“If,” someone argues, “virtue is well disposed toward what is honorable, it is her duty to feel anger toward what is base.” What if he should say that virtue must be both low and great? And yet this is what he does say — he would have her be both exalted and debased, since joy on account of a right action is splendid and glorious, while anger on account of another’s sin is mean and narrow-minded. And virtue will never be guilty of simulating vice in the act of redressing it; anger in itself she considers reprehensible, for it is in no way better, often even worse, than those shortcomings that provoke anger. The distinctive and natural property of virtue is to rejoice and be glad; it no more comports with her dignity to be angry than to be sad. But sorrow is the companion of anger, and all anger comes round to this as the result either of remorse or of defeat. Besides, if it is the part of a wise man to be angry at sin, the greater this is the more angry will he be, and he will be angry often; it follows that the wise man will not only become angry, but will be prone to anger. But if we believe that neither great anger nor frequent anger has a place in the mind of a wise man, is there any reason why we should not free him from this passion altogether? No limit, surely, can be set if the degree of his anger is to be determined by each man’s deed. For either he will be unjust if he has equal anger toward unequal delinquencies, or he will be habitually angry if he blazes up every time crimes give him warrant.