The Moral Virtues

Part One: The Nature of Virtue

Some time ago I wrote about the practice of keeping a commonplace journal. I briefly mentioned, in that article, that which I mean to now expand upon in a series of articles concerning the moral virtues. These seven moral virtues may themselves be broken into two sets, the four Cardinal and three Theological virtues. The meaning behind this distinction I will explain later on in this series. For now, I wish only to discuss the concept of virtue itself and of moral virtue in particular.

The English word “virtue” comes from the Latin word “virtus” which is typically used to describe a man’s prowess in warfare. Virtus has as its root word the more basic Latin word, “vir”, which simply means “man.” The etymology of this term is relatively easy to follow and is eminently helpful in understanding the concept of virtue. Vir, meaning “man,” signifies the biological sex which is generally acknowledged to have greater physical strength. This in turn applied to the battlefield wherein, historically speaking, men were the warriors who fought and showed their strength. To fight well and to show bravery on the battlefield was to act manfully as one was expected to do. By extension the word virtue (or virtus) came to refer to showing strength or excellence, not just on the battlefield, but in any area of life. Hence men and women alike exhibit virtue when they do something in an excellent way or show their strength in some quality.

There is probably no perfect nor complete list of all possible virtues but there are some general categories which are helpful. For instance, we may speak of “intellectual virtues” versus “moral virtues”. Further, we may rightly note that there are particular virtues tied to certain roles, (i.e. the virtues of a good teacher as opposed to the virtues of a good student). Again there may be various virtues unique to certain professions such as the virtues of a good bricklayer, fisherman, I.T. professional, medical doctor, etc. We can even talk about the virtues of a good hunting dog or vacuum cleaner. In all of these cases we mean to say that they have a certain kind of excellency that is fitting to their person, their role in society, or function of design.

Virtue, in any case, is a quality of excellence.

The moral virtues, then, are excellencies concerning right behavior. Moral behavior can be directed at one (or more) of three possible objects, namely, self, neighbor, or God. Moral behaviors concern that which we call “good” and “evil.” Other kinds of virtues are not judged according to this speech. A person who lacks in intellectual virtues is not necessarily morally deficient (although moral vice can sometimes lead to intellectual vice). Nor would we say that a vacuum cleaner which has stopped functioning correctly is “wicked” (unless we are being dramatic, which I fully support). The moral virtues, on the other hand, are exactly those excellencies which are to be praised when exhibited by individuals whereas the failure to produce them should, in fact, be met with consistent disapproval in a just society.

In his great work, Nicomachean Ethics, Aristotle discussed the nature of virtue. In part he described virtue as being a mean between two corresponding vices. He wrote,

[I]t is the nature of such things to be destroyed by defect and excess, as we see in the case of strength and of health (for to gain light on things imperceptible we must use the evidence of sensible things); both excessive and defective exercise destroys the strength, and similarly drink or food which is above or below a certain amount destroys the health, while that which is proportionate both produces and increases and preserves it. So too is it, then, in the case of temperance and courage and the other virtues. For the man who flies from and fears everything and does not stand his ground against anything becomes a coward, and the man who fears nothing at all but goes to meet every danger becomes rash; and similarly the man who indulges in every pleasure and abstains from none becomes self-indulgent, while the man who shuns every pleasure, as boors do, becomes in a way insensible; temperance and courage, then, are destroyed by excess and defect, and preserved by the mean.¹

So then, when it comes to the path of virtue, we may conceive it as a narrow road with a ditch on either side. To the left is the ditch of deficiency or lack and to the right lies the ditch of excess. Both ditches have a relationship to the virtue in question but they fail to actually be that virtue on account of some deficiency or excess. The following chart lists the seven moral virtues which have been widely recognized since ancient times and all throughout church history. The virtues are listed in the center column (cardinal first and then the theological) with their corresponding vices on either side.

In the series of posts which will follow I will discuss each virtue and their corresponding vices in some detail. It may not seem immediately obvious in some cases why I have chosen to name the vices as I have but, I think, you will come to see their connection throughout this series.

One last matter to be considered on the nature of virtue is the means by which it may be acquired. Virtue may be acquired through constant repetition of a virtuous behavior until it becomes an ingrained habit. This is equally true of vice, however. As C. S. Lewis tells us in his Screwtape Letters, “All mortals tend to turn into the things they are pretending to be.”² At some point the actions we put into practice stop being forced and become natural. Nevertheless, they always begin with the choices we make long before those actions become an ingrained part of our nature.

Again Lewis writes, “Very often the only way to get a quality in reality is to start behaving as if you had it already. That is why children’s games are so important. They are always pretending to be grown-ups – playing soldiers, playing shop. But all the time they are hardening their muscles and sharpening their wits, so that the pretence of being grown-up helps them grow up in earnest.”³ So it is with virtue. He who wishes to be just must do what is just until he is just. He who would be temperate must behave temperately until he is temperate. At first it might be quite difficult to walk in virtue but given time and practice it becomes easier. Every time we repeat a moral action (or an immoral action) it creates an impression in our soul. The longer we repeat those actions the deeper the rut becomes and the harder it becomes to dislodge from that path (for good or ill).

It is said that Heracles once faced the choice of an easy and pleasurable life or a hard and glorious life. Roger Lancelyn Green renders the story in a relatable way for his young readers and it is worthy of a longer excerpt:

While Heracles was guarding the cattle of Amphitryon on the lonely slopes of Mount Cithaeron, and still ignorant of his high destiny, a strange thing befell him. As he sat alone on the hillside one day, wondering if he was fated to be a cow-herd all his life, or whether it would not be better to become a wild robber of the mountains, he saw two lovely maidens coming towards him. One of them was dressed in simply white, and had modest, down-cast eyes and a calm, gentle face from which seemed to shine both goodness and wisdom; but the other wore bright colours, and came striding along glancing boldly about her – now admiring herself, and now looking to others for admiration. She was decked with rich jewels, and her face was artfully touched with powder.

As they drew near to Heracles, the second, as if anxious to forestall her companion, pushed eagerly ahead and spoke to him: ‘Dear Heracles,’ she said, ‘I see that you have reached the age when you must choose what kind of life yours is to be. So I have come to urge you to take me as your friend and let me guide you on your way. I promise that if you do I will lead you by the easiest and most delightful paths. You shall taste every pleasure, and no troubles of toils shall come near you. Your life shall be passed in the pursuit and enjoyment of pleasant things, with no labour, of body or mind, except to please yourself without any thought for the cares of others.’ She paused, and Heracles asked: ‘Lady, tell me your name.” Then she answered softly: ‘Heracles, those who love me call me Happiness, but my enemies, it is true, have another name which I do not care to mention.’

Meanwhile the modest maiden had come up, and now she spoke: ‘I too, noble Heracles, am come to offer you a way of life. I know of what a worthy line you come, that you are descended from Perseus the Gorgon-slayer, and are yourself the son of Zeus. I know how well you have learnt all the accomplishments necessary for the path which I trust that you will take, in my company. Follow me, and you will do great deeds and leave a name which will never be forgotten. But you cannot win what is glorious and excellent in the world without care and labour: the gods give no real good, no true happiness to men on earth on any other terms. If you would bring happiness to others and be remembered in Greece, you must strive for the service of Greece – as you well may with your strength and your skill, if you do but use them rightly. As for my companion, who is called Vice and Folly and other such names, do not be misled by her: there is no pleasure and no happiness like those which you earn by strife and labour and with the sweat of your brow.’

‘Do not believe this foolish girl, who is called Virtue!’ interrupted Vice hastily. ‘My way is short and pleasant; hers is hard, and long, and the end is doubtful.’ 

‘Come, Heracles,’ said Virtue quietly, ‘choose which of us you will follow. Her path leads through easy, worthless pleasures that grow stale and horrible and yet are craved after more and more. But follow me through toil and suffering to the great heritage which Zeus has planned for you.’

‘Lady!’ cried Heracles, ‘I choose your path! Tell me how to set my foot on it, and I will not turn back however hard it prove, and whatever I have to endure on the way.’

‘You have chosen worthily,’ she said in her calm, gentle voice. ‘And for the beginning – look yonder! What is it that disturbs your cattle so?’

Heracles looked across the valley, and saw a great yellow lion leaping down the slope with open jaws towards the cows, who fled this way and that, lowing piteously in terror. With a shout of fury Heracles sprang to his feet and went charging down the valley and up the other side. But by the time he got there, the lion had gone, and one of the cows lay dead. ‘I’ll kill that lion, or perish in the attempt!’ cried Heracles angrily, and he turned back towards the two maidens – but there was no one to be seen.⁴

Heracles charged the lion with courage and he set his foot on the path to virtue. It would be wrong to say that he became truly virtuous on that day, or that he attained to the virtue of courage in that moment, but it is entirely appropriate to say that he set his foot to the path of virtue in taking courage that day. Virtue chosen and regularly practiced actually makes it difficult to leave the path of virtue once the path becomes well worn.

The greatest moral teacher who ever lived once told his disciples to “Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few.” In fact this seems to be the common teaching of all great moral teachers that “the good” lies down the path of hard labor and difficulty whereas destruction lies down the path of ease (no matter how immediately desirable that path may seem). The offer of quick pleasure is highly tempting but lasting happiness is not to be found on that road. Vice is always easier, but virtue is always better. Happiness (which is not mere momentary pleasure) is a sustained sense of wellbeing and it is directly linked to the consistent practice of moral virtue.

1. Aristotle. Nicomachean ethics, in Great Books of the Western World vol. 16. (Chicago: Encyclopedia Britannica, Inc., 1990), 349.

2.  C. S. Lewis, The Screwtape Letters: And Screwtape Proposes a Toast (New York, NY: HarperOne, An Imprint of HarperCollins Publishers, 2013), 46.

3.  C. S. Lewis, Miracles: A Preliminary Study (San Francisco, CA: Harper, 2013), 161.

4.  Roger Lancelyn Green, Alan Langford, and Rick Riordan, Tales of the Greek Heroes (London: Puffin, 2015), 116-118.