nder which thirst is included, is distinct
from anger and reason. But suppose that we allow the term 'thirst' or
'desire' to be modified, and say an 'angry thirst,' or a 'revengeful
desire,' then the two spheres of desire and anger overlap and become
confused. This case therefore has to be excluded. And still there
remains an exception to the rule in the use of the term 'good,' which is
always implied in the object of desire. These are the discussions of
an age before logic; and any one who is wearied by them should remember
that they are necessary to the clearing up of ideas in the first
development of the human faculties.

The psychology of Plato extends no further than the division of the soul
into the rational, irascible, and concupiscent elements, which, as far
as we know, was first made by him, and has been retained by Aristotle
and succeeding ethical writers. The chief difficulty in this early
analysis of the mind is to define exactly the place of the irascible
faculty (Greek), which may be variously described under the terms
righteous indignation, spirit, passion. It is the foundation of courage,
which includes in Plato moral courage, the courage of enduring pain, and
of surmounting intellectual difficulties, as well as of meeting dangers
in war. Though irrational, it inclines to side with the rational: it
cannot be aroused by punishment when justly inflicted: it sometimes
takes the form of an enthusiasm which sustains a man in the performance
of great actions. It is the 'lion heart' with which the reason makes
a treaty. On the other hand it is negative rather than positive; it
is indignant at wrong or falsehood, but does not, like Love in the
Symposium and Phaedrus, aspire to the vision of Truth or Good. It is the
peremptory military spirit which prevails in the government of honour.
It differs from anger (Greek), this latter term having no accessory
notion of righteous indignation. Although Aristotle has retained the
word, yet we may observe that 'passion' (Greek) has with him lost its
affinity to the rational and has become indistinguishable from 'anger'
(Greek). And to this vernacular use Plato himself in the Laws seems to
revert, though not always. By modern philosophy too, as well as in our
ordinary conversation, the words anger or passion are employed almost
exclusively in a bad sense; there is no connotation of a just or
reasonable cause by which they are aroused. The feeling of 'righteous
indignation' i