Book 4, Chapter 19

“What of the fact that these same Peripatetics say that the disturbances we think should be rooted out are not only natural but bestowed by nature for our benefit?

43 “Their argument runs like this. First, they praise irascibility at length, calling it the whetstone of courage. Angry people, they say, attack both the enemy and a wicked fellow citizen far more fiercely, whereas the petty reasonings of those who think, ‘It is right to fight this battle; we ought to fight for the laws, for liberty, for our country,’ are feeble. These thoughts have no force unless courage is set ablaze by anger. Nor do they speak only of warriors. They think no command can be truly strict without some harshness of temper. Finally, they do not approve of an orator without the sting of anger, not only when prosecuting but even when defending. Even if he does not feel it, they think he should imitate it in words and gestures, so that his delivery may kindle anger in his audience. In short, they deny the name of man to anyone who does not know how to be angry, and what we call gentleness they brand with the discreditable name of sluggishness.

44 “Nor do they praise only this kind of lust—for anger, as I defined it just now, is lust for revenge. They say that the whole class of lust or desire was bestowed by nature for the greatest benefit, since no one can do anything splendidly unless he desires it. Themistocles used to walk abroad at night because he could not sleep, and when people asked why, he answered that Miltiades’ trophies roused him from sleep. Who has not heard of Demosthenes’ sleepless nights? He said it pained him if ever the workmen’s industry before dawn outdid his own. Finally, even the leading philosophers could never have made such progress in their studies without burning desire. We are told that Pythagoras, Democritus, and Plato traveled to the remotest lands. Wherever there was anything to learn, they thought they must go there. Do we suppose these things could have been achieved without the most ardent desire?”

“What about this? The very same Peripatetics say that these disturbances, which we think should be rooted out, are not only natural but useful gifts of nature.

43 “Here’s how they argue. They begin with a lengthy tribute to anger: it sharpens courage like a whetstone, they say. An angry attacker strikes harder against a foreign enemy or a bad citizen alike. Compare the feeble scraps of reasoning in a calculation such as ‘Fighting this battle is right; our laws, freedom, and country call us to fight.’ They say such considerations achieve nothing unless anger has fired courage up. This isn’t limited to fighting men. In their view, forceful commands require a harsh edge of temper. They even demand the sting of anger from a speaker, not just in prosecution but in defense. When no real anger is there, words and gestures should copy it, they think, to let the performance kindle the hearers’ anger. They go so far as to deny manliness to anyone who can’t get angry. Gentleness, in our language, becomes sluggishness in their disapproving language.

44 “Nor does their praise stop at that one craving—anger means wanting revenge, as I defined it just now. Nature supplied the entire class of craving, or desire, for the greatest possible benefit, they maintain: outstanding achievement is impossible without wanting it. Think of Themistocles pacing the streets at night, unable to sleep. Asked why, he said Miltiades’ trophies kept rousing him from sleep. Demosthenes’ nights of wakeful work are familiar to everyone. He said it hurt him whenever craftsmen starting before dawn got ahead of him in diligence. Nor could the great founders of philosophy have advanced their studies so far without desire burning in them. Pythagoras, Democritus, and Plato, we’re told, journeyed to the earth’s furthest reaches. Wherever anything could be learned, they considered it their duty to travel there. Could all that have happened without desire at its hottest?”