The second element of human nature, spirit, must be dealt with in the same way. By spirit Plato means the fighting element in us, that which prompts us to defend ourselves, the faculty of indignation, anger, and vengeance. To make it concrete, let us take a case. Suppose the cook in our kitchen has times of being careless, cross, saucy, wilful, and disobedient. The spirit within prompts us to upbraid her, quarrel with her, and when she grows in turn more insolent and impertinent, to discharge her. Is such an exercise of spirit a virtuous act? It may be virtuous, or it may be vicious. In this element, considered in itself, there is no more virtue or vice than in appetite considered in itself. It is again a question of how this particular act of this particular side of our nature stands related to the self as a whole. What does reason say? If I send this cook away, shall I be a long while without any; and after much vexation probably put up with another not half so good? Will my household be thrown into confusion? Will hospitality be made impossible? Will the working power of the members of my household be impaired by lack of well-prepared, promptly served food? In the present state of this servant problem, all these things and worse are quite likely to happen. Consequently reason declares in unmistakable terms that the interests of the self as a whole demand the retention of the cook. But it galls and frets our spirit to keep this impertinent, disobedient servant, and hear her irritating words, and see her aggravating behaviour. Never mind, reason says to the spirited element in us. The spirit is not put into us in order that it may have a good time all by itself on its own account. It is put into us to protect and promote the interests of the self as a whole. You must bear patiently with the incidental failings of your cook, and return soft answers to her harsh words; because in that way you will best serve that whole self which your spirit is given you to defend. In ninety-nine cases out of a hundred a quarrel with a cook, on such grounds, in present conditions, would be prejudicial to the interests of the self as a whole. It is the sacrifice of the whole to the part; which as we saw in the case of appetite is the essence of all vice. Only in this case the vice would be, not intemperance, but cowardice, inability to bear a transient, trifling pain patiently and bravely for the sake of the self as a whole.