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Part VI, Section II, Chapter I, 1
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Part VI: Of Systems of MORAL PHILOSOPHY. CONSISTING OF FOUR SECTIONS.
Section I: Of the questions which ought to be examined in a theory of moral sentiments. If we examine the most celebrated and remarkable of the different theories which have been given concerning the nature and origin of our moral sentiments, we shall find that almost all of them coincide with some part or other of that which I have been endeavouring to give an account of; and that if every thing which has already been said be fully considered, we shall be at no loss to explain what was the view or aspect of nature which led each particular author to form his particular system. From some one or other of those principles which I have been endeavouring to unfold, every system of morality that ever had any reputation in the world has, perhaps, ultimately been derived. As they are all of them, in this respect, founded upon natural principles, they are all of them in some measure in the right. But as many of them are derived from a partial and imperfect view of nature, there are many of them too in some respects in the wrong. In treating of the principles of morals there are two questions to be considered. First, wherein does virtue consist? Or what is the tone of temper, and tenour of conduct, which constitutes the excellent and praise-worthy character, the character which is the natural object of esteem, honour, and approbation? and secondly, by what power or faculty in the mind is it, that this character, whatever it be, is recommended to us? Or in other words, how and by what means does it come to pass, that the mind prefers one tenour of conduct to another, denominates the one right and the other wrong; considers the one as the object of approbation, honour, and reward, and the other of blame, censure, and punishment? We examine the first question when we consider whether virtue consists in benevolence, as Dr. Hutcheson imagines; or in acting suitably to the different relations we stand in, as Dr. Clarke supposes; or in the wise and prudent pursuit of our own real and solid happiness, as has been the opinion of others. We examine the second question, when we consider, whether the virtuous character, whatever it consists in, be recommended to us by self-love, which makes us perceive that this character, both in ourselves and others, tends most to promote our own private interest or by reason, which points out to us the difference between one character and another, in the same manner as it does that between truth and falsehood; or by a peculiar power of perception, called a moral sense, which this virtuous character gratifies and pleases, as the contrary disgusts and displeases it; or last of all, by some other principle in human nature, such as a modification of sympathy, or the like. I shall begin with considering the systems which have been formed concerning the first of these questions, and shall proceed afterwards to examine those concerning the second. [Illustration]
Section II: Of the different accounts which have been given of the nature of virtue. INTRODUCTION. The different accounts which have been given of the nature of virtue, or of the temper of mind which constitutes the excellent and praise-worthy character, may be reduced to three different classes. According to some, the virtuous temper of mind does not consist in any one species of affections, but in the proper government and direction of all our affections, which may be either virtuous or vicious according to the objects which they pursue, and the degree of vehemence with which they pursue them. According to these authors, therefore, virtue consists in propriety. According to others, virtue consists in the judicious pursuit of our own private interest and happiness, or in the proper government and direction of those selfish affections which aim solely at this end. In the opinion of these authors, therefore, virtue consists in prudence. Another set of authors make virtue consist in those affections only which aim at the happiness of others, not in those which aim at our own. According to them, therefore, disinterested benevolence is the only motive which can stamp upon any action the character of virtue. The character of virtue, it is evident, must either be ascribed indifferently to all our affections, when under proper government and direction; or it must be confined to some one class or division of them. The great division of our affections is into the selfish and the benevolent. If the character of virtue, therefore, cannot be ascribed indifferently to all our affections, when under proper government and direction, it must be confined either to those which aim directly at our own private happiness, or to those which aim directly at that of others. If virtue, therefore, does not consist in propriety, it must consist either in prudence or in benevolence. Besides these three, it is scarce possible to imagine that any other account can be given of the nature of virtue. I shall endeavour to shew hereafter how all the other accounts, which are seemingly different from any of these, coincide at bottom with some one or other of them.
Of those systems which make virtue consist in propriety.
According to Plato, to Aristotle, and to Zeno, virtue consists in the propriety of conduct, or in the suitableness of the affection from which we act to the object which excites it.
I. In the system of Plato8 the soul is considered as something like a little state or republic, composed of three different faculties or orders.
Footnote 8:
See Plato de Rep. lib. iv.
The first is the judging faculty, the faculty which determines not only what are the proper means for attaining any end, but also what ends are fit to be pursued, and what degree of relative value we ought to put upon each. This faculty Plato called, as it is very properly called reason, and considered it as what had a right to be the governing principle of the whole. Under this appellation, it is evident, he comprehended not only that faculty by which we judge of truth and falsehood, but that by which we judge of the propriety or impropriety of desires and affections.
The different passions and appetites, the natural subject of this ruling principle, but which are so apt to rebel against their master, he reduced to two different classes or orders. The first consisted of those passions, which are founded in pride and resentment, or in what the schoolmen called the irascible part of the soul; ambition, animosity, the love of honour, and the dread of shame, the desire of victory, superiority, and revenge; all those passions, in short, which are supposed either to rise from, or to denote what, by a metaphor in our language, we commonly call spirit or natural fire. The second consisted of those passions which are founded in the love of pleasure, or in what the schoolmen called the concupiscible part of the soul. It comprehended all the appetites of the body, the love of ease and security, and of all sensual gratifications.
It rarely happens that we break in upon that plan of conduct, which the governing principle prescribes, and which in all our cool hours we had laid down to ourselves as what was most proper for us to pursue, but when prompted by one or other of those two different sets of passions; either by ungovernable ambition and resentment, or by the importunate solicitations of present ease and pleasure. But though these two orders of passions are so apt to mislead us, they are still considered as necessary parts of human nature: the first having been given to defend us against injuries, to assert our rank and dignity in the world, to make us aim at what is noble and honourable, and to make us distinguish those who act in the same manner; the second to provide for the support and necessities of the body.
In the strength, acuteness, and perfection of the governing principle was placed the essential virtue of prudence, which, according to Plato, consisted in a just and clear discernment, founded upon general and scientific ideas, of the ends which were proper to be pursued, and of the means which were proper for attaining them.
When the first set of passions, those of the irascible part of the soul, had that degree of strength and firmness, which enabled them, under the direction of reason, to despise all dangers in the pursuit of what was honourable and noble; it constituted the virtue of fortitude and magnanimity. This order of passions, according to this system, was of a more generous and noble nature than the other. They were considered upon many occasions as the auxiliaries of reason, to check and restrain the inferior and brutal appetites. We are often angry at ourselves, it was observed, we often become the objects of our own resentment and indignation, when the love of pleasure prompts to do what we disapprove of; and the irascible part of our nature is in this manner called in to assist the rational against the concupiscible.
When all those three different parts of our nature were in perfect concord with one another, when neither the irascible nor concupiscible passions ever aimed at any gratification which reason did not approve of, and when reason never commanded any thing, but what these of their own accord were willing to perform; this happy composure, this perfect and complete harmony of soul, constituted that virtue which in their language is expressed by a word which we commonly translate temperance, but which might more properly be translated good temper, or sobriety and moderation of mind.
Justice, the last and greatest of the four cardinal virtues, took place, according to this system, when each of those three faculties of the mind confined itself to its proper office, without attempting to encroach upon that of any other; when reason directed and passion obeyed, and when each passion performed its proper duty, and exerted itself towards its proper object easily and without reluctance, and with that degree of force and energy, which was suitable to the value of what it pursued. In this consisted that complete virtue, that perfect propriety of conduct, which Plato, after some of the ancient Pythagoreans, denominated Justice.
The word, it is to be observed, which expresses justice in the Greek language, has several different meanings; and as the correspondent word in all other languages, so far as I know, has the same, there must be some natural affinity among those various significations. In one sense we are said to do justice to our neighbour when we abstain from doing him any positive harm, and do not directly hurt him, either in his person, or in his estate, or in his reputation. This is that justice which I have treated of above, the observance of which may be extorted by force, and the violation of which exposes to punishment. In another sense we are said not to do justice to our neighbour unless we conceive for him all that love, respect and esteem, which his character, his situation, and his connexion with ourselves, render suitable and proper for us to feel, and unless we act accordingly. It is in this sense that we are said to do injustice to a man of merit who is connected with us, tho’ we abstain from hurting him in every respect, if we do not exert ourselves to serve him and to place him in that situation in which the impartial spectator would be pleased to see him. The first sense of the word coincides with what Aristotle and the Schoolmen call commutative justice, and with what Grotius calls the justitia expletrix, which consists in abstaining from what is another’s, and in doing voluntarily whatever we can with propriety be forced to do. The second sense of the word coincides with what some have called distributive justice9, and with the justitia attributrix of Grotius, which consists in proper beneficence, in the becoming use of what is our own, and in the applying it to those purposes either of charity or generosity, to which it is most suitable, in our situation, that it should be applied. In this sense justice comprehends all the social virtues. There is yet another sense in which the word justice is sometimes taken, still more extensive than either of the former, though very much akin to the last; and which runs too, so far as I know, through all languages. It is in this last sense that we are said to be unjust, when we do not seem to value any particular object with that degree of esteem, or to pursue it with that degree of ardour which to the impartial spectator it may appear to deserve or to be naturally fitted for exciting. Thus we are said to do injustice to a poem or a picture, when we do not admire them enough, and we are said to do them more than justice when we admire them too much. In the same manner we are said to do injustice to ourselves when we appear not to give sufficient attention to any particular object of self-interest. In this last sense, what is called justice means the same thing with exact and perfect propriety of conduct and behaviour, and comprehends in it, not only the offices of both commutative and distributive justice, but of every other virtue, of prudence, of fortitude, of temperance. It is in this last sense that Plato evidently understands what he calls justice, and which, therefore, according to him, comprehends in it the perfection of every sort of virtue.
Footnote 9:
The distributive justice of Aristotle is somewhat different. It consists in the proper distribution of rewards from the public stock of a community. See Aristotle Ethic. Nic. l. 5. c. 2.
Such is the account given by Plato of the nature of virtue, or of that temper of mind which is the proper object of praise and approbation. It consists, according to him, in that state of mind in which every faculty confines itself within its proper sphere without encroaching upon that of any other, and performs its proper office with that precise degree of strength and vigour which belongs to it. His account, it is evident, coincides in every respect with what we have said above concerning the propriety of conduct.
II. Virtue, according to Aristotle10, consists in the habit of mediocrity according to right reason. Every particular virtue, according to him, lies in a kind of middle between two opposite vices, of which the one offends from being too much, the other from being too little affected by a particular species of objects. Thus the virtue of fortitude or courage lies in the middle between the opposite vices of cowardice and of presumptuous rashness, of which the one offends from being too much, and the other from being too little affected by the objects of fear. Thus too the virtue of frugality lies in a middle between avarice and profusion, of which the one consists in an excess, the other in a defect of the proper attention to the objects of self interest. Magnanimity, in the same manner, lies in a middle between the excess of arrogance and the defect of pusillanimity, of which the one consists in too extravagant, the other in too weak a sentiment of our own worth and dignity. It is unnecessary to observe that this account of virtue corresponds too pretty exactly with what has been said above concerning the propriety and impropriety of conduct.
Footnote 10:
See Aristotle Ethic. Nic. l. 2. c. 5. et seq. et l. 3. c. 5. et seq.
Musean translation
Mouseia’s complete machine-assisted Musean translation, made directly from the complete sixth-edition English text of all parts (the appended Dissertation on the Origin of Languages is not included) for fidelity, the author’s force and cadence, and modern clarity.
Part VI: On Systems of Moral Philosophy. Consisting of Four Sections.
Section I: On the questions to be examined in a theory of moral sentiments. If we examine the most celebrated and remarkable theories of the nature and origin of our moral sentiments, we shall find that nearly all of them agree with some part of the account I have been attempting to give. If everything already said is fully considered, we can explain which aspect of nature led each author to construct his particular system. Perhaps every system of morality that has ever gained any reputation ultimately derives from one or another of the principles I have attempted to unfold. Since they all rest in this respect on natural principles, all are right to some degree. But since many arise from a partial and imperfect view of nature, many are also wrong in some respects. Two questions must be considered in treating the principles of morals. First, what constitutes virtue? What disposition and course of conduct make up the excellent and praiseworthy character naturally deserving esteem, honor, and approval? Second, what power or faculty of the mind recommends that character to us, whatever it may be? In other words, how does the mind come to prefer one course of conduct to another, call one right and the other wrong, regard one as deserving approval, honor, and reward, and the other as deserving blame, censure, and punishment? We examine the first question when we ask whether virtue consists in benevolence, as Dr. Hutcheson imagines; in conduct appropriate to our different relationships, as Dr. Clarke holds; or in the wise and prudent pursuit of our own genuine, lasting happiness, as others believe. We examine the second when we ask whether the virtuous character, whatever constitutes it, is recommended to us by self-love, which shows us how this character in ourselves and others promotes our private interest; by reason, which distinguishes characters as it distinguishes truth from falsehood; by a special perceptive power called moral sense, pleased and gratified by virtue and disgusted by its opposite; or, finally, by some other human principle, such as a form of sympathy. I shall begin with systems addressing the first question and then turn to those addressing the second.
Section II: On the different accounts of the nature of virtue. Introduction. The various accounts of virtue, or of the disposition constituting an excellent and praiseworthy character, fall into three classes. Some hold that a virtuous disposition consists not in any single kind of affection, but in properly governing and directing all our affections, which may be virtuous or vicious according to what they seek and how vehemently they seek it. For these authors, then, virtue consists in propriety. Others locate virtue in the judicious pursuit of our own private interest and happiness, or the proper government of the self-interested affections directed solely toward that end. For them virtue consists in prudence. A third group locates virtue only in the affections that seek others’ happiness, not in those that seek our own. For them disinterested benevolence is the only motive that can make an action virtuous. Clearly, virtue must belong either to all our affections when properly governed and directed, or to some single class of them. The principal division is between self-interested and benevolent affections. If virtue does not belong to all affections under proper direction, it must belong either to those directed at our own private happiness or to those directed at the happiness of others. Thus, if virtue does not consist in propriety, it must consist in prudence or benevolence. One can scarcely imagine another account beyond these three. I shall show later how accounts apparently different from all three are fundamentally in agreement with one of them.
On systems that locate virtue in propriety.
According to Plato, Aristotle, and Zeno, virtue consists in the propriety of conduct, or in the fitness of the affection motivating us to its object.
I. In Plato’s system8, the soul resembles a small state or republic made up of three distinct faculties or orders.
8 See Plato, Republic, book iv.
The first is the faculty of judgment: it determines both the proper means of achieving an end and which ends are worth pursuing, as well as the relative value we should place on each. Plato called this faculty reason, quite aptly, and held that it was entitled to govern the whole. By this name he evidently included not only our faculty for judging truth and falsehood, but also our faculty for judging the propriety of desires and affections.
The various passions and appetites naturally subject to this ruling principle, though inclined to rebel against it, he divided into two classes. The first comprised passions grounded in pride and resentment, or what the scholastics called the irascible part of the soul: ambition, animosity, love of honor and dread of shame, the desire for victory, superiority, and revenge; in short, all the passions thought to arise from, or reveal, what we figuratively call spirit or natural fire. The second comprised passions grounded in love of pleasure, or what the scholastics called the concupiscible part of the soul: every bodily appetite, love of ease and security, and all sensual gratification.
We rarely depart from the plan of conduct prescribed by our ruling principle, the plan we set for ourselves in calmer hours as the most proper course, unless one of these two groups of passions prompts us: uncontrollable ambition and resentment, or the insistent call of immediate ease and pleasure. Though both can mislead us, each remains a necessary part of human nature. The first was given us to defend against injury, assert our standing and dignity in the world, aspire to what is noble and honorable, and recognize those who act likewise; the second, to provide for the body’s needs and sustenance.
The essential virtue of prudence lay in the strength, keenness, and perfection of the governing faculty. For Plato it consisted in a sound and clear discernment, grounded in general and systematic understanding, of the ends worth pursuing and the means proper for attaining them.
When the passions of the first group, those of the irascible part of the soul, possess enough strength and firmness to face every danger in pursuit of the honorable and noble under reason’s guidance, they constitute fortitude and magnanimity. In this system these passions are more generous and noble than those of the other group. They are often treated as reason’s allies in checking and restraining the lower, brutal appetites. We often grow angry with ourselves, it was observed, and feel resentment and indignation toward ourselves when love of pleasure tempts us to do what we disapprove. Thus the irascible part of our nature is enlisted to help reason against the concupiscible part.
When all three parts of our nature are in perfect accord; when neither the irascible nor the concupiscible passions seek any satisfaction reason does not approve, and reason commands nothing that they would not willingly do on their own, this happy composure and perfect harmony of the soul constitute the virtue commonly translated as temperance. It might be better translated as good temper, or sobriety and moderation of mind.
Justice, the last and greatest of the four cardinal virtues, arises in this system when each of the three faculties keeps to its proper task without encroaching on another’s: when reason directs and passion obeys, and each passion performs its own duty and pursues its proper object readily and without reluctance, with a degree of force appropriate to that object’s value. This complete virtue, this perfect propriety of conduct, Plato, following some ancient Pythagoreans, called Justice.
It should be noted that the Greek word for justice has several meanings. Since, so far as I know, its equivalent in every other language does too, these various meanings must have some natural connection. In one sense, we do justice to our neighbor when we refrain from doing him positive harm, directly injuring neither his person, property, nor reputation. This is the justice I discussed earlier: it can be enforced, and its violation punished. In another sense, we fail to do our neighbor justice unless we feel and act on all the love, respect, and esteem appropriate to his character, circumstances, and relationship with us. In this sense we do injustice to a deserving person connected with us if, though we do not harm him in any respect, we make no effort to serve him or put him in the position the impartial spectator would wish him to occupy. The first sense corresponds to what Aristotle and the scholastics call commutative justice and Grotius calls justitia expletrix: refraining from taking what belongs to another and voluntarily doing everything that we could properly be compelled to do. The second corresponds to what some call distributive justice9 and Grotius’s justitia attributrix: proper beneficence, the fitting use of what belongs to us for the charitable or generous purposes most appropriate to our circumstances. In this sense justice includes all the social virtues. There is also a third sense, broader still than the first two though closely related to the second; as far as I know, it too occurs in all languages. In this sense we are unjust when we seem not to value a particular object as highly, or pursue it as ardently, as the impartial spectator thinks it deserves or is naturally suited to inspire. We do injustice to a poem or picture when we admire it too little, and more than justice when we admire it too much. Likewise we do injustice to ourselves when we pay too little attention to a particular concern of our own. Here justice means exact and perfect propriety of conduct and includes not only commutative and distributive justice but every other virtue: prudence, fortitude, and temperance. Plato evidently means justice in this last sense, which therefore embraces the perfection of every virtue.
9 Aristotle’s distributive justice is somewhat different. It consists in the proper distribution of rewards from a community’s public resources. See Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics, book 5, chapter 2.
Such is Plato’s account of virtue, the disposition properly deserving praise and approval. On his view it consists in a state of mind where each faculty remains within its own sphere without encroaching upon another’s, performing its office with precisely the strength and vigor appropriate to it. His account plainly agrees in every respect with what I said earlier about propriety of conduct.
II. According to Aristotle10, virtue consists in the habit of observing a mean in accordance with sound reason. Each virtue occupies a middle position between two opposite vices: one arises from feeling too much about a given kind of object, the other from feeling too little. Courage, for example, lies between cowardice and reckless presumption, the former excessively affected by fearful things and the latter insufficiently affected. Frugality likewise lies between avarice and extravagance, one giving excessive attention and the other too little to matters of self-interest. Magnanimity stands between arrogance and faintheartedness, one an extravagant and the other an inadequate sense of our own worth and dignity. This account of virtue, it hardly needs saying, also corresponds closely to what I said earlier about proper and improper conduct.
10 See Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics, book 2, chapter 5 and following, and book 3, chapter 5 and following.
Plain English translation
Mouseia’s complete Plain English edition, made independently and directly from the complete sixth-edition English text of all parts (the appended Dissertation on the Origin of Languages is not included).
Part VI: Systems of Moral Philosophy. In Four Sections.
Section I: Questions a Theory of Moral Sentiments Must Examine. Consider the best-known and most notable theories about the nature and origin of our moral sentiments. We will find that nearly all of them agree with some part of the account I have been giving. If we think fully about everything already said, we can explain which aspect of nature led each writer to develop his own system. Perhaps every moral system that has gained any standing in the world ultimately comes from one or another of the principles I have tried to explain. They are all based on natural principles in this respect, and so each is partly right. But many arise from a limited, incomplete view of nature, and so each of these is partly wrong as well. There are two questions to consider when discussing the principles of morality. First, what is virtue? What state of mind and pattern of behavior make a person excellent and worthy of praise, and naturally deserving of esteem, honor, and approval? Second, what mental power or faculty leads us to approve of that character, whatever it may be? In other words, how and why does the mind prefer one pattern of behavior to another? Why does it call one right and the other wrong, and treat one as worthy of approval, honor, and reward and the other as worthy of blame, criticism, and punishment? We address the first question when we ask whether virtue consists in benevolence, as Dr. Hutcheson thinks; in acting in ways suited to our different relationships, as Dr. Clarke holds; or in wisely and carefully pursuing our own genuine and lasting happiness, as others believe. We address the second when we ask what makes a virtuous character attractive to us, whatever virtue consists in. Is it self-love, which shows us that such a character in ourselves or others best serves our own private interests? Is it reason, which shows the difference between characters as it shows the difference between truth and falsehood? Is it a special faculty of perception called a moral sense, pleased by virtue and repelled by its opposite? Or is it another principle of human nature, such as a form of sympathy? I will begin with the systems developed to answer the first question and then examine those concerning the second.
Section II: Different Accounts of the Nature of Virtue. Introduction. Accounts of the nature of virtue, or of the state of mind that makes a person excellent and worthy of praise, fall into three classes. Some writers say a virtuous state of mind does not consist in any single kind of feeling. It consists instead in properly governing and directing all our feelings. Any feeling can be virtuous or vicious, depending on what it seeks and how strongly it seeks it. For these writers, virtue consists in propriety. Others say virtue consists in carefully pursuing our own private interest and happiness, or in properly directing the self-interested feelings that seek only those ends. For them, virtue consists in prudence. A third group locates virtue only in feelings aimed at the happiness of others, not in those aimed at our own. For them, only benevolence free from self-interest can make an action virtuous. Clearly, virtue must apply either to all our feelings when properly governed and directed or only to one category of them. Our feelings divide mainly into self-interested and benevolent ones. If virtue does not apply equally to all properly directed feelings, it must belong either to those directly aimed at our own private happiness or to those directly aimed at others' happiness. So if virtue does not consist in propriety, it must consist in either prudence or benevolence. It is hard to imagine another account of virtue besides these three. I will show later that all accounts that seem different from them really agree with one of them.
Systems That Make Virtue Consist in Propriety.
For Plato, Aristotle, and Zeno, virtue consists in proper conduct. It means that the feeling behind an action fits the thing that arouses it.
I. In Plato's system8, the soul is like a small state or republic made up of three different faculties or groups.
See Plato, Republic, book iv.
First comes the faculty that judges. It decides both which means suit an end and which ends are worth pursuing. It also decides how much value to give each end relative to the others. Plato called this faculty reason, as we rightly do, and held that it should govern the whole person. Clearly, he included under this name not only our ability to judge truth and falsehood but also our ability to judge whether desires and feelings are proper.
Plato divided the various passions and appetites that reason should rule, but that so often rebel against it, into two groups. The first includes feelings rooted in pride and resentment, or what medieval scholars called the spirited part of the soul. They include ambition, hostility, love of honor, fear of shame, and desires for victory, superiority, and revenge. In short, they are all the feelings thought to arise from, or to indicate, what we figuratively call spirit or natural fire. The second group includes feelings rooted in love of pleasure, or what medieval scholars called the desiring part of the soul. These include all bodily appetites and love of comfort, safety, and every physical pleasure.
We rarely depart from a plan of conduct set by our governing faculty, which we decided in calmer moments was best for us, unless one of those two groups of feelings pushes us. We may be driven by uncontrollable ambition and resentment or by insistent demands for immediate comfort and pleasure. Although both groups can mislead us, they remain necessary parts of human nature. The first was given to us to defend against injury, assert our standing and dignity, pursue noble and honorable things, and recognize people who act likewise. The second provides for the body's needs and survival.
According to Plato, the essential virtue of prudence lay in a strong, sharp, and fully developed governing faculty. Prudence meant a fair and clear understanding, based on general and systematic ideas, of which goals were worth pursuing and which means would achieve them.
When the first group of passions, the spirited ones, were strong and steady enough to face every danger in pursuit of noble and honorable goals under reason's guidance, they produced courage and greatness of spirit. This group was considered more generous and noble than the other. Often these feelings were thought to help reason keep the lower, animal appetites in check. People observed that we often get angry at ourselves. We resent and condemn ourselves when the love of pleasure prompts us to do something we disapprove of. In this way the spirited part of our nature helps the rational part stand against our desire for pleasure.
When all three parts of our nature agreed perfectly, neither the spirited nor the pleasure-seeking feelings pursued anything reason rejected. Reason, in turn, asked for nothing they would not willingly do. This happy state of mind, this complete harmony of the soul, made up the virtue usually translated as temperance. It might be better described as good temper, or as a sober and moderate mind.
In this system, justice, the last and greatest of the four main virtues, arose when each of the mind's three faculties stayed within its own role and did not take over another's. Reason directed and the passions obeyed. Each passion carried out its own task and moved easily, without resistance, toward the right object, with energy suited to the object's value. This was complete virtue and perfectly proper conduct. Following some early Pythagoreans, Plato called it justice.
We should note that the Greek word for justice has several meanings. As far as I know, the matching word in every other language does too, so these meanings must have some natural connection. In one sense, we act justly toward our neighbor when we do not deliberately harm him or directly injure his person, property, or reputation. I discussed this kind of justice earlier. It can be enforced, and violating it can be punished. In another sense, we do not act justly toward our neighbor unless we feel all the love, respect, and esteem appropriate to his character, situation, and relationship with us, and act accordingly. In this sense, we wrong a deserving person close to us when we fail to help him or advance him to the position where the impartial spectator would be pleased to see him, even if we never harm him. The first meaning matches what Aristotle and the medieval scholars call commutative justice and what Grotius calls justitia expletrix. It means leaving other people's things alone and willingly doing whatever we can properly be compelled to do. The second meaning matches what some call distributive justice9 and what Grotius calls justitia attributrix. It means practicing beneficence appropriately and using what is ours in a fitting way. We put it to the charitable or generous uses most suited to our situation. In this sense, justice covers all the social virtues. There is a third meaning, broader than the first two but close to the second. As far as I know, it occurs in all languages too. Here we are unjust if we fail to value something as highly as the impartial spectator thinks it deserves, or fail to pursue it with appropriate enthusiasm. We say we do injustice to a poem or picture if we admire it too little, or do it more than justice if we admire it too much. Similarly, we say we do ourselves an injustice if we neglect something important to our own interests. In this third sense, justice means completely proper conduct and behavior. It includes both kinds of justice already described and every other virtue: prudence, courage, and temperance. Plato clearly uses justice in this last sense, so for him it includes the perfection of every virtue.
Aristotle's distributive justice is somewhat different. It concerns the proper distribution of rewards from a community's shared resources. See Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics, book 5, chapter 2.
This is Plato's account of virtue, the state of mind rightly praised and approved. For him it means that each mental faculty stays in its proper sphere without intruding on another's and carries out its own task with precisely the right strength and energy. Clearly, his account matches in every respect what I said earlier about proper conduct.
II. According to Aristotle10, virtue is the habit of finding the middle ground as correct reasoning directs. Each virtue lies between two opposing vices. In one vice a person feels too much about a particular kind of thing; in the other, too little. Courage, for example, lies between cowardice and reckless boldness. One responds too much to things that cause fear and the other too little. Similarly, frugality lies between greed and extravagance. One pays too much attention to one's interests and the other too little. Greatness of spirit lies between arrogance and lack of confidence: one involves too high an opinion of our own worth and dignity, the other too low an opinion. This account of virtue also corresponds closely to what I said earlier about proper and improper conduct.
See Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics, book 2, chapter 5 and following, and book 3, chapter 5 and following.