the world, witnessing the punishment of the offending party, may take
to heart the lesson which we are enforcing upon him, namely, that we
are men of might and importance whom none should despise. Whoever is
angry, is angry at being despised, flouted to his face and set at
naught, either in his own person, or in the person of one whom he
venerates and loves, or in some cause that lies near to his heart.
Anger is essentially a craving for vengeance on account of a wrong
done. If then we have suffered, but think we deserve to suffer, we are
not angry. If we have suffered wrong, but the wrong seems to have been
done in ignorance, or in the heat of passion, we are not angry, or we
are not so very angry. "If he had known what he was about," we say,
or, "if he had been in his right mind, he could not have brought
himself to treat me so." But when one has done us cool and deliberate
wrong, then we are angry, because the slight is most considerable.
There is an appearance of our claims to considerations having been
weighed, and found wanting. We call it, "a cool piece of
impertinence," "spiteful malevolence," and the like. Any other motive
to which the wrong is traceable on the part of the wrong-doer, lessens
our anger against him: but the motive of contempt, and that alone, if
we seem to discover it in him, invariably increases it. To this all
other points are reducible that move our anger, as forgetfulness,
rudely delivered tidings of misfortune, a face of mirth looking on at
our distress, or getting in the way and thwarting our purpose.

3. Anger differs from hatred. Hatred is a chronic affection, anger an
acute one. Hatred wishes evil to a man as it is evil, anger as it is
just. Anger wishes evil to fall on its object in the sight of all men,
and with the full consciousness of the sufferer: hatred is satisfied
with even a secret mischief, and, so that the evil be a grievous one,
does not much mind whether the sufferer be conscious of it or no. Thus