Write a one-paragraph response to each question. Each answer should include at least one quotation from either the Nicomachean Ethics or the Politics to support your argument. Cite the author, text, and page number in parentheses following the quotation or paraphrase. A strong paragraph addresses a single topic, can be anywhere between a quarter to three-quarters of a double-spaced page in length (75-225 words), and has (1) a topic sentence stating the argument of the paragraph and (2) a series of logically connected sentences supporting that paragraph’s argument with evidence and/or analysis.
- What, according to Aristotle, is the relationship between happiness and virtue?
- Why, according to Aristotle, is citizenship essential to happiness?
- What is the relationship in Aristotle between freedom and citizenship?
- What, according to Aristotle, is the best form of government? Why is it the best?
Read: Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics (c. 330 B.C.E.),
Book I: Chapters 1-5, 7-10, 13, Book II: Chapters 1-9*
Aristotle, Politics (c. 347-322 B.C.E.), Book I:
Chapters 1-13, Book III: Chapters 1, 4, and 5
Book III: Chapters 6-9, 11-12, 15-18, Book IV: Chapters 7-
11, Book VI: Chapters 2-3, Book VII: Chaps. 1-3,
13-14, 17, Book VIII: Chapters 1-2
Aristotle political science
ETHICA NICOMACHEA
(Nicomachean Ethics)
BOOK
1
1 Every art and every inquiry, and similarly every action and pur- 1094-”
suit, is thought to aim at some good; and for this reason the good has
rightly been declared 1 to be that at which all things aim. But a certain
difference is found among ends; some are activities, others are
products apart from the activities that produce them. Where there are S
ends apart from the actions, it is the nature of the products to be
better than the activities. Now, as there are many actions, arts, and
sciences, their ends also are many; the end of the medical art is health
,
that of shipbuilding a vessel, that of strategy victory, that of econom
ics wealth. But where such arts fall under a single capacity-as 10
bridle-making and the other arts concerned with the equipment of
horses fall under the art of riding, and this and every military action
under strategy, in the same way other arts fall under yet others-
in a11 of these the ends of the master arts are to be preferred to all
the subordinate ends; for it is for the sake of the former that the 15
latter are pursued. It makes no difference whether the activities them
~
selves are the ends of the actions, or something else apl1rt from the
activities, as in the case of the sciences just mentioned.
2 If, then, there is some end of the things we do, which we desire
for its own sake (everything else being desired for the sake of this),
and if we do not choose everything for the sake of something else
(for at that rate the process would go on to infinity, so that our desire 20
would he empty and vain), clearly this must he the good and the
cruef good. Will not the knowledge of it, then, have a great influence
on life? Shall we not, like archers who have a mark to aim at, be more
likely to hit upon what is right? If so, we must try, in outline at least 25
to determine what it is, and of which of the sciences or capacities it
is the object. It would seem to belong to the most authoritative art
1 PerhaPll by Eudoltus; Cf. II~2b o.
935
937 936 NICOMACHEAN ETHICS [BK.I: CH.2
and that which is most truly the master art. And politics appears to
be of this nature; for it is this that ordains which of the sciences
1094b should be studied in a state, and which each class of citizens shoulrl
learn and up to what point they should learn them; and we see even
the most highly esteemed of capacities to fall under this, e. g. strategy,
5 economics, rhetoric; now, since politics uses the rest of the sciences,
and since, again, it legislates as to what we to do and what we are
to abstain from, the end of this science must include those of the
others, so that this end must be the good for man. For even if the end
is the same for a single man and for a state, that of the state seems
at all events something greater and more complete whether to attain
or to preserve; though it is worth while to attain the end merely for
one man, it is finer and more godlike to attain it for a nation or for
10 city-states. These, then, are the ends at which our inquiry aims, since
it is political science, in one sense of that term.
3 Our discussion will be adequate if it has as much clearness as the
subject-matter admits of, for precision is not to be sought for alike
in all discussions, any more than in all the products of the crafts. Now
IS fine and just actions, which political science investigates, admit of
much variety and fluctuation of opinion, so that they may be thought
to exist only by convention, and not by nature. And goods also give
rise to a similar fluctuation because they bring harm to many people
;
for before now men have been undone by reason of their wealth, and
others by reason of their courage. We must be content, then, in speak
20 ing of such subjects and with such premisses to indicate the truth
roughly and in outline, and in speaking about things which are only for
the most part true and with premisses of the same kind to reach conclu
sions that are no better. In the same spirit, therefore, should each
type of statement be received; for it is the mark of an educated man
25 to look for precision in each class of things just so far as the nature
of the subject admits; it is evidently equally foolish to accept probable
reasoning from a mathematician and to demand from a rhetorician
scientific proofs.
Now each man judges well the things he knows, and of these he is
a good jUdge. And so the man who has been educated in a subject is
1095- a good judge of that subject, and the man who has received an all
round education is a good judge in general. Hence a young man is not
a proper hearer of lectures on political science; for he is inexperienced
in the actions that occur in life, but its discussions start from these
and are about these; and, further. since he tends to follow his passions,
‘BK.I: CH.3]
NICOMACHEAN ETHICS
his study will be vain and unprofitable, because the end aimed at is
not knowledge but action. And it makes no difference whether he is 5
young in years or youthful in character; the defect does not depend
on time, but on his living, and pursuing each successive object, as
passion directs. For to such persons, as to the incontinent, knowledge
brings no profit; but to those who desire and act in accordance with 10
a rational principle knowledge about such matters will be of great
benefit.
These remarks about the student, the sort of treatment to be ex
pected, and the purpose of the inquiry, may be taken as our preface.
4 Let us resume our inquiry and state, in view of the fact that all
knowledge and every pursuit aims at some good, what it is that we
say political science aims at and what is the highest of all goods IS
achievable by action. Verbally there is very general agreement; for
both the genera!” run of men and people of superior refinement say
that it is happiness, and identify living well and doing well with being
happy; but with regard to what happiness is they differ, and 20
the many do not give the same account as the wise. For the former
think it is some plain and obvious thing, like pleasure, wealth, or
honour; they differ, however, from One another-and often even the
same man identifies it with different things, with health when he is
ill, with wealth when he is poor; but, conscious of their ignorance, 25
they admire those who proclaim some great ideal that is above their
comprehension. Now some 2 thought that apart from these many
goods there is another which is self-subsistent and causes the goodness
of all these as welL To examine all the opinions that have been held
were perhaps somewhat fruitless; enough to examine those that are
most prevalent or that seem to be arguable.
Let us not fail to notice, however, that there is a difference between 30
arguments from and those to the first principles. For Plato, too, was
right in raising this question and asking, as he used to do, ‘are we on
the way from or to the first principles?’.3 There is a difference, as
there is in a race-course between the course from the judges to the
turning-point and the way back. For, while we must begin with what 10951>
is known, things are objects of knowledge in two senses-,-some to us,
some without qualification. Presumably, then, we must begin with
things known to us. Hence anyone who is to listen intelligently to
lectures about what is noble and just and, generally, about the subjects 5
£)f political 5cience must have been brought up in good habits. For the
2 The Platonic School; Cf. ch. 6. .3 cr. Rep. 5I
I
B.
938 NICOMACHEAN ETHICS [BK.I: CH.4
fact is the starting-point, and if this is sufficiently plain to him, he
I:
i
\
will not at the start need the reason as well; and the man who has
been well brought up has or can easily get starting-points. And as for
~ him who neither has nor can get them, let him hear the words of
~1 Hesiod:
:,1
~~
!i
iJ 10 Far best is he who knows alI things himself; ,
Good, he that hearkens when men counsel right;
But he who neither knows, nor lays to heart
Another’s wisdom, is a useless wight.
5 Let us, however, resume our discussion from the point at which
we digressed. To judge from the lives that men lead, most men, and men
1S of the most vulgar type, seem (not without some ground) to identify
the good, or happiness, with pleasure; which is the reason why they
love the life of enjoyment. For there are, we may say, three prominent
types of life-that just mentioned, the political, and thirdly the con
templative life. Now the mass of mankind are evidently quite slavish
20 in their tastes, preferring a life suitable to beasts, but they get some
ground for their view from the fact that many of those in high places
share the tastes of SardanapalIus. A consideration of the prominent
types of life shows that people of superior refinement and of active
disposition identify happiness with honour; for this is, roughly speak
ing, the end of the political life. But it seems too superficial to be what
we are looking for, since it is thought to depend on those who bestow
25 honour rather than on him who receives it, but the good we divine to
be something proper to a man and not easily taken from him. Further,
men seem to pursue honour in order that they may be assured of their
goodness; at least it is by men of practical wisdom that they seek
to be honoured, and among those who know them, and on the ground
of their virtue; clearly, then, according to them, at any rate, virtue
30 is better. And perhaps one might even suppose this to be, rather than
honour, the end of the political life. But even this appears somewhat
incomplete; for possession of virtue seems actually compatible with
being asleep, or with lifelong inactivity, and, further, with the greatest
1096& sufferings and misfortunes; but a man who was living so no one would
call happy, unless he Were maintaining a thesis at all costs. But enough
of this; for the subject has been sufficiently treated even in the current
discussions. Third comes the contemplative life, which we shall con
sider later.4
4 lIna 12-II’1S& 8, II7S” 22-II’9& 3 2.
BK. I: CIt. 5} NICOMACHEAN ETHICS 939
The life of money-making is one undertaken under compulsion, and S
wealth is evidently not the good we are seeking; for it is merely useful
and for the sake of something else. And so· one might rather take the
aforenamed objects to be ends; for they are loved for themselves. But
it is evident that not even these are ends; yet many arguments have
been thrown away in support of them. Let us leave this subject, then. 10
6 We had perhaps better consider the universal good and discuss
thoroughly what is meant by it, although such an inquiry is made an
uphill one by the fact that the Forms have been introduced by friends
of our own. Yet it would perhaps be thought to be better, indeed to
be our duty, for the sake of maintaining the truth even to destroy what
touches us closely, especially as we are philosophers or lovers of 15
wisdom; for, while both are dear, piety requires us to honour truth
above our friends.
The men who introduced this doctrine did not posit Ideas of classes
within which they recognized priority and posteriority (which is the
reason why they did not maintain the existence of an Idea embracing
all numbers); but the term I good’ is used both in the category of
substance and in that of quality and in that of relation, and that 20
which is per se, 1. e. substance, is prior in nature to the relative (for
the latter is like an offshoot and accident of being) ; so that there could
not be a common Idea set over all these goods. Further, since Igood
‘
has as many senses as ‘being’ (for it is predicated both in the category
of substance, as of God and of reason, and in quality, 1. e. of the 2S
virtues, and in quantity, 1. e. of that which is moderate, and in rela
tion, 1. e. of the useful, and in time, i. e. of the right opportunity,
and in place, i. e. of the right locality and the like), clearly it cannot
be something universally present in all cases and single; for then it
could not have been predicated in all the categories but in one only.
t
I!
Further, since of the things answering to one Idea there is one science, 30
there would have been one science of all the goods; but as it is there
are many sciences even of the things that fall under one category, e. g.
of opportunity, for opportunity in war is studied by strategics and in
disease by medicine, and the moderate in food is studied by medicine
and in exercise by the science of gymnastics. And one might ask the
question, what in the world they mean by la thing itself’, if (as is
the case) in ‘man himself’ and in a particular man the account of man 3S
is one and the same. For in so far as they are man, they will in no 1090′
respect differ; and if this is so, neither will ‘good itself’ and particular
goods, in so far as they are good. But again it will flot be good any
the more for being eternal, since that which lasts long is no whiter
I:
I
.•
‘
9-+0 NICOMACHEAN ETHICS [BK. I: CH. 6
5 than that which perishes in a day. The Pythagoreans seem to give a
I
more plausible account of the good, when they place the one in the
column of goods; and it is they that Speusippus seems to have fol’
11
lowed.
~ But let us discuss these matters elsewhere 5; an objection to what ‘1
1~·11 . we have said, however, may be discerned in the fact that the Platonists j
~ 10 have not been speaking about all goods, and that the goods that are
/ pursued and loved for themselves are called good by reference to a
single Form, while those which tend to produce or to preserve these
somehow or to prevent their contraries are called so by reference to
these, and in a secondary sense. Clearly, then, goods must be spoken
of in two ways, and some must be good in themselves, the others by
reason of these. Let us separate, then, things good in themselves from
15 things useful, and consider whether the former are called good by
reference to a single Idea. What sort of goods would one call good in
themselves? Is it those that are pursued even when isolated from
others, such as intelligence, sight, and certain pleasures and honours?
Certainly, if we pursue these also for the sake of something else, yet
one would place them among things good in themselves. Or is nothing
20 other than the Idea of good good in itself? In that case the Form will be
t!mpty. But if the things we have named are also things good in them
selves, the account of the good will have to appear as something
identical in them all, as that of whiteness is identical in snow and in
white lead. But of honour, wisdom, and pleasure, just in respect of
2S their goodness, the accounts are distinct and diverse. The good, there
fore, is not some common element answering to one Idea.
But what then do we mean by the good? It is surely not like the
things that only chance to have the same name. Are goods one, then,
by being derived from one good or by all contributing to one good,
or are they rather one by analogy? Certainly as sight is in the body,
30 so is reason in the soul, and so on in other cases. But perhaps these
subjects had better be dismissed for the present; for perfect precision
about them would be more appropriate to another branch of philoso
phy.6 And similarly with regard to the Idea; even if there is some
one good which is universally predicable of goods or is capable of
separate and independent existence, clearly it could not be achieved
or attained by man; but we are now seeking something attainJ.ble.
35 Perhaps, however, some one might think it worth while to recognize
tIis with a view to the goods that are attainable and achievable; for
II Cf. Met. 986″ 22-6, 1028t 21-4, 1072b 30-1073& 3,1091″ 29-” 3, b 1.~-1092& 17.
II Cf. Met. iv. 2
BK.I: CH.6] NICOMACHEAN ETHICS 941
having this as a sort of pattern we shall know better the goods that 1097&
are good for us, and if we know them shall attain them. This argument
has some plausibility, but seems to clash with the procedure of the
sciences; for all of these, though they aim at some good and seek to 5
supply the deficiency of it, leave on one side the knowledge of the
good. Yet that all the exponents of the arts should be ignorant of, and
should not even seek, so great an aid is not probable. It is hard, too,
to see how a weaver or a carpenter will be benefited in regard to his
own craft by knowing this ‘good itself’, or how the man who has 10
viewed the Idea itself will be a better doctor or general thereby. For
a doctor seems not even to study health in this way, but the health
of man, or perhaps rather the health of a particular man; it is indi
viduals that he is I;tealing. But enough of these topics.
7 Let us again return to the good we are seeking, and ask what it 15
can be. It seems different in different actions and arts; it is different
in medicine, in strategy, and in the other arts likewise. What then is
the good of each? Surely that for whose sake everything else is done.
In medicine this is health, in strategy victory, in architecture a house, 20
in any other sphere something else, and in every action and pursuit
the end; for it is for the sake of this that all men do whatever else they
do. Therefore, if there is an end for all that we do, this will be the
good achievable by action, and if there are more than one, these will
be the goods achievable by action.
So the argument has by a different course reached the same point;
but we must try to state this even more clearly. Since there are evi·
dently more than one end, and we choose some of these (e. g. wealth, 2S
flutes, and in general instruments) for the sake of something else,
clearly not all ends are final ends; but the chief good is evidently
something final. Therefore, if there is only one final end, this will be
what we are seeking, and if there are more than one, the most final
of these will be what we are seeking. Now we call that which is in 30
itself worthy of pursuit more final than that which is worthy of pursuit
for the sake of something else, and that which is never desirable for
the sake of something else more final than the things that are desirable
both in themselves and for the sake of that other thing, and there
fore we call final without qualification that which is always desirable
in itself and never for the sake of something else.
Now such a thing happiness, above all else, is held to be; for this
we choose always for itself and never for the sake of something else, 1097b
but honour, pleasure, reason,and every virtue we choose indeed for
themselves (for if nothing resulted from them we should stm choose
:1
II
.
“I’ ”
·1
.·1
I
i 1.1
Ii
1,1;
‘1
I1
I
!I
I
I
, I
(
\’
942 NICOMACHEAN ETHICS [BK.I: CR. 7
each of them), but we choose them also for the sake of happiness,
S judging that by means of them we shall be happy. Happiness, on the
other hand, no one chooses for the sake of these, nor, in general, for
anything other than itself.
From the point of view of self-sufficiency the same result seems to
follow; for the final good is thought to be self-sufficient. Now by
self-sufficient we do not mean that which is sufficient for a man by
10 himself, for one who lives a solitary life, but also for parents, children,
wife, and in general for his friends and fellow citizens, since man is
born for citizenship, But some limit must be set to this; for if we
extend our requirement to ancestors and descendants and friends’
friends we are in for an infinite series. Let us examine this question,
however, on another occasion;7 the self-sufficient we now define as
15 that which when isolated makes life desirable and lacking in nothing;
and such we think happiness to be; and further we think it most
desirable of all things, without being counted as one good thing among
others-if it were so counted it would clearly be made more desirable
by the addition of even the least of goods; for that which is added
lO becomes an excess of goods, and of goods the greater is always more
desirable. Happiness, then, is something final and self-sufficient, and is
the end of action.
Presumably, however, to say that happiness is the chief good seems a
platitude, and a clearer account of what it is is still desired. This might
2S perhaps be given, if we could first ascertain the function of man. For
just as for a flute-player, a sculptor, or any artist, and, in general,
for all things that have a function or activity, the good and the ‘well’
is thought to reside in the function, so would it seem to be for man,
if he has a function. Have the carpenter, then, and the tanner certain
30 functions or activities, and has man none? Is he born without a func
tion? Or as eye, hand, foot, and in general each of the parts evidently
has a function, may one lay it down that man similarly has a function
apart from all these? What then can this be? Life seems to be common
even to plants, but we are seeking what is peculiar to man. Let us
1098& exclude, therefore, the life of nutrition and growth. Next there would
be a life of perception, but it also seems to be common even to the
horse, the ox, and. every animal. There remains, then, an active life
of the element that has a rational principle; of this, one part has such
a principle in the sense of being obedient to one, the other in the sense
5 of po’!Sessing one and exercising thought. And, as ‘life of the rational
element’ also has two meanings, we must state that life in the sense of
activity is what we mean; for this seems to be the more proper sense
7 i. 10, II, h. 10.
BK.I: CR. 7] NICOMACHEAN ETHICS 943
of the term. Now if the function of man is an activity of soul which
follows or implies a rational principle, and if we say ‘a so-and-so’ and
‘a good so-and-so’ have a function which is the same in kind, e. g. a
lyre-player and a good lyre-player, and so without qualification in all
cases, eminence in respect of goodness being added to the name 10
of the function (for the function of a lyre-player is to play the lyre,
and that of a good lyre-player is to do so well): if this is the case,
[and we state the function of man to be a certain kind of life, and
this to be an activity or actions of the soul implying a rational prin
ciple, and the function of a good man to be the good and noble
performance of these, and if any action is well performed when it is 15
perfonned in accordance with the appropriate excellence: if this is
the case,] human good turns out to be activity of soul in accordance
with virtue, and if there are more than one virtue, in accordance with
the best and most complete.
But we must add (in a complete life’. For one swallow does not
make a summer, nor does one day; and so too one day, or a short time,
does not make a man blessed and happy.
Let this serve as an outline of the good; for we must presumably 20
first sketch it roughly, and then later fill in the details. But it would
seem that anyone is capable of carrying on and articulating what has
once been well outlined, and that time is a good discoverer or partner
in such a work; to which facts the advances of the arts are due; for
anyone can add what is lacking. And we must also remember what 25
has been said before,S and not look for precision in all things alike, but
in each class of things such precision as accords with the subject
matter, and so much as is appropriate to the inquiry. For a carpenter I
and a geometer investigate the right angle in different ways; the
former does so in so far as the right angle is useful for his work, 30
while the latter inquires what it is or what sort of thing it is; for he
is a spectator of the truth. We must act in the same way, then, in t
all other matters as well, that our main task may not be subordinated I
to minor questions. Nor must we demand the cause in all matters I
I,
alike; it is enough in some cases that the fact be well established, as 10981:
in the case of the first principles; the fact is the primary thing or first
principle. Now of first principles we see some by induction, some by
perception, some by a certain habituation, and others too in other
ways. But each set of principles we must try to investigate in the
natural way, and we must take pains to state them definitely, since S
they have a great influence on what follows. For the beginning is
8 I094b II-Zj.
~
944 NICOMACHEAN ETHICS [Bx.I: Cn.1
,f
JI
,;
II
thought to be more than half of the whole, and many of the questions
we ask are cleared up by it.
a We must consider it, however, in the light not only of our coneh.
10 sian and our premisses, but also of what is commonly said about it;
for with a true view all the data harmonize, but with a false one the
~
;1
~
M
facts soon clash. Now goods have been divided into three classes,\! and
some are described as external, others as relating to soul or to body;
we call those that relate to soul most properly and truly goods, and
15 psychical actions and activities we class as relating to soul. Therefore
our account must be sound, at least according to this view, which is
an old one and agreed on by philosophers. It is correct also in that we
identify the end with certain actions and activities; for thus it falls
among goods of the soul and r.ot among external goods. Another belief
20 which harmonizes with our account is that the happy man lives well
and does well; for we have practically defined happiness as a sort of
good life and good action. The characteristics that are looked for in
happiness seem also, all of them, to belong to what we have defined
happiness as being. For some identify happiness with virtue, some’
with practical wisdom, others with a kind of philosophic wisdom,
25 others with these, or one of these, accompanied by pleasure or not
without pleasure; while others include also external prosperity. Now
some of these views have been held by many men and men of old,
others by a few eminent persons; and it is not probable that either
of these should be entirely mistaken, but rather that they should be
right in at least some one respect or even in most respects.
30 With those who identify happiness with virtue or some one virtue
our account is in harmony; for to virtue belongs virtuous activity.
But it makes, perhaps, no smaIl difference whether we place the chief
good in possession or in use, in state of mind or in activity. For the
1()99& state of mind may exist without producing any good result, as in a
man who is asleep or in some other way quite inactive, but the activity,
cannot; for one who has the activity will of necessity be acting, and
acting well. And as in the Olympic Games it is not the most beautiful
and the strongest that are crowned but those who compete (for it is
5 Some of these that are victorious), so those who act win, and rightly
win, the noble and good things in life.
Their life is a)so in itself pleasant. For pleasure is a. state of soul,
and to each man that which he is said to be a lover of is pleasant;
e. g. not only is a horse pleasant to the lover of horses, and a spectacle
10 to the lover of sights, but also in the same way just acts are pleasant
\I PI. Euthyd. 279 <\11, Phil. 48 E, Laws, 743 z.
BI’.I: Cn.8] NICOMACHEAN ETHICS 945
to the lover of justice and in generai virtuous acts to the lover of
virtue. Now for most men their pleasures are in conflict with one
another because these are not by nature pleasant, but the lovers of
what is noble find pleasant the things that are by nature pleasant; and
virtuous actions are such, so that these are pleasant for such men as
well as in their own nature. Their life, therefore, has no further need (If 1$
pleasure as a sort of adventitious charm, but has its pleasure in itself.
For, besides what we have said, the man who does not rejoice in noble
actions is not even good; since no one would call a man just who did
not enjoy acting justly, nor any man liberal who did not enjoy liberal
actions; and similarly in all other cases. If this is so, virtuous actions 20
must be in themselves pleasant. But they are also good and noble,
and have each of these attributes in the highest degree, since the good
man judges well about these attributes; his judgement is such as we
have described.10 Happiness then is the best, noblest, and most pleasant
thing in the world, and these attributes are not severed as in the 25
inscription at Delos-
Most noble is that which is justest, and best is health;
But pleasantest is it to win what we love.
For all these properties belong to the best activities; and these, or one-
the best-of these, we identify with happiness. 30
Yet evidently, as we said,l1 it needs the external goods as well; for
it is impossible, or not easy, to do noble acts without the proper equip- l099b
ment. In many actions we use friends and riches and political power
as instruments; and there are some things the lack of which takes the
lustre from happiness, as good birth, goodly children, beauty; for the
man who is very ugly in appearance or ill-born or solitary and childless
is not very likely to be happy, and perhaps a man would be still less 5
likely if he had thoroughly bad children or friends or had lost good
children or friends by death. As we said,l1 then, happiness seems to
need this sort of prosperity in addi tion; for which reason some identify
happiness with good fortune, though others identify it with virtue.
9 For this reason also the question is asked, whether happiness is
to be acquired by learning or by habituation or some other sort of train
ing, or comes in virtue of some divine providence or again by chance. 10
Now if there is any gift of the gods to men, it is reasonable that happi
ness should be god-given, and most surely god-given of all human things
inasmuch as it is the best. But this question would perhaps be more
10 i. e., he judges that virtuous actions are good and noble in the highest degree.
11 r09Sb 26-9.
i
http:described.10
946 NICOMACHEAN ETHICS [BK.I: CH.9
appropriate to another inquiry; happiness seems, however, even if it
.r
I 15 is not god-sent but comes as a result of virtue and some process of
I” learning or training, to be among the most god-like things; for that
~. which is the prize and end of virtue seems to be the best thing in. We
jj world, and something godlike and blessed.
:4 It will also on this view be very generally shared; for all who are
~ j not maimed as regards their potentiality for virtue may win it by a
” ; 20 certain kind of study and care. But if it is better to be happy thus
‘I ,: than by chance, it is reasonable that the facts should be so, since every
• thing that depends on the action of nature is by nature as good as it
can be, and similarly everything that depends on art or any rational
cause, and especially if it depends on the best of all causes. To entrust
to chance what is greatest and most noble would be a very defective
arrangement.
25 The answer to the question we are asking is plain also from the
definition of happiness; for it has been said 1.2 to be a virtuous activity
of soul, of a certain kind. Of the remaining goods, some must neces
sarily pre-exist as conditions of happiness, and others are naturally
co-operative and useful as instruments. And this will be found to agree
with what we said at the outset;13 for we stated the end of political
30 science to be the best end, and political science spends most of its pains
on making the citizens to be of a certain character, viz. good and
capable of noble acts.
It is natural, then, that we call neither ox nor horse nor any other
of the animals happy; for none of them is capable of sharing in such
llooa activity. For this reason also a boy is not happy; for he is not yet
capable of such acts, owing to his age; and boys who are called happy
are being congratulated by reason of the hopes we have for them. For
there is required, as we said,14 not only complete virtue but also a
5 complete life, since many changes occur in life, and all manner of
chances, and the most prosperous may fall into great misfortunes in
old age, as is told of Priam in the Trojan Cycle; and one who has
experienced such chances and has ended wretchedly no one calls happy.
10 10 Must no one at all, then, be called happy while he lives; must
we, as Solon says, see the end? Even if we are to lay down this doctrine,
is it also the case that a man is happy when he is dead? Or is not thb
quite absurd, especially for us who say that happiness is an activity?
15 But if we do not call the dead man happy, and if Solon does not meen
this, but that one can then safely call a man blessed as being at last
beyond evils and misfortunes, this also affords matter for discussion;
12 1098″‘ 16. 13 1094″‘ 27. 14 1098 • 16-18.
941Bx. I: ClIo 10] NICOMACHEAN ETHICS
for both evil and good are thought to exist for a dead man, as much as
for one who is alive but not aware of them; e. g. honours and dishon- 20
ours and the good or bad fortunes of children and in general of
descendants. And this also presents a problem; for though a man has
lived happily up to old age and has had a death worthy of his life,
many reverses may befall his descendants-some of them may be
good and attain the life they deserve, while with others the opposite 25
may be the case; and clearly too the degrees of relationship between
them and their ancestors may vary indefinitely. It would be odd, then,
if 1he dead man were to share in these changes and become at one time
h8.ppy, at another wretched; while it would also be odd if the fortunes
of the descendants did not for some time have some effect on the 30
happiness of their ancestors.
But we must return to our first difficulty; for perhaps by a considera
tion of it our present problem might be solved. Now if we must see the
end and only then calI a man happy, not as being happy but as having
been so before, surely this is a paradox, that when he is happy the 3::
attribute that belongs to him is not to be truly predicated of him
because we do not wish to call living men happy, on account of the 1100′
changes that may befall them, and because we have assumed happi
ness to be something permanent and by no means easily changed,
while a single man may suffer many turns of fortune’s wheel. For
clearly if we were to keep pace with his fortunes, we should often call 5
the same man happy and again wretched, making the happy man out
to be a ‘chameleon and insecurely based’. Or is this keeping pace with
his fortunes quite wrong? Success or failure in life does not depend
on these, but human life, as we said,15 needs these as mere additions,
while virtuous activities or their opposites are what constitute happi
ness or the reverse. 10
The question we have now discussed confirms our definition. For
no function of man has so much permanence as virtuous activities
(these are thought to be more durable even than knowledge of the
sciences), and of these themselves the most valuable are more durable 15
because those who are happy spend their life most readily and Ihost
continuously in these; for this seems to be the reason why we do not
forget them. The attribute in question,16 then, will belong to the happy
man, and he will be happy throughout his life; for always, or by prefer
ence to everything else, he will be engaged in virtuous action and
contemplation, and he will bear the chances of life most nobly and 20
altogether decorously, if he is ‘truly good’ and ‘foursquare beyond
reproach’ .11
111099. 3t_b 7. 18 Durability. 11 SimoDides.
I
,
NICOMACHEAN ETHICS948
Now many events happen by chance, and events differing in impor
tance; small pieces of good fortune or of its opposite clearly do not·
weigh down the scales of life one way or the other, but a multitude of
25 great events if they turn out well will make life happier (for not only’
are they themselves such as to add beauty to life, but the way a man’
deals with them may be noble and good), while if they turn out ill they
crush and maim happiness; for they both bring pain with them and
30 hinder many activities. Yet even in these nobility shines through,
when a man bears with resignation many great misfortunes, not,
through insensibility to pain but through nobility and greatness of soul.· ‘
If activities are, as we said,18 what gives life its character, no happy
man can become miserable; for he will never do the acts that are
35 hateful and mean. For the man who is truly good and wise, we think,’
1101- bears all the chances of life becomingly and always makes the best of
circumstances, as a good general makes the best military use of the’
army at his command and a good shoemaker makes the best shoes out
5 of the hides that are given him; and so with all other craftsmen. And if
this is the case, the happy man can never become miserable-thougll
he will not reach blessedness, if he meet with fortunes like those of
Priam.
Nor, again, is he many-coloured and changeable; for neither will
10 he be moved from his happy state easily or by any ordinary misadven
tures, but only by many great ones, nor, if he has had many great
misadventures, will he recover his happiness in a short time, but if at
all, only in a long and complete one in which he has attained many
splendid successes.
Why then should we not say that he is happy who is active in
15 accordance with complete virtue and is sufficiently equipped with ex-‘
ternal goods, not for some chance period but throughout a complete
life? Or must we add ‘and who is destined to live thus and die as befits
his life’? Certainly the future is obscure to us, while happiness, we
claim, is an end and something in every way final. If so, we shall call
happy those among living men in whom these conditions are, and are
20 to be, fulfilled-but happy men. So much for these questions.
11 llYfhat the fortunes of descendants ant! of all a man’s friends
should not affect his happiness at all seems a very unfriendly doctrine,
and one opposed to the opinions men hold; but since the events that
25 happen are numerous and admit of all sorts of difference, and some
111.,9. 111 Aristotle now returns to the question stated in IIOO· 18-30.
Blt.l: CR. 11) NICOMACHEAN ETHICS 949
come more near to us and others less so, it seems a long-nay, an
infinite-task to discuss each in detail; a general outline will perhaps
suffice. If, then, as some of a man’s own misadventures have a certain
weight and influence on life while others are, as it were, lighter, so
too there are differences among the misadventures of our friends taken 30 ‘ as a whole, and it makes a difference whether the various sufferings
befall the living or the dead (much more even than whether lawless I
‘~
and terrible deeds are presupposed in a tragedy or done on the stage), !
this difference also must be taken into account; or rather, perhaps, the
fact that doubt is felt whether the dead share in any good or evil. 35 IIFor it seems, from these considerations, that even if anything whether 110111
good or evil penetrates to them, it must be something weak and
negligible, either in itself or for them, or if not, at least it must be ,1\
such in degree and kind as not to make happy those who are not happy it
nor to take away their blessedness from those who are. The good or 11
bad fortunes of friends, then, seem to have some effects on the dead, 5 [I
but effects of such a kind and degree as neither to make the happy !I
unhappy nor to produce any other change of the kind. ~:
12 These questions having been definitely answered, let us consider 10 Iwhether happiness is among the things that are praised or rather among r;
the things that are prized; for clearly it is not to be placed among
potentiaUties.20 Everything that is praised seems to be praised because
it is of a certain kind and is related somehow to something else; for
we praise the just or brave man and in general both the good man and
virtue itself because of the actions and functions involved, and we 15
praise the strong man, the good runner, and so on, because he is of a
‘Icertain kind and is related in a certain way to something good and
important. This is clear also from the praises of the gods; for it seems I
absurd that the gods should be referred to our standard, but this is done
because praise involves a reference, as we said, to something else. But 20 I
if praise is for things such as we have described, clearly what applies
to the best things is not praise, but something greater and better, as is
indeed obvious; for what we do to the gods and the most godlike of men
is to call them blessed and happy. And so too with good things; no one 25
praises happiness as he does justice, but rather calls it blessed, as being
something more divine and better.
Eudoxus also seems to have been right in his method of advocating
the supremacy of pleasure; he thought that the fact that, though a
good, it is not praised indicated it to be better than the things that are
praised, and that this is what God and the good are; for by reference 30,
20 Cf. Top, n6b 4; M. M. n83b ~O.
http:potentiaUties.20
950 NICOMACHEAN ETHICS [BK.I: Cn.12
I
i to these all other things are judged. Praise is appropriate to virtue, for
~ as a result of virtue men tend to do noble deeds; but encomia are
bestowed on acts, whether of the body or of the soul. But perhaps
3S nicety in these matters is more proper to those who have made a study
of encomia; to us it is clear from what has been said that happiness is
11 1102& among the things that are prized and perfect. It seems to be so also
~ from the fact that it is a first principle; for it is for the sake of this
r
~
that we all do all that we do, and the first principle and cause of goods
is, we claim, something prized and divine.
5 13 Since happiness is an activity of soul in accordance with perfect
virtue, we must consider the na.ture of virtue; for perhaps we shall thus
see better the nature of happiness. The true student of politics, too, is
thought to have studied virtue above all things; for he wishes to make
10 his fellow citizens good and obedient to the laws. As an example of
this we have the lawgivers of the Cretans and the Spartans, and any
others of the kind that there may have been. And if this inquiry belongs
to political science, clearly the pursuit of it will be in accordance with
our original plan. But clearly the virtue we must study is human
virtue; for the good we were seeking was human good and the happiness
IS human happiness. By human virtue we mean not that of the body but
that of the soul; and happiness also we call an activity of soul. But if
this is so, clearly the student of politics must know somehow the facts
about soul, as the man who is to heal the eyes or the body as a whole
must know about the eyes or the body; and all the more since politics
20 is more prized and better than medicine; but even among doctors the
best educated spend much labour on acquiring knowledge of the body.
The student of politics, then, must study the soul, and must study it
with these objects in view, and do so just to the extent which is suffi~
dent for the questions we are discussing; for further precision is
zs perhaps something more laborious than our purposes reqUire.
Some things are said about it, adequately enough, even in the discus
sions outside our school, and we must use these; e. g. that one element
in the soul is irrational and one has a rational principle. Whether these
30 are separated as the parts of the body or of anything divisible are,
or are distinct by definition but by nature inseparable, like convex and
concave in the circumference of a circle, does not affect the preserot
question.
Of the irrational element one division seems to be widely distributed,
and vegetative in its nature, I mean that which causes nutrition and
growth; for it is this kind of power of the soul that one mUst assign to
1102\’ all nurslings and to embryos, and this sl\me power to fuD-grown crea.
BK. I: Cn. 13] NICOMACHEAN ETHICS 951
tures; this is more reasonable than to assign some different power to
them. Now the excellence of this seems to be common to all species
and not specifically human; for this part or faculty seems to function S
most in sleep, while goodness and badness are least manifest in sleep
(whence comes the saying that the happy are no better off than the
wretched for half their lives; and this happens naturally enough, since .~
sleep is an inactivity of the soul in that respect in which it is called .~
good or bad), unless perhaps to a small extent some of the movements 10
actually penetrate to the soul, and in this respect the dreams of good
11
tijmen are better than those of ordinary people. Enough of this subject,
Ijhowever; let us leave the nutritive faculty alone, since it has by its
nature no share in human excellence.
There seems to be also another irrational element in the soul-one ,i
which in a sense, however, shares in a rational principle. For we praise
the rational principle of the continent man and of the incontinent, and 15 ,11I,
the part of their soul that has such a principle, since it urges them ‘t;
1,l
aright and towards the best objects; but there is found in them also I
I
[‘
another element naturally opposed to the rational principle, which
fights against and resists that principle. For exactly as paralysed
limbs when we intend to move them to the right tum on the contrary 20
to the left, so is it with the soul; the impulSf’.s of incontinent people
move in contrary directions. But while in the body we see that which
moves astray, in the soul we do not. No doubt, however, we must none
the less suppose that in the soul too there is something contrary to the 2S
rational principle, resisting and opposing it. In what sense it is distinct
from the other elements does not concern us. Now even this seems to
have a share in a rational principle, as we said;21 at any rate in the
continent man it obeys the rational principle-and presumably in the
temperate and brave man it is still more obedient; for in him it speaks,
on all matters, with the same voice as the rational principle.
Therefore the irrational element also appears to be twofold. For the
vegetative element in no way shares in a rational principle, but the 30
appetitive, and in general the desiring element in a sense shares in it,
in so far as it listens to and obeys it; this is the sense in which we
speak of ‘talting account’ of one’s father or one’s friends, not that in
which we speak of ‘accounting’ for a mathematical property. That the
irrational element is in some sense persuaded by a rational prinCiple is
indicated also by the giving of advice md by all reproof ‘!lIlO exnorta- 1103·
tion. And if this element also must be said to have a ratioruU ~rinciple,
that which has a rational principle (as well as that which has not)
will be twofold, one subdivision having it in the strict sense lnd in
lilt 13.
952 NICOMACHEAN ETHICS BIC. 11: CH. 1] NICOMACHEAN ETHICS 953
itself, and the other having a tendency to obey as one does one’s fatherJ
\ Virtue too is distinguished into kinds in accordance with this dif~
ference; for we say that some of the virtues are intelIectual and others
5 moral, philosophic wisdom and understanding and practical wisdOIl’l
being intellectual, liberality and temperance moral. For in speaking I
)1
about a man’f character we do not say that he is wise or has under,.~
~j standing but that he is good-tempered or temperate; yet we Praise.
lr
t; the wise man also with respect to his state of mind; and of states of
;1 10 mind we call those which merit praise virtues.
•
I
BOOK II
~:
1 Virtue, then, being of two kinds, intellectual and moral, intellectual
} 15 virtue in the main owes both its birth and its growth to teaching (for
which reason it requires experience and time), while moral virtue
comes about as a result of habit, whence also its name ethike is one
that is formed by a slight variat~on from the word ethos (habit). Front
this it is also plain that none of the moral virtues arises in us by
20 for nothing that exists by nature can form a habit contrary to its natl’ ….·:;
For instance the stone which by nature moves downwards cannot
habituated to move upwards, not even if one tries to train it by throwin~
it up ten thousand times; nor can fire be habituated to move
wards, nor can anything else that by nature behaves in one way b!
trained to behave in another. Neither by nature, then, nor contrariJ:
to nature do the virtues arise in us; rather we are adapted by nature to
2S receive them, and are made perfect by habit.!
Again) of all the things that come to us by nature we first acquire
the potentiality and later exhibit the activity (this is plain in the case
30 of the senses; for it was not by often seeing or often hearing that w~
got these senses, but on the contrary we had them before we used
them, and did not come to have them by using them); but the virtud”
we get by first exercising them, as also happens in the case of the ar~
as weII. For the things we have to learn before we can do them, w~
learn by doing them, e. g. men become builders by building and lyre:
11031) players by playing the lyre; so too we become just by doing just acts”
temperate by doing temperate acts, brave by doing brave acts,’
This is confirmed by what happens in states; for legislators mab
the citizens good by forming habits in them, and this is the wish of
S every legislator, and those who do not effect it miss their mark, and
it is in this that a good constitution differs from a bad one.
Again, it is from the same causes and by the same means that every
virtue is both produced and destroyed, and similarly every art; for it
is from playing the lyre that both good and bad lyre-players are pro
‘I
duced. And the corresponding statement is true of builders and of all
the rest; men will be good or bad builders as a result of building well 10 I
ior badly. For if this were not so~ there would have been no need of a
teacher, but all men would have been born good or bad at their craft. ,I
This, then, is the case with the virtues also; by doing the acts that ,~
we do in ou.· transactions with other men we become just or unjust, 15 I. i’
and by doing the acts that we do in the presence of danger,
and being habituated to feel fear or confidence, we become brave or
cowardly, The same is true of appetities and feelings of anger;
some men become temperate and good-tempered, others self-indulgent
and irascible, by behaving in one way or the other in the appropriate 20
circumstances. Thus, in one word, states of character arise out of like
activities. This is why the activities we exhibit must be of a certain
kind; it is because the states of character correspond to the differences
between these. It makes no small difference, then, whether we form
habits of one kind or of another from our very youth; it makes III very 25
great difference, or rather all the difference.
2 Since, then, the present inquiry does not aim at theoretical knowl
edge like the others (for we are inquiring not in order to know what
virtue is, but in order to become good, since otherwise our inquiry
would have been of no use), we must examine the nature of actions,
namely how we ought to do them; for these determine also the nature 30
of the states of characterthat are produced, as we have said.”! Now, that
we must act according to the right rule is a common principle and must
be assumed-it will be discussed later,2 i. e. both what the right rule
is, and how it is related to the other virtues. But this must be agreed lI04r
upon beforehand, that the whole account of matters of conduct must be
given in outline and not precisely, as we said at the very beginning 3
that the accounts we demand must be in accordance with the subject
matter; matters concerned with conduct and questions of what is good
for us have no fixity, any more than matters of health. The general 5
account being of this nature, the account of particular cases is yet more
lacking in exactness; for they do not fall under any art or precept but
the agents themselves must in each case consider what is appropmate
to the occasion, as happens also in the art of medicine or of navigation.
But though our present account is of this nature we must give what 10
help we can. First, then, let us consider this, that it is the nature of such
things to be destroyed by defect and excess, as we see in the case of
strength and of health (for to gain light on things imperceptible , ..e
must use the evidence of sensible things); both excessive and defective 15
Is 3IJ 25. 2 vi. 13. 3 l094b II-2 7.
954 NICOMACHEAN ETHICS [BK. II: CR.2
exercise de!!troys the strength, and similarly drink or food which is
above or below a certain amount destroys the health, while that which
is proportionate both produces and increases and preserves it. So too
20 is it, then, in the case of temperance and courage and the other virtues.
For the man who flies from md fears everything and does not stand his
ground against anything becomes a coward, and the man who fears
nothing at all but goes to meet every danger becomes rash; and simi
larly the man who indulges in every pleasure and abstains from none
becomes self-indulgent, while the man who shuns every pleasure, as
Z5 boors do, becomes in a way insensible; temperance and courage, then,
are destroyed by excess and defect, and preserved by the mean.
But not only are the sources and causes of their origination and
growth the same as those of their destruction, but also the sphere of
their actualization will be the same; for this is also true of the things
30 which are more evident to sense, e. g. of strength; it is produced by
taking much food and undergoing much exertion, and it is the strong
man that will be most able to do these things. So too is it with the
virtues; by abstaining from pleasures we become temperate, and it is
35 when we have become so that we are most able to abstain from them;
1104b and similarly too in the case of courage; for by being habituated to
despise things that are terrible and to stand our ground against them
we become brave, and it is when we have become so that we shall be
most able to stand our ground against them.
3 We must take as a sign of states of character the pleasure or pain
5 that ensues on acts; for the man who abstains from bodily pleasures
and delights in this very fact is temperate, while the man who is
annoyed at it is self-indulgent, and he who stands his ground against
things that are terrible and delights in this or at least is not pained is
brave, while the man who is pained is a coward. For moral excellence
is concerned with pleasures and pains; it is on account of the pleasure
10 that we do bad things, and on account of the pain that we abstain
from noble ones. Hence we ought to have been brought up in a particu
lar way from our very youth, as Plato says,4 so as both to delight in and
to be pained by the things that we ought; for this is the right education.
Again, if the virtues are concerned with actions and passions, and
every passion and every action is accompanied by pleasure and pain,
15 for this reason also virtue will be concerned with pleasures and pains.
This is indicated also by the fact that punishment is inflicted by these
means; for it is a kind of cure, and it is the nature of CUres to be effected
by contraries.
<4 lAws, 653 A If., Rep. 401 E-40:l It.
BK. II: CR. 3] NICOMACHEAN ETHICS 955
Again, as we said but lately,1i every state of soul has a nature relative
to and concerned with the kind of things by which it tends to be made 20
worse or better; but it is by reason of pleasures and pains that men
become bad, by pursuing and avoiding these-either the pleasures and
pains they ought not or when they ought not or as they ought not, or by
going wrong in one of the other similar ways that may be distinguished.
Hence men 6 even define the virtues as certain states of impassivity and 25
rest; not well, however, because they speak absolutely, and do not say
‘as one ought’ and ‘as one ought not’ and ‘when one ought or ought not’,
and the other things that may be added. We assume, then, that this
kind of excellence tends to do what is best with regard to pleasures and
pains, and vice does the contrary.
The following facts also may show us that virtue and vice are con
cerned with these same things. There being three objects of choice and 30
three of avoidance, the noble, the advantageous, the pleasant, and their
contraries, the base, the injurious, the painful, about all of these the
good man tends to go right and the bad man to go wrong, and especially
about pleasure; for this is common to the animals, and also it accom
panies all objects of choice; for even the noble and the advantageous 35
appear pleasant.
Again, it has grown up with us all from our infancy; this is why it 1105a
is difficult to rub off this passion, engrained as it is in our life. And we
measure even our actions, some of us more and others less, by the rule 5
of pleasure and pain. For this reason, then, our whole inquiry must
be about these; for to feel delight and pain rightly or wrongly has no
small effect on our actions.
Again, it is harder to fight with pleasure than with anger, to use
Heraclitus’ phrase, but both art and virtue are always concerned with
what is harder; for even the good is better when it is harder. Therefore 10
for this reason also the whole concern both of virtue and of political
science is with pleasures and pains; for the man who uses these well
will be good, he who uses them badly bad.
That virtue, then, is concerned with pleasures and pains, and that
by the acts from which it arises it is both increased and, if they are done
differently, destroyed, and that the acts from which it arose are those 15
in which it actualizes itself-let this be taken as said.
4 The question might be asked, what we mean by saying 7 that we
must become just by doing just acts, and temperate by doing temperate
acts; for if men do just and temperate acts, they are already just and
I} & 27-b 3.
6 Probably Speusippus is referred to. ~’noJ& 3I-b 25, II04″ 27-b 3.
951 956 NICOMACHEAN ETHICS [Bx. II: Cx.4
20 temperate, exactly as, if they do what is in accordance with the laws
of grammar and of music, they are grammarians and musicians.
Or is this not true even of the arts? It is possible to do something
that is in accordance with the laws of grammar, either by chance or at
the suggestion of another. A man will be a grammarian, then, only when
25 he has both done something grammatical and done it grammatically;
and this means doing it in accordance with the grammatical knowledge
in himself.
Again, the case of the arts and that of the virtues are not similar;
for the products of the arts have their goodness in themselves, so that
it is enough that they should have a certain character, but if the acts
that are in accordance with the virtues have themselves a certain
30 character it does not follow that they are done justly or temperately.
The agent also must be in a certain condition when he does them; in
the first place he must have knowledge, secondly he must choose the
acts, and choose them for their own sakes, and thirdly his action must
proceed from a firm and unchangeable character. These are not
reckoned in as conditions of the possession of the arts, except the
1l05
b
bare knowledge; but as a condition of the possession of the virtues
Knowledge has little or no weight, while the other conditions count
not for a little but for everything, i. e. the very conditions which
result from often doing just and temperate acts.
5 Actions, then, are called just and temperate when they are such as
the just or the temperate man would do; but it is not the man who does
these that is just and temperate, but the man who also does them as
just and temperate men do them. It is well said, then, that it is by
10 doing just acts that the just man is produced, and by doing temperate
acts the temperate man; without doing these no one would have even
a prospect of becoming good.
But most people do not do these, but take refuge in theory and
think they are being philosophers and will become good in this way,
15 behaving somewhat like patients who listen attentively to their doc
tors, but do none of the things they are ordered to do. As the latter
will not be made well in body by such a course of treatment, the
former will not be made well in soul by such a course of philosophy.
5 Next we must consider what virtue is. Since things that are found
20 in the soul are of three kinds-passions, faculties, states of character,
virtue must be one of these. By passions I mean appetite, anger, fear,
confidence, envy, joy, friendly feeling, hatred, longing, emulation, pity,
and in general the feelings that are accompanied by pleasure or pain;
by faculties the things in virtue of which we are said to be capable
,
Bx. II: Cx. 5] NICOMACHEAN ETHICS
of feeling these, e. g. of becoming angry or being pained or feeling
pity; by states of character the things in virtue of which we stand 25
well or badly with reference to the passions, e. g. with reference to
anger we stand badly if we feel it violently or too weakly, and well
if we feel it moderately; and similarly with reference to the other
passions.
Now neither the virtues nor the vices are passions, because we are
not called good or bad on the ground of our passions, but are so called so
on the ground of our virtues and our vices, and because we are neither
praised nor blamed for our passions (for the man who feels fear or
anger is not praised, nor is the man who simply feels anger blamed,
but the man who feels it in a certain way), but for our virtues and 1106′
our vices we are praised or blamed.
Again, we feel anger and fear without choice, but the virtues are
modes of choice or involve choice. Further, in respect of the passions
we are said to be moved, but in respect of the virtues and the vices S
we are said not to be moved but to be disposed in a particular way.
For these reasons also they are not faculties; for we are neither
called good nor bad, nor praised nor blamed, for the simple capacity
of feeling the passions; again, we have the faculties by nature, but
we are not made good or bad by nature; we have spoken of this
before.s
If, then, the virtues are neither passions nor faculties, all that re- 10
mains is that they should be states of character.
Thus we have stated what viltue is in respect of its genus.
6 We must, however, not only describe virtue as a state of character,
but also say what sort of state it is. We may remark, then, that every 15
virtue or excellence both brings into good condition the thing of which
it is the excellence and makes the work of that thing be done well;
e. g. the excellence of the eye makes both the eye and its work good:
for it is by the excellence of the eye that we see well. Similarly the
excellence of the horse makes a horse both good in itself and good at 20
running and at carrying its rider and at awaiting the attack of the
enemy. Therefore, if this is true in every case, the virtue of man also
will be the state of character which makes a man good and which
makes him do his own work well.
How this is to happen we have stated already,9 but it will be made
plain also by the following consideration of the specific nature of 25
vit~ue. In everything that is continuous and divisible it is possible to
rake more, less, or an equal amount, and that either in terms of the
8 lIOS” r8-b 2. 9 1I04″ II-27·
, 958 NICOMACHEAN ETHICS
I
thing itself or relatively to us; and the equal is an intermediate between
~ excess and defect. By the intermediate in the object I mean that which
30 is equidistant from each of the extremes, which is one and the same
for all men; by the intermediate relatively to us that which is neither
too much nor too littIe-and this is not one, nor the same for all.
11
For instance, if ten is many and two is few, six is the intermediate; ~
‘J taken in terms of the object; for it exceeds and is exceeded by an equal
J 35 amount; this is intermediate according to arithmetical proportion. But
the intermediate relatively to us is not to be taken so; if ten pounds
11061> are too much for a particular person to eat and two too little, it dDe$
not follow that the trainer will order six pounds; for this also is perhaps
too much for the person who is to take it, or too little-too little fot
5 Milo,10 too much for the beginner in athletic exercises. The same is true
of running and wrestling. Thus a master of any art avoids excess and
defect, but seeks the intermediate and chooses this-the intermediate
not in the object but relatively to us.
H it is thus, then, that every art does its work well-by looking to
the intermediate and judging its works by this standard (so that we
10 often say of good works of art that it is not possible either to take away
or to add anything, implying that excess and defect destroy the good
ness of works of art, while the mean preserves it; and good artists,
as we say, look to this in their work), and if, further, virtue is more
exact and better than any art, as nature also is, then virtue must have
15 the quality of aiming at the intermediate. I mean moral virtue; for it
is this that is concerned with passions and actions, and in these there
is excess, defect, and the intermediate. For instance, both fear and con
fidence and appetite and anger and pity and in general pleasure and
pain may be felt both too much and too little, and in both cases not
20 well; but to feel them at the right times, with reference to the right
objects, towards the right people, with the right motive, and in the
right way, is what is both intermediate and best, and this is character
istic of virtue. Similarly with regard to actions also there is excess,
defect, and the intermediate. Now virtue is concerned with passions
25 and actions, in which excess is a form of failure, and so is defect, while
the intermediate is praised and is a form of success; and being praised
and being successful are both characteristics of virtue. Therefore virtue
is a kind of mean, since, as we have seen, it aims at what is intermediate~
Again, it is possible to fail in many ways (for evil belongs to the
class of the unlimited, as the Pythagoreans con}ectured, and good to
30 that of the limited), while to succeed is possible only in one way (for
which reason also one is easy and the other difficult-to miss the mark
10 A famous wrestler.
~ I
Bx. II: ClIo 6] NICOMACHEAN ETHICS 959
easy, to hit it difficult); for these reasons also, then, excess and defect
are characteristic of vice, and the mean of virtue;
For men are good in but one way, but bad in many. 35
Virtue, then, is a state of character concerned with choice, lying in
a mean, i. e. the mean relative to us, this being determined by a rational 1107~
principle, and by that principle by which the man of practical wisdom
would determine it. Now it is a mean between two vices, that which
depends on excess and that which depends on defect; and again it is a
mean because the vices respectively faIl short of or exceed what is right
in both passions and actions, while virtue both finds and chooses that S
which is intermediate. Hence in respect of its substance and the defi
nition which states its essence virtue is a mean, with regard to what
is best and right an extreme.
But not every action nor every passion admits of a mean; for some
have names that already imply badness, e. g. spite, shamelessness, 10
envy, and in the case of actions adultery, theft, murder; for all of these
and suchlike things imply by their names that they are themselves bad.
and not the excesses or deficiencies of them. It is not possible, then,
ever to be right with regard to them; one must always be wrong. Nor
does goodness or badness with regard to such things depend on com- 15
mitting adultery with the right woman, at the right time, and in the
right way, but simply to do any of them is to go wrong. It would be
equally absurd, then, to expect that in unjust, cowardly, and voluptuous
action there should be a mean, an excess, and a deficiency; for at that 20
rate there would be a mean of excess and of deficiency, an excess of
excess, and a deficiency of deficiency. But as there is no excess and
deficiency of temperance and courage because what is intermediate
is in a sense an extreme, so too of the actions we have mentioned there
is no mean nor any excess and deficiency, but however they are done
they are wrong; for in general there is neither a mean of excess and 25
deficiency, nor excess and deficiency of a mean.
7 We must, hQwever, not only make this general statement, but aho
apply it to the individual facts. For among statements about conduct
those which are general apply more widely, but those which are par
ticular are more genuine, since conduct has to do with individual 30
cases, and our statements must harmonize with the facts in these cases.
We may take these cases from our table. With regard to feelings of
fear and confidence courage is the mean; of the people who exceed, 1107″
he who exceeds in fearlessness has no name (many of the states have
no name), while the man who exceeds in confidence is rash, and he who
961
960 NICOMACHEAN ETHICS
exceeds in fear and falls short in confidence is a coward. With regard
to pleasures and pains-not all of them, and not so much with regard
5 to the pains-the mean is temperance, the excess self-indulgence. Per
sons deficient with regard to the pleasures are not often found; hence
such persons also have received no name. But let us call them ‘insen
sible’.
With reg.ard to giving and taking of money the mean is liberality, the
10 excess and the defect prodigality and meanness. In these actions people
exceed and faU short in contrary ways; the prodigal exceeds in spending
and falls short in taking, while the mean man exceeds in taking and falls
short in spending. (At present weare giving a mere outIineor summary,
:is and are satisfied with this; later these states will be more exactly
determined.n) With regard to money there are also other dispositions
-a mean, magnificence (for the magnificent man differs from the
liberal man; the former deals with large sums, the latter with small
ones), an excess, tastelessness and “rolgarity, and a deficiency, nig
20 gardliness; these differ from the states opposed to liberality, and the
mode of their difference will be stated later.12
With regard to honour and dishonour the meJ.n is proper pride, the
excess is known as a sort of ’empty vanity’, and the deficiency is undue
humility; and as we said 13 liberality was related to magnificence,
25 differing from it by dealing with small sums, so there is a state simi
larly related to proper pride, being concerned with small honours while
that is concerned with great. For it is possible to desire honour as one
ought, and more than one ought, and less, and the man who exceeds
in his desires is called ambitious, the man who falls short unambitious,
30 while the intermediate person has no name. The dispositions also are
nameless, except that that of the ambitious man is called ambition.
Hence the people who are at the extremes lay claim to the middle place;
and we ourselves sometimes call the intermediate person ambitious
and sometimes unambitious, and sometimes praise the ambitious man
llQSa and sometimes the unambitious. The reason of our doing this will be
stated in what followS;14 but now let us speak of the remaining states
according to the method which has been indicated.
With regard to anger also there is an excess, a deficiency, and a
5 mean. Although they can scarcely be said to have names, yet since we
call the intermediate person good-tempered let us call the mean good
temper; of the persons at the extremes let the one who exceeds be
called irascible, and his vice irascibility, and the man who falls sbort
an inirascible sort of person, and the deficiency inirascibility.
,11 iv. t.
12 1122 &20-9,1> rO-IS. , Il1.11. f7~I9.
:1:4 b II-26, II25br4-,I8.
Ex:. II: Cx.7] NICOMACHEAN ETHICS
There are also three other means, which have a certain likeness to
one another, but differ from one another: for they are all concerned 10
with intercourse in words and actions, but differ in that one is con
cerned with truth in this sphere, the other two with pleasantness; and
of this one kinJ is exhibited in giving amusement, the other in all the
circumstances of life. We must therefore speak of these too, that we
may the better see that in all things the mean is praiseworthy, and 15
the extremes neither praiseworthy nor right, but worthy of blame.
Now most of these states also have no names, but we must try, as in
the other cases, to invent names ourselves so that we may be clear and
easy to follow. With regard to truth, then, the intermediate is a truthful 20
sort of person and the mean may be called truthfulness, while the
pretence which exaggerates is boastfulness and the person character
ized by it a boaster, and that which understates is mock modesty and
the person characterized by it mock-modest. With regard to pleasant
ness in the giving of amusement the intermediate person is ready
witted and the disposition ready wit, the excess is buffoonery and the
person characterized by it a buffoon, while the man who falls short 25
is a sort of boor and his state is boorishness. With regard to the remain
ing kind of pleasantness, that which is exhibited in life in general,
the man who is pleasant in the right way is friendly and the mean is
friendliness, while the man who exceeds is an obsequious person if he
has no end in view, a flatterer if he is aiming at his own advantage,
and the man who falls short and is unpleasant in all circumstances
is a quarrelsome and surly sort of person.
There are also means in the passions and concerned with the pas- 30
sions; since shame is not a virtue, and yet praise is extended to the
modest man. For even in these matters one man is said to be inter
mediate, and another to exceed, as for instance the bashful man who
is ashamed of everything; while he who falls short or is not ashamed
of anything at all is shameless, and the intermediate person is modest.
Righteous indignation is a mean between envy and spite, and these 35
states are concerned with the pain and pleasures that are felt at the 1108′”
fortunes of our neighbours; the man who is characterized by righteous
indignation is pained at undeserved good fortune, the envious man,
goin~ beyond him, is pained at all good fortune, and the spiteful man 5
falls so far short of being pained that he even rejoices. But these states
there will be an opportunity of describing elsewhere;15 with regard
lIS The reference may be to the whole treatment of the moral virtues in iii. 6-iv.
9, or to the discussion of shame in iv. 9 and an intended corresponding discussion
of righteous indignation, or to the discussion of these two states in Rhd. ii. 6,
9,10.
http:later.12
1
I
I
I
;
~.
962 NICOMACHEAN ETHICS [Bx:. II; CR. 7
to justice, since it has not one simple meaning, we shall, after describing
the other states, distinguish its two kinds and say how each of them
10 is a mean; 10 and similarly we shall treat also of the rational virtues.1T
8 There are three kinds of disposition, then, two of them vices,
involving excess and deficiency respectively, and one a virtue, viz.
the mean, and all are in a sense opposed to all; for the extreme states
are contrary both to the intermediate state and to each other, and the
15 intermediate to the extremes; as the equal is greater relatively to the
less, less relatively to the greater, so the middle states are excessive
relatively to the deficiencies, deficient relatively to the excesses, both
in passions and in actions. For the brave man appears rash relatively
20 to the coward, and cowardly relatively to the rash man; and similarly
the temperate man appears self-indulgent relatively to the insensible
man, insensible relatively to the self-indulgent, and the liberal man
prodigal relatively to the mean man, mean relatively to the prodigal.
Hence also the people at the extremes push the intermediate man
each over to the other, and the brave man is called rash by the coward,
25 cowardly by the rash man, and correspondingly in the other cases.
These states being thus opposed to one another, the greatest con
trariety is that of the extremes to each other, rather than to the
intermediate; for these are further from each other than from the
intermediate, as the great is further from the small and the small
30 from the great than both are from the equal. Again, to the inter
mediate some extremes show a certain likeness, as that of rashness
to courage and that of prodigality to liberality; but the extremes show
the greatest unlikeness to each other; now contraries are defined as
the things that are furthest from each other, so that things that are
35 further apart are more contrary.
1109″ To the mean in some cases the deficiency, in some the excess is
more opposed; e. g. it is not rashness, which is an excess, but
cowardice, which is a deficiency, that is more opposed to courage,
and not insensibility, which is a deficiency, but self-indulgence, which
5 is an excess, that is more opposed to temperance. This happens from
two reasons, one being drawn from the thing itself; for because one
extreme is nearer and liker to the intermediate, we Oppose not this
but rather its contrary to the intermediate. E. g., since rashness is
thought liker and nearer to courage, and cowardice more unlike, we
1·:’ oppose rather the latter to courage; for things that are further from
the intermediate are thought more contrary to it. This, then, is one
16 II29″ :a6..1> I, 1I30· 14..1> $, II3Ib 9-15, IIJ2& 24-30 , 1I33b 30-1 134″ I.J7 Bk. vj,. .
j§l-
Bx:. II: CR. 8] NICOMACHEAN ETHICS 963
cause, drawn from the thing itself; another is drawn from ourselves;
for the things to which we ourselves more naturally tend seem more
contrary to the intermediate. For instance, we ourselves tend more 15
naturally to pleasures, and hence are more easily carried away towards
self-indulgence than towards propriety. We describe as contrary to the
mean, then, rather the directions in which we more often go to great
lengths; and therefore self-indulgence, which is an excess, is the more
contrary to temperance.
9 That moral virtue is a mean, then, and in what sense it is so, and 20
that it is a mean between two vices, the one involving excess, the other
deficiency, and that it is such because its character is to aim at what
is intermediate in passions and in actions, has been sufficiently stated.
Hence also it is no easy task to be good. For in everything it is no
:
;easy task to find the middle, e. g. to find the middle of a circle is not 2S
for everyone but for him who knows; so, too, anyone can get angry
-that is easy-or give or spend money; but to do this to the right
person, to the right extent, at the right time, with the right motive, I;
,
and in the right way, that is not for everyone, nor is it easy; where I
fore goodness is both rare and laudable and noble. I,
Hence he who aims at the intermediate must first depart from what 30
i
Ii
is the more contrary to it, as Calypso advises– Ii
Hold the ship out beyond that surf and spray.18
Ii
For of the extremes one is more erroneous, one less so; therefore,
since to hit the mean is hard in the extreme, we must as a second Ii
best, as people say, take the least of the evils; and this will be done 35
best in the way we describe. II
But we must consider the things towards which we ourselves also 110911 Ii
are easily carried away; for some of us tend to one thing, some to I
‘Ianother; and this will be recognizable from the pleasure and the pain
we feel. We must drag ourselves away to the contrary extreme; for 5 Iii
we shall get into the intermediate state by drawing well away from iii
error, as people do in straightening sticks that are bent. i
!I IINow in everything the pleasant or pleasure is most to be guarded I
against; for we do not judge it impartially. We ought, then, to feel Ii
towards pleasure as the elders of the people felt towards Helen, and
in all circumstances repeat their saying;19 for if we dismiss pleasure 10
180d. xii. :219 f. (Mackail’s trans.). But it was Circe who gave the advice (xii.
I08), and the actual quotation is from Odysseus’ orden to his steersman.
19 11. iii. 156-60.
http:spray.18
http:virtues.1T
964
,,
NICOMACHEAN ETHICS
thus we are less likely to go astray. It is by doing this, then, (to sum
the matter up) that we shall best be able to hit the mean.
But this is no doubt difficult, and especially in individual cases;
15 for it is not easy to determine both how and with whom and on what
provocation and how long one should be angry; for we too sometimes
praise those who fall short and call them good-tempered, but some
times we praise those who get angry and call them’manly. The man”
however, who deviates little from goodness is not blamed, whether
he do so in the direction of the more or of the less, but only the man
who deviates more widely; for he does not fail to be noticed. But up
20 to what point and to what extent a man must deviate before he
becomes blameworthy it is not easy to determine by reasoning, any
more than anything else that is perceived by the senses; such things
depend on particular facts, and the decision rests with perception.
So much, then, is plain, that the intermediate state is in all things
25 to be praised, but that we must incline sometimes towards the excess,
sometimes towards the deficiency; for so shall we most easily hit the
mean and what is right.
BOOK III
.30 1 Since virtue is concerned with passions and actions, and on volun
tary passions and actions praise and blame are bestowed, on those
that are involuntary pardon, and sometimes also pity, to distinguish
the voluntary and the involuntary is presumably necessary for those
who are studying the nature of virtue, and useful also for legislators
with a view to the assigning both of honours and of punishments.
35 Those things, then, are thought involuntary, which take place
UlQa under compulsion or owing to ignorance; and that is compulsory of
which the moving principle is outside, being a principle in which noth
ing is contributed by the person who is acting or is feeling the passion,
e. g. if he were to he carried somewhere by a wind, or by men who
had him in their power.
But with regard to the things that are done from fear of greater
5 evils or for some noble object (e. g. if a tyrant were to order one to
do something base, having one’s parents and children in his power,
and if one did the action they were to be saved, but otherwise would
be put to death), it may Ut debated whether such actions are involun
tary or voluntary. Something of the sort happens also with regard to
the throwing of goods overboard in a storm; for in the abstract no
wone throws goods away voluntarily, but on condition of its securing
BK.III:CH.l] NICOMACHEAN E.THICS 965
the safety of himself and his crew any sensible man does so. Such
actions, then, are mixed, but are more like voluntary actions; for they
are worthy of choice at the time when they are done, and the end of
an action is relative to the occasion. Both the terms, then, ‘voluntary’
and ‘involuntary’, must be used with reference to the moment of
action. Now the man acts voluntarily; for the principle that moves 15
the instrumental parts of the body in such actions is in him, and the
things of which the moving principle is in a man himself are in his
power to do or not to do. Such actions, therefore, are voh.ntary,
but in the ahstract perhaps involuntary; for no one would choose
any such act in itself.
For such actions men are sometimes even praised, when they 20
endure something base or painful in return for great and noble objects
gained; in the opposite case they are blamed, since to endure the
greatest indignities for no noble end or for a trifling end is the mark
of an inferior person. On some actions praise indeed is not bestowed,
but pardon is, when one does what he ought not under pressure which 25
overstrains human nature and which no one could withstand. But
some acts, perhaps, we cannot be forced to do, but ought rather to
face death after the most fearful sufferings; for the things that ‘forced’
Euripides’ AIcmaeon to slay his mother seem absurd. It is difficul~
sometimes to determine what should be chosen at what cost, and what
should be endured in return for what gain, and yet more difficult to 30
abide by our decisions; for as a rule what is expected is painful, and
what we are forced to do is base, whence praise and blame are be
stowed on those who have been compelled or have not.
What sort of acts, then, should be called compulsory? We answer Ul()b
that without qualification actions are so when the cause is in the
external circumstances and the agent contributes nothing. But the
things that in themselves are involuntary, but now and in return
for these gains are worthy of choice, and whose moving principle
is in the agent, are in themselves involuntary, but now and in return 5
for these gains voluntary. They are more like voluntary acts; for
actions are in the class of particulars, and the particular acts here
are voluntary. What sort of things are to be chosen, and in return
for what, it is not easy to state; for there are many differences in
the particular cases.
But if some one were to say that pleasant and noble objects have
a compelling power, forcing us from without, all acts would be for
him compulsory; for it is for these objects that all men do every- 10
thing they do. And those who act under compulsion and unwillingly
The Basic Works of
ARISTOTLE
EDITED JND WITH .AN INTRODUCTION BY
RICHARD McKEON
Dean of the Division of the Humanities, Utdve1’sit) of Chicagt’
Kunsthistorisches Museum. Vienna. RANDOM HOUSE· NEW YORK
ARISTOTLE
‘!”wentY-Third Printing, November 1:971:
COPYRTGHT, J94J, BY RANDOM HOUB, mc.
BY ARRANGEMENT WITH THE OXl!’ORD UNlVEJISITY PBUS
“MANUFACTURED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMEIUCA