twenty or thirty,
deliberately. The following anecdote of the celebrated Zimmerman is
exactly in point, and may afford useful hints for instruction.

Owing in part to a diseased state of body, Zimmerman was sometimes
irritable. One day, a Russian princess and several other ladies entered
his apartment to inquire after his health; when, in a fit of petulance,
he rose, and requested them to leave the room. The prince entered some
time afterward, when Zimmerman had begun to repent of his rashness, and
after some intervening conversation, advised him, whenever he felt a
disposition to treat his friends so uncivilly again, to repeat,
_mentally_, the Lord's prayer. This advice was followed, and with
success. Not long afterward the same prince came to him for advice in
regard to the best manner of controlling the violence of those
transports of affection towards his young and amiable consort, in which
young and happy lovers are so apt to indulge. 'My dear friend,' said
Zimmerman, 'there is no expedient which can surpass your own. Whenever
you feel yourself overborne by passion, you have only to repeat the
Lord's prayer, and you will be able to reduce it to a steady and
permanent flame.'

By adopting Zimmerman's rule, we shall, as I have already observed,
gain time for reflection, than which nothing more is needed. For if the
cause of anger be a report, for example, of injury done to us by an
absent person, either in words or deeds, how do we know the report is
true? Or it may be only partly true; and how do we know, till we
consider the matter well, whether it is worth our anger at all? Or if
at all, perhaps it deserves but a little of it. It may be, too, that
the person who said or did the thing reported, did it by mistake, or is
already sorry for it. At all events, nothing can be gained by haste;
much _may_ be by delay.

If a passionate person give you ill language, you ought rather to pity
than be angry with him, for anger is a species of disease. And to
correct one evil, will you make another? If his being angry is an evil,
will it mend the matter to make _another_ evil, by indulging in passion
yourself? Will it cure his disease, to throw yourself into the same
distemper? But if not, then how foolish is it to indulge improper
feelings at all!

On the same principles, and for the same reasons, you should avoid
returning railing for railing; or reviling for reproach. It only
kindles the more heat. Besides, you will oft