 The third point that Reid makes is that “a steady pursuit of our own good may, in an enlightened mind, produce a kind of virtue which is entitled to some degree of approbation, yet it can never produce the noblest kind of virtue, which claims our highest love and esteem” (EAP III.iii.iv: 165). So, Reid’s view is not that a concern for one’s own well-being is crass egoism or self-centeredness. To the contrary, there is something admirable about it; to pursue one’s own well-being properly requires virtue. For example, if concern for one’s self is such that it helps one to discount temptations to a life of ease, leisure, or frivolity, then it is much to be admired (cf. EAP III.iii.iv: 165; but also cf. EAP V.vi: 272). That said, to be genuinely dedicated to the moral life, one cannot grant motivational primacy to one’s good on the whole. For our esteem, Reid writes, “is due only to the man whose soul is not contracted within itself, but embraces a more extensive object: who loves virtue, not for her dowry only, but for her own sake: whose benevolence is not selfish, but generous and disinterested” (EAP III.iii.iv: 166). For Reid, then, virtue requires caring not only about particular persons (they are, according to Reid, the objects of benevolence), but also about virtue itself. Being virtuous requires being committed to the idea that the moral life is, in and for itself, worth living. It is not to be made subordinate to considerations about one’s well-being.