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In a Natural Alpliabet. 12mo, cloth/ 2 THE NICOMACHEAN ETHICS ARISTOTLE, A NEW TRANSLATION, MAINLY FROM THE TEXT OF BEKKER. WITH EXPLANATORY NOTES. DESIGNED FOR THE ASSISTANCE OF STUDENTS IN THE UNIVERSITIES. REV. Df Pr CHASE, M.A. FELLOW OF ORIEL COLLEGE- OXFORD, WILLIAM graham; WHITTAKER AND CO. LONDON. 1847. BAXTER, PRINTER, OXFORD, PREFACE. It has been admirably said % "that Translation in itself is a problem, how, two languages being given, the nearest approximation may be made in the second to the expression of ideas a,lready conveyed through the medium of the first. The problem almost starts with the assumption, that something must be sacrificed, and the chief question is, wha,t is the least sacrifice ?" If this be accepted, it would seem that a Trans- lator may fairly wish to direct, though not to deprecate, criticism, by stating what end he has borne in view. My object then, in the present work, is to assist two classes of Students : those to whom the text itself of the Ethics presents difficulties, and those who may need an interpreter of its meaning. To effect the first of these purposes, I have endeavoured to translate closely, without merely construing. With a view to the second, I have attempted so to translate, that each passage should commit itself to some definite view of the meaning of the original. » Newman. Preface to the Chuith of the Fathers. iv PREFACE. For the sake of simplicity, I have, as far as possible, rendered the Greek terms always by the same English ones, conceiving that what might be lost in elegance would be more than compensated by clearness and intelligibleness. I have assumed throughout, that the original work is of a colloquial, and not stiff and formal, character. The notes which are subjoined are intended to explain Aristotle's statements, but not to enter upon any discussion of them. I have principally endea- voured to avoid encumbering with help. Should I be found to have erred occasionally in that direction, I am inclined rather to claim indulgence, on the ground of general self-denial, than to extenuate occasional excursiveness. The division of Chapters will be found not to correspond exactly with that of Bekker's text; the reason it is hoped will appear in each ease. The references to the Greek text are made in (accordance with the arrangement of it by Bekker. D. P. C. Oxford, June 3, 1847. CONTENTS. BOOK I. Chap. I. Introductory. 1. The purpose of the treatise. 2. Cautions to the Student. 3. Bequisites in the Student. \ Fage 1 II. An enumeration of various opinions concerning the Chief Good— a digression on the mode of reasoning to he adopted, ^d the necessity of training for the perception of moral truths, y \ \ 6 III. A short discussion of four theories as heing most currSilu and a longer one of Plato's doctrine of I'Ssm. \ \ ^ 17. Happiness is shown to possess two.characteristics ot the (Chief G-ood, Inclusiveness of all other Ends, and being inits^ Sufficient. \ 16 T. Happiness defined. Bepetinon of cautioli^ as to the Wthod of proceeding. / T"" I \ ^^ VI. The definition of Happiness already attained tested,' by a comparison with the commonly received opinions on the subject. VII. What is the Source ofYHaJipiness ? VIII. The real relation between Happiness and taken as a text. IX. On the Belation of the Bead to {h^ Living. Fortune. 26 Solon's dictum 28 33 ana a 34 division of Excellence 36 X. Whether Happiness is to; he reckoned among things praiseworthy or precious. . XI. An analysis of the Sotil of Man, accordingly. \ booIk; II. I. That Moral Virtue is produced By a succession of right actions. 42 II. The Standard and Bule of rij ht action. How the perfect formation of 'habits may he tested. Virtue is s hown to have pleasure and paiil for its object matter. 45 ■ • III. An objection to the foregoing, account of the' formation of Moral •Virtue, with its answer. / 60 "' IV. What is the Genus of Virtuf. 62 ■ v. Whatis the differentia of Virtue. 54 ' VI. Notes on the Definition of Virtue thus obtained. 5? » ; -VII. The application of this definition to particular instances. 69 - VlII. Of the various degrees of opposition between the faulty and the right states in each Virtue. 64 IX. The practical application of the Book. 66 vi CONTENTS. BOOK III. I. Of Involuntary Actions : first, of compulsory. fO II. Of the second kind of Involuntary Actions. By reason of Ignorance. 7i III. Voluntary Action defined. Actions which are caused by Anger or Lust are not therefore involuntary. 77 IV. On Moral Choice. 78 V. Of Deliberation. 81 VI. Of Wish. 86 VII. On the Free Agency of Man. 88 VIII. Recapitulation of points settled respecting Moral Virtue. 93 IX. The Moral Virtues described in detail. First, of Courage. 94 X. Courage continued. 96 XI. Of the Spurious or Imperfect forms of Courage. 99 XII. Additional Notes upon Courage. 104 XIII. Of Perfected Self-Mastery. 106 XIV. A comparison between Cowardice and absence of Self-Control, and some further notes upon the latter, and the kindred virtue. 112 BOOK IV. I. Of Liberality. 115 II. Of the Extremes. 120 Illi ^Magnificence. 124 IV. Of Great-mindedness. 128 V. Of the Extremes. 135 VI. Of Love of Honour. 136 VII. Of Meekness. 137 VIII. Of Friendliness. 141 IX..OfTruthiuhiess. 143 X. Of Jocularity. 146 XI. Of Shame. 149 BOOK V. I. Prefatory remarks. The different senses of Justice ascertained from those of Injustice. 151 II. Of Justice in that sense in which it is coextensive with Virtue. 154 III. That there is particular Injustice, and therefore particular Justice. 156 IV. The Justice coextensive with Virtue is dismissed from further con- sideration. 15g V. The division of Particular Justice into two species. 160 VI. That Distributive Justice implies four proportional terms. 160 VII. Of Corrective Justice, I63 ■VIII. Of the way in which Eeciprocation enters into Justice. 167 IX. On Justice and Injustice. 173 X. On the Just in domestic Relations : a, notice of the Sophists' notions respecting the Just. ^^^ XI. Of the distinctions between Unjust facts. Unjust actions, and In- justice as a confirmed habit. I^g XII. Can a man be unjustly dealt with willingly .» 183 CONTENTS. vii XIII. In a case of unfair distribution is the receiver or distributor in fault P 186 'XIV. Whether acting Justly and Unjustly is quite within our own power? 187 XV. Of Equity. 189 XVI. Can a man deal Unjustly by himself? 191 XVII-. Supplementary questions. 193 BOOK VI, I. Prefatory! 195 II. Division of the Intellect into two distinct parts. The function of each determined. 196 III. The Excellences of the Intellectual or Rational Part of the Soul enumerated. The first slightly discussed. 200 IV. Of Art. 203 V. Of Practical Wisdom. 205 VI. Of Intuition. 209 VII. Of Science, in itself, and in relation to Practical Wisdom. 209 VIII. Additional notes upon Practical Wisdom. 212 IX. Of Good Counsel. 217 ' X. Of Judiciousness and Tmfun, 220 XI. Of the coincidence of the faculties of Practical Wisdom, Practical Intuition, Judiciousness, and rra/tu. 222 XII. Objections to the usefulness of these Intellectual Excellences. The Answers. A fuller description and ansUysis of Practical Wisdom, 226 Appendix on Wigrnitti, from!. Post. Analyt. chap.l. and 2. 232 BOOK VII. I. Prefatory. 234 II. Questions raised, and slightly discussed. 237 III. Of the object-matter of Self-Control. Of the nature of the con- viction against which the man of Imperfect Self-Control acts. 240 IV. Of the character designated simply by the term " Of Imperfect Self- Control" Of those so designated, with the addition of the particular Object-Matter. 246 V. Of the Brutish states. 251 VI. Imperfect Self-Control (simply), compared with Imperfect Self- Contiol in respect of Anger. 253 VII. An enumeration and description of the various characters, (taking in the idea of pains as well as pleasures.) 256 VIII. Of the relation which Stedfastness in Opinion, and the contrary, bear to Self-Control and Imperfect Self-Control respectively. 262 IX. Notes additional and supplementary. Points IV and VI touched upon. 264 BOOK VIII. I. Introductory. Reasons for introducing a dissertation on Friendship into this Treatise, 268 II. A statement of various opinions respecting Friendship. 270 III. Ofthe object-matter of Friendship, 271 Tiii CONTENTS. IV. Of the Imperfection of the Friendships based on the motives of Expediency and Pleasure. 273 V. On the perfections of the Friendship based on virtue, and the Im- perfections of the other two kinds. 276 VI. On the method of sustaining Friendship. 279 VII. Eepetitlon of some remarks. Supplementary remarks on the same subject. 280 VIII. Of Friendship between parties who are unequal. 283 IX. The Eelation between Justice and Friendship. 289 X. Of the TarioQS forms of Political Constitutions, and their types in Domestic life. 291 XI. The Correlativenees of Friendship and Justice. 294 XII. Of the Friendships whose basis is blood-relationship. 296 XIII. Of disputes arising in the Friendship because of advantage, with a solution of the questions raised. 299 XIV. Of the disputes arising in Friendships between unequal parties. 303 BOOK IX. I. Cases of complaint in Friendships between parties dissimilar. Who has the right of fixing the rate of the return to be made. 306 II. Cases of comparative obligations put, and partially solved. 309 III. What circumstances cause the breaking up of Friendships, allowably or otherwise — Cases put. 312 IV. The feelings of true Friendship are transferred from Self to others. The different feelings of the good and bad men respectively towards Self, described. 315 V. Of Kindly Feeling. 319 VI. Of Unity of Sentiment. 321 VII. The difference of feeling in Benefactors, and in the objects of their kindnesses, stated and accounted for. 323 VIII. Of Self Love. 326 IX. Whether the Happy man will need Friends .' 330 X. Of the number of friends which it is possible and desirable to have. 335 XI. In what circumstances of fortune are friends most needed. 337 XII. Intimacy the chief object of Friendship. Its effect on the good and the bad respectively. 339 BOOK X. I. Introductory. 341 II. The opinions of Eudoxus, and others, stated and discussed. 342 III. That Pleasure is a " whole," and so distinguished from any kind of Movement. 349 IV. Aristotle's own account of Pleasure. 362 V. A recapitulation of former statements respecting Happiness. 359 VI. That Happiness consists, primarily, in the Working of Pure Intellect ; secondarily, in that of the other Excellences. 362 VII. External prosperity, how far necessary to Happiness, 369 VIII. Introductory to the Politics. 371 CORRIGENDA. TEXT. Page 52. line 8. for ever read even 73. 10. for compeller read compellee 80. 2. for which, read which 97. 4. for also to the read also the 1 13. 1 . for less voluntary read voluntary 143. 2. for equahle read agreeable 160. 18. for slaves read slaves, 176. 23. for large read larger 194. 15. for irrational read irrational" 375. 26. for individual read individual 376. 25. for many redd may NOTES. 61. second note, " omitted. 194. for Spc^ews read 6pe§e must begin with that '' I inclose this passage in brackets, as clearly interrupting the thread of the discourse. " 'li-pxh is a word used in this treatise in variotis significations. The pritnary one is " beginning or first cause," and this runs through all its various uses. " Rule," and sometimes " Rulers," are denoted by this term ; the initiative being a property of Rule. " Principle" is a very usual signification of it, and in fact the most characteristic of the Ethics. The word Principle means " starting point." Ev6ry action has two beginnings, that of Resolve, (o5 hem,) and that of Action, (oflei/ ^ Kivfjo-is.) I desire ptaise of men : this then is the beginning of Resolve. Having considered how it is to be attained, I resolve upon some course, and this Resolve is the beginning of Action. The beginnings of Resolve, 'A.pxa\ or Motives, when formally - stated, are the major premisses of what Aristotle calls the s. I have translated them without reference to their use elsewhere, as denoting respectively what is and what may be known. All truth is yui>ptp.ov dirXas, hut that alone fnuv which we individually realize, therefore those principles alone are yvapijui rjpXv which we have received as true. From this appears immediately the necessity of good training as preparatory to the study of Moral Philosophy : for good training in habits will either work principles into our nature, or make us capable of accepting them so soon as they are put before us ; which no mere intellectual training can do. The child who has been used to obey his parents may never have heard the fifth Commandment : but it is in the very texture of his nature, and the first time he hears it he will recognise it as morally true and right : the principle is in his case a fact, the reason for which he is as little inclined to ask as any one would be able to prove its truth if he should ask. But these terms are employed elsewhere, (Analytica Post. I. cap. ii. sect. 10.) to denote respectively particulars and universals. The latter are so denominated, because principles or laws must be supposed to have existed before the instances of their operation. Justice must have existed before just actions. Redness before red things : but since what we meet with are the concrete instances, (from which we gather the principles and laws,) the particulars are said to be yvcopLfJuiiTepa fipXv. Adopting this signification gives greater unity to the whole passage, which will then stand thus. The question being whether we are to assume principles, or obtain them by an analysis of facts, Aristotle says, " We must begin of course with what is known : but then this term denotes either particulars or universals : perhaps we then must begin with particulars : and hence the necessity of a previous good training in habits, &c. (which of course is beginning with particular facts,) for a fact is a starting-point, and if this be sufficiently clear, there will be no want of the reason for the fact in addition." The objection to this method of translation is, that apxai. Occurs immediately afterwards in the sense of principles. Utere tuo judicio nihil enim impedio. CHAP. III. ETHICS. 9 Hence the necessity that he should have been But moral well trained in habits, who is to study, with anyoL"ybe^° tolerable chance of profit, the principles of noble- them^mT- ness and justice and moral philosophy generally. '°*°' For a principle is a matter of fact, and if the fact is sufficiently clear to a man, there will be no need in addition of the reason for the fact. And he that has been thus trained either has principles who either -I -I ■ J 1 •1 n 1 ' has or is already, or can receive them easily : as tor him ready to who neither has nor can receive them, let him heart^°^y® his sentence from Hesiod ; He is liest of all who of himself conceiveth all things; Good again is he too who can adopt a good suggestion; But whoso neither of himself conceivelh nor hearing from another Layeth it to heart; — he is a useless man.] CHAP. HI. A short discussion of four theories as heing most current, and a longer one of Plato's doctrine of SUt. But to return from this digression. Now of the Chief Good and of Happiness men Three seem to form their notions from the different the chief modes of hfe, as we might naturally expect : the formed many and most low conceive it to be pleasure, andp™^^f^^f* hence they also like the life of sensual enjoyment, j^^.^^^ For there are three lines of life which stand out prominently to view : that just mentioned, and the life in society, and, thirdly, the life of contempla- tion. Now the many are plainly quite slavish, choosing ^^ from ^^^ a life like that of brute animals : yet they obtain ^life?"* some consideration, because many of the great 10 ARISTOTLE'S BOOK I. life in So. oiety, Honour. Too de- Not final. From the share the tastes of Sardanapalus. The refined and active again conceive it to be honour: for this may be said to be the end of the life in society : yet it is plainly too superficial for the object of our search, because it is thought to rest with those who pay rather than with him who receives it, whereas the Chief Good we feel instinctively must be something which is our own, and not easily to be taken from us. And besides, men seem to pursue honour, that they may believe themselves to be good^: for instance, they seek to be honoured by the wise, and by those among whom they are known, and for virtue : clearly then, in the opinion at least of these men, virtue is higher than honour. In truth, one would be much more inclined to think this to Virtue not be the end of the life in society ; yet this itself is by itself, plainly too imperfect : for it is conceived possible, that a man possessed of virtue might sleep or be inactive all through his fife, or as a third case, suffer the greatest evils and misfortunes : and the man who should live thus no one would call happy, except for mere disputation's sake ^. And for these let thus much suffice, for they have been treated of at sufficient length in my Encyclia'. 8 Or " prove themselves good," as in the Prior Analytics, ii. 25. &iravTa Tnarivofiev K. t. X. but the Other rendering is supported by a passage in book viii. chap. 9. oi 8' hrh tS>v inieiKStv kv Xeydrrcoi' Koitrci. '' 6eM^ain, the notion of one Universal Good, (the Plato's 4sli^, that is, in all things,) it is better perhaps we ^°^' should examine, and discuss the meaning of it, though such an enquiry is unpleasant, because they are fngjafls of ours who haje introduced these elBTj "'. ' !§till perhaps it may appear better, nay, to phUoso- be our duty where the safety of the truth is con-^etTsWe' cemed, to upset if need be even our own theories, jelJ^gg, specially as we are lovers of wisdom : for since ■* It is only quite at the close of the ti-eatise that Aristotle refers to this, and allows that Beapla constitutes the highest happiness, because it is the exercise of the highest faculty in man: the reason of thus deferring the statement being that till the lower, that is, the moral nature has been reduced to perfect order, Seapia cannot have place; though, had it been held out from tlie first, men would have been for inaking the experiment at once, without the trouble of self-discipline. ' Or, as some think, " many theories have been founded on them." " The ISea is the archetype, the etSos the concrete thing em- bodying the resemblance of it ; hence Aristotle alludes to the theory under both names, and this is the reason for retaining the Greek terms. 12 ARISTOTLE'S book i. both are dear to us, we are bound to prefer the First ob- truth. Now they who invented this doctrine of jeotion. ^,,^^^ ^^ ^^^ ^^^^^ .^ ^^ ^^^^ things in which they spoke of priority and posteriority, and so they never made any ISea of numbers ; but good is pre- dicated in the categories of Substance, Quahty, and Relation ; now that which exists of itself, i. e. Sub- stance, is prior in the nature of things to that which is relative, because this latter is an off-shoot, as it were, and result of that which is ; on their own principle then there cannot be a common idea in the case of these. Second ob- In the next place, since good is predicated in as many ways as there are modes of existence, [for it is predicated in the category of Substance, as God, Intellect — and in that of Quality, as The Virtues — > and in that of Quantity, as The Mean-^-and in that of Relation, as The Useful — and in that of Time, as Opportunity — and in that of Place, as Abode ; and other such like things,} it manifestly cannot be something common and universal and one in all : else it wo'uld not have been predicated in all the categories, but in one only. Third ob- Thirdly, since those things which range under one idea are also under the cognizance of one science, there would have been, on their theory, only one science taking cognizance of all goods collectively : but in fact there are many even for those w^hich range under one category : for in- stance, of Opportunity or Seasonableness, (which I have before mentioned as being in the category of Time,) the science is, in war, generalship ; in disease, medical science ; and of the Mean, (which I quoted before as being in the category of Quan- jeotion. CHAP. III. ETHICS. 13 tity,) in food, the medical science ; and in labour or exercise, the gymnastic science, A person There is no might fairly doubt also what in the world theyencehe-^'^' mean by very-this that or the other, since, as they Retype would themselves allow, the account of the hu-^°''°°py- manity is one and the same in the very-Man, and in any individual Man : for so far as the individual and the very-Man are both Man, they will not differ at all : and if so, then very-good and any particular good will not differ, in so far as both are good. Nor will it do to say, that the eternity of the very-good makes it to be more good ; for what has lasted white ever so long, is no whiter than what lasts but for a day. No. The Pythagoreans do seem to give a more The Py- credible account of the matter, who place " One " soSrof among the goods in their double list of goods and* ^p°'"*" bads": which philosophers, in fact, Speusippus" seems to have followed. But of these matters let us speak at some other time. Now there is plainly a loophole to object to The oh- what has been advanced, on the plea that the i^jate™ that theory I have attacked is not by its advocates j^pg^^g^j applied to aU good: but those gpods only are |°.<«i»^are spoken of as being under one idea, which are™dero°e pursued and desired simply for their own sakes : whereas those things which have a tendency to ° The list ran thus ; — TO nepas TO aareipov TO evdv TO KapTTvXoV TO irepitTiTov TO SpTiov t6 5>s TO (TKOTOS rblv TO irXriSos TO TCTpayavov TO cTfpoprjKes TO 'Se^iov rh dpia-repov TO TJpfpOVV TO Kivovfievov T& appev ' TO ff!]Kv TO dyaB6v TO KOKOV " Plato's sister 's son. 14 ARISTOTLE'S book i. produce or preserve them in any way, or to hinder their contraries, are called good because of these circumstances, and after another fashion. It is manifest then that the goods may be so called in two senses, the one class for their own sakes, the other because of these. Very well then, let us separate the independent goods from the instrumental, and see whether they are spoken of as under one I8ia. But the question What are next arises, what kind of goods are we to call inde- pendent' pendent? All such as are pursued even when goods ? separated from other goods, as, for instance, being ynse, seeing, and certain pleasures and honours ? (for these though we do pursue them with some further end in view, one would still place among Eithernonethe independent goods;) or does it come in fact to nia; this, that we can call nothing independent good except the I8ia, and so the concrete of it will be nought ? orfiuchthat ^^> on the othcr hand, there are independent rangeunder^°^^^' then wc shall require tiat the account of one ti'w. the goodness be the same clearly in all, just as that of the whiteness is in snow and white lead. But how stands the fact ? Why of honour and ' isdom and pleasure the accounts are distinct and different in so far as they are good. The Chief Good then is not something common, and after one i8ea. ■, How then ^^^ then, how does the name come to be com- can the mon, (for it is not seemingly a case of fortuitous he ac- eqmvocation.) Are different individual things called "' good by virtue of being from one source, or all con- ducing to one end, or rather by way of analogy, for that intellect is to the soul as Ught to the body, and so on ? However, perhaps we ought to leave common name countedfor? CHAP. III. ETHICS. 15 these questions now, for an accurate investigation The quea- of them is more properly the business of a different peninmTto philosophy. And likewise respecting the IBea : fn hand"^' for even if there is some one good predicated in^^'',^",*''® common of aU things that are good, or separable *"■;»« "ftiie and capable of existing independently, manifestly teing„„. it cannot be the object of human action or attain- p'^^^"''"*' '^ able by Man ; but we are in search now of some- thing that is so P. It may readily occur to any one, that it would Objection, be better to attain a knowledge of it with a viewthoughitseif to such concrete goods as are attainable and prac-™ie''it°" tical, because, with this as a kind of model in ourP'^iitgaiiJe ' ' m theselee- hands, we shall the better know what things aretio°a°iiat- 1 „ .,..,„ 11 1 tamment of good tor us mdividually, and when we know them, concrete we shall attain them. ^°° Some plausibihty, it is true, this argument pos-^°^^™' sesses, but it is contradicted by the facts of the practice of m6D is Arts and Sciences; for all these thotigh aiming atagainattHs some good, and seeking that which is deficient, yet pretermit the knowledge of it : now it is not exactly probable that all artizans without exception should be ignorant of so great a help as this would be, and not even look after it ; neither is it easy to see Snpposiiig wherein a weaver or a carpenter will be profited Lw would in respect of his craft by knowing the very-good, ii^aiifuse"- or how a man will be the more apt to effect cures ^°^^ or to command an army for having seen the Idea P Thi? is the capital defect in Aristotle's eyes, who heing emi- nently practical, could not like a. theory which not only did not necessarily lead to action, but had a tendency to discourage it by enabling unreal men to talk finely. If true, the theory is merely a way of stating facts, and leads to no action. 16 ARISTOTLE'S b"ok i- itself. For manifestly it is not health after this general and abstract fashion which is the subject of the physician's investigation, but the health of Man, or rather perhaps of this or that man; for he has to heal individuals.— Thus much on these points. CHAP. IV. Happiness is shown to possess two characteristics of the Chief Good, Inclusiveness of all other Ends, and being in itself Sufficient. The End And now let us revert to the Good of which we &?od'rfac-are in search: what can it be? for manifestly it is li^^yroo- different in diflFerent actions and arts: for it is incident, different in the healing art and in the art mili- tary, and similarly in the rest. What then is the Chief Good in each ? Is it not " that for the sake of which the. other things are done?" and this in the healing art is health, and in the art military victory, and in that of house-building a house, and in any other thing something else ; in short, in every action and moral choice the End, because in all cases men do every thing else with a view to this. So that if there is some one End of all things which are and may be done, this must be the Good proposed by doing, or if more than one, then these. Thus our discussion after some traversing about has come to the same point which we reached before. And this we must try yet more to clear up. ^°finam" ^^^ since the ends are plainly many, and of i. e. in in- these we choose some with a view to others, (money eluding or „ . . , . , , , . ^ •'' being in- lor instauce, musical mstruments, and, m general eluded in o j other Ends, CHAP. IV. ETHICS. 17 all instruments,) it is clear that all are not final : but the Chief Good is manifestly some thing final ; and "so, if there is some one only which is final, this must be the object of our search : but if several, then the most final of them will be it. Now that which is an object of pursuit in itself There are we call more final than that which is so with a 5X3 of' view to something else; that again which is never *'''**"*''*^' an object of choice with a view to something else than those which are so both in themselves and with a view to this ulterior object : and so by the term " absolutely final," we denote that which is an object of choice always- in itself, and never with a view to any other. And of this nature Happiness is mostly thought to Happiness be, for this we choose always for its own sake, and Juteiy I-' never with a view to any thing further: whereas "^'•" honour, pleasure, intellect, in fact every excellence we choose for their own sakes, it is true, (because we would choose each of these even if no result were to follow,) but we choose them also with a view to happiness, conceiving that through their instru- mentality we shall be happy : but no man chooses happiness with a view to them, nor in fact with a view to any other thing whatsoever. The same result '' is seen to follow also firom the it is also » notion of self-sufficiency, a quality thought tofiofent?" belong to the final good. Now by sufficient fofseif-suf- Self, we mean not for a single individual living a^\l^^^^' solitary life, but for his parents also and children and wife, and, in general, friends and countrymen ; for man is by nature adapted to a social existence. But of these, of course, some limit must be fixed ; « i. e. the identification of Happiness with the Chief Good. 18 ARISTOTLE'S book i. for if one extends it to parents and descendants and friends' friends, there is no end to it. This point, however, must be left for future investigation : and defined, for the present we define that to be self-sufficient " which taken alone makes life choice-worthy, and to be in want of nothing ;" and of such kind we Happiness think HappiuBSS to be : and further, to be most of add?«on^ choice-worthy of all things not being reckoned identieli with any other thing', for if it were so reckoned, it Chief GTOd.^^ plain we must then allow it, with the addition of ever so small a good, to be more choice-worthy than it was before' : because what is put to it becomes an addition of so much more good, and of goods the greater is ever the more choice-worthy. So then Happiness is nianifestly something final and self-sufficient, being the end of all things which are and may be done. CHAP. V. Happiness defined. Repetition of cautions as to tlie method of proceeding. But, it may be, to call Happiness the Chief Good is a mere truism, and what is wanted is some clearer account of its real nature. Now this The nature object may be easily attained, when we have dis- ness is to he covered what is the work of man ; for as in the ' i. e. without the capability of addition. ' And then Happiness would at once be shewn not to be the Chief Good. It is a contradiction in terms to speak of adding to the Chief Good. See Book x. chap. 2. S^Xoy &s oiS' SKKo oiSh rayaOAv &v euj 6 ^sto twos tSv Kaff aM dyaSSv aiperaiTefmv yivtrm. CHAP. V. ETHICS. 19 case of flute-player, statuary, or artizan of any determined kind, or, more generally, all who have any work or woS 0/ course of action, their Chief Good and Excellence '"*"• is thought to reside in their work, so it would seem to be with man, if there is any work belonging to him. Are we then to suppose, that while carpenter Man is and cobbler have certain works and courses ofLvrawort, action, Man as Man has none, but is left bygfJexto- Nature without a work ? or would not one rather "^'^I"^'"" ternal. hold, that as eye, hand, and foot, and generally each of his members, has manifestly some special work ; so too the whole Man, as distinct from all these, has some work of his own' ? What then can this be ? not mere life, because what this that plainly is shared with him even by vegetables, ' and we want what is peculiar to him. We must separate oflF then the life of mere nourishment and growth, and next will come the life of sensation : but this again manifestly is common to horses, oxen, and every animal. There remains then a what.it is, — ^ TIZ 3 lift" kind of life of the Rational Nature apt to act: of the and of this Natiu-e there .are two parts de-NatureT' nominated Rational, the one as being obedient to Reason, the other as having and exerting it. Again, as this life is also spoken of in two ways ", we must take that which is in the way of actual actuaUy at working, because this is thought to be most ' properly entitled to the name. If then the work of Man is a working of the soul in accordance with reason, or at least not independently of ' Compare Bishop Butler's account of " Human Nature as a System" in the Preface to his Sermons. ° i. e. as working or as quiescent. 20 ARISTOTLE'S book i. reason, and we say that the work of any given subject, and of that subject good of its kind, are the same in kind, (as, for instance, of a harp- player and a good harp-player, and so on in every case, adding to the work eminence in the way of excellence ; I mean, the work of a harp-player is to play the harp, and of a good harp-player to play it well;) if, I say, this is so, and we assume the work of Man to be life of a certain kind, that is to say, a working of the soul and actions with reason, and of a good man to do these things well and nobly, and in fact every thing is finished off well in the way of the excellence which peculiarly belongs to it : if all this is so, then the Good of and work- Man comes to be a working of the Soul in the Spos-^ way of Excellence, or, if Excellence admits of sibie way, ^ggj.ggg^ jjj t]^g ^g^y ^f ^jjg jjgg^ ^^^ most perfect Excellence. with time And we must add, h Bia reXei'©"; for as it is stances uot oue swallow or one fine day that makes a complete, gpj,jjjg^ g^ j^ jg ^^^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^ ^ ^j^^^^ ^.^^^ ^^^^ makes a man blessed and happy. This IS a Let this then be taken for a rough sketch of the Setoh. Chief Good : since it is probably the right way to give first the outline, and fill it in afterwards. And it would seem that any man may improve and connect what is good in the sketch, and that time is a good discoverer and cooperator in such matters : it is thus in fact that all improveiftents ' The mere translation of this term would convey no idea of its meaning, I have therefore retained the Greek term. It is afterwards explained to include space of time and external appliances requisite for the full development of Man's energies ; here the time only is alluded to. CHAP. V. ETHICS. 21 in the various arts have been* brought about, for any man may fill up a deficiency. You must remember also what has been already Former stated, and not seek for exactness in all matters peaS"*' ahke, but in each according to the subject-matter, and so far as properly belongs to the system. The carpenter and geometrician, for instance, enquire into the right line in different fashion : the former so far as he wants it for his work, the latter enquires into its nature and properties, because he is concerned with the truth. So then should one do in other matters, that the incidental matters may not exceed the direct ones. And again, you must not demand the reason Some state- either in all things alike", because in some it isZ^^g^l^ sufficient that the fact has been well denionstrated> "eptedwith. ' out proof. which is the case with first principles ; and the fact is the first step, i. e. starting-point or principle. And of these first principles some are obtained Principiea by induction, some by perception*, some by atalned; course of habituation, others in other different ways. And we must try to trace up each in their own nature, and take pains to secure their being well defined, because they have great influence on their great what follows : it is thought, I mean, that tjjg''"P°f'»°''«' starting-point or principle is more than half the whole matter, and that many of the points of enquiry come simultaneously into view thereby. " This principle is more fully stated, with illustrations, in the Topics, I. chap. ix. ' Either that of the hodily senses, or that of the moral sense. " Fire bums," is an instance of the former; " Treason is odious," of the latter. 22 ARISTOTLE'S book i. CHAP. YL The definition of Happiness already attained tested, by a comparison with the commonly received opinions on the subject. We must now enquire concerning Happiness, not only from our conclusion and the data on which our reasoning proceeds, but likewise from what is commonly said about it : because with what is true all things which really are are in harmony, but with that which is false the true very soon jars. Our de- Now there is a common division of goods into in°with that three classes; one being called external, the other external" two those of the soul and body respectively, and gJ'°^g^j'Ug'' those belonging to the soul we call most properly mental the and Specially good. Well, in our definition we assume that the actions and workings of the soul constitute Happiness, and these of course belong to the soul. And so our account is a good one, at least according to this opinion which is of ancient date, and accepted by those who profess philosophy. Rightly too are certain actions and workings said to be the end, for thus it is brought into the number of the goods of the soul instead of and with the external. Agreeing also with our definition is common ^ • i i i phrase- the commou notion, that the happy man lives well s°pe!«ng' and does well, for it has been stated by us to be Happiness, pretty puch a kind of hving well and doing well. Further, it And further, the points required in Hanniness combines « j . ^.• j^- ■ "" all requi- are tound m combmation m our. account of it. For some think it is virtue, others practical sites as CHAP. VI. ETHICS. , 23 wisdom, others a kind of scientific philosophy ; contained others that it is these, or else some one of them, opintonTe- ,in combination with pleasure, or at least not jn-"""'^''*'*''' dependently of it ; while others again take in ex- ternal prosperity. Of these opinions, some rest on the authority resting on oi numbers or antiqmty, others on that oi tew, andthority,and those men of note : and it is not likely that either probaSy^ of these classes should be wrong in all points, but^*°„Vor^^' be right at least in some one, or even in most. *'^""'- Now with those who assert.it to be Virtue, (Ex- ist, virtue cellence,) or some kind of Virtue, our account lenoej agrees : for working in the way of Excellence siu-ely belongs to Excellence. And there is perhaps no unimportant difference saiy, a between conceiving of the Chief Good as in pos- not a mere • ,1 J state or session or as m use, m other words, as a merehaWt; state or as a working. For the state or habit ^ may possibly exist in a subject without effecting any good, as, for instance, in him who is asleep, or in any other way inactive ; but the working cannot so, for it will of necessity act, and act well. And as at the Olympic games it is not the finest and strongest men who are crowned, but they who enter the hsts, for of these some conquer ; so too in Ufe, of the honourable and the good, it is they who act who rightly win the prizes'. y I have thought it worth while to vary the interpretation of this word, hecanse though " habitus" may be equivalent to all the senses ol e^is, " habit" is not, at least according to our colloquial usage : we commonly den6te by " habit" a state formed by habituation. ' Another and perhaps more obvious method of rendering this passage is to apply Ka\S>v KayaBav to things, and let them depend 24 ARISTOTLE'S book i. sure IS in voiced ia our de- finition, 3ctiy. Plea- Their life too is in itself pleasant : for the feeling of pleasure is a mental sensation, and that is to each pleasant of which he is said to be fond : a horse^ for instance, to him who is fond of horses, and a sight to him who is fond of sights : and so in like manner just acts to him who is fond of justice, and more generally the things in accord- ance with virtue to him who is fond of virtue. Now in the case of the multitude of men the things which they individually esteem pleasant clash, because they are not such by nature, whereas to the lovers of nobleness those things are pleasant which are such by nature : but the actions in accordance with virtue are of this kind, so that they are pleasant both to the individuals and also in themselves. So then their life has no need of pleasure as a kind of additional appendage, but involves plea- being in sure in itself. For, besides what I have just separable mentioned, a .man is not a good man at all who trX*v*i°"^ feels no pleasure in noble actions ", just as no man would call that man just who does not feel pleasure in acting justly, or liberal who does not in hberal actions, and similarly in the case of the other grammatically on or^jSoXot. It is to be remembered, howeverj, that KoKAs Kayad&s bore a special and weU-known meaning : also the comparison is in the text more complete, and the point of the passage seems more completely brought out. • " Goodness always implies the love of itself, an affectioii to. goodness." (Bp. Butler, Sermon xiii.) Aristotle describes pleasure in the 10th Book of this Treatise as the result of any facultv of perception meeting with the corresponding object, vicious pleasure being as truly pleasure as the most refined and exalted. If Goodness then implies the love of itself, the percipient vcill always, have its object present, and pleasure continually result. tuous. CHAP. VI. ETHICS. 2^ virtues which might be enumerated : and if this be so, then the actions in accordance with virtue must be in themselves pleasurable. Then again they are certainly good and noble, and each of these in the highest degree ; if we are to take as : right the judgment of the good man, for he judges as we have said. Thus then Happiness is most excellent, most Happiness noble, and most pleasant, and these are nottCgoodt separated, as in the wel^known Delian inscription, aepieasur. able ; " Most noble is that which is most just, but best is health ; And naturally most pleasant is the obtaining one's desires." For all these coexist in the best acts of working : and we say that Happiness is these, or one, that is, the best of them. ''Still it is quite plain that it does require the and thougt addition of external goods, as we have said ; prosperity because without appliances it is impossible, or at ess" nee, yet all events not easy, to do noble - actions : forsa^tolts' friends, money, and political influence are in a^*j^*j®''^^°P- manner instruments whereby many things are done : some things there are again a deficiency in which mars blessedness, good birth, for instance, or fine offspring, or even personal beauty : for he is not at all capable of Happiness who is very ugly, or is ill-born, or solitary and childless : and still less perhaps supposing him to have very bad children or friends, or to have lost good ones by ■" In spite of theory, we know as a matter of fact, that external circumstances are necessary to complete the idea of Happiness: not that Happiness is capable of addition, but that when we assert it to be identical with virtuous action, we must understand that it is to have a fair field ; in fact, the other side of /Si'or rAetoj. 26 ARISTOTLE'S book i. death. As we have said ahready, the addition of prosperity of this kind does seem necessary to complete the idea of Happiness ; hence some rank good fortune, and others virtue, with Happiness. CHAPTER Vn. What is the Source of Happiness ? Does Hap- And hcnce too a question is raised, whether it fromSeSTis a thing that can be learned, or acquired by. Godl^or habituation or discipUne of some other kind, or Ch™nce? whether it comes in the way of divine dispensation, or even in the way of chance. The ques- Now to be sure, if any thing else is a gift of the itrbeinga Gods to men, it is probable that Happiness is a gift iWde^'*' of theirs too, and spe^cially because of all human vant. goods it is the highest. But this, it may be, is a question belonging more properly to an investi- gation different from om"s " : and it is quite clear, that on the supposition of its not being sent from Suppose it the Gods direct, but coming to us by reason of trainfal,^^ virtue and learning and discipline of a certain kind, it is yet one of the most Godlike things; because the prize and End of virtue is manifestly somewhat most excellent, nay divine and blessed. First, it It will also on this supposition be widely parti- ? Mraiiy ^^ cipated, for it may through learning and diligencei shared. ' It is remarkable how Aristotle here again shelves what he considers an unpractical question. If Happiness were really a direct gift from Heaven, independently of human conduct, all motive to self-discipline and moral improvement would vanish. He shews therefore that it is no depreciation of the value of Happiness to suppose it to come partly at least from ourselves, and he then goes on with other reasons why we should think with him. CHAP. VII. ETHICS. 27 of a certain kind exist in all who have not been maimed'' for virtue. And if it is better we should be happy thus thanNext,ifitis as a result- of chance, this is in itself an argument Lr'Siat it that the case is so, because those things which are come ^ in the way of nature, and in hke manner of art, and**^™^"'*'^" every cause, and specially the best cause, are by nature in the best way possible : to leave then to chance, what is greatest and most noble would be very much out of harmony with all these facts". The qiiestion may be determined also by a re-TWrdiy, ference to om- definition of Happiness, which waSjUraimpUes that it is a working of the soul in the way of ex-*'""^*"'"'"' cellence or virtue, of a certain kind : and of the other goods, some we must have to begin with, and those which are cobperative and useful are given by nature as instruments ^ These considerations will harmonize also vdth Fourthly, what we said at the commencement : for we as- End of sumed the End of iroXirtKri to be most excellent : i*"!^™."' now this bestows most care on making the mem- bers of the community of a certain character; good that is and apt to do what is honourable. With good reason then neither ox nor horse nor Nobeingis 1, — ^ jjjjj par- any other brute animal do we call happy, for noncwha^t'^ ^ This term is important; what has been maimed was once perfect: he does not contemplate as possible the case of a man being boril incapable of virtue, and so of happiness. ' ibs .&pa NoCs ea-Tiv 6 buxKO(T}i.&v re Koi liavroiv airios. * * Kai mrj(Tdfi,r]v, el tovto ovtois e^ei t6v ye NoCc Kotrfunmra wavra Koiriietv, Kol eKaa-Tov ndevai TavTy &irrj hv ^ikruTTa exo' " oSv ns ^ovKatTO rrjv alriav evpelv nepl eKo/rrov * * * toOto 8eiv jrepl avTov e'vpelv, Sm) ^ekruTTov aiiTa e(mv K.r.X. Plato. Phsedon. xlvi. ' But whv give materials and instruments, if there is no work' to do ? 28 ARISTOTLE'S book i. takes of of them can partake in such working : and for this loton!' same reason a child is not happy either, because by reason of his tender age he cannot yet perform such actions : if the term is applied, it is by way of anticipation. fiUs rikiiM For to constitute Happiness, there must be, as sa'l-yto''*^" we have said, complete virtue and a fiios reXeios : Happiness. ^^^ many changes and chances of all kinds arise during a life, and he who is most prosperous may become involved in great misfortunes in his old age, as in the heroic poems the tale is told of Priam: but the man who has experienced such fortune and died in wretchedness, no man calls happy. CHAPTER VIII. : The real relation between Happiness and Fortune. Solon's dictum taken as a text. Are we then to call no man happy while he lives, and, as Solon would have us, look to the The dead end ? And again, if we are to maintain this position, our theory is 3, man then happy when he is dead ? or is not positively, this a Complete absurdity, specially in us who say Happiness is a working of a certain kind ? Can they If ou the other hand we do not assert that the tiveiy?^^* dead man is happy, and Solon does not mean this, ^eads'^on ^ut ouly that oue would then be safe in pro- hoM*rr nouncing a man happy, as being thenceforward thei'r''«- °^* ^^ *^® reach of evils and misfortunes, this too lation to the admits of some dispute, since it is thought that the living, tor lit iiip the theories dead has somcwhat both of good and evil, (if as we are various. , n i , , must allow, a man may have when alive but not aware of his troubles,) as honour and dishonour. CHAP. VIII. ETHICS. 29 and good and bad fortune of children and de- scendants generally. Nor is this view again without its difficulties : for after a man has hved in blessedness to old age and died accordingly, many changes may befal him in right of his descendants, and some of them may be good and obtain positions in life accordant to their merits, others again quite the contrary : it is plain too that the descendants may at different intervals or grades stand in all manner of relations to the ancestors*'. Absurd indeed would be the position, that the dead man is to change about with them and become at one time happy and at another miserable. Absurd however it is on the other hand, that the affairs of the descendants should in no degree and during no time affect the ancestors. But we must revert to the point first raised'', since the present question will be easily determined from that. If then we are to look to the end and then if a man , . , maybe said pronounce the man blessed, not as bemg so, but to have as having been so at some previous time, surely ithemig^t"^' is absurd that when he is happy the truth is not to^^7^^\™ be asserted of him, because we are unwilling to^my- « The supposed pair ot ancestors. '' Solon says, " Call no man happy till he is dead." He must mean either. The man when dead is happy (a), or. The man when dead may be said to have been happy (6). If the former, does he mean positive happiness (a) ? or only freedom from unhappines?, 0) ? We cannot allow (a). Men's opinions disallow (/3), We revert now to the consideration of (6). 30 ARISTOTLE'S book i. pronounce the living happy by reason of their KabiUty to changes, and because whereas we have conceived of happiness as something stable and no way easily changeable, the fact is that good and bad fortune are constantly circhng about the same people : for it is quite plain, that if we are to depend upon the fortunes of men, we shall often have to call the same man happy, and a little while after miserable, thus representing oiu" happy man, " Chameleon-like, and based on roitenness." Prosperity Is uot this the solutiou ? that to make our sen- essence of* tence dependent on the changes of fortune, is no Happiness. ^^^ right : for not in them stands the well, or the ill, but though human life needs these as acces- saries, (which we have allowed already,) the work- ings in the way of virtue are what determine Happiness, and the contrary the contrary. Incidental And, by the way, the question which has been tion of the here discussed, testifies incidentally to the truth of correctness j^j^tt ■ i-nj_ n ^ ofourDe- OUT accouut oi Happmess'. ror to none oi human fiuition. ■yyorks does stability attach so much as it does to the workings in the way of virtue, since these are held to be more abiding even than the sciences : and of these last again'' the most precious are the ' The difiSoulty was raised by the clashing of a notion com- monly held, and a fact universally experienced. Most people conceive that Happiness should be abiding, every one knows that fortune is changeable. It is the notion which supports the de- finition, because we have therein based Happiness on the most abiding cause. ^ I have taken rovrav airav to refer to einarjifiav, against Magirus and the Paraphrase of Andronicus Rhodius. I would refer to Aristotle's account of Beap'w. in the Tenth Book, chap. vii. where CHAP. viii. ETHICS, 31 most abiding, because the blessed live in them most, and most continuously, which seems to be the reason why they are not forgotten. So then this stability which is sought will be in the happy man, and he will be such through hfe, since always, or most of all, he will be doing and con- templating the things which are in the way of virtue : and the various chances of life he will bear most nobly, and at all times and in all ways harmoniously, since he is the truly good man, and in the terms of our proverb " a faultless cube." And whereas the incidents of chance are many. Chances and differ in greatness and smallness, the small many''anci pieces of good or ill fortune evidently do notf^gftlj^ affect the balance of Hfe, but the great and'?'"''""'^ •' '-' either way. numerous, if happening for good, will make life more blessed, (for it is their nature to contribute to ornament, and the using of them comes to be noble and excellent,) but if for ill, they bruise as it were and maim the blessedness : for they bring in positive pain, and hinder many acts of working. But still, even in these, nobleness shines through Mischances when ^ man bears contentedly many and great "cLion of mischances, not from insensibihty to pain, but^"rk?n|, because he is noble and high-spirited. of h^pU And if, as we have said, the acts of working are^,^^^^-|.^j^^^_ what determine the character of the life, no one of °ess the blessed caJiever become wretched, because he only from will never do those things which are hateful and^"'^' mean. For the man who is truly good and sensible bears all fortunes, we presmne, becomingly, and always does what is noblest under the circum- he expressly says of the working of vais or pure intellect, that it is " most continuous." 32 ARISTOTLE'S book i. Stances, just as a good general employs to the best advantage the force he has with him ; or a good shoemaker makes the handsomest shoe he can out of the leather which has been given him ; therefore and all other good artizans likewise. And if this mlnlT be SO, wretched never can the happy man come to come'^'" be: I do not mean to say he will be blessed wretched I ghould he fall into fortunes like those of Priam. he is as a Nor, in truth, is he shifting and easily change- w^ght. able, for on the one hand, from his happiness he easuy re- wiU uot be shakcu easily nor by ordinary mis- Sfre!' chances, but, if at all, by those which are great pjaced. and numerous; and, on the other, after such mischances he cannot regain his happiness in a little time ; but, if at all, in a long and complete period, during which he has made himself master of great and noble things. The true Why thcu should we not call happy the man ne"dof ex-who works in the way of perfect virtue, and is ^^^ fiimished with external goods sufficient for acting his part in the drama of life' : and this during no ' The term seems to be employed advisedly. The Choragus, of course, dressed his actors ybr their parts; not according to their fancies or his own. Hooker has (E. P. v. Ixxvi. 5.) a passage which seems to be an admirable paraphrase on this. " Again, that the measure of our outward|^osperily be taken by proportion with that which every man's esuite in this present life requireth. External abilities are instruments of action. It contenteth wise artificers to have tlieir instruments proportionable to their work, rather fit for use than huge and goodly to please the .eye. Seeing then the actions of a servant do not need that which may be necessary for men of calling and place in the world, neither men of inferior condition many things which greater personages can hardly want ; surely they are blessed in worldly respects who CHAP. IX. ETHICS. 33 ordinary period^ but such as constitutes $iof reXeios as we have been describing it. Or must we add, that not only is he to hve so, in calling but his death must be in keeping with such life,^7^^PPy since the futxu-e is dark to us, and Happiness ^e^^^^^^' assume to be in every way an end and complete. ^ *>"' And, if this be so, we shall call them among the so subject living blessed who have and will have the things specified, but blessed as Men'". On these points then let it suffice to have defined thus much. CHAP. IX. On the Eelation of the Dead to the Living. Now that the fortunes of their descendants, and We cannot friends generally, contribute nothing towards form-^^^'^*^™'' ing the condition of the dead, is plainly a very""''™"^ heartless notion, and contrary to the current tion. opinions. But since things which befal are many, and diiFer in aH kinds of ways, and some touch more nearly, others less, to go into minute particular distinctions would evidently be a long and endless task : and so it may suffice to speak generally and in outline. If then, as of the misfortunes which happen to ^he case one's self, some have a certain weight, and turn^^{JjP™j much like have wherewith to perform what their station and place asketh, though they have no more." ■° Always hearing in mind that man " never continueih in one stay." D 34 ARISTOTLE'S book i. thatoffte the balance of life, while others are, so to speak, liTingjWith i-ii_i?in the further hghter; SO it is likewise with those which beial all that"au°° our friends alike ; if further, whether they whom ?etoh them each Suffering befals be alive or dead makes much ve[r^V J^ore difference than in a tragedy the presupposing all sounds qj. actual perpetration of the various horrors, we are dead- '^ '^ enedf must take into our account this difference also; and still more perhaps the doubt concerning the dead, whether they really partake of any good or evil ; it seems to result from all these considerations, that if any thing does- pierce the veil and reach them, be the same good or bad, it must be some- thing trivial and small, either in itself or to them ; or at least of such a magnitude or such a kind as neither to make happy them that are not so otherwise, nor to deprive of their blessedness them that are". ae effect ^^ ^® P^^^" ^^^" *^^* ^^^ g^^d or ill fortunes of on their their fWeuds do affect the dead somewhat : but in scarcely such kind and degree as neither to make the abfe?"°" happy unhappy, nor produce any other such effect. CHAP. X. Whether Happiness is to be reckoned among things praiseworMw, or precious. Having determined these points, let us examine with respect to Happiness, whether it belongs Jo ° The meaning is this : personal Ibrtunes, we have said, must be in certain weight and number to affect our own happiness : this will be true, of course, of those which are reflected ou us from our friends : and these are the only ones to which the dead are supposed to be liable : add then the difference of sensibility which it is fair to presume, and there is a very small residuum of joy or soitow. CHAP. X. ETHICS. 36 .the class of things praiseworthy or things precious ; for to that of faculties^ it evidently does not. Now it is plain that every thing which is a To what subject of praise is praised for being of a certain pritaf is kind, and bearing a certain relation to something *''^^"'*'''®' else : for instance, the just, and the valiant, and generally the good man, and virtue itself, we praise^ because of the actions and the results : and the strong man, and the quick runner, and so forth, we praise for being of a certain nature, and bearing a certain relation to something good and excellent ; (and this is illustrated by attempts to praise the gods; for they are presented in a ludicrous aspect !■ by being referred to our standard, and this results from the fact, that all praise does, as we have said, imply reference to a standa rd.) Now if it is to such objects that praise belongs, it and what is evident that what is applicable to the best beyond f" objects is not praise, but something higher and better : which is plain matter of fact, for not only do we call the gods blessed and happy, but of men also we pronounce those blessed who most nearly resemble the gods. And in Uke manner in respect of goods ; for no man thinks of praising Happiness as he does the principle of justice, but calls it ' This is meant for an exhaustive division of goods, which are either so in esse or in pOsse. If in esse, they are either above praise, or subjects of praise. Those in posse, here called faculties, are good only when rightly used. Thus Rhetoric is a faculty which may be used to promote justice or abused to support villany. Money in like way. f The doubt is, whether en-Mwot or Seal is the subject of the sentence. It is translated as above, not merely with reference to the sense of this passage, but on a comparison with a similar one in Book X. chap. 8. ? yeKoloi ipavovvTCU o-vvaKKaTTOvrts, K, t. \. d2 36 ARISTOTLE'S book t. blessed, as being somewhat more godlike and more excellent. "Eudoxus too is thought to have advanced a sound argument in support of the claim of pleasure to the highest prize : for the fact that, though it is one of the good things, it is not praised, he took for an indication of its superiority to those which are subjects of praise : a superiority he attributed also to a god and the Chief Good, on the ground that they form the standard to which every thing Praise andbesides is referred. For praise applies to virtue, te°differ.'° because it makes men apt to do what is noble; but entiy used, encomia to definite works of body or mind '. However, it is perhaps more suitable to a regular treatise on encomia to pursue this topic with exactness : it is enough for our purpose that Happiness from what has been said it is evident that Happi- - praite™ ^^^ss bclougs to the class of things precious and perfect. And it seems to be so also because of its being a starting-point ; which it is, in that with a view to it we all do every thing else that is done ; and the starting point and cause of good things we assume to be something good and precious. CHAP. XI. An analysis of the Soul of Man, and a division of Excellence accordingly. Excellence MOREOVER, siucc Happiness is a kind of working qJred'into;^^ ^^^ ^°^1 ^" *^® ^^y of perfect Excellence, we ' Eudoxus, a philosopher holding the doctrine afterwards adopted Toy Epicurus respecting pleasure, but (as Aristotle testifies in the 10th Book) of irreproachable character. ' See the Rhetoric, Book I. chap. ix. CHAP. XI. ETHICS. 37 must enquire concerning Excellence: for so first with a probably shall we have a clearer view concerning dlrrtlnd"" Happiness ; and again, he who is really a ttoXitiko^ J^Sfbe!'' is generally thought to have spent most pains on "^^'4^'^''^. this, for he wishes to make the citizens good and'°°f p™- obedient to the laws, (and for examples of this «-"^"-"*- class we have the lawgivers of the Cretans and Lacedaemonians, and whatever such there have been.) But if this investigation belongs properly to TToXiTCKTj, then clearly the enquiry will be in accordance with our original design. Well, we are to enquire concerning Excellence, Human i. e. Human Excellence of course, because it was is ae sX* the Chief Good of Man, and the Happiness of^:^f,Zt Man that we were enquiring of just now. ieiience'of And by Human Excellence we mean, not that of S"*^"™*" Soul. man's body, but that of his soul ; for we call Happiness a working of the Soul. And if this is so, it is plain that some knowledge Hence of the nature of the Soul is necessary for the ua^e of ''" TToXiTiKOf, just as for the oculist a knowledge of fs'needed^ the whole body, and the more so in proportion as^"^,*^.''*' •KoXiTLK-r] is more precious and higher than the heahng art : and in fact physicians of the higher class do busy themselves much with the knowledge of the body. So then the ttoXltlkos is to consider the nature but he is of the Soul : but he must do so with these objects sueit°tor' in view, and so far only as may suffice for the„^oe°y*°° objects of his special enquiry : for to carry his speculations to a greater exactness is perhaps a task more laborious than falls within his province. In fact, the few statements made on the subject statements adopted 38 ARISTOTLE'S book i. from the in my popular treatises are quite enough, and tiSses. accordingly we will adopt them here : as, that the Two parts Soul consists of two parts, the Irrational and the thp one°irl Rational ; (but as to whether these are actually an^fte divided, as are the parts of the body, and every ttonli?*" thing that is capable of division; or are only metaphysically speaking two, being by nature inseparable, as are the convex and concave cir- cumferences, matters not in respect of our present purpose.) And of the Irrational, the one part seems common to other objects, and in fact vegetative ; I mean the cause of nourishment and growth, (for such a faculty of the Soul one would assume to exist in all things that receive noxuish- ment, as in embryos, and this the same as in the perfect creatures ; for this is more hkely than that it should be a different one.) One part Now the Excelleuce of this manifestly is not rational peculiar to the human species, but common to liartoMan. others : (for this part and this faculty is thought to work most in time of sleep, and the good and bad man are least distinguishable while asleep ; whence it is a common saying, that duiiiag one half of life there is no difference between the happy and the wretched ; and this accords with our anticipations, for sleep is an inactivity- of the soul, in so far as it is denominated good or bad, unless if in anywise some of its movements find their way through the veil, and so the good come to have better dreanjs than ordinary men. But enough of this: we must forego any further mention of the nutritive part, since it is not naturally capable of the Excellence which is peculiarly human.) CHAP. SI. ETHICS. 39 And there seems to be another Irrational Nature The other of the Soul, which yet in a way partakes of ReasonXltil^li For in the man who controls his appetites, and?^***"" 1 . T , , *^^ dency to him who resolves to do so and fails, we praise the™^«i»- Reason or Rational part of the Soul, because it^oT;'*^*"' exhorts aright and to the best course : but clearly there is in th«m, beside the Reason, some other natural principle which fights with and strains against the Reason. (For in plain terms, just as paralysed limbs of the body, when their owners would move them to the right are borne aside in a contrary direction to the left, so is it in the case of the Soul, for the impulses of men who cannot control their appetites are to contrary points : the difference is, that in the case of the body we do see what is borne aside, but in the case of the soul we do not. But, it may be, r).ot tbe less" on that account are we to suppose that there is in the Soul also somewhat besides the Reason, which is opposed to this arid goes against it ; as to how it is different, that is irrelevant.) But of Reason this too does evidently partake, as hut a ca- we have said: for instance, in the man of self-suWtog control it obeys Reason : and perhaps in the man * of perfected self-niastery', or the brave man, it is " The unseen is at least as real as the seen. ' The terms are borrowed from the 7th Book, and are here used in their strict philosophical meaning. The eyicpanjs is he who has bad or uumly appetites, but whose reason is strong enough to keep them under. The oKpar^s is he whose appetites constantly prevail over his reason atid previous good resolutions. By the law of habits the former is constantly approximating to a state in which the appetites are wholly qaelle4;_l'his state is called a-oKppo&vvi), and the man in it aix^ptov. By tKe~^iae law. . to it. 40 ARISTOTLE'S book i. yet more obedient, for in them it agrees entirely with the Reason. So then the Irrational is plainly twofold : for the one part, the merely vegetative, has no share of Reason, but that of desire, or appetition generally, does partake of it in a sense, in so far as it is obedient to it and capable of submitting to its rule. (So too in common phrase we say we have Xoyos of our father or friends, and this in a diflFerent sense from' that in which we say we have Xoyos of mathematics".) Now that the Irrational is in some way per- suaded by the Reason, admonition, and every act of rebuke and exhortation indicate. If then we are to say that this also has Reason, then the The Ka- Rational, as well as the Irrational, will be twofold, tionaitwo-^^^ one Supremely and in itself, the other paying it a kind of filial regard. HumaQ The Excellence of Man then is divided in ac- lvided'"'^cordance with this difference: for we make two into Moral ^asses. Calling the one Intellectual, and the other Moral ; pure science, intelligence, and practical wisdom — Intellectual : hberaUty, and perfected self-mastery — Moral : for in speaking of a man's Moral character, we do not say he is a scientific or the remonstrances of reason in the latter grow fainter and fainter till they are silenced for ever. This state is called diaiXa&ia, and the man in it dicdXoo-Toy. " This is untranslateahle. As the Greek phrase, txeiv \oy6v twos, really denotes substituting, that person's Xoyos for one's own, so the Irrational nature in a man of self-control or perfected self-mastery substitutes the orders of Reason for its own impulses. The other phrase means the actual possession of mathematical truths as part of the mental furniture, i. e. knowing them. CHAP. XI. ETHICS. 41 intelligent, but a meek man, or one of perfected and intei- self-mastery : and we praise the man of science in right of his mental state'' ; and of these such as are praiseworthy we call Excellences. ' e^iv may be taken as opposed to h/epyemv, and the meaning will be, to shew a difference between Moral and Intellectual Ex- cellences, that men are commended for merely having the latter, but only for exerting and using the former. BOOK II. CHAPTER I. That Moral Virtue is produced by a succession of right actions. Well : human Excellence is of two kinds, Intel- intei. lectual and Moral * : now the Intellectual springs ceiienoe originally, and is increased subsequently from teaching"" teaching, (for the most part that is ',) and needs fronflu"^ therefore experience and time ; whereas the Moral torn; comes from custom, and so the Greek term de- noting it is but a slight deflection from the term denoting custom in that language. and there- From this fact it is plain, that not one of the foresprings i tr- i • not up in us Moral Virtues comes to be m us merely by nature : nature. ^ because of such things as exist by nature, none fause 0^!' can be changed by custom : a stone, for instance, ?hangfby ^y ^^^^^ gravitating downwards, could never by custom, custom be brought to ascend, not even if one were to try and accustom it by throwing it up ten thousand times ; nor could fire again be brought to descend, nor in fact could any thing, whose nature is in one way, be brought by custom to be in another. The Virtues then come to be in " Which we call simply virtue. ' For nature must of course supply the capacity. CHAP. I. ETHICS. 43 US neither by nature, nor in despite of nature % but we are furnished by nature with a capacity for receiving them, and are perfected in them through custom. Again, in whatever cases we get things by nature. Secondly, we get the faculties first, and perform the- acts of the^ftumity workiuig afterwards; an illustration of which iSq„ence"^^" afforded by the case of our bodily senses, for it*°^°°„f^® was not from having often seen' or heard that we*'^^^'''''"'^- got these senses, but just the reverse : we had them and so exercised them, but did not have them because we had exercised them. But the Virtues we get by first performing single acts of working, which again is the case of other things, as the arts for instance ; for what we have to do when we have learned how, these we learn how to do by doing: men come to be builders, for instance, by building; harp-players, by playing on the harp: exactly so, by doing just actions, we come to be just ; by doing the actions of self-mastery, we come to be perfected in self-mastery; and by doing brave actions, brave. And to the truth of this testimony is borne by Thirdly, what takes place in communities: because iheaeeofmen law-givers make the individual members good men rates our by habituation, and this is the intention certainly ''"^' of every law-giver, and all who do it not welj, fail of their intent ; and herein consists the difference between a good Constitution and a bad. Aeain, every Virtue is either produced or de- Fourthly, ° , „ 1 , , • i Virtue is . stroyed from and by the very same circumstances : formed or art too in hke manner ; I mean it is by playing the by^xTtiy harp that both the good and the bad harp players ^^^^^^ Or " as a simple result of nature." the same circum- stances. 44 ARISTOTLE'S book ii. are formed : and similarly builders and all the rest, for by bmlding well, men will become good bviilders ; by doing it badly, bad ones : in fact, if this had not been so, there would have been no need of instructors, but aU men would have been at once good or bad in their several arts, without them. So too then is it with the Virtues : for by acting in the various relations in which we are thrown with our fellow men, we come to be, some just, some tmjust : and by acting in dangerous positions and being habituated to feel fear or confidence, we come to be, some brave, others cowards. Similarly is it also with respect to the occasions of lust and anger : for some men come to be per- fected in self-mastery and mild, others destitute of all self-control and passionate ; the one class by behaving in one way under them, the other by Asthe par- behaving in another. COr, in one word, the habits/ tionstro" are produced fi-om the acts of working like toj tobits^ thTt them :). and so what we have to do, is to give a' are formed, ggj.^^jjj character to these particular acts, because the habits formed correspond to the differences of these. So then, whether we are accustomed this way or that straight fi-om childhood, makes not a small but an important difference, or rather I would say it makes all the difference. CHAP. II. ETHICS. 45 CHAP- II. The Standard and Rule of right action. How the perfect formation of habits may be tested. Virtue is shewn to have pleasure and pain for its object matter. Since then the object of the present treatise is The point not mere speculation, as it is of some others, (fortherefo"r7 we are enquiring not merely that we may knowlL^'seVrX what virtue is, but that we may become virtuous, j^'^J^^^^ else it would be useless,) we must consider as to"^°°^- the particular actions how we are to do thein, because as we have just said the character of the habits that shall be formed depends on these. Now that we are to act in accordance with Right The stand- Reason is a general maxim, and may for the present Reason. be taken for granted : we will speak of it hereafter, and say both what Right Reason is, aijd what are its relations to the other virtues ''. But let this point be first thoroughly understood Repetition between us, that all which can be said on moral tion as to action must be said in outhne, as it were, and not ^^ture rf''* exactly : for as we remarked at the commence- j^^^^'J''^'' ment, such reasoning only must be required as the f^Pjj'''^"^ nature of the subject-matter admits of, and matters plication to of moral action and expediency have no fixedness oases, any more than matters of health. And if the subject in its general maxims is such, still less in its application to particular cases is exactness attainable °: because these fall not under any art ^ This is done in the Sixth Book. ° It is, in truth, in the application of rules to particular details of practice that our moral Responsibility chiefly lies : no rule can be 'so framed, that evasion shall be impossible. See Bishop Butler's Sermon on the character of Balaam, and that on Self-Deceit. 46 ARISTOTLE'S book ii. or system of rules, but it must be left in each instance to the individual agents to look to the exigencies of the particular case, as it is in the art of healing, or that of navigating a ship. StiU, though the present subject is confessedly such, we must try and do what we can for it. TheBuie First then this must be noted, that it is the action (de- nature of such things to be spoiled by defect and rived from • ii i? i lii -i analogies exccss ; as we see m the case oi health and doa"na.''^ Strength, (since for the illustration of things which aroid ex." cauuot be Seen we must use those that can,) for deficienc ^^^^^sivB training impairs the strength as well as deficient : meat and drink, in hke manner, in too great or too small quantities, impair the health: while in due proportion they cause, increase, and preserve it. Thus it is therefore with the habits of perfected Self-Mastery and Courage, and the rest of the Virtues : for the man who flies from and fears all things, and never stands up against any thing, comes to be a coward ; and he who fears nothing, but goes at every thing, comes to be rash. In Hke manner too, he that tastes of every pleasure and abstains fi:om none, comes to lose aU self-control ; while he who avoids all, as do the dull and clownish, comes as it were to lose his facilities of perception : that is to say, the habits of per- fected Self-Mastery and Courage are spoiled by the excess and defect, but by the mean state are preserved. ^nd ftere- Furthermore, not only do the origination, growth- fore moral and marring of the habits come &om and by th^ a^tupor" same circumstances, but also the acts of working Itanoer"' after the habits are formed will be exercised on the CHAP. II. ETHICS. 47 same : for so it is also with those other things wWch which are more directly matters of sight, strength thenf. for instance : for this comes by taking pletity of food and doing plenty of work, and the man who has attained strength is best able to do these : and so it is with the Virtues, for not only do we by abstaining from pleasures come to be perfected in Self-Mastery, but when we have come to be so, we can best abstain from them : similarly too with Courage : for it is by accustoming ourselves to despise objects of fear, and stand up against them, that we come to be brave ; and after we have come to be so, we shall be best able to stand up against such objects. And for a test of the matxired formation of the The Test habits, we must take the pleasure which succeeds being the acts ; for he is perfected in Self-Mastery whop°™sure not only abstains from the bodily pleasures, but isan^P^""- glad to do so ; whereas he who abstains, but is sorry to do it, has not Self-Mastery': he again is brave, who stands up against danger, either with positive pleasure, or at least without any pain ; whereas he who does it with pain, is not brave^. For Moral Virtue has for its object-matter plea- virtue is . „ , J concerned sures and pams, because by reason oi pleasure we do with plea- sure and pain. ' The words aKSKatrros and 8«Xos are not used bare in their strict significations to denote confirmed states of vice : the iyKparrii necessarily feels pain, because he must always be thwarting passions which are a real part of his nature; though this pain will grow less and less as he nears the point of araKJipocrivi] or perfected Self- Mastery, which being attained the pain will then and then only cease entirely. So a certain degree of fear is necessary to the formation of true courage. All that is meant here is, that no habit of courage or self-mastery can be said to be matured, until pain altogether vanishes. 48 ARISTOTLE'S book ii, what is bad, and by reason of pain decline doing what First rea- is light ; (for which cause, as Plato observes, men should have been trained straight from their child- hood to receive pleasure and pain from proper Second, objects, for this is the right education.) Again : if Virtues have to do with actions and feelings, and on every feehng and every action pleasure and pain follow, here again is another proof that Virtue has for its object-matter pleasure and pain. The Third. same is shown also by the fact that punishments, are effected through the instrumentality of these ; because they are of the nature of remedies, and it is the nature of remedies to be the contraries of Fourth, the ills they cure. Again, to quote what we said before : every habit of the Soul by its very nature, has relation to, and exerts itself upon, things of the same kind as those by which it is naturally dete- riorated or improved : now such habits do come to be vicious by reason of pleasures and pains, that is, by men pursuing or avoiding respectively, either such as they ought not, or at wrong times or in (Stoical wrong manner, and so forth ; (for which reason, by "?rtuere- the Way, some people define the Virtues as certain p^j^alng") states of impassibility and utter qmetude^,. but s Virtue consists in the due regulation of all the parts of our nature : our passions are a- real part of that nature, and as such- have their proper office ; it is an error then to aim at their extirpa- tion. It is true that in a perfect moral state emotion will he rare, hut then this will have heen gained hy regular process, being the legitimate result of the law that 'passive impressions weaken as active habits are strengthened, by repetition.' If musical instru- ments are making discord, I may silence or I may bring them into hannony : in either case I get rid of discord, but in the latter I have the positive enjoyment of music. The Stoics would have passions rooted out, Aristotle would have them cultivated : to use CHAP. II. ETHICS. 49 they are wrong because they speak without modifi- cation, instead of adding " as they ought," " as they ought not," and " when," and so on.) Now \ Virtue is supposed to be that habit which is such, in relation to pleasures and pains, as to effect the'^ best results, and Vice the contrary. The following considerations may also serve to Fifth rea- set this in a clear hght. There are principally ^°°' three things moving us to choice and three to avoidance, the honourable, the expedient, the plea- sant ; and their three contraries, the dishonourable, the htirtful, and the painful : now the good ^man is apt to go right, and the bad man wrong, with respect to all these of course, but most specially with respect to pleasure : because not only is this common to him Avith all animals, but also it is a concomitant of all those things which move to choice, since both the honourable and the expedient give an impression of pleasure. Again, it grows up with us all from infancy, and sixth. so it is a hard matter to remove from ourselves tliis feeling, engrained as it is into our very life. Again, we adopt pleasure and pain (some of us Seventh, more, and some less) as the measure even of actions: for this cause then our whole business must be with them, since to receive right or wrong impressions of pleasure and pain is a thing of no little importance in respect of the actions. Once Eighth. an apt figure, (whose I know not,) They would pluck the blossom off at once, he would leave it to fall in due course when the fruit was formed. Of them we might truly say, Solitudinem faciunt, pacem appellant. See on this point Bp. Butler's fifth Sermon, and sect. ii. of the chapter on Moral Discipline in the first part of his Analogy. 50 ARISTOTLE'S book ii. more ; it is harder, as Heraclitus says, to fight against pleasure than against anger: now it is about that which is more than commonly difficult that art comes into being, and virtue too, because in that which is difficult the good is of a higher order : and so for this reason too both virtue and moral philosophy generally must wholly busy themselves respecting pleasures and pains, because he that uses these well will be good, he that does so ill, will be a bad man. Summary Let US then be understood to have stated, that of state- 1 f • 1 • 1 T • ments. Virtue has for its object-matter pleasures and pains, and that it is either increased or marred by the same circumstances (differently used) by which it is originally generated, and that it exerts, itself on the same circumstances out of which it was generated. CHAP. III. An objection to the foregoing account of the formation of Moral Virtue), with its answer. Now I can conceive a person perplexed as to the meaning of our statement, that men must do just actions to become just, and those of self- The objec- mastery to acquire the habit of self-mastery ; " for," tion stated., %-, \^ .j. , . , / ' he would say, it men are doing the actions, they have the respective virtues already, just as men are grammarians or musicians when they do the actions f wTden ^^ either art." May we not reply by saying, that the faois it is not so even in the case of the arts referred to : because a man may produce something grammatical either by chance or the suggestion of another ; but CHAP. III. ETHICS. 51 then only will he be a grammarian, when he not only produces something grammatical, but does so grammarian-wise, i. e. in virtue of the grammatical knowledge he hiriiself possesses. |Again, the cases of the arts and the virtues are 2. We deny not parallel : because those things which are pro-JeUsmof duced by the arts have their excellence in them-i^^plj®^ selves, and it is sufficient therefore that these when | produced should be in a certain state : but those which are produced in the way of the virtues, are, strictly speaking, actions of a certain kind, (say of Justice or perfected Self-Mastery,) not merely if in themselves they are in a certain state, but if also he who does them, does thein being himself in aTterequi- certain state, first if knowingly, next if with de- right ac- liberate preference, and with such preference for*'™" the things' own sake ; and thirdly, if being himseK stable and unapt to changj^ Now to constitute possession of the arts these requisites 'are not reckoned in, excepting the one point of knowledge : whereas for possession of the virtues knowledge avails httle or nothing, but the other requisites avail not a httle, but, in fact, are all in all, and these requisites as a matter of fact do come from oftentimes doing the actions of Justice and perfected Self-Mastery. The facts ^ it is true, are called by the names of The fact may be ■■ I have adopted this word from our old writers, because our word act is so commonly interchanged with action. npa|is (action) properly denotes the whole process from the conception to the performance. TJpayiia (fact) only the result. The latter may be right when the former is wrong : if, for example, a murderer were killed by his accomplices. Again, the jrpi^is may be good though the TrpayiM be wrong, as if a man under erroneous impressions does what would have been right if his impressions had been true, E 2 52 ARISTOTLE'S book ii. good, yet thcse habits when they are such as the just or not good, perfectly self-mastering man would do : but he is not in possession of the virtues who merely does these facts, but he who also so does them as the just and self-mastering do them. We are right then in saying, that these virtues are formed in a man by his doing the actions ; but no one, if he should leave them undone, would be even in the way to become a good man. Yet people in general do not perform these actions, but taking reftige in talk, they flatter themselves they are philosophising, and that they will so be good men : acting in truth very hke those sick people, who hsten to the doctor with great attention, but do nothing that he tells them : just as these then caijnot be well bodily under such a course of treatment, so neither can those be mentally by such philosophisingr CHAP. IV. What is the Genus of Virtue. Virtue is Next, we must examine what Virtue is'. Well, fLiTuI, a since the things which come to be in the mind are, ovTs^i in all^ of these kinds, FeeUngs, Capacities, States, (subject of course to the question how far he is guiltless of his original error,) but in this case we could not call the 7rpa|ji right. No repetition of irpayjiaTa goes to form a habit. See Bp. Butler on the' Theory of Habits in the Chapter on Moral Discipline, quoted above, sect. ii. " And in like manner as habits belonging to the body," &c. ' Being about to give a strict logical definition of Virtue, Aristotle ascertains first what is its genus W iirnv, CHAP. IV. ETHICS. 53 Virtue of course must belong to one of the three classes. By FeeUngs, I mean such as lust, anger, fear. These confidence, envy, joy, friendship, hatred, longing, pSa?' emulation, compassion, in short, all such as are followed by pleasure or pain : by Capacities, those in right of which we are said to be capable of these feelings ; as by virtue of which we are able to have been made angry, or grieved, or to have compassionated ; by States, those in right of which we are in a certain relation good or bad to the aforementioned feelings ; as to having been made angry, for instance, we are in a wrong relation if in our anger we were too violent or too slack, but if we were in the happy medium, we are in a right relation to the feehng. And so on of the rest. Now FeeUngs neither the virtues nor vices are. Neither because in right of the Feelings we are not de- vloe"!"""^ nominated either good or bad, but in right of the Ifrft re'a- virtues and vices we are. ^°°- Again, in right of the Feelings we are neither second, praised nor blamed'', (for a man is not commended for being afraid or being angry, nor blamed for being angry merely, but for being so in a particular way,) but in right of the virtues and vices we are. Again, both anger and fear we feel without Third, moral choice, whereas the virtues are acts of moral choice, or at least certainly not independent of it. Moreover, in right of the Feelings we are said to Fourth. '' That is, not for merely having them, because we did not make ourselves. See Bp. Butler's accoimt of our nature as containing " particular propensions," in sect. iv. of the chapter on Moral Discipline, and in the Preface to the Sermons. 54 ARISTOTLE'S book ii. be moved, but in right of the virtues and vices not to be moved, but disposed, in a certain way. Nor a Ca- And for these same reasons, they are not Capa- fhe s'lif pities, for we are not called good or bad merely reason, ^jg^^^gg ^g are able to feel, nor are we praised or blamed. and one And again. Capacities we have by nature, but ent!^""^" we do not come to be good or bad by nature, as we have said before. Since then the virtues are neither Feehngs nor Capacities, it remains that they must be States. CHAP. V. What is the differentia of Virtue. Now what the genus of Virtue is, has been said; but we must not merely speak of it thus, that it is a state, but say also what kind of a state it is. Primary We must observe then, that all excellence makes term ijira, that whereof it is the excellence, both to be itself lencer^" in a good state, and to perform its work well' The excellence of the eye, for instance, makes both the eye good, and its work also : for by the excellence of the eye we See well. So too the excellence of the horse makes a horse good, and good in speed, and in carrying his rider, and standing up against the enemy. If then this is universally the case, the excellence of Man, i. e. Virtue, must be a state whereby Man comes to be good, and whereby he will perform well his proper work. Now how this shall be it is true we have said aheady, but ~still perhaps it may throw light on the subject to see what is its characteristic nature. This ap- plied to Man. CHAP. V. ETHICS. 66 In all quantity then, whether Continuous or discrete ', one may take the greater part, the less, or the exactly equal, and these either with re- ference to the thing itself, or relatively to us : and the exactly equal is a mean between excess and defect. Now by the mean of the thing, i. e.' ab- Two kinds solute mean, I denote that which is equidistant theTbso- from either extreme, (which of course is one and^"'^' the same to all;) and by the mean relatively to^andthe ourselves, that which is neither too much nor too"^^^'^*' httle for the particular individual. This of course is not one nor the same to all : for instance, suppose ten is too much and two too little, people take six for the absolute mean ; because it exceeds the smaller sum by exactly as much as it is itself exceeded by the larger, and this mean is according to arithmetical proportion ". But the mean relatively to ourselves must not which be so found, for it does not follow, supposing ten each case, minae " is too large a quantity to eat and two too small, that the trainer will order his man six ; because for the person who is to take it this also ' This refers to the division of quantity {mcrov) in the Cate- gories. Those Quantities are called hy Aristotle Continuous, whose parts have position relatively to one another, as a linej surface, or solid ; those discrete, whose parts have no such relation, as humhers themselves, or any string of words gi-ammatically unconnected. " Numhers are in arithmetical proportion, (more usually called progression,) when they increase or decrease by a common differ- ence : thus, 2. 6. 10. are so, because 2 -f 4 = 6. 6 -|- 4 = 10. or vice versa, 10 — 4 = 6. 6 — 4 = 2. ° If the mina be taken at 15- oz. avoirdupois, (Diet, of G. and R. Antiquities, article Talent um,) we must be sadly degenerate in our gastric capacity. 56 ARISTOTLE'S book ir. may be too much or too little : for Milo it would be too little, but for a man just commencing his athletic exercises too much : similarly too of the exercises themselves, as running or wrestling. andiBai- So then it seems every one possessed of skill Td^ltbr avoids excess and defect, but seeks for and chooses the skilful. ^^^ ^^^^^ ^^j. ^^^ absolute, but the relative. Now if all skill thus accomplishes well its work by keeping an eye on the mean, and bringing the works to this point, (whence it is common enough to say of such works as are in a good state, " one cannot add to or take aught from them," under the notion of excess or defect destroying goodness, but the mean state preserving it,) and good artizans Virtue as we say work with their eye on this, and ex- has an ap- cellcuce, like nature, is more exact and better aim at °his than any art in the world, it must have an aptitude mean, ^^ ^-^ ^^ ^^^^ mean. It is moral excellence, i. e. Virtue, of course which I mean, because this it is which is concerned both in with fecHngs and actions, and in these there can be excess and defect, and the mean : it is possible, for instance, to feel the emotions of fear, conjfidence, lust, anger, compassion, and pleasure and pain ge- nerally, too much or too little, and in either case wrongly; but to feel them when we ought, on what occasions, towards whom, why and as we should do, is the mean, or in other words the best state, and this is the property of Virtue. and ac- In hke manner too with respect to the actions, tions. in there may be excess and defect, and the mean. Now Virtue is concerned with feelings and actions, in which the excess is wrong and the defect is blamed, but the mean is praised and goes right: CHAP. VI. ETHICS. 57 and both these circumstances belong to Virtue. Virtue then is in a sense a mean state, since it This then certainly has an aptitude for aiming at the mean. Differentia Again, one may go wrong in many different wrong is ways, (because, as the Pythagoreans expressed it,^^^"^ evil is of the class of the infinite, good of the finite,) but right only in one ; and so the former is easy. Eight only the latter difiicult; easy to miss the mark, but" ™*' hard to hit it : and for these reasons, therefore, both the excess and defect belong to Vice, and the mean state to Virtue ; for, as a poet has it, " Men may be bad in many ways. But good in one alone." CHAP. VI. Notes on the Definition of Virtue thus obtained. Virtue then is " a state apt to exercise dehberate Definition choice, being in the relative mean, determined by° reason, and" as the man of practical wisdom would determine." It is a middle state between two faulty ones, in the way of excess on one side, and defect on the other: and it is so moreover, because the faulty states on one side fall short of, and those on the other exceed, what is right, both in the case of the feelings and the actions ; but Virtue finds, and when found adopts, the mean. ° The two are necessary, because since the reason itself may be perverted, a man must have recourse to an external standard : we may suppose his Xo'yos originally to have been a sufficient guide, but when he has injured his moral perceptions in any degree, he must go out of himself for direction. 58 ARISTOTLE'S book ii. And so viewing it in respect of its essence and definition. Virtue is a mean state ; but in referenscg to the chief good and to excellence, it is the highest sta.te possible. But not ^'^ut it must not be supposed, that every action tionand or every feeling is capable of subsisting in this 6ubsi's^in°niean state, because some there are which are so state.™ named as immediately to convey the notion of badness, as malevolence, shamelessness, envy ; or, to instance in actions, adultery, theft, homicide; for all these and such hke are blamed, because they are in themselves bad, and not the having too much or too Httle of them. In these then you never can go right, but must always be wrong : nor in such does the right or wrong depend on the selection of a proper person,: time, or manner, (take adultery for instance,) but simply doing any one soever of those things is being wrong. You might as well require that there should be determined a mean state, an excess and a defect in respect of acting unjustly, being cowardly, or giving up all control of the passions : for at this rate there will be of excess and defect a mean state; of exce^§, excess; and of defect, defect. But just as of perfected self-mastery and courage there is no excess and defect, because the mean is in one point of view the highest possible state, so neither of those faulty states can you have a mean state, excess, or defect, but howsoever done they are wrong: for you cannot, in short, have of excess and defect a mean state, nor of a mean state excess, and defect. CBAP. VII. ETHICS. 59 CHAP. VII. The application of this definitioii to particular instances. It is not enough, however, to state this in general terms, we must also apply it to particular instances, because in treatises on moral conduct general state- ments have an air of vagueness, but those which go into detail of greater reahty : for the actions after Appiica- all must be in detail, and the general statements, JarttcSar to be worth any thing, must hold good here. l^^\'^ ^^ We must take these details then from the well-t«st°fse- , , neral state- known scheme ^. ments. I. In respect of fears and confidence or bold- ness : The Mean state is Courage : men may exceed, >f course, either in absence of fear or in positive confidence : the former has no name, (which is a :;ommon case,) the latter is called rash : again, the man who has too much fear and too little con- fidence is called a coward. II. In respect of pleasures and pains, (but not dl, and perhaps fewer pains than pleasures^:) The Mean state here is perfected Self-Mastery^ he defect total absence of Self-control. As for lefect in respect of pleasure, there are really no teople who are chargeable with it, so, of course, here is really no name for such characters, but as ■■ This is one of the many expressions which seem to imply that lis treatise is rather a collection of notes of a vivd voce lecture lan a set formal treatise. " The tahle" of virtues and vices robahly was sketched out and exhibited to the audience. 60 ARISTOTLE'S book n. they are conceivable we will give them one, and call them insensible. III. In respect of giving and taking wealth' (o) : The mean state is LiberaUty, the excess Prodi- gality, the defect Stinginess : here each of the extremes involves really an excess and defect con- trary to those of the others : I mean, the prodigal gives out too much and takes in too little, while the stingy man takes in too much and gives out too little. (It must be understood that we are now giving merely an outline and summary, in- tentionally : and we will, in a later part of the treatise, draw out the distinctions with greater exactness.) IV. In respect of wealth (b) : There are other dispositions besides these Just mentioned ; a mean state called Munificence : (for the munificent man differs from the Uberal, the former having necessarily to do with great wealth, the latter with but small ;) the excess called by the names either of Want of taste, or Vulgar Profusion, and the defect Paltriness : (these also differ from the extremes connected with liberality, and the manner of their difference shall also be spoken of later.) V. In respect of honoiu: and dishonour («) : The mean state Greatness of Soul, the excess which may be called xaui'OTT/y', and the defect Littleness of Soul. "> Afterwards defined as " All things whose value is measured by money." ' We have no term exactly equivalent : it may be illustrated by Horace's use of the term hiatus, " Quid dignum tanto feret hie promissor hiatu ?" A. P. 138. CHAP. VII. ETHICS. 61 VI. In respect of honour and dishonour (6) : Now there is a state bearing the same relation to Greatness of Soul as we said just now Liberality does to Munificence, with the difference that is of being about a small amount of the same thing: this state having reference to small honour, as Greatness of Soul to great honour ; a man may, of course, grasp at honour either more than he should or less ; now he that exceeds in his grasping at it is called ambitious, he that falls short unambitious, he that is just as he should be has no proper name : nor in fact have the states, except that the dis- position of the ambitious man is called ambition. For this reason those who are in either extreme lay claim to the mean as a debateable land, and we call the virtuous character sometimes by the name ambitious', sometimes by that of unambitious, and we commend sometimes the one and sometimes the other. Why we do it shall be said in the sub- sequent part of the treatise ; but now we will go on with the rest of the virtues after the plan we have laid down. VII. In respect of anger : Here too there is excess, detect, and a mean state ; but since they may be said to have really no proper names, as we call the virtuous charac- ter Meek, we will call the mean state Meekness, Opening the mouth wide gives a promise of something great to come ; if nothing great does come, this is a case of xo^^virris, or fruitless and unmeaning hiatus; the transference to the present gubject is easy. In like manner we talk of laudable ambition, implying of course there may be that which is not laudable. 62 ARISTOTLE'S book ii. and of the extremes, let the man who is excessive be denominated Passionate, and the faulty state Passionateness, and him who is deficient Angerless, and the defect Angerlessness. There are also three other mean states, having some mutual resemblance, but still with differ- ences ; they are alike, in that they all have for their object-matter intercourse of words and deeds, and they differ in that one has respect to truth herein, the other two to what is pleasant; and this in two ways, the one in relaxation and amusement, the other in all things which occur in daily hfe. We must say a word or two about these also, that we may the better see that in all matters the mean is praiseworthy, while the extremes are neither right nor worthy of praise but of blame. Now of these, it is true, the majority have really no proper names, but still we must try, as in the other cases, to coin some for them for the sake of clearness and intelhgibleness. I. In respect of truth : The man who is in the mean state we will call Truthful, and his state Truthfulness ; and as to the disguise of truth, if it be on the side of ex- aggeration, Braggadocia, and him that has it a Braggadocio ; if on that of diminution. Reserve and Reserved shall be the terms. II. In respect of what is pleasant in the way of relaxation or amusement. The mean state shall be called Easy-pleasantry, and the character accordingly a man of Easy- pleasantry; the excess Buffoonery, and the man a Buffoon; the man deficient herein a Clown, and his state Clownishness. CHAP. VII. ETHICS. 63 III. In respect of what is pleasant in daily life. He that is as he should be may be called Friendly, and his mean state Friendliness : he that exceeds, if it be without any, interested motive, somewhat too Complaisant, if with such motive, a Flatterer : he that is deficient, and in all instances unpleasant. Quarrelsome and Cross. There are mean states Ukewise in feelings and Mean matters concerning them. Shamefacedness, for in respect instance, is no virtue, still a man is praised for" ^^'"^*' being shamefaced : for in these two, one is de- nominated the man in the mean state, another in the excess ; the Dumbfoundered, for instance, who is overwhelmed with shame on all and any oc- casions : the man who is in the defect, i. e. who has no shame at all in his composition is called Shameless : but the right character Shamefaced. Indignation against successful vice', again, is a state in the mean between Envy and Malevolence : they all three have respect to pleasure and pain produced by what happens to one's neighbour : for the man who has this right feeling is annoyed at undeserved success of others, while the envious man goes beyond him and is annoyed at all success of others, and the malevolent falls so far short of feeUng annoyance, that he even rejoices [at mis- fortune of others]. But for the discussion of these also there will be another opportunity, as of Justice too, because the term is used in more senses than one. So after this we will go accurately into each and ' An expression of Bp. Butler's, which ' corresponds exactly to the definition of yefteo-iy in the Rhetoric. 64 ARISTOTLE'S book ii. say how they are mean states : and in hke manner also with respect to the Intellectual Excellences. CHAP. VIII. Of the various degrees of opposition between the faulty and the right states in each Virtue. All are op- Now as there are three states in each case, two 1^%L " faulty either iii the way of excess or defect, and mo^r one right, which is the mean state, of course all are in a way opposed to one another ; the extremes, for instance, not only to the mean, but also to one another, and the mean to the extremes : for just as the half is greater if compared with the less portion, and less if compared with the greater, so the mean states, compared with the defects, exceed, whether in feelings or actions, and vice versa. The brave man, for instance, shews as rash when com- pared with the coward, and cowardly when com- pared with the rash ; similarly too the man of perfected self-mastery, viewed in comparison with the man destitute of all perception, shews like a man of no self-control, but in comparison with the man who really has no self-control, he looks like one destitute of all perception : and the hberal man compared with the stingy seems prodigal, and by the side of the prodigal, stingy. And so the extreme characters push away, so to speak, towards each other the man in the mean state ; the brave man is called a rash man by the. coward, and a coward by the rash man, and in the other cases accordingly. And there being this lAP, VIII. ETHICS. 65 lutual opposition, the contrariety between the ctremes is greater than between either and the lean, because they are further from one another lan from the mean, just as the greater or less jrtion differ more from each other than either om the exact half. Again, in some cases an extreme will bear a The mean jsemblance to the mean, rashness, for instance, to ways ex- jurage, and prodigaUty to liberality ; but beween distant*^"'" le extremes there is the greatest dissimilarity, g™"*^^ fow things which are furthest from one another" "e defined to be contrary, and so the further off le more contrary will they be. Further : of the extremes in some cases the xcesSj'and in others the defect, is most opposed ) the mean : to courage, for instance, not rash- ess, which is the excess, but cowardice, which is le defect ; whereas to perfected self-mastery, not isensibiUty, which is the defect, but absence of all ;lf-control, which is the excess. And for this there are two reasons to be given; Tworea- ae from the nature of the thing itself, because fng^oneo'ut om the one extreme being nearer and more hke "„ * ^Ahe le mean, we do not put this against it, but the *'"°«'*^^''' ther; as, for instance, since rashness is thought ) be nearer to courage than cowardice is, and to ;semble it more, we put cowardice against courage ither than rashness, because those things which •e further from the mean are thought to be more mtrary to it. This then is one reason arising » That is, in the same genus : to be contraries, things must be inerically connected, to TrXeicrTox oKXrjKav SieonjKiSro tS>v ev ra Tffl yewi ivavria opt^ovrai. Categories, iv. 15. F 66 . ARISTOTLE'S book ii. One out of from the thinff itself ; there is another arising from the con- . . , , -. . , stitutiou of our own constitution and make : tor in each man s viduai. ' own case those things give the impression of being more contrary to the mean to which we individually have a natural bias. Thus we have a natural bias towards pleasxires, for which reason we are much more inclined to the rejection of all self-control, than to self-discipline. These things then, to which the bias is, we call more contrary, and so total want of self-control (the excess) is more contrary than the defect is to perfected self-mastery. CHAP. IX. The practical application of the Book. The chief Now that Moral Virtue is a mean state, and statements , •- • i i . ,. , recapitu- now it IS SO, and that it lies between two faulty states, one in the way of excess and another in the way of defect, and that it is so because it has an aptitude to aim at the mean both in feelings and actions, all this has been set forth ftdly and sufficiently. Eight ae- And so it is hard to be good : for surely hard it tion a, iDEit- ■ , _ , •' ter of dif- IS in each instance to find the mean, just as to find St facts the mean point or centre of a cirde is not what ^^^>. any man can do, but only he who knows how': just so to be angry, to give money, and be ex- pensive, is what any man can do, and easy : but actio"ifnot *° *^° *^^^ *° ^^^ "g^^ P^son, in due proportion, at the right time, with a right objecti and in the CHAP. IX. ETHICS. 67 right manner, this is not as before what any man can do, nor is it easy : and for this cause goodness is rare, and praiseworthy, and noble. Therefore he who aims at the mean should make The prao- it his first care to keep away from that extreme, for approx- which is more contrary than the other to the 'the^M°|a^° mean ; just as Calypso in Homer advises Ulysses, " Clear of this smoke and surge thy barque direct;" because of the two extremes, the one is always more, and the other less, erroneous : and, there- fore, since to hit exactly on the mean is difficult, one must take the least of the evils as the safest plan"; and this a man will be doing, if he follows this method. We ought also to take into consideration our Natural ■ Ti. 1*1 ■• 1 » bias to be own natural bias ; which varies m each man s case, taken into and will be ascertained from the pleasure and pain *"'°"°*- arising in us. Furthermore, we should force our- selves off in the contrary direction, because we shall find ourselves in the mean, after we have removed ourselves far from the wrong side, exactly as men do in straightening bent timber ". But in aU cases we must guard most carefully And espe- against what is pleasant, and pleasure itself, because SnWersaf we are not impartial judges of it. wards"" We ought to feel in fact towards pleasure as did pie^^"™- ' " Aeirepos ttXoSs is a proverb," says the Scholiast on the Phsedo, " used of those who do any thing safely and cautiously, inasmuch as they who have miscarried in their first voyage, set about their preparations for the second cautiously;'' and he then alludes to this ^ That is, you must allow for the recoil. " Naturam expellas furca tamen usque recurret. f2 68 ARISTOTLE'S book ii. the old counsellors towards Helen, and in all cases pronounce a similar sentence : for so by sending it away from us, we shall err th^ less*. Well, to speak very briefly, these are the pre- cautions, by adopting which we shall be best able to attain the mean. After all Still, perhaps, after all it is a matter of difficulty, done, cer- and Specially in the particular instances : it is not tain points ^^^^^ ^^^ instauce, to determine exactly in what manner, with what persons, for what causes, and for what length of time, one ought to feel anger : for we ourselves sometimes praise those who are defective in this feehng, and we call them meek ; at another, we term the hot-tempered manly and spirited. Then, again, he who makes a small deflection from what is right, be it on the side of too much or too "httle, is not blamed, only he who makes a considerable one : for he cannot escape observation. ' This illustration sets in so clear a light the doctrines enter- tained respectively hy AristotlCj Eudoxns, and the Stoics, regarding pleasure, that it is worth while to go into it fully. The reference is to Iliad iii. 154 — 160. The old counsellors, as Helen tiomes upon the city wall, acknowledge her surpassing beauty, and have no difficulty in understapding how both nations should have incurred such suffering for her sake : slill, fair, as she is, home she must go, that she bring not ruin on themselves and their posterity. This exactly represents Aristotle's relation to Pleasure : he does not, with Eudoxus and his followers, exalt it info the Summmn Bonum, just as Paris would risk all for Helen, nor does he with the Stoics call it wholly evil, as Hector might have said, that the woes Helen had caused had " banished all the beauty from her cheek;" but, with the aged counsellors, admits its charms, but aware of their dangerousness resolves to deny himself; he " Feels her sweetness, yet defies her thrall." CHAP. IX. ETHICS. 69 But to what point or degree a man must err in order to incvir blame, it is not easy to determine exactly in words : nor in fact any of those points must be left which are matter of perception by the Moral Sense : s°enseofthe and such questions are matters of detail, and the ?o°d'e^dde!^ decision of them rests with the Moral Sense ^. At all events thus much is plain, that the mean state is in all things praiseworthy, and that prac- tically we must deflect sometimes towards excess, sometimes towards defect, because this will be the easiest method of hitting on the mean, that is, on what is right. y Aio-fljjo-iE is here used as an analogous noun, to denote the facultyMvhich, in respect of moral matters, discharges the same function that bodily sense does in respect of physical objects. It is worth while to notice how in our colloquial language we carry out the same analogy. We say of a transaction, that ii " looks ugly," " sounds oddly," is a " nasty job," " stinks in our nostrils," is a " hard dealing." BOOK III. CHAPTER I. Of involuntary Actions : first, of compulsory. Eeaaonsfor Now since Virtue is concerned with the regu- Sg^the"' lation of feelings and 'actions, and praise and question. ^1^-^^^ ^rfse upon such as are voluntary, while for the involuntary allowance is made, and some- times compassion is excited, it is perhaps a ne- cessary task for those who are investigating the nature of Virtue, to draw out the distinction between what is voluntary and what involuntary; and it is certainly useful for legislators, with respect to the assigning of honours and punishments. invoiun- Involuntary actions then are thought to be of ar7of'tw™° two kiuds, being done either on compulsion, or by kinds. 2^ " reason oi ignorance. Compulsion An actiou is, properly speaking, compulsory. Physical, when the origination is external to the agent, theWiu'';"'^^^"^ such, that in it the agent (perhaps we may more properly say the patient) contributes nothing ; as if a wind were to convey you any where, or men having power over your person. or Moral, But whcn actions are done, either from fear of the wi™.^'' greater evils, or from some honourable motive, as, for instance, if you were ordered to commit some base act by a despot who had your parents or children CHAP. I. ETHICS. 71 in his power, and they were to be saved upon your compliance, or die upon your refusal, in such cases there is room for a question, whether the actions are voluntary or involuntary. A similar question arises with respect to cases of throwing goods overboard in a storm : ab- stractedly no man throws away his property willingly, but with a view to his own and his ship- mates' safety, any one would who had any sense. The truth is, such actions are of a mixed kind. Actions but are most like voluntary actions : for they are thTiMn choice-worthy at the time when they are donejpu^^i^o"""' and the end or object of the action must be taken "Jj^^j'^J""' with reference to the actual occasion. Further, "*«i:'"°''' • . than invo- we must denominate an action voluntary or invo-iuntary. luntary at the time of doing it : now in the given case the man acts voluntarily, because the origi- nating of the motion of his Umbs in such actions rests with himself; and where the origination is in himself, it rests with himself to do or not to do. Such actions then are voluntary, though in the abstract perhaps iavoluntaiy, because no one would choose any of such things in and by itself. But for such actions men sometimes are even And they , , ., , ,. . are praised praised, as when they endvire any disgrace or pain to secure great and honourable equivalents ; if vice versa, then they are blamed, because it shows Wamed, a base mind to endure things very disgraceful for no honourable object, or for a trifling one. For some again no praise is given, but allowance or excused, is made ; as where a man does what he should not to ciroum, by reason of such things as overstrain the powers^ *°°^'' of human nature, or pass the limits of human endurance. 72 ARISTOTLE'S book hi. but they Some acts perhaps there are for which corn- may be in- '^ '■ l_ 1 J excusable, pulsioii Cannot be pleaded, but a man should rather suffer the worst, and die ; how absurd^ for instance, are the pleas of compulsion with which Alcmaeon in Euripides' Play excuses his matricide. It is hard But it is difficult sometimes to decide what kind rightly be- of thing should be chosen instead of what, or what tCTnTtives, endured in preference to what, and much more so stiUto'^oT to abide by one's decisions : for in general the dete?m"na- alternatives are painful, and the actions required tions. are base, and so praise and blame is awarded ac- cording as persons have been compelled or no. Becapitu- What kind of actions then are to be called points de- compulsory ? may we say, simply and abstractedly when the cause is external and the agent contri- butes nothing, and that where the acts are in themselves such as one would not wish, but choicer worthy at the present time and in preference to such and such things, and where the origination; rests with the agent, the actions are in themselves involuntary, but at the given time and in preference to such and such things voluntary ; and they are more like voluntary than involuntary, because the actions consist of little details, and these are vo- luntary. But what kind of things one ought to choose instead of what, it is not easy to settle, for there are many differences in particular instances. Aetjons, But ^uppose a person should say, actions plea- tiveisPiea- sant and honom-able are done upon compulsion. Pafn° are (f^^^ t^at these objects being external compel ;) on at score every action we do is on compulsion, cause these are universal motives of action. Again, they who act on compulsion and against CHAP. I. ETHICS. 73 their will, do so with pain ; but they who act by reason of what is pleasant or honourable, act with pleasure. It is truly absurd for a man to attribute his actions to external things, instead of to his own capacity for being easily caught by them* ; or, again, to ascribe the honourable to himself, and the base ones to pleasure. So then that seems to be compulsory " whose The term origination is from without, the cempeUer contri-sor™de-' buting nothing." c^^jcJiUx fiDe.d. * A man is not responsible for being Briparos, because " particular propensions, from their very nature, must be felt, the objects of them being present; though ihey cannot be gratified at all, or not with the allowance of the moral principle." But he is responsible for being fiO^paros, because, though thus formed, he " might have improved and raised himself to an higher and more secure state of virtue by the contrary behaviour, by steadily following the moral principle, supposed to be one part of his nature, and thus withstanding that imavoidable danger of defection which neces- sarily arose from propension, the other part of it. For by thus preserving his integrity for some time, his danger would lessen ; since propensions, by being inured to submit, would do it more easily and of course : and his security against this lessening danger would increase ; since the moral principle would gain additional strength by exercise, both which things are implied in the notion of virtuous habits." (From the chapter on Moral Discipline in the Analogy, sect, iv.) The purpose of this dis- quisition is to refute the Necessitarians ; it is resumed in the third chapter of this B<*k. 74 ARISTOTLE'S book hi. CHAP. II. Of the second kind of Involuntary Actions. By reason of Ignorance. Not-voiun- Now every action of which ignorance is the S7oian- cause is not-voluntary, but that only is involuntary tary differ, ^}ij(.}j jg attended with pain and remorse : for clearly the man who has done any thing by reason of ignorance, but is not annoyed at his own action, cannot be said to have done it with his will, because he did not know he was doing it, nor again against his will, because he is not sorry for it. So then of the class " acting by reason of ig- norance," he who feels regret afterwards is thought to be an involuntary agent, and him that has no such feeling, since he certainly is different from the other, we will call a not-volmitary agent : for as there is a real difference, it is better to have a proper name. Ignorance Again, there seems to be a difference between way°s'the acting becuuse of ignorance and acting with ig- itTa'^on°no'^ance : for. instance, we do not usually assign ^||j?°'°^*° ignorance as the cause of the actions of the drunken or angry man, but either the drunkenness or the anger, yet they act not knowingly, but with ignorance. Again, every bad man is ignorant what he ought to do and what to leave undone, and by reason of such error men become unjust and wholly evil. CHAP. II. ETHICS. 75 Again, we do not usually apply the term in- voluntary when a man is ignorant of his own true interest* ; because ignorance which affects moral choice" constitutes depravity, but not involuntari- ness : nor does any ignorance of principle, (because for this men are blamed,) but ignorance in parti- tat only cular details, wherein consists the action, andTgnormie wherewith it is concerned, for in these there is both "a/feotT' compassion and allowance, because he who acts in ignorance of iany of them acts in a proper sense involuntarily. It may be as well, therefore, to define; these These par- particular details ; what they are, and how many ; numerated viz. who acts, what he is doing, with respect to what or in what, sometimes with what, as with what instrument, and with what result^ ; as that '■ Virtue is not only the duty, but (by the laws of the Moral Government of the World) also the interest of Man, or to express it in Bp, Butler's manner. Conscience and Reasonable Self-love are the two principles in our nature which of right have supremacy over the rest, and these two lead in point of fact to the same course of action. (Senhon II.) " Any ignorance of particular facts affects the rightness not of the irpdiis, but of the irpayim, but ignorance of, i. e. incapacity to discern. Principles, shews the Moral Constitution to have been depraved, i. e. shews Conscience to be perverted, or the sight of Self-love to be impaired. * evfKa primarily denotes the relation of cause and effect : all circumstances which in any way contribute to a certain result are evfKa that rasult. From the power which we have or acquire of deducing future results from present causes we are enabled to act towards, that is, with a view to produce, these results : thus hcKa comes to mean not causation merely, but designed causation : and so o5 hcKa is used for Motive, or final cause. It is the primary meaning which is here intended j it would be emplified. 76 ARISTOTLE'S book hi. of preservation, for instance, and how, as whether softly or violently. All these particulars, in one and the same case, no man in his senses could be ignorant 'of; plainly not of the agent, being himself. But what he is doing a man may be ignorant, as men in speaking and ex- say a thing escaped them unawares ; or as ^schylus did with respect to the Mysteries, that he was not aware that it was unlawfiil to speak of them ; or as in the case of that catapult accident the other day, the man said he discharged it merely to display its operation. Or a person might suppose a son to be an enemy, as Merope did ; or that the spear really pointed was rounded off; or that the stone was a pumice ; or in striking with a view to save might kill ; or might strike when merely wishing to show another, as people do in sham- fighting. Now since ignorance is possible in respect to all these details in which the action consists, he that acted in ignorance of any of them is thought to have acted involuntarily, and he most so who was in ignorance as regards the most important, which are thought to be those in which the action con- sists, and the result. Eegret is Further, not only must the ignorance be of this necessary a contradiction in terms to speak of a man's being ignorant of his own Motive of action. • When the man " drew a bow at a venture and smote the King of Israel between the joints of the harness ;" ( 1 Kings xxii. 34.) he did it evfKa rod a7r6KTeivai the King of Israel, in the primary sense of iveica : that is to say, the King's death was in fact the result, but could not have been the motive, of the shot, because the King was disguised, and the shot was at a venture. CHAP. III. ETHICS. 77 kind to constitute an action involuntary, but it to make an must be also unders by pain and regret. must be also understood that the action is followed ToiuiTtOTy CHAP. III. Voluntary Action deflued. Actions which are caused by Anger or Lust are not therefore involuntary. Now since all involuntary action is. either upon compulsion or by reason of ignorance. Voluntary Definition Action would seem to be " that whose origination L Jao°" is in the agent, he being aware of the particular ''°°' details in which the action consists." For, it may be, men are not justified in calhng Actions those actions involuntary, which are done by reason from^ln-^ ofAngerorLust.- f--,Yn!' Because, in the first.place, if this be so, no other p'j|.^°**''y; animal but man, and not even children, can be said^™- to act voluntarily. Next, is it meant that we never Second^ act voluntarily when we act from Lust or Anger, or that we act voluntarily in doing what is right, and- involuntarily in doing what is discreditable? The latter supposition is absurd, since the cause is one and the same. .Then as to the former, it is a strange thing to maintain actions to be involuntary which we are bound to grasp at : now there are occasions on which anger is a duty", and there are ' Bp. Butler would agree to this : he says of settled deliberate anger, " It seems in us plainly connected with a sense of virtue • and vice, of moral good and evil." See the whole Sermon on Resentment. 78 ARISTOTLE'S book hi. things which we are bound to lust after ^ health, for instance, and learning. Third rea- Again, whereas actions strictly involuntary are °'"'* thought to be attended with pain, those which are done to gratify lust are thought to be pleasant. Fourth, Again : hojv does the involuntariness make any difference « between wrong actions done from de- liberate calculation, and those done by reason of anger ? for they both ought to be avoided, and the irrational feehngs are thought to be just as natural to man as reason, and so of course must be such actions of the individual as are done from Anger and Lust. It is absurd then to class these actions among the involuntary. CHAP. IV. On Moral Choice. Reason for Having thus drawu out the distinction between voluntary and involuntary action, our next step is ' Aristotle has, I venture to think, rather quibbled here, by using iniBvuia and its verb, equivocally: as there is no following his argument without condescending to the same device, I have used our word lust in its ancient signification. Ps. xxxiv. 12. " What man is he that lustelh to live ?" * The meaning is, that the onus probandi is thrown upon the person who maintains the distinction ; Aristotle has a prim& facie case. The whole passage is one of difficulty. Cardwell's text gives the passage from 8ok« 8e as a separate argument. Bekker's seems to intend at 8e irpa^eis as a separate argument: but if so, the argument would be a mere petitio principii. I have adopted Cardwell's reading in part, but retain the comma at aiujia, and have translated the last four words as applying to the whole discussion, whereas Cardwell's reading seems to restrict them to the last argument. CHAP. IV. ETHICS. 79 to examine into the iiature of Moral Choice, be- Moral cause this seems most intimately connected with °"'^' Virtue, and to be a more decisive test of moral character than a man's acts are. Now Moral Choice is plainly voluntary, but the which is two are not coextensive, voluntary being the more tensive comprehensive term: for first, children and alireoi'eaof,* other animals share in voluntary action, but not int^Jy'™' Moral Choice', and next, sudden actions we call voluntary, but do not ascribe them to Moral Choipe. Nor do they appear to be right who say it is lust or anger, or wish,- or opinion of a certain it is not kind ; because in the first place. Moral Choice is First rea- . not shared by the irrational animals, while Lust°°"' and Anger are. Next ; the man who fails of self- Second, control, acts from Lust but not firom Moral Choice ; the man of self-control, on the contrary, from Moral Choice, not firom Lust. Again : whereas Lust is Third, frequently opposed to Moral Choice, Lust is not to Lust. Lastly : the object-matter of Lust is the pleasant Fourth. and the painful, but of Moral Choice neither the one nor the other. Still less can it be Anger, nor Anger, because actions done from Anger are thought generally to be least of all consequent on Moral Choice. Nor is it Wish either, though appearing closely nor wish, connected with it ; because, in the^ first place. First rea- Moral Choice has not for its objects impossibihties,'™' and if a man were to say he chose them, he would be thought to be a fool: but Wish may have impossible things for its objects, immortality for instance. 80 ARISTOTLE'S book hi. Second rea- Wish again may be exercised on things in the accomphshment of whicl^one's self could have no- thing to do, as the success of any particular actor or athlete : but no man chooses things of this nature, only such as he believes he may himself be instrumental in procuring. Third. Further : Wish has for its object the End rather> but Moral Choice the means to the End; for instance, we wish to be healthy, but we choose the means which will make us so ; or happiness again we wish for, and commonly say so, but to say we choose is not an appropriate term, because, in short, the province of Moral Choice seems to be those things which are in our own power. Nor Dpi- Neither can it be Opinion : for Opinion is thought First rea- to be Unlimited in its range of objects, and to be ^™' exercised as well upon things eternal and impos- sible, as on those which are in our own power : Second, again. Opinion is logically divided into true and false, not into good and bad, as Moral Choice is. Nor opi- However, nobody perhaps maintains its identityi: rai mat- with Opinion simply ; but it is not the same with Fiirstrea. Opinion of any kind**, because by choosing good °™' and bad things, we are constituted of a certain cha- racter, but by having opinions on them we are not. Second. Again, we choose to take or avoid, and so on, but we opine what a thing is, or for what it is *» i. e. on objects of Moral Choice ; opinion of this kind is not the same as Moral Choice, because actions alone form habits and constitute character : opinions are in general signs of character, but when they begin to be acted on they cease to be opinions, and merge in Moral Choice. " Treason doth never prosper : what's the reason ? When it doth prosper, none dare call it Treason." CHAP. V. ETHICS. 81 serviceable, orhp^Y: but- we do not opine to take or avoid. Further, Moral Choice is commended rather for Third, having a right object than for being judicious, but Opinion for being formed in accordance with truth. Again, we choose such things as we pretty well Fourth. know to be good, but we form opinions respecting such as we do not know at all. And it is not thought that choosing and opining Fifth, best always go together, but that some opine the better course, but by reason of viciousness choose not the things which they should. It may be urged, that Opinion always precedes Opinion or accompanies Moral Choice; be it so, this makes 0^00000- no difference, for this is not the point in question, p^"'®'"" but whether Moral Choice is the same as Opinion of a certain kind. Since then it is none of the aforementioned things ; what is it, or how is it characterized ? Voluntary it plainly is, but not all voluntary action is an object of Moral Choice. May we not say then, it is that voluntary which has passed through Moral a stage of previous deliberation ? because Moral defined. Chpice is attended with reasoning and intellectual process. The etymology of its Greek- name seems to give a hint of it, being when analysed " chosen in, preference to somewhat else." CHAP. V. Of Deliberation. Well then ; . do men deliberate about every thing, ^^""^'^^^ and is any thing soever the object of Deliberation, liberation ? 82 ARISTOTLE'S book hi. or are there some matters with respect to which there is none. (It may be as well perhap* to say, that by " object of Deliberation" is m^ant such matter as a sensible man would dehberate upon, not what any fool or madman might.) Excluded Well : about eternal things no one dehberates ; are things, /. . , • i • eternal, as, for mstauce, the imirerse, or the mcommensu- rability of the diameter and side of a square. regularly Nor again about things which are in motion, but which always happen m the same way either necessarily, or naturally, or from some other cause,^ as the solstices or the sunrise. irregularly jsfoj. about thosc which are variable, as drought variable, "-' and rains ; nor fortuitous matters, as finding of treasure. human ^or iu fact cveu about all human affairs ; no matters which do Lacedaemonian, for instance, dehberates as to the not coneem /• i n i ■ ourseWes. best coursc tor the Scythian government to adopt ; because in such cases we have no power over the result. Remaining, But we do deliberate respecting such practical all S11CD. 3lS are in our matters as are m our own power, (which are what own power, ^^^ j^^ ^^^^ ^^ ^^^ eXclUsioUS.) r have adopted this division, because causes seem to be divisible into nature, necessity, chance, and moreover intellect, and all human powers. And as man in general deliberates about what indivi- man in general can effect, so individuals do about such practical things as can be effected through their own instrumentality. Further Again, We do not deliberate respecting such arts limitation. . , . or sciences as are exact and independent : as, for instance, about written characters, because we have no doubt how they should be formed: but CHAP. V. ETHICS. 83 we do deliberate on all such things as are usually done through our own instrumentality, not in- variably in "the same way ; as, for instance, about matters connected with the healing art, or with money-making; and, again, more about piloting ships than gymnastic exercises, because the former has been less exactly deternjined, and so forth : and more about arts than sciences, because we more frequently doubt respecting the former. So then Deliberation takes place in such matters General as are under general laws, but still uncertain how of th" ma" in any given case they will issue, and in which beratioo!' there is some indefiniteness : and for great matters we associate coadjutors in counsel, distrusting our own ability to settle them alone. Further, we deliberate not about Ends, but Means Not Ends, to Ends : no physician, for instance, dehberates Means to whether he will cure, nor orator whether he will the matter persuade, nor statesman whether he will produce a good constitution, nor in fact any man in any other function about his particular End : but having Xheprooess set before them a certain End, they look how and bhrough what means it may be accomplished: if there is a choice of means, they examine further ivhich are easiest and most creditable ; or if there s but one means of accomplishing the object, then low it may be thxough this, this again through ivhat, till they come to the first cause : and this wrill be the last found; for a man engaged in a arocess of deliberation seems to seek and analyse, as I man, to solve a problem, analyses the figure given lim. And plainly not every search is Deliberation, ;hose in mathematics to wit, but every Deliberation The order s a search, and the last step in the analysis is the reve°se^ g2 of delibe- ration. 84 ARISTOTLE'S book hi. of that of the first in tlie constructive process. And if in mim!' the course of their search men come upon an impossibility, they give it up ; if a man wants money, for instance, and cannot get it : but if the thing appears possible, they then attempt to do it. And, by possible, I mean what may be done through our own instrumentality : (of course what may be done through our friends is through our own instrumentahty in a, certain sense, because the origination in such cases rests with us.) And the object of search is sometimes the necessary instruments, sometimes the method of using them; and similarly in the rest sometimes through what, and sometimes how or through what '. So it seems, as has been said, that Man is the originator of his actions : and Dehberation has for its object whatever may be done through one's own instrumentality, and the actions are with a Ends are view to other things ; and so it is not the End, nottheob- Ij^^ ^Yie Means to Ends, on which Deliberation is lectotl^eii- beration. employed. Nor mat- Nor, again, is it employed on matters of detail, taifcog^.^ as whether the substance before me is bread, or nizabieby jja,s been properly cooked : for these come under the senses. l r j the province of sense, and if a man is to be always deliberating, he may go on ad infinitum. Further, exactly the same matter is the object both of Deliberation and Moral Choice ; but that which is the object of Moral Choice is thence- , ' The introduction of the words Sia tIvos seem a mere useless repetition, as in the second Chapter iv tIvc added to wtpl n. These are among the many indications that the treatise is a collection of notes for lectures, and not a finished or systematic one. CHAP. V. ETHICS. 85 forward separated off and definite >■, because by object of Moral Choice is denoted that which after DeHberation has been preferred to something else : for each man leaves off searching how he shall do a thing when he has brought the origination up to himself, i. e. to the governing principle in himself, because it is this which makes the choice. A good illustration of this is .furnished by the old regal constitutions which Homer drew from, in which the Kings would announce to the com- monalty what they had determined before. Now since that which is the object of Moral Choice is something in our own power, which is the object of deliberation and the grasping of the WiU, Moral Choice must be " a grasping after some- Definition thing in our own power consequent upon De-chdc™' hberation :" because after having deliberated we decide, and then grasp by our Will in accordance Vfith. the result of our deliberation °'. '' Suppose that three alternatives lay before a man, each of tlie three is of course an object of Deliberation ; when he has made his choice, the alternative chosen does not cease to be in its nature an object of Deliberation, but superadds the character of being chosen, and so distinguished. Three men are admitted candidates for an office : the one chosen is the successful candidate ; so of the three ySouXeura, the one chosen is the PtnAevrbv irpoaipeTov. ' Compare Bp. Butler's " System of Human Nature," in the Preface to the Sermons. " These words, ex tov ^ovXeicracrdai — ^ov\ev(Tiv, contain the iccoimt of the whole mental machinery of any action. The first step is a Wish, implied in the first here mentioned, viz. Delibera- tion, for it has been already laid down that Deliberation has for its jbject-matter means to Ends supposed to be set before the mind : hs next step is Deliberation, the next Decision, the last the iefinite extending of the mental hand towards the object thus selected ; the two last constitute npoalpea-ig in its full meaning. 86 ARISTOTLE'S book hi. Let this be accepted as a sketch of the nature and object of Moral Choice, that object being " Means to Ends." CHAP. VI. Of Wish. Twotheo- That Wish has for its object-matter the End, thl object has been already stated ; but there are two of Wish. QpjjjJQjjs respecting it, some thinking that its The word ope^is means literally " a grasping at or after':" now as this physically may be either vague or definite, so too may the men- tal act: consequently the term as transferred to the mind has two uses, and denotes either the first wish, j3ou\);o-«s, or the last definite movement. Will in its strict and proper sense. These two uses are recognised in the Rhetoric, (I. 10.) Where opr|ts is divided into aXgyos and XoytoT«^. The illustration then afforded by the polities alluded to is this : as the Kings first decided and then announced their decision for acceptance and execution by their subjects, so Reason, having decided on the course to be taken, communicates its decision to the Will, which then proceeds to move to opyavKa /tip^. To instance in an action of the mixed kind mentioned in the first chapter: safe arrival at land is naturally desired ; two means are suggested, either a certain loss of goods, or trying to save both lives and goods : the question being debated, the former is chosen ; this decision is communicated to the Will, which causes the owner's . hands to throw overboard his goods : the act is denominated voluntary, because the Will is consenting; -but in so denominating it, we leave out of sight how that consent was obtained. In a purely compulsory case the agent never gets beyond the stage of Wish, for no means are in his power, and deliberation therefore is useless : consequently there is neither Decision nor Will, in other words, no Choice. CHAP. VI. ETHICS. 87 object is real good, and others whatever impresses the mind with a notion of good. Now those who maintain that the object of Wish The dim- is properly real good are beset by this difficulty, Sn^*' that what is wished for by him who chooses ''°*- Ifrongly is not really an object of Wish, (because, on their theory, if it is an object of Wish, it must be good, but it is, in the case supposed, evil.) Those who maintain, on the contrary, that that which impresses the mind with a notion of good is properly the object of Wish, have to meet this difficulty, that there is nothing naturally an object of Wish, but to each individual whatever seems good to him ; -now different people have different notions, and it may chance contrary ones. felt, if these opinions do not satisfy us, may we Aristotle's say that abstractedly, and as a matter of objective ^° " ™' truth, the really good is the object of Wish, but to each individual whatever impresses his mind with the notion of good". And so to the good man that is an object of Wish which is really and truly so, and to the bad man any thing may be, just as phyi^ally those things are wholesome to the Physical healthy which are iseaUy so, but other things to' the sick. And so too of bitter and sweet, and hot and heavy, and so on. For the good man judges in every instance correctly, and in every instance the notion conveyed to his mind is the true one. Por there are fair and pleasant things peculiar to, md so varyiQg with, each state : and perhaps the " Compare the statement in the Rhetorip, I. 10. ftrn 8' ij fuv Jo^Xijo-ts AyaSov Spelts (ouSeis yap ^mikerai cOCK' ^ orav oljiBfj ehai of error. 88 ARISTOTLE'S book iiiV most distinguishing characteristic of the good man is his seeing the truth in every instance, he being, as it were, the rule and measure of these matters. Pleasure The multitude of men seem to be deceived by monTurce reason of pleasure, because though it is not really a good, it impresses their minds with the notion of goodness, so they choose what is pleasant as good, and avoid pain as an evil. CHAP. VII. On the Free Agency of Man. Virtue is Now since the End is the object of Wish, and voluntary; ^^^ ^^^^^ ^^ ^j^^ g^^j ^^ Deliberation and Moral Choice, the actions regarding these matters must be in the way of IVloral Choice, i. e. voluntary: but the acts of working out the virtues are such actions, and therefore Virtue is in our power, and Vice And SO too is Vicc : because wherever it is in *''"■ our power to do, it is also in our power to forbear doing, and vice versa : therefore if the doing (being in a given case creditable) is in our power, so too is the forbearing, (which is in the same case discreditable,) and vice versa. But if it is in our power to do and to forbear doing what is creditable or the contrary, and these respectively constitute the being good or bad, then the being good or vicious characters is in our power. As for the well-known saying, " No man vblim- tarily is wicked or involuntarily happy," it is partly true, partly false : for no man is happy against his CHAP. VII. ETHICS. 89 will, of course, but wickedness is voluntary. Or vice is vo- must we dispute the statements lately made, and'""'"^' not say that Man is the originator or generator of since Man his actions as much as of his children, his^o^**^ But if this is matter of plain manifest fact, and'''"'""'' we cannot refer our actions to any other origina- tions beside those in our own power, those things must be in our own power and so voluntary, the originations of which are in om-selves. Moreover, testimony seems to be borne to; these The free- positions, both privately, by individuals, and by wm°is' ^ lawgivers too, in that they chastise and punish geSeved "or those who do wrong, (unless they do so on com-™^")™^^ pijlsion, or by reason of ignorance which is not^pon^e i« i\i-ii 1 1 1 assumption sell-caused,) while they honour those who act of the fact. rightly, under the notion of being hkely to en- courage the latter and restrain the former. But such things as are not in our^own power, i. e. not voluntary, no one thinks of encouraging us to do, knowing it to be of no avail for one to have been persuaded not to be hot, or cold, or himgry, and so forth, because we shall have those sensations all the same. And what makes the case stronger is this : that Even ig- the;f chastise for the very fact of ignorance, when punMted" it is thought to be self-caused : to the drunken, ^^ftoaused for instance, penalties a,re double, because the origination in such case lies in a man's own self: for he might have helped getting drunk, and this is the cause of his ignorance. Again, those also who are ignorant of legal or at least regulations which they are bound to know, and "eln pre"-^* which are not hard to know, they chastise : and'^"'^**" similarly in all other cases where neglect is thought 90 ARISTOTLE'S book hi- to be the cause of the ignorance, under the notion that it was in their power to prevent their ig- norance, because they might have paid attention. A defensive But perhajis a man is of such a character that the answer he canuot attend to such things : still men are themselves the causes t)f having become such chaaracters by living carelessly, and also of.beijiig unjust or destitute of self-control, the former by doing evil actions, the latter by spending their time in drinking and -such like, because the parti- cular acts of working form corresponding charac- ters, as as shewn by those who are practising for any contest or particular course of action, for such men persevra-e in the acts of working. A further As fof the plea, that a man did not know that the answer habits are produced from separate acts of working, *"''' we reply, such ignorance is a mark of excessive' stupidity. Confirmed Furthermore, it is wholly irrelevant to say that habUs, the man who acts unjustly or dissolutely does not thr^jeot' s****^ to attain the habits of these vices : for if a wish^'yl? ^^^ wittingly does those things whereby he must arevoiun- become unjust, he is to all intents and pux^oses cause the unjust volmitaaily ; but he cannot with a wish origination • i i ■ t-i was so. cease to be unjust and become just. For to take the analogoms case, the .sick man cannot with a wish be well again, yet in a supposable case he is voluBfeaiily ill, because he has produced his sick- ness by living intemperately .and disregaardin^g his physicians. There was a time then when he might have helped being iU, bust now lie has let himself go he cannot any longer ; just as he who has let a stone out of his kaxtd. canniot recal it°, and yet it ° A stone once set in motion cannot be recalled, because iit is CHAP. vn. ETHICS. 91 rested with him to throw it, because the or^nation was in his power. Just so the unjust man,; and he who has lost all self-jcontrol, might originally have helped being what they are, and so they are voluntarily what they are : and now that they #re become so, they no longer have the power of being otherwise. And not only are mental diseases voluntary, but Physical the bodily are so in some men, whom we accord- *°*°^'*'" ingly blame: for such as are naturally deformed no one blames, only such- as are so by reason of want of exercise, and neglect : and so too of weakness and maiming; no one would think of upbraiding, but would rather compassionate, a man who is blind by nature, or from disease, or from an accident : but every one would blame him who was so from excess of wine, or any other kind of intemperance. It seems, then, that in respect of bodily diseases, those which depend on ourselves are censured, those which do not are not censured : and if so, then in the case of the mental disorders,, those which are censured must depend upon our- selves. But suppose a man to say, " that (by our own Piea of the admission) aU men aim at that which conveys totadans." their minds an impression of (good, and that men have no control over this impression, but that the End impresses each with a notion correspondent to then >jflSLXie& under the operation of natural laws, which cannot be controlled or altered s so too in Moral declension, there is a point at which gravitation operates irretrievably, " there is a certain bound to imprudence and misbehavioui;, which being transgressed, there remains no place for repentance in the natural course of things." Bp, Bufler's Analogy, First Part, ichap. ii. 92 ARISTOTLE'S ' book in. his own individual character; that to be sure if each man is in a way the cause of his own moral state, so he will be also of the kind of impression he receives : but if this is not so, no one is the cause to himself of doing evil actions, but he does them by reason of ignorance of the true End, supposing that through their means he will secure the chief good. Further, that this aiming at the End is no matter of one's own choice, but one must be bom with a power of mental vision, so to speak, whereby to judge fairly, and choose that which is really good ; and he is blessed by nature who has this naturally well : because it is the moat important thing and the fairest, and what a man cannot get or learn from another, but will have such as nature has given it ; and for this to be so given well and fairly, would be excellence of nature in the highest and truest sense." Answer, If all this be true, how will Virtue be a wHt mentpioves more Voluntary than Vice ? because alike to the ati°d™ppUesgood man and the bad, the End gives its impression, as well M ^^^ ^^ fixed by natiue or howsoever you like to say, ^ioe. and they act so and so, referring every thing else to this End. Whether then we suppose the End to impress each man's mind with certain notions not merely by nature, but there is somewhat also dependent on himself; or that the End is given by nature, and yet Virtue is voluntary, because the good man does all the rest voluntarily. Vice must be equally • so ; because his own agency equally attaches to the bad man in the actions, even if not in the selection of the End. If then, as is commonly said, the Virtues are CHAP. VIII. ETHICS, 93 voluntary, (because we at least cooperate p in producing our moral states, and we assume the End to be of a certain kind according as we are ourselves of certain characters,) the Vices must be voluntary also, because the cases are exactly similar. CHAP. VIII. Recapitulation of points settled respecting Moral Virtue. Well now, we have stated generally respecting six points the Moral Virtues, the genus (in outline), that' they are mean states, and that they are habits, and how they are formed, and that they are of themselves calculated to act upon the -circum- stances out of which they were formed, and that they are in our own power and voluntary, and are to be done so as right Reason may direct. But the particular actions and the habits are not HaMts are voluntary in the same sense : for of the actions we rectify vi- are masters from beginning to end, knowing thep™*t?'2i^ particular details ; but only of the origination of *''*'°°'- the habits, the addition by small particular acces- sions not being cognizable, as is the case with sicknesses : still they are voluntary, because it rested with us to use our circumstances this way or that. ^ Habits being formed by acting in a certain way under certain circumstances, we can only choose how we will act, not what circumstances we will have to act under. 94 ARISTOTLE'S book ni. CHAP. IX. The Moral Virtues descrited in detail. First, of Courage. Here we will resume the particular discussioa of the Moral Virtues, and say what they are, what is their object matter, and how they stand respec- tively related to it : and, of course, their number will be thereby shown. First, then, of Courage. Now that it is a mean state, in respect of fear and boldness, has been already said : further, the objects of our fears are obviously things fearful,' or in a general way of statement, evils; which. accounts for the common definition of fear, viz. expectation of evil. The object- Of coiu-se we fear evils of all kinds; disgrace for the Bra^e iustance, poverty, disease, desolateness, death ; but ed ' not all these seem to be the object-matter of the Brave man, because there are things which to fear is right and noble, and not to fear is base ; disgrace^ for example, since he who fears this is a good man and has a sense of honour, and he who does not fear it is shameless, (though there are those who call him Brave by analogy, because he somewhat resembles the Brave man who agrees with him in being free from fear;) but poverty, perhaps, or disease, and in fact whatever does not proceed from viciousness, nor is attributable to his own fault, a man ought not to fear : still, being fearless in respect of these, would not constitute a man Brave in the proper sense of the term. Yet we do apply the termi in right of the simi- ^1 " Moral Courage" is our phrase. CHAP. IX. ETHICS. 96 larity of the cases : for there are men who, though timid in the dangers of war, are liberal men, and are stout enough to face loss of wealth. And, again, a man is not a coward for feasring insult to his wife or children, or envy, or any such thing ; nor is he a Brave man for being bold, when going to be scourged. What kind of fearfiil things then do constitute the object-matter of the Brave man ? first of all, must they* not be the greatest, since no man is more apt'to withstand what is dreadful. Now the object of the greatest dread is death, because it is to death the end of all things, and the dead man is thought to be capable neither of good nor evil. Still it would seem, that the Brave man has not for his object-matter even death in every circumstance ; on the sea, for example, or in sickness : in what circumstances then ? must it not be in the most honourable? now such is death in war, because in war. it is death in the greatest and most honourable danger : and this is confirmed by the honours awarded in communities, and by monarchs. He then may be most properly denominated Definition Brave, who is fearless in respect of honourable BrayeMan. deaths and such sudden emergencies as threaten death ; now such specially are those which arise in the course of war. It is not meant but that the Brave Man will be fearless also on the sea, (and in sickness,) but not in the same way sus sea^faring men : for these are light-hearted and hopeful by reason of their ex- perience, while landsmen though Brave are apt to give themselves up for lost, and shndder at the notion of such a death : to which it should be 96 ARISTOTLE'S book in. added, that Gourage is exerted in circumstances which admit of doing something to help one's self, or in which death would be honourable ; now neither of these requisites attach to destruction by drowning or sickness. CHAP X. Courage continued. * Again, fearful is a term of relation/ the same thing not being so to all, and there is according to common parlance somewhat so fearful as to be beyond hiiman endurance : this of course would be fearful to every man of sense, but those objects which are level to the capacity of man differ, in magnitude and admit of degrees, so too the objects of confidence or boldness. Now the Brave man cannot be frighted from his propriety, (but of coxurse only so far as he is man;) fear such things indeed he will, but he will stand up against them as he ought, and as right reason may direct, with a view to what is honourable, because this is the end of virtue. Now it is possible to fear these things too much, or too Httle, or again to fear what is not really Erroneous fearful as if it were such. So the errors come to respect of ^^ either that a man fears when he ought not to fear feirand°of ^* ^^^' °^ *^^* ^^ ^^^^^ i^ ^" improper wayi or at a confidence, wroug time, and so forth: and so too in respect of things inspiring confidence. He is Brave then who withstands, and fears, and is bold, in respect of right objects, from a right motive, in right manner, and at right timqg : since the Brave man suffers or acts as he ought, and as right reason may direct. CHAP. X. ETHICS. 97 Now the end of every separate act of working is that which accords with the habit, and so to the Brave man Cottrage; which is honourable; there- fore such is also '%m the End, since the character of each is determined by the End'. So honour is the motive from which the Brave man withstands things fearful, and performs the acts which accord Avith Courage. Of the characters on the side of Excess, he who states in exceeds in utter absence of fear has no appropriate utter fear- name, (I observed before that many states have *^™®™' none,) but he would be a madman or inaccessible to pain if he feared nothing, neither earthquake, nor the billows, as they tell of the Celts. He again who exceeds in confidence in respect Too much of things fearfiil is rash. He is thought moreover to be a braggart, and to advance unfounded claims to the character of Brave: the relation which the Brave man really bears to objects of fear, this man wishes to appear to bear, and so imitates ' him in whatever points he can : for this reason most of them exhibit a curious mixture of rashness and cowardice : because affecting rashness in these circumstances they do not withstand what is truly fearfiil. ' The meaning of this passage can scarcely be conveyed except by a paraphrase. " The object of each separate act of working is that which accords with the habit they go to form; Courage is the habit which separate acts of bravery go to form, therefore the object of these is that which accords with Courage, i. e. Courage itself. But Courage is honourable (which implies that the end and object of it is honour, since things are denominated according to their end and object,) therefore the object of each separate act of bravery is honour. H 98 ARISTOTLE'S book hi. Too much The man moreover who exceeds in feeling- fear is a coward, since there attach to him the circum- stances of fearing wrong objects, in wrong ways, and so forth. He is deficient also in feeling con- fidence, but he is most clearly seen as exceeding in the case of pains ; he is a fainthearted kind of man, for he fears all things : the Brave man is just the contrary, for boldness is the property of the light-hearted and hopeful. So the coward, the rash, and the Brave man have exactly the same object-matter, but stand differently related to it : the two first-mentioned respectively exceed, and are deficient, the last is in a mean state, and as he ought to be. The rash again are precipitate, and being eager before danger, when actually in it fall away, while the Brave afe quick and sharp in action, but before are quiet and composed. Well then, as has been said. Courage is a mean state in respect of objects inspiring boldness or fear, in the circumstances which have been stated> and the Brave man chooses his hne, and withstands danger, either because to do so is honovirable, or Suicide no because not to do so is base. But dying to escape Courage, ffom poverty, or the pangs of love, or any thing of cowarf- that is simply painful, is the act, not of a Brave "'^" man, but of a coward : because it is mere softn^s^ to fly from what is toilsome, and the suicide braves the terrors of death, not because it is honourable, but to get out of the reach of evil. CHAP. XI. ETHICS. 99 CHAP. XL Of the Spurious or Imperfect forms of Courage. Courage proper is somewhat of the kind I have Five Spa- described, but there are dispositions differing in of Courage, five ways% which also bear in common parlance the name of Courage. We will take first that which bears most resem- First. blance to the true, the Courage of Citizenship, so named, because the motives which are thought to actuate the members of -a community in braving danger are the penalties and disgrace held out by the laws to cowardice, and the dignities conferred on the Brave ; which is thought to be the reason why those are the bravest people among whom cowards are visited with disgrace, and the Brave held in honour. Such is the kind of Courage Homer exhibits in his characters; Diomed and Hector for example. The latter says, Polxdamas will be the first to fix Disgrace upon me. Diomed again. For Hector surely will hereafter say. Speaking in Troy, Tydides by my hand — This I say most nearly resembles the Courage before spoken of, because it arises firom virtue, from a feeling of shame, that is, and a desire of what is noble, (that is, of honour,) and avoidance of disgrace, which is base. ' For true Courage is required, I. Exact appreciation of danger. 2. A Proper motive for resisting fear. Each of the Spurious kinds will be found to fail in one or other, or both. h2 100 ARISTOTLE'S book hi. In the same rank one would be inclined to place those also who act under compulsion from their commanders; yet are they really lower, because not a sense of honour, but fear is the motive from which they act, and what they seek to avoid is not that which is base, but that which is simply painful : commanders do in fact compel their men sometimes, as Hector says, (to quote Homer again,) " But whomsoever I shall find cowering afar from the fight. The teeth of dogs he shall hy no means escape." Those commanders who station staunch troops by doubtful ones', or who beat their men if they flinch, or who draw their troops up in line with the trenches, or other similar obstacles, in their rear, do in effect the same as Hector, for they all use compulsion. But a man is to be Brave, not on compulsion, but from a sense of honour. Second. In the next place. Experience and Skill in the various particulars is thought to be a species of Courage : whence Socrates also thought that Courage was knowledge". This quahty is exhibited of course by different men under difierent circumstances, but in warlike matters, with which we are now concerned, it is exhibited by the soldiers : for there are, it would seem, many things in war of no real importance', • This may merely mean, " who give strict orders" not to flinch, which would imply the necessity of compulsion. The word is capable of the sense given above, which seems more forcible. " See Book vi. Chap. 13. near the end. SfflKponjs fth oSv X6yovs Tas dperlis ^ero eivai (imarrjims yhp elvai iratras.) ' Such as the noise, the rapid movements, and apparent con- "HAP. XI, ETHICS, 101 which these have been constantly used to see ; so they have a show of Courage, because other people are not aware of the real nature of these things. Then again by reason of their skill they are better able than any others to inflict without suffering themselves, because they are able to use their arms, and have such as are most serviceable both with a view to offence and defence : so that their case is parallel to that of armed men fighting with unarmed, or trained athletes with amateurs, since in contests of this kind those are the best fighters, not who are the bravest men, but who are the strongest, and are in the best condition. In fact, the" regular troops come to be cowards, whenever the danger is greater than their means of meeting it, supposing, for example, that they are inferior in numbers and resources: for then they are the first to fly, but the mere mihtia stand and fall on the ground, (which as you know really happened at the Hermaeum",) for in the eyes of these flight was disgraceful, and death preferable to safety bought at such a price : while the regu- lars originally went into the danger under a notion of their own superiority, but on discovering their error they took to flight", having greater fear of fusion which to an inexperienced eye and ear would be alarming. So Livy says of the Gauls, v. 37. Nata in vanos tumultus gens. " In Coronea in Boeotia, on the occasion of the citadel being betrayed to some Phocians. The regulars were Boeotian troops, the irokiTiKci Coroneans. ' By the difference of tense it seems Aristotle has mixed up two things, beginning to speak of the particular instance, and then carried into the general statement again. This it is scarce worth while to imitate. 102 ARISTOTLE'S book hi. death than of disgrace : but this is not the feeling of the Brave man. Third. Thirdly, mere Animal Spirit is sometimes brought under the term Courage : they are thought to be Brave who are carried on by mere Animal Spirit, . as are wild beasts against those who have wounded them, because in fact the really Brave haVe much Spirit, there being nothing like it for going at danger of any kind; whence those frequent ex- pressions in Homer, " infiised strength into his spirit," " roused his strength and spirit," or again, " and keen strength in lus nostrils," " His blood boiled :" for all these seem to denote the arousing and impetuosity of the Animal Spirit. Now they that are truly Brave act from a sense of honour, and this Animal Spirit co-operates with them : but wild beasts from pain, that is, because they have been wounded, or are frightened, since if they are quietly in their own haunts, forest or marsh, they do not attack men. Surely they are not Brave, because they rush into danger when goaded on by pain and mere Spirit, without any view of the danger : else would asses be Brave when they are hungry, for though beaten they will not then leave their pasture : profligate men besides do many bold actions by reason of their lust. We may conclude then that they are not Brave, who are goaded on to meet danger by pain and mere Spirit, but still this temper which arises from Anjmal Spirit appears to be most natural, and would be Courage of the true kind, if it could have added to it moral choice and the proper motive. So men also are pained by a feeling of anger, and take pleasure in revenge : but they who fight CHAP. XI. ETHICS. 103 from those causes may be good fighters, but they are not truly Brave, (in that they do not act from a sense of honour nor as reason directs, but merely from the present feeling,) still they bear some resemblance to that character. Nor, again, are the Sanguine and Hopeful there- Fourth. fore Brave : since their boldness in dangers arises from their frequent victories over numerous foes. The two characters are alike, however, in that both are confident, but then the Brave are so from the afore-mentioned causes, whereas these are so from a settled conviction of their being superior, and not Hkely to suffer any thing in return ; (they who are intoxicated do much the same, for they become hopeful when in that state;) but when the event disappoints their, expectations, they run away : now it was said to be the character of a Brave man to withstand things which are fearful to man, and present that appearance, because it is honourable so to do, and the contrary is dishonourable. For this reason it is thought to be a proof of greater Courage to be fearless and undisturbed under the pressure of sudden fear than under that which may be anticipated beforehand, because Courage then comes rather from a fixed habit, or less from preparation : since a man might take his line as to foreseen dangers even from calcu- lation and reasoning, but in those which are sudden he will do so according to his fixed habit of mind. Fifthly and lastly, those who are acting under Fifth. Ignorance have a show of Courage, and are not very for from the Hopeful ; but still they are inferior, inasmuch as they have no opinion of themselves; which the others have, and therefore stay and 104 ARISTOTLE'S book hi/ contest a field for some little time : but they who have been deceived fly the moment they know things to be otherwise than they supposed, which the Argives experienced when they fell on the Lacedaemonians, taking them for the men of Sicyon. CHAP. XII. Additional Notes upon Courage. We have described then what kind of men the Brave are, and what they who are thought to be, but are not really. Brave. Objects of It must be remarked, however, that though thanThos^e' Courage has for its object-matter boldness and dence are ^^^^} ^^ ^^ ^^^ ^oth equally SO, but objects of fear, the object- much morc than the former : for he that under matter of Courage, pressure of these is undisturbed and stands relatedi to them as he ought, is better entitled to the name of Brave than he who is properly affected towards- objects of confidence. So then men are termed Brave for withstanding painfal things, which lain It foUows, that Courage involves pain, and is act pain u,j^g^jy praised, since it is a harder matter to with- stand things that are painful than to abstain fi:om such as are pleasant. It must not be thought but that the End and object of Courage is pleasant, but it is obscured by the surrounding circumstances : which happens also in the gymnastic games ; to the boxers the End is pleasant with a view to which they act, I mean the crown and the honours ; but the receiving the CHAP, xn. ETHICS. 105 blows they do is painful and annoying to flesh and blood, and so is all the labour they have to undergo; and as these drawbacks are many, the object in view being small appears to have no pleasantness in it. If then we may say the same of Covu-age, of comrse death and wounds must be painfiil to the Brave man and against his will : still he endures these, because it is honourable so to do, or because it is dishonourable not to do so. And the more in propor- 1 I 1 ' * A. ii'i ■ 1 tion to the complete his virtue and his happiness, so much good the more will he be pained at the notion of death -Z^^^^^' since to such a man as he is it is best worth while to live, and he with full consciousness is deprived of the greatest goods by death, and this is a painful idea. But he is not the less Brave for feehng it to and,in pro- be so, nay, rather it may be he is shown to be its pahifai- more so, because he chooses the honour that mayabil.' be reaped in war in preference to retaining safe possession of these other goods. The fact is, that to act with pleasure does not belong to all the virtues, except so far as a man reahzes the End of his actions. But there is perhaps no reason why not such The most men should make the best soldiers, but those who no" Lee J-^ are less truly Brave but have no other good to^egty*® care for: these being ready to meet danger, and^^^^^' bartering their Uves against small gain. Let thus much be accepted as sufficient on the subject of Courage ; the true nature of which it is not difficult to gather; in outhne at least, from what has been said. 106 ARISTOTLE'S book hi. CHAP. XIII. Of Perfected Self- Mastery. Next let us speak of Perfected Self-Mastery, which seems to claim the next place .to Coujrage, since these two are the Excellences of the Irrational part of the Soul. Division of That it is a mean state, having for its obiect- Fleasnres. ' o j ' matter Pleasures, we have already said, (Pains being in fact its object-matter in a less degree and dissimilar manner,) the state of utter absence of self-control has plainly the same object-matter; the next thing then is to determine what kind of Pleasures. Let Pleasures then be understood to be divided into mental and bodily : instances of the former being love of honour or of learning : it being plain that each man takes pleasure in that of these two objects which he has a ^teiidency to like, his body being no way affected, but rather his intellect. Mental Now men are not called perfectly self-mastering or not the ob- wholly destitut^ of self-control in respect of plear of'^rvir!'sures of this is mod est, but not Great-minded : since this latter quality implies greatness, just as beauty implies a large bodily conformation, while small people are neat and well made, but not beautiful. Again, he who values himself highly without just grounds is a yain_m an : though the name must not be applied to every case of unduly high self-estimation. He that values himself below his real worth is Small-minded, and whether that worth is great, moderate, or small, his own estimate falls below it. And he is the strongest case of this error, who is really a man of great worth, for what would he have done, had he not been worth so much. The Great-minded man is then, as far as great- ness is concerned, at the summit, but in respect of propriety he is in the mean, because he estimates himself at his real value : (the other characters respectively are in excess and defect.) Since then he justly estimates himself at a high, or rather at the highest possible, rate, his character will have respect specially to one thing : this term " rate" has reference of course to external goods : and of these we should assume that to be the greatest which we attribute to the gods, and which is the special object of desire to those who are in power, and which is the prize proposed to the most honour- able actions : and honour answers to these de- scriptions, being the greatest of external goods. So the Great-minded man bears himself as he ought in respeqt of honour and dishonour. In fact, without need of words, the Great-minded plainly have honour for their object-matter : since 130 ARISTOTLE'S book it. honour is what the great consider themselves specially worthy of, and according to a certain rate. The Small-minded man is deficient, both as regards himself, and also as regards the estimation of the Great-minded : while the Vain man is in excess as regards himself, but does not get beyond the Great-minded man. Now the Great-minded man, being by the hjrpothesis worthy of the greatest things, must be of the highest excellence, since the better a man is, the more is he worth, and he who. is best is worth the most: it follows then, that to be truly Great-minded a man must be good, and whatever is great in each virtue would seem to belong to the Great-minded. It would no way correspond with the character of the Great-minded to flee spreading his hands all abroad ; nor to injure any one ; for with what object in view will he do what is base, in whose eyes nothing is great ? in short, if one were to go into particulars, the Great-minded man would show quite ludicrously, unless he were a good man : he would not be iii fact deserving of honour, if he were a bad man, honour being the prize of virtue, and given to the good. This virtue, then, of Great-mindedness seems to be a kind of ornament of all the other virtues, in that it makes them better, and cannot be without them; and for this reason it is a hard matter to be really and truly Great-minded: for it cannot be without thorough goodness and nobleness of character. Honour then, and dishonour, are specially the object-matter of the Great-minded man : and at CHAP. IV. ETHICS. 131 such as is great, and given by good men, he will be pleased moderately, as getting his own or perhaps somewhat less, for no honour can be quite adequate to perfect virtue : but still he Avill accept this, because they have nothing higher to give him. But such as is given by ordinary people and on trifling grounds he will entirely despise, because these do not come up to his deserts : and dis- honour hkewise, because in his case there cannot be just ground for it. Now though, as I have said, honour is specially the object-matter of the Great-minded man, I do not mean but that likewise in respect of wealth and power, and good or bad fortune of every kind, he will bear himself with moderation, fall out how they may, and neither in prosperity will he be overjoyed, nor in adversity will he be unduly pained. For not even in respect of honour does he so bear himself ; and yet it is the greatest of all such objects, since it is the cause of power and wealth being choiceworthy, for certainly they who have them desire to receive honour through them. So to whom honour even is a small thing, to him will all other things also be so ; and this is why such men are thought to be superciUous. It seems too, that pieces of good fortune con- tribute to form this character of Great-mindedness : I mean, the nobly born, or men of influence, or the wealthy, are considered to be entitled to honour, for they are in a position of eminence, and whatever is eminent by good is more entitled to honour : and this is why such circumstances dispose men rather to Great-mindedness, because they receive honour at the hands of some men. V 132 ARISTOTLE'S book n. Now really and truly the good man alone is entitled to honour ; only if a man unites in himself goodness with these external advantages, he is thought to be more entitled to honour : but they who have them, without also having virtue, are not justified in their high estimate of themselves, nor are they rightly denominated Great^minded ; since perfect virtue is one of the indispensable conditions to such a character. Further, such men become supercilious and in- solent, it not being easy to bear prosperity well without goodness ; and not being able to bear ity and possessed with an idea of their own superiority to others, they despise them, and do just whatever their fancy prompts; for they mimic the Great- minded man, though they are not like him, and they do this in such points as they can, so without doing the actions which can only flow from real goodness, they despise others. Whereas the Great- minded man despises on good grounds, (for he forms his opinions truly,) but the mass of men do it at random. Moreover, he is not a man to incur little risks, nor does he court danger, because there ai'e but few things he has a value for ; but he will incur great dangers, and when he does venture, he is prodigal of his life, as knowing that there are terms on which it is not worth his while to live. He is the kind of man to do kindnesses, but he is ashamed to receive them ; the former putting a man in the position of superiority, the latter in that of in- feriority; accordingly he will greatly overpay any kindness done to him, because the original actor will thus be laid under obligation, and be in the CHAP. IV. ETHICS. 133 position of the party benefitted. Such men seem like- wise to remember those they have done kindnesses to, but not those from whom they have received them : because he who has received is inferior, to him who has done the kindness, and our friend wishes to be superior ; accordingly he is pleased to hear of his own kind acts, but not of those done to himself, (and this is why, in Homer, Thetis does not mention to Jupiter the kindnesses she had done him, nor did the Lacedaemonians to the Athenians, but only the benefits they had re- ceived.) Further, it is characteristic of the Great-minded man to ask favo\irs not at all, or very reluctantly, but to do a service very readily ; and to bear him- self loftily towards the great or fortunate, but towards people of middle station affably; because to be above the former is difficult and so a grand thing, but to be . above the latter is easy ; and to be high and mighty towards the former is not ignoble, but to do it towards those of humble station would be low and vulgar ; it would be like showing strength against the weak. And again, not to put himself in the way of honour, nor to go where others are the chief men ; and to be remiss and dilatory, except in the case of some great honour or work ; and to be concerned in few things, and those great and famous. It is a property of him also to be open, both in his dis- likes and his likings, because concealment is a con- sequent of fear. Likewise to be careful for reahty rather than appearance, and talk and act openly, (for his contempt for others makes him a bold man, for which same reason he is apt to speak the 134 ARISTOTLE'S book iv. truth, except where the principle of reserve comes in,) but to be reserved towards the generality of men. And to be unable to live with reference to any other but a fiiend ; because doing so is servile, as may be seen, in that all flatterers are low, and the low are flatterers. Neither is his admiration easily excited, because nothing is great in his eyes ; nor does he bear malice, since remembering any thing, and specially wro'ngs, is no part of Great-mindedness, but rather overlooking them ; nor does he talk of other men, in fact, he will not speak either of himself, or of any other ; he neither cares to be praised himself, nor to have others blamed; nor again does he praise freely, and for this reason he is not apt to speak ill even of his enemies, except to show contempt and insolence. And he is by no means apt to make lamentf or requests about things which are necessary or trivial: because to be thus disposed wdth respect to these things is consequent only upon real anxiety about them. Again, he is the kind of man to acquire what is beautiftd and unproductive, rather than what is productive and profitable : this being rather the part of an independent man. Also slow motion, deep toned voice, and deh- berate style of speech, are thought to be character- istic of the Great-minded man: for he who is earnest about few things, is not hkely to be in a hurry, nor he who esteems nothing great to be very intent: and sharp tones and quickness are the result of these. CHAP. V. ETHICS. 135 CHAP. V. Of The Extremes. This then is my idea of the Great-minded man ; and he who is in the defect is a Small-minded man, he who is in the excess, a Vain man. However, as we observed in respect of the last character we discussed, these extremes are not thought to be vicious exactly, but only mistaken, for they do no harm. The Small-minded man, for instance, being really worthy of good, deprives himself of his deserts, and seems to have somewhat faulty, from not having a sufficiently high estimate of his own desert, in fact, from self-ignorance: because, but for this, he would have grasped after what he really is entitled to, and that is good. Still such charac- ters are not thought to be foolish, but rather laggards. But the having such an opinion of themselves, • seems to have a deteriorating effect on the character: because in aU cases men's aims are regulated by their supposed desert, and thus these men, under a notion of their own want of desert, stand aloof from honourable actions and courses, and similarly from external goods. But the Vain are foohsh and self-ignorant, and that palpably : because they attempt honourable things, as though they were worthy, and then they are detected. They also set themselves off, by dress, and carriage, and such like things, and desire that their good circumstances may be seen. J36 ARISTOTLE'S book it. and they talk of them, under the notion of receiv- ing honour thereby. Small-mindedness is op- posed to Great-mindedness, rather than Vanity, because it is more commonly met with, and is worse. CHAP. VL Of Love of Honour. Well, the virtue of Great-mindedness has for its object great Honour, as we have said: and there seems to be a virtue having Honour also for its object, (as we stated in the former book,) which may seem to bear to Great-mindedness the same relation that Liberality does to Magnificence : that is, both these virtues stand aloof from what is great, but dispose us as we ought to be disposed towards moderate and small matters. Further : as in giving and receiving of wealth there is a mean state, an excess, and a defect, so likewise in grasping after Honour, there is the more or less than is right, and also the doing so from right sources, and in right manner. For we blame the lover of Honour as aiming at Honour more than he ought, and from wrong sources; and him who is destitute of a love of Honour, as not choosing to be honoured even for what is noble. Sometimes again we praise the lover of Honour as manly, and having a love for what is noble, and him who has no love for it as being moderate and modest, (as we noticed also in the former discussion of these virtues.) CHAE. VI. ETHICS. 137. It is clear then that since Lover of so and so is a term capable of several meanings, we do not always denote the same quality by the term " Lover of Honour;" but when we use it as a term of commendation, we denote more than the mass of men are; when for blame, more than a man should be. And the mean state having no proper name, the extremes seem to dispute for it as unoccupied ground: but of course where there is excess and defect, there must be also the mean. And in point of fact, men do grasp at Honour more than they should, and less, and sometimes just as they ought; for instance, this state is praised, being a mean state in regard of Honour, but without any appro- priate name. Compared with what is called Ambition, it shows like a want of love for Honour, and compared with this, it shows like Ambition, or compared with both, like both faults: nor is this a singular case among the virtues. Here the extreme characters appear to be opposed, because the mean one has no name appropriated to it. CHAP. vn. Of Meekness. Meekness is a mean state, having for its object- matter Anger: and as the character in the mean has no name, and we may almost say the same of the extremes, we . give the name of Meekness (leaning rather to the defect, which has no name either) to the character in the mean. 138 ARISTOTLE'S book iv. The excess may be called an over-aptness to Anger : for the passion is Anger, and the producing causes many and various. Now he who is angry at what, and with whom, he ought, and ftirther, in right manner and time, and for proper length of time, is praised, so this man will be Meek, since Meekness is praised. For the notion represented by the term Meek man, is the being imperturbable, and not being led away by passion, but being angry in that manner, and at those things, and for that length of time, which Reason may direct. This character however is thought to err rather on the side of defect, inasmuch as he is not apt to take revenge, but rather to make allowances and forgive. And the defect, call it Angerless^ ness, or what you will, is blamed : I mean, they who are not angry at things at which they ought to be angry, are thought to be fooHsh, and they who are angry not in right manner, nor in right time, nor with those with whom they ought ; for a man who labours under this defect, is thought to have no perception, nor to be pained, and to have no tendency to avenge himself, inasmuch as he feels no anger : now to bear with scurrility in one's own person, and patiently see one's own friends suffer it, is a slavish thing. As for the excess, it occurs in all forms; men are angry with those with whom, and at things with which, they ought not to be, and too hastily, and for too great a length of time. I do not mean, however, that these are combined in any one person : that would in fact be impossible, because the evil destroys itself, and if it is developed in its full force, it becomes unbearable. CHAP. VII. ETHICS. 139 Now those whom we term the Passionate are soon angry, and with people, and at things with and at which they ought not, and in an excessive degree, bu t they so on cool again, whicli_is_J;he best point about the m. And this results from their not repressing their anger, but repaying their enemies, (in that they show their feehngs by reason of their vehemence,) and then they have done with it. The Choleric again are excessively vehement, and are angry at every thing, and on every oc- casion ; whence comes their Greek name, signifying that their choler lies high. The Bitter-tempered are hard to reconcile, and keep their anger for a long while, because they repress the. feeling : but when they have revenged themselves, then comes a lull ; for the vengeance destroys their anger by producing pleasuire in lieu of pain. But if this does not happen, they keep the weight on their minds : because, as it does not show itself, no one attempts to reason it away, and digesting anger in one's self takes time. Such men are very great nuisances to themselves and to their best friends. Again, we call those Cross-grained who are angry at wrong objects, and in excessive degree, and for too long a time, and Who are not appeased without vengeance, or at least punishing the offender. To Meekness we oppose the excess rather than the defect, because it is of more common oc- currence : for human nature is more disposed to take than to forego revenge. And the Cross- 140 ARISTOTLE'S book iv. grained are worse to live Avith [than they who are too phlegmatic] Now from what has been here said, that is also plain which was said before. I mean, it is no easy matter to define how, and with what persons, and at what kind of things, and how long one ought to be angry, and up to what point a person is right or is wrong. For he that transgresses the strict rule only a little, whether on the side of too much or too little, is not blamed : sometimes we praise those who are deficient in the feehng, and call them Meek, sometimes we call the irritable Spirited, as being well qualified for government. So it is not easy to lay down, in so many words, for what degree or kind of transgression a man is blameable : because the decision is in particulars, and rests therefore with the Moral Sense. Thus much, however, is plain, that the mean state is praise- worthy, in virtue of which we are angry with those with whom, and at those things with which, we ought to be angry, and in right manner, and so on ; while the excesses and defects are blameable, slightly so if only slight, more so if greater, and when considerable very blameable. r It is clear, therefore, that the mean state is what we are to hold to. This then is to be taken as our account of the various moral states which have Anger for their object-matter. CHAP. VIII. ETHICS, 141 CHAP. VIII. Of Friendliness. Next, as regards social intercourse, and inter- change of words and acts, some men are thought to be Over-Complaisant who, with a view solely to giving pleasure, agree to every thing, and never oppose, but think their line is to give no pain to those they are thrown amongst : they, on the other hand, are called Cross and Contentious who take exactly the contrary line to these, and oppose in every thing, and have no care at all whether they give pain or not. Now it is quite clear of course, that the states I have named are blameable, and that the mean between them is praiseworthy, in virtue of which a man v?ill let pass what he ought as he ought, and also will object in -hke manner. However, this state has no name appropriated,' but it is most like Friendship ; since the man who exhibits it is just the kind of man whom we would call the amiable friend, with the addition of strong earnest af- fection ; but then this is the very point in which it differs from Friendship, that it is quite independent of any feeling or strong affection for those among whom the man mixes : I mean, that he takes every thing as Ihej ought, not from any feeling of -love or hatred, but simply because his natural dis- position leads him to do so ; he will do it alike to those whom he does know, and those whom he does not, and those with whom he is intimate, and 142 ARISTOTLE'S book iy. those with whom he is not ; only in each case as propriety requires, because it is not fitting to care aUke for intimates and strangers, nor again to pain them ahke. It has been stated in a general way, that his social intercourse will be regulated by propriety, and his aim will be to avoid giving pain aiiJ to contribute to pleasure, but with a constant re- ference to what is noble and expedient. His proper object-matter seems to be the plea- sures and pains which arise out of social inter- course, but whenever it is not honourable, or even hurtfiil to him to contribute to pleasure, in these instances he will run counter and prefer to give pain. Or if the things in question involve unseemliness to the doer, and this not inconsiderable, or any harm, whereas his opposition will cause some little pain, here he will not agree, but will run counter. Again, he will regulate differently his intercourse with great men and with ordinary men, and with all people according to the knowledge he has of them ; and in like manner, taking in any other differences which may exist, giving to each his due, and in itself preferring to give pleasure, and cautious not to give pain, but still guided by the results, I mean, what is noble and expedient, according as they preponderate. Again, he will inflict -trifling pain with a view to consequent pleasure. Well, the man bearing the mean character is pretty well such as I have described him, but he has no name appropriated to him : of those who CHAP. IX. ETHICS. 143 try to give pleasure, the man who simply and dis- interestedly tries to be equable is called Over- Complaisant, he who does it with- a view to secure some profit in the "way of wealth, or those things which wealth may procure, is a Flatterer : I have said before, that the man who is " always non- content" is Cross and Contentious. Here the ex- tremes have the appearance of being opposed to one another, because the mean has no appropriated name. CHAP. IX. Of Truthfulness. The mean state which steers clear of Exaggeration has pretty much the same object-matter as the last we described, and Ukewise has no name appro- priated to it. Still it may be as well to go over these states : because, in the first place, by a particular discussion of each, we shall be better acquainted with the general subject of moral cha- racter, and next we shall be the more convinced that the virtues are mean states, by seeing that this is universally the case. In respect then of living in society, those who carry on this intercourse with a view to pleasure and pain have been already spoken of; we will now go on to speak of those who are True and False , alike in their words and deeds, and in the claims which they advance. Now the Exaggerator is thought to have a tendency to lay cMmlo thingsTeflecting credit on 144 ARISTOTLE'S book iv. him, both when they do not belong to him at all, and also in greater degree than that in which they really do: whereas the Reserved man, on the contrary, denies those which really belong to him, or else depreciates them, while the mean character being a Plajn-matter-of-fact person is Truthful in life and word, admitting the existence of what does really belong to him, and making it neither greater nor less than the truth. It is possible of course to take any of these lines either with or without some further view ; but in general men speak, and act, and hve, each according to his particular character and dispo- sition, unless indeed a man is acting from any special motive. Now since falsehood is in itself low and blame- able, while truth is noble and praiseworthy, it follows that the Truthful man (who is also in the mean) is praiseworthy, and the two who depart from strict truth, are both blameable, but espe- cially the Exaggerator. We will now speak of each, and first of the Truthful man : I call him Truthful, because we are not now meaning the man who is true in his agreements, nor in such matters as amoimt to justice or injustice, (this would come within the province of a different virtue,) but in such as do not involve any such serious difference as this, the man we are describing is true in life and word,' simply because he is in a certain moral state. And he that is such must be judged to be a good man : for he that has a love for Truth as such, and is guided by it in matters indifferent, will be so likewise even more in such as are not indifferent ; CHAP. X. ETHICS. 145 for surely he will have a dread of falsehood as base, since he shunned it even in itself: and he that is of such a character is praiseworthy, yet he leans rather to that which is below the truth, this having an appearance of being in better taste, because exaggerations are so hateful. As for the man who lays claim to things above what really belongs to him without any special motive, he is hke a base man, because he would not otherwise have taken pleasure in falsehood, but he shews as a fool rather than as a knave. But if a man do^s this with a special motive, suppose for honour or glory, as the Braggart does, then he is not so very blameworthy, but if, directly or indirectly, for pecuniary considerations, he is more unseemly. Now the Braggart is such, not by his power but by his purpose, that is to say, in virtue of his moral state, and because he is a man of a certain kind ; just as there are liars who take pleasure in false- hood for its own sake, while others lie from a desire of glory or gain. They who exaggerate with a view to glory, pretend to such qualities as are followed by praise or highest congratulatiorl ; they who do it with a view to gain, assume those which their neighbours can avail themselves df, and the absence of which can be concealed, as a man's being a skilful soothsayer or physician ; and accordingly most men pretend to such things, and exaggerate in this direction, because the faults I have mentioned are in them. The Reserved, who depreciate their own qualities, have the appearance of being more refined in their characters, because they are not thought to speak L 146 ARISTOTLE'S book iv. with a view to gain, but to avoid grahdetif : one very common trait in such characters is their denying common current opinions, which Socrates used to do. There are people vvho lay claiiii falsely to small things, and things the falsity of their pretensions to which is obvious ; these are called Factotums, and are very despicable. This very Reserve sometimes shows like Exagge^ ration ; take, for instance, the excessive plainness of dress affected by the Lacedaemonians : in fact, both excess and the extreme of deficiency, partake of the nature of Exaggeration. But they whb practise Reserve in moderation, and in cases in which the truth is not very obvious and plain, give an impression of refinement. Here it is the Exaggerator (as being the worse character) who appears to be opposed to the Tnithfiii Man. CHAP. X. Of Jocularity. Next, as life has its pa;uses, and in them admits of pastime combined with JoculiEirity, it is thottght that in this respect also there is a kind of fit'tirig intercourse, and that rules may be prescribed as to the kind of things one should say, and the mariner of saying them ; and in respect of hearing likfewiSe, (and there will be a difference between the saying and hearing such and "siich things.) It is pilain that in regard to these things also there WiH be an excess and defect, and a riiean. CHAP. X. ETHICS. 147 Now they who exceed in the ridiculous, are judged to be Buflfoons and Vulgar, catching at it in any and every way, ^nd at any cost, and aiming rather at raising laughter than at saying what is seemly, and at avpiding to pain the object of their wit. They, on the other baud, who would not for the world make S) joke themselves, and are dis- pleased Yiitb such as do, are thought to be Clownish and Stem. But they who are Joqular in good taste, are denominated by a Greek term expressing pro- perly ease of movement, because such are thought to be, as one may say, motions of the moral cha^ racter ; and as bodies are judged of by their motions, so too are moral characters. Now as the ridiculous lies on the surfape, and the majority of men take more pleasure than they ought in Jocidarity iand Jesting, the Buffoons too get this name of Easy Pleasantry, as if refined and gentlemanlike ; but that they differ from these and considerably too, is plain from what has been said. One quahty which belongs to the mean state is Tact : it is characteristic of a man of Tact to say and listen to such things as are fit for a good man and a gentleman to say and listen to : for there are things which are becoming for such a one to say and listen to in the way of Jocularity, and there is a difference between the Jocularity of that gentleman, and that jof the Vulgarian ; and again, between that of the educated and uneducated man. This you may see from a comparison of the Old «nd New Comedy : in the former, obscene talk made the ftm ; in the latter, it is rather inuendo : and this is no shght difference as regnrds l2 148 ARISTOTLE'S book iv. Well then, are we to characterize him who jests well by his saying what is becoming a gentleman, or by his avoiding to pain the object of his wit, or even by his giving him pleasure ? or will not such a definition be vague, since different things are hateful and pleasant to different men. Be this as it may, whatever he says, such things will he also listen to, since it is commonly held that a man will do what he will bear to hear: this must, however, be limited ; a man will not do quite all that he will hear : because jesting is a species of scurrility, and there are some points of scurrility forbidden by law ; it may be, certain points of jesting should have been also so for- bidden. So then the refined and gentlemanhke man will bear himself thus, as being a law to himself. Such is the mean character, whether de- nominated the man of Tact, or of Easy Pleasantry. ' But the buffoon cannot resist the ridiculous, sparing neither himself nor any one else, so that he can but raise his laugh, saying things of such kind as no man of refinement would say, and" some which he would not even tolerate, if said by others in his hearing. The Clownish man is for such intercourse wholly useless : inasmuch as contributing nothing jocose of his own, he is savage with all who do. Yet some pause and amusement in life are gene- rally judged to be indispensable. The three mean states which have been de- scribed do occur in life, and the object-matter of all is interchange of words arid deeds. They differ, in that one of them is concerned with truth, and the other two with the pleasurable : and of these ''HAP. XI. ETHICS. 149 two again, the one is conversant with the jocosities of life, the other with all other points of social intercourse. CHAP. XI. Of Shame. To speak of Shame as a Virtue is incorrect, because it is much more like a feehng, than a moral state. It is defined, we know, to be a kind of fear of disgrace, and its effects are similar to those of the fear of danger, for they who feel Shame grow red, and they who fear death turn pale. So both are evidently in a way physical, which is thought to be the mark of a feeling, ■ rather than a moral state. Moreover, it is a feeling not suitable to every age, but only to youth: we do think that the young should be Shame-faced, because since they> live at the beck and call of passion, they do much that is wrong, and Shame acts on them as a check. In fact, we praise such young men as are Shame- faced, but no one would ever praise an old man for being given to it, inasmuch as we hold that he ought not to do things which cause Shame ; for Shame, since it arises at low bad actions, does not at all belong to the good man, because such ought not to be done at all : nor does it make any difference to allege, that some things are disgraceful really, others oijly because they are thought so, for neither should be done, so that a man ought not to be in the position of feeling Shame. In ISO ARISTOTLE'S ETHICS. book it. t*tt*di, Vo be such a man as to do any -thing dis- gra'ceful> is the part of a feully character. And for a man to be such that he would feel Shame if he should do any thing disgraceful, and to think that this constitutes him a good man, is absurd: be- cause Shame is felt at voluntary actions only, and a good man will never voluntarily do what is base. True it is, that Shame may be good on a certain supposition, as " if a man should do such things, he would feel Shame :" but then the Virtues are good in themselves, and not merely in supposed cases. And granted, that impudence and the not being ashamed to do what is disgraceful is base ; it does not the more follow, that it is good for a man to do such things, and feel Shame. Nor is Self-Control properly a Virtue, but a kind of mixed state : however, all about this shall be set forth in a fixture Book. BOOK V. CHAPTER I. Prefatory remarks. The different senses of Justice ascertained from those of Injustice. Now the points for our enquiry in respect of Justice and Injustice are, what kind of actions are their object-matter, and what kind of a mean state Justice is, and between what points the abstract principle of it, i. e. the Just, is a mean. And our enquiry shall be, if you please, conducted in the same method as we have observed in the foregoing parts of this Treatise. We see then that all men mean, by the term The popu- Justice, a moral state such that in consequence of tL terms it men have the capacity of doing what is just, i^^„gtf(,^ and actually do it, and wish if: similarly also with respect to Injustice, a moral state such that in consequence of it men do unjustly, and wish what is unjust : let us also be content then with these as a groimd-work sketched out. I mention the two, because the same does not why both hold with regard to states whether of mind or^i™^!"' * Each term is important: to make up the character of Justice, men must have the capacity, do the acts, and do them from moral choice. 162 ARISTOTLE'S book v. States, of body, as with regard to Sciences or Faculties : body, how I mean, that whereas it is thought that the same from Fa- Faculty or Science embraces contraries, a state Science" ^^^ ^°^ ' ^^vci health, for instance, not the con- trary acts are done, but the healthy ones only ; for we say a man walks healthily when he walks as the healthy man would. They may However, of the two contrary states the one he ascer- ■' tained from may be frequently known from the other, and their con- „. , „ ,. traries. otteutimes the states from their subject-matter : if it be seen clearly what a good state of body is, then is it also seen what a bad state is, and from the things which belong to a good state of body the good state itself is seen, and vice versa. If, for instance, the good state is firmness of flesh, it follows that the bad state is flabbiness of flesh ; and whatever causes firmness of flesh is connected with the good state. The equi- It foUows moreover in general ^ that if of two Tocations , , ,i • i • of contrary Contrary terms the one is used m many senses, so gJ^raHy,' also will the other be ; as, for instance, if " the equal in ' j^Bt/' then also " the Uniust." Now Justice and number. ' " Injustice do seem to be used respectively in many senses, but because the line of demarcation between these is very fine and minute % it commonly escapes notice that they are thus used, and it is not plain and manifest, as where the various significations of ' But not always. iiXelv, for instance, has two senses, " to love" and " to kiss," /lurelv hut one. Topics, I. chap. xiii. 5, " Things are ofuawjia which have only their name in common, heing in themselves different. The Afuamfila is close therefore when the difference though real is hut slight. There is no English expression for oiuavvjiia, " equivocal" being applied to a lerm, and not lo its various significates. CHAP. I. ETHICS. 163 terms are widely different : -for in these last the difference is really great, as, for instance, the word kXcls is used equivocally to denote, the bone which is under the neck of animals, and the instrument with which people close doors. Let it be ascertained then in how many senses The equi- the term " Unjust man" is used. Well, he who the term violates the law, and he who is a grasping man, °''™' and the unequal man, are all thought to be Uniust : and so manifestly the Just man will be, *"''> ^™™ " , •' them, those the man who acts according to law, and the equal of the term man. " The Just" then wiU be the lawful and the equal, and " the Unjust" the unlawful and the unequal. Well, since the Unjust man is also a grasping The ob- man, he will be so, of course, with respect to goodofthrun-"^ things, but not of every kind, only those which are^"''™*°' the subject-matter of good and bad fortune, and which are in themselves always good, but hot always to the individuar. Yet men pray for and pursue these things : this they should not do, but pray that things which are in the abstract good may be so also to them, and choose what is good for themselves. But the Unjust man does not always choose who always fccillv actually the greater part, but even sometimes the though not less; as in the case of things which are simply pa'J^ntV?" evil : still, since the less evil is thought to be in a^^H^l ^^^ manner a good, and the grasping is after good,^^^^^°f therefore even in this Case he is thought to be a grasping man, i. e. one who strives for more good '' See Book I. chap. 1. touivtjjv 8e nva nXavtjV ex" ""' ™yaOa, K. T. \. 154 ARISTOTLE'S book v. than feirly falls to his share : of course he is also an imequal man, this being an inclusive and com- mon term. GHAP. II. Of Justice in that.sense in which it is coextensive with Virtue. " Just" We said that the violator of Law is Unjust, and fui" are*^' the keeper of the Law Just: further, it is plain sense'co- ^^^^ ^^ Lawful things are in a manner Just, extensive; because by Lawftil we understand, what have been defined by the legislative power, and each of these we say is Just. The Laws too give directions on all points, aiming either at the common good of all, or that of the' best, or that of those in power, (taking for the standard real goodness, or adopting some other such estimate ;) in one way we mean by Just, those things which are apt to produce and preserve happiness and its ingredients for the social community. Law being Fiu-ther, the Law commands the doing the positive, deeds not only of the brave man, as. not leaving merely a the ranks, nor flying, nor throwing away one's rafe of'ai- ^^"^^ ' ^^^ thosc also of the perfectly self-mastering *'o°- man, as abstinence from adultery and wantonness ; and those of the meek man, as refraining from striking others or usijig abusive language : and in like manner in re^spect of the other virtues and vices, commanding some things and forbidding others, righ'tly if it is a good law, in a way some- what inferior if it is one extemporised. CHAP. II. ETHICS. 165 Now this Justice is in fact perfect Virtue, yet Justice, in not simply so, but as exercised towards one's is coox"-'*' neighbour : and for this reason Justice is thought vJrtuer""' oftentimes to be the best of the Virtues, and ".jieither Hesper nor the Morning-star So worthy of our admiration :" and in a proyeubial saying we express the same ; " All virtue is in Justice comprehended." Ajud it is in a special sense perfect Virtue, because it is the practice of perfect Virtue. And perfect itapeciaUy is, because he that has it is able to practise higblcaus'e re- virtue towards his neighbour, and not merely on^l^ieiu himself ; I mean, there are many who can practise 1,^^^'^'*'' virtue in the regulation of their own personal v conduct, who are wholly imable to do it in trans- actions with their neighbqur. And for this reason that saying of Bias is thought to be a good one, " Rule will show what a man is ;" for he who bears Rule is necessarily in contact with others, and in a community. And for this same reason Justice alone of all the Virtues is thought to be a good to others, because it has immediate relation to some other person, in- asmuch as the Just man does what is advan- tsgeous either to his ruler or fellow-subject. Now he is the basest of men who practises vice not only in his own person", but towards his friends ' A man habitually drunk in private is viewed by our law as confining his vice to himself, and the law therefore does not attempt to touch him : a religious hermit may be viewed as one \Vho confines his virtue to his own person. 156 ARISTOTLE'S book v. also ; but he the best who practises virtue not merely in his own person, but towards his neigh- bour, for this is a matter of some difficulty. However, Justice in this sense is not a part of Virtue, but is coextensive with Virtue ; nor is the Injustice which answers to it a part of Vice, but It is in iact coextensive with Vice. But wherein Justice in Moraistate this sBuse differs from Virtue appears from what adTffererhas been said: it is the same really, but th& P"'"'' point of view is not the same : in so far as it has respect to one's neighbour it is Justice, in so far as it is such and such a moral state, it is simply Virtue. CHAP- ni. That there is particular Injustice, and therefore particular Justice. But the object of our enquiry is Justice, in the sense in which it is a part of Virtue, (for there is such a thing, as we commonly say,) and .likewise. There is with rcspect to particular Injustice. And of the leTexten- cxistence of this last, the following consideration vlce'^firet is a proof: there are many vices, by practising because which 3, man acts uniustly of course, but does not grasping . mayor may gj-asp at morc than his share of eood ; if, for not enter f ^ , „ t i i into injus- instauce, by reason oi cowardice he throws away his shield, or by reason of ill-temper he uses abusive language, or by reason of stinginess does not give a friend pecuniary assistance ; but when- ever he does a grasping action, it is often in the way of none of these vices, certainly not in all of CHAP. III. ETHICS. 167 we blame him,) and in the way of Injustice. There is then some kind of Injustice distinct from that coextensive with Vice, and related to it as a part to a whole, and some " Unjust," related to that which is coextensive with violation of the law, as a part to a whole. Again, suppose one man seduces a man's wife Secondly, . . the same With a View to gam, and actually gets some ad- crime is vantage by it', and another does the same from rieweTao- impulse of lust, at an expense of money and"t°dt8?M*' damage; this latter will be thought to be rather p°yg°^'"' destitute of self-mastery than a grasping man, and'°g- the former Unjust, but not destitute of self- mastery : now why ? plainly because of his gaining. Again, all other acts of Injustice we refer to Thirdly, some particular depravity, as if a man commits the general adultery, to abandonment to his passions; if j^g"*"* •"■" - crimes deserts his comrade, to cowardice ; if he strikes intowL^ another, to anger : but if he gains by the act, to no of%° s''^ other vice than to Iniustice. hsTethere- Thus it is clear that there is a kind of Injustice ciai name, different from and besides that which includes all matje^of *" Vice, having the same name because the definition ^^'Ijgt"^" is in the same genus ; for both have their force in *"4 °*^.*^** dealings with others, but the one acts upon honour, coextensive , , /. , 1 -with Vice, or wealth, or safety, or by whatever name we can distin- include all these things, and is actuated by pleasure ^"" attendant on gain, while the other acts upon all things which constitute the sphere of the good man's action. ' See the account of Sejamis and Livia. Tac. Annal. iv. 3. 168 ARISTOTLE'S book V. CHAP. IV. The Justice coextensive with Virtue is dismissed from fiirther consideration. R^capitu- Now that there is more than one kind of Justice, lAtioiii and that there is one which is distinct from, and besides that which is coextensive with, Virtue, is plain : we must next ascertain what it is, and what are its characteristics. Well, the Unjust has been divided into the unlawful and the unequal, and the Just accordingly into the lawful and the equal : the aforementioned Injustice is in the way of the unlawful. And as the unequal and the more*' are not the same, but differing as part to whole, (because all more is unequal, but not all unequal more,) so the Unjust and the Injustice we are now in search of are not the same vfith, but other than, those before men- tioned, the one being the parts, the other the wholes ; for this particular Injustice is a part of the Injustice coextensive with Vice, and likewise this Justice, of the Justice coextensive with Virtue. So that what we have now to speak of is the particular Justice and Injustice, and likewise the particular Just and Unjust. * Cardwell's text, which here gives jrapai/ofioi', yields a much easier and more natural sense. All Injustice violates law, but only the particular kinds violate equality ; and therefore the unlawful : the unequal : : universal Injustice : the particular, i. e. as whole to part. There is a reading which also alters the words within the paren- thesis, but this hardly affects the gist of the passage. CHAP. IV. ETHICS. 159 Here then let us dismiss any further consideration Justice an j of the Justice and Injustice ranking as coextensive coextenSve with Virtue, the one being the practice of Virtue J^e*!!^'^" in all its bearings, the latter of Vice towards others. X^iggg^ It is clear too, that we must separate off the Just J"™ ^"'■- . . -, _ -t tner con- arid the Unjust involved in these: because one "deration, may pretty well say, that most lawful things are those which naturally result in action from Virtue in its fullest sense, because the law enjoins the living in accordance with ieach Virtue, and forbids living in accordance with each Vice. And the producing causes of Virtue in all its bearings are those enactments which have been made respecting education for society. By the way, as to individual education, in respect The ques- of which a man is simply good, without reference ther Etwcs to others, whether it is the province of TroAtn/c^iong'tort- or some other science, we must determine at aief'^eL future time : for it may be, it is not the same thing to be a good man and a good citizen in every case •". '' There are two reasons why the characters are not neeessarily coincident. He is a good citizen, who does his best to carry out the TToXtre/a under which he lives, but this may be faulty, so there- fore pro tanto is he. Again, it is sufficient, so far as the Community is concerned, that he does ihe facts of a good man: but for the perfection of his own individual character, he must do them virtuously. A man may move rightly in his social orbit, without revolving rightly on his own axis. The question is debated in the Politics, iii. 2. Compaie also the distinction between the brave man, and good soldier, •( supra, feook iii. chap. 12.) ahd ^Iso "Bp. Butler's first Sernion. 160 ARISTOTLE'S book v. CHAP. V. The division of Particular Justice into two species. Particular Now of the Particular Justice, and the Just in- Distribu- volved in it, one species is that which is concerned "^' in the distributions of honour, or wealth, or. such other things as are to be shared among the mem- bers of the social community, (because in these, one man as compared with another may have or Correc- either an equal or an unequal share,) and the other transac- IS that which IS Corrective in the various trans- tionsyolun- .• i , i tary, actions between man and man. And of this latter there are two parts : because of transactions, some are voluntary, and some involuntary; voluntary, such as follow; selling, buying, use, bail, borrowing, deposit, hiring : and this class is called voluntary, because the origi- nation of these transactions is voluntary. or inyoiun- The involuntary again are either such as affect ar7secret, sccrecy ; as theft, adultery, poisoning, pimping, kid- napping of slaves^assassination, false witness; or or violent, accompanied with open violence ; as insult, bonds, death, plundering, maiming, foul language, slan- derous abuse. CHAP. VI. That Distributive Justice implies four, proportional terms. Well, the unjust man we have said is unequal, and the abstract " Unjust" unequal : further, it is plain that there is some mean of the unequal, that CHAP. VI. ETHICS. 161 is to say, the equal or exact half, (because in whatever action there is the greater and the less, there is also the equal, i, e. the exact half.) If then the Unjust is unequal, the Just is equal. The Just which all must allow without further proof: and'"^''"^'' as the equal is a mean, the Just must be also a and a mean. Now the equal imphes two terms at least : "^''"" it follows then that the Just is both a mean and equal, and these to certain persons; and in so far And each ... , .. T . f 1 • of these as it IS a mean, between certam thmgs, (that is,impiiestwo the greater and the less,) and so far as it is equal, between two, and in so far as it is just, it is so to certain persons. The Just then must imply four The Just terms at least, for those' to which it is just areimpUe"^ two, and the terms representing the things are *^°'""^*™^' two. And there will be the same equality between and the the terms representing the persons, as between twem the those representing the things: 'because as thej^^^g^^^"'' latter are to one another, so are the former: for^4"a'- if the persons are not equal, they must not have equal shares ; in fact, this is the very source of all the quarrelling and wrangling in the world, when either they who are equal have and get awarded to them things not equal, or being not equal, those things which are equal. Again, the necessity of(Whiohis this equality of ratios is shown by the common eom™on^ phrase "according to rate," for all agree that the^^°s"^s^-^ Just in distributions ought to be according to some rate : but what that is to be, all do not agree, but the democrats are for freedom, oligarchs for wealth, Others for nobleness of birth, and the. aristocratic party for virtue. ' Terms used for persons. M 162 ARISTOTLE'S book t. i. e. The The Jijst, then, is a certain proportionable thing. plies four For proportion does not apply merely to number Sonds! in the abstract'', but to number generally, since it is equality of ratios, and implies four terms at least; (that this is the case in what may be called discrete proportion is plain and obvious, but it is true also in continual proportion, for this uses the one term as two, and mentions it twice ; thus A : B : C may be expressed A : B : : B : C. In the first, B is named twice ; and so, if, as in the second, B is actually written twice, the proportionals will be four:) and the Just hkewise implies fovir terms at the least, and the ratio between the two pair of terms is the same, because the persons and the things are divided similarly. It will stand then thus, A : B : : C : D, and then permutando A : C : : B : D, and then (supposing C and D to represent the Distribu. things) A + C:B + D::A:B. The distribution tiveJustiee . ^ ■' consists in m fact cousistiug in putting together these terms rifintlv joining the thus: and if they are put together so as to pre- twrdfand serve this same ratio, the distribution puts them andfou°rth together justly ^ So then the joining together of terms of ^he first and third and second and fourth pro- this pro- '^ portion. ■■ By iMvaBaeos apiOijAs is meant numbers themselves, 4, 20, 50, &c. by oXm; dpiB/ios these numbers exemplified, 4 horses, 20 sheep, &c. ' The profits of a mercantile transaction (say £1000) are to be divided between A and B, in the ratio of 2 to 3, (which is the real point to be settled ;) then, A : B : : 40Q : 600. A : 400 : : B : 600 (permutando, and assuming a value for A and B, so as to make them commensurable with the respective sums.) • A + 400 : B ■+ 600 : : A : B. This represents the actual dis- tribution : its fairness depending entirely on that of the first pro- portion. CHAP. vn. ETHICS. 163 portionals is the Just in the distribution, and this Just is the mean relatively to that which violates the proportionate, for the proportionate is a mean, and the Just is proportionate. Now mathematicians call this kind of proportion geometrical : for in geometrical proportion, the whole is to the whole as each part to each part. Furthermore, this proportion is not continual, because the person and thing do not make up one term. The Just then is this proportionate, and the Unjust that which violates the proportionate ; and so there comes to be the greater and the less : which in fact is the case in actual transactions, because he who acts unjustly has the greater share, and he who is treated unjustly has the less of what is good: but in the case of what is bad this is reversed : for the less evil compared with the greater comes to be reckoned for good, because the less evil is more choiceworthy than the greater, and what is choiceworthy is good, and the more so the greater good. "^This then is the one species of the Just. CHAP. VII. Of Corrective Justice. And the remaining one is the Corrective, which arises in voluntary as well as involuntary trans- actions. Now this Just has a different form from the aforementioned; for that which is concerned in distribution of common property is always ac- cording to the aforementioned proportion : I mean, m2 164 ARISTOTLE'S book v. that if the division is made out of common pro- perty, the shares will bear the same proportion to one another, as the original contributions did : and the Unjust which is opposite to this Just, is that which violates the proportionate. The ratio But the Just which arises in transactions between in Cor- rective men is an equal in a certain sense, and the Unjust Justice is i i , • i ^ i . always an uncqual, only not m the way oi that proportion, equality- ^^^ of arithmetical "". Because it makes no differ- ence, whether a robbery, for instance, is committed by a good man on a bad, or by a bad man on a good, nor whether a good or a bad man has com- The in- mitted adultery : the law looks only to the diifer- juredpartv i i i • ia supposed cuce Created by the mjiiry, and treats the men as lost, and* previously equal, where the one does and the other in| tohave suffers injury, or the one has done and the other fom" what : Suffered harm. And so this Unjust, being unequal, the judge endeavours to reduce to equality again, because really when the'one party has been wounded and the other has struck him, or the one kills and the other dies, the suffering and the doing are so that this divided into unequal shares; well, the judge tries aims aire- to restore equality by penalty, thereby taking from S; the gain. For these terms gain and loss are applied to these cases, though perhaps the term in some particular instance may not be strictly proper, as gain, for instance, to the man who has given a blow, and loss to him who has received it : still, when the suffering has been estimated, the one is called loss, and the other gain. And so the equal is a mean between the more "" i. e. where the ratio is that of equality, thus 2 : 2 : : 40 : 40. CHAP. VII. ETHICS. i65 and the less, which represent gain and loss in contrary ways : (I mean, that the more of good and the less of evil is gain, the less of good and the more of evil is loss :) between which the equal was stated to be a mean, which equal we say is Just : and so the Corrective Just must be the mean and so is a between loss and gain. And this is the reason ^Te"n loss why, upon a dispute arising, men have recourse to ^"'^ ^"°' the judge : going to the judge is in fact going to the Just, for the judge is meant to be the personi- fication of the Just". And men seek a judge as one in the mean, which is expressed in a name given by some to judges fMealSioi, or middle-men, under the notion, that if they can hit on the mean, they shall hit on the Just. The Just is then surely a mean, since the judge is also. So it is the office of a judge to make things equal, and the line, as it were, having been imequally divided, he takes firom the greater part that by which it exceeds the half, and adds this on to the less. And when the whole is divided into two exactly equal portions, then men say they have their own, when they have gotten the equal ; and the equal is a mean between the greater and the less, according to arithmetical equality. This, by the way, accounts for the etymology of Eiymoio- the term by which we in Greek express the ideas fraWon."^ of Just and Judge ; SiKaiov quasi 8i-)(aLov, that is in two parts, and ScKaa-TTjs quasi Si^aaTqs, he who divides into two parts. For when from one of two equal magnitudes somewhat has been taken and added to the other, this latter exceeds the former by twice that portion : if it had been merely taken " Her Majesty's " Justices." 166 ARISTOTLE'S book v. from the former and, not added to the latter, then the latter wouldi have exceeded the former only by that one portion ; but in the other case, the greater exceeds the mean by one, and the mean exceeds also by one that magnitude from which The Rule the portion was taken. By this illustration, then, reetive we obtain a rule to determine what one ought to take from him who has the greater, and what to add to him who has the less. The excess of the mean over the less must be added to the less, and the excess of the greater over the mean be taken from the greater. Thus let there be three straight lines equal to one another. From one of them cut oflF a portion, and add as much to another of them. The whole line thus made wiU exceed the remainder of the first-named line, by twice the portion added, and will exceed the untouched line by that portion". The terms And these terms loss and gain are derived from loss and Y gain are voluutary exchange : that is. to say, the having transferred .,•' r. . ' , • n j • • from Ex- morc than what was ones own is called gammg, " ^"^^' and the having less than one's original stock is called losing ; for instance, in buying or selling, or any other transactions which are guaranteed by law : but when the result is neither more nor less, but exactly the same as there was originally''. " I have omitted, the next three lines, as they seem to be out of place here, and to occur much more naturally afterwards ; it not being likely that they were originally twice written, one is perhaps at liberty to give Aristotle the benefit of the doubt, and conclude that he put them where they made the best sense. p This I believe to be the meaning of the passage, but do not pretend to be able to get it out of the words. CHAP. VIII. ETHICS. 167 people say they have their own, and neither lose nor gain. So then the Just we have been speaking of is a mean, between loss and gain arising in involuntary transactions ; that is, it is the having the same after the transaction as one had before it took place. CHAP. VIII. Of the way in which Reciprocation enters into Justice. There are people who have a notion that simple Ee- , , , , cipTocation Reciprocation is simply just, as the Pythagoreans said : for they defined the Just simply and without qualification as " That which reciprocates with another." But this simple Reciprocation will notwiUnot fit on either to the Distributive Just, or the Cor-pistribut- rective, (and yet this is the interpretation they'recttve "' put on the Rhadamanthian rule of Just, Justice. " If a man should suffer what he hath donej then there would be straightforward justice ;") for in many cases differences arise : as, for instance, suppose one in authority has struck a man, he is not to be struck in'turn ; or if a man has struck one in authority, he must not only be struck, but punished also^. And again, the voluntariness or 9 This is apparently contrary to what was said before, hut not really so. Aristotle does not mean that the man in authority struck wrongfully, but he takes the extreme case of simple Recipro- 168 ARISTOTLE'S book v. iiivoluntariness of actions makes a great differ- ence. But pro- But in dealings of exchange such a principle of B.ecipro- Justice as this Reciprocation forms the bond of union ; but then it must be Reciprocation ac- cording to proportion, and not exact equality, because by proportionate reciprocity of action the social community is held together. For either of evil Reciprocation of evil is meant, and if this be not allowed, it i^ thought to be a servile condition of or of good things : or else Reciprocation of good, and if this bond of*^'^ be not effected, then there is no admission to Union, participation, which is the very bond of their union. ■ And this is the moral of placing the Temple of the Graces (xa/Jtref) in the public streets ; *to im- press the notion that there may be requital, this ' being peculiar to x^P'^j because a man ought to requite with a good tm-n the man who has done him a favour, and then to become himself the originator of another xap'S" \>J doing him a favour. iiiustra- Now the acts of mutual giving in due proportion Rule" of may be represented by the diameters, of a paralle- ate'KeJr logram, at the four angles of which the parties and procation. ^.jjgjj- •^rargs are so placed, that the side connecting the parties be opposite to that connecting the wares, and each party be connected by one side cation : and in the second case, the man wljo strikes one in authority commiis two offences, one against the person, (and so far they are equal,) and another against the office. ' xipis denotes, 1st, a kindly feeling issuing in a gratuitous act of kindness; 2dly, the effect of this act of kindness on a generous mind ; 3dly, this effect issuing in a requital of the kindness. CHAP. VIII. ETHICS, 169 with his own ware, as in the accompanying diagram. Builder Shoemaker House Shoes The builder is to receive from the shoemaker of The terms his ware, and to give him of his own : if then there "e"e(iuaf- be first proportionate equaUty, and then the Re-'^^^" ciprocation takes place, there will be the just result which we are speaking of : if not, there is not the equal, nor will the connection stand : for there is no reason why the ware of the one may not be better than that of the other, and therefore before the exchange is made they must have been equalized. And this is so also in the other arts : for they would have been destroyed entirely if there were not a correspondence in point of quantity and quality between the producer and the consumer. For, we must remember, no deahngAndas arises between two of the same kind, two phy-takM|iace sicians, for instance ; but say between a physician J!^^^*" and agriculturist, or to state it generally, between ^^°^ o ' o ■ J ' whose com- those who are different and not equal, but these of "oaities T 1 1 /> aredifiter- course must have been equahzed before the ex-entintind, change can take place. It is therefore indispensable that all things some com- which can be exchanged should be capable ofsureisre- 170 ARISTOTLE'S book v. quired; compaiison, and for this purpose money has come invention in, and comcs to be a kind of medium, for it measures whTX^^' S'U things, and so likewise the excess and defect ; for instance, how many iShoes are equal to a house or a given quantity of food. As then the builder to the shoemaker, so many shoes must be to the house, (or food, if instead of a builder an agriculturist be the exchanging party ;) for unless there is this proportion, there cannot be exchange or dealing, and this proportion cannot be, unless the terms are in some way equal ; hence the need, as was stated above, of some one measure of all things. (Demand Now this is really and truly the Demand for them, really the wMch is the commou bond of all such dealings, me^re) For if the parties were not in want at all, or not similarly of one another's wares, there would either not be any exchange, or at least not the same, represents j^jj(j money has come to be, by general agree- ment, a representative of Demand: and the ac- count of its Greek name uonia-fjua is this, that it is what it is not naturally, but by custom or law, {vofios,) and it rests with us to change its value, or make it wholly useless. Veiy well then, there will be Reciprocation when the terms have been equalized, so as to stand in this piroportion ; Agriculturist : Shoemaker : : wares of Shoemaker : wares of Agrievdturist ; but you must bring them to this form of proportion when they exchange, otherwise the one extreme will combine both exceedings of the mean- : but when ' The Shoemaker would get a house while the Builder only had (say) one pair of shoes, or at all events not so many as he ought CHAP. vm. ETHICS. 171 they have exactly their own, then they are equal and have dealings, because the same equality can come to be in their case. Let A represent an agriculturist, C food, B a shoemaker, D his wares equalized with A's. Then the proportion will be correct, A : B : : D : C ; now Reciprocation will be practicable, which if it were not, there would have been no deahng. Now that what connects men in such transac- Proof that tions is Demand, as being one thing, is shown bySe"??!?." the fact, that when either one does not want the "JP section other, or neither want one another, they do"**"*"® not exchange at all : whereas they do ' when one wants what the other man has, wine for instance, giving in return corn for exportation. And further, money is a kind of security to usTheadvan- to have. Thus the man producing the least valuable ware would get the most valuable, and vice versa. Adopting, as I have done, the reading which omits ov at hii Syeiv, we have simply a repetition of the caution, that before ReciprocatiQn, is attempted, there must be the same ratio between the wares as between the persons, i. e. the ratio of equality. If we admit od, the meaning may be, that you must not bring into the proportion the difference mentioned above, {mpav ndX oin urav,) since for the purposes of commerce all men are equal. Say that the Builder is to the Shoemaker as 10 : 1. Then there must be the same ratio between the wares : consequently the highest artist will carry off the most valuable wares, thus combining in himself both vTrepSxat. The following are flie three cases, given 100 pr. shoes = 1 house. Builder : Shoemaker : : 1 pr. shoes : 1 house — wrong. 100 pr. shoes : 1 house — right. —■ : -« — ' 10 (100 pr. shoes) : 1 house — wrong, ' ovK aXXoTToirat, &(rizep. n. r. X. Compare a similar use of Sxnrep. De Interpretatione, II. 2. iv yctp t& KaSXiTm-os to iwitos ovBiv avTo Kaff eavro trrjuaivci, aOTrfp iv ra Xdyoi t^ KaXoi mtros. 172 ARISTOTLE'S book v. tages of in respect of exchange at some future time, (sup- money as a . ^ medium of posmg that One wants nothmg now,) that we shall exc ange. j^^^^ j^ when we do : the theory of money being that whenever one brings it one can receive com- modities in exchange: of course this too is hable to depreciation, for it is" not always worth the same, but still it is of a more permanent nature than the commodities it represents. And this is the reason why all things should have a price set upon them, because thus there may be exchange at any time, and if exchange, then dealing. So money, like a measure, making all things commen- surable, equahzes them : for if there was not ex- change, there would not have been dealing, nor exchange if there were not equality, nor equahty if there were not the capacity of being commen- surate: it is impossible that things so greatly different should be really commensurate, but we can approximate sufficiently for all practical pvir- poses in reference to Demand. The common measure must be some one thing, and also from agreement, (for which reason it is called vofiia-fia,) for this makes all things commensurable ; in fact, all things are measured by money. Let B represent 10 minae, A a house worth five minae, or in other wcrfds half B, C a bed worth A of B : it is clear ^tKen how many beds are equal to one house, namely, five. It is obvious also that exchange was thus con- ducted before the existence of money : for it makes no diiference whether you give for a house five beds, or the price of five beds. CHAP^ix. ETHICS. 173 CHAP. IX. On Justice and Injustice. We have now said then what the abstract Just and Unjust are, and these having been defined, it is plain that just acting is a mean between acting unjustly and being acted unjustly towards: the former being equivalent to having more, and. the latter less. But Justice, it must be observed, is a mean state Justice is , rt. . 1 j_i p i • 1 3' mean not not after the same manner as the lorementioned between virtues, but because it aims at producing the mean, edV^ces.'" while Injustice occupies both the extremes. And Justice is the moral state in virtue of which Justice the just man is said to have the aptitude for practising the Just in the way of moral choice, and for making division between himself and another, or between two other men, not so as to give to himself the greater and to his neighbour the less share of what is choiceworthy, and contrariwise of what is hurtfiil, but what is proportionably equal, and in like manner when adjudging the rights of two other men. Injustice is all this with respect to the Unjust : injustice and since the Unjust is excess or defect of what is good or hurtfiil respectively, in violation of the proportionate, therefore Injustice is both excess and defect, because it aims at producing excess and defect ; excess, that is, in a man's own case of what is simply advantageous, and defect of what is hurtful: and in the case of other men in like manner generally speaking, only that the proper- 174 ARISTOTLE'S BOOK V. tionate is violated not always in one direction as before, but whichever way it happens in the given case. And of the Unjust act the less is being acted unjustly towards, and the greater the acting unjustly towards others \ Let this way of describing the nature of Justice and Injustice, and likewise the Just and the Unjust generally, be accepted as sufficient. CHAP. X. On the Just in domestic Relations: a notice of the Sophists' notions respecting the Just. [What, [Again, since a man may do unjust acts, and Jl^n^lfi's not yet have formed a character of injustice, the constkute'" l^^^^i^'^ ariscs whether a man is unjust in each an «»«.,?] particular form of injustice, say a thief, or adulteref, or robber, by doing acts of a given character. We may say, I think, that this will not of itself make any difference ; a man may, for instance," have had connexion with another's wife, knowing well with whom he was sinning, but he may have done it not of deliberate choice, but from the impulse of passion : of course he acts unjustly, but he has not necessarily formed an unjust character : that is, he may have stolen, yet not be a thief; or committed an act of adultery, but still " Every unjust act embodies t6 abrnhv, which is a violation of ro uTov, and so implies a greater and a less share, the iformer being' said to fall to the doe«, the latter to the sufferer, of injury. CHAP.x. ETHICS. 175 not be an adulterer, and so on in other cases which might be enumerated \] Of the relation which Reciprocation bears to the The ab- Just we have already spoken : and here it should if aS, the' be noticed, that the Just which we are investigating 1°°^^ is both the Just in the abstract, and also as exhi- ''^•'o they ^ are that bited in Social Relations, which latter arises in the stare herein, case of those who live m communion with a view to independence, and who are free and equal either proportionately or numerically". It follows then, that those who are not in this and who position, have not among themselves the Social do^not.* Just, but still Just of some kind, and resembling that other. For Just implies mutually acknow- ledged law, and law the possibility of injustice, for adjudication is the act of distinguishing between the Just and the Unjust. And among whomsoever there is the possibility of injustice, among these there is that of acting unjustly; but it does not hold conversely, that injustice attaches to all among whom there is the possibility of acting unjustly, since by the former we mean giving one's self the large share of what ' This passage certainly occurs awkwardly here. If attached to the close of the preceding Chapter it would leave that Chapter incomplete, for the question is not gone into, hut only slated. As the commencement of this "Chapter it is yet more out of place ; I should propose to insert it at the commencement of the following Chapter, to which it forms an appropriate introduction. "■ In a pure democracy men are ahsolutely, i. e. numerically, equal, in other forms only proportionately equal. Thus the meanest British subject is proportionately equal to the Sovereign : that is to say, is as fully secured in his rights as the Sovereign in hers. 176 ARISTOTLE'S book v. is abstractedly good, and the less of what is ab- stractedly evil. The ratio- This, by the way, is the reason why we do not Koyai Pri- allow a man to govern, but Principle, because a stafe!^ ^° man governs for himself, and comes to be a despot : but the office of a ruler is to be guardian of the Just, and therefore of the equal. Well then, since he seems to have no peculiar personal advantage supposing him a Just man, for in this case he does not allot to himself the larger share of what is ab- stractedly good, unless it falls to his share propor- tionately, (for which reason he really governs for others, and so Justice, men say, is a good not to one's self so much as to others, as was mentioned before,) therefore some compensation must be given him, as there actually is in the shape of honour and privilege ; and wherever these are not adequate, there rulers turn to despots. The Just But the Just which arises in the relations of lations of" Master and Father, is not identical with, but M^terf"^ similar to, these : because there is no possibility of injustice towards those things which are absolutely one's own ; and a slave or child, (so long as this last is of a certain age, and not separated into an independent being,) are, as it were, part of a man's self, and no man chooses to hurt himself, for which reason there cannot be injustice towards one's own self: therefore neither is there the social Unjust or Just, which was stated to be in accordance with law, and to exist between those among whom law naturally exists, and these were said to be they to whom belongs equality of ruling, and being ruled. and in that Heuce also there is Just rather between a man of Hus- band. tiHAp. X. ETHICS. 177 and his wife, than between a man and his children or slaves; this is in fact the Just arising in do- mestic relations : and this too is different from the Social Just. Further, this last-^mentioned Just is of two kinds, TheSooiai natural and conventional ; the former being that ther Natu- which has every where the same force, and does"^*'' not depend upon being received or not ; the latter or simply being that which originally may be this way ortionai!"" that indifferently, but not after enactment : for instance, the price of ransom being fixed at a mina, or the sacrificing a goat instead of two sheep ; and again, all cases of special enactment, as the sacrificing to Brasidas as a hero ; in short, all matters of special decree. But there are some men who think that all the The so- Justs are of this latter kind, and on this ground : cognis" whatever exists by nature, they say, is unchange-{'°rterynd able, and has every where the same force; fire,"^"^"^'" for instance, burns not here only, but in Persia as well, but the Justs they see changed ■. in various places. Now this is not really so, and yet it is in a way ; Theanawet (though among the Gods perhaps by no means :) *° '*"*"■ still even amongst ourselves there is somewhat existing by nature : allowing that every thing is subject to change, still there is that which does exist by- nature, and that which does nof. • Or, according to Gardwell's reading, {kivtitov ov fUvroi wav) : " but amoiJgst ourselves there is Just> which is naturally variable, but certainly all Just is not such." The sense of the passage is not affected by the reading. In Bekker's text we must take kii/ij- tAv to mean the same as navoviusvov, i. e. " we admit there is no Just which has not been sometimes disallowed, still," &c.. With 178 ARISTOTLE'S book v Nay, we may go further, and say that it is practically plain what among things which can be otherwise does exist by nature, and what does not, but is dependent upon enactment and con- ventional, even granting that both are alike subject to be changed : and the same distinctive illustration will apply to this and other cases ; the right hand is naturally the stronger, still, some men may become equally strong in both. A parallel may be drawn between the Justs which depend upon convention and expedience, and measures ; for wine and corn measmres are not equal in all places, but where men buy, they are large, and where these same sell again, they are smaller : well, in Uke manner the Justs wluch are not natural, but of human invention are not every where the same, for not even the forms of government are, and yet there is one only which by nature would be best in all places. CHAP. XI. Of the distinctions between Unjust facts, Unjust actions, and Injustice as a confirmed habit. Now of Justs and Lawfuls, each bear to the acts which embody and exempHfy them the relation of an universal to a particular; the acts being many, but each of the principles only singular, because each is an universal. And Cardwell's, Kivrrfitv will mean " which not only does, but naturally may vary." con- stitutes CHAP. XI. ETHICS. 179 SO there is a diflPerence between an unjust act and the abstract Unjust, and the just act, and the ab- stract Just : I mean, a thing is unjust in itself, by What nature or by ordinance ; well, when this has beenunj^ft' embodied in act, there is an unjust act, but not till then, only some unjust things'. And similarly of a just act. (Perhaps biKaioirpayrjfia is more cor- or just rectly the common or generic term for just act, *"'" the word 8i,Kaim/ji.a, which I have here used, mean- ing generally and properly the act corrective of the unjust act.) Now as to each of them, what kinds there are, and how many, and what is their object- matter, we must examine afterwards. For the present we proceed to say, that the what Justs and the Unjusts being what have beenj"storJu"t mentioned, a man is said to act unjustly or justly unjusto" when he embodies these abstracts in voluntary ,'['^'*°" •' tions. actions, but when in involuntary, then he neither acts imjustly or justly except accidentally ; I mean, that the being just or unjust is really only accidental to the agents in such cases. So both unjust and just actions are limited by the being voluntary, or the contrary : for when an embodying of the Unjust is voluntary, then it is blamed, and is at the same time also an unjust action : but if voluntariness does not attach, there will be a thing which is in itself unjust, but not yet an unjust action. By voluntary, I mean, as was stated before. Repetition ^ Murder is unjust by the law of nature. Smuggling by enact- ment. Therefore any act which can be referred to either of these heads is an unjust act, or, as Bp. Butler phrases it, an act materi- atly unjust. Thus much may be decided without reference to the agent. See the note h, in page 51. 180 ARISTOTLE'S BOOK V. oftheeir- whatsocver of things in his own power a man does which con- With knowledge, and the absence of ignorance, as luntary ' to the person to whom, or the instrument with ^''*^'°°> which, or the result with which he does ; as, for instance, whom he strikes, what he strikes him with, and with what probable result ; and each of these points again, not accidentally, nor by com- . pulsion; as supposing another man were to seize his hand and strike a third person with it, here, of course, the owner of the hand acts not voluntarily, because it did not rest with him to do or leave un- done : or again, it is conceivable that the person struck may be his father, arid he may know that it is a man, or even one of the present com- pany, whom he is striking, but not know that it is his father. And let these same distinctions be supposed to be carried into the case of the result, and in fact the whole of any given action. In fine and the then, that is involuntary which is done through ignorance, or which not resulting from ignorance is not in the agent's control, or is done on com- pulsion. I mention these cases, because there are many natural things which we do and suffer knowingly, but still no one of which is either Voluntary or involuntary, growing old, or dying, for instance. Again, accidentality may attach to the unjust in like manner as to the just acts. For instance, a man may have restored, what was deposited with him, but against his will, and from fear of the consequences of a refusal : we must not say that he either does what is jiist, or does justly, except accidentally: and in like manner, the man who through compulsion and against his will fails contrary. CHAP. xt. ETHICS. 181 to restore a deposit, must be said to do unjustly, or to do what is unjust, accidentally only. Again, voluntary actions we do either from deliberate choice, or without it ; from it, when we act from previous deliberation ; without it, when without any previous dehberation. Since then hurts which may be done in transactions between man and man are threefold, those mistakes which are attended with ignorance are, when a man either does a thing not to the man to whom he meant to do it, or not the thing he meant to do, or not with the instrument, or not with the result which, he intended : either he did not think he should hit him at all, or not with this, or this is not the man he thought he should hit, or he did not think this would be the result of the blow, but a result has followed which he did not anticipate ; as, for instance, he did it not to wound, but merely to prick- him ; or it is not the man whom, or the way in which, he meant. Now when the hurt has come" about contrary to Definitions all reasonable expectation, it is a Misadventure ; venture, when though not contrary to expectation, yet™''^'"^® without any viciousness, it is a Mistake ; for a man makes a mistake when the origination of the cause rests with himself, he has a misadventure when it is external to , himself. When again he Unjust acts, with knowledge, but not from previous de-*" °° hberation, it is an xmjust action; for instance, whatever happens to men from anger or other passions which are necessary or natural : for when doing these hurts or making these mistakes, they act unjustly of course, and their actions are un- just, still they are not yet confirmed unjust or 182 ARISTOTLE'S book v. wicked persons by reason of these, because the hurt did not arise from deprandty in the doer of it : and con- but wheu it does arise from deliberate choice, then firmed In- ■, ■, . justice, the doer is a confirmed unjust and depraved man. Wrong ao- And On this principle, acts done from anger are in anger fairly judgcd uot to be from malice prepense, jiie really because it is not the man who acts in wrath who give's"h?°is the originator really, but he who caused his provooa- -vyrath. And again, the question at issue in such cases is not respecting the fact, but respecting the justice of the case, the occasion of anger being a notion of injury". I mean, that the parties do not dispute about the fact, as in questions of contract, (where one of the two must be a rogue, unless real forgetftilness can be pleaded,) but admitting the fact, they dispute on which side the justice of the case lies ; (the one who plotted against the ather, i. e. the real aggressor, of course, cannot be ignorant*,) so that the one thinks there is injustice committed, while the other does not. Well then, a man acts unjustly if he has hurt another of deliberate purpose, and he who commits such acts of injustice is ipso facto an unjust charac- ter, when they are in violation of the proportionate ox the equal ; and in like manner also a man is a just '■ " As distinct from pain or loss." Bp. Butler's Sermon on Resentment. See also, Rhet. II. 2. Def. of opyfj. "i This, piethqd of reading the passage is taken from Zell as quoted in Cardwell's Notes, and seems to y^eld the best sense. The Pafaphr^st gives it as follows : " But the aggressor is not ignorant that he began, and so he feels himself to be wrong, [and will not acknowledge that he is the aggressor,] but the other does not." CHAP. XII. ETHICS, 183 character when he acts justly of dehberate purpose, and he does act justly if he acts voluntarily. Then as for involuntary acts of harm, they are either such as are excusable or such as are not : under the former head come all errors done not merely in ignorance, but from ignorance ; under the latter all that are done not from ignorance, but in ignorance caused by some passion which is neither natural nor fairly attributable to human infirmity. CHAP. XII. Can a man be unjustly dealt with willingly ? Now a question may be raised whether we have spoken with sufficient distinctness as to being unjustly dealt with, and dealing unjustly towards others. First, whether the case is possible which Eu- Can a man ripides has put, saying somewhat strangely, dealt with willingly P " My mother he hath slain ; the tale is short. Either he willingly did slay her willing. Or else with her will hut against his own." I mean then, is it really possible for a person to be unjustly dealt with with his own consent, or must every case of being unjustly dealt with be against the will of the sufierer, as every act of unjust deahng is voluntary ? And next, are cases of being unjustly dealt with*""^"*^ o J J ^ oases to be to be ruled all one way, as every act of unjust mied^one dealing is voluntary, or may We say that some cases are voluntary and some involuntary ? '84 ARISTOTLE'S BOOK T. Similarly also as regards being justly dealt with: for all just acting is voluntary, so that it is fair to suppose that the being dealt with unjustly or justly must be similarly opposed, as to being either vo^ luntary or involuntary, I^S"" Now as for being justly dealt with, the position ^/^j'^°°|that every case of this is voluntary is a strange lyntary, one, for some are certainly justly dealt with with- out their will". The fact is, a man may also fairly raise this question, whether in every case he who has suffered what is unjust is therefore unjustly dealt with, or rather that the case is the same with suffering as it is with acting ; 'namely, that in both it is possible to participate in what is just, but only diffsrence"^ accidentally. Clearly the case of what is unjust is hetween similar : for doing things in themselves unjust is what is not identical with acting unjustly, nor is suffering fuat.lnd them the same as being unjustly dealt with, Sq justly dealt too of acting justly and being justly dealt with, ""^ sinpe it is inapossible to be unjustly dealt with unless some one else acts unjustly, or to be justly dealt with unless some one else acts justly. luhe^^ Now if acting unjustly is simply '^hurting another £K(UTht voluntarily," (by which I mean, knowing whom himself, you are hurting, and wherewith, and how you are hurting him,) and the man who fails of self-control voluntarily hurts himself, then this will be a case of being voluntarily dealt unjustly with, and it will be possible for a man to deal unjustly with himself, (This by the way is one of the questions raised, pr is will- whether it is possible for a man to deal unjustly by another, with himsclf.) Or again, a man may, by reason of failing of self-control, receive hurt from another ^ As when a man is "justified at the Grass Market," i. e. hung. CHAP. xiii. ETHICS. 18a man acting voluntarily, and so here will be another case of being unjustly dealt with voluntarily. The solution, I take it, is this : the definition of The soiu- i 1 1 . 1 • 1 tion is to being unjustly dealt with is not correct, but we be found in must add to the hurting with the knowledge of the feet Tea"' person hurt, and the instrument and the manner""'™' of hurting him, the fact of its being against the wish of the man who is hurt. So then a man may be hurt and suffer what is in Heaiiy no itself unjust volimtarily, but unjustly dealt withbeunjMtiy 1 , .1 1 • • -I dealt with voluntanly no man can be: since no man wishes „iiii„giy: to be hurt, not even he who fails of self-control, J.*adict?on' who really acts contrary to his wish : for no man '° *'"'^^' wishes for that which he does not think to be good> and the man who fails of self-control does not what he thinks he ought to do. And again, he that gives away his own property, (as Homer says Glaucus gave to Diomed, " armour of gold for brass, armour worth a hundred oxen for that which was worth but nine,") is not unjustly dealt with: because the giving rests entirely with himself, but being unjustly dealt with does not, there must be some other person who is dealing unjustly towards him. With respect to being unjustly dealt with then, it is clear that it is not voluntary. CHAP. xin. In a case of unfair distriljution is the receiver or distriliutor in fault? •There remain yet two points on which we pur-Jwoqaes- •> r X tionsatated posed to speak: first, is he chargeable with anforsoiution. unjust act, who in distribution has given the larger 186 ARISTOTLE'S book v. share to one party contrary to the proper rate, or he that has the larger share ? next, can a man deal unjustly by himself? I. He who In the first question, if the first-named alter- wronga . ^ himseifin native is possible, and it is the distributor who acts bution is unjustly, and not he who has the larger share, then "ydeai't"^' supposing that a person knowingly and willingly '^'t'jj gives more to another than to himself, here is a case of a man dealing unjustly by himself; which, in fact, moderate men are thought to do, for it is a characteristic of the equitable man to take less than his due. for first, he Is uot this the answer ; that the case is not quite really fairly stated, because of some other good, such as hirasfif credit, or the abstract honourable, in the supposed ** ^"' case, the man did get the larger share. And again, and next, the difficulty is solved by reference to the definition doiTei's of unjust dealing: for the man suffers nothing! Tw^ora. contrary to his own wish, so that, on this score at/ Bent. least, he is not unjustly dealt with, but if any thing!, he is hurt only. II. The It is evident also that it is the distributor who a?ts"un-°'^ acts uujustly, and not the man who has the greater ceiver. ^al're-""* share : because the mere fact of the abstract Unjust attaching to what a man does, does not constitute unjust action, but the doing this voluntarily : and voluntariness attaches to that quarter whence is the origination of the action, which clearly is in the distributor, not in the receiver. And again, the term doing is used in several senses ; in one sense inanimate objects kill, or the hand, or the slave by his master's bidding ; so the man in question dofes not act unjustly, but does things which are in themselves unjust. CHAP. XIV. ETHICS. 187 Again, suppose that a man has made a wrongful But not the award in ignorance ; in the eye of the law he does if he acts ' not act unjustly, nor is his awarding unjust, butrano"." yet it is in a certain sense : for the Just according to law, and primary or natural Just, are not coin- cident : but if he knowingly decided unjustly, then if he acted he himself as well as the receiver got the larger ingiy, then share, that is, either of favour from the receiver, get^the^ or private revenge against the other party : and so ^^^^" the man who decided uniustly from these motives *''°"si» J J perhaps gets a larger share, in exactly the same sense as a^of "fhe man would who received part of the actual matter award. of the unjust action : because in this case the man who wrongly adjudged, say a field, did not actually get land, but money, by his unjust decision. CHAP. XIV. Whether acting Justly and Unjustly is quite within our own power? Now men suppose that acting Unjustly rests entirely with themselves, and conclude that acting Justly is therefore also easy. But this is not really so ; to have connexion with a neighbour's wife. Unjust or strike one's neighbour, or give the money with entirei^in one's hand, is of course easy, and rests with one's but noT*'' self: but the doing these acts with certain inward Unjust dispositions neither is easy, nor rests entirely with* '™ ' one's self. And in like way, the knowing what is Just, and what Unjust, men think no great instance of wisdom, because it is not hard to comprehend those things of which the laws speak. They forget art. the Just man. 188 ARISTOTLE'S book v. that these are not Just actions, except accidentally : to be Just, they must be done and distributed in a Illustration certain manner; and this is a more difficult task than knowing what things are wholesome; for in this branch of knowledge, it is an easy matter to know honey, and wine, and hellebore, and cautery, and the use of the knife, but the knowing how one should administer these with a view to health, and to whom arid at what time, amounts in fact to being a physician. So Unjust From this very same mistake they suppose also, notentireiy that acting Unjustly is equally in the power of the p" wer of Just man, for the Just man no less, nay even more than the Unjust, may be able to do the particular acts ; he may be able to have intercourse with a woman, or strike a man ; or the brave man to throw away his shield, and turn his back, and run this way or that. True, but then it is not the mere doing these things which constitutes acts of cowardice or injustice, (except accidentally,) but the doing them with certain inward dispositions : just as it is not the mere using or not using the knife, administering or not administering certain drugs, which constitutes medical treatment or curing, but doing these things in a certain par- ticular way. The pro- Again, the abstract principles of Justice have ju^tce their province among those who partake of what lustiJe'is is abstractedly good, and can have too much or feirt^e^*^ too little of these °. Now there are beings who ° Where the stock of good is limited, if any individual takes more than his share, some one else must have less than his share : where it is infinite, or where there is no good at all, this cannot happen. CHAP. XV. ETHICS. 189 cannot have too much of them, as perhaps the cause the gods ; there are others, again, to whom no particle human* of them is of use, those who are incurably wicked, g;;jf4Jf to whom all things are hurtful; others to whom they are useful to a certain degree : for this reason then the province of Justice is among Men. CHAP. XV. Of Equity. We have next to speak of Equity and the- Equitable, that is to say, of the relations of Equity to Justice, and the Equitable to the Just : for The ques- when we look into the matter, the two do not Stated. appear identical, nor yet different in kind ; and we sometimes commend the Equitable, and the man who embodies it in his actions, so that by way of praise we commonly transfer the term also to other acts, instead of the term good, thus showing that the more Equitable a thing is, the better it is : at other times, following a certain train of reasoning, we arrive at a difficulty, in that the Equitable though distinct from the Just is yet praiseworthy ; it seems to follow, either that the Just is not good, or the Equitable not Just, since they are by hypo- thesis different ; or if both are good, then they are identical. • This is a tolerably fair statement of the difficulty which on these grounds arises in respect of the Equitable ; but, in fact, all these may be recon- No real ciled, and really involve no contradiction : for the exist". ^ 190 ARISTOTLE'S book v. Equitable is Just, being also better than one form of Just, and is not better than the Just, as though it were different from it in kind : Just and Equi' table then are identical, and both being good> the Equitable is the better of the two. TheEqui- What causes the difficulty is this ; the Equitable table IS the . , . , . . , correction IS Just, but uot the Just which IS m accordance gaiiy^just, with written law, being in fact a correction of that needs such kind of Just. And the account of this is, that beoause°°' ^^ery law is necessarily universal, while there are Laws must sojne things which it is not possible to speak of speak ffe- . " ■"■ '- nerqiiy.) rightly iu any universal or general statement. Where then there is a necessity for general state- ment, while a general statement cannot apply rightly to all cases, the law takes the generality of cases, being fully aware of the error thus involved; and rightly too notwithstanding, because the fault is not in the law, or in the framer of the law, but is inherent in the nature of the thing, because the matter of all action is necessarily such. Or to speak Whcu then the law has spoken in general terms, periy.^i is and there arises a case of exception to the general iD^oStlf fule^ if^ is proper, in so far as the lawgiver omits jus^mt*o'^the case, and by reason of his universality of state- particuiar jncut is wroug, to Set right the omission by ruling" it as the lawgiver himself would rule, were he there present, and would have provided by law, had he foreseen the case would arise. And so the Eqxiitable is Just, and better than one form of Just; I do not mean the abstract Just, but the error which .arises out of the universality of state- The Equi-ment: and this is the nature of the Equitable, fined, *' " a correction of Law, where Law is defective by reason of its universality." CHAP. XVI. ETHICS. lai This is the reason why not all things are accord- ing to law, because there are things about which it is simply impossible to lay down a law, and so we want special enactments for particular cases. For to speak generally, the rule of the undefined must and iUus- be itself imdefined also, just as the rule to measure Lesbian building is made of lead : for this rule shifts according to the form of each stone, and the special enactment according to the facts of the case in question. It is clear then what the Equitable is, namely, that it is Just, but better than one form of Just : and hence it appears too who the Equitable man The Eiiui- , . 1 ■, , 1 .1 1 table Man is: he IS one who has a tendency, to choose and described, carry out these principles, and who is not apt to press the letter of the law on the worse side, but content to waive his strict claims^ though backed by the law: and this moral state is Equity, being Equity is a a species of Justice, and not a different moral state ^tic™ °^ from Justice. CHAP. XVI. Can a man deal Unjustly by liimself? The answer to the second of the two questions can a man indicated above, " whether it is possible for a manf^^^^^y to deal unjustly by himself," is obvious from what*"™^'^"" has been already stated. In the first place, one class of Justs is those Not in that which are enforced by law in accordance with^h^^'in- Virtue in the most extensive sense of the term :J"^''''^" 192 ARISTOTLE'S book v. coexten- for instance, the law does not bid a man kill Vice.' himself; and whatever it does not bid, it forbids: well, whenever a man does hurt contrary to the law, (unless by way of requital of hurt,) voluntarily, i, e. knowing to whom he does it and wherewith. Suicide he acts Unjustly. Now he that from rage kills the ex- himself, voluntarily, does this in contravention of *' Right Reason, which the law does not permit. He therefore acts Unjustly: but towards whom? and shown towards the Community, not towards himself, dealing (because he suffers with his own consent, and no by"the ^ man can be Unjustly dealt with with his own nitj?""" consent,) and on this principle the Community punishes him ; that is, a certain infamy is attached to the suicide, as one who acts Unjustly towards the Community. Notion the Next, a man cannot deal Unjustly by himself in Particular the scuse in which a man is Unjust, who only Injustice, tt • • i i • • i i i /-/> does Unjust acts without being entirely bad; (tor the two things are different, because the Unjust man is in a way bad, as the coward is, not as though he were chargeable'with badness in the full extent of the term, and so he does not act Unjustly which im- jn this scnse,) because if it were so, then it would plies two •■, 1 f ^ ^ • 1 1 ii parties, be- be possible for the same thing to have been taken notions of away from and added to the same person*: but gahiTome this is really not possible, the Just and the Unjust '"' always implying a plurality of persons. and that Again, an Unjust action must be voluntary, done ofaggres- o ' •> ^ The reference is to Chapter vii. where it was said that the law views the parlies in a case of particular injustice as originally equal, but now utiequal, the wrong doer being the gainer, and the sufferer the loser by the wrong, but in the case above supposed there is but one party. CHAP. XVII. ETHICS. 193 of deliberate purpQse, and aggressive; (for the»ionaiao man who hurts, because he has first suffered, and is merely requiting the same, is not thought to act Unjustly,) but here the man does to himself, and suffers the same things at the same time. Again, it would imply the possibility of being The ques- Unjustly dealt with with one's own consent. virtually And besides all this, a man cannot act Unjustly, the'npga" without his act falling under some particular crime ; ^'^^ ^[y^l now a man cannot well seduce his own wife, com-?°^''y™- ferenoe to mit a burglary on his own premises, or steal his the de- signatioDof own property. particular After all, the general answer to the question is, ''"™*"' to allege what was settled respecting being Un- justly dealt with with one's own consent. CHAP. XVII. Supplementary questions. It is obvious, moreover, that being Unjustly Unjust dealt by, and dealing Unjustly by others, are both other" is wrong; because the one is having less, the other "eTngde^" having more, than the mean, and the case is parallel 2°^"°*'^ to that of the healthy in the healing art, and that of good condition in the art of training : but still the dealing Unjustly by others is the worst of the two, because this involves wickedness, and is blame- as impiy- worthy ; wickedness, I mean, either wholly, orMfs''"' " nearly so, (for- not all voluntary wrong implies injustice,) but the being Unjustly dealt by does not involve wickedness or injustice. In itself then, the being Unjustly dealt by is the though ac- 1 , •■ , .-, ,f ■ 1 ii i ^cidentally least bad, but accidentally it may be the greatest more harm 194 ARISTOTLE'S ETHICS. book v. may arise evil of the two. However, .Scientific statement II om the latter. Cannot take in such considerations ; a pleurisy, for instance, is called a greater physical evil than a bruise : and yet this last may be the greater acci- dentally ; it may chance, that a bruise received in a fall may cause one to be captured by the enemy, and slain. The Just, Further : Just, in the way of metaphor and as in the ' j r relation of simihtudc, there may be, I do not say between a slave, man and himself exactly, but between certain parts of his nature ; but not Just of every kind, only such as belongs to the relation of master and slave, or that of or to that of the head of a family. For all through Il63id 01 3i , family, may this trcatise the rational part of the Soul has been tween the viewed as distinct from the irrational. t^epOT°t^ Now taking these into consideration, there is °^||j.?g^°"" thought to be a possibility of injustice towards one's self, because herein it is possible for men to suffer somewhat in contradiction of impulses really their own ; and so it is thought, that there is Just of a certain kind between these parts mutually, as between ruler and ruled. Let this then be accepted as an account of the distinctions which we recognise respecting Justice and the rest of the moral virtues. ' So in ihe Politics, i. 2. 'H \mi yip ^x^ '""" "''"/""■oj a/>X^' hi(ntoTUa\v a.piir\v, 6 8e j/oBj iTfi ope^eas TroKinKrjV Koi SeoTrorooji'. Compare also Bishop Butler's account of human nature as a s,ystem — of the different authority of certain principles, and spe- cially the supremacy of Conscience. BOOK VI. CHAPTER I. Prefatory. Having stated in a former part of this Treatise that men should choose the mean instead of either the excess or defect, and that the mean is according to the dictates of Right Reason ; we will now proceed to explain this term. For in all the habits which we have expressly mentioned, as likewise in all the others, there is, so to speak, a mark with his eye fixed on which, the man who has Reason tightens or slacks his rope*; and there is a certain hmit of those mean states which we say are in accordance with Right Rea- son, and lie between excess on the one hand^ and defect on the other. Now to speak thus is true enough, but conveys no very definite meaning : as, in fact, in all other pursuits requiring attention and dihgence, on which skill and science are brought to bear ; it is quite true of course to say that men are neither to " I understand the illustration to be taken from the process of lowering a weight into its place ; a block of marble, or stone, for instance, in a building. o2 196 ARISTOTLE'S book vl. labour nor relax too much or too little, but in moderation, and as Right Reason directs ; yet if this were all a man had, he would not be greatly the wiser; as, for instance, if in answer to the question, what are proper applications to the body, he were to be told, " Oh ! of course, whatever the science of medicine, and in such manner as the physician, directs." And so in respect of the mental states, it is requisite not merely that this should be true which has been already stated, but further, that it should be expressly laid down what Right Reason is, and what is the definition of it. CHAP. II. Division of the Intellect into two distinct parts. The fiinction of each determined. Now in our division of the Excellences of the Soul, we said there were two classes, the Moral and the Intellectual : the former we have already gone through ; and we will now proceed to speak of the others, premising a few words respecting the Soul itself. It was stated before, you will remem- ber, that the Soul consists of two parts, the Rational, and Irrational : we must now make a similar division of the Rational. The Ra- Let it be understood then, that there are two ofThe Soul parts of the Soul possessed of Reason, one whereby is twofold, realize those existences whose causes cannot accord iDg CHAP. 11. ETHICS. 197 be otherwise than they are, and one whereby we to the aif- reahze those which can be otherwise than they matter; are*", (for there must be, answering to things gene- (because rically different, generically different parts of thematteTre- soul naturally adapted to each, since these parts of^Jientpgr. the soul possess their knowledge in virtue of a"P'™'^) certain resemblance and appropriateness in them- selves to the objects of which they are percipients";) Their and let us name the former, " that which is apt to names.'"^* know," the latter, " that which is apt to calculate ;" (because deliberating and calculating are the same, and no one ever deliberates about things which cannot be otherwise than they are : and so the Calculative will be one part of the Rational faculty of the soul.) We must discover, then, which is the best state wtat is the of each of these, because that will be the Excellence what 'is' the of each ; and this again is relative to the work each ^°^ °^ has to do". There are in the Soul three functions, on which what kind depend moral action and truth ; Sense, Intellect, the work of Appetition, whether vague Desire or definite Will.^a?feou"ty Now of these. Sense is the originating cause of no "^ '^e^°^- moral action, as is seen firom the fact that brutes have Sense, but are in no way partakers of moral action '. ^ Called for convenience sake Necessary and Contingent matter. ■= One man learns Mathematics more easily than another, in common language, he has a turn for Mathematics, i. e. something in his mental conformation answers to that science. The Phre- nologist shows the bump denoting this aptitude. ^ And therefore the question resolves itself into this, " What is the work of the Speculative, and what of the Practical, (acuity of Reason." Seethe description oi dperii, II. 5. ' irpa^is is here used in its strict and proper meaning. 198 ARISTOTLE'S book vi. [Intellect and Will are thus connected,] what in the Intellectual operation is Affirmation and Negation, that in the Will is Pursuit and Avoidance. And so since Moral Virtue is a State apt to exer- cise Moral Choice, and Moral Choice- is Will consequent on deliberation, the Reason must be true and the Will right, to constitute good Moral Choice, and what the Reason affirms, the Will must pursue ^ whatofthe Now this Intellectual operation and this Truth Speculative . , , ■» i i » • IS what bears upon Moral Action ; oi course, truth and falsehood must be the good and the bad of that Intellectual Operiation which is purely Speculative, and concerned neither with action nor production, because this is manifestly the work of every Intel- lectual faculty, while of the faculty which is of a mixed Practical and Intellectual nature, the work is that Truth which, as I have described above, corresponds to the right movement of the WiU. ' That is to say, the Will waits upon deliberation in which Reason is the judge : when the decision is pronouncedj the Will must act accordingly. The question at issue always is, h this Goods' because the Will is only moved by an impression of Good : the Decisioli then will be always Aye or No, and the mental hand is put forth to grasp in the former case, and retracted in the latter. So far is what must take place in every Moral Action, right or wrong, the Machinery of the mind being supposed uninjured : but to constitute a good Moral Choice, i. e. a good Action, the Reason must have said Aye when it ought The cases of faulty action will be, either when the Machinery is perfect but wrongly directed, as in the case of a deliberate crime ; or when the direction given by the Reason is right, but the Will does not move in accordance with that direction ; in other words, when the Machinery is out of order ; as in the case of the aKpar^i— Video meliora proboque, Deteriora sequor. CHAP. II. ETHICS. 199 Now the starting-point of moral action is Moral The reia- Choice, (I mean, what actually sets it in motion, raiVhoioe not the final caused) and of Moral Choice, Appe-J^/,^';^"; tition, and Reason directed to a certain result: and^'""^'*- - .thus Moral Choice is neither independent of intel- lect, i. e. intellectual operation, nor of a certain ' moral state : for right or wrong action cannot be, independently of operation of the Intellect, and moral character. But operation of the Intellect by itself moves Pure in- nothing, only when directed to a certain result, ^^ay related i- e. exercised in Moral Action : (I say nothing of its *° ^''"™- being exercised in production, because this function Production ..-,,„ „ , - subordinate is ongmated by the former : tor every one who makes to Action. makes with a view to somewhat further ; and that which is or may be made, is not an End in itself, but only relatively to somewhat else, and belonging to some one*": whereas that which is or may be done is an End in itself, because acting well is an End in itself, and this is the object of the WUl,) and so Moral Choice is either* Intellect put in axwodefi- 8 See the note on 'Apxq in page 7. '' The cohbler is at his last ; why ? to make shoes, which are to clothe the feet of some one: and the price to be paid, i. e. the produce of his industry, is to enable him to support his wife and children ; thus his production is subordinate to Moral Action. ' It may be fairly presumed, that Aristotle would not thus have varied his phrase without some real difference of meaning. That difference is founded, I think, on the two senses of ope^is before alluded to, (note m, page 86.) The first impulse of the mind towards Action may be given either by a vague desire, or by the suggestion of Reason. The vague desire passing through the deliberative stage would issiie in Moral Choice; Reason must enlist the Will before any Action can take place. Reason pught to be the originator in all cases, as Bp. Butler 200 ARISTOTLE'S nitions of position of WiU-ing, or Appetition subjected to a Choice. Intellectual Process. And such a Cause is Man. Jf m'^^1^* But nothing which is done and past can be th Choice object of Moral Choice; for instance, no ma things fu. chooses to have sacked Troy ; because, in fact, n contingent. ^^^ ^^er deliberates about what is past, but onl about that which is fiiture, and which may then fore be influenced, whereas what has been cannc not have been : and so Agathon is right in saying " Of this alone is Deity bereft. To make undone whatever hath been done." Truth is Thus then Truth is the work of both the Intel of^eaLh* lectual Parts of the Soul; those states therefor inteiieotuai ^re the Excellences of each in which each will bes Part of the Soul- attain ti^uth. CHAP. III. The Excellences of the Intellectual or Rational Part of the Soul enumerated. The first slightly discussed. Commencing then from the point stated abovt we will now speak of these Excellences agair Let those faculties whereby the Soul attains trut in Affirmation or Negation, be assumed to be ii observes, that Conscience should be : if this were so, every act ( Moral Choice would be dpennKbs vovs. But one obvious function of the feelings and passions in oi composite nature is to instigate Action, when Reason and Cor science by themselves do not: so that as a matter of fact, oi Moral Choice is, in general, fairly described as Spelts tiavotinie, See Bp. Butler's Sermon II, and the first upon Compassion. CHAP. II. ETHICS. 201 humber five'': viz. Art, Knowledge, Practical Wis- dom, Science, Intuition : (Supposition and Opinion I do not include, because by these one may go wrong.) What Knowledge is, is plain from the following Of Know- considerations, if one is to speak accurately, instead * ^*' of being led away by resemblances. For we -all conceive that what we strictly speaking know, cannot be otherwise than.it is, because as to those things which can be otherwise than they are, we are uncertain whether they are or are not, the moment they cease to be within the sphere of our actual observation. So then, whatever comes within the range of Knowledge is by necessity, and therefore eternal, (because all things are so which exist necessarily,) and all eternal things are without beginning, and indestructible. Again, all Knowledge is thought to be capable of being taught, and what comes within its range capable of being learned.' And all teaching is based upon previous knowledge ; (a statement you will find in the Analytics also ',) for there are two ways of teaching, by Syllogism and by Induction. In fact. Induction is the source of universal pro- positions, and Syllogism reasons from these uni- ' The miud attains ti'uth,' either for the sake of truth itself (dirXus), or for the sake of something further (eveKo. tivos). If the first, then either syllogistically (emor^/ii;), non-syllogistically [vovs), or by union of the two methods ((ro<^ta). If the second, either with a view to act ((^pdwjo-w), or with a view to make (jix^n)- Otherwise. The mind contemplates Matter Necessary or Con- tingent. If Necessary, Principles (vovs), Deductions (eTrto-nj/ii/), or Mixed (croipia). If Contingent, Action {ij)p6vri(ns), Production (r^(W)). (Giphanius quoted in Cardwell's notes.) ' It is the opening statement of the Post. Analytics, 202 ARISTOTLE'S book vi. versals"'. Syllogism then may reason from prin- ciples which cannot be themselves proved Syllo- gistically : and therefore must by Induction. ■" Aristotle in his logical analysis of Induction, Priov. Analytics II. 25. defines it to be " the proving the inherence of the middle term in the major, (i. e. proving the truth of the major premiss in fig. I.) through the minor term." He presupposes a Syllogism in the first Figure with an universal affirmative conclusion, which reasons, of course, from an universal, which universal is to be taken as proved by Induction. His doctrine turns upon a canon which he there quotes. " If of one and the same term two others be predicated, one of-which is coextensive with that one and the same, the other may be predicated of that which is thus coextensive." The fact of this coextensiveness must be ascertained by vovs, in other words, by the Inductive Faculty. We will take Aldrich's instance. All Magnets attract iron A B C are Magnets ABC attract iron. Presupposed Syllogism reasoning from an universal. ABC attract iron (Matter of observation and experiment) All Magnets are A B C (Assumed by vovsti. e. the Inductive faculty) All Magnets attract iron. (Major premiss of the last Syllogism proved by taking the minor term of that for the middle term of this.) Or, according to the x;anon quoted above : A B C are Magnets. ABC attract iron. But vovs tells me that the term Magnets is coextensive with the term ABC, therefore of all Magnets I may predicate that they attract iron. Induction is said by Aristotle to be 8i& wdvrav, but he says in the same place, that for this reason we must conceive (votlu) the term containing the particular Instances (as A B C above), as composed of all the Individuals. If Induction implied actual examination of all particular instances, it would cease to be Reasoning at all, and sink into repeated acts of Simple Apprehension: it is really the bridging over of a chasm. CHAP. III. ETHICS. 203 So Knowledge is " a state or mental faculty apt to demonstrate syllogistically/' &c, as in the Ana- lytics" : because a man, strictly and properly speaking, knows, when he establishes his conclusion in a certain way, and the principles are known to him : for if they are not better known to him than the conclusion, such knowledge as he has will be merely accidental. Let thus much be accepted as a definition of Knowledge. CHAP. IV. Of Art. Matter which may exist otherwise than it Making actually does in any given case, (commonly called ^j ^e"^' and not the steps cut in the rock on either side to enable us to walk down into, and again out of it. It is a branch of probable Reasoning, and its validity depends entirely upon the quality of the particular mind which performs it. Rapid Induction has always been a distinguishing mSrk of Genius : the certainty produced by it is Subjective and not Objective. It may be useful to exhibit it Syllogistically, but the Syllogism which exhibits it is either nugatory, or contains a premiss literally false. It will be found useful to compare on the subject of Induction as the term is used by Aristotle, Analytica Prior. II. 25. 26. Analytica Post. I. I. 3. and I. Topics VI. 1. and X. ° The reference is made to the Post. Analyt. I. II. and it is impossible to understand the account of ejrior^/xi; without a perusal of the chapter ; the additions to the definition referred to relate to the nature of the premisses from which emfrTrnitrj draws its con- clusions : they are to be " true, first principles, and incapable of any syllogistic proof, better known than the conclusion, prior to it, and causes of it." See the appendix to this Book. 204 ARISTOTLE'S book vi. respective Contingent,) is of two kinds, that which is the distinct, object of Making, and that which is the object of Doing ; now Making and Doing are two different things, (as we show in the exoteric treatise,) and so that state of mind, conjoined with Reason, which is apt to Do, is distinct from that also con- joined with Reason, which is apt to Make : and for this reason they are not included one by the other, that is. Doing is not Making, nor Making Doing". I" Now as Architecture is an Art, and is the same as " a certain state of mind, conjoined with Reason, which is apt to Make," and as there is no Art which is not such a state, nor any. Befinition such State which is not an Art, Art, in its strict °^^"' and proper sense, must be " a state of mind, con- joined with true Reason, apt to Make." The pro- Now all Art has to do with production, and ^rt? ° contrivance, and seeing how any of those things may be produced which may either be or not be, and the origination of which rests with the maker, and not with the thing made. What And so, neither things which exist or come into things ex- cluded. " This is the test of correct logical division, that the membra dividentia shall be opposed, i. e. not included the one by the other. ' The meaning of the eVei appears to be this: the appeal is made in the first instance to popular language, just as it was in the case of IjTMrrijfti), and will be in those of <\)p6vrip6prjirig is strongly brought out; eir^veaev 6 Kvputs top oIk6voiu>v t^s dSiKias an 8e V(TIkS>s- k. t. X. vii. 9. ij yap dperri Kai f) juixBripia. k, t. X. — iii. 7. ad finem. ct 8e nr \iyoi. K. T. X. 208 ARISTOTLE'S BOOK 71. has been corrupted by reason of pleasure and pain the Principle immediately becomes obscured, nor doe^ he see that it is his duty to choose and act in each instance with a view to this final cause, and by reason of it : for viciousness has a tendency to destroy the moral Principle : and so Practical Wis- dom must be " a state conjoined with reason, true, having human good for its object, and apt to do." other rea- Then again Art admits of degrees of excellence, sons dis- Y^ o ' tinguishingbut Practical- Wisdo-H9r does irot": and in Art he "who goes wrong purposely is preferable to him who does so unwittingly", but ftot so in respect of Practical Wisdom, or the other Virtues. It plainly is then an Excellence of a certain kind, and not an Art. It belongs Now as there are two parts of the Soul which cuiative have Reason, it must be the Excellence of the So" ° * Opinionative, [which we called before calculative or dehberative,] because both Opinion and Practical Wisdom are exercised upon Contingent matter. And and is not further, it is not simplyva state conjoined with Rea- joined with son, as is proved by the fact that such'a state may eaaon. ^^ forgotten and so lost, while Practical Wisdom cannot. " This is not quite fair. Used in its strict sense. Art does not admit of degrees of excellence any more than Practical Wisdom. In popular language we use the term " wiser man,*" as readily as " better artist :" really denoting in each case different degrees of approximation to Practical Wisdom and Art respectively ; 8ici ro yivetrBm, tous eircdvovs hi avacjjopas. I. 12. ' He would be a beiter Chymist who should poison intentionally, than he on whose mind the prevailing impression was, that " Epsom Salts mean Oxalic Acid; and Syrup of Senna, Laudanum." CHAP. VII. ETHICS. 209 CHAP. VI. Of Intuition, Now Knowledge is a conception concerning The faculty 1 1 XT ij 1 ji whoseoffice universals and JNecessary matter, and there are is to take in of course certain First Principles in all trains of pri„^|pies, demonstrative reasoning, (that is, of all Know-^„"^^S ledge, because this is connected with reasoning :) ^^^i^"^ that faculty, then, which takes in the first prin-sions, ciples of that which comes under the range of Knowledge, cannot be either Knowledge, or Art, or Practical Wisdom : not Knowledge, because is not what is the object of Knowledge must be derived ledg^ from demonstrative reasoning; not either of the nor Art, DOIT PrSiC" other two, because they are exercised upon Con- tioai wis- tingent matter only. Nor can it be Science which so^koe"/ takes in these, because the Scientific Man must in some cases depend on demonstrative Reasoning. It comes then to this : since the faculties and is whereby we always attain truth, and are never deceived when dealing with matter Necessary or Contingent, are Knowledge, Practical Wisdom, Science, and Intuition, and the faculty which takes in First Princij^les cannot be any of the three first ; the last, namely Intuition, must be it intuition. which performs this function. CHAP. VII. Of Science, in itself, and in relation to Practical Wisdom. Science is a term we use principally in Popular two meanings : in the first place, in the Arts we term 210 ARISTOTLE'S book vi. ascribe it to those who carry their arts to the highest accuracy y; Phidias, for instance, we call a Scientific or cunning sculptor ; Polycleitus, a Scientific or cunning statuary ; meaning, in this instance, nothing else by Science than an excel- lence of art : in the other sense, we think some to be Scientific in a general way, not in any particular line or in any particular thing, just as Homer says "' of a man in his Margites ; " Him the Gods made neither a digger of the ground, nor ploughman, nor in any other way Scientific." The re- So it is plain, that Science must mean the most sense of the accurate of all Knowledge; but if so, then the Scientific man must not merely know the de- ductions fi-om the First Principles, but be in possession of truth respecting the First Principles. equivalent So that Scieuce must be equivalent to Intuition and "know" and Knowledge; it is, so to speak. Knowledge of ledge. ^j^^ most precious objects, with a head on". y The term Wisdom is used in our English Translation of the Old Testament in the sense first given to So^i'a here. " Then ■wrought Bezaleel and Aholiab, and every wise-hearted man, in whom the Lord put wisdom and understanding to know how to work all manner of work for the service of the Sanctuary," Exodus xxxvi. 1. ' imarriiiri and NoCf, in the strict ^nse, (for it is used in many different senses in this book,) are different parts of the whole function ao^ta; eirurnjiii] takes in conclusions, drawn by strict reasoning from Principles of a certain kind, which NoCs supplies. It is conceivable, that a man might go on gaining these Principles by Intuition, and never reasoning from them, and so NoOs might exist independent of emartjiiri, but not this without that. Put the two together, the head to the trunk, and you form the living being Socjiia. There are three branches of a-ocfiia according to Greek Philosophy, eeoXoyw^, Ma^anic^, *u(roci Science is perhaps the nearest English term, but we have none really equivalent. CHAP. VII. ETHICS. 211 I say of the most precious things, because it is Higher absurd to suppose ttoXitik^ ", or Practical Wisdom>tio^^ w'is- to be the highest, unless it can be shown that^°°;,°j Man is the most excellent of all that exists in the Universe. Now if " healthy" and " good" are relative terms, differing when applied to men or to fish, but " white" and ** straight" are the same always, men must allow that the Scientific is the same always, but the Practically Wise varies : for whatever provides all things well for itself, to this they would apply the term Practically Wise, and commit these matters to it ; which As the reason, by the way, that they call some brutes Practically Wise, such that is as plainly have a faculty of fore- thought respecting their own subsistence. And it is quite plain that Science and iroXiTiKr} *>xinKh cannot be identical : because if men give the name cai with of Science to that faculty which is employed upon^"'*""*' what is expedient for themselves, there will be many instead of one, because there is not one and the same faculty employed on the good of all animals collectively, unless in the same sense as you may say, there is one art of healing with respect to all living beings. If it is urged, that Man is superior to all other animals, that makes no difference : for there are many other things more Godlike in their nature than Man, as, most obviously, the elements of which the Universe is composed ''. It is plain then, that Science is the union of Knowledge and Intuition, and has for its objects • noKiTiKTi js here used in its most extensive sense, p6mia-is ■would be its chief Instrument. * The faculty concerned with which is *utri(e^ Sm^i'a. 212- ARISTOTLF/S BOOK VI. those things which are most precious in their srientific nature. Accordingly, Anaxagoras, Thales, and locSd ^^^ of that stamp, people call Scientific, but not, E^raeticaiiy Practically Wise, because they see them ignorant of what concerns themselves ; and they say, that what they know is quite out of the common run certainly, and wonderful, and hard, and very fine no doubt, but still useless, because they do not seek after what is good for them as Men. CHAP. VIII. Additional notes upon Practical Wisdom. The range BuT Practical Wisdom is employed upon human Wisdom, matters, and such as are objects of dehberatioii ; (for we say, that to dehberate well is most pecuUarly the work of the man who possesses this Wisdom,) and no man dehberates about things which cannot be otherwise than they are, nor about any save those that have some definite End, and this End good resulting from Moral Action ; and the man to whom we should give the name of Good in Counsel, simply and without modification, is he who in the way of calculation has a capacity foi? attaining that of practical goods, which is the best for Man. It ia not * Nor again does Practical Wisdom consist in a p?hfo?pfes° knowledge of general principles only, but it is tains know- neccssary that one should know also the particular ledge of details, because it is apt to act, and action is con- cerned with details: for which reason sometimes CHAP. VIII. ETHICS. 213 men who have not much knowledge are more practical than others who have ; among others, they who derive all they know from actual ex- perience : suppose a man to know, for instance, that light meats are easy of digestion, and whole- some, but not what kinds of meat are light, he will not produce a healthy state ; that man will have a much better chance of doing so, who knows that the flesh of birds is light and wholesome. Since then Practical Wisdom is apt to act, onewWoh, of ought to have both kinds of knowledge, or if only the more one, the knowledge of details rather than of Prin-ilf '"°''^" ciples. So there will be in respect of Practica,! Wisdom the distinction of supreme and subor- dinate *'. Further : ttoXltikt] and Practical Wisdom are the The re.- same mental state, but the point of view is not the practical ■ Wisdom to Of Practical Wisdom exerted upon a community, that which I would call the Supreme, is the faculty of Legislation ; the subordinate, which is concerned vnth the details, generally has the common name TToXiTiKT], and its functions are Action and DeHbe^ • In every branch of Moral Action in which Practical Wisdom is employed there will he general principles, and the application of themj but in some branches there are distinct names appropriated to the operations of Practical Wisdom, in others there are not. Thus Practical Wisdorn, when employed on the general prin- ciples of Civil Government, is called Legislation; as administering its particular functions, it is called simply Government. In Domestic Management, there are of course general Rules, and also the particular application of them; but here the faculty is called only by one name. So too when Self-Interest is the object of Practical Wisdom. 214 ARISTOTLE'S BOOK VI. ration, (for the particular enactment is a matter of action, being the ultimate issue of this branch of Practical Wisdom, and therefore people commonly say, that these men alone are really engaged in government, because they alone act, filling the same place relatively to legislators, that workmen do to a master ''.) i^acticai Again, that is thought to be Practical Wisdom restricted in the most proper sense, which has for its object to that the interest of the Individual: and this usually which has • ^ ii j i , i for its ob- appropriates the common name: the others are Interest of Called respectively Domestic Management, Legis- \rWua°^^ lation. Executive Government divided into two branches. Deliberative and Judicial". Now of course, knowledge for one's self is one kind of The Selfish knowledge, but it admits of many shades of differ- sitated, ence*: and it is a common notion, that the man who knows and busies himself about his own con- cerns merely, is the man of Practical Wisdom, while they who extend their solicitude to society at large, are considered meddlesome. Euripides has thus embodied this sentiment; " How," says one of his Characters, " How Foolish am I, who whereas I might have shared equally, idly numbered among the multitude of the army ^ ^cipotfxvat, " our mere Operatives iu Public business." (Chahneis.) ♦ Practical wisdom may be employed either respecting Self, (which is (^/jowjcru proper) or not -Self, i. e. either one's family = oikoto/uk^, or one's community = TroXitiidj, but here the supreme and subordinate are distinguished; the former is voiwdenitfi, the latter m>.iTucfi proper, whose functions pre deliberation, and the administration of justice, Wisdom. CHAP. VIII. ETHICS. 215 * * * for them that are busy and meddlesome [Jove hates]," because the generality of mankind seek their own good, and hold that this is their proper business. It is then from this opinion that the notion has arisen, that such men are the Practically- Wise. And yet it is just possible, that and con- the ' good of the individual cannot be secured, independently of connection with a family or a community. And again, how a man should manage Experience his own affairs is sometimes not qmte plain, and of Practical must be made a matter of enquiry'. • A corroboration of what I have said is^ th6 fact, that the young come to be geometricians, and mathematicians, and Scientific in such matters, but, it is not thought that a young man can come to be possessed of Practical Wisdom : for the reason is, that this Wisdom has for its object particular fects, which come to be known from experience, which a young man has not, because it is produced only by length of time. By the way, a person might also enquire'', why ' But where can this be done, if there be no community ? see Horace's account of the way in which his father made him reap instruction from the examples in the Society around him. I. Sat. IV. 105. etc. See also Bp. Butler, Analogy, part I. chap. v. sect. HI. The whole . question of the Selfish Morality is treated in Bp. Butler's lirst three and the eleventh Sermons, in which he shows the coincidence in fouit of enlightened Self-Love and Benevolence, i. e. love of others. Compare also what is said in the first Book of this treatise. Chap. v. about airapKcla. 8 More truly " implied," namely, that Practical Wisdom results, from experience. ^ This observation seems to be introduced, simply because suggested by the last, and not because at all relevant to, the matter in hand. 216 ARISTOTLE'S book vi. a boy may be made a mathematician, but not Scientific or a natural philosopher. Is not this the reason ? that mathematics are taken in by the pro- cess of abstraction, but the principles of Science' and natural philosophy must be gained by expe- riment ; and the latter young men talk of, but do pot reaUze, while the nature of the former is plain and clear. Both ftine- Again, in matter of practice, error attaches either Praotieai to the general rule, in the process of dehberation, needed" ^"^^Qf to the particular fact: for instance, this would be a general rule, " AH water of a certain gravity is baji;" the particular fact, " this water is of that gravity." Practical And that Practical Wisdom is not Knowledge is distinguish- plain, foi" it h^s to do with the ultimate issued as Know™ i^^s been said, because every object of action is of ledge j-jjjg xiature. and Into- To Intmtion it is opposed, for this takes in those ition. principles which cannot be proved by reasoning, while Practical Wisdom is concerned with the ultimate particular fact, which cannot be reahzed by Knowledge, but by Sense ; I do not mean one of the five senses, but the same by which we take in the mathematical fact, that no rectilineal figure can be contained by less than three lines, i. e. that a triangle is the ultimate figure, because here also is a stopping point. ' An instance of Principles gained alo-Bfia-ei,. (Book !• Chap. 8.) '' Particulars are called ea-xara, because they are last arrived at in the deliberative process; but a little further on we have the term applied to first pri^cipl^s, because they stand at one extremity, and facts at the other, of the line of action. CHAP. IX. ETHICS. 217 This however is- Sense rather than Practical Wisdom, which is of another kind'. CHAP. IX. Of Good Counsel. Now the acts of enquiring and deliberating diflFer, GoodCoui though deHberating is a kind of enquiring. We°* '* ought to ascertain about Good Counsel likewise what it is, whether a kind of Knowledge, or Opinion, or Happy Conjecture, or some other kind of faculty. Knowledge it obviously is not, because noe Know men do not enquire about what they know, and * ^*' Good Counsel is a kind of dehberation, and the man who is deliberating is enquiring and cal- culating. Neither is it Happy Conjecture ; because this is nor Happ 1 tin . -I * 1 1 . Coniectai independent oi reasonmg, and a rapid operation; ■ but men dehberate a long time, and it is a common saying, that one should execute speedily what has been resolved upon in dehberation, but dehberate slowly. Quick perception of causes"' again is a different nor quick Perceptio of Causes ' I prefer the reading ^ ^povrfo-is, which gives this sense; " Well, as I have said. Practical Wisdom is this kind of sense, and the other we mentioned is different in kind." In a passage so utterly unimportant, and thrown iu almost colloquially, it is not worth while to take much trouble about such a point. " The definition of it in the Organon, (Post, Analyt. I. xxiv.) " a happy conjecture of the middle term without time to consider of it." The qusestio states the pheenoniena, and the middle term the causation, the rapid ascertaining of which constitutes ar/xwoia. 218 ARISTOTLE'S book-vi. faculty, from good counsel, for it is a species of nor Opi. Happy Conjecture. Nor is Good Counsel Opinion of any kind. Well then, since he who deliberates iU, goes wrong, and he who deliberates well, does so rightly, but Right- it is clear that Good Counsel is Rightness of some kind, but not of Knowledge nor of Opinion : for Knowledge cannot be called right because it cannot be wrong, and Rightness of Opinion is Truth : and again, all which is the object of Opinion is definitely marked out"„ not of In- Still, however. Good Counsel is not independent ^GllGCf 113.1 operation of Reasou., Does it remain then that it is a right- ^""^ ^' ness of Intellectual Operation simply, because this does not amount to an assertion ; and the objection to Opinion was, that it is not a process of enquiry, but already a definite assertion, whereas whosoever deliberates, whether well or ill, is engaged in enquiry and calculation, but of de- Well, Good Counsel is a Rightness of deliberation, and so the first questioh must regard the nature and objects of deliberation. Now remember Right- ness is an equivocal term ; we plainly do not mean Rightness of any kind whatever : the aKpar^s, for instance, or the bad man, will obtain by his calculation what he sets before him as an object. All that receives light from the sun is bright on the side, next to the sun. The moon receives light from the sun, . • . The moon is bright on the side next the sun. The oyxivoia consists in rapidly and correctly accounting for the observed fact, that the moon is bright on the side next to the sun.. " Opinion is a complete, deliberation an incomplete, mental act. CHAP. IX. ETHICS. 219 and SO he may be said to have delibetated rightly: in one sense, but will have attained a great evil. Whereas to have deliberated well is thought to be a good, because Good Counsel is, Rightness of The end dehberation of such a nature as is apt to attain good, * good. But even this again you may get by false reason- The Means ing, and hit upon the right effect, though not^"''*''" through right means % your middle term being fallacious: and so neither will this be yet Good Counsel, in consequence of which you get what you ought, but not through proper means. Again, one man may hit on a thing after long The time dehberation, another quickly. And so that before moderate. described, will not be yet Good Counsel, but the Rightness must be with reference to what is ex- pedient ; and you must have a proper End in view, pursue it in a right manner and right time. Once more." One may deliberate well, either generally, or towards some particular End^*. Good The End counsel in the general then, is that which goes preme and" right towards that which is the End in a general guboTdT""^ way of consideration ; in particular, that which does"**®" so towards some particular End. Since then deliberating well is a quality of men possessed of Practical Wisdom, Good Counsel must Definition be " Rightness in respect of what conduces to a counsel. ° The End does not sanctify the Means. f The meaning is, there is one End including all others ; and in this sense (jjpovrio-is is concerned with Means, not Ends : but there are also many subordinate Ends which are in fact Means to the Great End of all. Good counsel has reference not merelyto the grand End, but to the subordinate Ends which (^pdwjwt selects as beinsr risht means to the Grand End of all. 220 ARISTOTLE'S book vi. given End, of which i" Practical Wisdom is the true conception." CHAP. X. Of Judiciousness and rjrtt^i). There is too the faculty of Judiciousness, and also its absence, in virtue of which we call men Judicious or the contrary. Province Now Judlciousuess is neither entirely identical ouBness. with Knowledge or Opinion, (for then all would have been Judicious,) nor is it any one specific science, as medical science, whose object matter is things wholesome ; or geometry, whose object mat- ter is magnitude : for it has not for its object things which always exist and are immutable, nor of those things which come into being, just any which may chance ; but those in respect of which a man might doubt and deliberate. ijowsigree- And SO it has the same object matter as Practical anyhow' Wisdom ; yet the two faculties are not identical, from.'prao- because Practical Wisdom has the capacity for dom ^"' commanding and taking the initiative, for its End is " what one should do or not do :" but Judiciousness is only apt to decide upon suggestions, (though we do in Greek put " well" on to the faculty and its concrete noun, these really mean exactly the same Judicious- as the plain words,) and Judiciousness is neither >■ The relative oS might he referred to j-6 trvfupepov, but that evfiqvKIa has been already divided into two kinds, and this con- struction would restrict the name to one of them, namely, that irp6s n Te\os, as opposed to that irpos t6 reXos &ir\as. CHAP. X. ETHICS. 221 the havinff Practical Wisdom, nor attaining it : but nes8de- just as learning is termed avvievai when a man uses his knowledge^ so Judiciousness consists in employing the Opinionative faculty in judging con- cerning those things which come withiil the pro- vince of Practical Wisdom, when another enuntiates them ; and not judging merely, but judging well ; (for ev and KaXm mean exactly the same thing.) And the Greek name of this faculty is derived from the use of the term a-vvievai in learning : frnvOaveip and avvtevat being often used as synonymous. The faculty called ■yvcofiTj'^, in right of which wer»«/.iide. call men cvyvoafioves, or say they have yvdofir/, is " the right judgment of the equitable man." A proof of which is, that we most commonly say that the equitable man has a tendency to make allow- ance, and the making allowance in certain cases is equitable. And a-vyyvwfnj (the word denoting allowance) is right yveofirj, having a capacity of making equitable decisions. By " right" I mean that of the Truthful man. ^ We have no term which at all approximates to the meaning of this wordj much less will our language admit of the play upon it which connects it with avyyv&iai. 222 ARISTOTLE'S CHAP. XI. , Of the coincidence of the faculties of Practical Wisdom, Practical Intuition, Judiciousness, and Ttifoi- ThePrae- Now all these mental states' tend to the same cuities are object, as indeed common language leads us to coincident, -j.t ^ j} f tt« as found in expect : i mean, we speak oi yvmfirj, Judiciousness, ^e^same pj-actical Wisdom, and Pralctical Intuition, at- tributing the possession of yvmfirj and Practical Intuition to the same Individuals whom we de- nominate Practically-Wise and Judicious : because as em- all these faculties are employed upon the extremes ', in°Parti- ^i. e. ou particular details; and in right of his **"'*"' aptitude for deciding on the matters which come within the province of the Practically- Wise, a man is Judicious and possessed of good yvwfir} ; i. e. he is disposed to make allowance, for considerations ' Meaning, of course, all those which relate to Moral Action. (fipovTjiTis is equivalent to eijSouXm, (rvveiris, yv&iirj, and vmis, (in the new sense here given to it). The faculty which guides us truly in all matters of Moral Action is (jjpSvricns, i. e. Reason directed hy Goodness, or Goodness informed by Reason. But just as every faculty of body and soul is not actually in operation at the same time, though the Man is acting, so proper names are given to the various Functions of Practical Wisdom. Is the (fipomfios forming plans to attain some particular End ? he is then et!/3ot)Xor — is he passing under review the suggestions of others ? he is avverhs — is he judging of the acts of others ? he admits yv&iiri to temper the strictness of justice — is he applying general Rules to particular cases ? he is exercising vovs TrpaKrut^s or ata-Brjtns — while in each and all he is p6vinos. ' See note k, on p. 216. CHAP. XI. ETHICS. 223 of equity are entertained by all good men alike in transactions with their fellows. And all matters of Moral Action belong to the which are class of particulars, otherwise called extremes : for matter of' the man of Practical Wisdom must know them^J^"''*^^''' and Judiciousness and yvcofir] are concerned with matters of Moral Action, which are extremes. Intuition, moreover, takes in the extremes at both ends' : I mean, the first and last terms must be taken in not by reasoning, but by Intuition, [so that Intuition comes to be of two kinds,] and that intuition ot which belongs to strict demonstrative reasonings "° takes in immutable, i. e. Necessary first terms; while that which is employed in practical matters takes in the extreme, the Contingent, and the minor Premiss ": for the minor Premisses are the source of the Final Cause, Universals being made up out of Particulars \ To take in these, of course we must have Sense, i. e. in other words. Practical Intuition. ' There are cases where we must simply accept or reject without proof: either when Principles are propounded which are prior to all reasoning, or when particular facts are brought before us which are simply matters of a'a-Or/iTis. Aristotle here brings both these cases within the province of vdvs, i. e. he calls by this name the Faculty which attains Truth in each. ° i. e. of the a-uXKoyia-noi tZv TrpaKT&v, ' See the note on 'Apxf/ in page 7. As a matter of fact and mental experience the Major Premiss of the Practical Syllogism is wrought into the mind by repeatedly acting, upon the Minor Premiss, (i. e. by eBuriws.) All that is pleasant is to be done. This is pleasant, . • . This is to be done. By habitually acting on the Minor Premiss, i. e. on the suggestions of Imdvuia, a man comes really to hold tho Major 224 ARISTOTLE'S book vi. And for this reason these are thought to be simply gifts of nature; and whereas no man is thought to be Scientific by nature, men are thought to have yvcofir}, and Judiciousness, and Practical Intuition : a proof of which is, that we think these faculties are a consequenc.e even of particular ages, and this given age has Practical Intuition and yvcofu}' we say, as if under the notion that nature is the ' cause. And thus In- tuition is both the beginning and end, because the proofs are based upon the one kind of extremes, and concern the other. The ground And so" One should attend to the undemonstrable of^'Autho- rity" in dlcta and opinions of the skilful, the old and the ters" * Practically Wise, no less than to those which are based on strict reasoning, because they see aright, having gained their power of moral vision from experience. Premiss. Aristotle says of the man destitute of all self-control, that he is firmly persuaded that it is his proper line to pursue the gratification of his bodily appetites, 8101 tA toiovtos etvai ohs Simkeiv ttiirdg. And his analysis of dxpaa-la (the state of progress towards this utter abandonment to passion) shows that each case of previous good resolution succumbing to temptation is attributable to eiriBviiia suggesting its own Minor Premiss in place of the right one. Book VII. 8 and 5. " The consequentia is this : There are cases both of principles and facts which cannot admit of reasoning, and must be authoritatively determined by vovs. What makes vovs to be a true guide? only practice, i. e. Ex- perience, and therefore, &c. CHAP. XII. ETHICS. 225 CHAP. XIL Objections to the usefiilness of these latellectual Excellences. The Answers. A foUer description and analysis of Practical Wisdom. Well, we have now stated the nature and objects of Practical Wisdom and Science re- spectively, and that they belong each to a different part of the Soul. But I can conceive a person questioning their utility. " Science," he would Objections say, " concerns itself with none of the causes of utility of human happiness, (for it has nothing to do with '"™''®' producing any thing :) Practical Wisdom has thisof Praotu recommendation, I grant, but where is the need ofdom. it, since its province is those things which are just ^'"''' and honourable, and good for man, and these are the things which the good man as such does ; but we are not a bit the more apt to do them, because we know them, since the Moral Virtues are Habits, just as we are not more apt to be healthy or in good condition from mere knowledge of what relates to these, (I mean", of coiu"se, things so called not from their producing health, &c. but from their evidencing it in a particular subject,) for we are not more apt to be healthy and in good condition merely from knowing the art of medicine or training. " This is a note to explain vyieiva and eveiiniA; he gives these three uses of the term lyUivov in the Topics, I. xiii. 10. vyUaiov Xeyerai Td fiiv vyUias TroofriKitv, vyifivov Xiyerai - to 8e (jivKoKTiKov, TO fie (rrjiiavTiKdv. ^e ^ *i__ ;n ^.. x- » \.. 226 ARISTOTLE'S booi Secondly, If it be Urged, that knowing what is good c not by itself make a Practically Wise man, becoming good ; still this Wisdom will be no either to . those that are good, and so hav( already, or to those who have it not ; bec£ it will make no difference to them, whether t have it themselves, or put themselves under guidance of others who have ; and we might contented to be in respect of this as in respec health : for though we wish to be healthy, still do not set about learning the art of healing. Thirdly, Furthermore, it. would seem to be strange, i °o''riie're- though lowcr in the scale than Science, it is tc ittions'rf its master ; which it is, because whatever prodi wfsd'om' ^6sults takes the rule, and directs in each matt and Sci- xhis then is what we are to talk about, for tl enoe. . are the only points now raised. firsrrant- Now first We Say, that being respectively ing what is cellences of different ijarts of the Soul, they n alleged, , i . ^ . . theobjeo- be choice-worthy, even on the supposition cot'hoid : they neither of them produce results. next, we In the next place we say, that they do proc deny the , , ^ • i tt • facts ai- results ; that Science makes Happiness, not as ' medical art, but as healthiness, makes heal because being a part of Virtue in its most exten sense, it makes a man happy by being posses and by working. Tb^reai Next, Man's work as Man is accomplished Practical virtue of Practical Wisdoto and Moral Virtue, > Healthiness is the formal 1 eause of health. Medicine is the efficient J See Book X. chap. 4. &intep oiS fj vyleia Kalolarpos d/ioiios itjTi Tov vyiaiveiv. CHAP. xii. ETHICS. 227 latter giving" the right aim and direction, the wisdom in former the right means to its attainment" ; but ofManC ° the fourth part of the Soul, the mere nutritive ^°*" principle, there is no such Excellence, because nothing is in its power to do or leave undone '. As to our not being more apt to do what is Answer to ,. „ ■ , T, ..the second noble and just by reason oi possessmg rractical objection Wisdom, we must begin a little higher up*, taking utility of * this for our starting-poiilt. Just as we say, that^^^^^*' men may do things in themselves just, and yet not be just men; as, for instance, when men do, what the laws require of them, either against their will, or by reason of ignorance or something else, at all events not for the sake of the things themselves ; and yet they do what they ought, and all that the good man should do ; so it seems, that to be a good man one must do each act in a particular frame of mind, I mean from Moral Choice and for the sake of the things themselves which are done. Now it is Virtue which makes the Moral Choice right, but whatever is naturally required to carry out that Choice comes not under the province of Virtue, but a different faculty. We must halt, as it were, awhile, and speak more clearly on these points. There is then a certain faculty, commonly named Of ciever- Clevemess, of such a nature as to be able to do raw'mate- and attain whatever conduces to any given pur- practical Wisdom, ' (I>p6vri°f'^"- tue, " The term a'a^povuaii must be understood as governing the signification of the other two terms, there being no single Greek term to denote in either case mere dispositions towards these Virtues. ' Compate the passage at the commencement of Book X. vv« 8« cbaivovrai * * KaToKcaviaov CK Tvs doenis. 230 ARISTOTLE'S BOOK VI. these the latter canpot be formed without Practical Wisdom". This leads some to say, that all the Virtues are Socrates' merely intellectual Practical Wisdom, and Socrates notion. ' '' was partly right in his enquiry, and partly wrong : wrong, in that he thought all the Virtues were merely intellectual Practical Wisdom, right in saying they were not independent of that faculty. CommoD A proof of which is, that now all, in defining Bupports Virtue, add on the " state accordant with Right Reason," by way of saying to what it is related : now " right" means in accordance with Practical Wisdom. So then all seem to have an instinctive notion, that that state which is in accordance with Practical Wisdom is Virtue ; however we must make a shght change in their statement, because that state is Virtue not merely which is in accord- ance with, but which implies the possession of. Right Reason ; which, upon such matters, is Prac- tical Wisdom. The difference between us and Socyates is this : he thought the Virtues were reasoning processes, (i. e, that they were all instances of Knowledge in its strict sense,) but we say they imply the possession of Reason. "Moral Vir- From what has been said then it is clear, that Practical Quc cannot be, strictly speaking, good without tasepa" Practical Wisdom, nor Practically-Wise without rabie. moral goodness. TheNa- And by the distinction between Natural and tuesare"^' Matured Virtue, one can meet the reasoning by ' It must be remembered, that p6vrj(ns is used throughout this chapter in two senses, its proper and complete sense of Practical Wisdom, and its incomplete one, of merely the Intellectual Element of it. CHAP. XII. ETHICS. 231 which it might be argued " that the Virtues are separable, separable, because the same man is not by nature Matured most inclined to all at once, so that he will have ^'^ °°*" acquired this one before he has that other:" we would reply, this is possible with respect to the Natural Virtues, but not with respect to those in right of which a man is denominated simply good : because they will all belong to him, together with the one faculty of Practical Wisdom. It is plain too, that even had it not been apt to Answer to ii'i •■i-n objectionl. act, we should have needed it, because it is the Ex- recapitu- lated ' cellence of a part of the Soul ; and that the moral and to ob- choice cannot be right, independently of Practical-''^"''™ ' Wisdom or Moral Goodness : because this gives the right End, that causes the doing these things which conduce to the End. Then again, it is not Master of Science, (i. e. of To objec the superior part of the Soul,) just as neither is the first An- heahng art of health ; for it does not make use of ''^^'^" it, but looks how it may come to be : so it com- mands for the sake of it, but does not command it. The objection is, in fact, about as valid as if a Second man should say ttoXltlkt] governs the Gods, because it gives orders about aU things in the community. APPENDIX On ima-Trijirj, from T. Post. Analyt. chap. 1. and 2. (Such parts only are translated as throw light on the Ethics.) All teaching, and all intellectual learning, proceeds on the hasis of previous knowledge, as will appear on an examination of all. The Mathematical Sciences, and every other system, draw their conclusions in this method. So too of reasonings, whether by syllogism, or induction : for both teach through what is previously known, the former assuming the premisses as from wise men, the latter proving universals from the evidentness of the particulars. In like manner too rhetoricians persuade, either through examples, (which amounts to induction,) or through' enthymemes, (which amounts to syllogism.) CHAP. 11. Well, we suppose that we know things (in the strict and proper sense of the word), when we suppose ourselves to know the cause hy reason of which the thing is to be the cause of it ; and that this cannot he other- wise. It is plain, that the idea intended to be conveyed by the term fcJiowing is something of this kind; because they who do not really know, suppose themselves thus related to the matter in hand, and they who do know, really are : so that of whatsoever there is properly speaking Know- ledge, this cannot be otherwise than it is. Whether or no there is another way of knowing, we will say afterwards, but we do say, that we know through demonstration; by which, I mean a syllogism apt to produce Knowledge, i. e. in right of which, through having it, we know. If Knowledge then is such as we have described it, the Knowledge prod\ic^d by demonstrative reasoning must be drawn from premisses irue, and first, and incapable of syllogistic proof, and better known, and prior in order of time, and causes of the conclusion^ for so the principles \rill be akin to the conclusion demonstrated. (Syllogism, of course, there may be without such premisses, but it will not be demonstration, because it will not produce knowledge.) True, they must be ; because it is impossible to know that which is not. APPENDIX. 233. First, that is indemonstrable; because if demonstrable, he cannot be said to kiiow them who has no demonstration of them: for knowing such things as are demonstrable, is the same as having demonstration of them. Causes they must be, and better known, and prior in time ; causes, because we then know when we are acquainted with the cause; and prior, if causes; and known beforehand, not merely comprehended in idea, but known to exist. (The terms prior, and better known, bear two senses : for prior by nature and prior relatively to ourselves, are not the same, nor better known by nature, and better known to us. I mean, by prior, and better known relatively to ourselves, such things as are nearer to sensation, but abstractedly so, such as are further. Those are furthest which are most universal, those nearest which are particulars ; and these are mutually opposed.) And by first, I mean principles akin to the conclusion, for principle means the same as first. And the prin6iple or first step in demonstration is a proposition incapable of syllogistic proof, that is, one to which there is none prior. Now of such syllogistic principles I call that a e'uis, which you cannot demonstrate, and which is unnecessary with a view to learning something else. That which is necessary in order to learn something else is an Axiom. Further, since one is to believe and know the thing, by having a syllogism of the kind called demonstration, and what constitutes it to be such is the nature of the premisses, it is necessary not merely to kno^o beforfi, but to knaw better than the conclusion, either all or at least some of the principles; because that which is the cause of a quality inhering in something else, always inheres itself more : as the cause of our loving is itself more lovable. 80, since the principles are the cause of our knowing and believing, we know and believe them more, because by reason of them we know also the conclusion following. Further : the man who is to have the Knowledge which comes through demonstration, must not merely know and believe his principles better than he does his conclusion, but he must believe nothing more firmly than the contradictories of those principles, out of which the contrary fallacy may be constructed : since he who knows, is to be simply and absolutely infallible. BOOK VII. CHAPTER I. Prefatory. Next, we must take a different point to start from% and observe, that of what is to be avoided in respect of moral character, there are three forms ; Three Vice, Imperfect Self-Control, and Brutishness. states and Of the two former, it is plain what the contraries sites'! °''^° are, for we call the one Virtue, the other Self-Con- trol; and as answering to Brutishness, it will be most suitable to assign Superhuman, i. e. heroical and godlike Virtue, as, in Homer, Priam says of Hector, that he was very excellent, nor was he like the offspring of mortal man, but of a god : and so, if, as is commonly said, men are raised to the position of gods by reason of very high excellence in Virtue, the state opposed to the Brutish, will plainly be of this nature : because as brutes are not virtuous or vicious, so neither are gods, but the state of these is some thing more precious than Virtue, of the former some thing different in kind from Vice. ■ The account of Virtue and Vice hitherto given, represents rather what men may be than what they are. In this book we take a practical view of Virtue and Vice, in their ordinary, every day, development. CHAP. I. ETHICS. 235 And as, on the one hand, it is a rare thing for a But the man to be godhke, (a term the Lacedaemonians are l^Jrmt' accustomed to use when they admire a man ex- ceedingly ; a-elos a.vr}p they call him,) so the Brutish man is rare among men; the character is found most among barbarians, and some cases of it are caused by disease or maiming; also such men as exceed in vice all ordinary measures, we therefore designate by this opprobrious term. Well, we must in a subsequent place make some mention of this disposition, and Vice has been spoken of before : for the present we must speak of Imperfect Self- Control, and its kindred faults of Softness and Luxury, on the one hand, and of Self-Control and Endurance on the other, since we are to conceive of them, not as being the same states exactly as Virtue and Vice respectively, nor again as differing in kind. And we should adopt the same course asTheime . , in, . . to be taken betore, i. e. state the phaenomena, and, after raismgin the and discussing difficulties which suggest themselves, then exhibit, if possible, all the opinions afloat respecting these affections of the moral character ; or, if not all, the greater part and the most import- ant : for we may consider we have illustrated the matter sufficiently, when the difficulties have been solved, and such theories as are most approved are left as a residuum. The chief points may be thus enumerated. It Pointa ^ "^ stated. is thought, I. That Self-Control and Endurance belong to the class of things good and praiseworthy, while Imperfect Self-Control and Softness belong to that r>f fliiTirpc Imjc ar\t\ Vilnmp'wnrt.llV. 236 ARISTOTLE'S BOOK VII. II. That the man of Self-Control is identical with the man who is apt to abide by his resolution, and the man of Imperfect Self-Control with him who is apt to depart from his resolution. III. That the man of Imperfect Self-Control does things at the instigation of his passions, knowing them to be wrong, while the man of Self- Control, knowing his lusts to be wrong, refuses, by the influence of reason, to follow their suggestions. IV. That the man of Perfected Self-Mastery unites the quahties of Self-Control and Endurance, and some say that every one who unites these is a man of Perfect Self-Mastery, others do not. V. Some confound the two characters of the man who has no Self-Control, and the man of Imperfect Self-Control, while others distinguish between them. VI. It is sometimes said, that the man of Prac- tical Wisdom cannot be a man of Imperfect Self- Control,, sometimes that men who are Practically Wise and Clever, are of Imperfect Self-Control. VI I. Again, men are said to be of Imperfect Self-Control, not simply, but with the addition of the thing wherein, as in respect of anger, of honour, and gain. These then are pretty well the common state- ments. CHAP. II. ETHICS. 237 CHAP. 11. Questions raised, and slightly discussed. Now a man may raise a question, as to the nature Question of the right conception in violation of which aiiL°"' man fails of Self-Control. That he can so fail when knowing in the strict Socrates' sense what is right, some say is impossible: for it stated. is a strange thing, as Socrates thought, that while Knowledge is present in his mind, something else should master him, and drag him about like a slave. Socrates in fact contended generally against the theory, maintaining there is no such state as that of Imperfect Self-Control, for that no one acts contrary to what is best, conceiving it to be best, but by reason of ignorance what is best. With all due respect to Socrates, his account of Put aside the matter is at variance vdth plain facts, and we dLtkg"^*' must enquire with respect to the affection, if it be '^^' caused by ignorance, what is the nature of the ignorance: for that the man so faihng, does not suppose his acts to be right before he is under the influence of passion, is quite plain*. There are people who partly agree with Socrates, Attempted and partly not : that nothing can be stronger than tiona of Knowledge, they agree, but that no man acts in notio*n.^° contravention of his conviction of what is better, they do not agree; and so they say that it is not Knowledge, but only Opinion, which the man in question has, and yet yields to the instigation of his pleasures. ' This illustrates ihe expression, "Deceits of the Flesh." 238 ARISTOTLE'S BOOK VII. Answer. But then, if it is Opinion, and not Knowledge, that is, if the opposing conception be not strong, but only mild, (as in the case of real doubt,) the not abiding by it in the face of strong lusts would be excusable: but wickedness is not excusable, nor is any thing which deserves blame. Another Well then, is it Practical Wisdom, which in this raising ° case offets Opposition : for that is the strongest prin- AnTvter " ciple ? The supposition is absurd, for we shall have vbus^dl- *^^ same man uniting Practical Wisdom and Im- aoription of perfect Self-Control, and surely no, single person would maintain that it is consistent with the character of Practical Wisdom, to do voluntarily what is very wrong; and besides we have shown before, that the very mark of a man of this character is aptitude to act, as distinguished from mere knowledge of what is right ; because he is a man conversant with particular details, and possessed of all the other virtues. Seif-Con- Again, if the having strong and bad lusts is Perfected uccessary to the idea of the man of Self-Control, tery il-^ tMs character cannot be identical with the man of compati- Perfected Self-Mastery, because the having strong desires or bad ones does not enter into the idea of this latter character: and yet the man of Self- Control must have such : for suppose them good ; then the moral state which shoxild hinder a man from following their suggestions must be bad, and so Self-Control would not be in all cases good : suppose them on the other hand to be weak and not wrong, it would be nothing grand; nor any thing great, supposing them to be wrong and weak. Point II. Again, if Self-Control makes a man apt to abide CHAP. n. ETHICS. 239 by all opinions without exception, it may be bad, it may be as suppose the case of a false opinion : and if pirt from^ Imperfect Self-Control makes a man apt to depart from all without exception, we shall have cases where it will be good ; take that of Neoptolemus in the Philoctetes of Sophocles, for instance : for he is to be praised for not abiding by what he was persuaded to by Ulysses, because he was pained at being guilty of falsehood. Or again, false sophistical reasoning presents a or wrong difficulty : for because men wish to prove paradoxes aTesqiu-^' that they maybe counted clever when they sue-*'""' ceed, the reasoning that has been used, becomes a difficulty : for the intellect is fettered ; a man being unwilling to abide by the conclusion, because it does not please his judgment, but unable to advance, because he cannot disentangle the web of sophistical reasoning. Or again, it is conceivable on this supposition, pr depart- that folly joined with Imperfect Self-Control may one may - , , . . 1 r ^ remedy the turn out, m a given case, goodness : tor by reason evil of the of his imperfection of self-control, a man acts in a'^^"'"*'""' way which contradicts his notions ; now his notion is, that what is really good is bad, and ought not to be done ; and so he will eventually do what is good, and not what is bad. Again, on the same supposition, the man who He who ° . . 11 1 . abides by, actmg on conviction, pursues and chooses things is not ai- because they are pleasant, must be thought athanlewho better man than he who does so, not by reason ^X^his of a quasi-rational conviction, but of Imperfect ™'''^"*''"»- Self-Control : because he is more open to cure by reason of the possibility of his receiving a contrary conviction. But to the man of Imperfect Self- 240 ARISTOTLE'S book vii. Control would apply the proverb, " when water chokes, what should a man drink then ?" for had he neyer been convinced at all in respect of what he does% then by a conviction in a contrary direc- tion, he might have stopped in his course; but now, though he has had convictions, he notwith- standing acts against them. Point VII. Again, if any and every thing is the object- matter of Imperfect and Perfect -Self-Control, who is the man of Imperfect Self-Control simply ? be- cause no one unites all cases of it, and we commonly say that some men are so simply, not adding any particular thing in which they are so. Well, the difficulties raised are pretty near such as I have described them, and of these theories we must remove some, and leave others as established; because the solving of a difficulty is a positive act of establishing something as true. CHAP. III. Of the object-matter of Self-Coutrol. Of the nature of the conviction against which the man of Imperfect Self-Control acts. Questions Now we must examine, first, whether men of stated. Imperfect Self-Control act with a knowledge of what is right or not : next, if with such knowledge, " Another reading omits the ii^: the meaning of the whole passage would be exactly ihe same : it would then run, " if he had been convinced of the rightness of what he does, i. e. if he were now acting on conviction, he might stop in his course on a change of conviction." CHAP. III. ETHICS. 241 in what sense ; and next, what are we to assume is the object-matter of the man of Imperfect Self- Control, and of the man of Self-Control ; I mean, whether pleasure and pain of all kinds, or certain definite ones ; and as to Self-Control and En- durance, whether these are designations of the same character, or different. And in Hke manner we must go into all questions which are connected with the present. But the real starting point of the enquiry is, xhemaa whether the two characters of Self-Control, and control. Imperfect Self-Control, are distinguished by their ^^^^(°J^ object-matter, or their respective relations to it.Seif-con- " ^ trol, have I mean, whether the man of Imperfect Self-Control certain is such, simply by virtue of having such and suchject-matter, object-matter ; or not, but by virtue of his being tinguished' related to it in such and such a way, or by virtue an^hCTV of both : next, whether Self-Control and Imperfect Ji^^^j^^'^j^; Self-Control are unlimited in their object-matter :**"''°s *<>'*■ because he who is designated without any addition a man of Imperfect Self-Control, is not unlimited in his object-matter, but has exactly the same as the man who has lost all Self-Control : nor is he so designated because of his relation to this object- matter merely, (for then his character would be identical with that just mentioned, loss of all Self- Control,) but because of his relation to it being such and such. For the man who has lost all The former Self-Control is led on with dehberate moral choice, deiibfrafe holding that it is his line to pursue pleasure as itP"'^i'°^®' rises : while the man of Imperfect Self-Control the latter does not think that he ought to pursue it, but does"" ' pursue it all the same. Now as to the notion that it is True Opinion in spite ot R 242 ARISTOTLE'S book va. what io and not Knowledge, in contravention of which Self-Con- men fail in Self-Control, it makes no difference to OpiDion? the point in question, because some of those who hold Opinions have no doubt about them, but sup- pose themselves to have accurate Knowledge ; if then it is urged, that men holding Opinions, will be more likely than men who have Knowledge to act in contravention of their conceptions, as having but This does a moderate belief in them; we reply, Kno^^-^ledge out of the will not differ in this respect from Opinion : because some men believe their own Opinions no less firmly than others do their positive Knowledge : Heraclitus is a case in point. Rather the following is the account of it : the term knowing has two senses, for both the man who does not use his Knowledge, and he who does, Know- are said to know: there will be a difference between ledge may beta a man a man's acting wrongly, who though possessed of naed. Knowledgfej does not call it into operation, arid his doing so who has it, and actually exercises it : the latter is a strange case, but the mere having, if riot exercising, presents no anomaly. All action Again, as there are two kinds of propositioriS general afffectiug actiou'". Universal and particular, there is pardcui'ar rio rcasou ^i'hy a man may not act against his ■ turn'-"* Knowledge, having both propositions in his mind, using the universal, but not the particular, for the particulars are the objects of moral actiori. Sometimes There is a difference also in universal prdposi- ledge^of" tions'; a universal proposition may relate partly '' Major and minor Premisses of the trvXKoyt&iiol rav irpaKr&v. ' Some necessarily implying knowledge of the particular, others not. CHAP. III. ETHICS. 243 to a maii's self, and partly to the thing in question : the former take the following for instance; " dry food is good that of the for every man/' this may have the two minor sometimes premisses, " this is a man," and " so and so is dry""*" food ;" but whether a giveii substance is So and soi a matt either has not the EhowledgeV or does not exert it. According to these different senses, there will be an immense difference^ so that for a man to • know in the one sense, and yet act wrbngly, would be nothing strange> but in any of the other senses it would be a matter for wonder; Again, men may have Knowledge in a way The body different ffoM any of those which have been now"verpower stated: fbr we constantly see a man's state go*'"^™"'^' differing by having and not using Knowledge, that he has it in a sense, and also has not ; when a man is asleep, for instance, or mad> or drunk : wellj iMen Under the actual operation of passiouj are in fexactly similar conditions ; for anger> lust> and some Other such-like things, manifestly make changes even in the body, and in some they even cause madness 5 ii is plain then that we must say the men of Impeifett Self-Control are in a state similar to these* And their Saying what embodies Knowledge is Mere right rio proof of their actually then exercising it, be- hot show tause they who are under the operation of these k^^',^, passions repeat demonstrations, and verses of Em-^^'^se- pedocles', just as children. When first learning, sliing words together, but as yet know nothing ^ their meaning, because they nlust grow into it, and this is a process requiring time : so that we ' As a inodejn pStallel, take old Trumbull in Scott's ' Red CfaUntlet.' r2 244 ARISTOTLE'S book vii. must suppose these men who fail in Self-Control to say these moral sayings, just as actors do. Metaphy. Furthermore, a man may look at the account of lution. " the phaenomenon in the following way, from an examination of the actual working of the mind: All action may be analysed into a syllogism, in which the one premiss is an universal maxim, and - the other concerns particulars of which Sense [moral or physical, as the case may be} is cog- nizant : now when one results from these two, it follows necessarily that, as far as theory goes, the mind must assert the conclusion, and in practical propositions the man must act accordingly. For instance, let the universal be, "All that is sweet should be tasted," the particular, " This is sweet ;" it follows necessarily, that he who is able and is not hindered should not only draw, but put- in practice, the conclusion, " This is to be tasted." When then there is in the mind one universal proposition forbidding to taste, and the other, "AH that is sweet is pleasant," with its minor, " This is sweet," (which is the one that really works,) and desire happens to be in the man, the first universal bids him avoid this, but the desire leads him on to taste ; for it has the power of moving the various organs : and so it results, that he fails in Selfr Control, in a certain sense under the influence of Reason and Opinion, not contrary in itself to Reason, but only accidentally so ; because it is the desire that is contrary to Right Reason, but not the Opinion": and so for this reason brutes are not « That is, as 1 understand it, either the major or the minor premiss : it is true, that " all that is sweet is pleasant ;" it is true also, that "this is sweet:" what is contrary to Right Reason is. CHAP. tit. ETHICS. 245 accounted of Imperfect Self-Control, because they have no power of conceiving universals, but only of receiving and retaining particular impressions. As to the manner in which the ignorance is removed, and the man of Imperfect Self-Control recovers his Knowledge, the account is the same as with respect to him who is dnmk or asleep, and is not pecuUar to this affection, so physiologists'" are the right people to apply to. But whereas the the bringing in this minor to the major, i. e. the universal maxim, forbidding to taste. Thus; a man goes to a convivial meeting with the maxim in his mind, " AW excess is to be avoided;" at a certain time his aur6r] is more so than that arising from Anger : because in Aftge* there is no insolence ^ Well then, it is clear that Imperfect Self-Control in respect of Lusts is more disgraceful than that in respect of Angfer, and that the objefct-iliatter of Self-Control, and the Imperfection of it, ate bddily Lusts arid pleasures; but of these last \^e rttust take into account th^ differences : for, as was said at the commencement, some are projper to the human race, and natural both in kind and degree^ others Bfutish, arid others caused by maimings and diseases. Now the first of these only are the object-matter What is of Perfected Self-Mastery, and utter absence off°noTthe Self-Control ; and therefore we never attribute ^jft^'jof either of these states to Brutes, (except nieta-|™P^J^^^_* phorically, and wheiriever any one kind of animal t™i simply, differs entirely from another in insolence, mis- chievousness, or voracity,) because they have not moral choice or process of deliberation, but are f The reasoning here being somewhat obscure from the con- ci^feness of exprefeion, the following exposition of it is subjoined. Actions of husi are'wrong actions done vpith pleasure. Wrong actions done with" pleasure are more justly objects of wrath* , Such as are more justly objects of wrath are more unjust, .•. Actions of Lust are more unjust. * vfipis is introduced as the single instance from which this premiss is proved inductively. See the account of it in the Chapter of the Rhef. i-e'fSrr^d to in the preceding note. 256 ARISTOTLE'S book vir. quite different from that kind of creature, just as are madmen, compari- Brutishuess is less in the scale than Vice, yet tishness it IS to be regarded with more tear : because it '"^'is not that the highest principle has been cor- rupted, as in the human creature, but the subject has it not at all. It is much the same, therefore, as if one should compare an inanimate with an animate being, which were the worse: for the badness of that which has no principle of origination is always less harmful; but Intellect is such a principle. A similar case would be the comparing injustice and an unjust man together : for in different ways each is the worst: a bad man would produce ten thousand times as much harm as a bad brute. • CHAP. VII. An enumeration and description of the various characters, (taking in the idea of pains as well as pleasures.) Now with respect to the pleasures and pains which come to a man through Touch and Taste, and the desiring or avoiding such, (which we determined before to constitute the object-matter of the states of utter absence of Self-Control and Perfected Self-Mastery,) one may be so disposed as to yield to temptations, to which most men would be superior, or to be superior to those to which most men would yield : in respect of plea- sures, these characters will be respectively the CHAP. vit. ETHICS. 257 man of Imperfect Self-Control, and the man of Self-Control ; and in respect of pains, the man of Softness, and the man of Endurance : but the moral state of most men is something between the two, even though they lean somewhat to the worse characters. Again, since of the pleasures indicated, some are necessary and some are not, others are so to a certain degree, but not the excess or defect of them, and similarly also of Lusts and pains, the The man man who pursues the excess of pleasant things, or destitute of such as are in themselves excess, or from moral fjo/"ja°°" choice, for their own sake, and not for any thing ^j^*^^' ^**^_ else which is to resvdt from them, is a man utterly ^ure," void of Self-Control : for he must be incapable of remorse, and so incurable, because he that has not remorse is incurable. (He that has too little love of pleasure is the opposite character, and the man of Perfected Self-Mastery the mean character.) He is of a similar character who avoids the bodily or deiibe- pains, not because he cannot, but because he ance of" " chooses not to, withstand them. ^*"'' But of the characters who go wrong without The man of choosing so to do, the one is led on by reason of Seif-Co*n- pleasure, the other because he avoids the pain ittwosimUar would cost him to deny his lust ; and so they are ™u°"^of' different the one from the other. Now every onep°"*'^°™' would pronounce a man worse for doing something base without any impulse of desire, or with a very slight one, than for doing the same from the impulse of a very strong desire, for striking a man when not angry, than if he did so in wrath : because one naturally says, " What would he have done had he been under the influence of passion ? (and 268 ARISTOTLE'S book vii. and so, less on this ground, by the bye, the man utterly void than the of Self-Control is worse than he who has it im- perfectly.) However, of the two characters which have been mentioned'', [as included in that of utter absence of Self-Control,] the one is rather Softness, the other properly that character. Furthermore, to the character of Imperfect Self- Control is opposed that of Self-Control, and to that of Softness that of Endurance : because En- Seif-Qon- during cousists in continued resistance, but Self- entftom Control in actual mastery, and continued resist- ance"' ance and actual mastery are as different as not and supe- being Gouquered is from conquering ; and so Self- nor to It. Qqjj|.^qJ jg more choiceworthy than Endurance. Thede- Again, he who fails when exposed to those fempt°ation tettiptations, against which the common run of to deter- ^^^ ^old out, and are well able to do so, is Soft 'hTaoter ^^^ Luxurious, (Luxury being a kind of Softness :) of him who the kind of man, I mean, to let his robe drag in yields. ' rS>v &ri \fx^ivT(ov. Considerable difference of opinion exists as to the proper meaning of these words. The emendation which substitutes wcparris for diwiXao-Tor removes all difficulty, as the clause would then naturally refer to tS>v fifi irpoaipaviiivav. but Zell adheres to the reading in the text of Bekker, because the authority of Mss. and old editions is all on this side. I understand iwkXov as meant to modify the word /tdKaielaf, which properly denotes that phase of wcpatrta (not aKoKairla) which is caused by pain. The aKSKaaros deliberately pursues pleasure and declines pain : if there is to be a distinct name for the latter phase, it comes under naXaxla more nearly than any other term, ihough perhaps not quite properly. Or the words may be understood as referring to the class of wrong acts caused by avoidance of pain, whether deliberate or otherwise, and then of course the names of fiaKoKia and aKokaa-ta may be fitly given respectively. CHAP. VII. ETHICS. 259 the dirt to avoid the trouble of Hfting it, and who, aping the sick man, does not however suppose himself wretched, though he is like a wretched man. So is it too with respect to Self-Control and the Imperfection of it : if a man yields to pleasures or pains which are violent and excessive, it is no matter for wonder, but rather for allow- ance, if he made what resistance he could; (in- stances are, Philoctetes in Theodectes' drama, when wounded by the viper ; or Cercyon in the Alope of Carcinus, or men who in trying to suppress laughter burst into a loud continuous fit of it, as happened, you remember, to Xenophantus,) but it is a matter for wonder when a man yields to, and cannot contend against, those pleasures or pains which the common herd are able to resist ; always supposing his failure not to be owing to natural constitution or disease, I mean, as the- Scythian kings are constitutionally Soft, or the natural difference between the sexes- Again, the man who is a slave to amusement is commonly thought to be destitute of Self-Control, but he really is Soft ; because amusement is an act of relaxing, being an act of resting, and the character in question is one of those who exceed due bounds in respect of this. Moreover, of Imperfect Self-Control there are Two forms two forms. Precipitancy, and Weakness : those feet seif- who have it in the latter form, though they have *^°°*"'- made resolutions do not abide by them, by reason of passion ; the others are led by passion, because they have never formed any resolutions at all : while there are some who, like those who by tickling themselves beforehand get rid of ticklish- s2 260 ARISTOTLE'S book vn. ness, having felt and seen beforehand the approach of temptation, and roused up themselves and their resolution, yield not to passion ; whether the temptation be somewhat pleasant, or somewhat painful. The Precipitate form of .Imperfect Self- Control they are most Uable to, who are con- stitutionally of a sharp or melancholy tempera- ment : because the one by reason of the swiftness, the other by reason of the violence, of their passions, do not wait for Reason, because they are disposed to follow whatever notion is impressed m)on their minds. Bemoise i^Again, the man utterly destitute of Self-Control, attaches, i ii^ ■ j ' j not to the 3-8 was observed beiore, is not given to remorse : t"teofs*if-^°^ it is part of his character, that he abides by Control, his moral choice : but the man of Imperfect Self- buttothe ^ , . 1 1 n , , man of im- Coutrol IS almost made up oi remorse : and so the Seitcon- case is not as we determined it before, but the therefore '^former is iucurable, and the latter may be cured: curable. £qj. depravity is like chronic diseases, dropsy and consumption, for instance, but Imperfect Self- Control is hke acute disorders : the former being The two a continuous evil, the latter not so. And, in fact, dlferentln Imperfect Self-Control and Confirmed Vice are kind. different in kind : the latter being imperceptible to its victim, the former not so \ The two S"* °^ *^^ different forms of Imperfect Self- forms of Control, those are better who are carried off their Imperiect ' " If we went into a hospital where all were sick or dying, we should think those least ill who were insensihle to pain : a physician who knew the whole, would hehold them with despair. And there is a mortification of the soul as well as of the hody, in which the first symptoms of reiurning hope are pain and anguish." Sewell, Seimons to Young Men, (Serm. xii.) CHAP. VII. ETHICS. 261 feet by a sudden access of temptation, than theyseif Con- who have Reason, but do not abide by it ; these pared, the last being overcome by passion less in degree, andprXr^ed**^ not wholly without premeditation, as are the others : for the man of Imperfect Self-Control is like those who are soon intoxicated and by little wine, and less than the common run of men. Well then, that Imperfection of Self-Control is further not Confirmed Viciousness, is plain : and yet^he'^cha-" perhaps it is in a way, because in one sense it imperfect is contrary to moral choice, and in another the^^^J"^""" result of if : at all events, in respect of the actions, the case is much like what Demodocus said of the Miletians. " The people of Miletus are not fools, but they do just the kind of things that fools do ;" and so they of Imperfect Self-Control are not unjust, but they do unjust acts. But to resume. Since the man of Imperfect Self-Control is of such a character as to follow bodily pleasures in excess, and in dejiance of Right Reason, without acting on any deliberate con-Themao viction, whereas the man utterly destitute of Self- of Seif- Control does act upon a conviction, which rests on hopekss," his natural inclination to follow after these pleasures ; ^cLTn a''^ the former may be easily persuaded to a different ^^'^J^^^^..^^ course, but the latter not : for Virtue and Vice respectively preserve and corrupt the moral prin- ciple ; now the motive is the principle or starting ' Before the time of trial comes, the mau deliberately makes his Moral Choice to act rightly; hut at the moment of acting, the powerful strain of desire makes him contravene this choice : his Will does not act in accordance with the affirmation or negation of his Reason, His actions are therefore of the mixed kind. See Book III. chap. 1. and note f, on page 198. 262 ARISTOTLE'S book vn. point in moral actions, just as axioms and postulates are in mathematics : and neither in morals, nor mathemaitics, is it Reason which is apt to teach the principles; but Excellence, either natural, or acquired by custom, in holding right notions with respect to the principle. He who does this in morals is the man of Perfected Self-Mastery, and the contrary character is the man utterly destitute of Self-Control. Another Again, there is a character liable to be taken off description, . p . , „ ,>-i-,-i-r. of the two his teet m defiance of ilight Reason, because of characters, . i • p i. i_ passion ; whom passion so far masters as to pre- vent his acting in accordance with Right Reason, but not so far as to make him be convinced that it is his proper line to follow after such pleasures without limit : this character is the man of Im- perfect Self-Control, better than he who is utterly destitute of it, and not a bad man simply, and without qualification : because in him the highest and best part, i. e. principle, is preserved : and there is another character opposed to him who is apt to abide by his resolutions, and not to depart from them ; at all events, not at the in- stigation of passion. It is evident then from all this, that Self- Control is a good state, and the Imperfection of it a bad one. CHAP. VIII. J> Of the relation which Stedfastaess in Opinion, and the contrary, hear to Self-Control and Imperfect Self- Control respectively. Point II. Next comes the question, whether a man is a stated. ^^^^ ^£ Self-Control, foy. abiding by his conclusions CHAP. VIII. ETHICS. 263 and moral choice, be they of what kind they may, or oiily by the right one; or again, a man of Imperfect Self-Control, for not abiding by his conclusions and moral choice, be they of whatever kind ; or, to put the case we did before, is he such, for not abiding by false conclusions and wrong moral choice ? Is not this the truth, that incidentally it is by The true conclusions and moral choice of any kind, that the °^°^^^''" one character abides, and the other does not, but per se true conclusions and right moral choice": to explain what is meant by incidentally, and per se; suppose a man chooses or pursues this thing for the sake of that, he is said to pxu-sue and choose that per se, but this only incidentally. For the term per se, we use commonly the word " simply," and so, in a way, it is opinion of any kind soever by which the two characters respectively abide or not, but he is simply entitled to the designations, who abides or not by the true opinion. There are also people, who have a trick ofpositive iabiding by their own opinions, who are commonly ^eri^'edf^ called Positive, as they who are hard to be per- suaded, and whose convictions are not easily changed : now these people bear some resemblance to the character of Self-Control, just as the prodigal to the liberal, or the rash man to the brave, but they are different in many points. The man of Self-Control does not change by reason of passion and lust, yet when occasion so requires, he will be ' Let a man be punctual on principle to any one engagement in the day, and he must, as a matter of course, keep all his others in their due places rdatively to this one; and so will often wear an appearance of beitig needlessly punctilious in trifles. 264 ARISTOTLE'S book vii. A man may easy of pcrsuasion : but the Positive man changes aresTutiranot at the Call of Reason, though many of this w™| mo- class take up certain desires, and are led by their *"*' pleasures. Among the class of Positive are the Opinionated, the Ignorant, and the Bearish : the first, from the motives of pleasure and pain: I mean, they have the pleasurable feeiling of a kind of victory, in not having their convictions changed, 'and they are pained when their decrees, so to speak, are reversed; so that, in fact, they rather resemble the man of Imperfect Self-Control, than the man of Self-Control. or depart' Again, there are some who depart from their on a right resolutions, not by reason of any Imperfection of mo ive. Self-Control ; take, for Instance, Neoptolemus in the Philoctetes of Sophocles. Here certainly pleasure was the motive of his departure from his resolution, but then it was one of a noble sort: for to be truthful was noble in his eyes, and he had been persuaded by Ulysses to he. So it is not every one who acts from the motive of pleasure, who is utterly destitute of Self-Control or base, or of Imperfect Self-Control, only he who acts from the impulse of a base pleasure. CHAP. IX, Notes additional and supplementary. Points IV an'd-VIt^hed upon. Of the man MOREOVER as there is a character who takes little sensi- less pleasTiTe than he ought in bodily enjoyments> pleasures.^ and he also fails to abide by the conclusion of his CHAP. XI. ETHICS. 265 Reason ', the man of Self-Control is the mean be- tween him and the man of Imperfect Self-Control : that is to say, the latter fails to abide by them, because of somewhat too much, the former, because of somewhat too little ; while the man of Self- Control abides by them, and never changes by reason of any thing else than such conclusions. Now of course since Self-Conti'ol is good, both why Seif- the contrary States must be bad, as indeed they viewed m plainly are : but because the one of them is seen °ufy to^the in few persons, and but rarely in them, Self-Control '^"'^ °^'*- comes to be viewed as if opposed only to the Im- perfection of it, just as Perfected Self-Mastery is thought to be opposed only to utter want of Self- Control. Again, as many terms are used in the way of Question similitude, so people have come to talk of the Self- ed onr" Control of the man of Perfected Self-Mastery, in the way of similitude : for the man of Self-Control and the man of Perfected Self-Mastery have this in common, that they do nothing against Right Reason on the impulse of bodily pleasures, but then the former has bad desires, the latter not; and the latter is so constituted as not even to feel pleasure contrary to his Reason, the former feels, but does not yield to, it. Like again are the man of Imperfect Self-Control, and he who is utterly destitute of it, though in reality distinct : both follow bodily pleasures, but ' Because he is destitute of these minbr springs of action, which are intended to supply the defects of the higher principle. See Bp. Butler's first Sermon on Compassion, and the conclusion of note i, in page 200. 266 ARISTOTLE'S book vii. the latter under a notion that it is the proper line for hini to take, the former without any such notion. Qaestion^-.^(_^_Ajnd it is not possible for the same man to be at ed on. once a man of Practical Wisdom, and of Imperfect Self-Control: because the character of Practical Wisdom includes, as we showed before, goodness of moral character. And again, it is not knowledge merely, but aptitude for action, which constitCites Practical Wisdom : and of this aptitude, the man of Imperfect Self-Control is destitute. But there is no reason why the Clever man should not be of Imperfect Self-Control : and the reason why some men are occasionally thought to be men of Practical Wisdom, and yet of Imperfect Self-Control, is this, that Cleverness differs from Practical Wisdom in the way I stated in a former book, and is very near it so far. as the intellectual element is concerned, but differs in respect of the moral choice. Further Nor is the man of Imperfect Self-Control like thecharao-the man who both has and calls into exercise his perfect'" knowledge, but like the man who, having it, is trcd^™' overpowered by sleep or wine. Again, he acts voluntarily, (because he knows, in a certain sense, what he does, and the result of it,) but he is not a confirmed bad man, for his moral choice is good^ so he is at all events only half bad. Nor is he unjust, because he does not act with dehberate intent : for of the two chief forms of the character, the one is not apt to abide by his deliberate reso- lutions, and the other, the man of constitutional strength of passion, is not apt to deliberate at all. So in fact the man of Imperfect Self-Control is like a community which makes all proper enact- CHAP. IX. ETHICS. 267 ments, and has admirable laws, only does not act on them, verifying the scoff of Anaxandrides, " That State did will it, which carfes nought for laws ;" whereas the bad man is like one which acts upon its laws, but'^then they unfortunately are bad ones. Imperfection of Self-Control, and Self-Control, The ordi- after all, are above the average state of men ; be- of man is cause he of the latter character is more true to his seitcon- Reason, and the former less so, than is in thej^pg^f^^t power of most men. fro["'^°°' Again, of the two forms of Imperfect Self-Control, That kind .1.. •! Ti'iji 1 1 of the latter that is more easily cured which they have who are wWoh is constitutionally of strong passions, than that oi^^^^^^' those who form resolutions and break them; andlf"*'*''^?' ' that called they that are so through habituation, than thej that Weakness. are so naturally ; since of course, custom is easier to change than nature, because the very resemblance of custom to nature is what constitutes the difficulty of changing it ; as Evenus says, " Practice, I say, my friend, doth long endure. And at the last is even very nature." We have now said then what Self-Control is, what Imperfection of Self-Control, what Endurance, ajnd what Softness, and how these states are mutually related. BOOK VIII. CHAPTER I. IntroductOTy. Reasons for introducing a dissertation on Friendship into this Treatise. Next would seem properly to follow a dissertation on Friendship: because, in the first place, it is either itself a virtue, or connected with virtue ; and next, it is a thing most necessary for life, since no one would choose to live without friends, though he should have all the other good things in the world : and, in fact, men who are rich or possessed of authority and influence, are thought to have special need of friends : for where is the use of such pros- perity, if there be taken away the doing of kind- nesses, of which friends are the most usual and most commendable objects ? Or how can it be kept or preserved without friends, because the greater it is, so much the more slippery and hazardous : in poverty moreover, and all other adversities, men think friends to be their only reftige. Furthermore, Friendship helps the young to keep from error; the old, in respect of attention and such deficiencies in action as their weakness makes CHAP, I. ETHICS. 269 them liable to ; and those who are in their prime, in respect of noble deeds ; (" They two together going," Homer says, you may remember,) because they are thus more able to devise plans, and carry them out. Again, it seems to be implanted in us by Nature : as, for instance, in the parent towards the offspring, and the offspring towards the parent, (not merely in the hu^an species, but hkewise in birds and most animals,) and in those of the same tribe towards one another, and specially in men of the same nation ; for which reason we commend those men who love their fellows : and one may see in the course of travel, how close of kin and how friendly man is to man. Furthermore, Friendship seems to be the bond of Social Communities, and legislators seem to be more anxious to secure it than Justice even. I mean. Unanimity is somewhat hke to Friendship, and this they certainly aim at, and specially drive out faction as being inimical. Again, where people are in Friendship, Justice is not required'; but, on the other hand, though they are just, they need Friendship in addition, and that principle which is most truly just is thought to partake of the nature of Friendship. Lastly, not only is it a thing necessary, but . honourable hkewise : since we praise those who are fond of friends, and the having numerous friends is thought a matter of credit to a man ; some go so far as to hold, that " good man" and " friend" are terms synonymous. ' " Owe no man any thing, but to love one another : for he that loveih another hath fiilfilled the Law." Romans xiii. 8. 270 ARISTOTLE'S book tiii. CHAP. II. A statement of various opinions respecting Friendship. Yet the disputed points respecting it are not few : some men lay down that it is a kind of resemblance, and that men who are like one another are friends : whence come the' common sayings, " Like will to Hke," " Birds of a feather," and so on. Others, on the contrary, say, that all such come under the maxim, " Two of a trade never agree"." Again, some men push their enquiries on these points higher, and reason physically : as Euripides, who says, " The earth by drought consumed doth love the rain. And the great heaven, overcharged with rain. Doth love to fall in showers upon the earth." Herachtus, again, maintains, that " contrariety is expedient, and that the best agreement arises from things differing, and that all things come into being in the way of the principle of antagonism." Empedocles, among others, in direct opposition to these, affirms, that " Hke aims at Hke." These physical questions we will take leave to omit, inasmuch as they are foreign to the present enquiry ; and we will examine such as are proper to man, and concern moral characters and feeHngs : as, for instance, " Does Friendship arise among all '' Kepafieis- The Proverb in full is a line from Hesiod, KOI (Cfpajueii Kfpafiei Korea Koi tcktow TeKTwy, CHAP. III. ETHICS. 271 without distinction, or is it impossible for bad men to be friends ?" and; " Is there but one species of Friendship, or several:" for they who ground the opinion^, that there is but one on the fact that Friendship admits of degrees, hold that upon insuf- ficient proof ; because things which are different in species admit likewise of degrees ; (on this point we have spoken before.) CHAP. III. Of the object-matter of Friendship. Our view will soon be cleared on these points, when we have ascertained what is jp-operly the object-matter of Friendship : for it is thought that not every thing indiscriminately, but some peculiar matter alone, is the object of this affection ; that is to say, what is good, or pleasurable, or useful, j Now it would seem, that that is useful through which accrues any good or pleasure, and so the objects of Friendship, as absolute Ends,- are the good and the pleasurable. A question here arises ; whether it is good absolutely, or that which is good to the individual?;, for which men feel Fpendship, (these two being sometimes distinct:) and similarly in respect of the pleasurable. It seems then that each in- dividual feels it towards that which is good to himself, and that abstractedly it is the real good which is the object of Friendship, and to each 272 ARISTOTLE'S book viil. individual that which is good to each. It comes then to this ; that each individual feels Friendship not for what is, but for that which conveys to Ms mind the impression of being good to himself. But this will make no real difference, because that which is truly the object of Friendship, will also convey this impression to the mind. There are then three causes from which men feel Friendship : but the term is not applied to the case of fondness for things inanimate, because there is no requital of the affection, nor desire for the good of those objects : it certainly savours of the ridiculous to say, that a man fond of wine wishes well to it : the only sense in which it is true being that he wishes it to be kept safe and sound for his own use and benefit". But to the fiiend they say one should wish all good for his sake. And when men do thus wish P)od to another, (he not reciprocating the feeling,) people call them Kindly ; because Friendship they describe as being " Kindliness between persons who reciprocate it." But must they not add that the feeling must be mutually known ? for many men are kindly disposed towards those whom they have never seen, but whom they conceive to be amiable or usefiil : and this is the same thing, as if such a person had really received a kindness from one of these un- known men. Well, these are plainly Kindly-disposed towards ' In this sense, therefore, is it sung of Mrs. Gilpin, that she " two stone bottles found. To hold the liquor that she loved, And keep it safe and sound." CHAP. IV. ETHICS. 273 one another : but how can one call them friends, while their mutual feelings are unknown to one another ? to complete the idea of Friendship, then, it is requisite that they have kindly feelings towards one another, and wish one another good from one of the aforementioned causes, and that these kindly feelings should be mutually known. CHAP. IV. ^ Of the Imperfection of the Friendships based on the motives of Expediency and Pleasure. As the motives to Friendship differ in kind, so do the respective feehngs and Friendships. The species then of Friendship are three, in number equal to the objects of it, since in the line of each there may be " mutual affection mutually known." Now they who have Friendship for one another desire one another's good, according to the motive of their Friendship ; accordingly they whose motive is utility have no Friendship for one another really, but only in so far as some good arises to them from one another. And they whose motive is pleasure are in Hke case : I mean, they have Friendship for men of easy pleasantry, not because they are of a given character, but because they are pleasant to them- selves. So then they whose motive to Friendship is utility, love their friends for what is good to themselves ; they whose motive is pleasure, do so for what is pleasurable to themselves ; that is to 274 ARISTOTLE'S BOOK VIII. say, not in so far as the friend beloved is, but in so far as he is usefiil or pleasurable. These Friend- ships then are a matter of result : since the object is not beloved in that he is, but in that he furnishes advantage or pleasure, as the case may be. Such Friendships are of course very hable to dissolution, if the parties do not continue alike : I mean, that the others cease to have any Friendship for them, when they are no longer pleasurable or useful. Now it is the nature of utility, not to be permanent, but constantly varying : so, of course, when the motive which made them friends is vanished, the Friendship likewise dissolves ; since it existed only relatively to those circum- stances. Friendship of this kind is thought to exist prin- cipally among the old; (because men at that time of life pursue, not what is pleasurable, but what is profitable ;) and in such, of men in their prime, and of the young, as are given to the pursuit of profit. They that are such have no intimate intercourse with one another ; for sometimes they are not even pleasiurable to one another: nor, in fact, do they desire such intercourse, unless their friends are profitable to them, and they are pleasurable only in so far as they have hopes of advantage. With these Friendships is commonly ranked that of hospitality. But the Friendship of the young is thought to be based on the motive of pleasure : because they live at the beck and call of passion, and generally pursue what is pleasurable to themselves, and the object of the present moment: and as their age changes, so likewise do their pleasures. CHAP. V. ETHICS. 275 This is the reason why they form and dissolve Friendships rapidly : since the Friendship changes with the pleasurable object, and such pleasure changes quickly. The young are also much given up to Love ; this passion being, in great measure, a matter of impulse, and based on pleasure : for which cause they con- ceive Friendships, and quickly drop them, changing often in the same day : but these wish for society, and intimate intercourse with their friends, since they thus attain the object of their Friendship. CHAP. V. On the perfections of the Friendship hased on virtue, and the imperfections of the other two kinds. That then is perfect Friendship, which subsists between those who are good, and whose similarity consists in their goodness : for these men wish one another's good in similar ways; in so far as they are good^ (and good they are in themselves) ; and those are specially friends, who wish good to their friends for their sakes, because they feel thus towards them on their own account, and not as a mere matter of result; so the friendship between these men continues to subsist so long as they are j good, and goodness, we know, has in it a principle of permanence. Moreover, each party is good abstractedly, and also relatively to his friend, for all good men are not only absti:actedly good, but also usefiil to one another. Such friends are also mutually pleasurable, t2 276, ARISTOTLE'S book viir, because all good men are so abstractedly, and also relatively to one another, inasmuch as to each individual, those actions are pleasurable which correspond to his nature, and all such as are like them. Now when men are good, these will be always the same, or at least similar. Friendship then under these circumstances is permanent, as we should reasonably expect, since it combines in itself all the requisite qualifications of friends, I niean, that Friendship of whatever kind is based upon good or pleasure, (either abstractedly or relatively to the person entertaining the sentiment of Friendship,) and results from a similarity of some sort ; and to this kind belong all the aforementioned requisites in the parties themselves, because in this the parties are similar, and so on^: moreover, in it there is the abstractedly good, and the abstractedly pleasant, and as these are specially the object-mat- ter of Friendship, so the feehng and the state of Friendship is found most intense and most ex- cellent in men thus quahfied, . Rare it is probable Friendships of this kind will be, because men of this kind are rare. Besides, all requisite qualifications being presupposed, there is farther required time and intimacy: for as the proverb says, men cannot know one another, '' till they have eaten the requisite quantity of salt together ;" nor can they in fact admit one another to intimacy, much less be fi"iends, till each has lappeared to the other, and been proved to be a fit 'object of Friendship, They who speedily com- ^ Cardwell's reading, favrg-ycip ofioioi, koI rA Xonra, is here adopted, es yielding a better sense than Bekker's. CHAP. V. ETHICS. 277 mence an interchange of friendly actions, may be said to wish to be friends, but they are not so, unless they are also proper objects of Friendship, and mutually known to be such : that is to say, a desire for Friendship may arise quickly, but not Friendship itself. Well, this Friendship is perfect, both in respect of the time, and in all other points ; and exactly the same and similar results accrue to each party from the other; which ought to be the case between friends. The Friendship based upon the pleasurable is, so to say, a copy of this, since the good are sources of pleasure to one another: and that based on utility hkewise, the good being also useful to one another. Between men thus connected Friend- ships are most permanent, when the same result j accrues to both from one another, pleasure, for ' instance ; and not merely so, but from the same I source, as in the case of two men of easy pleasantry; and not as it is in that of a lover and the object of his affection, these not deriving their pleasure from the same causes, but the former from seeing the latter, and the latter from receiving the attentions of the former : and when the bloom of youth fades, the Friendship sometimes ceases also, because then the lover derives no pleasure from seeing, and the object of his affection ceases to receive the atten- tions which were paid before : in many cases, how- ever, people so connected continue friends, if being of similar tempers, they have come from custom to like one another's disposition. Where people do not interchange pleasure, but profit, in matters of Love, the Friendship is both 278 ARISTOTLE'S book viii. less intense in degree, and also less permanent : in fact, they who are Mends because of advantage, commonly part when the advantage ceases : for, in reality, they never were friends of one another, but of the advantage. So then it appears, that from motives of pleasure or profit, bad men may be friends to one another, or good men to bad men, or men of neutral character to one of any character whatever : but disinterestedly, for the sake of one another^ plainly the good alone can be friends; because bad men have no pleasure even in themselves, unless in so far as some advantage arises. And further, the Friendship of the good is alone superior to calumny ; it not being easy for men to believe a third person respecting one whom they have long tried and proved : there is between good > men mutual confidence, and the feeling that one's friend would never have done one wrong, and all ' other such things as are expected in Friendship really worthy the name ; but in the other kinds there is nothing to prevent all such suspicions. I call them Friendships, because since men commonly give the name of friends to those who are connected from motives of profit, (which is justified by political language, for alliances between states are thought to be contracted with a view to advantage,) and to those who are attached to one another by the motive of pleasure, (as children are,) we may perhaps also be allowed to call such persons friends, and say there are sever9.1 species of Friendship ; primarily and specially that of the good, in that they are good, and the rest only in the way of resemblance : I mean, people connected CHAP. VI. ETHICS. 279 otherwise are friends, in that way in which there arises to them somewhat good and some mutual resemblance, (because, we must remember, the pleasurable is good to those who are fond of it.) These secondary Friendships, however, do not combine very well; that is to say, the same persons do not become friends by reason of advantage, and by reason of the pleasurable, for these matters of result are not often combined. And Friendship having been divided into these kinds, bad men will be friends by reason of pleasure or profit, this being their point of resemblance ; while the good are friends for one another's sake, that is, in so far as they are good. These last may be termed abstractedly and simply friends, the former as a matter of result, and termed friends from their resemblance to these last. CHAP. VI. On the method of sustaining Friendship. Further ; just as in respect of the different virtues, some men are termed good in respect of a certain inward state, others in respect of acts of working, so is it in respect of Friendship : I mean, they who live together, take pleasure in, and impart good to, one another ; but they who are asleep, or are locally separated, do not perform acts, but only are in such a state as to act in a friendly way, if they acted at all : distance has in itself no direct effect upon Friendship, but only prevents 280 ARISTOTLE'S book viu< the acting it out : yet, if the absence be pro- tracted, it is thought to cause a forgetfulness even of the Friendship : and hence it has been said, " many and many a Friendship hath want of inter- course destroyed." Accordingly, neither the old nor the morose appear to be calculated for Friendship, because the pleasurableness in them is small, and no one can spend his days in company with that which is positively painful, or even not pleasurable ; since to avoid the painfiil, and aim at the pleasurable, is one of the most obvious tendencies of human nature. They who get on with one another very fairly, but are not in habits of intimacy, are rather like people having kindly feelings towards one another, than friends ; nothing being so charac- teristic of friends, as the living with one another, because the necessitous desire assistance, and the happy, companionship, they being the last persons in the world for solitary existence : but people cannot spend their time together, unless they are mutually pleasurable, and take pleasure in the same objects, a quality which is thought to apper- tain to the Friendship of companionship. CHAP. VII. Repetition of some remarks. Supplementary remarks on the same subject. The connection then subsisting between the good, is Friendship par excellence, as has already been frequently said : since that which is ab- CHAP. VII. ETHICS. 281 stractedly good or pleasant, is thought to be an object of Friendship and choice-worthy, and to each individual whatever is such to him ; and the good man to the good man for both these reasons. (Now the entertaining the sentiment is hke a feeling, but Friendship itself like a state : because the former may have for its object even things inanimate, but requital of Friendship is attended with moral choice, which proceeds from a moral state : and again, men wish good to the objects of their Friendship for their sakes, not in the way of a mere feeling, but of moral state.) And the good, in loving their friend, love their own good, (inasmuch as the good man, when brought into that relation, becomes a good to him wdth whom he is so connected,) so that either party loves his own good, and repays his friend equally, both in wishing well, and in the plea- surable : for equaUty is said to be a tie of Friend- ship. Well, these points belong most to the Friendship between good men. But between morose, or elderly men. Friendship is less apt to arise, because they are somewhat awkward-tempered, and take less pleasure in inter- course and society ; these being thought to be specially friendly, and productive of Friendship: and so young men become friends quickly, old men not so, (because people do not become friends with any, unless they take pleasure in them ;) and in like manner, neither do the morose. Yet men of these classes entertain kindly feelings towards one another : they wish good to one another, and render mutual assistance in respect of their needs, but they are not quite friends, because they neither 282 ARISTOTLE'S book vm. spend their time together, nor take pleasure in one another, which circumstances are thought specially to belong to Friendship. To be a friend to many people, in the way of the perfect Friendship, is not possible ; just as you cannot love many at once : it is, so to speak, a state of excess, which naturally has but one object ; and besides, it is not an easy thing for one man to be very much pleased with many people at the same time, nor perhaps to find many really good. Again, a man needs experience, and to be in habits of close intimacy, which is very difficult. But it is possible to please many on the score of advantage and pleasure : because there are many men of the kind, and the services may be rendered in a very short time. Of the two imperfect kinds, that which most resembles the perfect is the Friendship based upon pleasure, in which the same results accrue from both, and they take pleasure in one another, or in the same objects ; such as are the Friendships of the young, because a generous spirit is most found in these. The Friendship because of advantage is the connecting link of shopkeepers. Then again, the very happy have no need of persons who are profitable, but of pleasant ones they have, because they wish to have people to live intimately with ; and what is painful they bear for a short time indeed, but continuously no one could support it, nay, not even the Chief Good itself, if it were painful to him individually : and so they look out for pleasant friends : perhaps they ought to require such to be good also ; and good moreover to themselves individually, because then CHAP. VIII.. ETHICS. 283 they will have all the proper reqviisites of Friend- ship; Men in power are often seen to make use of several distinct friends : for some are useful to them, and others pleasurable, but the two are not often united: because they do not, in fact, seek such as shall combine pleasantness and- goodness, nor such as shall be useful for honourable pur- jioses : but with a view to attain what is pleasant, they look out for men of easy-pleasantry ; and again, for men who are clever at executing any business put into their hands : and these qualifica- tions are not commonly found united in the same man. It has been already stated, that the good man unites the qualities of pleasantness and usefulness : but then such an one will not be a friend to a superior, unless he be also his superior in goodness : for if this be not the case, he cannot, being sur- passed in one point, make things equal by a pro- portionate degree of Friendship ". And characters who unite superiority of Station, and goodness, are not common. C^AP. VIII. Of Friendship between parties who are unequal. Now all the kinds of Friendship which have been already mentioned exist in a state of equality, ' The Great man will have a right to look for more Friendship than he bestows : but the Good man can feel Friendship only for, and in proportion to, the goodness of the other. 284 ARISTOTLE'S book Viii. inasmuch as either the same results accrue to both, and they wish the same things to one another, or else they barter one thing against another ; plea- sure, for instance, against profit : it has been said already, that Friendships of this latter kind are less intense in degree and less permanent. And it is their resemblance or dissimilarity to the same thing which makes them to be thought to be and not to be Friendships : they show like Friend- ships in right of their likeness to that which is based on virtue ; (the one kind having the plea- surable, the other the profitable, both of which belong also to the other ;) and again, they do not show hke Friendships by reason of their unlikeness to that true kind ; which unlikeness consists herein, that while that is above calumny, and so, perma- nent ; these quickly change^ and differ in many other points. But there is another form of Friendship, that, namely, in which the one party is superior to the other ; as between father and son, elder and younger, husband and Avife, ruler and ruled. These also differ one from another : I mean, the Friend- ship between parents and children is not the same as between ruler and the ruled, nor has the father the same towards the son as the son towards tne father, nor the husband towards the wife, as she towards him ; because the work, and therefore the excellence, of each of these is different, and different therefore are the causes of their feeling Friendship ; distinct and difierent therefore are their feelings and states of Friendship. And the same results do not accrue to each from the other, nor in fact ought they to be looked for : CHAP. VIII. ETHICS. 285 but when children render to their parents what they ought to the authors of their being, and parents to their sons what they ought to their oifspring, the Friendship between such parties will be permanent and equitable. Further ; the feeling of Friendship should be in a due proportion^ in all Friendships which are be- tween superior and inferior ; I mean, the better man, or the more profitable, and so forth, should be the object of a stronger feehng than he himself enter- tains, because when the feeling of Friendship comes to be after a certain rate, then equality in a certain sense is produced, which is thought to be a requisite in Friendship. (It must be remembered, however, that the equal is not in the same case as regards Justice and Friendship : for in strict Justice the exactly pro- portioned equal ranks first, and the actual nume- rically equal ranks second, while in Friendship this is exactly reversed.) And that equality is thus requisite, is plainly shown by the occurrence of a great difference of goodness or badness, or prosperity, or something «lse : for in this case, people are not any longer fi"iends, nay they do not even feel that they ought to be. The clearest illustration is perhaps the case of the gods, because they are most superior in aU good things. It is obvious too, in the case of kings, for they who are greatly their inferiors, do not feel entitled to be fiiends to them ; nor do people very insignificant, to be friends to those of very high excellence or wisdom. Of course, in such cases it is out of the question to attempt to define up to what point they may continue friends : 286 ARISTOTLE'S book viiv. for you may remove many points of agreement, and the Friendship last nevertheless ; but when one of the parties is very far separated, (as a god from men,) it cannot continue any longer. This has given room fpr a doubt, whether friends do really wish to their friends the very highest goods, as that they may be gods : because, in case the wish were accomphshed, they would no longer have them for friends, nor in fact would they have the good things they had, because friends are good things. If then it has been rightly said, that a friend wishes to his friend good things for -that friend's sake, it must be understood that he is to remain such as he now is : that is to say, he will wish the greatest good to him, of which as man he is capable: yet perhaps not all, because each man desires good for himself most of aU. It is thought, that desire for honour makes the mass of men wish rather to be the objects of the feeling of Friendship, than to entertain it themselves, (and for this reason they are fond of flatterers, a flatterer being a friend inferior or at least pretend- ing to be such,) and rather to entertain towards another the feeling of Friendship, than to be them- selves the object of it, which last is thought to be nearly the same as being honoured, which the mass of men desire. And yet men seem to choose honour, not for its own sake, but incidentally': I mean, the common run of men delight to be honoured by those in power, because of the hope it raises ; that is, they think they shall get from them any thing they may happen to be in want of, ' See note y, on page 107. CHAP. VIII. ETHICS. 287 SO they delight in honour as an earnest of future benefit. They again^ who grasp at honour at the hands of the good, and those who are really acquainted with their merits, desire to confirm their own opinion about themselves : so they take pleasure in the conviction, that they are good, which is based on the sentence of those who assert it. But in teing the objects of Friendship, men delight for its own sake, and so this may be judged to be higher than being honoured, and Friendship to be in itself choice-worthy. Friendship, moreover, is thought to consist in feeling, rather than being the object of, the sentiment of Friendship, which is proved by the delight mothers have in the feel- ing : some there are who give their children to be adopted and brought up by others, and knowing them, bear this feeling towards them, never seeking to have it returned, if both are not possible ; but seeming to be content with seeing them well off, and bearing this feeling themselves towards them, even though they, by reason of ignorance, never render to them any filial regard or love. Since then Friendship stands rather in the entertaining, than in being the object of, the senti- ment, and they are praised who are fond of their friends, it seems, that entertaining the sentiment is the Excellence of friends ; and so, in whomsoever this exists in due proportion, these are stable friends, and their Friendship is permanent. And in this way may they who are unequal best be friends, because they may thus be made equal. Equality, then, and similarity are a tie to Friend- ship, and specially the similarity of goodness. 288 ARISTOTLE'S book viii. because good men, being stable in themselves, are also stable as regards others, and neither ask degrading services, nor render them, but, so to say, rather prevent them : for it is the part of the good neither to do wrong themselves, nor to allow their friends in so doing. The bad, on the contrary, have no principle of stability : in fact, they do not even continue like themselves : only they come to be friends for a short time from taking delight in one another's wickedness. Those connected by motives of profit, or pleasure, hold together somewhat longer : so long, that is to say, as they can give pleasure or profit mutually. The Friendship based on motives of profit is thought to be most of all formed out of contrary elements : the poor man, for instance, is thus a friend of the rich, and the ignorant, of the man of information ; that is to say, a man desiring that of which he is, as it happens, in want, gives some- thing else in exchange for it. To this same class we may refer the lover and beloved, the beautiful and the ill-favoured. For this reason lovers some- times show in a ridiculous light, claiming to be the objects of as intense a feeling as they themselves entertain : of course, if they are equally fit objects of Friendship, they are perhaps entitled to claim this, but if they have nothing of the kind, it is ridiculous. Perhaps, moreover, the contrary does not aim at its contrary for its own sake, but incidentally : the mean is really what is grasped at ; it being good for the dry, for instance, not to become lAP. IX. ETHICS. . 289 et, but to attain the mean, and so of the ot, &c. However, let us drop these questions, because ley are in fact somewhat foreign to our business. CHAP. IX. The Relation between Justice and Friendship. It seems too, as was^ stated at the commence- ent, that Friendship and Justice have the same )ject-matter, and subsist between the same per- ns : I mean, that in every Communion there is ought to be some principle of Justice, and also me Friendship : men address as friends, for stance, those who are their comrades by sea, or war, and in like manner also those who are ought into Communion with them in other lys : and the Friendship, because also the istice, is coextensive with the Communion. lis justifies the common proverb, " the goods of ends are common," since Friendship rests upon )mmunion. Now brothers and intimate companions have all common, but other people have their property parate, and some have more in common, and hers less, because the Friendships likewise differ degree. So too do the various principles of istice involved, not being the same between rents and children as between brothers, nor tween companions as between fellow-citizenSu u 290 ARISTOTLE'S BOOK vni. merely, and so on of all the other conceivable Friendships. Different also are the principles of Injustice as regards these different grades, and the acts become greater from being done to friends ; for instance, it is worse to rob your companion than one who is merely a fellow-citizen ; to refuse help to a brother than to a stranger ; and to strike your father than any one else. So then the Justice naturally increases with the degree of Friendship, as though both were between the same parties, and of equal extent. All cases of Communion are parts, so to say, of the great Social one, sinc^ in them men associate with a view to some advantage, and to procure some of those things which are needful for life ; and the great Social Communion is thought origi- nally to have been associated and to continue for the sake of some advantage : this being the point at which legislators aim, affirming that to be just which is generally expedient. All the other cases of Communion aim at advantage in particular points ; the crew of a vessel, at that which is to result from the voyage which is undertaken, with a view to making money, or some such object ; comrades in war, at that which is to result from the war, grasping either at wealth or victory, or it may be a political position ; and those of the same tribe, or Demus, in like manner. Some of them are thought to be formed for pleasure's sake, those, for instance, of bacchanals or club-fellows, which are with a view to Sacrifice, or merely company. But all these seem to be ranged under the great Social one, inasmuch as CHAP. X. ETHICS. 291 the aim of this is not merely the expediency of the moment, but for Ufe, and at all times; with a view to which the members of it institute sacrifices and their attendant assemblies, to render honour to the Gods, and procure for themselves respite from toil, combined with pleasure. For it appears that sacrifices and rehgious assemblies in old times were made as a kind of first-fruits after the ingather* ing of the crops, because at such seasons they had most leisure. So then it appears that all the instances of Communion are parts of the great Social one : and corresponding Friendships will follow upon such Communions. CHAP. X. Of the various forms of Political Constitutions, and their types in Domestic life. Of Political Constitutions there are three kinds ; and equal in number are the deflections from them, being, so to- say, corruptions of them. The former are King-ship, Aristocracy, and that which recognises the principle of wealth, which it seems appropriate to call Timocracy, (I give to it the name of a political constitution, because people commonly do so.) Of these the best is Monarchy, and Timocracy the worst. From Monarchy the deflection is Despotism ; both being Monarchies, but widely differing from each other ; for the Despot looks to his own ad- u2 292 ARISTOTLE'S book Tin. vantage, but the King to that of his subjects : for he is in fact no King who is not thoroughly in- dependent and superior to the rest in all good things, and he that is this has no further wants : he will not then have to look to his own ad- vantage, but to that of his subjects, for he that is not in such a position is a mere King elected by lot for the nonce. But Despotism is on a contrary footing to this King-ship, because the Despot pursues his own good : and in the case of this its inferiority is most evident, and what is worst is contrary to what is best. The transition to Despotism is made from King-ship, Despotism being a corrupt form of Monarchy, that is to say, the bad King comes to be a Despot. From Aristocracy to Oligarchy the transition is made by the fault of the Rulers, in distributing the public property contj-ary to right proportion ; and giving either all that is good, or the greatest share, to themselves ; and the offices to the same persons always, making wealth their idol ; thus a few bear rule, and they bad men in place of the best. From Timocracy the transition is to Democracy, they being contiguous : for it is the nature of Timocracy to be in the hands of a multitude, and all in the same grade of property are equals Democracy is the least vicious of all, since herein the form of the constitution undergoes least change. Well, these are generally the changes to which the various Constitutions are Uable, being the least in degree, and the easiest to make. Likenesses, and, as it were, models of them, one CHAP. X. ETHICS. 293 may find even in Domestic life : for instance, the Communion between a Father and his Sons pre- sents the figure of Kingship, because the children are the Father's care : and hence Homer names Jupiter Father, because Kingship is intended to be a paternal rule. Among the Persians, however, the Father's rule is Despotic, for they treat their Sons as slaves. (The relation of Master to Slaves is of the nature of Despotism, because the point regarded herein is the Master's interest :) this now strikes me to be as it ought, but the Persian custom to be mistaken ; for, for different persons there should be different rules. Between Husband and Wife, the relation takes the form of Aristocracy, because he rules by right, and in such points only as the Husband should, and gives to the Wife all that befits her to have. Where the Husband lords it in every thing, he changes the relation into an Ohgarchy ; because he does it contrary to right, and not as being the better of the two. In some instances the Wives take the reins of government, being heiresses : here the rule is carried on, not in right of good- ness, but by reason of wealth and power, as it is in Oligarchies. Timocracy finds its type in the relation of Brothers : they being equal, except as to such differences as age introduces : for which reason, if they are very different in age, the Friendship comes to be no longer a fraternal one : while Democracy is represented specially by families .^hich have no head, (all being there equal,) or in which the proper head is. weak, and so every member does that which is right in his own eyes. 294 ARISTOTLE'S BgipK viii. CHAP. XL The Correlativeness of Friendsliip and Justice. Attendant then on each form of Political Con-, stitution, there plainly is Friendship, exactly coex- tensive with the principle of Justice ; that between a King and his Subjects, being in the relation of a superiority of benefit, inasmuch as he benefits his subjects ; it being assumed, that he is a good king, and takes care of their welfare, as a shepherd tends his flock; whence Homer (to quote him again) calls Agamemnon, " shepherd of the people." And of this same kind is the Paternal Friendship, only that it exceeds the former in the greatness of the benefits done : because the father is the author of being, (which is esteemed the greatest benefit,) and of maintenance and education : (these things are also, by the way, ascribed to ancestors gene^ rally :) and by the law of nature the father has the right of rule over his sons, ancestors over their descendants, and the king over his subjects. These friendships are also between superiors and inferiors, for which reason parents are not merely loved, but also honoured. The principle of Justice also between these parties is not exactly the same, but according to proportion, because so also is the Friendship. Now between Husband and Wife there is the same Friendship as in Aristocracy : for the relation is determined by relative excellence, and the better person has the greater good, and each has what befits : so too also is the principle of Justice be- tween them. CHAP. XI. ETHICS. 295 The Fraternal Friendship is Hke that of Com- panions, because brothers are equal and much of an age, and such persons have generally like feel- ings and like dispositions. Like to this also is the Friendship of a Timocracy : because the citizens are intended to be equal and equitable : rule, therefore, passes from hand to hand, and is dis- tributed on equal terms : so too is the Friendship accordingly. In the deflections from the constitutional forms, just as the principle of Justice is but small, so is the Friendship also : and least of all, in the most perverted form : in Despotism there is little or no Friendship, For generally, wherever the ruler and the ruled have nothing in common, there is no Friendship, because there is no Justice ; but the case is as between an artizan and his tool, or between body and soul, and master and servant; all these are benefitted by those who use them, but towards things inanimate there is neither Friendship nor Justice : nor even towards a horse or an ox, or a slave qua slave, because there is nothing in common : a slave as such is an animate tool, a tool an inanimate slave. Qua slave, then, there is no Friendship towards him, only qud man : for it is thought, that there is some principle of Justice between every man, and every other who can share in law and be a party to an agreement ; and so somewhat of Friendship, in so far as he is man. So in Despotisms, the Friendships and the principle of Justice are inconsiderable in extent, but in Democracies they are most considerable, because they who are equal have much in common. 296 ARISTOTLE'S book viii. CHAP. XII. Of the Friendships whose basis is blood-relationship. Now of course all Friendship is based upon Communion, as has been already stated : but one would be inclined to separate off from the rest the Friendship of Kindred, and that of Companions : whereas those of men of the same city, or tribe, or crew, and all such, are more pecuharly, it would seem, based upon Communion, inasmuch as they plainly exist in right of some agreement expressed or implied : among these one may rank also the Friendship of Hospitality. The Friendship of Kindred is likewise of many kinds, and appears in all its varieties to depend on the Parental : parents, I mean, love their children, as being a part of themselves, children love their parents, as being themselves somewhat derived from them. But parents know their offspring more than these know that they are from the parents> and the source is more closely bound to that which is produced, than that which is produced is to that which formed it : of course, whatever is derived from one's self is proper to that from which it is so derived, (as, for instance, a tooth or a hair, or any other thing whatever to him that has it :) but the source to it is in no degree proper, or in an inferior degree at least. Then again the greater length of time comes in : the parents love their oiFspring from the first mo- ment of their being, but their offspring them only after a lapse of time, when they have attained CHAP. XII. ETHICS. 297 intelligence ol* instinct. These considerations serve also to show why mothers have greater strength of affection than fathers. Now parents love their children as themselves, (since what is derived from themselves becomes a kind of other Self by the fact of separation,) but children their parents as being sprung from them. And brothers love one another from being sprung from the same> that is, their sameness with the common stock creates a sameness with one another^ ; whence come the phrases, " same blood," " root," and so on. In fact, they are the same in a sense, even in the separate distinct individuals. . Then again the being brought up together, and the nearness of age, are a great help towards Friend- ship, for a man hkes one of his own age, and persons who sympathise in disposition are com- panions, which accounts for the resemblance. be- tween the Friendship of Brothers and that of Companions. And cousins and all other relatives derive their bond of union from these, that is to say, from their community of origin : and the strength of this' bond varies according to their respective distances from the common ancestor. Further : the Friendship felt by children towards parents, and men towards the Gods, is as towards something good and above them ; because these have conferred the greatest possible benefits, in that they are the causes of their being, and being nourished, and of their having been educated after they were brought into laeing. ' See I. Topics, Chap. v. on the various senses of rgJroj'. 29S j\RISTOTLE'S book vm. And Friendship of this kind has also the plea- surable and the profitable, more than that between persons unconnected by blood, in proportion as their life is also more shared in common. Then again in the Fraternal Friendship there is all that there is in that of Companions, and more in the good, and generally in those who are alike ; in proportion as they are more closely tied, and firom their very birth have a feeling of aifection for one another to begin with, and as they are more hke in disposition who spring from the same stock, and have grown up together and been educated ahke : and besides this, they have the greatest opportuni- ties in respect of time for proving one another, and can therefore depend most securely upon the trial. Between Husband and Wife there is thought to be Friendship by a law of nature : man being by nature disposed to pair, more than to associate in Communities ; in proportion as the family is prior in order of time, and more absolutely necessary than the Community. And procreation is more common to him with other animals ; all the other animals have Communion thus far, but human creatures cohabit not merely for the sake of pro- creation, but also with a view to Ufe in general '" : because in this connection the works are immedi- ately divided, and some belong to the man, others to the woman : thus they help one the otheir, putting what is peculiar to each into the common stock. And for these reasons this Friendship is thought * " For the mutual society, help, and comfort that the one ought to have of the other, both in prosperity and adversity." CHAP. XIII. ETHICS. 299 to combine the profitable and the pleasurable : it "will be also based upon virtue if they are good people; because each has goodness, and they may take dehght in this quality in each other. Children too are thought to be a tie : accordingly the child- less sooner separate, for the children are a good common to both, and any thing in common is a bond of union. The question hbw a man is to live with his wife, or more generally one friend with another, appears to be no other than this, how it is just that they should : because plainly there is not the same principle of Justice between a friend and friend, as between strangers, or companions, or mere chance fellow travellers. CHAP. XIII. Of disputes arising in the Friendship because of advantage, with a solution of the questions raised. There are then, as was stated at the commence- ment of this book, three kinds of Friendship, and in each there may be friends on a footing of equality, and friends in the relation of superior and inferior ; we find, I mean, that people who are alike in _goodness become friends, and better with worse, and so too, pleasant people ; and also, because of advantage people are friends, either balancing exactly their mutual profitableness or differing from one another herein. Well then, those who 300 ARISTOTLE'S hooK viii. are. equal should in right of this equality be equal- ized also by the degree of their Friendship, and the other points, and those who are on a footing of inequality by rendering Friendship in proportion to the superiority of the other party. Fault-finding and blame arises, either solely or most naturally, in Friendship, of which utility is the motive: for they who are friends by reason of goodness, are eager to do kindnesses to one another, because this is a natural result of goodness and Friendship; and when men are vying with each other for this End, there can be no fault-finding nor contention: since no one is annoyed at one who entertains for him the sentiment of Friendship, and does kindnesses to him, but if of a refined mind, he requites him with kind actions. And suppose, that one of the two exceeds the other, yet as he is attaining his object, he will not find fault with his friend, for good is the object of each party. Neither can there well be quarrels between men, who are friends for pleasure's sake : because, sup- posing them to delight in living together, then both attain their desire ; or if not, a man would be put in a ridiculous light, who should find fault with another for not pleasing him, since it is in his power to forbear intercourse with him. But the Friendship because of advantage is very liable to fault-finding ; because as the parties use one another with a view to advantage, the require- ments are continually enlarging, and they think they have less than of right belongs to them, and find fault, because though justly entitled they do not get as much as they want : while they who do CHAP, XIII. ETHICS. 301 the kindnesses, can never come up to the require- ments of those to whom they are being done. It seems also, that as the Just is of two kinds, the unwritten and the legal, so Friendship because of advantage, is of two kinds, what may be called the Moral, and the Legal : and the most fruitful source of complaints is, that parties contract obli- gations, and discharge them not in the same hne of Friendship. The Legal is upon specified con- ditions, either purely tradesmanlike, from hand to hand, or somewhat more gentlemanly as regards time, but still by agreement a quid pro quo~ In this Legal kind, the obligation is clear, and admits of no dispute, the firiendly element is the delay in requiring its discharge : and for this reason, in some countries no actions can be maintained at Law for the recovery of such debts, it being held, that they wht) have dealt on the footing of credit, must be content to abide the issue. That which may be termed the Moral kind, is not upon specified conditions, but a man gives as to his friend, and so on: but still he expects to receive an equivalent, or even more, as though he had not given, but lent: he also will find fault, because he does not get the obligation discharged in the same way as it was contracted. Now this results from the fact, that all men, or the generahty at least, wish what is honourable, but, when tested, choose what is profitable ; and the doing kindnesses disinterestedly is honourable, while receiving benefits is profitable. In such cases one should, if able, make a return proportionate to the good received, and do so wilHngly, because 302 ARISTOTLE'S book viii. one ought not to make a disinterested friend' of a man against his inchnation: one should act, I say, as having made a mistake originally, and received kindness from one from whom one ought not to have received it, he being not a friend, nor doing the act disinterestedly ; one should therefore discharge one's self of the obligation, as having received a kindness on specified terms : and, if able, a man would engage to repay the kindness, while if he were unable, even the doer of it would not expect it of him : so that if he is able he ought to repay it. But one ought at first to ascertain from whom one is receiving kindness, and on what understanding, that on that same understanding one may accept it or not. A question admitting of dispute, is whether one is to measure a kindness by the good done to the receiver of it, and make this the standard by which to requite, or by the kind intention of the doer ? For they who have received kindnesses frequently plead in depreciation, that they have received from their benefactors such things as were small for them to give, or such as they themselves would have got from others : while the doers of the kind- nesses affirm, that they gave the best they had, and what could not have been got from others, and under danger, or in such like straits. May we not say, that as utility is the motive of the Friendship, the advantage conferred on the receiver must be the standard? because, he it is who requests the kindness, and the other serves ' Which one would he assuming he was, if one declined to recognise the ohligation to requite the favour or kindness. CHAP. XIV. ETHICS. 303 him in his need, on the understanding T;hat he is to get an equivalent : the assistance rendered is then exactly proportionate to the advantage which the receiver has obtained, and he should therefore repay as much as he gained by it, or even more, this being more creditable. In Friendships based on goodness, the question, of course, is never raised, but herein the motive of the doer seems to be the proper standard, since virtue and moral character depend principally on motive. CHAP. XIV. Of the disputes arising in Friendships hetween unequal parties. Quarrels arise also in those Friendships in which the parties are unequal, because each party thinks himself entitled to the greater share, and of course, when this happens, the Friendship is broken up. The man who is better than the other, thinks that having the greater share pertains to him of right, for that more is always awarded to the good man : and similarly the man who is more profitable to another than that other to him : " one who is useless," they say, " ought not to share equally, for it comes to a tax, and not a Friendship, unless the fruits of the Friendship are reaped in proportion to the works done :" their notion being, that as in a money partnership, they who contribute more receive more, so should it be in Friendship like- wise. 304 ARISTOTLE'S book \iu. On the other hand, the needy man, and the less virtuous, advance the same claim : they urge that " it is the very business of a good friend to help those who are in need, else what is the use of having a good or powerful friend, if one is not to reap the advantage at all ?" Now each seems to advance a right claim, and to be entitled to get more out of the connection than the other, only not more of the same thing : but the superior man should receive more respect, the needy man more profit : respect being the reward of goodness and beneficence, profit being the aid of need. This is plainly the principle acted upon in Political Communities : he receives no honour who gives no good to the common stock : for the property of the Public is given to him who does good to the Public, and honour is the property of the public ; for it is not possible both to make money out of the Public, and receive honour likewise ; because no one will put up with the less in every respect : so to him who suffers loss as regards money they award honour, but money to him who can be paid by ^fts : since, as has been stated before, the observing due proportion equalizes and preserves Friendship. Like rules then should be observed in the inter-i course of friends who are unequal ; and to him who advantages another in respect of money, or good- ness, that other should repay honour, making, requital according to his power ; because Friendship requires what is possible, not what is strictly due, this. being not possible in all cases, as in the honours paid to the gods and to parents : no man aould CHAP. xiu. ETHICS. 305 ever make the due return in these cases, and so he is thought to be a , good man who pays respect according to his abihty. For this reason it may be judged never to be allowable for a son to disown his father, whereas a father may his son : because he that owes is bound to pay ; now a son can never, by any thing he has done, fiilly requite the benefits first conferred on him by his father, and so is always a debtor. But they to whom any thing is owed may cast off their debtors : therefore the father may his son. But at the same time it must perhaps^ be admitted, that it seems no father ever would sever himself utterly from a son, except in a case of exceeding depravity : because, independently of the natural Friendship, it is like human nature not to put away from one's self the assistance which a son might render. But to the son, if depraved, assisting his father is a thing to be avoided, or at least one which he will not be very anxious to do ; most men being wiEing enough to receive kindness, but averse to doing it, as unprofitable. Let thus much suffice on these points. BOOK IX. CHAPTER I. Cases of complaint in Friendsliips between parties dissimilar. Who hiaa the right of fixing the rale of the return to he made. Well, in all the Friendships the parties to which are dissimilar, it is the proportionate 'vvhich equal- izes arid preserves the Friendship, as has been already stated : I ihean, for instance, in the Social Friendship, the cobbler gets an equivalent for his shoes after a certain rate, and the weaver, arid all others iri like manner. Now in this ceise a common measure has been provided in money> and to this accordingly all things are referred, arid by this ^re measured : but in the Friendship of Love, the com- plaint is sometimes from the lover that, though he loves exceedingly, his love is not requited; he having perhaps all the time nothing that can be the object of Friendship : again, oftentimes from the object of love, that he who as a suitor pro- mised any and every thing, now performs nothing. These cases occur, because the Friendship of the lover for the beloved object is based upon pleasure, that of the other for him upon utility, and in one of the parties the requisite quality is not found : CHAP. I. ARISTOTLE'S ETHICS. 307 for as these are respectively the pounds of the Friendship, the Friendship comes to be broker^ up, because the motives to it cease to exist : the parties loved not one another, but qualities in one another ; which are not permanent, and so neither are the Friendships : whereas the Friendship based upon the moral character of the parties, being inder pendent and disinterested, is permanent, as we have already stated before. Quarrels arise also, when the parties realize dif- ferent results, and not those which they desire ; for the not attaining one's special object is all one, in this case, with getting nothing at all : as in the well-known case where a man made promises to a musician, rising in proportion to the excellence of his music ; but when, the next morning, the miisician claimed the performance of his promises, he said that he had given him pleasure for pleasure : of course, if each party had intended this, it would have been all right : but if the one desired amuse- ment, and the other gain, and the one gets his object, but the other not, the deahng cannot be fe.ir : Jbecause a man fixes his mind upon what he feappens to want, and will ^ve so and so for that Specific thing. The question then arises, who is to fix the rate ? the man who first gives, or the man who first takes ? because, primd facie, the man who first ^ves seems to leave the rate to be fixed by' the other party. This, they say, was in fact the practice of Protagoras; when he taught a man any thing, he would bid the learner estimate the #oi*h of tfep knowfledge gained, by his own prisoate <)pinion ; aaad them he used to take so much from x2 308 ARISTOTLE'S book ix. him. In such cases some people adopt the rule, " With specified reward a friend should be content." They are certainly fairly found fault with who take the money in advance, and then do nothing of what they said they would do, their promises having been so far beyond their ability ; for such men do not execute what they agreed. The Sophists, however, are perhaps obliged to take this course, because no one would give a sixpence for their knowledge. These then, I say, are fairly found fault with, because they do not what they have already taken money for doing. In cases where no stipulation as to the respective services is made, they who disinterestedly do the first service will not raise the question, (as we have said before,) because it is the nature of Friendship, based on mutual goodness, to be free from such quarrels : the requital is to be made with reference to the intention of the other, the intention being characteristic of the true friend, and of goodness. And it would seem the same rule should be laid down for those who are connected with one another, as teachers and learners of philosophy; for here the value of the commodity cannot be measured by money, and, in fact, an exactly equi-r valent price cannot be set upon it, but perhaps it is sufficient to do what one can, as in the case of the gods, or one's parents. But where the original giving is not upon these terms, but avowedly for some return, the most proper course is perhaps for the requital to be such as both shall allow to be proportionate ; and CHAP. II. ETHICS. 309 where this cannot be, then for the receiver to fix the value would seem to be not only necessary, but also fair : because when the first giver gets that which is equivalent to the advantage received ■ by the other, or to what he would have given to secure the pleasure he has had, then he has the value firom him : for not only is this seen to be the course adopted in matters of buying and selling, but also in some places the law does not allow of actions upon voluntary dealings ; on the principle that when one man has trusted another, he. must be content to have the obUgation discharged in the same spirit as he originally contracted it : that is to say, it is thought fairer for the trusted, than for the trusting, party, to fix the value. For, in general, those who have and those who wish to get things, do not set the same value on them : what is their own, and what they give in each case, appears to them worth a great deal : but yet the return is made according to the estimate of those who have received first ; it should perhaps be added, that the receiver should estimate what he has received, not by the value he sets upon it now that he has it, but by that which he set upon it before he obtained it CHAP. II. Gages of comparative obligations put, and partially solved. Questions also arise upon such points as the following : Whether one's father has an unlimited claim on one's services and obedience, or whether 310 ARISTOTLE'S book ix. the sick man is to obey his physician ? or, in an election of a geiieral, the warlike qualities of the candidates should be alone regarded ? In like manner, whether one should do a service rather to one's friend, or to a gctod man ? whether one should rather requite a benefactor, or give to one's companion, supposing that both are not within one's power ? Is not the true answer, that it is no easy task to determine all such questions accurately, inasmuch as they involve numerous differences of all kinds, in respect of amount, and what is honourable, and what is necessary ? It is obvious, of course, that no one persott can unite in himself aU claiftis. Again, the requital of benefits is, in general, a higher duty than doing unsolicited kindnesses to one's conipanion ; in other, words, the discharging of a debt is more obligatory upon one, than the duty of giving to a companion. And yet this rule may admit of exceptions ; for instance, which is the higher duty ? for one who has been ransomed out of the hands of robbers, to ransom in return his ransomer, be he who he may, or to repay him on his demand, though he has not been taken ty robbers, or to ransom his own father ? for it would seem, that a man ought to ransom his father, "even in preference to himself. Well then, as has been said already, as a general rule the debt should be discharged, but if in a par- ticular case the giving gr^itly preponderates, as being either honourable or necessary, we must be swayed by these considerations : I mean, in 'Some cases the requital of the obligation previously Jex- isting may not he equal ; suppose, for instanoe. CHAP. II. ETHICS. 311 that the original benefactor has conferred a kind- ness on a good man, knowing him to be such, whereas this said good man has to repay it, be- lieving him to be a scoundrel. And again, in certain cases no obligation lies qn a man to lend to one who has lent to hini; suppose, for instance, th^-t a bad man lent to him, as being a good man, under the notion that he should get repaid, whereas the said good man has no hope of repayment from him, being a biad man. Either then the case is really as we have supposed it, and then the claim is not equal, or it is not so, though supposed to be ; ^nd still in so acting, people are not to be thought to act yv^rongly. In short, as has been oftenjtimeg stated before, all .statements regarding feelings and actions can be ^definite only in proportion as their object-matter is so ; it is of course quite obvious, liiat all people h^ve not the same claim upon one ; nor are the claims of one's father unlimited ; just as Jupiter idoes not claim all kinds of sacrifice without dis- tinction : and since the claims of parents, brothers, companions, and benefactors, are all different, we must giv:e to each what belongs to and befits each. And this is seen to be the course commonly pursued : to marriages, men commonly invite their relatives, because these are from a common stock, and therefore all the ;actions in any way pertaining Jthieyeto are conimon also : and to fianerals, men think that relatives ought to assemble, in preference to othejr people, fpr the same reason. And it would seem, that in respect pf main- tenance, it is our duty tp assist pjjr parents in preference to all others, as being ^]^ debtprs, and 312 ARISTOTLE'S book ix. because it is more honourable to succour in these respects the authors of our existence, than our- selves. Honour likewise we ought to pay to our parents just as to the Gods, but then, not all kinds of honotir : not the same, for instance, to a father as to a mother: nor again, to a father the honour due to a scientific man or to a general, but that which is a father's due, and in like manner to a mother, that which is a mother's. To all our elders also, the honour befitting their age, by rising up in their presence, turning out of the way for thern^, and all similar marks of respect : to our companions again, or brothers, fi-ankness and fi-ee participation in all we have. And to those of the same family, or tribe, or city, with ourselves, and aU similarly connected with us, we should constantly try to render their due, and to discriminate what belongs to each in respect of nearness of connection, or goodness, or intimacy : of course, in the case of those of the same class, the discrimination is easier; in that of those who are in different classes, it is a matter of more trouble. This, however, should not be a reason for giving up the attempt, but we must observe the distinc- tions so far as it is practicable to do so. CHAP. III. What circumstances cause the breaking up of Friendships, allowably or otherwise — Cases put. A QUESTION is also raised, as to the propriety of dissolving or not dissolving those Friendships, the parties to which do not remain what they were, when the connection was formed. OHAP. III. ETHICS. 313 Now surely, in respect of those whose motive to Friendship is utiUty or pleasure, there can be nothing wrong in breaking up the connection, when they no longer have those qualities: because they were friends, [not of one another, but] of those qualities: and these having failed, it is only reason- able to expect, that they should cease to entertain the sentiment. But a man has reason to find fault, if the other party, being really attached to him because of advantage or pleasure, pretended to be so because of his moral character : in fact, as we said at the commencement, the most common source of quar- rels between friends is their not being friends on the same grounds, as they suppose themselves to be. Now when a man has been deceived, and has supposed himself to excite the sentiment of Friend- ship, by reason of his moral character, the other party doing nothing to indicate this, he has but himself to blame : but when he has been deceived by the pretence of the other, he has a right to find fault with the man who has so deceived him, aye even more than with utterers of false coin, in pro- portion to the greater preciousness of that which is the object-matter of the villainy. But suppose a man takes up another as being a good man, who turns out, and is found by him, to be a scoundrel, is he bound still to entertain Friendship for him ? or may we not say at once it is impossible, since it is not every thing which is the object-matter of Friendship, but only that which is 'good; and so there is no obligation to be a bad man's friend, nor, in fact, ought one to be 314 ARISTOTLE'S ppok «. such : for one ought not to be a lover of evil, nor to be assimilated to what is base ; which would be jreiplied, because we have said before, hke is friendly to like. Are we then to break with him instantly? or not in all cases ; only where our friends are in- CUiiably depraved; when there is a chance of amendment, we are abound to aid in repairing the moral character of our friends, even more than their substance, in proportion as it is better and more closely related to Friendship. Still he who should break off the connection is not to be judged to act wrongly, for he never was a friend to such a character as the other now is, and therefore since the man is changed, and he cannot reduce him to his original state, he backs out of the connection. To put another case : suppose that one party remains what he was when the Friendship was formed, while the other becomes morally improved, and widely different from his friejid in goodness ; is the improved character to treat the other as a friend ? May we not say it is impossible. The case of course is clearest where there is a great difference, as in the Friendships of boys: for suppose that of two boyish friends, the one still continues a boy in jnind, and the pfher becomes a man of the highest character, how can they be friends? since they neither are pleased with the same objects, nor Hke and dislike the same things : for these points will not belong to them as regards ope another, and without them it was assumed they cannot be friends, because they cannot live in intimacy : and .of the case of those who cannot 4o so, we have ^oken befpyjs. eHAP. IT. ETHICS. 315 Well then, is the improved party to bear himself towards his former friend in no way diiferently to what he would have done had the connection never existed ? Surely he ought to bear in mind the intimacy of past times, and just as we think ourselves bound to do favours for our friends in preference to strangers, so to those who have been friends and are so no longer, we should allow somewhat on the score of previous Friendship, whenever the cause of severance is not excessive depravity on their part. CHAP. IV. The feelings of true Friendship are transferred 6om Self to others. The different feelings of the good and bad men respectiYely towards Self, described. Now the friendly feelings which are exhihilted towards our friends, and by which Friendships are characterized, seem to have sprung out of those which we entertain towards ourselves. I mean, people define a friend to be " one who intends and does what is good (or what he believes to be good) to another for that other's safce ;" or " one who wishes his friend to be and to live for that friend's own sake," (which is the feehng of mothers towards their children, and of friends who have come into coUision.) Others again, " one who lives with another ;and chooses the same Hob- JBcts," or " one whospnpatMses with his friend in. 316 ARISTOTLE'S book ix. his sorrows and in his joys ;" (this too is especially the case with mothers.) Well, by some one of these marks people gene- rally characterize Friendship : and each of these the good man has towards himself, and all others have them in so far as they suppose themselves to be good. (For, as has been said before, good- ness, that is, the good man, seems to be a measure to every one else.) For he is at unity in himself, and with every part of his soul he desires the same objects ; and he wishes f@r himself both what is, and what he beUeves to be, good ; and he does it ; (it being characteristic of the good man to work at what is good;) and for the sake of himself, inasmuch as he does it for the sake of his Intellectual Principle, which is generally thoiight to be a man's Self. Again, he wishes himself, and specially this Prin- ciple whereby he is an intelligent being, to live and be preserved in hfe, because existence is a good to him that is a good man. But it is to himself that each individual wishes what is good, and no man, conceiving the possibility of his becoming other than he now is, chooses that that New Self should have all things indiscrimi- nately : a god, for instance, has at the present moment the Chief Good, but he has it in right of being whatever he actually now is : and the Intel- ligent Principle must be judged to be each man's Self, or at least eminently so, [though other Prin- ciples help, of course, to constitute him the man he is.J Ftirthermore, the good man wishes to continue to live with himself; for he can do it with pleasure. CHAP. IV. ETHICS. 317 in that his memories of past actions are full of dehght, and his anticipations of the future are good, and such are pleasurable. Then, again, he has good store of matter for his Intellect to con- template,, and he most especially sympathizes with his Self in its griefs and joys, because the objects which give him pain and pleasure are at all times the same, and not one thing to-day, and a different one to-morrow : because he is not given to re- pentance*, if one may so speak. It is then because each of these feelings are entertained by the good man towards his own Self, and a friend feels towards a friend as towards himself, (a friend being in fact another Self,) that Friendship is thought to be some one of these things, and they are accounted friends in whom they are found. Whether or no there can really be Friendship between a man and his Self, is a question we will not at present entertain : there may be thought to be Friendships in so far as there are two or more of the afore- said requisites, and because the highest degree of Friendship, in the usual acceptation of that term^ resembles the feeling entertained by a man towards himself. But it may be urged, that the aforesaid requisites are to all appearance found in the common run of men, though they are men of a low stamp. May it not be answered, that they share in them pnly in so far as they please themselves, and con- ' " Neither the son of man, that He should repent." Numbers xxiii. 19. " In a few instances the Second Intention, or Philosophical employment of a Term, is more extensive than the First Intention, or popular use." Whately, Logic,, iii. 10. 318 ARISTOTLE'S book ix. ceive themselves to be good? for certainly, they are not either really, or even apparently, found in any one of those who are in the lowest degree depraved and villainous ; we may almost say, not even in those who are bad men at all : for they are at variance with themselves, and lust after different things from those which in cool reason they wish for, just as men who fail of Self-Control : I mean, they choose things which, though hurtful, are plesfsurable, in preference to those which in then- own minds they believe to be good : others again, from cowardice and indolence, decline to do what Still they are convinced is best for them : while they who from their depravity have actually done many dreadful actions, hate and avoid life, and accordingly kill themselves : and the wicked seek others in whose company to spend their time, but fly from themselves, because they have many unpleasant subjects of memory, and can only look forward to others like them when in solitude, but drown their remorse in the company of others : and as they have nothing to raise the sentiment of Friendship, so they never feel it towards them-' selves. Neither, in fact, can they who are of this t/haracter Sy*ffl.pathise with their Selves in their joys and sorrows ; because their soul is, as it were, rent by fection, and the one principle, by reason of the depravity in them, is grieved at abstaining from certain things, while the other and better principle is pleased thereat; and the one drags them this way, and the other that way, as though actually tearing them asunder*. And though it is im- ^ " I have sometimes considered in what troublesottie case is GHAB. V. ETHICS. 31& possible slcto^lly to have at the same titne the «ensatioiiS of pain aftd pleasure; yet after a little time, the man ii$ sorry for haviftg been pleased, and he could wish that those objects had not given him pleasure; for the wicked are Ml of repentance. It is plain then, that the wicked man cannot be in tht position of a friend even towards himself, because he has in himself nothing which can excite the sentiriieftt of Friendship. If then to be thus is exceedingly wiretched, it is a ma.li's duty to flee from wickedness with all his might, and to strive to be goods, because thus may he be friends with himself, and ftlay come to be a friend to another. CHAP. V. Of Kindly Peeliiig. Kindly f^eehng, though resembling Friendship, is rtot identical with it, because it may exist in that Chamberlain in an Inn, who being but one, is to give attend- ance to many guests. For suppose them all in one chatJibet; yet, if one shall command him to come to the window, and the other to the table, and another to the bed, and another to the chimney, and another to come up stairs, and another to go down stairs, and all' in the same instant, how would he be distracted to please them all ? Atid yht suth is the sad condition of my soul fcy iiature ; iiot oiily a '^rv&nt, hnt a fe-lavte uftto sin. Pride tails me to the windo*> gkttony to the table, wantonness to the bed, laziness to the chimney, ambition commands me to go up stairs, and eovetous- ness to come down. Vices, I see, axe as well contrary to them- selves as to Virtue. (Puller's Good thoughts in Bad times. Mik't CicfiWeMifiiatibhS, viii.) 320 ARISTOTLE'S book ix. reference to those whom we do not know, and without the object of it being aware of its ex- istence, which Friendship cannot. (This, by the way, has also been said before.) And further, it is not even Affection, because it does not imply in- tensity nor yearning, which are both consequences of Affection. Again, Affection requires intimacy, but Kindly Feeling may arise quite suddenly, as happens sometimes in respect of men against whom people are matched in any way, I mean, they come to be kindly disposed to them, and sym- pathise in their wishes, but still they would not join them in any action, because, as we said, they conceive this feeling of kindness suddenly, and so have but a superficial liking. What it does seem to be is, the starting point of a Friendship ; just as pleasure, received through the sight, is the commencement of Love: for no one falls in love, without being first pleased with the personal appearance of the beloved object ; and yet he who takes pleasure in it does not therefore necessarily love, but when he wearies for the object in its absence, and desires its presence. Exactly in the same way, men cannot be friends without having passed through the stage of Kindly Feeling, and yet they who are in that stage do not neces- sarily advance to Friendship : they merely have an inert wish for the good of those toward whom they entertain the feeling, but would not join them in any action, nor put themselves out of the way for them. So that, in a metaphorical way of speaking, one might say that it is dormant Friendship, and when it has endured for a space, and ripened into intimacy, comes to be real Friendship ; but not that CHAP. VI. ETHICS. 321 whose object is advantage or pleasure, because such motives cannot produce even Kindly Feeling. I mean, he who has received a kindness requites it by Kindly Feeling towards his benefactor, and is right in so doing: but he who wishes another to be prosperous, because he has hope of advantage through his instrumentality, does not seem to be kindly disposed to that person, but rather to him- self; just as neither is he his friend if he pays court to him for any interested purpose- Kindly Feeling always arises by reason of good- ness and a certain amiability, when one man gives another the notion of being a fine fellow, or brave man, &c, as we said was the case sometimes with those matched against one another. CHAP. VI. Of Unity of Sentiment. Unity of Sentiment is also plainly connected with Friendship, and therefore is not the same as Unity of Opinion, because this might exist even between people unacquainted with one another. Nor do men usually say people are united in sentiment, merely because they agree in opinion on any point, as, for instance, on points of astro- nomical science, (Unity of Sentiment herein not having any connection with Friendship,) but they say that Communities have Unity of Sentiment, when they agree respecting points of expediency, and take the same line, and carry out what has been determined in common consultation. 322 ARISTOTLE'S book ix. Thus we see that Unity of Sentiment has for its object matters of action, and such of these as are of importance, and of mutual, or, in the case of single States, common, interest : when, for instance, all agree in the choice of magistrates, or forming alliance with the Lacedaemonians, or appointing Pittacus ruler, (that is to say, supposing he himself was willing.) But when each wishes himself to be in power, (as the brothers in the Phoenissae,) they quarrel and form parties: for, plainly. Unity of Sentiment does not merely imply that each enter- tains the same idea be it what it may, but that they do so in -respect of the same object, as when both the populace and the sensible men of a State desire that the best men should be in office, because then all attain their object. Thus Unity of Sentiment is plainly a social Friendship, as it is also said to be : since it has for its object-matter things expedient and relating to life. And this Unity exists among the good : for they have it towards themselves, and towards one another, being, if I may be allowed the expression, in the same position : I mean, the wishes of such men are steady, and do not ebb and flow hke the Euripus, and they wish what is just and expedient, and aim at these things in common. The bad, on the contrary, can as little have Unity of Sentiment as they can be real friends, except to a very slight extent, desiring as they do unfair advantage in things profitable, while they shirk laboiu and service for the common good: and while each man wishes for these things for himself, he is jealous of and hinders his neighboxxr: and as CHAP. vit. ETHICS. 323 they do not watch over the common good, it is lost. The result is, that they quarrel, while they are for keeping one another to work, but are not willing to perform their just share. CHAP. VII. The difference of feeling in Benefactors, and in the objects of their kindnesses, stated and accounted for. Benefactors are commonly held to have more Friendship for the objects of their kindness, than these for them : and the fact is made a subject of discussion and enquiry, as being contrary to reason- able expectation. The account of the matter which satisfies most persons is, that the one are debtors, and the others creditors : and therefore that, as in the case of actual loans, the debtors wish their creditors out of the way, while the creditors are anxious for the preservation of their debtors, so those who have done kindnesses, desire the continued existence of the people they have done them to, under the notion of getting a return of their good offices, while these are not particularly anxious about requital, Epicharmus, I suspect, would very probably say, that they who give this solution, judge from their own baseness ; yet it certainly is like human nature, for the generahty of men have short memories on these points, and aim rather at receiving, than con- ferring benefits. y2 324 ARISTOTLE'S book ix. ' But the real cause, it would seem, rests upon nature, and the case is not parallel to that of creditors ; because in this there is no affection to the persons, but merely a wish for their pre- servation, with a view to a return: whereas, in point of fact, they who have done kindnesses, feel friendship and love for those to whom they have done them, even though they neither are, nor can by possibihty hereafter be, in a position to serve their benefactors. And this is the case also with artizans; every one, I mean, feels more affection for his own work, than that work possibly could for him, if it were animate. It is perhaps specially the case with poets : for these entertain very great affection for their poems, loving them as their own children. It is to this kind of thing I should be incHned to compare the case of benefactors : for the object of their kindness is their own work, and so they love this more than this does its creator. And the account of this is, that existence is to all a thing choice-worthy, and an object of affection ; now we exist by acts of working, that is, by living and acting : he then that has created a given work exists, it may be said, by his act of working : therefore he loves his work, because he loves existence. And this is natural, for the work produced displays in act what existed before po- tentially. Then again, the benefactor has a sense of honour in right of his action, so that he may well take pleasure in him in whom this resides ; but to him who has received the benefit, there is nothing honourable in respect of his benefactor, only some- CHAP. vii. ETHICS. 325 thing advantageous^ which is both less pleasant, and less the object of Friendship. Again, pleasure is derived from the actual working out of a present action, from the anticipation of a fiiture one, and from the recollection of a past one : but the highest pleasure and special object of affection is that which attends on the actual work- ing. Now the benefactor's work abides, (for the honourable is enduring,) but the advantage of him who has received the kindness passes away. Again, there is pleasiu-e in recollecting honourable actions, but in recollecting advantageous ones, there is none at all, or much less ; (by the way though, the contrary is true of the expectation of advantage.) Further, the entertaining the feeling of Friend- ship is Uke an act of creation ; but being the object of the feeling, is like being acted upon. So then, entertaining the sentiment of Friendship, and all feelings connected with it, attend on those who, in the given case of a benefaction, are the superior party. Once more : all people value most what has cost them much labour in the production ; for instance, people who have themselves made their money, are fonder of it than those who have inherited it : and receiving kindness, is, it seems, unlaborious, but doing it is laborious. And this is the reason why the female parents are most fond of their offspring j for their part in producing them is attended with most labour, and they know more certainly that they are theirs. This feeling would seem also to belong to benefactors. 326 . ARISTOTLE'S book ix. CHAP. VIII. Of Self Love, A QUESTION is. also raised as to whether it is right to love one's Self best, or some one else : because men find fault with those who love them- selves best, and call them in a disparaging way lovers of Self ; and the bad man. is thought to do every thing he does for his own sake merely, and the more so the more depraved he is ; accordingly^ men reproach him with never doing any thing unselfish : whereas the good man acts from a sense of honour, (and the more so the better man he is,) and for his friend's sake, and is careless of his own interest. But with these theories facts are at variance, and not unnaturally : for it is commonly said also that a man is to love most him who is most his friend, and he is most a friend who wishes good to him to whom he wishes it for that man's sake, even though no one knows. Now these conditions, and in fact all the rest by which a friend is characterized, belong specially to each individual in respect of his Self: for we have said before that all the friendly feehngs are derived to others from those which have Self primarily for their object. And all the current proverbs support this view ; for instance, ^' one soul," " the goods of friends are common," " equality is a tie of Friendship," " the knee is nearer than the shin." For all these things exist specially with reference to a man's own Self : CHAP. VIII. ETHICS. 327 he is specially a fiiend to himself, and so he is bound to love himself the most. It is with good reason questioned, which of the two parties one should follow, both having plausi- bility on their side. Perhaps then, in respect of theories of this kind, the proper course is to dis- tinguish and define how far each is, true, and in what way. If we could ascertain the sense in which each uses the term " Self loving," this point might be cleared up. Well now, they who use it disparagingly give the name to those who, in respect of wealthy and honours, and pleasures of the body, give to them- selves the larger share : because the mass of man- kind grasp after these, and are earnest about them as being the best things ; which is the reason why they are matters of contention. They who are covetous in regard to these, gratify their lusts and passions in general, that is to say, the irrational part of their soul : but the mass of mankind are covetous, for which reason the appeEation has taken its rise from that mass which is low and bad. Of course they are justly reproached who are Self- loving in this sense. And that the generahty of men are accustomed to apply the term to denominate those who do give such things to themselves, is quite plain : suppose, for instance, that a man were anxious to do, more than other men, acts of justice, or self-mastery, or any other virtuous acts, and, in general, were to secure to himself that which is abstractedly noble and honourable, no one would call him Self-loving, nor blame him. Yet might such an one be judged to be more 328 ARISTOTLE'S book ix. truly Self-loving : certainly he gives to himself the things which are most noble and most good, and gratifies that Principle of his natm-e which is most rightfully authoritative, and obeys it in every thing : and just as that which possesses the highest autho- rity is thought to constitute a Community or any other system, so also in the case of a man : and so he is most truly Self-loving who loves and gratifies this Principle, Again, men are said to have, or to fail of having, self-control, according as the pure Intellect con- trols or not, it being plainly impHed thereby, that this Principle constitutes each individual ; and people are thought to have done of themselves, and voluntarily, those things specially which are done with Reason. It is plain, therefore, that this Principle does, either entirely or specially, constitute the individual man, and that the good man specially loves this. For this reason then he must be specially Self- loving, in a kind other than that which is re- proached, and as far superior to it, as living in accordance with Reason is to living at the beck and call of passion, and aiming at the truly noble to aiming at apparent advantage. Now all approve and commend those who are eminently earnest about honourable actions, aiid if all would vie with one another in respect of the KaXou, and be intent upon doing what is most truly noble and honourable, society at large would have all that is proper, while each individual in parti- cular would have the greatest of goods. Virtue being assumed to be such. And so the good man ought to be Self-loving : CHAP. VIII. ETHICS. 329 because by doing what is noble he will have ad- vantage himself, and will do good to others : but the bad man ought not to be, because he will harm himself and his neighbours by following low and evil passions. In the case of the bad man, what he ought to do and what he does are at variance, but the good man does what he ought to do, because all Intellect chooses what is best for itself, and the good man puts himself under the direction of Intellect. Of the good man it is true likewise, that he does many things for the sake of his friends and his country, even to the extent of dying for them, if need be : for money and honours, and, in short, all the good things which others fight for, he will throw away, while eager to secure to himself the KuXov : he wiU prefer a brief and great joy to a tame and enduring one, and to live nobly for one year, than ordinarily for many, and one great and noble action to many trifling ones. And this is perhaps that which befals men who die for their country and friends : they choose great glory for themselves ; and they will lavish their own money, that their friends may receive more, for hereby the friend gets the money, but the man himself the KuXov ; so, in fact, he gives to himself the greater good. It is the same with honours and offices; all these things he will give up to his friend, because this reflects honour and praise on himself : and so with good reason is he esteemed a fine character, since he chooses the honom:able before all things else. It is possible also to give up the opportunities of action to a friend; and to have 330 ARISTOTLE'S book ix. caused a friend's doing a thing may be more noble than having done it one's self. In short/ in all praiseworthy things the good man does plainly give to himself a larger share of the honourable. In this sense it is right to be Self-loving, in the vulgar acceptation of the term it is not. CHAP. IX. Whether the Happy man will need Friends? A QUESTION is raised also respecting the Happy man, whether he will want Friends, or no ? Some say, that they who are blessed and inde- pendent have no need of Friends, for they already have all that is good, and so, as being independent, want nothing further ; whereas the notion of a friend's office is to be as it were a second Self, and procure for a man what he cannot get by himself : hence the saying, " When Fortune gives us good, what need we Friends ?" On the other hand, it looks absurd, while we are assigning to the Happy man all other good things, not to give him Friends, which are, after all, thought to be the greatest of external goods. Again, if it is more characteristic of a friend to confer, than to receive, kindnesses, and if to be beneficent belongs to the good man and to the character of virtue, and if it is more noble to confer kindnesses on friends than strangers, the good man CHAP. IX. ETHICS. 331 will need objects for his benefactions. And out of this last consideration springs a question, whether the need of Friends be greater in prosperity or adversity, since the unfortunate man wants people to do him kindnesses, and they who are fortunate want objects for their kind acts. Again, it is perhaps absurd to make our Happy man a solitary, because no man would choose the possession of all goods in the world on the con- dition of solitariness, man being a social animal, and formed by nature for living with others : of course, the Happy man has this quahfication, since he has all those things which are good by nature : and it is obvious, that the society of friends and good men must be preferable to that of strangers and ordinary people, and we conclude, therefore, that the Happy man does need Friends, But then, what do they mean whom we quoted first, and how are they right ? Is it not that the mass of mankind mean by Friends those who are useful ? and of course the Happy man will not need such, because he has all good things already ; neither will he need such as are Friends with a view to the pleasurable, or at least only to a slight extent ; because his life, being already pleasurable, does not want pleasure imported from without: and so, since the Happy man does not need Friends of these kinds, he is thought not to need any at all. But it may be, this is not true : for it was stated originally, that Happiness is a kind of Working ; now Working plainly is something that must come into being, not be already there hke a mere piece of property. 332 ARISTOTLE'S book ix. If then the being happy consists in Hving and working, and the good man's working is in itself excellent and pleasurable, (as we said at the com- mencement of the treatise,) and if what is our own reckons among things pleasurable, and if we can view our neighbours better than ourselves, and their actions better than we can our own, then the actions of their Friends, who are good men, are pleasurable to the good; inasmuch as they have both the requisites which are naturally pleasant. So the man in the highest state of happiness will need Friends of this kind, since he desires to con- template good actions, and actions of his own,, which those of his friend, being a good man, are. Again, common opinion requires that the Happy man live with pleasure to himself: now^ life is burthensome to( a man in soUtude, for it is not easy to work continuously by one's self, but in com- pany with, and in regard to others, it is easy, and therefore the working, being pleasurable in itself, will be more continuous ; (a thing which should be in respect of the Happy man ;) for the good man,, in that he is good, takes pleasure in the actions which accord with Virtue, and is annoyed at those which spring from Vice, just as a musical man is pleased with beautiful melodies, and annoyed by bad ones. And besides, as Theognis says. Virtue itself may be improved by practice, from living with the good. And, upon the following considerations more purely metaphysical, it will probably appear that the good friend is naturally choice-worthy to the good man. We have said before, that what- ever is naturally good, is also in itself good and' ) I I CHAP. IX. ETHICS. 333 pleasant to the good man ; now the fact of Hving, so far as animals are concerned, is characterized generally by the power of sentience, in man it is characterized by that of sentience, or of rationality, (the faculty of course being referred to the actual operation of the faculty, certainly the main point is the actual operation of it;) so that living seems mainly to consist in the act of sentience, or exert- ing rationality: now the fact of living is in itself one of the things that are good and pleasant, (for it is a definite totality, and whatever is such belongs to the nature of good,) but what is naturally good is good to the good man : for which reason it seems to be good to all. (Of course one must not take life which is depraved and corrupted, nor one spent in pain, for that which is* such is indefinite, as are its inherent quahties : however, what is to be said of pain, will be clearer in what is to follow.) If then the fact of being is in itself good and pleasant, (and this appears from the fact that all desire it, and specially those who are good and in high happiness; their course of life being most choice-worthy, and their existence most choice- worthy Hkewise ;) then also, he that sees, perceives that he sees : and he that hears, perceives that he hears ; and in all the other instances in Hke manner there is a faculty which reflects upon and perceives the fact that we are working, so that we can per- ceive that we perceive, and intellectually know that we intellectually know: but to perceive that we perceive, or that we intellectually know is to perceive that yye exist, since existence was defined to be per- ceiving, or intellectually knowing. Now to per- ceive that one lives is a thing pleasant in itself, life 334 ARISTOTLE'S BOOK IX. being a thing naturally good, and the perceiving of th^ presence in ourselves of things naturally good, being^pkasant. Thererare, the fact of living is choice-worthy, and to the good specially so, since existence is good and pleasant to them: for they receive pleasure from the internal consciousness of that which in itself is good. But the good man is to his friend as to himself, friend being but a name for a second Self; there- fore as his own existence is choice-worthy to each, so too or similarly at least, is his friend's existence. But the ground of one's own existence being choice- worthy, is the perceiving of one's self being good, any such perception being in itself pleasant. There- fore one ought to be thoroughly conscious of one's friend's existence, which will result from hving with him, that is, sharing in his words and thoughts: for this is the meaning of the term as applied to the human species, not mere feeding together, as in the case of brutes. If then to the man in a high state of happiness existence is in itself choice-worthy,- being naturally good and pleasant, and so too of a friend's exist- ence, then the friend also must be among things choice-worthy. But whatever is choice-worthy to a man he should have, or else he will be in this point deficient. The man therefore who is to come up to our notion of " Happy" -will need good Friends. CHAP. X. ETHICS. 335 CHAP. X. Of the numlDer of friends which it is possible and desirahle to have. Are we then to make our friends as numerous as possible ? or, as in respect of acquaintance it is thought to have been well said, " have not thou many acquaintances, yet be not without;" so too in respect of Friendship may we adopt the precept, and say, that a man should not be without friends, nor again have exceeding many friends ? Now as for friends who are intended for use, the maxim I have quoted will, it seems, fit in exceedingly well, because to requite the services Of many is a matter of labour, and a whole life, would not be long enough to do this for them. So that, if more numerous than what will suffice for one's own Hfe, they become officious, and are hindrances in re- spect of hving well : and so we do not want them. And again, of those who are to- be for pleasure, a few are quite enough, just like sweetening in our food. But of the good, are we to make as many as ever we can, or is there any measure of the number of friends, as there is of the number to constitute a Political Community ? I mean, you cannot make one out of ten men, nor if you increase the number to one hundred thousand, is it any longer a Community. However, the number is not per- haps some one definite number, but any between certain extreme limits. Well, of friends likewise there is^ a hmited number, which perhaps may be laid down to be. 336 ARISTOTLE'S BOOK IX. the greatest number with whom it would be pos- sible to keep up intimacy ; this being thought to be one of the greatest marks of Friendship, and it being quite obvious that it is not possible to be , intimate with many, in other words, to part one's self among many. And besides it must be remem- bered, that they also are to be friends to one another, if they are all to Uve together : but it is a matter of difficulty to find this in many men at once. It comes likewise to be difficult to bring home to one's self the joys and sorrows of many : because in all probability one would have to sympathise at the same *time with the joys of this one, and the sorrows of that other. Perhaps then it is well not to endeavour to have very many friends, but so many as are enough for intimacy : because, in fact, it would seem not to be possible to be very much a friend to many at the same time : and for the same reason, not to be in love with many objects at the same time : love being a kind of excessive Friendship, which implies but one object : and all strong emotions must be limited in the number towards whom they are felt. And if we look to facts, this seems to be so : for not many at a time become friends in the way of companionship, all the famous Friendships of the kind are between two persons : whereas they who have many friends, and meet every body on the footing of intimacy, seem to be friends really to no one, except in the way of general society; I mean, the characters denominated as over-complaisant. To be sure, in the way merely of society, a man may be a friend to many without being necessarily CHAP. XI. ETHICS. 337 over-complaisant, but being truly good: but one cannot be a friend to many, because of their virtue, and for the person's own sake ; in fact, it is a matter for contentment to find even a few such. CHAP. XL In what circumstances of fortune are friends most needed ? Again : are friends most needed in prosperity or in adversity ? they are required, we know, in both states, because the unfortunate need help, and the prosperous want people to live with and to do kindnesses to : for they have a desire to act kindly to some one. To have friends is more necessary in adversity, and therefore in this case usefiil ones are wanted ; and to have them in prosperity is more honourable, and this is why the prosperous want good men for friends,, it being preferable to confer benefits on, and to Uve with, these. For the very presence of fiiends is pleasant even in adversity: since men when grieved are comforted by the sympathy of their friends. And from this, by the way, the question might be raised, whether it is that they do in a manner take part of the weight of calamities, or only that their presence being pleasurable, and the con- jsciousness of their sympathy, make the pain of the sufferer less. However, we will not further discuss whether these which have been suggested or some other 338 ARISTOTLE'S book ix. causes produce the relief, at least the effect we speak of is a matter of plain fact. But their presence has probably a mixed effect : I mean, not only is the very seeing friends plea- sant, especially to one in misfortune, and actual help towards lessening the grief is afforded, (the natural tendency of a friend, if he is gifted with tact, being to comfort by look and word, because he is well acquainted with the sufferer's temper and disposition, and therefore knows • what things give him pleasure and pain,) but also the perceiv- ing a friend to be grieved at his misfortunes causes the sufferer pain, because every one avoids being cause of pain to his friends. And for this reason they who are of a manly nature are cautious not to impHcate their friends in their pain ; and unless a man is exceedingly callous to the pain of others, he cannot bear the pain which is thus caused to his friends; in short, he does not admit men to wail with him, not being given to wail at all : women, it is true, and men who re- semble women, Uke to have others to groan with them, and love such as friends and sympathisers. But it is pl^in that it is our duty in all things to imitate the highest character. On the other hand, the advantages of friends in our prosperity are, the pleasurable intercourse, and the consciousness that they are pleased at our good fortune. It would seem, therefore, that we ought to call in friends readily on occasion of good fortune, because it is noble to be ready to do good to others : but on occasion of bad fortune, we should do so with reluctance ; for we should as httle CHAP. xii. ETHICS. 339 as possible make others share in our ills, on which principle goes the saying, " I am un- fortunate, let that suffice." The most proper occasion for calhng them in is, when with small trouble or annoyance to themselves they can be of very great use to the person who needs them. But, on the contrary, it is fitting perhaps to go to one's friends in their misfortunes, unasked and with alacrity; (because kindness is the friend's ofiice, and specially towards those who are in need, and who do not demand it as a right, this being more creditable and more pleasant to both,) but on occasion of their good fortune to go "readily, if we can forward it in any way, (because men need their friends for this likewise,) but to be backward in sharing it, any great eagerness to receive advantage not being creditable. One should perhaps be cautious not to present the appearance of suUenness in dechning the sympathy or help of friends, for this happens oc- casionally. It appears then, that the presence of friends is, under all circumstances, choice-worthy. CHAP. XII. Intimacy tlie chief abject of Friendship. Its effect on the good and the bad respectively. May we not say then, that as seeing the beloved object is most prized by lovers, and they choose this sense rather than any of the others, because Love " Is engendered in the eyes With gazing fed ■" z2 340 ARISTOTLE'S ETHICS. book ix. in Kke manner intimacy is to friends most choice- worthy. Friendship being communion ? Again, as a man is to himself so is he to his friend ; now with respect to himself, the perception of his own ' existence is choice-worthy, therefore is it also in respect of his friend And besides, their Friendship is acted out in intimacy, and so with good reason they desire this. And whatever in each man's opinion con-- stitutes existence, or whatsoever it is for the sake of which they choose life, herein they. wish their friends to join with them, and so some men drink together, others gamble, others join in gymnastic exercises or hunting, others study philosophy together: in each case spending their days together in that which they like best of all things in life, for since they wish to be intimate with their friends, they do and partake in those things whereby they think to attain this object. Therefore the Friendship of the wicked comes to be depraved ; for being unstable, they share in what is bad, and become depraved in being made like to one another: but the Friendship of the gopd is good, growing with their intercourse ; they improve also, as it seems, by repeated acts, and by mutual correction, for they receive impress from one another in the points which give them pleasure ; whence says the Poet, " Thou from the good, good things shalt surely learn." Here then we will terminate our discourse of Friendship. The next thing is to go into the subject of Pleasure. BOOK X. CHAPTER I. Introductory. Next, it would seem, follows a discussion re-Keasons specting Pleasure, for it i^ thought to be most [aWng the closely bound up with our kind : and so men train ^•^<'"^'''°°- the young, guiding them on their course by the rudders of Pleasure and Pain. And to like and dislike what one ought, is judged to be most im- portant for the formation of good moral character : because these feeUngs extend aU one's life through, giving a bias towards, and exerting an influence on the side of. Virtue and Happiness, since men choose what is pleasant, and avoid what is painfiil. Subjects such as these then, it would seem, we ought by no means to pass by, and specially since they involve much difference of opinion. There Two ex- are those who call Pleasure the Chief Good; there opinions are others, who on the contrary .maintain, that itpi^^ure.^ is exceedingly bad*; some perhaps from a real conviction that such is the case, others from a notion that it is better, in reference to our life ° See note x, page 68. 342 ARISTOTLE'S book x. and conduct, to show up Pleasure as bad, even if it is not so really ; arguing, that as the mass of men have a "bias towards it, and are the slaves of their pleasures, it is right to draw them to the contrary, for that so they may possibly arrive at the mean*. Honesty I coufess, I suspect the soundness of this policy ; policy in in ihattcrs relating to men's feehngs and actions. Moral ,1 . 1 ■ ■ 1 n i teaching, theories are less convmcmg than tacts : whenever, test of ^ therefore, they are found conflicting with actual theories, experience, they not only are despised, but involve the truth in their fall : he, for instance, who de- preciates Pleasure, if once seen to aim at it, gets the credit of backsliding to it, as being universally such as he said it was, the mass of men being incapable of nice distinctions. Real accounts, therefore, of such matters seem to be most expedient, not with a view to knowledge merely, but to life and conduct : for they are be- lieved as being in harmony with facts, and so they prevail with the wise to live in accordance with them. But of such considerations enough : let us now proceed to the current maxims respecting pleasure. CHAP. II. The opinions of Ettdoxus, and others, stated and discussed. Opinion of Now Eudoxus thought Pleasure to be the Chief His First Good, because he saw all, rational and irrational, reason, g^jjjjjjjg ^^ j^ . qj^^ ]jg argued, that since in all what * See Book II. chap. 9. CHAP. II. ETHICS. 343 was the object of choice must be good, and what most so, the best, the fact of all being drawn to the same thing, proved this thing to be the best for all : " For each," he said, " finds what is good for itself, just as it does its proper nourishment, and so that which is good for all, and the object of the, aim of all, is their Chief Good." (And his theories were received, not so much for (Hia per- their own sake, as because of his excellent moral raeter"*" character; for he was thought to be eminently J'^gP^g^) possessed of perfect self-mastery, and therefore it was not thought that he said these things because he was a lover of Pleasure, but that he really was so convinced.) And he thought his position was not less proved Second by the argument from the contrary : that is, since * Pain was in itself an object of avoidance to all, the contrary must be in like manner an object of choice. Again he urged, that tliat is most choice-worthy. Third which we choose, not by reason of, or with a view "*^°"" to, any thing further ; and that Pleasure is con^ fessedly of this kind, because no one ever goes on to ask to what purpose he is pleased, feeling that Pleasure is in itself choice-worthy. Again, that when added to any other good, it Fourth makes it more choice-worthy; as, for instance, to"^ actions of justice, or perfected self-mastery ; and good can only be increased by itself. However, this argument at least seems to prove An ob- only that it belongs to the class of goods, and notit." that it does so more than any thing else: for every good is more choice-worthy in combination with some other, than when taken quite alone. In fact. 344 ARISTOTLE'S book x. it is by just such an argument;, that Plato proves that Pleasure is not the Chief Good' : " For/' says he, " the life of Pleasure is more choice-worthy in combination with Practical Wisdom, than apart from it ; but if the compound be better, then simple Pleasure cannot be the Chief Good ; because the very Chief Good cannot by any addition become more choice-worthy than it is already :" and it is obvious, that nothing else can be the Chief Goodj which, by combination with any of the things in themselves good, comes to be more choice-worthy. What is there then of such a nature ? (meaning* of course, whereof we can partake ; because that which we are in search of must be such.) statement As for those who object, that " what all aim at tkino^f^^'is not necessarily good," I confess I cannot see °^u5o°°g!much in what they say, because what all tUiik we first j-ea- gg^y ^j_ ^jj^ ]jg ^\q would cut away this ground from under us will not bring forward things more dependable : because if the argument had rested on the desires of irrational creatures, there might have been something in what he says, but since the rational also desire. Pleasure, how can his objection be allowed any weight ? and it may be that, even in the lower animals, there is some natural good principle above themselves which aims at the good peculiar to them. to his se- Nor does that seem to be sound which is urged "™^' respecting the argument from the contrary: I mean, some people say, " it does not follow that Pleasure must be good because Pain is evil, since evil may be opposed to evil, and both evil and good to what is indifferent :" now what they say is " See Book I. chap. 6. ad finem. CHAP. II. ETHICS. 345 right enough in itself, but does not hold in the present instance. If both Pleasure and Pain were bad, both would have been objects of avoidance ; or if neither, then neither would have been, at aU events they must have fared ahke : but now men do plainly avoid the one as bad, and choose the other as good, and so there is a complete opposition. Nor again is Pleasure therefore excluded from First Ob- being a good, because it does not belong to th.e^T^^J^°^i° class of qualities^: the acts of Virtue are not^^'^^^ quahties, neither is Happiness, [yet surely both^"«'f«''''y are goods.] Again, they say the Chief Good is limited, but Second ob- Pleasure unlimited, in that it admits of degrees. ^^^ '°°' Now if they judge this from the act of feeling The an- Pleasure, then the same thing wiU apply to justice drawing and all the other Hdrtues^ in respect of which ^^^^3"*^°°" clearly it is said, that men are more or less of suchJ^"**™- and such characters, (according to the different virtues :) for they are more just or more brave, or one may practise justice and self-mastery more or less. If, on the other hand, they judge in respect of the Pleasures themselves, then it may be they miss the true cause, namely, that some are immixed and others mixed: for just as health, being in itself limited, admits of degrees, why should not Pleasure do so, and yet be limited ? in the former '' Tke notion alluded to is that of the ISea ; that there is no real substantial good except the outA Syadov, and therefore whatever is so called, is so named in right of its participation in that. " See note u, on page 208. 346 ARISTOTLE'S book x. case we account for it by the fact, that there is not the same adjustment of parts in all men, nor one and the same always in the same individual : but health, though relaxed, remains up to a certain point, and differs in degrees ; and of course the same may be the case with Pleasure. Third ob- Again, assumiug the Chief Good to be perfect, and all Movements'^ and Generations imperfect, they try to show that Pleasure is a Movement and a Generation. The an- Yet thcv do uot scem warranted in saying even swer by an •' ■» /r examina- that it is a Movement: for to every Movement are «iW«, thought to belong swiftness and slowness, and if not in itself, as to that of the universe, yet relatively: but to Pleasure, neither of these belongs: for though one may have got quickly into the state of Pleasure, as into that of anger, one cannot be in the state quickly^, nor relatively to the state of any other person ; but we can walk or grow, and so on, quickly or slowly. Of course it is possible to change into the state of Pleasure quickly or slowly, but to act in the state (by which, I mean, have the perception of Pleasure) quickly, is not possible. and that And how cau it be a Generation ? because, ac- patticular ' Movement is, according to Aristotle, of six kinds From not being to being .... Generation From being to not being . . From being to being more From being to being less From being here to being there Destruction Increase Diminution Change of Place Categories, chap, xi. From being in this way to being in that . Alteration « A may go to sleep quicker than B, but cannot do more sleep in a given time. CHAP. II. ETHICS. 347 cording to notions generally held) not aw^ thing t-nd called is generated from any thing, but a thing resolves''*'""' itself into that out of which it was generated: whereas of that of which Pleasure is a Generation, Pain is a Destruction. Again, they say that Pain is a lack of something Pleasure is suitable to nature, and Pleasure a supply of it, siy'.afiif/ But these are affections of the body: now ifTOfd"^" * Pleasure really is a supplying of somewhat suitable to nature, that must feel the Pleasure in which the supply takes place, therefore the body of course : yet this is not thought to be so: neither then is Pleasure a supplying, only a person of course will be pleased when a supply takes place, and be pained when he is cut short. This notion would seem to have arisen out of the The notion is a physi- Pams and Pleasures connected with natural nourish- cai one, ment; because, when. people have felt a lack, and so have had Pain first, they, of course, are pleased with the supply of their lack. But this is not the case with all Pleasures : those and wiU attendant on mathematical studies, for instance, true of «« . J .,1 T» • J J? 1 Pleasures. are unconnected with any Pam; and, oi such as attend on the senses, those which arise through the sense of Smell; and ^ain> many sounds, and sights, and memories, and hopes : now of what can these be Generations ? because there has been here no lack of any thing to be afterwards supplied. And, to those who bring forward disgraceful Disgrace- ™ 111 T n foi Plea- Pleasures, we may reply that these are not really sures are pleasant things ; for it does not follow because they such** ^ are pleasant to the ill-disposed, that we are to admit that they are pleasant except to them ; just as we 348 ARISTOTLE'S BOOK X. (Physical should not say that those things are really whole- analogies) o ^ some, or sweet, or bitter, which are so to the sick, or those objects really white which give that impres- sion to people labouring under ophthalmia ^ Or the Or we might say thus, that the Pleasures are choice- choice-worthy, but not as derived from these the Source sources : just as wealth is, but not as the price of treason ; or health, but not on the terms of eating any thing however loathsome, Pieasurea Or again, may we not say that Pleasures differ ferent in kind: those derived from honourable objects^ for instance, are different from those arising from disgraceftd ones ; and it is not possible to experience the Pleasure of the just man without being just, or of the musical man without being musical; and so on of others. lUustration The distinction commonly drawn between the first friend and the flatterer, would seem to show clearly either that Pleasure is not a gbod, or that there are different kinds of Pleasure : for the former is thought to have good as the object of his intercourse, the latter. Pleasure only; and this last is reproached, but the former men praise, as having different ob- jects in his intercourse. Second. Again, no one would choose to live with a child's intellect all his life through, though receiving the highest possible Pleasure from such objects as children receive it from ; or to take Pleasure in doing any of the most disgraceftd things, though sure n|!ver to be pained. There are many things also about which we Third. should be dihgent, even though they brought no '' Compare Book III. chap. 6. aairep ml iwi raV a-a^Tav, K. T. X. CHAP. III. ETHICS. 349 Pleasure ; as seeing, remembering, knowing, possess- ing the various Excellences ; and the fact that Pleasures do follow on these naturally, makes no difference, because we should certainly choose them, even though no Pleasure resulted from them. It seems then to be plain, that Pleasure is not Aristotle's the Chief Good, nor is every kind of it~ choice- m^ntl" ^' worthy : and that there are some choice-worthy in themselves, differing in kind, i. e. in the sources from which they are derived. Let this then suffice by way of an account of the current maxims respect- ing Pleasure and Pain. CHAP. Ill, That Pleasure is a " whole," and so distinguished from any kind of Movement. Now what it is, and how characterized, will be more plain if we take up the subject afresh. An act of Sight is thought to be complete at The term ^ any moment; that is to say, it lacks nothing, iifJrated the accession of which subsequently will complete ^fj^gj"" its whole nature. Well, Pleasure resembles this: because it is a Pleasure is "a whole " whole, as one may say ; and one could not at any ' moment of time take a Pleasure, whose whole nature would be completed by its lasting for a longer time. And for this reason, it is not a but do Movement : for all Movement takes place m time is, as re- of certain duration, and has a certain End to u^" for 350 ARISTOTLE'S book x. pTetion- ^''co'^plish; for instance, the Movement of house- g.f«n;t'o building' is then only complete, when the builder . ' has produced what he intended, that is, either in the whole time [necessary to complete the whole design], or In a given portion''. But all the subordinate Movements are incomplete in the parts of the time, and are different in kind from the whole movement, and from one another : (I mean for instance, that the fitting the stones together is a Movement different from that of fluting the column, and both again from the construction of the Temple as a whole : but this last is complete, as lacking nothing to the result proposed ; whereas that of the basement, or of the trigl}rph, is incom- plete, because each is a Movement of a part merely.) As I said then, they differ in kind, and you can- not at any time you choose find a Movement complete in its whole nature, but, if at all, in the whole time requisite, or ^e7»- And so it is with the Movement of walking, and WtI'"™ all others: for if motion be a Movement from one place to another place, then too are there different kinds of it, flying, walking, leaping, and such like. And not only so, but there are different kinds even in walking : the where-from and where-to are not the same in the whole Course, as in a portion of it ; nor in one portion as in another ; nor is crossing this line the same as crossing that : because a man is not merely crossing a fine, but a hne in a given place, and this is in a different place from that. ' Whicli is of course a yhems. ^ That is, subordinate Movements are complete before the whole Movement is. CHAP. III. ETHICS. 351 Of Movement, I have discoursed exactly in another treatise. I will now therefore only say, that it seems not to be complete at any given moment ; and that the many minor ones are incom- plete and specifically different, if the whence and whither can be admitted as constituting different species. But of Pleasure, the whole nature is complete at any given moment : it is plain then, that Pleasure and Movement must be different from one another, and that Pleasure belongs to the class of things whole and complete. And this might appear also from the impossibihty of moving except in a definite time, whereas there is none with respect to the sensation of Pleasure, for what exists at the very present moment is a kind of " whole." From these considerations then it is plain, that Pleasure people are not warranted in saying that Pleasure is nol;"^ is a Movement or a Generation: because these of anyS. terms are not apphcable to all things, only to such as are divisible and not "wholes :" I mean, that of an act of Sight there is no Generation, nor is there of a point, nor of a monad, nor is any one of these a Movement or a Generation : neither then of Plea- sure is there Movement or Generation, because it is> as one may say, " a whole '." ' Pleasure is so instantaueous a sensation, that it cannot be conceived divisible or incomplete: the longest continued Pleasure is only a succession of single sparks, so rapid as to give the appearance of a stream, of light. 352 ARISTOTLE'S BOOK X. CHAP. IV. Aristotle's own account of Pleasure. tio^n bf^" ^^^ ^^^^^ every Percipient Faculty works upon "the best the Object answering to it, and perfectly, the Faculty " '"^' in a good state upon the most excellent of the Objects within its range, (for Perfect Working is thought to be much what I have described ; and we will not raise any question about saying the Faculty works, instead of, that subject wherein the Faculty resides,) in each case the best Working is, that of the Faculty in its best state upon the best of the Objects answering to it. And this will be, further, most perfect and most pleasant : for Plea- sure is attendant upon every Percipient Faculty, and in like manner on every intellectual operation and speculation ; and that is most pleasant which is. most perfect, and that most perfect, which is the Working of the best Faculty upon the most exceh lent of the Objects within its range. Pleasure And Pleasure perfects the Working. But Plea- not'l^^ls-'' sure does not perfect it in the same way as the itTbdn'" Faculty and Object of Perception do, being good ; just as health and the physician are not in similar senses causes of a healthy state. And that Pleasure does arise upon the exercise of every Percipient Faculty is evident, for we com- monly say that sights and sounds are pleasant ; it is plain also that this is especially the case when the Faculty is most excellent, and works upon a similar Object: and when both the Object and CHAP. IV. ETHICS. 353 Faculty of Perception are such. Pleasure will always exist, supposing of course an agent and patient. Furthermore, Pleasure perfects the act of Work- but as ing, not in the way of an inherent state, but as akMo/ supervening finish, such as is bloom in people at "*"''''■" their prime. Therefore so long as the Object of intellectual or sensitive Perception is such as it should be, and also the Faculty which discerns or reahzes the Object, there will be Pleasure in the Working : because when that which has the ca- pacity of being acted on, and that which is apt to act, are alike and similarly related, the same result follows naturally. How is it then that no one feels Pleasure con-pieasareia tinuously ? is it not that he wearies, because all hTteTrupt- human faculties are incapable of unintermitting workl'n™^ exertion ; and so, of course. Pleasure does not ''*°°°' ^^' arise either, because that follows upon the act of Working. But there are some things which please when new, but afterwards not in the like way, for exactly the same reason : that at first, the mind is roused, and works on these Objects with its powers at full tension ; just as they who are gazing sted- festly at any thing ; but afterwards the act of Working is not of the kind it was at first, but careless, and so the Pleasure too is dulled. Again, a person may conclude that all men grasp pleasure i« at Pleasure, because all aim likewise at Life, anddesiTr/by* Life is an act of Working, and every man works at Jjjj'j'f^!;*'^^* and with those things which also he best likes ; the musical man, for instance, works with his hearing at melodies ; the studious man, with his intellect at speculative questions, and so forth. And Plea- A a 354 ARIvSTOTLE'S book x. sure perfects the acts of Working, and so Life, after which men grasp. No wonder then, that they aim also at Pleasure, because it perfects Life to each, which is itself choice-worthy. (We will take leave to omit the question whether we choose Life for Pleasure's sake, or Pleasure for Life's sake; be- cause these two plainly are closely connected, and admit not of separation ; since Pleasure comes not into being without Working, and again, every Working Pleasure perfects.) Pleasure is And this is One reason why Pleasures are thought shown to be , _ •' ° of, different to differ in kind, because we suppose that things First,' be- which differ in kind must be perfected by things Snl'^'^ so differing : it plainly being the case with the different^fn productious of Nature and Art ; as animals, and i''°d- trees, and pictures, and statues, and houses, and furniture ; and so we suppose that in like manner acts of Working which are different in kind, are perfected by things differing in kind. Now Intel- lectual Workings differ specifically from those of the Senses, and these last from one another ; therefore so do the Pleasures which perfect them. Secondly, This may be shown also from the intimate con- pleasureinnexion subsisting between each Pleasure and the fncreaTe? Working which it perfects : I mean, that the Plea- ihe Work- g^j.g proper to any Working increases that Working ; for they who work with Pleasure sift every thing more closely, and carry them out to a greater degree of nicety ; for instance, those men become geometricians who take Pleasure in geometry, and they apprehend particular points more completely : in like manner men who are fond of music, or architecture, or any thing else, improve, each on his own pursuit, because they feel Pleasure in them. CHAP. IV. ETHICS. 356 Thus the Pleasures aid in increasing the Workings, and things which do so aid are proper and pecuUar : but the things which are proper and pecuhar to others specifically different, are themselves also specifically different. Yet even more clearly may this be shown, fi"om3diy. Be- the fact that the Pleasures arising from one kind of Pleasures Workings, hinder other Workings; for instance, different" people who are fond of flute-music cannot keep Jj^'^/°^° their attention to conversation or discourse, when they catch the sound of a flute ; because they take more Pleasure in flute-playing than in- the Work- ing they are at the time engaged on; in other words, the Pleasure attendant on flute-playing, destroys the Working of conversation or discourse. Much the same kind of thing takes plade in other cases, when a person is engaged in two different Workings at the same time : that is, the pleasdnter of the two keeps pushing out the other, and, if the disparity in pleasantness be great, then more and more, till a man even ceases altogether to work at the other. This is the reason why, when we are very much pleased with any thing whatever, we do nothing else, and it is only when we are but moderately pleased with one occupation, that we vary it with another : people, for instance, who eat sweetmeats in the theatre, do so most when the performance is indiffferent. Since then the proper and peculiar Pleasure gives accuracy to the Workings, and makes them more enduring and better of their kind, while those Pleasures which are foreign to them mar them, it is plain there is a wide difference between them: Aa2 356 ARISTOTLE'S book x. in fact. Pleasures foreign to any Working have pretty much the same effect as the Pains proper to if" ; which, in fact, destroy the Workings; I mean, if one man dislikes writing, or another, calculation, the one does not write, the other does not calcu- late.; because, in each case, the Working is attended with some Pain : so then, contrary effects are pro- duced upon the Workings by the Pleasures and Pains proper to them, by which I mean those which arise upon the Working, in itself, independently of any other circumstances. As for the Pleasures foreign to a Working, we have said already that they produce a similar effect to the Pain proper to it; that is, they destroy the Working, only not in like way. Well then, as Workings differ from one another in goodness and badness, some being fit objects of choice, . others of avoidance, and others in their nature indifferent. Pleasures are similarly related ; since its own proper Pleasure attends on each Working : of course, that proper to a good Work- ing is good, that proper to a bad, bad: for even the desires for what is noble are praiseworthy; and for what is base, blameworthy. The Plea- Furthermore, the Pleasures attendant on Work- sures are . , , t ■ i i more close- mgs are more closely connected with them, even DMted'withthan the desires after them: for these last are ings^°an' Separate both in time and nature, but the former whior'"^^^ are close to the Workings, and so indivisible from originate them, as to raise a question whether the Working and the Pleasvire are identical; but Pleasure does " A man is as effectually hindered from taking a walk by the aKKorpia ribovfj of reading a novel, as by the oIkcIu "Kmtj of gout in the feet. CHAP. IV. ETHICS. 367 not seem to be an Intellectual Operation, nor a Faculty of Perception; because that is absurd, but yet it gives some the impression of being the same, from not being separated from these. As then the Workings are different, so are their Differem of Work- Pleasures ; now Sight differs from Touch in purity, ings de- and Hearing and Smelling from Taste; therefore, p^gj^ji in like manner, do their Pleasures; and again, In-^j|^^r,^i, tellectual Pleasures from these Sensual, and the different kinds both of Intellectual and Sensual, from one another. It is thought, moreover, that each animal has a Pleasure proper to itself, as it has a proper Work ; that Pleasure of course which is attendant on the Working. And the soundness of this will appear upon particular inspection : for horse, dog, and man have different Pleasures; as Heraclitus says, an ass would sooner have hay than gold; in other words, provender is pleasanter to asses than gold. So then the Pleasures of animals specifically different are also specifically different, but those of the same, we may reasonably suppose, are without dif- ference. Yet in the case of human creatures, they differ since i not a little : tor the very same thmgs please some, niteiy i and pain others : and what are painful and hateful tiona oi to some, are pleasant to, and liked by, others. The ^'**^" same is the case with sweet things : the same will not seem so to the man in a fever, as to him who is in health : nor .will the invalid and the person in robust health have the same notion of warmth. The same is the case with other things also. Now in all such cases, that is held to be, which what impresses the good man with the notion of being sare.' 358 ARISTOTLE'S book x. such and such ; and if this is a sound maxim, (as it is usually held to be,) and Virtue, that is, the Gpod man, in that he is such, is the measure of every thing, then those must be real Pleasures, which give him the impression of being so, and those things pleasant in v^^hich he takes Pleasure, Nor is it at all astonishing, that what are to him unpleasant, should give another person the impres- sion of being pleasant, for men are hable to many corruptions and marrings; and the things in ques- tion are not pleasant really, only to these par- ticular persons, and to them only as being thus disposed. . Well, of coiu-se, -you may say, it is obvious that we must not assert those which are confessedly disgraceful, to be real Pleasures, except to de- praved tastes ; but of those which are thought to be good, what kind, or which, must we say is The Pleasure of Man? is not the answer plain, from considering the Workings, because the Pleasures follow upon these ? That at- If then there be one or several Workings which 0^111° belong to the perfect and blessed man, the Plea^ wwking, sures which perfect these Workings must be said inge!^"''" ^^ ^^ specially and properly The Pleasures of Man; and all the rest in a secondary sense, and in various degrees, according as the Workings are related to those highest and best ones. CHAP. V. ETHICS. 359 CHAP. V. A recapitulation of former statements respecting Happiness. Now that we have spoken about the Excellences Happin of both kinds, and Friendship in its varieties, andaketehe. Pleasures, it remains to sketch out Happiness, °"'' since we assume that to be the one End of all human things : and we shall save time and trouble, by recapitulating what was stated before. Well then, we said that it is not a State merely ; it is no because, if it were, it might belong to one who"*"^ slept all his life through, and merely vegetated, or to one who fell into very great calamities : and so, if these possibilities displease us, and we would rather put it into the rank of some kind of Work- but aWc ing, (as was also said before,) and Workings are of™^' different kinds, (some being necessary and choice- jvorthy with a view to other things, while others are so in themselves,) it is plain we must rank Happiness among those choice-worthy for their choiee- own sakes, and not among those which are sous own with a view to something further : because Happi- ness has no lack of any thing, but is self-sufficient. By choice-worthy in themselves, are meant those from which nothing is sought beyond the act of Working : and of this kind are thought to be the actions according to Virtue, because doing what is noble and excellent, is one of those things which are choice-worthy for their own sake alone. And again, such amusements as are pleasant ; Amuse- because people do not choose them with any pears to 360 ARISTOTLE'S book x. such a further purpose : in fact, they receive more harm ' than profit from them, neglecting their persons and their property. Still the common run of those who are judged happy take refuge in such pastimes, which is the reason why they who have varied talent in such are highly esteemed among despots ; because they make themselves pleasant in those things which these aim at, and these ac- cordingly want such men, and is Now these things are thought to be appurte- sometimes ^ tt ■ i • i confounded uances 01 Happmcss, because men m power spend ^ness, be- their Icisurc herein : yet it may be, we cannot exampie*'^^ arguB from the example of such men : because set by the there . is neither Virtue nor Intellect necessarily involved in having power, and yet these are the only sources of good Workings : nor does it follow, that because these men, never having tasted pure and generous Pleasure, take refuge in bodily ones, we are therefore to believe them to be more choice- worthy : for children too believe, that those things are most excellent, which are precious in their eyes. We may well believe, that as children and men have different ideas as to what is precious, so too have the bad, and the good : therefore, as we have many times said, those things are really precious and pleasant, which seem so to the good man : and as to each individual, that Working is most choice-worthy, which is in accordance with his own" state, so to the good man that is so, which is in accordance with Virtue. ButHappi- Happiness then stands not in amusement; in norher*ein;fact, the Very notion is absurd of the End being a^*g"g^gnt amusement, and of one's toiHng and enduring is really hardncss all one's life long, with a view to amuse- CHAP. V. ETHICS. 361 ment: for every thing in the world, so to speak, not choi we choose with some further End in view, except usd'^^ Happiness, for that is the End comprehending all others. Now to take pains, and to labour with a view to amusement, is plainly foolish, and very childish : but to amuse one's self with a view to steady employment afterwards, as Anacharsis says, is thought to be right : for amusement is like rest, and men want rest, because unable to labour con- tinuously. Rest, therefore, is not an End, because it isbutwiti adopted vnth. a view to Working afterwards. Sw Again, it is held that the Happy Life must be one A^d be. in the way of Excellence, and this is accompanied "j'"^!^? by earnestness", and stands not in amusement. p1»«'E^ ■^ lence, a Moreover, those things which are done in earnest, this, Ea we say, are better than things riierely ludicrous and joined vdth amusement : and we say, that the Working of the better part, or the better man, is more earnest ; and the Working of the better is at once better, and more capable of Happiness. Then, again, as for bodily Pleasures, any ordinary Bodily 1 • 1 i • ii -J. Pleasun person, or even a slave, might enjoy them, just as are far i well as the best man Uving: but Happiness no one^"^" supposes a slave to share, except so far as it is implied in hfe : because Happiness stands not in such pastimes, but in the Workings in the way of Excellence, as has also been stated before. ° I have thus rendered • 1 .,, ledge of heahng, or gymnastics, or any other, a man will general treat individual cases the better for being acquainted fs"eee''ss^f with general rules; as, " that so and so is good for^^?"*"' aU, or for jnen in such and such cases:" because, general maxims are not only said to be, but are the 376 ARISTOTLE'S book x. object-matter of sciences: still this is no reason against the possibility of a man's taking excellent care of some one case, though he possesses no knowledge, but from experience is exactly ac- quainted with what happens in each point ; just as some people are thought to doctor themselves best, though they would be wholly unable to administer, relief to others. Yet it may seem to be necessary nevertheless, for one who wishes to become a real artist, and well acquainted with the theory of his profession, to have recourse to general principles, and ascertain all their capacities: for we have already stated that these are the object-matter of sciences. If then it appears that we may become good through the instrumentality of laws, of course, whoso wishes to make men better by a system! of care and training, miist try to make a Legislator of himself: for to treat skilfully just any one who may be put before you, is not what any ordinary person can do, but, if any one, he who has knowledge; as in the healing art, and all others which involve careful practice and skill. How and Will uot then our next business be to enquire may this from what sources, or how one maiiy acquire this Legisfation faculty of Legislation ; or shall we say, that, as in fromsTates- similar cases. Statesmen are the people to learn "^°^ from, since this faculty was thought to be a part of No; they the Social Scieuce. Must we not admit, that the teach it. Political Science plainly does not stand on a similar footing to that .of other sciences and faculties : I mean, that while in all other cases those who impart the faculties and themselves exert them, are identical, (physicians and painters for instance;) CHAP. VIII. ETHICS. 377 matters of Statesmanship the Sophists profess toTheSo- teach, but not one of them practises it, that being tend to^b left to those actually engaged in it: and these the°ope- might really very well be thought to do it by some p*yf^ '" singular knack, and by mere practice rather than!'"^"|''^^ by any intellectual process : for they neither write »<>' br i" nor speak on these matters, (though it might betheynevf more to their credit, than composing speeches forpMtit!"" the courts or the assembly,) nor again have they made Statesmen of their own sons or their friends. One can hardly suppose, but that they would have done so if they could, seeing that they could have bequeathed no more precious legacy to their communities, nor would they have preferred, for themselves or their dearest friends, the possession of any faculty rather than this. Practice, however, seems to contribute no little Practice to its acquisition ; merely breathing the atmosphere [mportan of pohtics would never have raade Statesmen of "g'^^oq*^ them, and therefore we may conclude, that they^'*'°°- who woxild acquire a knowledge of Statesmanship, must have in addition practice. But of the Sophists, they who profess to teach Mistakes it are plainly a long way off from doing so : in fact, asVL' they have no knowledge at all of its nature and°bj^^f' objects ; if they had, they would never have put it on the same footing-with Rhetoric, or even on a lower : neither would they have conceived it to be " an easy matter to legislate, by simply collecting such laws as are famous, because of course one could select the best," as though the selection were not a matter of skill, and the judging aright a very great matter, as in Music: for they alone, who have practical knowledge of a thing, can judge c c 378 ARISTOTLE'S book x. the perilarmances rightly, or understand with what means and in what way they are accompUshed, and what harmonizes with what: the unlearned must be content, with being able to discover whether the result is good or bad, as in painting. Now laws may be called the performances, or tangible results of Political Science ; how then can a man acquire from these the faculty of Legislation, or choose the best? we do not see men made physicians by compilations : and yet in these treatises men endeavour to give not only the cases, but also how they may be cured, and the proper treatment in each case, dividing the various bodily habits. Well, these are thought to be useful to professional men, but to the unprofessional, useless. In hke manner it may be, that collections of Yaws and Constitutions would be exceedingly useftQ to such as are able to speculate on them, and judge what is well, and what ill, and what kind of things fit in with what others. But they, who without this quahfication should go through such matters, cannot have right judgment, unless they have it by instinct, though they may become more intelligent in such matters. Therefore Siuce then those who have preceded us have proceed to left Uninvestigated the subject of Legislation, it will of l""^!?' be better perhaps for us to investigate it ourselves, lation, g^jj^^ -jj £g^g^^ ^jjg whole subject of Polity, that thus what we may call Human Philosophy may be com- pleted, as far as in us hes. examining, First thcu, let US eudeavour to get whatever vions state- fragments of good there may be in the statements actaS'cae™of our predecessors ; next, from the Polities we of Polity. YiQ^Q collected, ascertain what kind of things pre- OHAP. VIII. ETHICS. 379 serve or destroy Communities, and what, particular Constitutions; and the cause why some are well and others ill managed: f6r after, such 'enquiry, we shall be the better able to take a concentrated view as to what kind of Constitution is best, what kind of regulations are best for each, and what laws and customs. THE END. BAXTER, PEINTBB, OXFORD.