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Book 2
1
Virtue, then, being of two kinds, intellectual and moral,
intellectual
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 variation from the word ethos (habit). From this
it
is also plain that none of the moral virtues arises in us by nature; for
nothing that exists by nature can form a habit contrary to its nature.
For instance the stone which by nature moves downwards cannot be
habituated to move upwards, not even if one tries to train it by
throwing it up ten thousand times; nor can fire be habituated to move
downwards, nor can anything else that by nature behaves in one way be
trained to behave in another. Neither by nature, then, nor contrary to
nature do the virtues arise in us; rather we are adapted by nature to
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
of the senses; for it was not by often seeing or often hearing that we
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 virtues we get by
first exercising them, as also happens in the case of the arts as well.
For the things we have to learn before we can do them, we learn by doing
them, e.g. men become builders by building and lyre-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 make the
citizens good by forming habits in them, and this is the wish of 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
produced. 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
or 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.
This, then, is the case with the virtues also; by doing the acts that we
do in our transactions with other men we become just or unjust, 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 appetites 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 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 a very great difference, or
rather all the difference.
2
Since, then, the present inquiry does not aim at theoretical knowledge
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 of the states of
character that 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, i.e. both what the right rule is, and how it is
related to the other virtues. But this must be agreed 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 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 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 appropriate 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 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 we
must use the evidence of sensible things); both excessive and defective
exercise destroys the strength, and similarly drink or food which is
above or below a certain amount destroys the health, while that which is
proportionate both produces and increases and preserves it. So too is
it, then, in the case of temperance and courage and the other virtues.
For the man who flies from and fears everything and does not stand his
ground against anything becomes a coward, and the man who fears nothing
at all but goes to meet every danger becomes rash; and similarly the man
who indulges in every pleasure and abstains from none becomes
self-indulgent, while the man who shuns every pleasure, as boors do,
becomes in a way insensible; temperance and courage, then, are destroyed
by excess and defect, and preserved by the mean.
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
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
when we have become so that we are most able to abstain from them; 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 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
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 particular way
from our very youth, as Plato says, 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, 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.
Again, as we said but lately, every state of soul has a nature relative
to and concerned with the kind of things by which it tends to be made
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 even define the virtues as certain states of impassivity and
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 concerned
with these same things. There being three objects of choice and 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
accompanies all objects of choice; for even the noble and the
advantageous appear pleasant.
Again, it has grown up with us all from our infancy; this is why it 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 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 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
in which it actualizes itself- let this be taken as said.
4
The question might be asked, what we mean by saying 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 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
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
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 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.
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 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, behaving
somewhat like patients who listen attentively to their doctors, 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 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 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 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 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 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 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. If, then, the
virtues are neither passions nor faculties, all that remains is that
they should be states of character.
Thus we have stated what virtue 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
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
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, but it will be made plain
also by the following consideration of the specific nature of virtue. In
everything that is continuous and divisible it is possible to take more,
less, or an equal amount, and that either in terms of the 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 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 little- and this is not one, nor the same for all. For instance,
if ten is many and two is few, six is the intermediate, taken in terms
of the object; for it exceeds and is exceeded by an equal amount; this
is intermediate according to arithmetical proportion. But the
intermediate relatively to us is not to be taken so; if ten pounds are
too much for a particular person to eat and two too little, it does 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 for
Milo, 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.
If 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
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
goodness 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
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
confidence 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
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
characteristic of virtue. Similarly with regard to actions also there is
excess, defect, and the intermediate. Now virtue is concerned with
passions 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 conjectured, and good to
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
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.
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
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 fall short of or exceed what is
right in both passions and actions, while virtue both finds and chooses
that which is intermediate. Hence in respect of its substance and the
definition 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, 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 committing
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 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 deficiency, nor excess
and deficiency of a mean.
7
We must, however, not only make this general statement, but also apply
it to the individual facts. For among statements about conduct those
which are general apply more widely, but those which are particular are
more genuine, since conduct has to do with individual 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, 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 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 to the pains- the
mean is temperance, the excess self-indulgence. Persons deficient with
regard to the pleasures are not often found; hence such persons also
have received no name. But let us call them 'insensible'.
With regard to giving and taking of money the mean is liberality, the
excess and the defect prodigality and meanness. In these actions people
exceed and fall 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 we are giving a mere outline or
summary, and are satisfied with this; later these states will be more
exactly determined.) 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 vulgarity, and a deficiency,
niggardliness; these differ from the states opposed to liberality, and
the mode of their difference will be stated later. With regard to honour
and dishonour the mean is proper pride, the excess is known as a sort of
'empty vanity', and the deficiency is undue humility; and as we said
liberality was related to magnificence, differing from it by dealing
with small sums, so there is a state similarly 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, 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 and sometimes the unambitious. The
reason of our doing this will be stated in what follows; 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 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 short an inirascible
sort of person, and the deficiency inirascibility.
There are also three other means, which have a certain likeness to one
another, but differ from one another: for they are all concerned with
intercourse in words and actions, but differ in that one is concerned
with truth in this sphere, the other two with pleasantness; and of this
one kind 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 praise-worthy, and 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 sort
of person and the mean may be called truthfulness, while the pretence
which exaggerates is boastfulness and the person characterized by it a
boaster, and that which understates is mock modesty and the person
characterized by it mock-modest. With regard to pleasantness 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 is a sort
of boor and his state is boorishness. With regard to the remaining 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 passions;
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 intermediate, 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 states are
concerned with the pain and pleasure that are felt at the fortunes of
our neighbours; the man who is characterized by righteous indignation is
pained at undeserved good fortune, the envious man, going beyond him, is
pained at all good fortune, and the spiteful man falls so far short of
being pained that he even rejoices. But these states there will be an
opportunity of describing elsewhere; with regard 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 is a mean; and
similarly we shall treat also of the rational virtues.
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 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 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,
cowardly by the rash man, and correspondingly in the other cases.
These states being thus opposed to one another, the greatest contrariety
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 from the great than both
are from the equal. Again, to the intermediate 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 further apart are more contrary.
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 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 oppose rather the
latter to courage; for things that are further from the intermediate are
thought more contrary to it. This, then, is one 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 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 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 for every one but for him who knows; so, too, any one 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,
and in the right way, that is not for every one, nor is it easy;
wherefore goodness is both rare and laudable and noble.
Hence he who aims at the intermediate must first depart from what is the
more contrary to it, as Calypso advises-
Hold the ship out beyond that surf and spray.
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 best, as
people say, take the least of the evils; and this will be done best in
the way we describe. But we must consider the things towards which we
ourselves also are easily carried away; for some of us tend to one
thing, some to another; and this will be recognizable from the pleasure
and the pain we feel. We must drag ourselves away to the contrary
extreme; for we shall get into the intermediate state by drawing well
away from error, as people do in straightening sticks that are bent.
Now in everything the pleasant or pleasure is most to be guarded
against; for we do not judge it impartially. We ought, then, to feel
towards pleasure as the elders of the people felt towards Helen, and in
all circumstances repeat their saying; for if we dismiss pleasure 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; 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 sometimes
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 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 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.
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