THE ETHICS OF ARISTOTLE

THE ETHICS OF ARISTOTLE

BOOK II

Well: human Excellence is of two kinds, Intellectual and Moral: now the

Intellectual springs originally, and is increased subsequently, from

teaching (for the most part that is), and needs therefore experience

and time; whereas the Moral comes from custom, and so the Greek term

denoting it is but a slight deflection from the term denoting custom in

that language.

From this fact it is plain that not one of the Moral Virtues comes to be

in us merely by nature: because of such things as exist by nature, none

can be changed by custom: a stone, for instance, by nature gravitating

downwards, could never by custom be brought to ascend, not even if one

were to try and accustom it by throwing it up ten thousand times; nor

could file again be brought to descend, nor in fact could anything whose

nature is in one way be brought by custom to be in another. The Virtues

then come to be in us neither by nature, nor in despite of nature, but

we are furnished by nature with a capacity for receiving themu and are

perfected in them through custom.

Again, in whatever cases we get things by nature, we get the faculties

first and perform the acts of working afterwards; an illustration of

which is afforded by the case of our bodily senses, for it was not

from having often seen or heard that we got these senses, but just

the reverse: we had them and so exercised them, but did not have

them because we had exercised them. But the Virtues we get by first

performing single acts of working, which, again, is the case of other

things, as the arts for instance; for what we have to make when we

have learned how, these we learn how to make by making: men come to be

builders, for instance, by building; harp-players, by playing on the

harp: exactly so, by doing just actions we come to be just; by doing the

actions of self-mastery we come to be perfected in self-mastery; and by

doing brave actions brave.

And to the truth of this testimony is borne by what takes place in

communities: because the law-givers make the individual members good men

by habituation, and this is the intention certainly of every law-giver,

and all who do not effect it well fail of their intent; and herein

consists the difference between a good Constitution and a bad.

Again, every Virtue is either produced or destroyed from and by the very

same circumstances: art too in like manner; I mean it is by playing

the harp that both the good and the bad harp-players are formed: and

similarly builders and all the rest; by building well men will become

good builders; by doing it badly bad ones: in fact, if this had not been

so, there would have been no need of instructors, but all men would have

been at once good or bad in their several arts without them.

So too then is it with the Virtues: for by acting in the various

relations in which we are thrown with our fellow men, we come to be,

some just, some unjust: and by acting in dangerous positions and being

habituated to feel fear or confidence, we come to be, some brave, others

cowards.

Similarly is it also with respect to the occasions of lust and anger:

for some men come to be perfected in self-mastery and mild, others

destitute of all self-control and passionate; the one class by behaving

in one way under them, the other by behaving in another. Or, in one

word, the habits are produced from the acts of working like to them: and

so what we have to do is to give a certain character to these particular

acts, because the habits formed correspond to the differences of these.

So then, whether we are accustomed this way or that straight from

childhood, makes not a small but an important difference, or rather I

would say it makes all the difference.

II

Since then the object of the present treatise is not mere speculation,

as it is of some others (for we are inquiring not merely that we may

know what virtue is but that we may become virtuous, else it would have

been useless), we must consider as to the particular actions how we are

to do them, because, as we have just said, the quality of the habits

that shall be formed depends on these.

Now, that we are to act in accordance with Right Reason is a general

maxim, and may for the present be taken for granted: we will speak of it

hereafter, and say both what Right Reason is, and what are its relations

to the other virtues.

But let this point be first thoroughly understood between us, that all

which can be said on moral action must be said in outline, as it were,

and not exactly: for as we remarked at the commencement, such reasoning

only must be required as the nature of the subject-matter admits of, and

matters of moral action and expediency have no fixedness any more than

matters of health. And if the subject in its general maxims is such,

still less in its application to particular cases is exactness

attainable: because these fall not under any art or system of rules, but

it must be left in each instance to the individual agents to look to the

exigencies of the particular case, as it is in the art of healing,

or that of navigating a ship. Still, though the present subject is

confessedly such, we must try and do what we can for it.

First then this must be noted, that it is the nature of such things to

be spoiled by defect and excess; as we see in the case of health and

strength (since for the illustration of things which cannot be seen we

must use those that can), for excessive training impairs the strength as

well as deficient: meat and drink, in like manner, in too great or too

small quantities, impair the health: while in due proportion they cause,

increase, and preserve it.

Thus it is therefore with the habits of perfected Self-Mastery and

Courage and the rest of the Virtues: for the man who flies from and

fears all things, and never stands up against anything, comes to be a

coward; and he who fears nothing, but goes at everything, comes to be

rash. In like manner too, he that tastes of every pleasure and abstains

from none comes to lose all self-control; while he who avoids all, as

do the dull and clownish, comes as it were to lose his faculties of

perception: that is to say, the habits of perfected Self-Mastery and

Courage are spoiled by the excess and defect, but by the mean state are

preserved.

Furthermore, not only do the origination, growth, and marring of the

habits come from and by the same circumstances, but also the acts of

working after the habits are formed will be exercised on the same: for

so it is also with those other things which are more directly matters of

sight, strength for instance: for this comes by taking plenty of food

and doing plenty of work, and the man who has attained strength is best

able to do these: and so it is with the Virtues, for not only do we by

abstaining from pleasures come to be perfected in Self-Mastery, but when

we have come to be so we can best abstain from them: similarly too with

Courage: for it is by accustoming ourselves to despise objects of fear

and stand up against them that we come to be brave; and after we have come

 to be so we shall be best able to stand up

against such objects.

III

And for a test of the formation of the habits we must

take the pleasure or pain which succeeds the acts; for he is perfected

in Self-Mastery who not only abstains from the bodily pleasures but is

glad to do so; whereas he who abstains but is sorry to do it has not

Self-Mastery: he again is brave who stands up against danger, either

with positive pleasure or at least without any pain; whereas he who does

it with pain is not brave.

For Moral Virtue has for its object-matter pleasures and pains, because

by reason of pleasure we do what is bad, and by reason of pain decline

doing what is right (for which cause, as Plato observes, men should have

been trained straight from their childhood to receive pleasure and pain

from proper objects, for this is the right education). Again: since

Virtues have to do with actions and feelings, and on every feeling and

every action pleasure and pain follow, here again is another proof that

Virtue has for its object-matter pleasure and pain. The same is

shown also by the fact that punishments are effected through the

instrumentality of these; because they are of the nature of remedies,

and it is the nature of remedies to be the contraries of the ills they

cure. Again, to quote what we said before: every habit of the Soul by

its very nature has relation to, and exerts itself upon, things of the

same kind as those by which it is naturally deteriorated or improved:

now such habits do come to be vicious by reason of pleasures and pains,

that is, by men pursuing or avoiding respectively, either such as they

ought not, or at wrong times, or in wrong manner, and so forth (for

which reason, by the way, some people define the Virtues as certain

states of impassibility and utter quietude, but they are wrong because

they speak without modification, instead of adding "as they ought," "as

they ought not," and "when," and so on). Virtue then is assumed to be

that habit which is such, in relation to pleasures and pains, as to

effect the best results, and Vice the contrary.

The following considerations may also serve to set this in a clear

light. There are principally three things moving us to choice and three

to avoidance, the honourable, the expedient, the pleasant; and their

three contraries, the dishonourable, the hurtful, and the painful: now

the good man is apt to go right, and the bad man wrong, with respect

to all these of course, but most specially with respect to pleasure:

because not only is this common to him with all animals but also it is

a concomitant of all those things which move to choice, since both the

honourable and the expedient give an impression of pleasure.

Again, it grows up with us all from infancy, and so it

is a hard matter to remove from ourselves this feeling, engrained as it

is into our very life.

Again, we adopt pleasure and pain (some of us more, and some less) as

the measure even of actions: for this cause then our whole business must

be with them, since to receive right or wrong impressions of pleasure

and pain is a thing of no little importance in respect of the actions.

Once more; it is harder, as Heraclitus says, to fight against pleasure

than against anger: now it is about that which is more than commonly

difficult that art comes into being, and virtue too, because in that

which is difficult the good is of a higher order: and so for this

reason too both virtue and moral philosophy generally must wholly busy

themselves respecting pleasures and pains, because he that uses these

well will be good, he that does so ill will be bad.

Let us then be understood to have stated, that Virtue has for its

object-matter pleasures and pains, and that it is either increased or

marred by the same circumstances (differently used) by which it

is originally generated, and that it exerts itself on the same

circumstances out of which it was generated.

IV

Now I can conceive a person perplexed as to the meaning of our

statement, that men must do just actions to become just, and those of

self-mastery to acquire the habit of self-mastery; "for," he would say,

"if men are doing the actions they have the respective virtues already,

just as men are grammarians or musicians when they do the actions of

either art." May we not reply by saying that it is not so even in the

case of the arts referred to: because a man may produce something

grammatical either by chance or the suggestion of another; but then only

will he be a grammarian when he not only produces something grammatical

but does so grammarian-wise, _i.e._ in virtue of the grammatical

knowledge he himself possesses.

Again, the cases of the arts and the virtues are not parallel: because

those things which are produced by the arts have their excellence in

themselves, and it is sufficient therefore that these

when produced should be in a certain state: but those which are produced

in the way of the virtues, are, strictly speaking, actions of a certain

kind (say of Justice or perfected Self-Mastery), not merely if in

themselves they are in a certain state but if also he who does them

does them being himself in a certain state, first if knowing what he is

doing, next if with deliberate preference, and with such preference for

the things' own sake; and thirdly if being himself stable and unapt to

change. Now to constitute possession of the arts these requisites are

not reckoned in, excepting the one point of knowledge: whereas for

possession of the virtues knowledge avails little or nothing, but the

other requisites avail not a little, but, in fact, are all in all, and

these requisites as a matter of fact do come from oftentimes doing the

actions of Justice and perfected Self-Mastery.

The facts, it is true, are called by the names of these habits when they

are such as the just or perfectly self-mastering man would do; but he is

not in possession of the virtues who merely does these facts, but he who

also so does them as the just and self-mastering do them.

We are right then in saying, that these virtues are formed in a man by

his doing the actions; but no one, if he should leave them undone, would

be even in the way to become a good man. Yet people in general do not

perform these actions, but taking refuge in talk they flatter themselves

they are philosophising, and that they will so be good men: acting in

truth very like those sick people who listen to the doctor with great

attention but do nothing that he tells them: just as these then cannot

be well bodily under such a course of treatment, so neither can those be

mentally by such philosophising.

Next, we must examine what Virtue is. Well, since the

things which come to be in the mind are, in all, of three kinds,

Feelings, Capacities, States, Virtue of course must belong to one of the

three classes.

By Feelings, I mean such as lust, anger, fear, confidence, envy, joy,

friendship, hatred, longing, emulation, compassion, in short all such as

are followed by pleasure or pain: by Capacities, those in right of which

we are said to be capable of these feelings; as by virtue of which we

are able to have been made angry, or grieved, or to have compassionated;

by States, those in right of which we are in a certain relation good

or bad to the aforementioned feelings; to having been made angry, for

instance, we are in a wrong relation if in our anger we were too violent

or too slack, but if we were in the happy medium we are in a right

relation to the feeling. And so on of the rest.

Now Feelings neither the virtues nor vices are, because in right of the

Feelings we are not denominated either good or bad, but in right of the

virtues and vices we are.

Again, in right of the Feelings we are neither

praised nor blamed (for a man is not commended for being afraid or

being angry, nor blamed for being angry merely but for being so in a

particular way), but in right of the virtues and vices we are.

Again, both anger and fear we feel without moral choice, whereas the

virtues are acts of moral choice, or at least certainly not independent

of it.

Moreover, in right of the Feelings we are said to be moved, but in right

of the virtues and vices not to be moved, but disposed, in a certain

way.

And for these same reasons they are not Capacities, for we are not

called good or bad merely because we are able to feel, nor are we

praised or blamed.

And again, Capacities we have by nature, but we do not come to be good

or bad by nature, as we have said before.

Since then the virtues are neither Feelings nor Capacities, it remains

that they must be States.

VI

Now what the genus of Virtue is has been said; but we

must not merely speak of it thus, that it is a state but say also what

kind of a state it is. We must observe then that all excellence makes

that whereof it is the excellence both to be itself in a good state and

to perform its work well. The excellence of the eye, for instance, makes

both the eye good and its work also: for by the excellence of the eye

we see well. So too the excellence of the horse makes a horse good, and

good in speed, and in carrying his rider, and standing up against the

enemy. If then this is universally the case, the excellence of Man, i.e.

Virtue, must be a state whereby Man comes to be good and whereby he will

perform well his proper work. Now how this shall be it is true we have

said already, but still perhaps it may throw light on the subject to see

what is its characteristic nature.

In all quantity then, whether continuous or discrete, one may take the

greater part, the less, or the exactly equal, and these either with

reference to the thing itself, or relatively to us: and the exactly

equal is a mean between excess and defect. Now by the mean of the thing,

_i.e._ absolute mean, I denote that which is equidistant from either

extreme (which of course is one and the same to all), and by the mean

relatively to ourselves, that which is neither too much nor too little

for the particular individual. This of course is not one nor the same to

all: for instance, suppose ten is too much and two too little, people

take six for the absolute mean; because it exceeds the smaller sum by

exactly as much as it is itself exceeded by the larger, and this mean is

according to arithmetical proportion.

But the mean relatively to ourselves must not be

so found ; for it does not follow, supposing ten minæ is too large a

quantity to eat and two too small, that the trainer will order his man

six; because for the person who is to take it this also may be too much

or too little: for Milo it would be too little, but for a man just

commencing his athletic exercises too much: similarly too of the

exercises themselves, as running or wrestling.

So then it seems every one possessed of skill avoids excess and defect,

but seeks for and chooses the mean, not the absolute but the relative.

Now if all skill thus accomplishes well its work by keeping an eye on

the mean, and bringing the works to this point (whence it is common

enough to say of such works as are in a good state, "one cannot add

to or take ought from them," under the notion of excess or defect

destroying goodness but the mean state preserving it), and good

artisans, as we say, work with their eye on this, and excellence, like

nature, is more exact and better than any art in the world, it must have

an aptitude to aim at the mean.

It is moral excellence, _i.e._ Virtue, of course which I mean, because

this it is which is concerned with feelings and actions, and in these

there can be excess and defect and the mean: it is possible, for

instance, to feel the emotions of fear, confidence, lust, anger,

compassion, and pleasure and pain generally, too much or too little,

and in either case wrongly; but to feel them when we ought, on what

occasions, towards whom, why, and as, we should do, is the mean, or in

other words the best state, and this is the property of Virtue.

In like manner too with respect to the actions, there may be excess and

defect and the mean. Now Virtue is concerned with feelings and actions,

in which the excess is wrong and the defect is blamed but the mean is

praised and goes right; and both these circumstances belong to Virtue.

Virtue then is in a sense a mean state, since it certainly has an

aptitude for aiming at the mean.

Again, one may go wrong in many different ways (because, as the

Pythagoreans expressed it, evil is of the class of the infinite, good

of the finite), but right only in one; and so the former is easy, the

latter difficult; easy to miss the mark, but hard to hit it: and for

these reasons, therefore, both the excess and defect belong to Vice, and

the mean state to Virtue; for, as the poet has it,

  "Men may be bad in many ways,

  But good in one alone."

Virtue then is "a state apt to exercise deliberate choice, being in the

relative mean, determined by reason, and as the man of practical wisdom

would determine."

It is a middle state between too faulty ones, in the way of excess on

one side and of defect on the other: and it is so moreover, because the

faulty states on one side fall short of, and those on the other exceed,

what is right, both in the case of the feelings and the actions; but

Virtue finds, and when found adopts, the mean.

And so, viewing it in respect of its essence and definition, Virtue is a

mean state; but in reference to the chief good and to excellence it is

the highest state possible.

But it must not be supposed that every action or every feeling is

capable of subsisting in this mean state, because some there are

which are so named as immediately to convey the notion of badness, as

malevolence, shamelessness, envy; or, to instance in actions, adultery,

theft, homicide; for all these and suchlike are blamed because they are

in themselves bad, not the having too much or too little of them.

In these then you never can go right, but must always be wrong: nor in

such does the right or wrong depend on the selection of a proper person,

time, or manner (take adultery for instance), but simply doing any one

soever of those things is being wrong.

You might as well require that there should be determined a mean state,

an excess and a defect in respect of acting unjustly, being cowardly, or

giving up all control of the passions: for at this rate there will be

of excess and defect a mean state; of excess, excess; and of defect,

defect.

But just as of perfected self-mastery and courage there is no excess and

defect, because the mean is in one point of view the highest possible

state, so neither of those faulty states can you have a mean state,

excess, or defect, but howsoever done they are wrong: you cannot, in

short, have of excess and defect a mean state, nor of a mean state

excess and defect.

VII

It is not enough, however, to state this in general terms, we must also

apply it to particular instances, because in treatises on moral conduct

general statements have an air of vagueness, but those which go into

detail one of greater reality: for the actions after all must be in

detail, and the general statements, to be worth anything, must hold good

here.

We must take these details then from the Table.

I. In respect of fears and confidence or boldness:

The Mean state is Courage: men may exceed, of course, either in absence

of fear or in positive confidence: the former has no name (which is a

common case), the latter is called rash: again, the man who has too much

fear and too little confidence is called a coward.

II. In respect of pleasures and pains (but not all, and perhaps fewer

pains than pleasures):

The Mean state here is perfected Self-Mastery, the defect total absence

of Self-control. As for defect in respect of pleasure, there are really

no people who are chargeable with it, so, of course, there is really no

name for such characters, but, as they are conceivable, we will give

them one and call them insensible.

III. In respect of giving and taking wealth (a):

The mean state is Liberality, the excess Prodigality, the defect

Stinginess: here each of the extremes involves really an excess and

defect contrary to each other: I mean, the prodigal gives out too much

and takes in too little, while the stingy man takes in too much and

gives out too little. (It must be understood that we are now giving

merely an outline and summary, intentionally: and we will, in a later

part of the treatise, draw out the distinctions with greater exactness.)

IV. In respect of wealth (b):

There are other dispositions besides these just mentioned; a mean state

called Munificence (for the munificent man differs from the liberal, the

former having necessarily to do with great wealth, the latter with but

small); the excess called by the names either of Want of taste or

Vulgar Profusion, and the defect Paltriness (these also differ from the

extremes connected with liberality, and the manner of their difference

shall also be spoken of later).

V. In respect of honour and dishonour (a):

The mean state Greatness of Soul, the excess which may be called

braggadocio, and the defect Littleness of Soul.

VI. In respect of honour and dishonour (b):

Now there is a state bearing the same relation to Greatness of Soul as

we said just now Liberality does to Munificence, with the difference

that is of being about a small amount of the same thing: this state

having reference to small honour, as Greatness of Soul to great honour;

a man may, of course, grasp at honour either more than he should or

less; now he that exceeds in his grasping at it is called ambitious, he

that falls short unambitious, he that is just as he should be has no

proper name: nor in fact have the states, except that the disposition of

the ambitious man is called ambition. For this reason those who are in

either extreme lay claim to the mean as a debateable land, and we call

the virtuous character sometimes by the name ambitious, sometimes by

that of unambitious, and we commend sometimes the one and sometimes

the other. Why we do it shall be said in the subsequent part of the

treatise; but now we will go on with the rest of the virtues after the

plan we have laid down.

VII. In respect of anger:

Here too there is excess, defect, and a mean state; but since they

may be said to have really no proper names, as we call the virtuous

character Meek, we will call the mean state Meekness, and of the

extremes, let the man who is excessive be denominated Passionate, and

the faulty state Passionateness, and him who is deficient Angerless, and

the defect Angerlessness.

There are also three other mean states, having some mutual resemblance,

but still with differences; they are alike in that they all have for

their object-matter intercourse of words and deeds, and they differ in

that one has respect to truth herein, the other two to what is pleasant;

and this in two ways, the one in relaxation and amusement, the other in

all things which occur in daily life. We must say a word or two about

these also, that we may the better see that in all matters the mean is

praiseworthy, while the extremes are neither right nor worthy of praise

but of blame.

Now of these, it is true, the majority have really no proper names, but

still we must try, as in the other cases, to coin some for them for the

sake of clearness and intelligibleness.

I. In respect of truth: The man who is in the mean state we will call

Truthful, and his state Truthfulness, and as to the disguise of truth,

if it be on the side of exaggeration, Braggadocia, and him that has it a

Braggadocio; if on that of diminution, Reserve and Reserved shall be the

terms.

II. In respect of what is pleasant in the way of relaxation or

amusement: The mean state shall be called Easy-pleasantry, and the

character accordingly a man of Easy-pleasantry; the excess Buffoonery,

and the man a Buffoon; the man deficient herein a Clown, and his state

Clownishness.

III. In respect of what is pleasant in daily life: He that is as he

should be may be called Friendly, and his mean state Friendliness: he

that exceeds, if it be without any interested motive, somewhat too

Complaisant, if with such motive, a Flatterer: he that is deficient and

in all instances unpleasant, Quarrelsome and Cross.

There are mean states likewise in feelings and matters concerning them.

Shamefacedness, for instance, is no virtue, still a man is praised for

being shamefaced: for in these too the one is denominated the man in the

mean state, the other in the excess; the Dumbfoundered, for instance,

who is overwhelmed with shame on all and any occasions: the man who is

in the defect, _i.e._ who has no shame at all in his composition, is

called Shameless: but the right character Shamefaced.

Indignation against successful vice, again, is a state in the mean

between Envy and Malevolence: they all three have respect to pleasure

and pain produced by what happens to one's neighbour: for the man who

has this right feeling is annoyed at undeserved success of others, while

the envious man goes beyond him and is annoyed at all success of others,

and the malevolent falls so far short of feeling annoyance that he even

rejoices [at misfortune of others].

But for the discussion of these also there will be another opportunity,

as of Justice too, because the term is used in more senses than one. So

after this we will go accurately into each and say how they are mean

states: and in like manner also with respect to the Intellectual

Excellences.

Now as there are three states in each case, two faulty either in the way

of excess or defect, and one right, which is the mean state, of course

all are in a way opposed to one another; the extremes, for instance, not

only to the mean but also to one another, and the mean to the extremes:

for just as the half is greater if compared with the less portion, and

less if compared with the greater, so the mean states, compared with the

defects, exceed, whether in feelings or actions, and _vice versa_. The

brave man, for instance, shows as rash when compared with the coward,

and cowardly when compared with the rash; similarly too the man of

perfected self-mastery, viewed in comparison with the man destitute of

all perception, shows like a man of no self-control, but in comparison

with the man who really has no self-control, he looks like one destitute

of all perception: and the liberal man compared with the stingy seems

prodigal, and by the side of the prodigal, stingy.

And so the extreme characters push away, so to speak, towards each other

the man in the mean state; the brave man is called a rash man by

the coward, and a coward by the rash man, and in the other cases

accordingly. And there being this mutual opposition, the contrariety

between the extremes is greater than between either and the mean,

because they are further from one another than from the mean, just as

the greater or less portion differ more from each other than either from

the exact half.

Again, in some cases an extreme will bear a resemblance to the mean;

rashness, for instance, to courage, and prodigality to liberality; but

between the extremes there is the greatest dissimilarity. Now things

which are furthest from one another are defined to be contrary, and so

the further off the more contrary will they be.

Further: of the extremes in some cases the excess,

and in others the defect, is most opposed to the mean: to courage, for

instance, not rashness which is the excess, but cowardice which is the

defect; whereas to perfected self-mastery not insensibility which is the

defect but absence of all self-control which is the excess.

And for this there are two reasons to be given; one from the nature of

the thing itself, because from the one extreme being nearer and more

like the mean, we do not put this against it, but the other; as, for

instance, since rashness is thought to be nearer to courage than

cowardice is, and to resemble it more, we put cowardice against courage

rather than rashness, because those things which are further from the

mean are thought to be more contrary to it. This then is one reason

arising from the thing itself; there is another arising from our own

constitution and make: for in each man's own case those things give the

impression of being more contrary to the mean to which we individually

have a natural bias. Thus we have a natural bias towards pleasures,

for which reason we are much more inclined to the rejection of all

self-control, than to self-discipline.

These things then to which the bias is, we call more contrary, and so

total want of self-control (the excess) is more contrary than the defect

is to perfected self-mastery.

IX

Now that Moral Virtue is a mean state, and how it is so, and that it

lies between two faulty states, one in the way of excess and another in

the way of defect, and that it is so because it has an aptitude to aim

at the mean both in feelings and actions, all this has been set forth

fully and sufficiently.

And so it is hard to be good: for surely hard it is in each instance to

find the mean, just as to find the mean point or centre of a circle is

not what any man can do, but only he who knows how: just so to be angry,

to give money, and be expensive, is what any man can do, and easy: but

to do these to the right person, in due proportion, at the right time,

with a right object, and in the right manner, this is not as before what

any man can do, nor is it easy; and for this cause goodness is rare, and

praiseworthy, and noble.

Therefore he who aims at the mean should make it his first care to keep

away from that extreme which is more contrary than the other to the

mean; just as Calypso in Homer advises Ulysses,

  "Clear of this smoke and surge thy barque direct;"

because of the two extremes the one is always more, and the other

less, erroneous; and, therefore, since to hit exactly on the mean is

difficult, one must take the least of the evils as the safest plan; and

this a man will be doing, if he follows this method.

We ought also to take into consideration our own

natural bias; which varies in each man's case, and will be ascertained

from the pleasure and pain arising in us. Furthermore, we should force

ourselves off in the contrary direction, because we shall find ourselves

in the mean after we have removed ourselves far from the wrong side,

exactly as men do in straightening bent timber.

But in all cases we must guard most carefully against what is pleasant,

and pleasure itself, because we are not impartial judges of it.

We ought to feel in fact towards pleasure as did the old counsellors

towards Helen, and in all cases pronounce a similar sentence; for so by

sending it away from us, we shall err the less.

Well, to speak very briefly, these are the precautions by adopting which

we shall be best able to attain the mean.

Still, perhaps, after all it is a matter of difficulty, and specially

in the particular instances: it is not easy, for instance, to determine

exactly in what manner, with what persons, for what causes, and for what

length of time, one ought to feel anger: for we ourselves sometimes

praise those who are defective in this feeling, and we call them meek;

at another, we term the hot-tempered manly and spirited.

Then, again, he who makes a small deflection from what is right, be it

on the side of too much or too little, is not blamed, only he who makes

a considerable one; for he cannot escape observation. But to what point

or degree a man must err in order to incur blame, it is not easy to

determine exactly in words: nor in fact any of those points which are

matter of perception by the Moral Sense: such questions are matters of

detail, and the decision of them rests with the Moral Sense.

At all events thus much is plain, that the mean state is in all things

praiseworthy, and that practically we must deflect sometimes towards

excess sometimes towards defect, because this will be the easiest method

of hitting on the mean, that is, on what is right.

BOOK III

Now since Virtue is concerned with the regulation of feelings and

actions, and praise and blame arise upon such as are voluntary, while

for the involuntary allowance is made, and sometimes compassion is

excited, it is perhaps a necessary task for those who are investigating

the nature of Virtue to draw out the distinction between what is

voluntary and what involuntary; and it is certainly useful for

legislators, with respect to the assigning of honours and punishments.

III

Involuntary actions then are thought to be of two kinds, being

done either on compulsion, or by reason of ignorance. An action is,

properly speaking, compulsory, when the origination is external to the

agent, being such that in it the agent (perhaps we may more properly

say the patient) contributes nothing; as if a wind were to convey you

anywhere, or men having power over your person.

But when actions are done, either from fear of greater evils, or from

some honourable motive, as, for instance, if you were ordered to commit

some base act by a despot who had your parents or children in his power,

and they were to be saved upon your compliance or die upon your refusal,

in such cases there is room for a question whether the actions are

voluntary or involuntary.

A similar question arises with respect to cases of throwing goods

overboard in a storm: abstractedly no man throws away his property

willingly, but with a view to his own and his shipmates' safety any one

would who had any sense.

The truth is, such actions are of a mixed kind, but are most like

voluntary actions; for they are choiceworthy at the time when they are

being done, and the end or object of the action must be taken with

reference to the actual occasion. Further, we must denominate an action

voluntary or involuntary at the time of doing it: now in the given case

the man acts voluntarily, because the originating of the motion of his

limbs in such actions rests with himself; and where the origination is

in himself it rests with himself to do or not to do.

Such actions then are voluntary, though in the abstract perhaps

involuntary because no one would choose any of such things in and by

itself.

But for such actions men sometimes are even praised, as when they endure

any disgrace or pain to secure great and honourable equivalents; if

_vice versâ_, then they are blamed, because it shows a base mind to

endure things very disgraceful for no honourable object, or for a

trifling one.

For some again no praise is given, but allowance is made; as where a

man does what he should not by reason of such things as overstrain the

powers of human nature, or pass the limits of human endurance.

Some acts perhaps there are for which compulsion cannot be pleaded, but

a man should rather suffer the worst and die; how absurd, for instance,

are the pleas of compulsion with which Alcmaeon in Euripides' play

excuses his matricide!

But it is difficult sometimes to decide what kind of thing should be

chosen instead of what, or what endured in preference to what, and much

moreso to abide by one's decisions: for in general the alternatives are

painful, and the actions required are base, and so praise or blame is

awarded according as persons have been compelled or no.

What kind of actions then are to be called compulsory? may we say,

simply and abstractedly whenever the cause is external and the agent

contributes nothing; and that where the acts are in themselves such

as one would not wish but choiceworthy at the present time and in

preference to such and such things, and where the origination rests with

the agent, the actions are in themselves involuntary but at the given

time and in preference to such and such things voluntary; and they are

more like voluntary than involuntary, because the actions consist of

little details, and these are voluntary.

But what kind of things one ought to choose instead of what, it is not

easy to settle, for there are many differences in particular instances.

But suppose a person should say, things pleasant and honourable exert

a compulsive force (for that they are external and do compel); at that

rate every action is on compulsion, because these are universal motives

of action.

Again, they who act on compulsion and against their will do so with

pain; but they who act by reason of what is pleasant or honourable act

with pleasure.

It is truly absurd for a man to attribute his actions to external things

instead of to his own capacity for being easily caught by them; or,

again, to ascribe the honourable to himself, and the base ones to

pleasure.

So then that seems to be compulsory "whose origination is from without,

the party compelled contributing nothing." Now every action of which

ignorance is the cause is not-voluntary, but that only is involuntary

which is attended with pain and remorse; for clearly the man who has

done anything by reason of ignorance, but is not annoyed at his own

action, cannot be said to have done it _with_ his will because he did

not know he was doing it, nor again _against_ his will because he is not

sorry for it.

So then of the class "acting by reason of ignorance," he who feels

regret afterwards is thought to be an involuntary agent, and him that

has no such feeling, since he certainly is different from the other, we

will call a not-voluntary agent; for as there is a real difference it is

better to have a proper name.

Again, there seems to be a difference between acting _because of_

ignorance and acting _with_ ignorance: for instance, we do not usually

assign ignorance as the cause of the actions of the drunken or angry

man, but either the drunkenness or the anger, yet they act not knowingly

but with ignorance.

Again, every bad man is ignorant what he ought to do and what to leave

undone, and by reason of such error men become unjust and wholly evil.

Again, we do not usually apply the term involuntary

when a man is ignorant of his own true interest; because ignorance which

affects moral choice constitutes depravity but not involuntariness: nor

does any ignorance of principle (because for this men are blamed)

but ignorance in particular details, wherein consists the action and

wherewith it is concerned, for in these there is both compassion and

allowance, because he who acts in ignorance of any of them acts in a

proper sense involuntarily.

It may be as well, therefore, to define these particular details; what

they are, and how many; viz. who acts, what he is doing, with respect to

what or in what, sometimes with what, as with what instrument, and with

what result (as that of preservation, for instance), and how, as whether

softly or violently.

All these particulars, in one and the same case, no man in his senses

could be ignorant of; plainly not of the agent, being himself. But

what he is doing a man may be ignorant, as men in speaking say a

thing escaped them unawares; or as Aeschylus did with respect to the

Mysteries, that he was not aware that it was unlawful to speak of them;

or as in the case of that catapult accident the other day the man said

he discharged it merely to display its operation. Or a person might

suppose a son to be an enemy, as Merope did; or that the spear really

pointed was rounded off; or that the stone was a pumice; or in striking

with a view to save might kill; or might strike when merely wishing to

show another, as people do in sham-fighting.

Now since ignorance is possible in respect to all these details in

which the action consists, he that acted in ignorance of any of them is

thought to have acted involuntarily, and he most so who was in ignorance

as regards the most important, which are thought to be those in which

the action consists, and the result.

Further, not only must the ignorance be of this kind, to constitute an

action involuntary, but it must be also understood that the action is

followed by pain and regret.

Now since all involuntary action is either upon compulsion or by reason

of ignorance, Voluntary Action would seem to be "that whose origination

is in the agent, he being aware of the particular details in which the

action consists."

For, it may be, men are not justified by calling those actions

involuntary, which are done by reason of Anger or Lust.

Because, in the first place, if this be so no other animal but man, and

not even children, can be said to act voluntarily. Next, is it meant

that we never act voluntarily when we act from Lust or Anger, or that we

act voluntarily in doing what is right and involuntarily in doing what

is discreditable? The latter supposition is absurd, since the cause

is one and the same. Then as to the former, it is a strange thing to

maintain actions to be involuntary which we are bound to grasp at: now

there are occasions on which anger is a duty, and there are things which

we are bound to lust after, health, for instance, and learning.

Again, whereas actions strictly involuntary are thought to be attended

with pain, those which are done to gratify lust are thought to be

pleasant.

Again: how does the involuntariness make any difference between wrong

actions done from deliberate calculation, and those done by reason of

anger? for both ought to be avoided, and the irrational feelings are

thought to be just as natural to man as reason, and so of course must be

such actions of the individual as are done from Anger and Lust. It is

absurd then to class these actions among the involuntary.

II

Having thus drawn out the distinction between voluntary and involuntary

action our next step is to examine into the nature of Moral Choice,

because this seems most intimately connected with Virtue and to be a

more decisive test of moral character than a man's acts are.

Now Moral Choice is plainly voluntary, but the two are not co-extensive,

voluntary being the more comprehensive term; for first, children and all

other animals share in voluntary action but not in Moral Choice; and

next, sudden actions we call voluntary but do not ascribe them to Moral

Choice.

Nor do they appear to be right who say it is lust or anger, or wish, or

opinion of a certain kind; because, in the first place, Moral Choice is

not shared by the irrational animals while Lust and Anger are. Next; the

man who fails of self-control acts from Lust but not from Moral Choice;

the man of self-control, on the contrary, from Moral Choice, not from

Lust. Again: whereas Lust is frequently opposed to Moral Choice, Lust is

not to Lust.

Lastly: the object-matter of Lust is the pleasant and the painful, but

of Moral Choice neither the one nor the other. Still less can it be

Anger, because actions done from Anger are thought generally to be least

of all consequent on Moral Choice.

Nor is it Wish either, though appearing closely connected with it;

because, in the first place, Moral Choice has not for its objects

impossibilities, and if a man were to say he chose them he would be

thought to be a fool; but Wish may have impossible things for its

objects, immortality for instance.

Wish again may be exercised on things in the accomplishment of which

one's self could have nothing to do, as the success of any particular

actor or athlete; but no man chooses things of this nature, only such as

he believes he may himself be instrumental in procuring.

Further: Wish has for its object the End rather, but Moral Choice the

means to the End; for instance, we wish to be healthy but we choose

the means which will make us so; or happiness again we wish for, and

commonly say so, but to say we choose is not an appropriate term,

because, in short, the province of Moral Choice seems to be those things

which are in our own power.

Neither can it be Opinion; for Opinion is thought to be unlimited in its

range of objects, and to be exercised as well upon things eternal and

impossible as on those which are in our own power: again, Opinion is

logically divided into true and false, not into good and bad as Moral

Choice is.

However, nobody perhaps maintains its identity with Opinion simply; but

it is not the same with opinion of any kind, because by choosing good

and bad things we are constituted of a certain character, but by having

opinions on them we are not.

Again, we choose to take or avoid, and so on, but we opine what a thing

is, or for what it is serviceable, or how; but we do not opine to take

or avoid.

Further, Moral Choice is commended rather for having a right object than

for being judicious, but Opinion for being formed in accordance with

truth.

Again, we choose such things as we pretty well know to be good, but we

form opinions respecting such as we do not know at all.

And it is not thought that choosing and opining best always go together,

but that some opine the better course and yet by reason of viciousness

choose not the things which they should.

It may be urged, that Opinion always precedes or accompanies Moral

Choice; be it so, this makes no difference, for this is not the point in

question, but whether Moral Choice is the same as Opinion of a certain

kind.

Since then it is none of the aforementioned things, what is it, or how

is it characterised? Voluntary it plainly is, but not all voluntary

action is an object of Moral Choice. May we not say then, it is "that

voluntary which has passed through a stage of previous deliberation?"

because Moral Choice is attended with reasoning and intellectual

process. The etymology of its Greek name seems to give a hint of it,

being when analysed "chosen in preference to somewhat else."

III

Well then; do men deliberate about everything, and is anything soever

the object of Deliberation, or are there some matters with respect to

which there is none? (It may be as well perhaps to say, that by "object

of Deliberation" is meant such matter as a sensible man would deliberate

upon, not what any fool or madman might.)

Well: about eternal things no one deliberates; as, for instance, the

universe, or the incommensurability of the diameter and side of a

square.

Nor again about things which are in motion but which always happen in

the same way either necessarily, or naturally, or from some other cause,

as the solstices or the sunrise.

Nor about those which are variable, as drought and rains; nor fortuitous

matters, as finding of treasure.

Nor in fact even about all human affairs; no Lacedæmonian, for instance,

deliberates as to the best course for the Scythian government to adopt;

because in such cases we have no power over the result.

But we do deliberate respecting such practical matters as are in our own

power (which are what are left after all our exclusions).

I have adopted this division because causes seem to be divisible into

nature, necessity, chance, and moreover intellect, and all human powers.

And as man in general deliberates about what man in general can effect,

so individuals do about such practical things as can be effected through

their own instrumentality.

Again, we do not deliberate respecting such arts or

sciences as are exact and independent: as, for instance, about written

characters, because we have no doubt how they should be formed; but we

do deliberate on all buch things as are usually done through our own

instrumentality, but not invariably in the same way; as, for instance,

about matters connected with the healing art, or with money-making; and,

again, more about piloting ships than gymnastic exercises, because the

former has been less exactly determined, and so forth; and more about

arts than sciences, because we more frequently doubt respecting the

former.

So then Deliberation takes place in such matters as are under general

laws, but still uncertain how in any given case they will issue,

_i.e._ in which there is some indefiniteness; and for great matters we

associate coadjutors in counsel, distrusting our ability to settle them

alone.

Further, we deliberate not about Ends, but Means to Ends. No physician,

for instance, deliberates whether he will cure, nor orator whether

he will persuade, nor statesman whether he will produce a good

constitution, nor in fact any man in any other function about his

particular End; but having set before them a certain End they look how

and through what means it may be accomplished: if there is a choice of

means, they examine further which are easiest and most creditable; or,

if there is but one means of accomplishing the object, then how it may

be through this, this again through what, till they come to the first

cause; and this will be the last found; for a man engaged in a process

of deliberation seems to seek and analyse, as a man, to solve a

problem, analyses the figure given him. And plainly not every search is