All the poisons are not kept in chained bottles on drug-store shelves.
All the cases of strange illness and wasting are not due to subtle drops from India nor mysterious powders sold by old witches.
And all the shocking deaths are not the result of taking tablets of bichloride of mercury thinking they are of aspirin.
The commonest, deadliest, and most dreadful poisons are those we carry around with us. They are contained in our minds.
There is no doubt about the injurious effects of certain emotions upon the body. They are as well authenticated as the operation of henbane or arsenic.
The exudation of sweat-glands, for instance, has been analyzed, and certain strong feelings have been shown to produce certain definite injurious secretions.
Anger is one state which produces diseased conditions, as headache, loss of appetite, deranged digestion, even syncope.
In one instance the anger of a mother had such an effect upon her suckling child that it died in paroxysms.
Not only the occasional outburst of anger, but those states we might call chronic anger, such as impatience, petulance, irritability, bad temper, and the like, produce as clear forms of intoxication (poisoning) as alcohol.
Many cases of chronic indigestion, nervousness, morbidity, and hypochondria are attributable to nothing but slow anger poison.
If one can clean the harmful ferments out of his body by a dose of salts or by the use of bran and oil, he can also cleanse his system of far more toxic contents by forgiving his enemies every night before he goes to bed, by daily purging his consciousness of all hates, resentments, and grudges.
Anger is sometimes unavoidable, as when we witness or hear of some outrageous act of injustice or cruelty. But if we must have it, let it be quick and soon over. For when it remains in us it is we who suffer, and not our adversary.
It unnerves our hand, blinds our vision, impairs our judgment, and when it leaps to vengeance invariably overleaps, bringing to us regret and remorse in lieu of satisfaction.
“Remember,” wrote Lord Chesterfield, ‘there are but two procedures in the world to a gentleman and a man of parts: either extreme politeness or knocking down.”
And mighty good advice it is from the old worldly-wise philosopher. For anger that is balked or impotent, if kept lurking in the mind, settles into a slow poison.
It distorts the features and makes even a handsome face ugly, gives a vicious twist to the smile and a forbidding cast to the eye.
It distorts our thoughts. We become unpleasant companions to ourselves, and from ourselves there is no escape.
It upsets sleep, disturbs the simple delights of eating and drinking, degrades our work and spoils our play.
I do not say, “Don’t get angry,” but “Don’t stay angry.”
