying miserable deaths. He felt sorry for everyone he met who seemed happy and joyful. He had a gentle heart, but it was too soft. Really, he should have wept for himself too. Democritus was the opposite. He supposedly never appeared in public without laughing. Human activities seemed so ridiculous to him that he couldn't take any of them seriously. So where does anger fit in? Everything should either make us cry or make us laugh. A wise person won't get angry at people who do wrong. Why not? Because he knows nobody is born wise — we all have to learn. He knows that very few people in any generation actually become wise. He understands what human life is really like. No reasonable person gets angry at nature. Think about it — would you be surprised that wild bushes don't grow fruit? Would you wonder why thorns don't produce berries you can eat? Nobody gets mad when nature has a flaw.

Seneca — The Senator Original

Heraclitcus, whenever he came out of doors and beheld around him such a number of men who were living wretchedly, nay, rather perishing wretchedly, used to weep: he pitied all those who met him joyous and happy. He was of a gentle but too weak disposition; and he himself was one of those for whom he ought to have wept. Democritus, on the other hand, is said never to have appeared in public without laughing; so little did men's serious occupations appear serious to him. What room is there for anger? Everything ought either to move us to tears or to laughter. The wise man will not be angry with sinners. Why not? Because he knows that no one is born wise, but becomes so: he knows that very few wise men are produced in any age, because he thoroughly understands the circumstances of human life. Now, no sane man is angry with nature: for what should we say if a man chose to be surprised that fruit did not hang on the thickets of a forest, or to wonder at bushes and thorns not being covered with some useful berry? No one is angry when nature excuses a defect.